#caretaker advice

[anxiety-banana]

In honor of September being suicide prevention month, here are some ways to help your depressed/suicidal friends:

-"I'm glad you exist" texts go a long way, but "I love that you do (insert specific action)" and "my favorite thing about you is ()" texts go further. Be specific. It's hard to see yourself in any good detail when you're suicidal

-Text them. Incessantly, if you have to. Small "I miss your face" and "this reminded me of you" texts. I've known people who have said "if nobody talks to me/contacts me/takes interest in me today, that'll be the sign to kill myself" and a text genuinely saves lives.

-Help them discover and rediscover hobbies. When you're depressed, the first thing to go is your motivation, and finding things that bring you any amount of satisfaction is important. Offer to volunteer at an animal shelter with them, or put together a little scrap book, or go somewhere scenic to take pictures.

-A lot of suicidal people are known to self harm. If you notice these tendencies (scratching, picking at skin, rubbing or putting pressure on body parts, etc.) you can be subtle about helping them. Hold their hand so they don't scratch, or offer a hair tie to snap against their wrist, or ask to draw on them. All these things are super helpful without being obvious or embarrassing.

-If they're known to be suicidal, you don't have to talk about it unless it's obviously concerning. A lot of people who attempted don't want to relive it, even if they're in a better place than they were.

-Join in on simple self care needs: go out to eat with them, or grab food to eat elsewhere if they're anxious to eat around people, go swimming if showering is hard, have a little sleepover like you were both kids and do all the basic activities (brushing teeth, changing into pajamas, eating dinner etc.) together. This is best if you're really close to the person, but there are also ways to do this if you aren't super close.

If you have anymore, please add them! These are just the ones I've gathered both as the depressed person and the caretaker, but I know there are plenty more.

[katapotato55]

How to write good horror.

1- DON'T EXPLAIN WHAT THE HORROR IS. DON'T EXPLAIN ANYTHING. no context = more scary. "oh but it is just a ghost- " YES. you know that, I know that, but things are way more scary if you don't explain it. let your audience scare themselves trying to figure it out! the first FNAF game didn't explain anything it was just "ok these machines are kind aggro". that is part of what made it popular! (And truthfully this reason is why i dislike the other games in the series) i can't name how many horror movies i immediately lost interest in because it was explained. "oh no! there is blood dripping from the walls! " its demons or ghosts or whatever. you explained it. it isn't scary now that you explained the joke. if you have to explain what it is, explain it at the END of the story or near the climax at best. (or better yet, don't explain at all) 2- restraint is key i know it is tempting to show organs and blood dripping from the walls and someone eating out a corpse or whatever but don't outright show that kind of stuff ALL THE TIME or else your audience becomes desensitized to it, and if horror fans are reading/watching your work, chances are they are going to think this is weaksauce. you need to be SUBTLE when building up suspense in your story. don't show the real scary bits until the end of the buildup/ 3- normalicy and familiarity is key i am going to use bugsnax as an example. bugsnax has no gore and can be considered child friendly, but what made bugsnax scare people is that it has the facaude of a cutesy little game. doki doki lit club has a simmular principle where its like a normal dating sim but you are caught off guard and things feel off. this is a valuable tool. 4- be original and understand why the more popular ones are popular in the first place everyone has done analogue horror. why ? because we are all so used to modern technology that older televisions and tech seem kinda creepy. Blue_channel by gooseworks is one of my favorites. It gets right to the point, and while it DOES explain what the product is, it doesn't go "oooh death and scary!!! oooooooh!" it lets the audience make up their own horrifying reason as to what is happening here. saying "oooooooh look murder your parents ooooh!" isn't scary, and putting a glitchy tv filter over it isn't going to make it more scary. and finally 5- describe the unfamiliar i know i just said familiarity is key but that is only 1/2 of the equation. Everywhere at the end of time depicts the sounds of memory degrading in an alzheimers patients. this is an experience that no one could relate to except for those who are experiencing it (and sadly, those people are either dead or mentally comatose) this is also why lovecraft horror is loved, because we can only imagine so much before the lack of understanding drives you insane. hope this helps, for the love of all that is good, please stop writing bad horror.



