#as a Very mentally ill person I have made a lot of progress by admitting that my anxiety and trauma can cause others stress and exhaustion

[desultory-suggestions]

An important area of growth, if you struggle with mental illness, is being able to healthily acknowledge how your mental health struggles can burden others. This statement alone may sound scary or wrong, but it isn’t. Mental illness is a burden to the person who suffers from it, but it can also place pressure on partners, family, and friends to be a caretaker. Loved ones should be there to offer you support, but if their role becomes 24/7, intensive, and verges on a defacto therapist, something needs to change. There is a happy and healthy balance where you can get the support you need while your loved ones get the rest and time they need to care for themselves. Take time to reflect on how your health struggles may impact those you love, and unravel the shame and guilt that may arise. This acknowledgment is not a punishment, and you are not a burden. You are not hard to love. The reason it is worth exploring is that you and your loved ones deserve the health and happiness that a healthy balance brings. It’s not wrong to need support, we just have to go about it in a healthy manner.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.36

Summary: It's the new year and you're determined to start it off better than the last. But really, how smooth could it go when you associate with an Addams and her group of Outcasts?

Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: swearing, mental instability, mental illness, grieving, murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“How was your new year?” Mama Weems asked. “Do anything exciting with the group?”

“We did “exciting” last year and have been suffering for it ever since,” you said. “We stayed in and played Jackbox Games.”

If you had been sitting across the table from her, like a normal person would, you would have seen her smile over the lip of her coffee cup. But you weren’t a normal person, and you weren’t sitting across the table. No, you were sitting right beside her, so close that you could feel the warmth from her side. A warmth that you didn’t really get from anyone else.

Not that it was Wednesday’s fault, of course. She was just… a little cold-blooded. And she had the audacity to get stingy with her kisses around this time of year.  Which was rude, honestly, and partially why you had ditched her to hang out with Mama Weems instead. It definitely wasn’t because she was hanging out with Enid.

“How have you been, darling?” Mama Weems asked. Her arm felt nice wrapped around your shoulders. “Truthfully.”

Don’t admit to anything, the voice in the back of your head practically growled. If there was anything you hated, it was that stupid voice. Never leaving, somehow always chiming in when you didn’t want it to. There really wasn’t anything about it that made you feel it was necessary. Or even wanted. Why couldn’t it just let you make your own decisions?

“I’m tired,” you said in a soft voice. Humiliating. “I just want things to go back to how they were.”

Mama Weems’ pulled you the miniscule distance closer. She wasn’t as warm as Enid, but no one was as warm as Enid. It didn’t change much, warm was warm. And you had been feeling so very cold lately. Not the kind of cold that could be fixed with a blanket and someone to hold, but a cold that reached into your soul and refused to let go.

A coward. That damned voice was getting more and more demanding. More vicious. It was almost clawing at the back of your mind, gauging ravines into your brain and devouring anything in its way. Like a feral beast trapped in a cage, desperate to escape.

Wow. That was almost poetic. Maybe Wednesday was rubbing off on you.

“I wish I could say it was all part of growing up,” Mama Weems said, bringing you back to the situation at hand. Right. Coffee.  “But I wouldn’t wish to diminish your experiences with a simple solution.”

She shouldn’t impart such wise words. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want wise words, you just wanted a hug. A warm hug that was a little too nice and that could make you forget about everything just for a few seconds. Hugs weren’t exactly Wednesday’s thing, even though she tried. Oh she tried, the sweet thing, but you couldn’t make her uncomfortable for something that wouldn’t even fix anything.

“How has therapy been going?” She asked. “Has it been helping?”

“A bit,” you said with a nod.

It wasn’t a lie; it really was helping a bit. Shaun was nice, you supposed. And he at least outwardly seemed to care, so that was nice too. And you were even starting to learn to open up! Okay, not a lot and it was still an uphill battle, but you had told Wednesday two things about your parents. Oh yeah. You were making progress.

Except.

“Really need him after the holidays,” you said softly.

The holidays themselves were fine. You weren’t necessarily the biggest fan of Christmas, but you enjoyed spending the time with your family. And Wednesday, but spending time with her was a given. No, you wouldn’t deny that the holiday time was something worth interrupting your routine for.

It was the murder.

If no one had turned on the news that Christmas morning, you never would have known. You weren’t even sure who had actually done it, if they had even done it on purpose in the first place. All you remembered was you had all been getting ready to play No Mercy Uno, and the TV was on.

Murder on the Polar Express. That was the dumb title the news station had written on the little banner on the bottom of the screen. A title that had nothing to do with the grisly murder of some poor college girl in DC. Some girl that was apparently associated with Kristi, because she was the one who had come forward for the press release.

There was no proof that it had anything to do with you. No proof at all, in any direction. But you would admit, it was starting to get creepy. First Mr. Hart and then this new girl? You had plenty of reasons to hate Marcus and Kristi, but that didn’t mean you wanted anyone to get hurt.

You like when they suffer, the voice in your head had growled when Kristi let a tear slip. Probably fake, but you couldn’t prove it.

“Are you seeing him again soon?” Mama Weems asked.

Right. You were at the cafe. You really needed to stop letting yourself get carried away, it was starting to make you think that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to lose your mind.

“I need to,” you said with a sigh.

“I’m proud of you,” she said softly, pulling you tighter and pressing a feather-light kiss on the top of your head.

Now that was worth coming back to the present for.

—---

“Would you consider me mentally unstable?” You asked as you expertly flipped the pancake in the skillet. Maybe you should be a chef.

“Of course,” Yoko answered without hesitation.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” you emphasised, “I was asking Wednesday.”

“Then be more specific next time,” she said.

You grumbled, but supposed she was right. It’s what you got for inviting the trio over for breakfast. That was what happened when you didn’t listen to Wednesday. She had warned you not to invite them. Sure, it was because she just didn’t want to put up with anyone, but still! Maybe your girlfriend was always right!

Not that you would tell her. You couldn’t have her getting a big head.

“Do you have reason to believe you’re mentally unstable?” Wednesday asked as she appeared beside you. Back at Nevermore, her silent movements would have scared you. But not anymore, you were a professional now.

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Then no,” she said, holding the plate out for you to finish sliding the last remaining pancake onto the rather impressive tower.

“Don’t say it,” you heard Divina whisper when you and Wednesday walked over to the table where the three were sitting patiently.

Well. Except for Enid.

“Damn Wednesday,” Yoko said anyway, “Big Bird has turned you soft.”

“Yoko,” Enid and Divina scolded simultaneously.

“I’ll give you one chance to repeat that belief,” Wednesday said. Her glare at the vampire was phenomenal. Fuck, you loved her.

Yoko looked at Wednesday. “These look delicious,” she said instead, instantly grabbing food from the plates laid out on the table.

“Coward,” Divina chuckled lightly.

“You try shit talking the goth girl over there,” Yoko whispered back.

“I believe Enid is the only one of you that has any survival skills,” Wednesday said.

Everyone looked over to the pup, and you had to do your best not to laugh at her. Even though everyone had only gotten settled not even two minutes ago, Enid was already finishing off her third pancake and was in the process of grabbing more. The berries had been haphazardly pushed to the side of her plate, and all the bacon and sausage had not-so-mysteriously disappeared.

It was a good thing you still had plenty of batter. This might end up being only Enid’s breakfast.

The woman herself froze after realising everyone was looking at her. “Did you guys want some?” She asked with her mouth full.

“Eat away, E,” you said with a quiet laugh. “I can always make more.”

She just smiled - as best she could with a dry pancake nearly to her lips - before continuing to tear into the food. Everyone else was quick to follow, though they all managed to be a little more… civilised. Or they did. You struggled to maintain much more composure than Enid. Thank gods you made the both of you some protein pancakes so it wasn’t another breakfast massacre.

As much as you knew Wednesday loved to gripe and complain about having people over, it was easy to tell she loved it. There was no overt way to notice, and truthfully you weren’t even sure if Enid would know. But it was there. In her small outward complaints about what everyone was doing, even though you had never seen her hands so relaxed. In the open judgement of everyone’s opinions while that furrow of her brows all but disappeared. In the comfort of her willingly holding your hand and letting it rest on the table where everyone could see.

It was nice. Not anything extravagant, nothing that most would consider memorable, but for you? The mundane feeling of it all? It was one of the best moments of your life. Your family was all together in one spot, you were all just existing and it was perfect. No worries, no cares, nothing amiss. A perfect morning.

It’s going to come crashing down, the voice said.

You looked down at your plate and refused to look up. The pressure in your head left a fuzzy haze around the edge of your vision. But you knew better. Nothing could get you to look back up at the carnage that you would undoubtedly see. It was like a filter, covering everyone in blood and gore, setting the scene of a bloody massacre that wasn’t even real.

Something cold rested on your thigh; one of the few times you were thankful that Wednesday naturally ran cooler than most. The smallest change in temperature, even for just a moment, had the fog dissipating and the almost inaudible rumbling fading back into nothing.

“Breathe,” Wednesday whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure the werewolf and vampire senses could hear it.

Her thumb rubbed against your knee. A constant, feather-light touch that would have been infuriating in any other sense. But when it was drawing you back down to earth, it was a godsend. Something to focus on. Even just the sight of her shiny black nails kept you grounded.

“Good girl,” Wednesday said with a light squeeze to your thigh.

You almost wished she would have left you in that mental hellscape, because you knew everyone else had heard that phrase.

“Don’t,” Divina said, and you looked up just in time to see Yoko’s shit-eating grin.

“Why am I not surprised?” Yoko asked anyway.

“I hope you enjoyed breakfast,” Wednesday started.

“Because you’re never getting invited again,” you finished.

“Can I still come?” Enid asked.

“Yeah, don’t make us suffer because she can’t shut up,” Divina chimed in, still taking her time in eating her breakfast. Which… you supposed everyone else was too, aside from you and Enid.

“You’re both throwing me under the bus?” Yoko asked incredulously.

“Seems they have some common sense,” Wednesday said before taking a sip of her coffee that you couldn’t guarantee was still hot. The slight grimace on her face gave you the answer.

“You two can still come,” you said as you stood up and grabbed the coffee pot. “It would be lonely without a bit of company.”

“Wednesday isn’t enough for you?” Yoko asked.

You glared at her while pouring the coffee into Wednesday’s mug. Then Enid’s, then Divina’s. You purposefully ignored the mug Yoko held out for you, and you didn’t feel the least bit sorry for it. If she wanted to be a dick, you were going to treat her like the nuisance she really was.

“Keep your girl in line, you two,” you said with a raised brow before standing up, grabbing empty plates to take to the sink. “I’d hate to see Wednesday end her bloodline.”

“It would be the wisest option,” Wednesday agreed. A few more plates clinked against each other before she appeared beside you, carefully placing the small pile of plates into the sink.

“Can your bloodline end like that?” Divina whispered from the table.

“Shut up,” Yoko whispered back, “you’re both leaving me to Wednesday!”

Divina laughed.

“Enid, help me out here.”

“Huh?” You heard Enid mumble around what was probably another pancake. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

You did your best not to laugh at the bickering continuing behind you. From your peripheral, you could see Wednesday was in the same boat. Not that she laughed aloud, but you could see the smallest uptick of the corner of her mouth. Most of the time she would try to hide it, but she wasn’t even trying even as she got started on assisting with the dishes.

And by god did you fall just a little more in love.

The rest of the morning went by quickly. Not that anyone really had any plans aside from hanging out. Kent and Ajax popped by to bring some of the veggies from their little in-apartment garden. As usual, Wednesday was severely disappointed that they weren’t poisonous. You made a mental note to ask her mom for dangerous plant advice.

“If you feel concerned about your stability,” Wednesday said after everyone was gone and you had both laid on the couch, “you should go meet with Shaun.”

You sighed. “I know.” You pulled her closer until you could rest your chin on her shoulder. “I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

“A wise decision,” she said softly. “You can go to coffee with Casey and Devan after.”

You froze. How did she know?

She’s watching you, the voice taunted. She doesn’t trust you.

“They called you over Christmas,” she said, almost as if she could sense your discomfort. “You had not yet decided if you were going or not.”

