#being an expert in one is unrealistic enough let alone everything you think is cool...

[captorcorp]

girl help i'm romanticizing academia and doing research again

[paganchristian]

A picture I took out the window, a peaceful ride in the country, the rolling hills, the cows, the clouds, the blurry images streaming by like a tape, a childhood feeling, memories of gazing at the sun or the moon out the window and the ribbons of powerlines dancing, how beautiful they felt to me then, how full of happiness they seemed to be, dancing in such lovely curves, in rhythm with the music on the radio. 

 It reminds me of something simpler, more innocent, and more joyful, and more hidden, from the world, untouched, unseen, unfound, but wholly at home, loved and belonging, not alone, just almost yet unborn, living in a cocoon where the smaller and more simple the world, the better it is, and if the only other creatures who know me best are my other friends who are children.  And we all inhabit a secret world where innocence is everything and nothing but innocence exists. My sisters, though, weren’t that innocent and kind in all ways, to me.  And disturbing things had already taken root in me, in religious obsessive confusion, at that young age, and a feeling of numbness was starting to settle in, and a repression of my natural personality had already begun to work its way into my life.  It’s visible in home videos where my behavior began to change, and though no one says they knew why, I recall that a teacher was an influence upon me, to stifle my joy and exuberance, and as submissive as I had been taught at home too to be, I willingly shrank into a tiny shell.  But if I just vaguely let my memory rewind itself into the territory of faulty memories and feelings that tell more than facts, I can tap into a sense of pure innocence that I think is actually a mixture of reality, and fiction, and wishes and present tense life that has let me regain a feeling of childhood again, and paradise regained.  

I think that my relative is reachable, if only I reach them in such a delicate way, and I found and really saw and wanted to read again, this book I’d gotten, about mental health issues, certain mental health conditions they have.  It’s been sitting there but something just suddenly made me want to read it again, so eventually I may, though I’m having some difficulty with it, because I feel depressed by the subject matter.  I feel unsure that it will really help me.  Their particular manifestation of this condition is not typical and I don’t know if the book addresses this variation.  But maybe I can find other books or good websites that address that particular variation of the condition.  And really that condition might be a secret locked door that will let me reach them much better, if I can find the key to open things, because it is well known to have tremendous impacts on relationships of all kinds.  Whether it extends to our family relationship, they seem to have the idea that it doesn’t but after all I’ve read, and sensed and they have seemed to hint, I wonder if it does.  I wonder if I could help them much better with their problems if I understand all this, and yet, this condition is notoriously hard to treat so maybe it is more of a matter of accepting what is.  Sometimes it’s treatable but often it seems to be very resistant to treatment, unless the person with the condition t is very willing to cooperate.  

And I’m not a therapist of course and they’re not coming to me for psychological treatment, yet sometimes loved ones can help far more than therapy, as was the case for me, with my bipolar and anxiety, and yet my case was different, by far, than average.  And the loved ones and friends helped a while, but then I changed myself over decades of struggle and isolation and being totally alone and unable to voice my feelings to those who didn't’ care any longer (and therapy and drugs didn’t help either, but I was never treated for bipolar type 2/cyclothmia, only depression, so not sure about that aspect of the drugs).  Sometimes family and friends and loved ones can help, other times not.  Then the ones who helped me eventually turned their backs on me, but maybe it was too much, maybe it’s more of a burden than most can stand after a while.  

Even therapists are often depressed and they have one of the highest suicide rates of the occupations, I think I read.  It makes sense, if you think of the burdens they are feeling if they can’t help but feel overwhelmed by all they hear from others and then not being able to help them, as often people don’t respond well to treatment, and then therapist likely was attracted to that occupation because of relating and sympathizing with those suffering, which means they are more likely to be depressed or vulnerable to depression or mental illness, you would think, than the average population.  It’s not uncommon for therapist to have their own therapists too.  

But anyway, if I just have to accept my relative’s issues rather than help them, because their mental condition is often not responsive to treatments, well, ok.  And that makes me think, about the idea that maybe sometimes we can’t even stand to see our flaws, and it will destabilize us if we do, and not only that, but we need to be validated in our wrong ideas, so that we feel like we have a sense of purpose and worth, and it’s really strange to think of that.  Usually people don't think that way and yet I have lived that out myself and it really feels, looking back, that I did need that.  As long as it doesn’t do any kind of harm to anyone and it’s the best you can do, then maybe sometimes people are so trapped in their delusions in certain ways for the time being that they might need that. 