[pendarling]

Some Evil Things Whumper Could Be Doing + Descriptive Whump Language

Warning: I do NOT condone any acts of violence and such. These are all just for writing (Tumblr please don’t come after me😢🥺)

TW: Everything

Harsh cold breathing as Whumpee stands outside in the cold winter. The ice biting their bare feet deep in the snow as chilly winds blow their soaking body

Sneezing, sniffling, barfing and passing out after returning inside

Cutting hair and leaving uneven edges or pulling and tugging hair off. Whumper could also enforce some emotional damage by forcing Whumpee to cut off their own hair in front of a mirror.

"Fucking do it already!" "Please don't hurt me, I'll do it." "Cut it before I do!" "Okay, I will...-- I'm sorry-- I will..."

Keeping Whumpee awake all night by not interacting with them during the day but torturing them throughout the night. Whumpers who do this for about a week will have a Whumpee who refuses to sleep at night due to the fear of suddenly being jolted awake with new pain

Not letting Whumpee speak. Stuffing a cloth down Whumpee's mouth and reducing their language to just begging. That way once they appear in front of Caretaker they will be too afraid to speak or will have forgotten.

Purposely leaving wounds unattended after cutting up Whumpee's legs, thighs, hips, and hands and waiting for blood to dry, then cutting it again so it never heals.

Tightening ropes or chains around their wrists, ankles and torso enough to make it burn or dig into their skin, especially if the rope is made up of rougher materials

Feeding Whumpee nothing for days and then overwhelming them with so much food that they physically can't hold it down anymore

That dizzying feeling that leaves them sweating and anxious when Whumpee has not eaten or drank anything for so long that their mind is mentally congested

"Remember, your life, body, and thoughts are controlled by me, owned by me, and mine only. You don't have a world outside of this."

Reminding Whumpee every day that the search for them is slowly coming to a close and spreading lies that their friends and family have come to understand that Whumpee is dead

When Whumpee is so broken that they finally mindlessly agree to whatever Whumper instructs them to do

Whumpees that get slight Stockholm syndrome for their Whumper and fall into an obedient pattern with undeserved sympathy

Taking Whumpee outside after who knows how long behind closed doors. Then Whumper points out how literally not a single person knows who they are or are willing to report them

"Say it." "I'm a waste of space. Nobody wants me." "Was that so hard?"

Rewarding Whumpee after every time they've completed a chore or task with little torture or no torture at all. Alternatively, they can let Whumpee pick what they'll be dealing with for the day as a reward so at least they know they chose that option.

Hissing and crying when a hot piece of metal is slightly touching their skin. Or if you want to be extra evil: go ahead and rapidly run it up and down the forearm

When Whumpee eventually forgets their own name and history. They stopped crying a few weeks ago, they ask for permission to speak or go to the bathroom, eat, sleep, move etc...

"What do you say?" "Thank you, sir/ma'am." "You're learning well!"

Making Whumpee sit in their own dirt and blood as the pain of their wounds festering with sores, rashes and cavities builds up