Right. Right, you remembered that. Of course it was that simple. Something heavy settled in your stomach. Had you really nearly believed that stupid voice that Wednesday, your Wednesday, was spying on you? Why? Why would you trust something that, so far, had said nothing good to you since its appearance?

Wednesday’s cold lips pressed against the inside of your wrist. She had to bend your arm a little awkwardly to do so, but you didn’t care. If it meant you could feel her mouth over that pulse point, you would bend any way she wished. You knew she was sparing with her physical affection, and you were going to enjoy every little moment of it.

“Tomorrow will help,” she whispered against your skin.

Yeah, you thought as you pressed your own kiss to the back of her neck. Tomorrow will help.

—---

It was a lie. It was all a lie. Tomorrow, as you and Wednesday had initially thought, would not help.

You and Wednesday had both fallen asleep on the couch, which was weird enough on its own. Usually, she would wake you both up to move to the bed, even if it was only for an hour or two. But when you both woke up, you were still in the same place you had been the night before. Even the TV was still on the same channel, running some reruns of Star Trek.

Then your phone had been close to dead. Seeing as you had fallen asleep on the couch, you hadn’t plugged it in. When you had finally gotten up, you noticed your phone only had a small bit of battery left. Only enough to set up a time with Casey and Devan, and to call Shaun. Perfect.

“When will you go to the coffee shop?” Wednesday asked as you hopped around the room, trying not to die while you pulled your sweats on.

“My appointment is at nine so… sometime after 10, I guess?” You said.

“How will I know where you are?” Wednesday asked. She placed her hands on your hips to keep you still for a moment. It was nice.

“If I’m not at Shaun’s or the coffee shop, then I’ve been kidnapped or murdered,” you said with a nod. “Exact revenge as necessary.”

Wednesday nodded once before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. You loved those kisses. They were rare, and they were cold, and they sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to call Shaun and tell him you couldn’t come in anymore. But when Wednesday ushered you out the door, you knew you had to go be an adult, at least for a little while.

And then you had nearly been late to your appointment. Because gods forbid something goes right.

“You’re still frazzled,” Shaun said from his stupid therapist chair.

Yoko had scolded you once for calling it a therapist chair, but she couldn’t argue that it was anything else. It was! It was the long half-chair-half-sofa thing that you thought only belonged in a rich person’s house and was used for nothing but showing off. From looks alone, it wasn’t even comfortable.

“It’s just,” you shrugged, “a lot.”

“Well,” Shaun sighed, “you’ve mentioned your parents, that intern’s murder, and your frustration with the world at large.” He waited until you met his eyes. “Anything else bothering you?”

Everything, you wanted to say. The cruelty of a world that refused to let you rest. Your brother’s ghost that haunted you so irregularly that you may as well consider him nothing but the occasional jumpscare. Knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t actually keep anyone safe.

You’re a coward, the voice said. You will let them all burn in the fires of your mistakes.

Never mind. You knew what to talk about.

“There’s a voice,” you said as you tapped your finger against your temple. “It’s like the devil on your shoulder, except it won’t shut up.”

Shaun tilted his head and shifted in his seat. “A voice?” You nodded. “What does it sound like?”

“The first few times it sounded like Nicky,” you said, as if it wasn’t as terrible of a feeling as it truly was. It was like the words flew right out of your mouth. “Then it was…” you sighed. “Almost him?” You questioned. “But distorted?”

“What does it tell you?” Shaun asked.

“It-”

-Tell him, the voice said. Far too eagerly. Tell him of all the things we talk about. You shivered. Tell him of all the things I show you.

Why was it so eager to be known? How was it going to benefit from being exposed? Now that it wanted you to, you wanted to keep your mouth shut. You were a conspiracy theorist at heart, and Wednesday had given you some useful paranoia, so you could pick out a bad idea from a mile away.

And this now seemed like a very bad idea.

“Just… things,” you said.

Coward.

“What kind of things?”

He sounded too eager. Way too eager. You did your best to hide your “suspicious face,” as Wednesday had called it, before turning around to look at him. Something uncomfortable crawled over your skin when you saw him leaning forward in his chair. Elbows resting on his knees and eyes wide and if you really let your mind go crazy, maybe even the smallest hint of a smile.

Tell him, the voice said. Tell him tell him tell him-

-the little chant in your head continued to speed up, carving the words into your skull. It felt like the incessant words were making your teeth vibrate and your eyes ache. Maybe if you told him, it would stop. You could have some peace and quiet for once.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.

“You should listen to it.”

“What?” You blurted out.

Shaun blinked hard before sitting back in the chair. You knew false relaxation when you saw it. Wednesday had taught you all the tips and tricks of a liar. But this? This was different. That glint in his eyes had disappeared and he almost looked… lost? Like he didn’t know where that had come from.

Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he did. You weren’t sure which answer you would have liked better.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I think I need to cut this short.” He scratched his head hesitantly, now no longer even looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded but didn’t leave. Did he mean it? Did he really want you to leave? But when he still didn’t look back up and instead let his head fall into his hands, you recognised the position. Hell, you were in it all the time when your brain was overloading. He meant it.

Never again would you say therapy was boring.

—---

Casey and Devan were cool. And you weren’t just saying that because they had bought you your coffee. Although that was also pretty cool, because you had maybe three dollars in your wallet. But now that you could actually just sit and talk with them? It was nice. It reminded you of sitting with Nicky.

They knew stories about Nicky that you hadn’t even remembered. Stories that, most likely, you had never known in the first place. You had known him as your big brother, as your best friend. But really, he had a whole life outside of you. He went on adventures, had two partners, experienced things that you hadn’t been old enough to experience with him.

Part of it hurt; you wouldn’t try to act like it didn’t. It sounded like he was happy. Really, truly, genuinely happy. Why wouldn’t he have told you about any of it? Did he not think you would be happy for him? That you wouldn’t be proud of him for having a life outside of the horrifying upbringing you had both been subjected to?

“You’re gonna leave me just like mom and dad.”

Oh. Right. That was why he hadn’t told you.

But the other part of you was still happy to get to hear the fun things he got to do. To know that he did get to live a fairly normal life. He got to be a teenager, got to grow up and actually enjoy things. He went to movies, went on dates, did fun things without having to worry about things.

Without having to worry about you.

Maybe meeting up with Casey and Devan wasn’t as fun as it originally sounded.

“How’s it going with your girlfriend?” Casey asked. He was the one that did most of the talking, though you had at least finally gotten a few things out of Devan over the course of coffee.

“Good,” you said without hesitation. “It’s going well.”

And it was. Aside from the typical issues with your fucking brain, you couldn’t really ask for more from Wednesday. In public she was still nearly as cold as she had been in Nevermore. Only close enough for people to know the two of you were in the same company. If you hadn’t already agreed to allow her to maintain her scary dog privileges, you would have teased her for the fact that she still stood just a little too close and let her knuckles brush against your thigh.

But in private, it was something entirely different. She still wasn’t incredibly physically loving, which you had known and accepted from the very beginning. No, her love was still something subtle, showing itself in the most subtle of ways. Back in the day, you wouldn’t have thought it would be enough to push past all the beliefs that you would never be loved. But now? No, now you knew it was more than enough; it was exactly what you needed.

“You met her at Nevermore, right?” Casey asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded. “Did you go there?” You asked. “Is that where you met Nicky?”

“Met him at a bookstore,” Devan said. Their gruff voice never failed to surprise you.

“That’s disgustingly cute,” you mumbled before taking a long drink of your coffee. “So you’re Normies?”

Even looking into your cup, you noticed the slightest flinch from Casey.

“We’re shapeshifters,” they said.

“The both of you?” You asked. They nodded. “Haven’t met very many of you.”

“That you know of,” Devan said.

You laughed humourlessly. “Suppose that’s a good point.”

The doors to the little cafe opened, jingling the little bell that hung from the doorframe. You all turned to look to see who was coming in - for no other reason than to be nosey - but your face fell when you saw Wednesday. She looked frazzled; that wasn’t right.

“Wends?” You asked, your head tilting slightly.

She looked around the room, and her shoulders only relaxed after meeting your eyes. But there was still something on her face that you couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t a typical look for her, far more… uptight? Her knuckles were more pale than usual as she practically ran to where you were sitting.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” She asked you, not even paying attention to Casey or Devan on the other side of the table.

“I mean, after my appointment, but yeah,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“You were here?” She asked again. “You left therapy?”

“Yes, Wednesday, I left therapy,” you said. You shifted until you were facing her from your place in the booth. “What happened?”

She hesitated. And it wasn’t like Wednesday to hesitate.

“Wednesday,” you said, a little louder. Not for the whole cafe to hear, but to grab her attention.

It worked.

“Shaun’s receptionist called a few minutes ago,” she said.

You let out an airy chuckle. “If that’s all, it’s probably because my card declined-”

“-They found a foot in his office.”

Oh. So it wasn’t a courtesy call.

“He was fine when I left,” you said softly, not really even speaking to anyone in particular. “Surely no one just… snuck in, right?”

Wednesday didn’t say anything.

Why was she not saying anything?

“Wednesday,” you said. Your tone sounded harsh; you didn’t mean to. “Did she accuse me?”

She didn’t answer, and it finally clicked what the look on her face was.

It was fear.

[svturn-exe]

some stuff abt my favorite iredeemable freak ^_^ uhhhhh some general warnings . lots of talk abt murder (he's a slasher it is what it is) some mention of/implied child abuse, vague reference to cannibalism, white man jumpscare

how kenny goes from revenge killing his abuser to just straight up serial killing:

▶kenny kills his old man & gets away with it

▶he wants to relive that moment of finally feeling like he had power over his father, but he's not a necromancer. so he goes for the next best thing: finding an older man to kill pov you are my dad (you're my dad) boogie woogie woogie style

▶eventually (after a couple more kills or smth) kenny is like man if im gonna keep this up and not get caught i have got to find a way to get them somewhere out of public (this is prob b4 he learns the art of breaking and entering)

▶kenny switches to primarily targeting older married men. because he needs to get his victims to go somewhere secluded and out of the way with him, and whats the one thing a young, pretty guy can offer older, unhappily married men that will get them to go somewhere alone with him in secret?

▶eventually through whatever means kenny has the realization that oh. this isn't limited to just dirty old men. i just Like Killing In General, and just about Anybody will follow you just about anywhere if you're cute enough and they think ur gonna let them hit ▶kenny officially enters his 'he should NOT be at the club' era

the mess kenny's trial causes:

▶the people living in foxhole are generally very frustrated with the police. aside from more general acab reasons, public opinion of the police department is very low bc there are so many murders/missing persons cases and no answers or any real progress being made. general consensus is that the police are incompetent (real and true tbh).

