#every time I see a person excuse their shitty actions on hormones

[king0fcrows]

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[rat-apologist]

A Semi-In depth Review of Anna Todd’s After

So I’ve been seeing the trailer for the movie adaptation of this book every five seconds on my Instagram feed, and as a proud dyslexic unwilling to sit down and read it, I listened to the audiobook.

Again, these are all my opinions, if you don’t agree that’s okay.

Here is a quick, spoiler free plot synopsis for those who want/need it: Being moved from Wattpad into the real world of publishing, After follows a girl named Tessa, who simultaneously has the mentality of a five year old and an old man from the 1800’s. She is eighteen years old and is going to college to be an English major. Tessa loves control, planning, and books. She's an introvert at heart, and “not like other girls” (i.e. dresses conservatively, is a virgin (the books words, not mine)). She has a shitty mom and a nice, preppy, boyfriend who is still in high school, and her life is completely planned out. That’s all turned upside down when the poster child for emotional abuse named Harden (harry styles) waltzes into her life during a frat party her first week of college. Your typical Wattpad/teen movie drama ensues.

(the actual review under the cut)

This review is chock full of spoilers for Anna Todd’s book After. If you want a good idea of what I thought about this book without any spoilers I’ll just say this: I can really honestly say I was never bored while listening to this book. However, that is not necessarily a good thing. Often times I was just too much in awe of the clunky writing and truly evil supposedly “redeemable” characters to be bored. On a one to five star scale, I’d probably give it a two. More on that later.

Here are the things I liked:

(this one is only applicable to the audiobook) the narrator was amazing, her voice acting was very appropriate (though she did tend to drop accents sometimes- but that is forgiven because of how otherwise amazing her line delivery was- especially considering the quality of the dialogue).

Landon and Dakota were my favorite characters, and even though they had no personalities beyond what they meant to Tess and how they interacted with Harden (Hardin? Again, I listened to the audiobook I’ve got no idea how to spell that lmao) they still made the book better to listen to.

Despite the repetition of plot/narrative structures I can happily say again that I was never really bored.

Okay moving on to more mixed-bag feelings:

So the last chapter was from Harden’s perspective, and I thought that was an interesting idea. Learning what one character thinks, especially since our protagonist is, how you say, a little bad at reading/interacting with other human people. However the execution left something to be desired for me. It quite literally was just the exact same scene we just saw from the previous chapter, but from Hardens perspective instead of Tess’s. Which was just ended up being unnecessarily repetitive at times.

I liked how Tessa tried to be less judgmental throughout the book, however her growth is very, very limited.

I liked the fact that they mentioned they used condoms in pretty much every sex scene, and that most of the time clear verbal consent/clear nonverbal consent was given for the sexual stuff. That does not happen often in books, especially in fan fiction from what I understand.

I like that Tess does stand up for herself, while I could sometimes see myself comparing her to Bella Swan considering how much of her personality does kind of revolve around her relationship with Harden, she certainly was more vocal about her feelings. And boy, did she have a lot of feelings.

Moving on to the things I didn’t like, this is probably going to be a mix on writing, characters, and plot points so bear with me. (I’m saving my many thoughts on the twist for last)

Okay so a big number one is the biggest plot driver, the love story. So, I feel like it goes without saying, but the main relationship is SUPER unhealthy. Harden constantly stalks, manipulates, and bullies Tess throughout the whole book. He is pretty much abusive, using her caring for him to his own advantage and then dropping her when it suits him. Plus his hyper-sexualization of her “virtue” is really really nasty. Tess pretty much cries in every interaction they have together, and even acknowledges how toxic their relationship is, and yet I’m supposed to root for them? Hmm… I don’t think so

The near constant slut shaming and girl hate in this book bothers me, especially when it’s mixed with the hints of “I’m not like other girls” from Tess

The character descriptions kinda weird me out considering how much Harden is described like Harry Styles, like literally a tumblr punk edit of Harry Styles

The dialogue is… bad. To all the writers out there (myself included) make sure you read your dialogue out loud to see if it sounds natural, that way if your Wattpad fanfiction ever does get published, and your book is adapted into audiobook, you’ll avoid a situation like this one. Because, especially listening to it, the dialogue in this book is really really bad. Honest to god it sounds like robots imitating humans are talking to each other, only they’re trying to convince the other robots that they are humans. For some reason Anna Todd avoided using contractions for most of the book, making the characters sound unnatural and completely out of their predefined characters. Why would these college students not use words like “it’s” “we’ll” and “we’re”? It is truly astonishing, and it makes the few uses of contractions really distracting. Normally I don’t give a shit about grammar since I don’t really understand grammar, and normally grammatical errors aren’t that obvious when listening on audio, but the dialogue was seriously that bad.

The pacing was bad, that’s kinda all I have to say. It was generally too quick during plot development but then took a screeching halt for each fight/sex scene (of which there are many)

The repetition of certain words/phrases really got annoying. Everyone's always screaming, biting on their lip, or smirking. Harden is rude, as Tessa mentioned about eight million times, and Tessa finds his dirty talk arousing. We know this, because Todd uses those phrases about a billion times a chapter.

The sex scenes kind of grossed me out. I’m (in general) fine with sex, but the way the sex scenes were written seriously ucked me out. These college kids avoid using words like “penis” “dick” “pussy” etc. and use really really juvenile words like “down there” and “length”. Maybe this is a fanfiction thing, and I’ll admit that I have not read essentially any fanfiction, but it is truly a disturbing way to write sex. Especially since Tessa is written to have the experience and understanding of sex as like a child, not even understand what an orgasm is and unwilling to say words like penis or vagina, something our loverboy Harden is super attracted to, by the by.

I hate that this book uses “girl almost gets assaulted so man can come in and valiantly protect her” trope. It is super gross and I hate it. That’s kind of all I can say, the use of women's pain so that men can get some amount of redemption is awful.