When Whumper is taking Whumpee outside and before doing so, they hide their scars and bruises with makeup and clothing then practice their excuses if someone does suspect

~~~

MASTERLIST

[pygmi-cygni]

writing tip - children

kiddos, ninas, ninos, kinder, whatever you like to call em, they're everywhere. especially in writing! children can be a fun, innocent way to lighten up your story or add opportunities for immeasurable angst.

But i have noticed a propensity for miswriting them. I briefly touched on this in my character continuity post, but I'll go in depth about it rn.

Kids are fascinating. Their little brains work just as hard as adults, but the way they think is way different. I think there's an equal balance of overestimating and underestimating child capabilities in stories, so I'll explain examples of both.

When writing dialogue for children, it's important to note the way that certain milestones are met.

Kids under the age of five are not going to be conjugating verbs, using tense or proper structure. They have just passed the telegraphic/multiword stage of speech, which basically means being able to string words into a sentence. The vocabulary is low, but the comprehension is high. They'll be able to describe things but with a lot of abstract thought and physical description.

Example: John (5 y.o) watches a blue tow truck carry a red car down the road. He runs to tell his father.

Overestimating: "Papa, look! There's a blue tow truck with a car!" (too specific)

Underestimating: "Papa, lookit! A blue thing had another red thing on top of it an' it was goin real fast!" (John knows what cars are at this age; he has passed the 'thingy' stage of description)

Accurate: "Papa, look! A blue truck with a hook on it was with a red car on the road and the red car was on top going fast!"

John is at the age where he can identify nouns and actions, but he can't really put them in the correct order. He might not know exactly what a tow truck is, but he can see the blue truck has a hook, so he says that instead.

Kids at this age are good at descriptions and big picture concepts. If you want to use a kid as a witness in a mystery, this age would be helpful for describing the perp's looks, but nothing specific about what happenened.

Also, kids are remarkably efficient. After the age of two, toddlers/young children can feed themselves and keep themselves entertained. Obviously an adult/caregiver would need to organize and resource the food and toys, but the kids no longer need another person for every movement.

First words.

Not gonna be anything with plosives or hard palate sounds. no -ing, no consonant blends (spider, brick) no k or ck.

Soft vowels, bilabials (m, p, s, l) are all that's really gonna be a thing. (mama, papa, wa-wa, moo, baby, that kinda stuff.) it's used a lot because it's correct.

Toddlers are not busting out complicated words like stegosaurus, ok.

Obviously there are exceptions but by and large, it's pretty simple. Use this as a reference or not, but just some tips for keeping it realistic.

xox bye

[doveywovy]

10. “blow to the head” pretty please

slurred words/passing out from the pain/"i can't think straight"

-----

Tobirama was always on a path to disaster.

Izuna had argued that for years. They were deeply competitive, but where Izuna pushed himself to the extreme in their sport, Tobirama pushed himself to invention. and that had worked out for him for years, his innovative new moves and his tricky little spins. Izuna could do the most consecutive flips in a row for anyone on the ice in their bracket- but nobody else was doing half of what Tobirama brought to the table.

It was always going to turn out this way, as far as Izuna was concerned- new was also risky. Izuna had expected Tobirama's blood to stain the ice eventually.

Instead, their shared time on the ice at their home rink is marred by a wobbling Tobirama. His stance is unsteady, his eyes unfocused. There's a dent in the ice from where his head cracked against it.

Izuna skates over mostly to gloat, but Tobirama reaches out and misses, twice, before taking Izuna's outstretched arm.

This is...bad. Tobirama's behavior, the fact neither of them are supposed to be here so there's no medical assistance on the way- just the two of them, alone on the ice.

Tobirama clings tighter as Izuna pulls him forward. Izuna rests his free hand on top of Tobirama's grip to his bicep, and Tobirama doesn't try to shake it off. Instead of pulling Tobirama off the ice, he takes him to the center of it. It's smoother there, slippery still, and Tobirama's legs are wobbling indecently. His back is somewhat bent try to stay upright, his knees certainly are, and for once he's not towering over Izuna because of it. They're practically at eye level.

"Feelssick." Tobirama says. he's green around the edges. He turns his head and vomits on the ice, and then nearly falls over from the force of it. Izuna stablizes him, and Tobirama stares up. He can't quiet reach Izuna's eyeline. "'zu." Tobirama says. "'Zuuna. ZunaCanya....the ice. offah ice..."