▶kenny's trial doesn't help the police salvage their image. he doesn't refute any of the allegations made against him, freely admitting to any murder they pin on him - and to be fair. he did commit a good amount of them. he also just as freely admits when he doesn't remember committing specific murders, but still goes 'yeah i probably did that' anyway, bc he isn't aware of vivian's existence yet ▶for his part, kenny doesn't care enough to dispute the crimes he Didn't commit. and hey, for all he knows? maybe he does sometimes just black out and eat people in the woods. genuinely weirder shit has happened to him ▶ken phoenix is sentenced to death. somehow it gets out to the public that ken was not conclusively deemed fit to stand trial, but was tried anyway. some believe kenny wasn't a murderer, and was in fact just a very, Very mentally ill man, sparking public outrage over the police's incompetence. but like, no guys. they actually got it right this time. it's just that there is a second freak out there

▶normally, death row inmates can be there for years, up to literal decades. kenny's execution was fast tracked - so many people have been dying/going missing & the police need a win. they want this guy dead asap so they can tell the public look! we got the guy he's dead the day is saved and we're definitely not incompetent :)smile . but then the killings continue, even though ken phoenix is (legally) dead

▶him going from trial to sentencing to death row to lethal injection so quickly contributes to public outrage, alongside the killings continuing even after kenny is "killed." the public's fuck-the-police meter is at an all time high, and there's a secret third freak looking to take advantage of that sentiment (hi simon ^_^)

other shit:

▶ken is vain in a very smug way. he knows he's got a cute face and uses it for evil ▶kenny's burns were definitely a lot more extensive when they were fresh, bc kiera and cindy Trapped him in a locked room in that house before lighting it the fuck up. and after a certain point the house just collapses and buries him in on-fire wood, and he just cooks in there for a bit b4 vivian comes along and picks him up by the scruff out of the smoldering wreckage ▶for a while, until they start to heal, kenny is just wiped the fuck out on whatever surface vivian dumps him on. bc existing hurts and he's in desperate need of aloe vera ▶kenny is 12 when his mother is murdered, 19 when he kills his father, and by the time he's arrested and put on trial, he's 23 and in his 2nd year of college. he's almost exactly 10 years younger than vivian ▶ken's pupils are stuck at maximum dilation, but his eyes are so dark it's normally impossible to tell. if a uv light is shined on his eyes, however, the thin rings of his irides can be seen. but good luck getting him to keep his eyes open long enough to see - his eyes are very sensitive to light, despite being so dark. this also contributes to him becoming mostly nocturnal after the lethal injection ▶your greatest self defense weapon against kenny is one of those super laser blast industrial flashlights. or one of those stupid strong laser pointers that can get you arrested if you shine them at an airplane. shine that shit in his eyes and sprint for your life ▶ken is very pale, has a far slower-than-average heart rate, runs cold, and doesn't blink very often. if need be, he can play a very convincing corpse ▶hypothetically, if somewhere who were, say, extra sensitive to psychic & supernatural phenomena were to come into direct contact with whatever it is that's keeping kenny alive and everybody's problem. it would not end well ▶after kenny is put to death, from a forensic standpoint, they have no fucking idea what's going on. the leading theory is that the real killer stole ken's corpse from the morgue and is dragging him around on a tour-de-stab to mock the police. in reality, that weasely twink just woke up in the morgue and walked out ▶during the sentencing hearing, as the judge is giving justification for why kenny's sentence is what it is, they make a comment along of lines of 'i would not be surprised if he had assisted his father in his mother's killing.' this pisses kenny the fuck off, and he attempts to get at the judge and kill them right then and there. he's cuffed down, but cuffs don't mean much to a guy who cares more about throttling you until you neck snaps than he does about not breaking his own wrists. ▶the first thing kenny does after he gets vivian to sew him back up and let him out the cabin is he's tracking down that fucking judge that Dared to imply he'd kill his mom and Obliterating them. bro is gonna turn them into a human jigsaw puzzle it's so over

[jeanmoreaux]

hey congrats finishing your degree! sis can you give me some advice how to push through finishing my thesis it is literally the only thing getting in the way of me graduating my damn masters

i know i shouldn't procrastinate but sometimes when i do think of it i genuinely believe i just get amnesia and i remember at very inconvenient and late times im just so lost

thanks & hi there!! oh, well, there really is no one solution or that helps everyone or would definitely work for you. i think it’s very important to fund out what exactly you’re struggling with: if it’s an overall time management issues (e.g. remembering to even work on your thesis etc.) then actually making a schedule and allotting your thesis work a specific time in the week/day could help. working big dates like deadlines to finish certain sections or chapters into this weekly/monthly plan could help too. maybe you’re lucky enough to have a friend who can act like a “thesis buddy” who regularly checks in on you and your progress (and in tumr you on theirs) so you feel that little bit of social press to actually have something to show the other person at the next meeting etc. it’s also more than okay to ask your thesis advisor to take on that role!! you can work out a realistic schedule in which you might hand in specific sections or have meetings on a specific chapter etc. if the problem is mainly not knowing where to start with the massive workload, making an action plan and dividing bigger tasks into subtasks, making small goals etc. are some ways to work around that.

if you’re struggling to actually sit down and do the work, things ofc are different. even if you have a time slot for your thesis work being productive in that time slot comes with other challenges or issues that require different solutions.

so, maybe in a first step it’s very important to kind of observe yourself and figure out at which specific points in the process of ‘writing your thesis’ you get stuck and the try to find solutions for handling these moments. when you have identified your problems, you can look for specific interventions that help you solve it. there’s also stuff online.

i have to admit tho i really did struggle A LOT with writing my thesis (haven’t been doing too good mentally last year) and the thing that really made me work on it was the external pressure of fixed deadlines (we only get two semester to work on our thesis and extension are rarely granted without good reason like long periods of illness etc.) and the social control of my advisor team. so don’t make yourself crazy thinking you’re the only one struggling with it. i can assure you Everyone i know who had to write a master’s thesis did encounter moments in which they wanted to rip out their hair and just say ‘fuck it’ and drop the whole thing. i don’t know anyone who had it all go over smoothly. we all hated it and we all got through somehow. and i truly believe so will you!!

[ahopkins1965]

Psalms 139:10 Commentary

Psalms 139:10 Commentary

I have decided to hold onto God’s Unchanging Hand.  This Bible verse is saying: Even your hand shall lead me and your right hand shall hold me.  I want all of you to know that if I hold onto God’s Hand, He shall guide me and lead me.  I am saying that my life belongs to God.  Jesus Christ is my Personal Savior and friend. 

Next, I have cried out for Jesus Christ to help me for over an hour and a half today.  Jesus Christ is my God, Savior, and Friend.  I have made a promise to walk with Him for the rest of my entire life.  I know that I am not a perfect human being, I am asking Jesus Christ to lead me in the Way that is Everlasting.  I am a 58-year-old man, who has a lot of common sense.  I am very intelligent, smart, gifted, and honest.  I have promise to lead at least one person or persons to the right path.

 I know that my life has been filled with ups and downs during the past 14 years now.  I will admit that I am losing my memory.  I know that I have to live for Him.  God is watching me as well as other people on Planet Earth.  I am very happy that I am walking with Jesus Christ, which is the Son of God.  My life at this point consists of personal trials and tribulations.  My life is based on His Guidance.  I have to read the Bible, say my prayers, and attend Church each time I get a chance.  Even though the weather might be raining and snowing outside, but I must make it my business to enter into His House of Praise.  However, the Temple of the Living God is inside of our hearts.  I must not forsake the assembly of the Saints.  I am supposed to fulfill His Great Commission in the 21st Century.

The Lord Jesus Christ died for the sins of Mankind.  God and the angels are rejoicing because I have turned my life over to the care of God.  I want you to know that my life has been sinful and dwelling in my guilt and transgressions.  Jesus Christ is holding my hand right now because I want Him to hold my hand for as long as I shall live.  This means that I have to pay my tithes and offerings to the Church.  I am walking in the Spirit.  I know that God is watching over me each day of my life.  I know that I feel much better right now because Jesus Christ is with me.

Moreover, I want all of you to know that I have to do everything in my power to do right.  I am ready to save lost souls that have gone astray.  This is because I went astray, and decided to live in the world.  At one point of my life, I was a backslider.  Jesus Christ has given me a new way of thinking.  I do not argue with anyone anymore.  I have to pray without ceasing. 

In Addition, I want to inform all of you that we should not drink alcohol and smoke marijuana as well as other drugs.  I have been clean and sober for a long period of time.  Proverbs 22:6 says: Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he shall not depart from it.  I attended Church all of my life; especially when I was a little boy.  My grandparents used to take me to Church with them all of the time.  I know that I had forsaken Jesus Christ.  The Lord Jesus Christ will never leave you nor forsake you.  My time is officially running out because I have Alzheimer’s Disease right now. 

This is the reason why I want to save as many people as I possibly can.  I want to inform all of you that I am feeling better right now.  I must set my mind on God’s Way of Thinking.  I love all of you very much. 

Finally, I want to inform all of you that I still have a long way to go in my Christian walk.  I must feed my mind on God’s Ways.  I must stay busy ministering to others.  I am asking all of you to please keep me in your prayers.  I have a mental illness as well as Alzheimer’s Disease right now. 

In Conclusion, I am saying that I have decided to follow Jesus.  I have to give Him my heart, mind, and soul.  I want to inform all of you that I have been hindered from my progress online and in my personal life.  I want to say that there are almost four billion organized criminals worldwide. 

This means that there are a group of people, who are taking advantage of the poor.  I will also admit that I got scammed out of over $18,000 dollars in Western Union Funds.  I want to inform all of you that women’s profiles are being compromised each day as we speak.

 This is my reason to hold onto God’s Unchanging Hand.  I have to allow God’s Word to communicate with me.  I must help other people.  I must listen to Church Sermons and Gospel Music each day of the week.

 My whole way of life has changed for the better.   I have to ask God to communicate for me and with me.  God Bless You!!  God Loves You and So Do I.  Please take good care of yourselves.  May the Lord Jesus be with you.

[mla0]

i LOVED the concept of the series

the collective was so fucking cool. the connection to the chess pieces, the pure black and white and heavily edited videos and music. especially the later collective videos, they're just SO well made

i liked the concept of noah more than the actual execution. he just had very different vibes from someone like vinny or michael and i definitely appreciated the change of scenery

also tribetwelve was more focused on the family tree and how it was basically passed down the bloodline, which felt like a cool parallel from marble hornets. both seem to kind of be like mental illness allegories, but while marble hornets focused more on the trauma and the fact that it can get anyone, tribetwelve focused a lot on how it can be passed down. it can also be a reading on generational trauma, and considering noah maxwell (and presumably other family members) are canonically jewish, i think there's more that could be said there, i'm just not qualified to be the one to do it

the way it handled like, different dimensions, different time periods, etc. was also really cool. the whole timeline thing and firebrands existence was really fucking cool to me and still is. i still love the weird time and space fuckery that was present in the series. sure EMH also had the iteration thing, but you SAW it in tribetwelve. the spinning spirals and fractals and different versions of noah running around and all kinds of shit that made it feel way more real and less theoretical or implied. i one hundred percent believe the collective and other horror elements of t12 were the best executed in terms of giving off the pure scale and chaotic abilities of powers and beings beyond our understanding. better than any other series before or since

i also liked adam's later acting, unfortunately. his acting was utter shit in the beginning, but as he progressed there was a later video where he started crying and couldn't burn or cut milo's journal because of the emotional pain, and i was shocked by how the acting had changed. i really felt for noah in that moment, and it's still probably one of my favorite moments in the series because it felt very raw and easy to empathize with

finally i just loev the like. structured game feeling of it. it's a chess game, with noah and firebrand on one side and the collective on the other. it felt less like noah was just fucking around doing whatever, and more like he was part of a larger game and forced to make "moves." it also (personally) made the collective very scary for me in a way habit wasn't. it was very hivemind-like and creepy. very calculated. and it also had a solid sense of noah MAYBE being able to LIVE and WIN if he outsmarts the collective. there's a goal in mind and objects at his disposal shrouded in mystery, and it's literally a fight for his life. his ONE life. we have no idea if he would or does reiterate, so it'd be likely if he died it's all over and the collective will move to their next victim

there's probably much more i could say but off the top of my head this is why i did and still do love tribetwelve. i've pretty much rewritten noah and tribetwelve's general story from the ground up and use that version to incorporate into my writing or maladaptive daydreams, because tribetwelve was one of my first slenderverse series, and i have to admit i always preferred it to EMH as a kid and probably still would if it weren't for adam. it had so much potential and i think it was really beginning to show it's insane abilities towards the end, and i'll never not be mad over how it crashed and burned

Genuinely curious about this so I’m gonna ask you guys,

If you are/were a fan of TribeTwelve, what did you like about the series?