I think that I don’t have to worry so much about upsetting the fragile balance of my family member, if I just don’t go too in depth or say too many things that seem too challenging, too judgmental, or whatever, about their issues.  Not that I’d say it as criticism or advice or even suggestions directly aimed at them anyway, but just like I said, if I made a blog or wrote letters or made a website or whatever like that and shared it with them, this is my life, my interests, and instead of expecting you to be interested I will just give this to you to do as you so choose, to read it, or not, to respond or not.  It’s not directed at you, just a depiction of my life, my life story, my interests, my passions, the things I’d share if I felt I could share, but since I don’t want it to be a burden or an obligation, since I feel like maybe I’m too far out on a limb for anyone to relate to all that much, I will just share it in this distant, kind of detached way.  

If you really want to talk and enjoy responding to what I say, maybe we can find new things to talk about but if not we already talk a lot, every once in a blue moon, which is enough for me.  This is just throwing this out there, just in case we can be even closer than we are (We are now already close in this rarely talking but I trust and love you so much kind of way, even if we don’t need to talk much, maybe couldn’t find anything to talk about in common.  But we’re there if things fall apart, or if we just have to vent to someone.  That kind of “close-ish” family relationship type of thing).  

And I know that if I did that my views, my values will be confrontational and challenging to them, because they have expressed such extreme sensitivity and offense and misunderstandings over other people that I know they would see my views in the same way and they have told me they stew in rage and self-loathing and bitterness and feeling abandoned over the littlest of things.  I know it’s fragile and yet I feel like if I just keep things very low-key, simple and only  occasionally hint little bits of what might be considered “too positive”, or “too simple”, or “too spiritual” or too cool and aloof, too detached, or too whatever it is, too judgmental, that they might read and distort and misinterpret me to mean...  

Then I think I can write these things.  I just have to carefully weigh each word, even when I’m putting it in this detached, distant space that is not directed at them, but just my own thoughts.  My relative needs someone to help them somehow, and they are not willing to reach out or look for help in many places at all, so I’m one of the very very extreme few people (or maybe the only person) who is in a position to help them.  The only other person they are very open to is just as stuck in the same mental condition they also have and so I don’t have any real hopes for them to help.  

I don’t feel the best qualified to help myself.  I’m not always the most optimistic or the most encouraging or the most good at compliments and cheering people up and framing things in this really friendly, kind, gentle, uplifting way.  I try m y best but it seems that it just flies by me and I’m oblivious.  I see others responding in much more helpful ways but I don’t even understand how they do it or what they’re doing but I just see that it’s much more uplifting and encouraging and validating and enthusiastic and whatever.  More insightful, clear and well-articulated, more helpful, and so many different things I see many do much better than me, when it comes to cheering up people or helping people who are down and troubled.  

 My main strength, I think, is that I don’t judge and expect too much, and I’m actually not overly optimistic, not unrealistically, so, and not overly simplistic, because I’ve been there myself.  Yet because I’ve overcome things in this really weird and difficult way, sometimes what I say sounds too simple and easy, but it’s not.  It’s just so simple it’s hard to trust and be willing to try (and others may need other things but my case was not and is not minor and if it worked for me, it can work for some of the worst cases of depression, which mine was one of the worst my former psychiatrist, an expert in the region, said he’d seen, in his many years of treating people.  He expected I might be depressed all my life).  It’s not that I needed only simple things to help, because what helps me is elaborate and complex, many-layered, immense, and even still, fragile, and only healing but not curing me,...  But parts of what have helped me the most are very simple and sound dismissive to some people, but it’s not.  

Anyway, maybe I can learn how to be more helpful and encouraging in ways I see others doing so much better than me.   But it’s just one more thing for me to try to figure out, when life feels like too much.  And when I can’t just wait before I act to figure it all out, because they need my help and care right now.  Though sometimes things change much more quickly than you would ever expect, once you have the right information and take the right actions to grow, improve and change yourself.  So I am hopeful.  And I ask God for help, as ever.  Yet when I wrote all this about my relative on this blog, things seemed to change, and I noticed and felt like reading that book though before I’d had it on the shelf for months and it felt hopeless, worthless, but suddenly I saw it differently.  Something about blogging, what is it, it changes my feelings.  Maybe it’s some mysterious energy of people reading or maybe it’s something else, like my own consciousness reacting in new ways to the focused sort of social atmosphere and the endorphins of that or maybe it’s something else.  I wonder what it is.  