He will.

In a minute.

His rival, always snipping at him, always bitter, always lording over him, can't even form a full sentence. That's-

Tobirama is maybe dying. He's almost certainly never going to skate again. Madara used to rant about how dangerous the sport was all the time, all the ways it could go wrong. Izuna forces Tobirama's hands off him at the wrist and glides back. Not far, just enough-

Tobirama tips backwards. his legs flail, his arms swing, his whole face is green instead of just the edges. There's vomit at the corner of his mouth. his arms are outstretched.

Towards Izuna. Because he needs him. Because he can't do this alone.

Izuna slides back into range, takes him by the hands. "Let's get you to a doctor, Senju."

[bitchesgetriches]

Hi Bitches!

I have a question for writing resumés/cover letters-what do you do when you don't have anything to put down? I always see the advice for recent college grads to add on experience/skills you gained from volunteering, internships, and clubs, but what are you supposed to do when you didn't have that experience? Due to a combination of family circumstances + finances, I ended up working 3/4 time in college at a job I couldn't afford to quit while being an in-home caregiver for a family member and thus didn't have the time or money for things that are considered key parts of the "college experience". I feel like it's left me completely behind everyone else competing for the same jobs, where I have nothing to show off on my resumé that screams "hire me!"-what can I do instead?

So you're saying that instead of filling leisure time with clubs and enrichment activities you spent it working your ass off to afford basic necessities and providing in-home care for a person in need? You're saying you were forced to grow up faster than your peers and work TWO JOBS (yes, in-home caregiver is absolutely work) on top of studying and attending classes? You're saying you have more maturity and responsibility than most people your age and actual hands-on experience balancing the pressures of essential work on top of higher education?

My darling chickadee... you have a fuckton to put on your resume. Everything you just told me screams "hire me!"

You just need to frame it properly. Put that shitty job you couldn't afford to quit on the resume. Put "in-home caregiver" on your resume and include many bulletpoints about how gd hard that role is. If I were a hiring manager I'd be far more impressed with your experience than with someone who had never worked a part-time job nor experienced the pressure and responsibility of taking care of a whole other human.

Here's more advice:

How to Frame Volunteering on Your Resume When You’ve Never Had a Job

Ask the Bitches: “I Took a Career Break to Care For Someone. How Do I Explain My Caregiving Resume Gap?” 

Did we just help you out? Join our Patreon!

[plural-affirmations]

how do we… idk, manage the system? Yesterday we ended up with *seventeen* people in front and now we’re all blurry. Our friend mentioned “don’t you know what system management is” but didn’t. Elaborate beyond that. We have one guy who’s hypothetically a gatekeeper and manages The Basement (trauma is down there) but he doesn’t really do much else… - 💫

WOW. 17 people at once is... a lot. That must've been (and probably continues to be) very overwhelming for you guys. Are you doing ok after all that?

System management/managers typically refers to a headmate (or headmates) that handles things such as:

facilitating switches

controlling memory access

keeping track of who's fronted/split/fused/gone dormant

delegating tasks to the corresponding headmates

etc.

They're frequently gatekeepers, caretakers, internal self helpers, and similar roles in addition to being managers, but those terms tend to overlap depending on the circumstances.

Like anything else, it comes down to personal identity and preference. Also, some systems have these members, while others are perfectly functional without them.

They're pretty common in large systems, but we personally have had our manager, Vivian, from the time we were very little (bodily around age 4 to 6). She takes care of a lot of stuff behind the scenes for us. I think she may have written a post or two on this blog, and she's helping me write this one as well.

Hope this cleared up some stuff! You're perfectly welcome to follow up whenever you feel like it. :)

🖤💜💙💚💛

[twink-ricksanchez]

Anyone else find it really sweet how in "Bethic Twinstinct" Rick spends basically the whole holiday weekend spending time with the kids instead of getting involved with the other adults' antics.

I love how in this scene he notices the kids are acting off so instead of further arguing for a game controller he goes out of his way to make a third one, so he could continue to spend time with them. I just really appreciate every small detail that goes into this episode.

[bunnyscar]

Mistakes

trigger warning: fear, a little creepy

“You’re going on a date?!” Leslie squealed.