[mulderscully]

*disclaimer: i wrote this based on the leaks and am publishing it after the episode airs because i have been dying to talk about it. some stuff could have been lost or confused in translation.

something to be said about nandor confusing guillermo's boyfriend as his best friend and being jealous of that because we know nandor sees guillermo as his best friend, then him deciding he needs to turn marwa into freddie in order to be happy. maybe because he sees that guillermo was happy and thought if he duplicated it it would make him happy too, without fully grasping how many boundaries he has crossed. he has so much love for guillermo and he genuinely has no idea how to deal with it or where to place it.

he puts marwa/freddie on the trip to see the world, which was what he wanted, and what he wanted with guillermo and it's so clear how badly what he lost in that trip haunts him and i think he doesn't understand why it didn't affect guillermo the same way. why guillermo was able to find happiness with someone else while he just became more miserable. him being so emotional sending marwa/freddie away is really interesting because we know he and marwa did not have any real connection, he did not care about her. he also did not know freddie. that emotion is about nandor and his continued sense of emptiness and longing for something he cannot allow himself to admit, which is how bad he wanted that trip with guillermo and wants guillermo in general. he can't have guillermo because he can't admit this, so he wants the person closest to guillermo. he wants guillermo all for himself, but he cannot verbalize that because that means actually understanding himself and being vulnerable - and in his actions to avoid his feelings he keeps pushing guillermo further away.

i think guillermo still loves nandor, he has loved him almost half his life and that doesn't just go away - but i think that this season at the beginning was about starting to truly break the familiar/master relationship and have them be friends and equals, but as the season went on they fell back into old habits and there needed to be this final straw to make guillermo be fully fed up and set up for season five, where i am guessing nandor will actually have to do a shitton of self reflection and growth and groveling. i kinda expected that to happen this season, but it is hard to fit that into 10 23 min long episodes.

what's interesting is that, i don't feel like guillermo is distraught at losing freddie per se, he barely mentiond him all season, but more upset that nandor still doesn't respect him the way he should and that has led to the end of the one thing in 13 years that was 100% his. but i feel like guillermo's true feelings are hard gage for me because they've really had him be distant with his emotions in terms of like.... everything.

but i think it all just comes down to nandor thinking he is showing guillermo love by NOT turning him because he thinks being a vampire is a curse and guillermo thinking nandor doesn't love or respect him because he won't turn him yet still wants to keep him all to himself, not understanding that nandor feels like if he turns guillermo then guillermo will leave for good because he got all he wanted from nandor.

i don't know really think nandor's actions this season are excusable per se, esp this episide, but i do think they are understandable. not only is nandor a vampire, he is also stupid (canon) and he is also deeply mentally ill. he has made a lot of progress but the fact that he has all these hidden desires and this quest for perfection that he thinks he can reach with wishes and magic, make him backslide and hurt the one he loves most. and he is going to have to face true accountability for everything that has happened this season, which i look forward to.

i do have a very, very icky feeling about what they did to marwa. from making her a shell of a person who just likes what nandor likes to LITERALLY turning her into a white man. i always kinda thought she and freddie would run off together and fall in love, because it feels kinda fitting for nandor and guillermo's false romantic leads, but not like this.

i am giving this "ending" for her the benefit of the doubt because i don't think it's over. nandor still has two wishes and i am pretty confident marwa and freddie will return in s5. i get the sense that the s3 finale will have consequences for the rest of the show and the trip that nandermo had stolen from them will continue to plague them and their relationship as well as everyone who their relationship impacts for a while.

i understand being angry at nandor, but i genuinely find him so interesting because while he has done a lot of morally horrible things i do NOT think he had any malicious intent and i don't think he wanted to hurt anyone- but he has and he is gonna have to cope with that. he isn't beyond redemption (if you wanna think of it like that) or past winning guillermo back but i think he is gonna have a real wake up call to how selfish and hurtful he has been before any of that can happen.

[missmentelle]

What makes a codependent relationship? Is it healthy for someone to rely on you as a constant source for support, talking all the time? Getting seperation anxiety and experiencing extreme stress when they are without you? Is it selfish to not necessarily reciprocate that stress?

Let's start by defining what a codependent relationship is.

In a codependent relationship, one person (the codependent) consistently enables the dysfunction of another person, often assuming a "caretaker" or "protector" role. The dysfunctional person usually struggles with a serious issue that may make it difficult for them to function on their own - often addiction, mental illness, or serious underachievement/irresponsibility - and the codependent partner will make extreme personal sacrifices to take care of this person and shield them from the consequences of their actions.

Codependent relationships aren't always romantic relationships - they can be found between friends, parents/children, coworkers, other family members, or any other type of relationship. Wherever they exist, are very unhealthy for both of the people involved in them. The codependent person focuses so heavily on the dependent person's needs that they entirely neglect their own, while the dysfunctional person is enabled to continue being dysfunctional and is often prevented from making any kind of progress toward recovery.

Common traits of codependent people include:

a fear of being alone. They often seek out relationships with people who will depend on them and encourage that dependency to ensure that the other person will not leave them.

extreme fixation on the feelings and needs of others. They often view their own needs as unimportant or secondary and prioritize the needs of others, even when this has not been asked of them.

a compulsive need to "fix" the problems of others. when they see a person who is struggling, they feel the overwhelming need to step in and start "fixing" the situation, even if doing so is not their responsibility.

low self-esteem. They often have chronic issues with self-esteem, and don't feel that they "deserve" to have their own needs prioritized. Their self-esteem is often tied to their ability to maintain their caretaking role at all costs, even when it is incredibly harmful to them.

controlling and perfectionist tendencies. Codependent people often struggle to cope when they don't have high amounts of control in their relationships, or when things aren't done "just so". They gravitate towards caretaking roles where they have high amounts of control, and struggle to let go.

external locus of control. They often feel powerless in their lives, and feel that they simply have to accept their circumstances and the way that others treat them.

high capacity for denial. They often cannot or will not see problems that are right in front of them, and refuse to acknowledge the seriousness of a situation - the house will be burning down around them and they'll refuse to even admit that it's getting a little warm.

a history of interpersonal trauma or abuse. Codependency is often a learned behaviour - many people who fall into these patterns experienced codependency from their parents, or witnessed their parents' codependent relationship at a young age. Many have also experienced extreme emotional abuse, from their parents or a past partner.

a strong need for approval. Codependents need to be liked. They need approval. Doing things for others and letting others walk on them is the best way they know how to gain that.

boundary issues. They often cannot and do not set personal boundaries - they take a "Giving Tree" approach to helping others, endlessly giving even when it seriously hurts them. At the same time, they may overstep boundaries to try to fix others' issues, even when it is not their responsibility to get involved.

a lack of personal identity. The codependent relationship often becomes the focus of their whole life. They invest so much time and energy into it that without it, they wouldn't know what to do with themselves.

a tendency to be drawn to close relationships with substance addicts, alcoholics, people with personality disorders, or other codependents. Codependent relationships are usually not a one-off thing - they tend to be a recurring pattern in a person's life. In particular, people with untreated BPD often seek out relationships with codependent people, as they tend to prefer relationships with people who don't set personal boundaries and are willing to provide the extreme amounts of reassurance and caretaking that they need. People with BPD also tend to be codependent themselves, further complicating things.

an appearance of being "addicted to chaos". Codependent people often appear to gravitate toward drama, dysfunction and chaos. Having relationships with people who have healthy boundaries, autonomy and stable personal lives often holds little interest for them - they prefer relationships where they feel needed and depended upon.

Codependent people often have a "martyr" or "victim" complex - they often feel that it is their lot in life to suffer for others, that self-sacrifice is a key part of their identity, or that suffering is simply a part of loving someone. The idea that they should set expectations in a relationship, leave a relationship where they aren't treated well or have an identity of their own outside a relationship is something they struggle with. They often hop from codependent relationship to codependent relationship, becoming steadily more beaten down and burnt out in the process - breaking free from codependent tendencies can be a long process, and often requires professional help.

There is a lot of variety in what codependent relationships look like. Some examples of codependency in action would include:

A mother allows her chronically unemployed and irresponsible 38-year-old son to live with her, and does everything for him. She never confronts her son about the fact that he doesn't contribute financially or help out around the house, even though it's placing a great financial and personal strain on her. When other family members ask why her adult son isn't taking steps to get his life together, the mother becomes highly defensive, and may make up lies about the progress he's made, or insist that he's still young and that this is normal for his age.

A woman assumes the role of "caregiver" for her unstable and very mentally ill partner. She bends over backwards to keep her partner happy, and doesn't seem to notice or mind that her partner never does the same thing in return. Her partner constantly burns bridges with their own family or friends with their explosive anger, and she rushes in to make excuses and try to fix the situation. When friends raise concerns about the relationship, she brushes them off, insisting that she's happy and everything is fine.

The parent of an autistic teenager infantilizes their autistic child, and insists that the child needs much more care than they actually do. Being an "autism parent" is a huge part of their identity. The child has never been allowed to attend an overnight camp, go for sleepovers or stay at home with a babysitter, as the parent is highly fearful and believes that other people will not look after their child properly. The parent strongly resists all of their child's attempts to gain more independence, insisting that it's too dangerous or that the child cannot handle it.

The US version of the television show Shameless is almost entirely centered around codependent relationships. The main characters are all in codependent relationships with their alcoholic and dysfunctional father, Frank. Although the main characters are often angry with their father, they constantly allow him back into their lives no matter how horribly he treats them - at times, they give him money, provide him with alcohol, let him move back into their house, visit him in the hospital and cover him with a blanket when he passes out on the floor. The boundaries they set with him never last long, and they always resume having a relationship with him, even after he does things that most people would find unforgivable.

So with that said: is it healthy for someone to rely on you as a constant source of support?

It sort of depends.

Relationships are supposed to be a reliable source of support for both of the people in them. That's sort of what they're for. I worry sometimes that the internet is making us too transactional in our relationships, and too quick to think that someone is taking advantage of us if they constantly turn to us for support. It's normal to find comfort in your relationships, and to turn to your loved ones whenever you need someone to talk to. I talk to my partner, my parents and my closest friends every day - that often means mentioning things that we’re stressed or anxious about, or venting about problems in our lives. Sometimes people are going through something and need extra support for a while - that’s just a normal part of close relationships. 

With that said, there are times when someone leans on you too hard. If helping someone is starting to take a serious toll on your own life, that’s a problem. Every relationship needs boundaries; if your boundaries are consistently pushed or broken in the name of supporting that person, it may be time for a serious talk. Staying up until 4am to talk someone through a crisis is fine if this is a rare occurrence. Staying up until 4am to talk someone through a crisis multiple times per week, every single week, is an issue - that’s you sacrificing your own need for sleep, and something needs to change. Are you willing to set boundaries and balance your own needs with your friends’ needs? Is the other person willing to respect boundaries, or do they lash out with anger, guilt-trips, accusations of not caring for them or threats to harm themselves? 

If you and a friend are both willing to communicate and work on establishing boundaries, I think it’s fine for one person to need a lot of support. If the relationship is damaging for you and one or both of you just isn’t able or willing to discuss boundaries, that’s a sign there could be some codependence going on. 

A person experiencing separation anxiety and extreme stress when you aren’t around could be an issue - but again, it depends on how it’s being handled. Is your friend able to cope with this anxiety on their own, or are they constantly putting this anxiety on you? Are they blowing up your phone and getting anxious if you’re 10 minutes late answering a text? Do they ever try to guilt-trip you or blame you for triggering their separation anxiety? Do they accuse you of not caring about them if you try to take time for yourself? Are they jealous of your other relationships? Is their extreme stress taking a toll on your life and preventing you from having other relationships or having personal boundaries and space? If your friend is willing to work on boundaries and find healthy coping mechanisms for their stress, this might be something you can overcome. If your friend is burning you out and one or both of you is unable to set boundaries, this might be a very unhealthy situation. 

Not feeling the same stress and anxiety, however, is definitely not selfish. It’s not healthy for someone to feel that level of extreme stress and separation anxiety - it’s not your friend’s fault that they experience that, but it’s still very unhealthy. The fact that someone feels an unhealthy attachment to you does not mean that you should feel an unhealthy attachment right back. No one benefits from that. In any healthy relationship, both people have a life and identity outside the relationship. This is, fundamentally, the issue at the core of many different unhealthy relationships - whether they are codependent, enmeshed, or abusive.

 Being so attached to someone that you can’t handle them needing friends, hobbies, space and independence isn’t a compliment or something to aspire to - it’s just unhealthy.

Hope this answers your question! MM

[makeallthingsyours]

Vulcan headcanons: Kolinahr

Kolinahr is probably the only ‘vulcan discipline’ most people heard of, however what it actually involves is rarely well underatood.

The process of removing emotion is not achieved through their supression, but through complete acceptance of reality. It’s essence is well described by the passage from Surak’s Teachings:

Learn reason above all

Learn clear thought:

Learn to know what is

from what seems to be,

and what you wish to be.