More on Harden: I am sick of the “violent, broken man that I promise I can fix!” trope. It is used to justify and excuse abuse and I hate it. Tess is honestly scared of him several times in the book and it’s played as a personality quirk of his? Like everyone just accepts that’s how he is? I know for the most part we aren’t supposed to “like” him for the first part of the book, but it’s obvious that the author wants us to root for him and Tessa in some capacity. Especially with the inclusion of his perspective at the end, which in a way is exactly the kind of manipulation that he is into so idk. Also he is possessive despite the fact that they weren’t dating, and he is very clear he does not date. That’s already abuse, but of course there is more. On top of that he is cruel, and pretty stuck-up throughout the book- making him pretty much insufferable to me. And all of this shit just gets worse once the twist is introduced, and no amount of his whining from his chapter could at all change that.

The rest of the characters are all either boring, or the worst people you could ever meet. Tess’s mom, Molly, Jace, all really terrible to offset the horror of Harden. To almost justify what he does- because comparatively he doesn’t seem as bad (up until the twist).

The twist. Dear god the twist. So, as it goes it isn’t an extremely inspired twist. I’ve seen it done before in a similar way (I’m looking at you, Ten Things I Hate About You). For those who are wondering: the big twist is that Harden only really pursued Tess in the beginning because after she revealed she is a virgin at a party early on in the book he makes a pricey bet with Zed (another side character only used to add ~drama~ to Tessa and Harden’s relationship) to see who can take her virginity. All of the subsequent bullying, possessiveness, manipulation, etc. were all a ploy to have sex with her before Zed could. I feel like it goes without saying that that’s disgusting, but let me tell you exactly why: at least if he was actually interested in her at first his weird behavior could possibly be passed off as hormones (I wouldn’t like it, but I’d understand it  more if you’d try to make that argument), but the fact that it was all for a bet not only makes his disgusting actions worse, but makes the fact that he supposedly falls in love with her so much more annoying. Plus, the fact that he literally tries to trap Tessa in a lease so she can’t leave him, and tries to bribe his friends into silence really shows how little he actually cares about Tessa and her thoughts and feelings.  

So, why two stars? Honestly, because I was entertained (for lack of a better word) by this book. Maybe if I actually read it and not just listened to the audiobook it my rating would be lower, maybe if there was just one more sex scene to slow down the pace I would have been more bored. Who knows, but I was entertained. Sometimes by how terrible the dialogue is, by how astonishing the characters decisions were, sometimes by the actual plot. It’s like watching a shitty soap opera, it’s not good by any means, but it certainly keeps your attention.

[acatnamedlulu]

My Thoughts on Channel Awesome- Part 1: The Walkers

So, full disclosure, this is going to get dramatic. This isn’t going to be an “objective look” on the whole controversy surrounding Channel Awesome. This is going to be a biased, unfiltered rant. And it’s gonna get loooooooooong. I’ll put a TL;DR at the end of this, and I’ll try and keep the deep anger and frustration to a minimum to prevent any rambling tangents or “CAPZLOCK YELLING BCUZ I AM ANGER, RRAAAAGH!” 

 Ok, I’m sure many of you already know by now the recent shitstorm of events surrounding Channel Awesome over the past couple weeks, but for those of you unaware, how about a little context:

A few weeks ago (at the time of this posting), several former producers/content creators of Channel Awesome compiled a 70+ page google document titled “Not So Awesome”, each detailing their own shitty experiences working at Channel Awesome. Many of these allegations range from minor jabs, to full legitimate complaints regarding Doug and Rob Walker and especially Channel Awesome CEO Mike Michaud’s behavior. So while maybe one or two points brought up in the document could come off as petty, or just throwing shade, I don’t think that’s a reason to discredit the entire thing.This is nearly a dozen or so ex-producers affiliated with the “TGWTG” website as early as 2008, all with their own experiences and grievances. And even though everyone has a different story to tell, they all seem to be tied together by the same goddamn themes: Not just about the shitty behavior/poor business etiquette of Mike Michaud, but also poor behavior by the Walkers. And although Michaud is absolutely the worst out of all the people being named, I wanna talk about Doug Walker first. And by extent Rob Walker. Although, Rob is more of an issue when it comes to the business end of Channel Awesome as opposed to the actual entertainment, so maybe I’ll talk about him more when I go into a rant about Michaud. Granted, I have a feeling that my opinions on the Walkers are going to be met with a more negative response, and believe me, I completely understand why, but just... just here me out. More bullshit context and backstory, oh happy fucking day!

Alright, so when I was a dumb, hormonal young teen exploring her “edgy” side, I came across the Nostalgia Critic circa 2009-10ish? And after finding the character’s harsh judgement, foul colorful language, and humorous approach to critiquing to be right up my alley, I became an extremely loyal fan of TGWTG. Even after the NC reboot in 2013, I still stuck around and tuned in every week. For as much as I hated some of those goddamn skits, and clipless reviews, I still wanted to hear Doug’s opinion on a movie. He helped me understand film on a critical level that I didn’t think I could reach. And while I don’t consider myself a “critic” in any sense of the word, it was cool to have someone help guide me through an entire medium and look at it in a meaningful and thoughtful way. I eventually started watching Doug and Rob out of character, and both of them seemed like passionate, humble people who enjoy what they do. Watching the NC behind the scenes were sometimes more fun than watching an episode because Doug Walker truly looks like a man who’s dedicated to his work. But as I say this now, this also seems to be one of his biggest flaws. I know this is already longer than it has any business being, but the reason I’m going on this lengthy diatribe, is because I need you guys to understand where I’m coming from, and why I have such a strong stance on this. Which is why I’ll finally get to my fucking point: 

I think Doug Walker needs to be held more accountable for his actions. Or at least his actions need to be taken more seriously/into consideration.

As stupid as this sounds, this has been bugging me since the day the “Not so Awesome” google document has been released. Not so much the contents of the document itself, but rather, some of the reactions around it. The general consensus is that Mike Michaud is a terrible person, and something absolutely needs to be done about him... which is absolutely true. But what bothered me is people’s quick need to, maybe not justify, but brush over the shit that Doug has caused too. One of the biggest issues that many of the producers discuss in the document is the absolute production hell of the CA anniversary movies.