Tia winced. “I-It’s not a date! Rasp said he had an extra ticket for a movie at the theater, so he asked if I wanted to go with him. That’s all. Besides, Ms. Frazzle is going with us,” Tia protested.

Her sister raised an eyebrow, obviously not convinced. “Say what you will, but this is still a momentous occasion! We’d better get you all ready for it. Come on, I’ll do your hair for you. Ooh, why don’t you wear that cute skirt you have, too!”

“There’s no reason for me to get all dressed up,” Tia protested.

Leslie clicked her tongue. “Tsk tsk! Of course there’s a reason! This is your first time going out with a boy. Trust me, I’ll make you look perfect!”

Tia sighed and gave in, knowing that her sister was unstoppable once she made up her mind to do something. Tia was the complete opposite. She hated conflict and almost always submitted to other's decisions, even if she didn't actually agree. Sometimes she wished she could be like Leslie and stand up for her own wants or needs, but she always got scared and let others have their way. It was easier and safer to give up.

Besides, other people were usually smarter than her. It was better to trust another person to make decisions than to rely on her own judgement or intuition. Or so Tia thought to herself that evening, committing her first mistake.

It was a couple of hours later that Tia made her way downstairs, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. Leslie had put her hair up in ponytails and braided them, just like their mother used to do when the girls were little. Making her feel even more like a young girl, Tia had been outfitted with a pink skirt and a blouse with puffy sleeves, making her feel like she was dressing up as a princess. She sighed, pausing to sit on the stairs for a moment, her forehead pressed against her knees.

Though she appreciated Leslie’s desire to help, she felt her sister was jumping to conclusions. This wasn’t really a date. Ms. Frazzle would be chaperoning them, and they weren’t even going to see a romantic movie; the movie was about some superhero that Rasp was interested in.

And whatever Leslie imagined, there was no romance between Tia and Rasp. She was pretty convinced he didn’t understand romance, and he treated her more like a good friend than a romantic interest. They were too young for it to be real anyway, right? Tia felt her cheeks begin to burn again as she thought about it.

The doorbell rang, making her start and almost fall down the stairs. Quickly, she made her way down and opened the front door.

Rasp came bouncing in, followed by a sour-faced Ms. Frazzle. “Hi Tia! Are ya ready?” he cried eagerly.

“Y-yeah,” she said shyly, twisting her hands together. She suddenly felt very self-conscious of her clothes and hair. Rasp, however, either ignored or did not notice her discomfort and bounced outside the house again. “Let’s go! Superman, here we come!”

Ms. Frazzle sighed. “Spider-Man, you mean,” she said reprovingly.

Tia followed them outside, pausing just before she shut the door, an uneasy feeling in her stomach calling her to stay inside. But she buried it away, convincing herself she was just nervous about doing something for the first time. She’d never gone with friends to the movie theater before, only with her sister, and even that had only been once or twice.

She hurried into Ms. Frazzle’s car without another look back, her second mistake that night.

The theater was old. Its sign was falling off, cracks could be seen running all over the walls, and barely any light shone through the entrance’s glass doors. Ominous creaks came from the roof, which looked about ready to cave in. To make matters worse, there was not a soul in sight, not another car in the parking lot, not even any lights on in the surrounding buildings, which consisted mostly of condemned apartments.

“A-are you sure this the right place?” Tia asked anxiously, shivering and drawing closer to Rasp, who was looking curiously at the theater without a hint of fear.

“Yes, yes, this is it,” Ms. Frazzle said briskly, ushering the children towards the building’s dilapidated doors. Her sour mood seemed to have lightened now that they were in front of this mess of a theater, though why she would be happy about such an ominous place, Tia had no idea. A great sense of foreboding came upon her, and she wanted to turn and run away from that awful building.

But Rasp was already inside, and Tia feared being alone in a dark parking lot more than going into a scary building with her friend. Surely it would be all right. Surely their teacher wouldn’t bring them somewhere that was actually dangerous. So Tia followed Rasp and her teacher into the building, making her third mistake that night.

Inside did not look more inviting. Dim, flickering lamps illuminated halls of red carpet and dark doors that led to the individual theaters. One hallway was blocked off with caution tape, behind which appeared to be piles of rubble and broken chairs. Directly in front of Ms. Frazzle stood a computerized check-in counter, its bright screen looking very out of place in this dingy building. There did not appear to be anyone else here, and Tia soon regretted having stepped inside, no matter how dark and lonely it was outside.