This is the key to everything:

The truth of reality

The reality of truth

What is will set you free.

A person who achieved Kolinahr is still a living, sentient being, not an organic computer. While do not feel emotions, having achieved a state in which every thought and action is based on logic, they still have values they believe in, that become the main reason for taking action. Every decision is made by applying those values to a given situation. While those values may vary form person to person, those are generally included :

- preservation of life and dignity

- pursuit of truth and knowledge

- creating new things

While the list may seem short, it is possible to derive a lot from them on logic alone.

Eg.1

Life and dignity should be preserved

T’Lara is sick and cannot prepare her own food or leave her house;

T’Lara’s physical health will suffer if she doesn’t recieve sustainance and her mental health will suffer if she does not have contact with other people.

Decline in health can be hamfull to both one’s life and dignity.

Thus, to preserve life and dignity I will bring T’Lara food for the duration of her illness and keep her company.

The people generally refered to as Kolinahr Masters, that sit on the Cabinet or in sometimes in the Federation Council are adepts of the discipline advanced both in age and experience. Most of them, hovewer, resides in monasteries where they teach others. The wider term – kolinahru, refers to everyone who has achieved the discipline. The term adept can be used interchangably.

It is worth noting, that among the kolinahru, there is no strict ‘ranking system’ and the title ‘Master’ is ussually simply an indicator of the function one serves within the society – that of a teacher.

There is no set time it should take to acheve Kolinahr. Ussually, it takes anywhere between two to six years to attain the discipline, although there are exeptions on both ends.

There are three phases in the Kolinahr training, meant to give the person a range of tools and mechanisms to build upon and assistance when needed, nevertheless it is important to mention, that whether or not someone will be succesfull is in their hands only. There is no way to force someone into the discipline.

The progression goes: Aspirant – Novice – Initiate – Adept (kolinahru)

One becomes an Aspirant the moment they are admitted to the training by one of the Masters. (The ceremony is described at length in the Kir’Shara.)

Upon entering the monastery, an aspirant takes very few personal items including a symbolical ‘one change of clothing’ - the only thing that would be necesary should one decide to leave. Everything else is provided.

This phase consists mostly of physical work and extensive studies in logic. It is common to see Aspirants to Kolinahr swarming in the monastery gardens pruning plomeek or performing masonry work around the premises. It is meant to prepare them for the demanding regimen of both physical and mental training that awaits them later on as well as give them time to contemplate whether or not they wish to continue. Many resign at that point, and it is not seen as a shamefull thing.

Once an Aspirant is deemed ready by the Master(s) in charge of their training, they enter Noviciate.

That period within itself is separated into parts and highly ritualised, different stages indicated by changes in clothing, moving from one place in the monastery to another, etc.

Fokarikau-wek (Period of strenghtening)

A Novice moves from the group dormitory of Aspirants into a cell.

They begin a regimen of physical and mental exercises designed to distance from both physical and emotional stimuli. This time also includes periods of fasting generally not present during aspirancy.

There are two common types of physical exercise, one somewhat reminescent of Earth sport gimnastics with the use of bars and other such equipment and the other more reminescent of yoga. They serve both as a way of strenghtening the body and as a way of developing mental discipline.

Mental exercises range from building block structures within one’s mind while maintaining the laws of physics to listing all possible outcomes of a hypotethical situation, but generally tend to focus on developing the ability to think quickly and analitically and maintain focus for prolonged periods of time.

Sadalaya (release)

During this period, a person gradually works through their memories and emotions they have experienced in the past to achieve closure and acceptance necesary for achieving Kolinahr.

The primary mean is, of course, meditation, but the methods also include many activities that on Earth would be called ‘cathartic’, such as writing, creating art, music (there is an interesting text written by T’Prion regarding the use of music in ataining Kolinahr), and again, intense physical exercise.

During this period, it is expected that a person may experience strong fluctuations of their emotional state. Because of this, Novices are closely monitored at all times. They don’t carry any potentially dangerous objects on themselves. That results in a characteristic method of tying or braiding hair without the use of accesories (sadalaya-kal).

For the sake of limiting emotional transference, Novices at that stage live in the most isolated parts of a monastery.

Nenat-tala (most important values)

The core values from which all motivation will be derived once Kolinahr is achieved are established at this point.

A very important element is developing a strong sense of self, separate from emotions, one’s body, etc. Below an example of a meditation that might be utilised :

I am; I simply am.

I think, but I am not my thoughts. I am.

I believe, but I am not my beliefs. I am.

I feel, but I am not my feelings. I am.

Pain and joy are transient, I am enduring.

I do, but I am not my actions. I am.

I experience, but I am not my experience. I am.

I want, but I am not my desires. I am.

I have but I am not my possessions. I am.

My body is not me. I am.

I live, but I am not my life. I am.

I was and I will be, but now I am.

I am not that. I am my self.

I alone am. I simply am.

I am; I simply am.

(I have not written that I found it on Wikiversity. I think it captures the general idea.)

Once a Novice has succesfully worked through their momories and emotions, developed the ability to detach themselves from stimuli and established strong core values and sense of self, after a verivication through a mind meld they become an Initiate.

The initiation ritual generally lasts the equivalent of two Earth weeks. Before it takes place a person is supposed to ‘take leave’ of people they were close to such as family, friends, acquitances etc. so that the thought of them would not disturb the process.

It is expected that those meetings may be quite emotional, and it is generally accepted, as the point is acheving closure.

Once the Novice had ‘taken leave’ of everyone they wished to, the ritual can start.

First, they spend 48 hours in meditation in a dark room devoid of any distractions, so that they reflect on any emotions within them and make sure that their motivations are the correct ones.

When that period passes, the Master who oversaw their Noviciate brings them a bowl of saya, a herbal extract that lowers the inhibitions and makes telepathic contact easier. The Novice can freely express everything that they still need to. All that they say or show remains under complete confidentiality to which there are no exeptions.

After the effects of the saya wear off, the person bathes and recieves a new set of robes, now marking them as an Initiate. Sometimes this part involves cutting of shaving hair, but the custom varies between monasteries (also, Initiates that decide to move to a place with harsh climate would keep their hair for additional protection from the elements).

Once that is done, the Initiate mind melds with several Adepts who share their own experiences in attaining Kolinahr with them. That is the longest part of the ritual.

After that, the Initiate leaves (either into the caverns of Gol, Kel plains or some other isolated place depending on the circumstances) to continue their meditations, studies and gradually remove all remaining emotions from themselves. That period is called the Time of Truth.

Once they are succesfull, they return to their monastery so that their achievement may be verified by the Masters.

(Again, ceremony described at lenghts in Kir’Shara.)

When the ceremony is complete, an Adept returns to the society to serve whatever role they are suited for, be it a teacher, judge, gardener or a scribe.

Some Clans practice ritual ‘welcoming back’ of a person that left tu pursue Kolinahr. It is a valued thing and a source of (more or less) concealed pride for a Clan to have a kolinahru among them.

- The kolinahru see each other as equals, there is no real hierarchy among them and each tends to fill a role they are the best suited to.

- There is no differentiation between kolinahru from dirrerent monasteries, they are welcome to come and live in any of them. It is also a custom amont Vulcan people, that if a kolinahru asks for a place to sleep at night, they are ussually granted such. It also applies to other things. Sholuld a kolinahru come to a vulcan household and inform that they need a ladder, they would be ussually given a ladder (and more often than not it would be given back).

- There are cases of members of species other than Vulcan succesfully attaining Kolinahr. Once they did, they were not treated any differently than other kolinahru.

- It is a custom, that when a kolinahru passes through the marketplace, the merchants would give them food, drink and in some cases other items that they see fit. That sometimes results in stiuations like the ‘embroidery endeavour’. (When a merchant gave fifteen running meters of silk to Adept T’Rina, all Adepts of the small monastery near Ta’Raan spent three months embroidering a set of curtains to hang in the main hall.)

- While the kolinahru usually wear a certain type of robes, especially while in the monastery, it is just as common that they wear normal clothing suited to the circumstances, or if they are also a member of another organization, a uniform of that organization.

If you have any thoughts or ideas regarding kolinahr or Vulcans in gereral, please, share them.

Live Long and Prosper

[coldest-blood]

I’m sort of getting the vibe that you don’t really even know what you believe in this conversation? I mean you’ve gone from “we know she was institutionalized” to “was she EVEN in the system? She very well could have, but she very well could have not,” and back to "I don't doubt one second she spent some time in one ward at least.” And on the issue of, as I said mental healthcare being frequently bad for patients, you’ve gone from unequivocally stating, "it's fundamentally not true anymore,” to acknowledging “a lot of public places are still hideous.” Maybe it’s just your wording, but you’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit confused.

But on that second point, private facilities being better than public ones: that’s not a new thing either. In fact, that’s literally the entire premise of another book: Voluntary Madness by Norah Vincent. It’s nonfiction: she was a journalist who admitted herself to three different psych wards; state run, private, and what she calls an “upscale retreat”; to compare the experiences, and she found, obviously, that the more expensive it was, the more genuinely helpful it was. That book came out in 2008. Literally the same year as TAFWVG.

And I’m not trying to deny that there HAVE been positive changes in the past few decades. (As I said before, the public discourse around mental health has obviously vastly improved in that time, and mental illness is of course much less stigmatized than it used to be.) But any changes that have happened on a systemic level have only been because of people who do openly discuss the horrible things that have happened to them in those places. People, you know. Like Emilie. I don’t really find it that weird if she hasn’t publicly acknowledged what small progress has been made since the 2000’s, given how much they absolutely pale in comparison to the magnitude of the problems that we still face, at least here in America.

As for the whole autobiographical novel thing, I’m honestly not sure you really know what that means? I hope that doesn’t come off as rude, but pretty much the whole second half of your reply was confusing to me and I’m not really sure what you’re trying to say. Like “semi-autobiographies”/ “semi-autobiographical novels” pretty much ARE fictional novels based on true events. If the author acknowledges that it’s a “semi-autobiographical novel”, which she does, that is the same as explaining that it’s a fictionalization.

I don’t know what the context was for the comment from your lit teacher, but it strikes me as incredibly odd considering that “mixing reality and fiction the way she does” is very much a long and well worn literary tradition. For instance, ‘The Bell Jar’ and ’The Yellow Wallpaper’, two books which have almost certainly lent influence to TAFWVG (I know she’s mentioned The Yellow Wallpaper specifically as inspiration), are both semi-autobiographical, featuring experiences the authors actually had and, at least in Sylvia Plath’s case, characters that were based on people she knew, with their names changed. And in both of those cases, you could even argue that that kind of muddling of reality, mixing true events with fiction, is possibly even an intentional thematic choice, as they are both stories about the protagonists slowly going insane and losing their grip on reality, an experience that is then mirrored by the reader’s inability to parse fact from fiction. Hmm, kind of sounds like another book I know…….

I do find her constant revisions annoying, but not necessarily indicative of anything suspicious or sinister. For example, with the age change. In the original versions of the book she was in her 20s. According to Emilie in this Goodreads q&a, she was at some point working with an agent who convinced her that they should try to market the book towards a slightly younger audience, and so changes were made with that in mind, including removing the cutting diaries and making book Emilie a teenager. I personally don’t think we have any reason to think she’s lying about this, because another revision she agreed to for this purpose was removing all the swearwords lol, which I can’t really imagine her deciding to do on her own. And when they parted ways, a lot of that stuff went back in, including her age going back up. And as far as the Veronica thing goes: if I had written a novel that I was actively working on turning into a musical, and in that novel one of the main characters was based on and named after a friend of mine, and then I had a (presumably major) falling out with that friend. I mean, idk about you, but I might feel inclined to change the name too. I personally don’t think that says anything about her character as person. So maybe we just have to agree to disagree on that one.

idk I’m running out of steam on this one. sorry for another massive wall of text lol. please don’t feel like you have to respond if it is overwhelming to you. and in fact, I might well leave it at that myself. I’m not sure what else there really is for me to say that I haven’t said already. At the very least, thanks for having a conversation with me about it! Even if there’s some stuff we disagree on, it’s nice to have some actual back and forth about it, and not just be two people on the internet screaming at each other!! lol

@watercolourferns

sorry, I did delete the post because I realize I was a bit heated. not trying to target anyone, just express my point of view, and maybe have a conversation. I'm mentally ill too, I think probably there aren't many EA fans who aren't, tbh. if other people have access to effective recourse when doctors mistreat them, obviously that's a good thing, that should be the standard in every case. but I still seriously don't understand what the point is of just restating that hospital administration exists, especially in response to someone else on that post sharing their own experience of how ineffective it can be. I will admit, I haven't read the more recent revisions of her book, but I can't imagine she's changed so much as to stray terribly far from the message "mental healthcare is still frequently bad for patients". Again, I don't want to attack you personally, however the original confession IS blatant victim blaming, and I am genuinely confused by your responses. I'm putting this under a read more so you don't feel like I'm putting you on blast or anything, but if it makes you feel any better to know, this is a blog that only has 2 followers anyway

[icedflames]

Hello beautiful, can you list all the reasons why Elriel is not toxic and why it won’t be a toxic relationship. I’m tired of hearing people say that Elriel is toxic.