From “Kickassia” all the way up to “To Boldly Flee”, it just baffles me how incompetent and incapable Doug Walker is, both at making a film, and caring for his crew at even the bare minimum. Going back and watching TBF, you don’t even have to read the full extension of what it was like working on the set, because you can practically see it on the actors’ faces! You can just feel the exhaustion of everybody involved except Doug, but that’s because the man was so severely wrapped up in this self-serving ego project, that everyone else gets stepped on as a result. Remember what the stupid plot of TBF was anyway? The Nostalgia Critic brings everyone from CA into space to fight an anomaly called a “plot hole”, only for the NC to make his big damn sacrifice and die as the noble hero, killing off the character for good... until the reboot in 2013. With none of the other producers being notified of this until they received their scripts just a few weeks before filming.Yeah, it’s kinda fucking heartbreaking to know that other contributors and producers were treated as such an afterthought, that they were told this information in this short amount of time, in a movie that they were starring in. 

Several people have pointed out the lack of basic necessities needed on a film set such as catering and water. Guys, this isn’t a group of kids dicking around with a camera and a computer for a few hours and making a home movie. This was an actual production supervised by grown adults who needed to be told during filming that “people need food and water”. Across the course of several films. One of which was filmed in the Nevada desert. How difficult would it have really been to stop off at a fucking Walmart, gather up some coolers and ice bags, some of those 24 packs of water in bulk and keep it at a safe location on the damn set? This isn’t something that requires a goddamn film degree to understand, it’s common fucking sense. It’s just baffling to me that these painstaking efforts from the producers were just “voluntary” positions, too. The document itself goes into much more detail of how that shit works, so I’ll be posting it at the end of this rant, you’re welcome. 

And this is where I draw the line of giving Doug a pass. You can’t convince me that this level of negligence is just some kind of mistake that can be easily forgiven. I can’t believe that people can defend Doug on the grounds of “well, he’s just the pawn in this” or “he was just being naive and selfish”. No, this type of naivete and lack of basic human decency has caused people physical harm. Several actors sustained injuries throughout the production of the anniversary films. This usually ended with both Doug and Rob shrugging some of these off, while others had to sign contracts in order for CA to avoid a lawsuit. That is fucking insane!

A couple producers in the document recall how Doug was more involved with the business aspect of CA. He was more than just a puppet for Mike Michaud. Remember, the anniversary movies were written by him and Rob. And while Michaud was most likely the one who had the final say of what went on, Doug was the overseer of these projects. These were his creations, and he should have taken full responsibility for what was going on. And for him to have such a cynical and uncaring approach to the treatment of both the characters within the film, and the producers portraying them is sickening. This man has put on the persona of being this nice, approachable, easy to work/converse with person for years, and to hear how egotistical and negligent he truly is. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there was always something a bit self-centered about Doug, but knowing what I know now... like, it’s hard to explain why I feel so guilty about supporting Doug for as long as I did. I know we all can say “oh, well, it’s not like we knew”, but see, the thing is, I kind of did. The incidents with Obscurus Lupa weren’t completely unknown beforehand. Since like, 2015, people have been bringing this shit up, and I willingly chose to ignore it because I was such a huge NC fan. I just blindly kept watching the show and pretending CA was this cool, friendly place and nothing was wrong. Yeah, I’m not gonna act like I’m such a good person for bashing Doug, and I know that I shouldn’t have had such blind support. But the good news is, I don’t now.  I know better, and I hope we all can move on from this, and learn. 

Ok, so going back and reading this overly dramatic tripe, I realize I may have gone off the rails at some points. So before this turns into an “amateur hour smear campaign”, I think I’m going to split this up into two parts. I already said all I want to say about Doug and Rob. But I still have issues with Mike Michaud that are probably the same opinions everyone and their mother has expressed on this insane human being. But I still wanna get some stuff off my chest. Anyway, this is now Part 1 of the “Lunatic ravings of a disgruntled former fangirl” saga, maybe some of you would like to join me for My Thoughts on Channel Awesome Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. 

and now for the TL;DR

I think Doug Walker is an inept, egotistical man who has hurt people both emotionally, and sometimes physically to get what he wants. And people shouldn’t excuse his actions just because he doesn’t run the CA site in the way Mike Michaud does. If he’s going to go through the trouble of making a fucking movie, especially one that’s nearly four hours long, he should make sure the crew is at least hydrated and not exhausted all the goddamn time. Doug is a grown ass man, and he should carry these responsibilities like an adult. Maybe then, the CA anniversary movies would be at least a little less cringey to watch. Rant on Michaud coming soon. Peace out, dickholes. 

The “Not So Awesome” document

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WZFkR__B3Mk9EYQglvislMUx9HWvWhOaBP820UBa4dA/preview#heading=h.smmxroimnosh

[galacticgarbagedump-blog]

Craig x Depressed!Reader: Heart of Gold (South Park)

Your footsteps echoed through the halls of your empty home as you hummed quietly to yourself. Another day playing nice cop, another day being a sweetheart, another day convincing people that you were the kindest, loveliest person alive. You knew you weren't; you were far from the perfect, angelic being everyone believed you to be, and you hated yourself for it. Your parents were never home to console you, they were too busy going out and getting high to forget they even created you to notice, though you supposed they wouldn't care anyways. They'd blame it on hormones and such, as apparently all teens are suicidal and sad all the time, and it magically disappears once they reach adulthood.

Everyone loved you, except for yourself. You believed yourself to be a disgusting, two faced liar who only acted like a good person to hide their own selfish, revolting personality. You sighed quietly to yourself, figuring it'd be another day of self loathing and pity. You should've been used to this by now, but it hurt that nobody took the time to get to know you well enough to see through your facade. Or so you thought.