“Where are the workers?” she asked nervously.

“Maybe everyone’s on vacation? Or maybe they’re trying to set a mood?” Rasp suggested, but even he was beginning to look more thoughtful and less excited about watching a movie in an abandoned theater.

Ms. Frazzle didn’t answer either of them. She stepped over to the kiosk and punched some buttons, retrieving three tickets.

“Our theater is number 8,” she said, handing each child a ticket. “Come, let’s go.” And she began striding off down the hall.

Tia stood rooted to the spot, though. She must have been crazy to enter this building. Something was wrong about this place, and she didn’t want to go any further. No matter what Ms. Frazzle thought.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t think…maybe we shouldn’t…,” she stammered, glancing anxiously at the exit.

Ms. Frazzle turned back suddenly and grabbed Tia’s wrist, pulling her down the hall. “Come or we’ll miss it,” she said eagerly.

Tia had thought Ms. Frazzle wasn’t interested in the movie, so it had seemed strange when she had become more excited the closer they got to this creepy building. Now Tia was convinced something was wrong with Ms. Frazzle too. The teacher had a strange glint in her eyes and wore an almost maniacal grin on her face, made more creepy because of the strange shadows cast by the dim lighting.

Weakly Tia tried to resist Ms. Frazzle, but the teacher’s grip was strong as metal and so tight that her wrist began to hurt. Beginning to panic, Tia let out a yelp.

Rasp suddenly stepped in front of them. He grabbed Tia’s other wrist, and though his grip was firm, it was not painful. Carefully, he extricated Tia’s wrist from Ms. Frazzle’s hand and moved himself so that he stood in between Tia and the teacher.

“All right, all right, we’re coming,” he said. Though his words remained nonchalant, there was a slight edge to his voice and something dangerous in the look he gave Ms. Frazzle. She frowned, but merely shrugged and strode down the hall.

Rasp turned to Tia and gave her an encouraging smile. His hand felt warm on her wrist, and she began to relax.

“Let’s go, Tia. Ms. Frazzle is a bit impatient sometimes, but it’ll be all right.”

Tia nodded, though she still felt a great sense of foreboding as they walked down the dark hallway. But her fear of Ms. Frazzle and what she might do if they disobeyed overshadowed everything else at the moment, and she committed her final mistake.

The theater room was even darker than the hallway, and they tripped their way to a couple of seats in the middle of the room. The darkness seemed to press in on them as they waited for the movie to start. Tia began to breathe faster, panic growing in her chest.

She couldn’t see anything, and she only knew Rasp sat next to her because she was still holding his hand. Normally she would have been too embarrassed to hold it this long, but in the all-consuming dark, it was her only source of comfort. Please, please, let the movie start soon, she willed with all her heart.

She finally saw something. Something that made her heart stop momentarily, something that made her want to scream but at the same time froze her and rendered her noiseless. Where the movie screen should have been was a pair of glowing eyes. No, not just a pair. Dozens of eyes, glowing a sickly greenish yellow, staring hungrily right at her. Then she heard something shuffling towards her, and she finally screamed.

Previous || Next

[toxtricity-v]

I know posts aren’t written with a universal audience in mind and that when people make posts like this they are probably not talking to me but

I HATE posts that are phrased to talk to everyone and say shit like “you NEED to be eating X”

shut up! you do not know a persons needs. just saw one that even went so far as to say they didn’t care if a person has a condition that makes it hard. shut up shut up! things that are healthy for most people are not necessarily good for everyone! like. my body does not tolerate cellulose. it makes me throw up. I can only tolerate vegetables in very specific circumstances, and I’m even then I will, not might, WILL, throw up part of the meal. I also receive premade meals in the mail as a disability accommodation. These meals are inevitably designed to cater to the Healthy Diet For Everyone. and as a result, I can’t eat like half of every single one because it’s steamed vegetables that will make me sick. nothing I can even do about it. it’s not possible to receive medical meals for MY medical needs. not to mention all the other stuff they send me that is prohibited for me (whole grain bread —I’m on a low fiber diet. milk —lactose intolerant. pineapple fruit/juice —allergic. tomatoes…allergic again.)

idk man it is an active problem in my life that everything presumes there is only one way to be healthy. I’m so sick of dealing with it. I DONT want to see it on tumblr too! leave nutrition advice to people’s doctors!!!