[evakuality]

Could you analyze the stuff with even renting a suite and being enamored with danish culture and everything and how everyone's acting and reacting in that scene? It's some of my favorite scenes but I particularly don't understand how isak probably felt about everything and you have the best perspective on everything skam! Also was even starting to enter his manic episode urt?

Thank you for the lovely words, anon; you made me smile!  But also … gosh, this is very specific, and I’m not sure I can do this justice but I’ll do my best.  I am not in any way an expert on Bipolar Disorder, so if I get any of this wrong please do let me know.  Again, this got long (how?  It’s such a short scene???)

I think the first thing to remember is that Isak is not particularly comfortable being ‘out’ in public yet.  We see that very clearly when Even goes to greet him with a kiss when they meet this day and Isak pulls back, awkward and embarrassed.  Also important to note is that this doesn’t phase Even at all.  He’s completely chill when Isak does this and carries on as if this is totally normal.  So, Isak is uncomfortable with PDA and Even is chill with respecting that.

By the way, yes I’m fairly sure that Even is definitely approaching mania at this point.  Some people theorize that he starts with that even by the beginning of episode 8 in the kitchen.  Everything is heightened and he ‘made everything’ which is very over the top, etc etc.  I’m not familiar enough with how Bipolar Disorder manifests, despite doing as much research as I could, that I’m not sure myself.  But that’s what some people in the know say, so I’ll assume it’s at least plausible.  As it is, from what I’ve read mania doesn’t turn on like a switch, so it’s very unlikely that Even isn’t already heightened and close when he books the suite and they go there.  So all his actions and comments need to be read through that lens.

Now, I read somewhere that Danish fans were so vocal and loud in their love and support of the show that the Danish receptionist was a nod to them, and Even’s effusive praise of all things Danish is part of that.  But it tells us a lot about him, too.  He’s gregarious, he loves people, he loves talking to people.  He is apparently trying to emulate a Danish accent at one point (to my ears it sounds no different, haha, which is one of the perils of not being Scandinavian, and I’ll accept this because others tell me it’s true), but it’s so good natured that I don’t think he’s making fun here. He genuinely wants to connect and have a nice chat with this nice lady.  Now, this is heightened by approaching mania but I do feel like this isn’t unrealistic for Even anyway.  He seems the type to chat freely and easily about things he thinks will amuse others or make a connection with them.

Isak, though, Isak is a little lost.  He’s besotted with Even, and completely charmed by the way Even is charming the woman.  He’s a little ‘how is this person mine?’ as he stares at him.  However, Isak is not one for small talk, he’s not one to chat freely about random things.  He’s likely thinking something like, ‘yeah sure, Denmark’s cool I guess, but can we just get out of here and be alone?’ But, the interesting thing here is that he’s so charmed by Even that he’s actually fine with being introduced as his boyfriend and described as beautiful.  There’s a sense of ‘he thinks I’m beautiful, let me swoon a bit’ and I’m fairly sure that had Even kissed him here, he would have gone with it (but it’s nice that Even doesn’t; he’s in tune enough with Isak’s wishes that he respects his desire not to do that publicly).  Even has this effect on him and he’s so enamoured (I’m not sure he’s actually in love yet, but he’s getting there) that he’s actually really pleased when he’s praised to the woman.  She is a bit like, ‘sure, okay, this is nice, but can I just do my job?’ whereas Isak is ‘this guy is so charming and amazing, I’m so lucky’ so she acts as a contrast here too.  It’s all very subtle.  The receptionist is being polite, Isak is so enamoured that he’s charmed by it all and Even is subtly not quite himself.  He’s a bigger, louder, freer version of himself and it’s a nice nod to what’s coming and lets us know that a manic Even is still a genuinely nice person in a way that doesn’t yet tell us that this is what’s happening.  Unless we’re looking for it.