You pulled out your device, shuffling through your music and relaxing, trying to calm your nerves as you made yourself a nice cup of tea. Tomorrow would be the same as today, and the next day, and the next, and so on. Your eyes became blurry with tears at that thought. You didn't want things to stay the same forever, but you didn't know how to change them. You couldn't just stop being happy towards everyone. People would worry, and then when they found out what you were really like, they'd turn on you.

~*~*~

You sat in your usual seat at the back of the class, a permanent smile etched into your face. Your so-called friends greeted you warmly, and you returned the gesture, beginning to tune out of their conversation about the hottest new shoes on the market, and instead delving into the more dark corners of your mind. Did they already hate you? You asked yourself these things every day. Perhaps they did. Perhaps they only saw you as an object. A pushover. Perhaps they secretly gossiped about you and spread rumors behind your back.

Then what was all of this for? This fake, plastic plate around your heart painted to look gold? Was this ruse even worth the pain and effort? Did these people even deserve your disguise?

One of them commented on your drained, sagging features, but you only played it off as a lack of sleep the night before. You weren't lying. They accepted it, joking about it before returning to their previous mindless chatter. You felt a pair of eyes watching you from across the room, meeting navy blue irises and a middle finger aimed at your figure. His concern was obvious to you, you had practice in the field of reading other's body language and sensing moods, and you could practically feel the worry dripping onto you as if it were lightly raining down onto your mind.

You waved him off as well, mouthing the same excuse you had used on the girls in front of you. You could tell he didn't buy it, but class started before he could say anything. The onyx haired boy turned to the front of the class, much to your relief. You were too exhausted to be interrogated by Craig today, even if he was your best friend and someone you loved dearly. You just weren't feeling good enough to talk with him without spilling everything today; he always had a habit of pulling things out of you.

~*~

You set your lunch tray down calmly, smiling at the boys in front of you. While most kids in South Park labelled themselves with some sort of group or clique, you generally just wandered around, sitting with whoever would allow it. "Good afternoon, guys. How are you?" You smiled cheerfully, your head reeling. You wanted to know what they really thought as you sat next to Kenny, receiving an equally cheery chorus of 'hello's and 'how are you's.

Cartman was staying unusually quiet, you had noticed. He was staring at you, and for some reason this scared you; you simply smiled sweetly at him as he seemingly examined you.

"You're a fucking liar." He stated, narrowing his icy blue eyes at you. You were taken aback by his words, your eyes widening and smile fading. "What do you mea-" "You're not fucking tired, you're sad. Why don't you just tell people that, are you stupid or something? You don't always have to smile and shit, actually it's creepy as hell sometimes. Don't pretend to be something you aren't. As much as I really fucking hate to admit it, I'm friends with your dumbass and I'd rather you be sad and truthful about it then hiding it like a little bitch and laughing all the time." His eyes were soft, though he was glaring.

It was obvious, and a shocker, to everyone that he was looking out for you.

Your mouth twitched a bit and you felt something drip from your chin. You were crying in front of everyone, and you hated it. You choked out a sob, hugging yourself tightly. Cartman sighed, his expression relaxing. "Oh goddamnit." He stood up and silently pulled you up (a bit roughly but this is Cartman here he's doing his best for once), leading you out of the cafeteria and into the hallway.

Cold blue eyes glared at him as he helped you, but he didn't give a shit. Craig could cry like a pussy about it later, Cartman had more important things to do right now. He hated seeing his friends upset, and though he would never admit it, he would always be there to help them when they needed it.

Even that stupid fucking ginger Jew, Kyle.

As he tugged you behind the doors and made sure the halls were empty so that you could cry in peace, Craig silently followed, staying behind the double doors to listen in on whatever was bothering you. His heart practically broke in two when he saw you crying like that, and with Cartman nonetheless. He had to admit, for once he was jealous of the fat boy.

What could Cartman do that he couldn't? Why weren't you comfortable enough to show your true feelings in front of him too? He heard you sob again and his heart fell, almost bringing him to tears as well. He knew you weren't happy, he had known for a while now, but to see you so vulnerable hurt him so badly. You were so precious to him, he loved you so much. He just wished he had the balls to tell you that.

Stan's table was silent, in fact, most of the cafeteria was, aside from the whispers of gossip and rumours of what had happened, and the regular chatter of those who didn't know who you were or didn't care to know. He covered his ear opposite of the door to hear you better.

Outside, you clung to Cartman as he nervously and gently hugged you back, rubbing small circles into your shoulder blades​.

He had no idea how to comfort someone, why did he even think this would be a good idea.

You looked up at him through watery, puffy red eyes and tear stained cheeks, and his heart wrenched. You were honestly his favorite friend, and he even admitted to the guys once that he thought you were fucking awesome. He cared for you in a brotherly way.

"C-Cartman, it hurts. It hurts s-so much. How do I m-make it stop?" You barely hiccuped the sentence out as more salty tears streamed down your face, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

You couldn't remember the last time you cried so painfully like this.

Cartman pulled you to his chest so that you couldn't see the tears forming in his own eyes. "Wh-y... Why does it hurt, (Y/N)? Did- did someone do something shitty to you, because I'll get that stupid fucking Jew and we'll fuck them up." He mentally cursed his voice crack as he shakily ran his fingers through your hair. He knew you were emotionally damaged, but jesus christ it was so much worse than he thought.

How the fuck do you manage to smile all the damn time?

You calmed down a bit, and told him everything. By the end of it, your eyes burned and you could barely breathe, and Cartman had to wipe his eyes more than once. Craig kept his head down and covered his face with his hand, shoulders silently shaking. He was pulled back to the table by Token, who didn't dare ask him what was wrong. His parents knew yours personally when you had first moved here, and there were no good stories for them to tell him. He had an idea of what you were going through. The cafeteria was silent as you stepped back inside and to your table.

You were uncomfortable with the way everyone's eyes seemed to be glued to you as though you were the most interesting thing on the planet.

You didn't speak a word to anyone for the rest of the day, and no one approached you besides Cartman or occasionally Butters (trying to make you feel better with cute items and admittedly succeeding more than once; he was too pure).