Alright, hang on... This is a long one. 

“Azriel just wants Elain for sex.”

False. Until ACOSF, we had no indication that Azriel had sexual feelings for Elain. Based on his thoughts in the bonus chapter, his actions throughout ACOSF, we can infer that Azriel has romantic feelings for Elain. His friend. 

The following scenes, read together, imply that Azriel has feelings for Elain beyond platonic or sexual feelings (I have only included my favorites for the sake of brevity):

ACOWAR

But Azriel asked softly, “What about Elain?” Something cold went through me. (Chp. 63)

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” (Chp. 64)

The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. (Chp. 65)

She let out a sob at the sight of Elain, still in Azriel’s arms. (Chp. 65)

Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade— Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. (Chp. 69)

ACOFAS

Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. [...] “Azriel remained at the window. [...] Azriel said, turning from the garden window at last. (Chp. 16)

Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.” (Chp. 12)

I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s—the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.” (Chp. 19)

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.” (Chp. 20)

ACOSF

“Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?”

Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian blew out a breath. “I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then.” [...] Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. (Chp. 20)

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.” (Chp. 22)

He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why. (Chp. 22)

“No. But we need to summon Lucien,” Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit. (Chp. 31)

Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. (Chp. 58)

I also want to add... That the notion that Azriel only has sexual feelings is immediately disproven by a close reading of the bonus chapter:

Rhys bared his teeth. "So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck  someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her." 

Azriel snarled softly.

Azriel snarled in response to Rhys’ suggestion that his feelings are only sexual. The entire scene was Rhys not understanding that Azriel actually had feelings for Elain. Rhys even suggested that Azriel still had feelings for Mor when Cassian had noted that Azriel no longer pined for Mor. 

To add, Azriel is not going antagonize Rhys and potentially kick off a feud between courts if he only wanted Elain for sex. 

ALSO!!!!

AZRIEL IS NOT GOING TO DECLARE HIS LOVE FOR ELAIN IN A BONUS CHAPTER. NO AUTHOR WILL EVER GIVE AWAY A MAJOR PLOT POINT/TWIST IN A BONUS CHAPTER. THAT WILL BE IMPORTANT AND WILL BE SAID IN THE NEXT BOOK!

Cassian never admitting his feelings for Nesta in Wings and Embers. Hell, Nesta kicked him in the balls. But we don’t doubt Nessian, now do we?

I answered another anon here comparing Wings and Embers to Azriel’s bonus chapter, comparing the themes and overall feel. 

“Azriel feels entitled to Elain as the third sister.”

False. Azriel began to show interest in Elain prior to Nesta and Cassian getting together. Please see the quotes above if you don’t believe me. Also, please see my post on the progression of their relationship here. 

Azriel is the first person to figure out what Elain’s powers were. He pulled her from her trance. Immediately after the seer reveal, we start to see Elain revert back to normal. 

Azriel is the one who defends Elain against scrying, a very dangerous thing in ACOTAR may I remind you, when she is not there to defend herself.

Azriel is the one who would sit with Elain outside in the gardens. 

Azriel lent Elain his most prized possession to keep her safe during the war. 

“Azriel coddles her.”

False. Azriel gave Elain truth teller to defend herself. I’d hardly call that coddling.

Let’s take a look at that scene that misguidedly causes people to think that Azriel “coddles” Elain.

Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“But Nesta should?” Cassian growled.

Is Cassian coddling Nesta? No. They both have the same reaction. 

The coddling Elain experiences is from the Inner Circle constantly thinking she’s meek and reduces her to a simple girl who likes to garden. 

“It doesn’t matter what I think. Go back to Feyre and your little garden.”

and then when Nesta refuses to let Elain scry for the trove:

“Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

Very different scenarios. It’s one thing to be protective (one of SJM’s  favorite trope for romantic love interests). It’s another to belittle a person and then not let them grow. That is what Elain is referring to. That is the coddling she cannot stand. 

“Azriel is too messed up mentally to be with anybody.”

False. This is demonstrably false. It is fanon. When this argument is used, it’s used to discredit Elain as a love interest and prop Gwyn up. If Azriel is too messed up to be with Elain, he’s too messed up to be with anybody. Period.

Nesta parallels Azriel in a lot of ways. And everybody loves Nesta and Cassian’s relationship now. Azriel does not have any of the mental illnesses the WebMD doctors come up with every other day. At the most, he has issues with his self worth and possible depression. At the most. 

Saying that a character cannot be in a romantic relationship due to his mental health directly implies that individuals who are suffering with mental health issues cannot get into romantic relationships. That’s wrong and that’s mean.

In Conclusion

Elain and Azriel went from being strangers, to friends, to now possible lovers in a span of two years. 

Their relationship is the most realistic one SJM has written. Nothing about them is toxic. They are kind and considerate of one another. Their feelings have slowly progressed and there are barriers to their relationship (namely, Elain’s mating bond to Lucien). 

There is a difference between not liking Elain and Azriel together (an opinion) and saying Elain and Azriel are toxic together (a falsehood). 

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

the last of my thoughts on the homecoming au, the au where maedhros and maglor are taken back to tirion at the end of the war of wrath and proceed to be relentlessly abused by elves more interested in them being ‘normal’ than happy. it’s pretty much exactly as dark as you’d expect from that description, lots of medical/caretaker abuse towards the mentally ill, just a horrible situation in general. one last time, @sunflowersupremes wrote the original au this is an extrapolation from, and @outofangband listened to me blather on about this for ages and contributed lots of ideas of their own. part 1 is here, part 2 is here. this the last part, it isn’t quite as intense as part 2, but it’s a lot more hopeless. also there’s some off-screen torture

on the first post i made about this au, i got some comments to the effect of ‘oh this will only last until person x bails them out’

there were several suggestions - fingon, nerdanel, any of the ainur. it seems like there are a lot of people who’d want to get maedhros and maglor out of this nightmare

seems. these aren’t necessarily my usual interpretations of their characters, but for the purposes of this au i can easily imagine a finrod who already bore a grudge over the whole letting-their-younger-brothers-steal-his-kingdom incident and subsequently heard the version of the nirnaeth where the fëanorians left everyone else to die. he is the only other person in the palace who knew beleriand, and he loathes them so viciously he can barely stand to look at them. they’re lucky he doesn’t do worse

i can easily imagine a nerdanel who was already having trouble processing what her husband and sons did at alqualondë when eärendil and elwing told her every awful thing they’d done since in the span of half an hour. she smashed all their statues, burned all their gifts, and curled up sobbing in a ruined house, wondering why she was such a terrible mother her children grew into demons

and this isn’t long after that, that wound is still fresh. whatever vain hopes she held that the boys she loved were somewhere in there are shattered when she sees them, and they’re talking and laughing just like they did when they were young

like nothing had happened. like nothing had changed. like the monsters had always been waiting patiently for their chance to strike

(they just didn’t want her to see the things they’d become)

i can easily imagine a fingon who is blazingly furious with maedhros over the later kinslayings. he spends most of their only meeting railing at maedhros, and the apologia his caretakers offer up only makes him angrier

so does the fact that maedhros won’t defend himself, won’t even raise his voice. does none of this matter to him? did it ever?

(it does. but maedhros knows what will happen if he yells at his cousin, and he is just so exhausted)

fingon is eventually asked to leave. maedhros’ minders tell him that if he can’t keep his temper around their patient, they’re going to have to cut off contact until maedhros is in a better mental state. fingon snaps that that’s just fine by him, and storms off into the city, trying to hold back his tears

the ainur, now, the ainur would definitely drag them out of the palace and haul them up to the máhanaxar. finarfin’s managed to get as much out of eönwë

what would happen to them after that, eönwë refuses to say. finarfin suspects he doesn’t know, and none of the valar will until they’ve had a chance to actually, like, hold a trial

even so, it becomes pretty obvious to finarfin fairly early on that the noldor simply can’t give the brothers the help they need. it’s plain to see that they’re very unhappy and they’re recovering slowly if at all. whatever the valar decide to do with them, odds are good they’d end up in some permutation of elf afterlife therapy, with well-practiced carers and the family they’ve lost. for their sake, and the sake of the people around them, handing them over to the valar would clearly be the best option

except finarfin doesn’t. he keeps his nephews in his palace, where they break things and make messes and generally give their caretakers constant headaches. when asked why, he always talks about the soul-deep terror on maglor’s face when he asked him not to give them to the valar

he’s not lying about that. but he does have other motives

there’s lots of suppositions in finarfin’s reasoning. there’s every chance the valar would throw them into the deepest depths of mandos until the second music. there’s every chance maedhros would choose to disappear into the woods and never trouble court again

but if the valar do decide to send them to lórien with no limits on their movement, and if maedhros does still harbour nelyafinwë’s political ambitions...

the closest finarfin has gotten to admitting it, even to himself, is saying that the noldor have enough problems right now, they don’t need a succession crisis on top of everything else. sometimes he’ll joke about not wanting maedhros to set up another functionally autonomous military government out in the wilderness

but it’s hard to deny that a maedhros, free to act, with his head screwed on straight, could potentially be the single biggest threat to finarfin’s crown

not that he doesn’t want his nephews to get better! it’s heartrending to see the pain they’re in, he sincerely wants to see them happy

he’d just prefer them to be happy in a way that's... convenient

maedhros and maglor’s contact with the outside world is kept to a strict minimum and heavily monitored when it does happen. they’re only allowed to visit the public parts of the palace when their caretakers know exactly who’s going to be there and if they can be trusted to not make a fuss about the brothers’ presence

it’s all in the interest of keeping the peace, you understand. maedhros’ followers are difficult to handle at the best of times, if they somehow got it into their heads that the last of their lords were being held captive in the palace...

well, finarfin says over tea. maitimo can see the wisdom in not provoking a civil war, can he not?