[rainsonata]

A Day Off

Fandom/Pairing: Elsword; hints of VCBH Rating: K Word Count: 1,626

Summary: With no missions and chores to be done, Elesis was bored when she caught Raven walking back to the inn. Birthday fic for @blazingsnark.   

Edit: Oops, deleted original post and reposted to add a Read More bar.  Sorry for taking up space!

Shouts and murmurs overlapped one another, swords clattered against the blacksmith’s hammer, and wind chimes clang with the sea breeze carried over from the ports.  Foreign spices overwhelmed one’s sense, a mixture of everything that made it hard to pinpoint its components.  Even the air felt different, sharp and salty to the taste if one was to close their eyes and breath in.

It was hard to believe this was the merchant’s area.  Everything about the city was pristine, sculpted out of white marble with gold and blue stones decorating the exteriors. There were cracks on the floor and several of the buildings, but not many.  They contrasted against the ruined buildings in Hamel’s outskirts, where the demons’ influences had spread.  

Bouncing in her heels, Elesis stopped when she caught a familiar face among the crowds of merchants, civilians, and soldiers.  She pushed through the packed streets and waved with both of her arms, happy to see him.  

“Heya, Raven!”  

The Veteran Commander did a double take when she approached him, but gave a steady smile, “Hello, didn’t expect to see you.”

Why?  Because most of the group was out, there was no need to upgrade weapons, shop for equipment, or any of that because they were already completed on their last free day?  The redhead crossed her arms and twitched.  

“Shopping for dinner?” She noticed Raven holding grocery bags that could feed two or three households for a week, although with how big the Elparty had grown, it wasn’t an exaggeration. It was already hard to balance the party’s money without including living expenses like eating and resting at inns.  Would it be ungrateful to ask Aisha to conjure food out of thin air?      

“Yeah,” Raven chuckled, “Elsword ate the last bit of leftovers for lunch.”  

“Let me help!” The Blazing Heart didn’t wait for an answer and stole three bags to carry with both hands.  

There was a bounce in her footsteps when she almost skipped back to the inn they were staying at.  Elesis counted her lucky stars that their destination was close to the marketplace, a few minutes’ walk at most, but the extra weight made it feel longer when they stopped to take a breather.  

“Are you done with training already?” Raven asked.  

She shrugged, “There’s only so much training you can do in a day.”

He nodded in understanding, “It’s hard to stand still when it’s quiet, isn’t it?”    

“They’re missing out on the fun we’re having,” Elesis joked.  Her voice was steady, but was it convincing enough?  The look Raven was giving her gave her the feeling that it wasn’t.  

Although none of them said it out loud, the red sparks threatening to erupt from her fingertips seemed to express the sentiment the most.  Hamel was partially submerged because of the demon invasion, leaving their recent missions to involve investigating the depths of the sea.  Being fire users, that meant she, her brother, and Raven were for lack of better word, useless.  Even before she joined her brother and his friends, she was rarely alone because she had her men to think of and worked with them through many of the missions assigned to them.  It was unrealistic to think she would never stumble on obstacles that would block her ability to fight, but watching the party leave without them felt wrong.

“You think those four know how to swim?”  Elesis mused at the funny image: a mage, elf, nasod, and child wading underwater in search for clues to the El’s whereabouts.  Could nasods swim?  When she asked the nasod queen, she was provided with a long explanation she couldn’t make head of.  She was going to assume it was a yes if Eve had no qualms about going near water.  

“Chung and Rena should,” Raven said.  “I don’t know about the other two.  Do you?”  

“Of course!”  No child from Ruben grew up without learning to swim at Lake Noahs.  Among house wives’ whispers were rumors that the water had special property that could heal the tired and the sick.  “Do you?”

“Yes, but it would be unwise for me to.”

It took Elesis a moment to understand the statement until Raven waved his nasod arm for her attention.  Oooh, right, nasod arm.  Waterproof or not, the additional weight would slow them down.  

When they returned to the inn, the front lobby was packed with travelers and soldiers lined up at the front desk.  Squeezing past the crowd and making their way back to their rooms, it took them several tries to get the key to work so they could open the door.  Once they stored most of the food, Elesis followed Raven to the chicken to see the Veteran Commander wearing a pink apron.  

Was it already time?  Elesis glanced at the stove clock to see it was half past four, then turned her head to see the sun high up and gleaming down through the windows.  The sun here felt different too, less intense and cooler than Velder.