~*~

That night as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, you realized the impact of your actions. Now everyone's attention would be glued to you for the next two months. You should've played it off and waited until later to tell Cartman the truth.

Of course, then you probably would've decided to keep it closed up still anyways.

You didn't regret telling him, in fact, letting it out made you feel a hell of a lot better, and one time Kyle said that Cartman would never do anything bad to you because he thought you were fucking awesome. You just didn't want to be the center of attention.

You hated the feeling of being watched, especially for reasons such as this. Drama wasn't exactly something you were fond of. You wondered how you would deal with that. You could just say your cat died, everyone knows you have a cat.

Or maybe you could make up a family member and say that they passed away.

A soft knock on your window ripped you out of your thoughts, and you confusedly sat upright in your bed, forgetting the fact that you slept in your underwear and, against your better judgement, flicked on your lights. As you pulled back the curtains, you saw Craig's face smushed against the glass, and, stifling a laugh at the ridiculous image, let him inside.

"Hey Tucker. What's up?" You spoke softly out of habit, your parents weren't​ home, and they probably wouldn't be for a while.

To your surprise, Craig pulled you onto your bed with him and held you close. "Craig, umm, what are you-"

"Holy shit you're warm (Y/N)."

"And you're cold! What are you doing?" He shrugged, pulling the blanket over you and pushing down the heat threatening to rise to his cheeks at the sight of you half naked.

"Sleeping with you."

... Fuck that came out wrong. Both of your faces were bright red as he shifted uncomfortably. "I-I didn't mean it like that. I meant I'm keeping you company and shit. Because you're cool. And I like you. Wait, shit, fuck, I-" He was interrupted by your laughter as he buried his face in his hands, peeking at you through his fingers and smiling lightly from behind​ his palms as he watched you laugh genuinely.

"Oh my god Craig, what a charmer." He snorted, which only made you laugh harder. After you calmed down, you gazed over at him, still smiling. Your smile soon faded as you realized the real reason he showed up at your window only a few minutes earlier.

"You're here to talk about what happened at lunch, right?" You sighed, standing up and throwing on a large t-shirt before turning back to him and smiling softly, "I'll make us some hot cocoa and I'll tell you everything, alright? We're best friends after all, I feel like you have the right to know what's going on with me." He sat up, hugging you from behind and burying his face in your neck. "You don't have to you know." You took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of pine and strawberry shampoo that he gave off, messing with his hair a bit.

"Yeah, but, I want to. It's not fair to keep secrets from you, and it's not like I can just leave you without knowing. It's kind of out there."

He nodded and slowly let you go, glad that you trusted him enough to tell him too, and not just that fat fucker, Cartman.

~*~

After you had said your piece, and more tears were shed, Craig practically clung to you, both mugs of cocoa completely empty. "(Y/N)... You don't always have to smile. You don't have to go through this by yourself. I don't know what you're going through, and I won't pretend that I've experienced it, but I can try to understand for you. I want to be something to you. I..." He trailed off, the three words he wanted to say so badly gripping his throat as he tried to swallow down his fears. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as you looked to him expectantly.

"Goddamnit, I love you so fucking much holy shit you have no idea." He wanted to scream at himself for the way he confessed. Was that really the best he could fucking do?

His train of thought was cut short as he felt your shoulders shake and salty tears drip on to his jacket. He fucked up. "Shit, (Y/N), I'm sorry, I-I-" He was cut off yet again by your sweet laugh, and he realized that you were crying out of joy this time. "I love you too, Craig. So fucking much, you have no idea, holy shit." You pecked his lips lightly.

And he grinned from ear to ear, feeling like the luckiest person alive.

[masslessobtrusion]

Jordan Peterson, Joe Rogan, and my brother...

Edit: 

Tl;dr: Jordan Peterson’s self-empowerment does not apply to those who are addicted to drugs and are currently living in abusive households. It’s okay to give people a lending hand when they ask. Telling them to go to a doctor and get a job when they explain their struggles, how they are broken and don’t know how to go to a doctor and get a job. For several years. Is not the best course of action. 

It’s impossible to know what it’s like to be poor when you will never have to worry about it because your parents planned for your life properly and especially when your parents have hurt and manipulated you for years.

My oldest brother has told me to check out Jordan Peterson. I’ve known about him for a while. I used to be really into Joe Rogan and UFC, but I am no longer a fan and am actually embarrassed I used to like him. 2010-2017 . I listened to him some more today. He preached about how men need to forge their own path because no one is going to do it for them. That’s great advice. It’s empowering. Especially if you’re a small man with no father, which is why I feel this hits home with my oldest brother.  He’s short for a guy. 5f5-t6. He says 5ft8. Probably in shoes. Because every 5ft10 guy claims to be 6ft and it makes for awkward situations. I don’t condone insulting someone for their height. It’s something I’ve personally never worried about, because I’ve never had to. He has. It’s a struggle for a lot of shorter people and I understand this. I never really thought of him as short. When, I do, it explains the behavior in a way that I may be onto something.  We’ve had mutual friends, but he has always had different rules for us. He’s stricter with us. We don’t talk about our feelings. He’s in charge. He claims he’s always busy. He has worked at a used video game store in a part-time capacity while attending school for 20+. 3 kids, divorced. I had my grasp on millions of dollars. I touched mountain tops and gorgeous women on 100ft yachts. I did this coming from nothing and working an entry-level retail job. I met so many people who don’t have to worry about money it warped my perspective greatly. 

My Dad more or less disowned my oldest brother as a bastard child and treated him harsh early-on. Perhaps he sees my suffering as validation of his decision to move out. I’ve tried relating to him on my Father’s abuse and multiple hobbies. Cycling, guitar, video games, music. He’s not interested. 