(he will not bring death to the blessed realm again. not even if his last baby brother is rotting away to a shell, not even if he’s being smothered to death from the inside out. he will not, he must not)

(if he did, there would truly be nothing left but the monster)

and then, one day, maglor gets the chance to escape

his minders aren’t paying much attention to him, he’s been a lot quieter since they put the gag on him. he’s small and fast and good at sneaking around, by the time they notice he’s missing he’s already found a way out of the palace

he jumps out of a third-floor window, bites down the pain, and runs. he clears the grounds and disappears into the city

he makes for - he doesn’t know where. subconsciously, he navigates towards the craft guild districts, where his family’s staunchest supporters always were

except the city’s changed a lot since he was last loose in it, and before he knows it, he’s completely lost. he wanders the streets half in a daze, his raw nerves unused to the bustle and noise of it all. wherever he goes, people stop and start and turn away

finally someone calls him over. ‘hey, you want that collar off your neck?’

it’s a smith of some sort, he can tell that much. they’re smiling, welcomingly and without pity. he’s rushing over to them, nodding his head, before he can even think about

the trouble is, maglor doesn’t remember the faces of most of the people he saw in beleriand, but they all remember him

the trouble is, this smith was at sirion

back in the palace, who gets access to the brothers is very strictly controlled. which isn’t to say that nobody tries to hurt them; finrod tends to put the worst spin on things when he’s asked for advice, there’s all kinds of minor acts of sabotage, and they come across innocuous-seeming harmful objects more often than mere chance would seem to allow

but even their caretakers can tell that letting desperate revenge-seekers get near the brothers wouldn’t be particularly conducive to whatever recovery they’re hoping for. anyone who might randomly come across maedhros or maglor in a hallway is intensely vetted for ulterior motives, and while this process isn’t airtight it does filter out the most obviously malicious

and outside of that bubble, none of that applies. the smith does take maglor’s gag off, purely to hear him scream

soon enough, the palace guard tracks him down. they take him back to the palace, where he’s bandaged up and comforted and then, as a special treat, allowed to see his brother

(they’re kept apart more often than not these days. being around maglor makes maedhros agitated, being around maedhros makes maglor sullen. they’re just more cooperative when they’re alone)

maglor does the same thing he’s done every time he’s seen his brother for the past year, which is immediately bury his face in maedhros’ chest and shudder. it takes him a moment to remember he can speak now

‘we’re trapped’ he whispers. ‘we’re trapped’

because he was screaming for what felt like hours, and nobody came to help. as he was being carried back to the palace, he saw the scorn and the disgust in the passers-by’s eyes

there’s nobody who will shelter them outside the palace. there’s nowhere on this continent they can go

and that - that’s the end, in a way. maedhros remains stubborn and ill-tempered, never quite letting them forget he doesn’t want to be here and doesn’t like what they’re doing, but the fight goes out of him. he does what they tell him just as biddably as he did before they took his brother’s voice

maglor, surprisingly, takes a turn for the better. he starts acting cheerful again, doing everything that’s asked of him with a smile and a wink. he’s making excellent progress, his minders tell finarfin

(they don’t tell him what maglor looks like when the mask starts to crack)

finarfin is very pleased to hear that one of his nephews is finally starting to recover! it’s been a long, painful journey, but it looks like it’s all at long last working out

to celebrate, he decides to give maglor a gift he’s been holding onto for a while

he calls maglor into his office. the tension in his posture is a bit worrying, but his expression is all makalaurë, a casual, mildly disrespectful grin. he swans into the room, flounces into a chair, and asks what his uncle wants

finarfin praises him for all the progress he’s been making, and hands him a letter

it’s from elros

the first line is ‘how are you doing, you old bastard?’ it calls him a kinslayer six different ways in the first three paragraphs. it asks him how many people he’s stabbed since he got back. it closes off by wishing him some fun loud arguments with maedhros

finarfin was a little concerned maglor still not might be in the right emotional state for it, but the tightness bleeds out of his nephew’s frame as he reads. a couple of times he even bursts into snickering that sounds more genuine than any sound he makes in court

he finishes reading with a truly relaxed smile on his face. then he freezes, and looks up at finarfin

in a tiny, quiet voice, so unlike the way he talks nowadays, he asks, ‘may i write a reply?’

finarfin hates to take the wind out of his sails, but maglor deserves to know. ‘that letter is centuries old. i’ve been holding onto it until you were ready to read it.’ he shuts his eyes. ‘i’m afraid elros passed some time ago’

maglor’s head drops. the letter in his hands begins to shake. little whimpers escape his trembling body. finarfin walks over, places a hand on his shoulder. ‘i’m sorry, we -’

that’s not whimpering, finarfin realises. those are growls. his nephew’s head snaps up, face twisted with rage

maglor tries to tear finarfin’s face off -

and that’s all i have. these headcanons have been exhausting to write, i’ll clean them up and put them on ao3 in a bit, but not now, if for no other reason than it’s 3am. again. i hope these weren’t too incoherent. going to try to unbanjax my sleep schedule now

[ivanabaqero]

Since I just returned from rehab, here is my.. idk, emotional journey on my chronic illness + mental health or wtf ever u wanna call this. This is the most personal thing I have ever posted but I need to get it out. 

Before you read, I guess I gotta tw this for suicidal thoughts and descriptions of my symptoms.

I don’t even know where to start. It feels like all of this happened in one week and at the same in a span of several years. But no idea, time just kept passing and more shit happened. 

Last summer was pretty cool. I worked hard and made a fuckton of money - not really considering the consequences of the fact that I overstepped the boundaries of my body every single day. Either way, I regret nothing it was pretty cool and another experience I am glad I could make. Well, but when I came back home, I started to notice a few things. Among some weird shit nobody wants to know about, I noticed a change of my eyesight. There was a cloud right on the vision on my left eye and it got blurry. At first, it started with minutes and then it passed. But I knew my body responded to exhaustion in an odd way so I let it slide. As doctors have instructed me, only when it lasts over 24 hours it’s an actual episode/flare and I should go to the ER -- to elaborate this further, I have been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2015 and have not had any bigger flares since, only the regular symptoms like fatigue, etc.

 I got treated with the regular medication; cortisone. This shit gave me some energy boost for a few days and then, things went back to somewhat normal. The blurry thing in my eye has changed into a weird ass thing called nystagmus. Basically, my eyeball was twitching. It was better than the blurry sight and my doctors told me that physical therapy was the only thing to help me with that, and up until some weeks ago this didn’t stop, at the moment it’s gotten way better though - a relief because that caused me mad headache and made reading really difficult.

Anyway, that was the smaller problem. A few months later, in December around Christmas, I have gotten really weak and have been constantly dizzy. As usual, I let it slide for some days. Up until that point when I couldn’t move from the bed or look at anything else but right up at the ceiling or I would get fucking dizzy. Back to the ER again, the same procedure began. Cortisone  resulted in a massive push of energy that lasted for some days, but after that, all the symptoms slowly returned. Not only that, but it started to get worse. I have been dragging and limping with my left foot since months but I still managed somehow to walk and get around. In January I had a major panic attack when I noticed that I couldn’t walk on my own to my doctors, which is merely an 8 minute walk away. I had to call my mom to bring me back home because I couldn’t go any step more. My doctor sent me to the ER but the next day, I decided that I was fine and being over dramatic and everything was perfectly fine. The whole thing kept getting worse, I could not walk anymore, I kept feeling dizzy all the time unless I was staring at only one spot: my laptop or phone. So that was what I did, ignore my symptoms. Adding to my chronic fatigue, dizziness, inability to walk and my eye problem, a sensitivity problem spread all over my body from the chest downwards. My hands hurt and my fingers cramped up and got stiff, I lost all feeling in my feet. I had an appointment at the neurologist thank god, or else, I would have let it gotten worse and kept telling myself that I am being over dramatic and nothing is actually wrong. Delusional? Maybe. I don’t understand myself there either.

The neurologist decided to keep me in hospital for a whole ass week, getting cortisone every day. I got in there with the ambulance in a wheelchair and left out of there walking again. Not perfectly, but I thought things were looking up. Of course, once the high dose of steroids begins to wear off and you slowly come down from it, you first catch sleep. Steroids this time have been given to me five days in high dose instead of three and in addition, I had to take pills that I had to reduce slowly over another two weeks. I did not sleep in those three weeks more than 3-4 hours per night and then I finally could. To make this more understandable; my brain was tired but my body was buzzing. I also had a tremor that has still not entirely left me as a wonderful side effect from the medication. 

That time stationary they finally put me back in a MRT and found 2 bigger new lesions. One of them in my cerebellum and the other in my spinal cord. Each of them causing me all those massive problems. Back at home I had physical therapy every day, but despite all of it, I had to rely on a wheelchair. I got my wheelchair in march and named him Otto because he is the best man ever. Next time in hospital, I was mentally and physically just fucking done and tried to just ignore how much my mental health was going downhill along with my body, the neurologist offered me stationary rehab at a very well known center where they treat several physical as well as mental illnesses. I said yes, and luckily got a place in July.

The initial plan was to stay there for four weeks, but the doctors suggested to extend to six. I did. And good that I did. I made slow progress. Very slow. To imagine, in twenty minutes at the first day I could barely walk 130m with four  breaks in between, with walking aid and what not - and my last day I made 640m in the same time with no breaks. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but fuck -- I made it out of a fucking wheelchair. I am walking again. Not perfectly or any good, but my legs are used for their purpose again; to get me through this world. For someone who loves hiking and going for little walks alone, this was such a big deal to just not be able to anymore. 

The day I had the panic attack was the day I realized that in 2015 I made a promise to myself that if I ever have to rely on other people, I would end it. But I felt selfish for not wanting to end it. I felt selfish  for wanting to live and being a burden to people. I know, none of this is my fault and I am the first to give good advice, but am I good at handling my own shit? Absolutely not. 

With all the physical therapy I did for six weeks every day, I also had a psychologist that helped me understand myself better and deal with the trauma this experience brought me. I have to find another psychologist at home as well, because I didn’t feel the one I have helped me at all. I had to make a lot of promises to myself, such as accepting and asking for help and that it’s no shame in doing so. I feared losing my independence and I still do. But fuck, this experience was an eye opener in so many ways. I made new friends in rehab as well, which was one of the coolest things. And I got hit on by two attractive men - can you believe? I was in a wheelchair, dressed like absolute shit and not making any kind of deal of how I look! But yeah, my interest wasn’t really there to get involved in anything. I’ve got a lot of love to give but I need to give it to myself rather than pour it out on someone else.

I learned so many lessons, about my body and about my mind. My brain is an idiot and I have so many fears I was never even able to see until now. I thought optimism could beat everything and well... while it helps me a lot to get through every day life, every now and then I just need a slap in the face to look at things in another light. Not everything is fine if you tell yourself it is, no, you are not over reacting and you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself when life is dealing you a bad card. It doesn’t matter that other people have it worse -- it doesn’t mean your own shit is any less valid. And with that, I am going to wash my face and stop crying. I am still in a shock of reality state because I am  back at home now and everything is different. And I got to admit, I feel a little lonely. But I don’t want to reach out to my old friends at the moment with whom I felt like the “sick friend”. I want more friends in similar positions as me so I don’t have to feel bad for... well, feeling bad, and I don’t want to hear any more optimism monologues from healthy people who have absolutely no idea what it is like to have chronic pain, fatigue and overall; an illness. Whether it be mental or physical.

If you really read all of this, thank you. There was no need to, but I appreciate it. I honestly just needed to let it out. Because I haven’t done so properly since all of that started. 

[maggiecheungs]

atots as a disability narrative

finally posting my mini essay about atots and disability one (1) hour before episode 4 airs. putting this under the cut because it’s long. cw for discussions of casual ableism, suicidal ideation, death, disability, mental health.