[grodyego]

i need to get out of working in childcare dude

[sharkieboi]

certain fb group for animal care people just makes me sad sometimes cause it’s either just people looking for engagement by asking a very easily searchable question with “cute animal pic for tax!!1!1!1!!1!” so they can get some likes or people discussing actual literal human rights violations that their workplace is trying to commit and being like “but am i the bad person for buying donuts for my team when susan in HR who i never interact with is lactose intolerant?” or people using the anonymous post option to have impromptu group therapy

[swazzielindazzie]

.

[phoenix-reburned]

Hey catblr do y'all know if there are any affordable and healthy alternatives to regular kitty litter? Preferably stuff that would still help with odor. I've heard of a few different kinds but I figure it's better to hear first hand from y'all. If kitty litter is the best then I'm totally cool using it I'm just trying to see if there are better alternatives if I do end up getting to bring biscuit to my dorm next semester.

[mikkeneko]

I've been musing a bit on that one post that went around during the recent holiday season, to which someone added their family tradition of Present Practice. My god! Imagine actually telling kids what behavior is expected, instead of expecting them to intuit it and punish them when they get it wrong!!

Separate post because this topic is a little tangential to that, but I think it does a great job of unearthing one of our very well-hidden internal biases, which goes as follows:

Good people don't need to be taught.

A good person (in this case, a good child) shouldn't need to be told to be gracious and grateful when given a gift. A good child should just know that a holiday tradition of gift-giving is a social performance to strengthen family bonds and that personal preference or genuine reactions are secondary to that performance. A good child should just know how to value gifts, how to express thanks, how to praise and compliment. No caretakers in their lives should need to put any effort into instructing or modeling these things.

Good people should just know how to be good. If they were really Ontologically Good, their inherent goodness would simply intuitively guide them to correct behaviors. If they can't do that on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.

.

.

...Which all sounds very reasonable and obvious, and surely a mistake that only fundie christian families would make! Except that people in the social justice sphere also do this all the time. It's not anybody's job to educate you. It's 2024, how do you not know this already? If you were a Good Person, you wouldn't need to be taught. You would simply intuit the correct philosophies and gravitate to them according to your superior internal moral compass.

If you were a Good Person, you would already know that everything you were taught by your family and/or background was wrong. You should have rejected it already. You should have cut off your family, your heritage, everything about your childhood and upbringing that was Bad and Wrong. You should have known it was all a lie.

If you were a Good Person, you should be able to find the correct way yourself. You should be able to seek out the proper educational resources, and distinguish them from bad advice leading you astray, and make sense of them all according to your own internal moral code.

If you were a Good Person, you would have found your way by the proper, dignified, official channels, not by reading a comic or watching anime. You shouldn't need entertainment or art to guide you. You should just know.

And if someone can't do these things on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.

[fromthebirdcage]

I have much to say… I thought this might help me in some way, typing it out or something. I’m not a writer, I’ve never truly journaled. I’ve wanted to be one of those women or I guess I should say “girls” who had a collection of old journals from their younger years but I just could never quite get into it. It just felt fake and too forced to me… but as of right now, this doesn’t. But I do have a lot to say, but I don’t know where to start.

My life is fucked up. I know so many people have it much worse than my own, but I can’t help but complain to the universe… I just don’t feel heard or understood. I feel cursed. Nope, I’m not some teenager. I’m I full blown adult, almost 35. It’s depressing. They tell you each milestone birthday or when you enter high school or college, “this will be the best years of your life”. People lie, why do they do that? I’m still waiting for that to happen. Yes, I hear what you’re thinking or about to type… you don’t need to say it. Effort or some words of encouragement. Yes, yes. I over use ellipses, I’m seriously trying my best not to use them but they just come out of no where.

Oh well, this is my first post writing… so ah, there’s that.

Thanks for reading.

-Ghost