He refuses to show any sort of compassion or empathy towards me. “Man, just look at him. He’s so bitter and resentful of anyone who is more successful or wealthier than him. He’s like a biker now. That’s why you don’t do drugs.”. It’s never too late to start. I have told him that. I can recall 2 times I have hung out with him in the last 10 years. His boundaries make for a shitty relationship.   Jordan Peterson was addicted to Xanax. When I hear him speak. I hear the same excuses every junkie makes. Instead of going through withdrawal and a taper. He went to Russia and received a treatment he couldn’t get in other countries. He was put into a coma for over 8 days. When I went through xanax withdrawal, I was also addicted to heroin. Nearly died from seizures. I had a broken jaw the entire time, I spent 7 days in ICU. 3 days in a psych ward AFTER that. I hadn’t made a mention of suicide since the first or second day. I refused to be admitted to the psych ward several times. They told me I had to sign the papers or the police were coming in. This was the only defiant act other than when I first woke up in the ICU after the seizure. 

My jaw was shifted several inches and locked open. I couldn’t close my mouth for 10 days. I chewed with my tongue and top teeth. Because the inside of my cheek was pinched between my teeth, cut open, and infected.  Every time I talked. I chewed on the inside of my cheek.   I received no pain killers. I went to an oral surgeon at a dental college, with no anesthetic he snapped my jaw back in place. It took several minutes and another injection of lidocaine and cold spray. It didn’t help much. I was screaming. 

After this. The abuse of my father continued. I also ran out of SSRI’s after 3 months of venlafaxine. SSRI withdrawal was new to me. I experienced it from December 2019-March 2020. I experienced a vertigo like sensation when I turned my head. It almost sounded like Star Wars blasters because there was high frequency ringing in my ears and the pitch would change when I turned my head. My vision felt a little warped too. I believe this sensation is what is commonly referred to as “brain zaps”. 

I can already hear Jordan Peterson’s excuses. “But I help save people’s lives!” “I am different.” “I am the exception.”. It’s the same excuses every junkie who doesn’t like admitting mistakes makes. The first comment on the Jordan Peterson video I watched where he talks about the horrors of Xanax. It says “We love you Jordan, get well soon Brother!”.  It’s a cult-like group now. Pushing books, health pills, blenders. Whatever they can hock to people in order to keep their lifestyles up.  My first thought. Ha, that’s probably my brother. He’s never said anything like that to me before. 

Never. It’s not required. But it doesn’t exist between us. Never has. I tried to correct that and told him I liked how the families I met elsewhere acted towards each other and he agreed. Especially as his divorce and my moving back home coincided. I saw this as an opportunity to get to know him better. We did several things together but the kids were always there. It quickly became a chore. I made it clear several times that I had issues I wanted to address and speak about regarding my health and safety. Involving my parents. Involving my lungs, and living situation. I just wanted someone to talk to. I made that clear. Anyone. My middle brother is too shy and dumb to comprehend the big brain level I operate at. He’ll get triggered.  “Yeah dude, you should find a wife who will pay for your shit and work part-time for a poverty wage while being a part-time stay at home Dad.”. Knock’er up 3-4 times and complain about being poor when you have no career or college education until your mid 40′s. Yeah dude, you’re doing it all wrong. Just do it right!”.

I felt like some of the girls I dated, would’ve been into marriage. But seriously, I was so awkward around girls until my mid-20′s. No confidence that I was attractive or that a lot of the girls I was friend-zoning myself in wanted to fuck like porn stars. Or your heads on my lap?

I didn’t want to marry Lauren. I thought she was too beautiful and talented to be influenced by my negativity. That’s honestly what I told myself when I stayed up, watched her sleep, to make sure she was still breathing. I haven’t really written about her yet. It’s going to be tough. 

He’s not a trashy person or a mean person by any means. He’s always been a smug little prick, with a holier than thou. Despite having the same hobbies. He never invited me or accepted my invitations. I think it’s weird. You’re my brother. Stop being so weird about everything and put your guard down for a second. Take-off the lifts. Everyone knows. 

I never put much thought into how being short could have an impact in our relationship. But with all of the Joe Rogan memes about how he over-compensates for his small stature by framing shots with furniture. I realized that my brother does over-compensate for his lack of height.  I think most smaller men do. There’s nothing wrong with that, except for the overly macho way Rogan talks about how someone who is insecure about their height needs to conquer their inner-bitch and start a podcast. Channel the “violence” in your DNA as he has.  He’s being a hypocrite. The dude is on so many drugs and hormones, his head increased 3x. Good for him, right? Except the dude tells millions of cult-like followers that hormones are fucked up. The fake-it until you make-it attitude is selfish and shallow. The average person interprets that as, “It’s okay to lie, cheat, and steal, as long as you make money.” “Be selfish, it’s the best way, when it benefits you! Socialism is good?”. Sending me mixed signals.

Seems like he only cares because he realizes it makes him hypocritical and I feel Joe Rogan is overly-sensitive about anything that could make him appear as homosexual.  So, that’s where the attraction in these leaders of men who don’t feel powerful, didn’t have fathers, and feel abandoned in the world are attracted to people like this. They seek guidance and found it.  I simply want to seek guidance from my friends and family. I don’t have friends and I don’t have family.  I should’ve shacked up with a wealthy girl in Colorado when I had the chance, right?. I thought that was such a shallow and shitty way to think. My parents would always say that. But, I chose to continue valuing making my own path. My brothers actually tried to hurt me during this time and that’s the only time they have done so. I think they were jealous that I was living on my own. I was struggling and poor. But I was doing it. I am capable.  Going down the path of addiction. I’ve been through heroin withdrawal 50-100 times. I chipped and shot up, used daily when I could. Got sick when I couldn’t. Benzos twice. SSRI’s once.  It’s similar to how someone who will never run out of money or be in a position such as yourself. Telling you to get a job and go to the doctor. After everything I just wrote(I don’t expect many, if anyone to read this and likely dismiss me as a severely disturbed individual to be avoided.). Keep in mind. A lot of the abuse from my parents, happened leading up to and AFTER my most recent suicide attempt. Calling me fat happened 5 months after I was released. I asked my Dad to stop calling me names “worthless fat piece of shit” or laugh when I’m making food. He knows I have a history of cutting and getting bullied. He’s just ignorant.  That’s why it’s weird to see him with such low energy and I feel there is something going on with him health wise. He is incapable of being nice for some reason. So, he is just not going to speak to me now. That is better. I wish he could just understand, admit his mistakes, and move on. That’s a trend in my family. No one admits mistakes. These people snap and go crazy rather than admit any sort of mistake. I used to be like that when I was younger. But I snapped out of it when I was around ~20yrs olds thanks to hallucinogenic drugs.  Alright, that’s enough. If I ever lose my vocal chords due to the throat cancer I likely have. At least I’m a decent enough writer. I could condense this greatly, by not rambling and getting my point across in a formatted/concise manner.  Typing and writing keep my fingers nimble. I started playing acoustic guitar last week. First time in a year or so. I might upload something.