“They’re not back.”  The redhead rested her eyes on the empty main room connected to the kitchen.  It was a suite styled rooming with a hallway leading to multiple rooms for different people, perfect to house full parties such as themselves.    

“The enemy must be hiding the duke well,” Raven opened a bag of flour to pour into a bowl with a plastic cup.  He dug through the pantry for the paprika, salt, and pepper to toss with the flour to make the seasoning.  

“Some mission,” Elesis scratched the back of her head.  “All this to save someone who can’t keep his head above the water.”  She grabbed a knife from the drawer to open a bag of vegetables on the counter.  A number of questions spurred in her mind as she began chopping them on the cutting board beside raven.  Unable to control the panic from the demon invasion, going missing, being rumored to be kidnapped by mermen of all things… was Duke Rod Ross worthy of his title?

A smile tugged at the corner of Raven’s mouth at the play on words, “It’s hard to sympathize when his secretary said this wasn’t the first time.  Nobles in Hamel aren’t too different from the ones in Velder, it seems.”  

“It seems so,” Elesis laughed.

Despite the struggles she had when she was stationed in Velder, nostalgia overwhelmed her when she was thought of the people she met and the places she traveled to with her men.  Hearing Raven’s occasional comments about the army made her happy to see she wasn’t alone.  

“It’s hard talking to them sometimes,” she admitted.  “It’s like they’re talking another language!”

“They do say things differently than the common folk for certain things,” Raven agreed.  “Didn’t you live in Velder for a time?”

“I did, but it was mostly teaching my men how to fight more than talking to the nobles.”  

“We’ll have to cooperate with them more in Hamel,” he said.  “Are you okay with that?”  While he appreciated Elesis’ enthusiasm, he knew Hamel was different from the experience Elesis must have had with Velder holding less emphasis on nobility but was more military based.  

“Me? Nah, I’ll be fine!”  The Blazing Heart shrugged it off, but paused when she thought she heard someone walking down the hallway.  That must be Elsword, she noted.  

Raven must have heard the footsteps too and said, “Well, Elsword seems to represent us and I worry if we encounter someone who won’t be as forgiving if he accidentally steps out of line…”

Her expression wavered.  Elsword did use a Ruben slang a merchant mistakened as an insult when the Rune Slayer tried to make a bargain the other day.  Perhaps she needed to talk to him. She pondered on what to tell her younger brother.  

“You seem fluent in doing this sort of thing,” Elesis made her decision.  “Teach me how to talk to nobles then!”

“H-hey, I’m no expert!”  He made a choking noise she assumed as surprise…of happiness?  Raven coughed, “I wasn’t born with a silver spoon-”

“And that’s why you’ll be a great teacher!”  She beamed, “You tell me the common folk equivalence with the fancy talk and I’ll teach Elsword afterward!”

“Fancy talk?”  The older man blurted out a loud laugh before controlling himself and stifle a smile.  Raven finished mixing the eggs with water in a separate bowl and a bit of salt and pepper.      

She finished cutting the last slices of onion and bell pepper, stringing them together on a kabob and was pleased with herself.  It looked like Raven was almost done too with washing the chicken and covering them with the seasoning he made earlier.  All was left was to cook them on a frying pan and wait for them to cool.    

Elesis grinned, “I’ll pick it up, no problem!”    

Raven returned one and chuckled, “I’ll see what I can do then.  Tomorrow?”

She beamed, “Tomorrow, after breakfast.”  Elesis watched Raven heat up the stove in preparation to fry the chicken and had a gleam in her eyes when she offered to add extra paprika to the first piece.    

“Be careful,” he said.

“Hey,” she said with a wink.  “Just a little.”

Raven stared, “You poured at least two spoons.”

Elesis waved it off, “This isn’t for me.”

Color drained from Raven’s face before he realized when she meant when he caught her with a devious expression.  

“This is for Elsword eating the last sandwich,” the redhead cackled while Raven groaned.  It looked like Raven did have a soft heart after all as Rena claimed.  She couldn’t wait to tell the elf the good news tonight when the rest of them came home.  

Author Notes: Thanks being a good friend and going over my writing over the years!   I’m glad I found your fics long ago and got to talk to you u v u/.   Don’t let the hot summer melt you!