(note: throughout i refer to tian’s disability, which we obviously don’t know the details of; i mainly mean it as a catch-all term for the health difficulties he faces, unlike most abled people, which continue on even after his transplant)

after episode 1 i remarked on how i read tian’s story as a disability narrative, but i wanted to wait to get a bit more info before i expanded on that. after episode 3, i think i can take a bash at outlining the main things that struck me--but there’s so much more i could say about this topic, so feel free to ask for clarification. also i obviously haven’t watched episode 4 yet, so that might change things! and of course, tian is filthy rich so his experiences with the practicalities of disability are somewhat mitigated/different from most experiences of disability... but in an ableist society, there are obviously some basic similarities in the way disability is perceived and experienced. so far, here are some of the main themes that i’ve noticed in atots:

the space between wellness and unwellness

in our society, wellness is constructed as part of a binary. one is either well (perfectly fucntional, capable of working) or unwell (ill enough to be incapable of functioning in a ‘normal’ manner). the default state is, of course, wellness; people get ill sometimes, of course, but they return to that default. however, people with disabilities and long-term health conditions can’t do that--and in the society in which we live, there aren’t accomodations for this sort of existence. 

tian has spent the past few years living in the space between wellness and unwellness. it’s the space of hospital waiting rooms and people treating you like you’re fragile. it’s the space of always waiting for something to happen; waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the people around you to get tired of you. in tian’s case, waiting for death.

tian has spent the past years stuck in this liminal space: ostensibly well enough to live a fairly normal life, but not enough to do so properly. he--and everyone else around him--is just waiting, and it prevents him from forming any close emotional connections or long-term plans. even if he could forget about it for a while, others remind him through their behaviour and treatment of him. before his surgery, he isn’t allowed just exist on a day-to-day basis. his very existence is overshadowed by the threat of its end. 

being stifled by others

in episode one, we get a glimpse of the near-complete erosion of personal boundaries tian has undergone over the past few years. after his operation, his mother panics when he leaves the house; she and his father stifle his freedom. at the same time, their fixation on ‘keeping him safe and healthy’ prevents them from seeing what he actually needs on an emotional level, which can be just as dangerous.

tian doesn’t just have to deal with his own feelings; he has to deal with his mother’s anxieties about him. he has to act well to assuage her fears. (tbh, neither of them handled the situation in the best possible way but... there isn’t really ‘a best way’ for this sort of situation? it’s more just limiting collateral damage.) similarly, his father blames him (or appears to blame him) for the suffering his mother is going through. 

it turns into a thing where he feels as if he owes them wellness (or the appearance of it). he doesn’t feel like he can be vulnerable around them. he puts on a similarly blasé act with his friends, because he doesn’t want them to treat him the same way his parents do--like he’s made of glass. which leads to....

pushing himself beyond his limits

tian feels like he has something to prove. he wants to prove that he’s not a burden... which becomes the characterising theme of his stay in the village.

in going to stay at the village, tian’s managed to mostly escape the spectre of ‘unwellness’ that has haunted him for so long, as well as all the people who stifle him. now that he’s free, he wants to learn to stand on his own two feet; to prove it to himself and to everyone who doubted he could (his parents, phupha, etc.).

however, while this is great for him on one level, it’s not great on another. because in tian’s mind, his disability is equated with being a burden. (this is not unsurprising, given that we live in a hugely ableist society and given his own experiences with his parents.) now that he’s out of the stifling environment of his past, tian feels like asking for help or taking care of himself would be a concession of weakness/burdensome to those around him.

that means, when other people unthinkingly hold him to ableist standards which his body literally cannot accomodate, tian will push himself to the limit rather than admit that he ‘falls short’. this is something that could have grave--potentially fatal--consequences.

HOWEVER! this seems to be changing! he seems to be growing past his feeling that ‘disability = burden’. in episode 3, he voluntarily told kalae about his having to take medication, and actively equated taking care of oneself with maturity/strength (”kalae, i also take pills. grown-up men have no problem taking pills. do you want to be a child or a grown-up?”)

i’ll be interested to see how this progresses. hopefully when/if he discloses his condition to phupha, it will go some way towards helping him move past all the self-directed ableism he’s internalised. also it should stop phupha from inadvertently pushing him to exceed his limits. (i predict that one area of tension between them will be phupha’s worry about tian--if their relationship is to succeed, phupha needs to be aware and accomodating of tian’s needs without stifling him/treating him like he’s made of glass as his parents did)

survivor’s guilt

a lot of this might be unconscious, but... tian has, in his mind, done nothing with his life--unlike torfun. while tian was alive and being a burden on everyone around him, gambling his few remaining years away, torfun was being one of the best, kindest, most generous people in the world. inevitably, living in her house and interacting with her people, he compares himself to her at every turn. she could help the villagers where he cannot. she should be here, not him. her heart is wasted on him.

but this is changing! in the most recent episode (3) we can see him building bonds with the villagers on his own merits. in the first few episodes i was worried that tian’s journey would be represented as but a shadow of torfun’s, but he’s forging his own indivdiual journey. similarly, his relationship with phupha seems to be individual to him, rather than a copy of the relationhship with torfun (but i guess we’ll find out more in the next few episodes). 

suicidal ideation

as mentioned above, tian has spent his entire life waiting for death. now, that looming spectre has disappeared, but it’s still a part of his identity. for years, he’s shaped his sense of self around that fact: he is going to die, so it does not matter what he does or does not do (this post sums it up really well!) he’s reckless because why the fuck shouldn’t he be? even if he’s not necessarily actively suicidal, for a while he seems to be passively suicidal.

this is also starting to show signs of change--as he overcomes his survivor’s guilt, builds genuine connections with the people around him, and feels like he’s contributing to something bigger than himself.

which leads me to the overriding theme of the series: tian’s going to have to learn to love himself, disabilities and all. he’s starting to build himself back up in the village, but he can’t treat it only as an escape. at some point, he’s going to need to face all the things i’ve mentioned in this essay and work through them. hopefully phupha will be there to help him, but this isn’t a ‘love cures all ills’ situation. loving phupha won’t ‘fix’ him; tian needs to love himself.

but... honestly, i have faith. i was really cautious after watching the first episode, because i’ve seen so many shows handle disability badly. but atots has exceeded my expectations in every other way so far, and i am truly excited to see where it goes next <3

[manc-street-preachers]

TW: self-harm, eating disorders, mental illness

I think the attitude that a lot of people, primarily music journalists, or online content creators who run ‘true crime’ or ‘unsolved mystery’ blogs or podcasts, have towards the disappearance of Richey Edwards is largely indicative of the attitude that the media and society at large has of the mentally ill. In these podcasts, videos, posts, etc, Richey/Richard is rarely, if ever, treated as a human being, he’s treated as a fun case study. His self-harm is sensationalised as something “fascinating”, his eating disorder and numbers speculating how low his weight fell or how little he was eating are thrown around ghoulishly as some American voice reads out the details surrounding his disappearance, revelling in how “interesting” it is, drawing parallels to the oft-discussed ‘cult of Richey’.

“That’s so crazy, you guys.”

Even more troublingly, these videos are often monetised for profit. Profiting off the pain and suffering of the mentally ill, missing people, trauma victims, and victims of crime, is parasitic and cruel.

These videos and podcasts often provide very little insight, and simply regurgitate the information on Richard’s Wikipedia page. Why don’t these individuals put a little bit of effort into spreading awareness of the case, share the appeals online, and increase awareness of other missing people, and make more of an attempt highlight the failings of the UK mental health system and the police. 

Richard was horrendously failed by the UK mental health system, like so many before and after him. The band themselves have spoken of the horrors of the NHS psychiatric hospital Richard was admitted to, where he, reportedly, was simply drugged and offered the bare minimum of treatment. This was 27 years ago, and NHS mental health funding is still not a priority for the UK government. When adjusted for inflation, the total amount of income provided to NHS services in England in the year 2016-17 was £105 million less than in 2011-12, and services continue to struggle. Closer to Richard’s case, mental health services in Wales, while performing higher than most on a global level, have consistently been found to be lacking in comparison to other high-income countries, in regards to workforce, occupation of beds and community contacts. Knowing this, it’s hard to even comprehend how poor standards would have been in 1994.

Richard would later be admitted to the Priory Hospital Roehampton in South West London, known for treating the rich and famous, and put on a programme for alcohol addiction. This is the same hospital which received a poor inspection report in 2013, with medications being improperly and inappropriately prescribed, patients being made to fill out an excessive amount of paperwork, and staff not skilled or qualified enough to meet patient needs.

Failed, too, were his family and friends by the police, who take the attitude that “adults can choose to go missing”, and this is an attitude that has been faced by so many other families of missing people up and down the UK, who have faced indifference if not outright hostility by a police force who simply don’t care. Richard was not placed on the PNC (Police National Computer)’s missing persons database for over a year after his disappearance. Just last month (January 2021), Richard’s sister, Rachel, posted to Facebook detailing her experience with the Metropolitan Police contacting her regarding a request to have his DNA sample upgraded. This could potentially lead to further developments in the case, providing his friends and family with the closure they have been so desperate for for 26 years. The Metropolitan Police believe it is “no longer proportionate or necessary” to have his DNA sample upgraded. This shows a complete lack of empathy for the families of missing people, even in a case as high-profile case as Richard’s. If this is how they treat high profile cases, imagine how thousands of others cases are treated. In the UK, 176,000 people go missing each year, one every 90 seconds, and this is an underestimate. Just because adults can “choose to go missing”, doesn’t mean they don’t need help. Just because adults can “choose to go missing”, doesn’t mean their families aren’t deserving of answers. Who is to say someone is in their right mind, or thinking rationally?

People who are mentally ill aren’t fun case studies, they’re human beings, and my heart goes out to Richard’s family and friends as well as the loved ones of so many other missing people around the UK, and I think this is simply a product of a culture that treats those who suffer from mental illness, to paraphrase Richard himself, as “circus sideshow freaks”. Their lives aren’t entertaining stories, and missing people and those with mental illness deserve to be treated in a dignified manner and their stories heard in a context outside of sensationalised music press or tabloid headlines, that won’t sensationalise or monetise their pain and the pain and suffering of their loved ones. Richard was admired by so many for breaking some of the stigma around mental health, especially for working class men. Growing up in a mining town at the height of Thatcher’s Britain, among high unemployment, where people felt they no longer had a purpose, he was a spokesman for a subsection of society who had their futures torn from them, those who wanted there to be more to life than drinking and gambling, who took pride in being well-read, sensitive, caring, in an environment which tells you to be none of the above, and just “toughen up”. He highlights how mental health is so important, and that battling mental illness isn’t as simple as remembering it “could be worse”. Richard’s treatment by the media, and by fans, demanding he show them his scars, was dehumanising at best and actively malicious at worst, and possibly lead to a further decline in his mental health. This is all a logical progression of this attitude. Don’t turn him into a “creepy” story.

Richard, I hope you’ve found the happiness you so deserved. I hope you found your house on the coast with your dogs, whether the literal or the proverbial. Everyone is deserving of happiness, everyone deserves recovery, and everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. 

 - 1/2/2021

 References:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqjH2u0j914

https://www.tuc.org.uk/sites/default/files/Mentalhealthfundingreport2_0.pdf

https://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/health/mental-health-wales-depression-anxiety-16745533

https://www.yourlocalguardian.co.uk/news/10653940.the-priory-in-roehampton-receives-poor-inspection-report/

http://articles.richeyedwards.net/13feb00sundaymirror.html

https://www.facebook.com/richeyedwards67/posts/10159205968683734

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/sep/30/adults-missing-children-petra-pazsitka

https://www.missingpeople.org.uk/key-facts-about-missing#:~:text=Missing%20people%3A%20of%20the%20176%2C000,nearly%20220%2C000%20incidents%20are%20children.

[ahopkins1965]



First, I want to say that I hear voices.  I didn't start off by hearing any type of voices.  I started off by hearing God's voice when I was inside of my mother's womb.  This is the truth because God was talking to me for a while.  Until the years progressed, I started hearing the voices from other people.

Currently, I hear the voices of the people whom I hear from the ventilation shaft and in the hallways inside of the building.  Some of the people who live in the building are just like me.  They have a mental illness.  Some people take medicine for their problems.  There are those people who self medicate by drinking alcohol and smoke marijuana.



Third, I used to be a person who self medicate for a total of 18 years.  I started off by drinking beer and alcohol on a regular basis.  I have done this until I got sick and tired of being sick and tired.  My mother was very proud of me.  However I started buying sex from 1986-2010. I am a person who has come a very long way in life.  I went to treatment for a total of 90 days.  On Friday September 1, 1990.  I graduated from treatment.  I caught the Greyhound Bus to Toledo Ohio.  I continued to go to AA Meetings at the Riverside Hospital for a total of 5 years.  Right along with the treatment I graduated from the University of Toledo in Toledo Ohio. I graduated with my Associates and Bachelor Degrees in Interdisciplinary Studies and Social Work.

Finally, I moved to Dayton Ohio for one year.  On Sunday June 15, 1997.  I had to stay in a shelter for homeless men for a total of 8 months.  I was diagnosed with a mental illness down there.  I got an apartment for three years. Afterwards, I got involved in a relationship with a very nice person.  We were in a relationship for a total of 8 years.  I worked at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte for a total of 8 years.  I worked in the Library.  A lot of things happened.  I ended up moving back to Ohio.  I want to admit that I have made a lot of mistakes.  I am man enough to admit that I kept on having seizures.

In conclusion, I have been clean and sober for 33 years now.  My AA Sponsor moved out of state. 



Everyone is grown up now.  I am getting older now.  Some of the people who live here do not believe that you can here voices through the vents that are inside of the building.  I am just staying home today.