[hotmessexpress11]

Fifteen.

This one is a little hard to start. I have so many things I want to say, and need to say, but there was so much that happened that I’m unsure where to start. I don’t want to tell this like it’s some tragic love story because it is quite the opposite. I guess I will start with what has made me want to retell this portion of my life. About a year ago I had a dream about the first guy I ever dated. It was a vivid dream that drove me crazy for weeks (I’ll get back to this). A few days ago, almost exactly a year apart, I had another dream about the same ex. This dream I barely remember and it didn’t really seem to have a point. In the 9-10 years it’s been since I was with him, I have never had a dream about him. It had probably been a good 9-10 years since I had even really thought about him. With this second dream being almost a year apart from the first, I decided I needed to figure out why my subconscious is bringing him into my dreams. So I’m telling the story of my first relationship. 

It started during the summer before my sophomore year of high school. I was fifteen. I had an unhealthy relationship with myself that was fueled even more by the complete lack of love and care I felt from one of my parents (this is a whole other story I’m not ready to talk about). I didn’t know it then, but I was looking for someone, a guy, to fill the void of the attention I was not getting. I don’t really know if it started out that way or if that is what it turned in to, but none the less that is what happened. I had never had a “real” boyfriend, never kissed a boy, never done anything with a boy. People probably would of assumed otherwise because I carried myself in a certain way, and some would say I was quite a bit of a flirt. I had become quite accustomed to receiving attention because I had, had boobs since I was about 12. I learned to enjoy the attention. I know now that it was never the attention I should of enjoyed or allowed, but like I stated earlier, I was desperate for some form of attention. Enter “the guy.” I will be nice and keep his name to myself. I’m still unsure exactly how this all got started. He was an ex of a girl,we’ll call her X, that I was friends with and was on drill team with me, and I was really close friends with one of her other ex’s, Stephen, and I think somehow Stephen and “the guy” became friends due to having her in common. It was high school, shit was weird. I for sure remember the first time he contacted me. I don’t even know if we had actually met, maybe once right before he contacted me. I was at my best friend Sam’s house, with our other best friend Bailey and maybe a few other girls. It was pretty late and I got a text from a number I didn’t know. It didn’t take long for me to find out it was “the guy.” I wish I could remember the details, but I want to say I was a little hard to get at first because I knew he had dated my friend and I think the things I had heard about him from her weren’t that great. Needless to say, after that night of a little exchange things slowly started to take off from there. I guess I should let this detail be know, he was 18 and going into his senior year of high school. 

It didn’t take long before we were texting a lot and started hanging out. I was stoked that I a guy, especially an older guy, was interested in me. He knew I had zero experience in the dating department and really the everything department. He on the other hand, had all the experience. Even though he had a ton of experience, he seemed sweet, kind, gentle, and seemed to really care about me. However, looking back on it he was a smooth talker and really good at making it seem like he cared. I will never forget, as much as I wish I could, the first time he kissed me. I never had so many butterflies in that moment. He asked me if I was okay with him kissing me. See, sweet right? Most of my memories are blurry, but there are a few that stick out.

We spent June “hanging out.” It wasn’t until early July that he asked me to be his girlfriend. Thinking back on this, it’s very interesting because we both kept our blooming relationship pretty quiet, at least quiet enough that my friends didn’t really know a whole lot, and quiet enough that X wouldn’t find out either because I had already asked her if she was okay with us talking and she wasn’t, but being the teenager I was I did what I wanted anyway. Funny enough, the picture at the top was taken at a party for our mutual friend’s birthday, just days before he asked me to be his girlfriend. Even though he’s next to me in the picture, not a single person at that party would of known him and I were pretty much together because we didn’t act like it. Especially because X’s best friend was at that party too, she’s in the picture right in between us. It should of been a sign then that if we had to keep it slightly hidden, it probably wasn’t a good idea. RED FLAGS EVERYWHERE! 

Anyway. This is the part where it gets hard to tell, and eventually a little graphic. Him knowing that I had no experience we took things “slow,” if you wanna call it that. Without getting too graphic, before we were ever “official” we worked our way up to “messing around”/ “third base.” We hung out at what you would call “second base” for a little while. I can’t even tell you when “third base” happened because I don’t remember. I do remember “fourth base,” but I’m not there yet in this story. It’s important to know that this was progressive. You know that thing I mentioned earlier about desperately wanting attention, and learning to enjoy the comments about my boobs? Yeah. That got all criss crossed in my head. I was receiving the attention I wanted from a boy, who claimed to care a lot about me, and who I was having a lot sexual interactions with (still no sex we’re getting there). I thought that caring about me=sexual interactions. This isn’t all we did. There were obviously reasons and actions that made me believe he did care about me, I just have a shitty memory and/or I’ve blocked all the small details out.  Around a month of being together, we started to talk about having sex. I honestly don’t remember if he was more pushing it or if it was something we actually discussed; so I don’t want to put that on him. I do remember being nervous about it, slightly wanting to but still being pretty scared and nervous to actually do it.

THIS IS ABOUT TO GET GRAPHIC.

The summer hadn’t ended yet, so I was home a lone during the day. He came over to my house while my parents weren’t there. We decided we were going to go swimming. Somehow or another, swimming turned into skinny dipping. I don’t remember clearly who’s idea it was, but I have a good guess at which one of us suggested it. We were doing what teenagers do in a pool, we were making out, wrapped around each other (still no sex), being the hormonal teenagers that we were. Then it happened and I wish I could forget it. I was up against the wall next to the stairs of the pool, my front side facing the wall. I think I was checking my phone or something, I don’t quite remember. He came up behind me. Sexual interactions took place that I was okay with because it wasn’t the first time. Then, he penetrated me and proceeded to ask me “is this okay?” I remember my mind starting to race because it just happened, I was too afraid to say no because I wasn’t really for sure, it took me by surprise, and it was already happening, so instead I said yes, and we got out of the pool, went to my room, and finished having sex for the first time. I wish with everything in me I would of said no. It took me a really long time, several years, to comprehend what had actually happened. I have refused to say I was raped because I said yes, but I was manipulated. 

After the first time we had sex, that’s pretty much what the relationship turned into. I started sneaking out of my house just about every night so that we could have sex because it didn’t take long for my mom to find out about the “first” time (that’s also another story) so the rules got pretty strict. I think in my fifteen year old mind, I thought sex was something I was supposed to be doing. Fast forward two months later. It was October. Our birthdays are just two weeks apart. By this time he was living on his own in an apartment with one of his best friends. His friends were throwing him a party at the apartment for his birthday. Obviously, I wasn’t allowed to go. He cheated on me at that birthday party. One of his best friends was the first person to text me and tell me. They wouldn’t tell me exactly what happened because they only knew what they saw, but they were pretty sure he had cheated. He on the other hand refused to admit what he did because he had been drinking. He just kept telling me that he did something bad, but didn’t want to tell me what he thought had happened because of being drunk. He dragged me a long for about a week with this excuse, and I’m pretty sure there were a lot of “I’m sorry’s” and pleading. He sweet talked me for about a week, if I remember correctly, before I finally ended it. It wasn’t until several months later, after I was in a new relationship (he knew this)  that he tried manipulating me to get me back. I don’t remember much of it, but I do remember the emotional manipulation and he even had the audacity to kiss me like that was going to win me back. 

Unfortunately this is not where our story ends, but that is not a story I want to get into. So, lets go back to that first dream I mentioned at the beginning that I had about a year ago. That dream bothered me so deep down to the core, I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t figure out why after all this time that I suddenly had a dream about him, especially the dream I had. After about a week or so of mulling over this dream, I decided I was going to reach out to him. I messaged him on Facebook (we’re not friends) and said something along the lines of “hi. I know this is random, but I had a very vivid dream with you in it, so I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I hope you’re well.” His response... “I’m sorry who are you?” I very much expected a response like this based off who he was at the age of 18/19, but WHO THE FUCK AM I!!! I am the girl you emotionally manipulated. Took full advantage of because I was an easy target. 

I am the girl you RAPED!! I’ve never actually said it, and actually for a while I refused to say I was raped because I said yes, but I said yes out of fear of saying no. I said yes because I knew that’s what he wanted to hear. I wish I could forget him as easily as he has, or pretends to have forgotten me. 

[ruthellisneda]

{#TransparentTuesday} The Truth About “Motivation”

As a personal trainer, I never liked the whole concept of “motivation.”

I felt like people completely misunderstood and abused it, saying things like “I just have no motivation” as a way of shaming or excusing their behavior, and asking “how do you get motivated?” as if motivation was some magic potion I drank every morning in order to take action on my goals.

When it came to exercise back then, I never had to “get motivated” because:

Lifting weights was in perfect alignment with my values. It was, in fact, one of my highest priorities. I followed a program, I wanted to get stronger, and I arranged my life so that the space, time, and energy for lifting was always there.

I fucking loved it. A person doesn’t need to “get motivated” to do things they love, and I loved lifting weights. (This is a big reason I suggest only doing exercise you love, instead of trying to do the kind you think you “should” do.)

That was back when I had a private gym at my disposal of course. I was there all day training clients, and I was surrounded by other fitness nerds who pushed me to get better and better. I didn’t need motivation because my entire life was centered around fitness.

Nowadays it’s different. None of those things are true anymore, and I broke my workout habit over a year ago. The momentum is long gone, and to be honest sometimes I struggle on my afternoon break to choose between “go to the gym” and “lay in bed browsing buzzfeed.”

Lately when I feel unproductive and unfit, I’ve been wondering about this:

how DO people get motivated? Is there something I should be doing to rally harder?

Then I had a major realization about motivation… thanks to the magic of Xanax.

First of all, yes I recently started taking Xanax during a certain part of my menstrual cycle to help me feel human, and no, there’s nothing shameful about that.

Second of all, I’ve been taking low doses, so I don’t really notice anything other than feeling a little more “me” again about half an hour after taking it.

The interesting thing is that on the days I experience crushing anxiety and depersonalization/derealization, I often feel physical symptoms too– typically intense fatigue, extreme emotional sensitivity, and a full-body sensation I can only identify as a “desperate desire to crawl into a hole and never come out.”

This is why the days I take Xanax also happen to be the days when I feel the most unproductive and sluggish, and most wish I could “get motivated.” These are the days I am incapable of working, exercising, leaving the apartment, or sometimes even getting out of bed. These days suck.

I was feeling all of those things on a particularly bad day recently, and realized around 10am that this day was going to be a wash. I had resigned myself to skipping everything and just laying in bed all day when I took the Xanax, and decided to just answer a few emails before I gave up entirely.

Then something funny happened. I finished the emails, and moved on to edit and record a webinar, get some challenging schoolwork done, make myself a nice lunch, hit the gym, and then write out the syllabus and packet notes for an upcoming workshop.

By the end of the day, I was completely baffled– WTF had happened?? How had I been able to get all that done?? Why hadn’t I crawled back into bed to lay in the fetal position for 8 hours?

I was explaining the day to my partner that night, about how “the darkness had fallen” but somehow I stayed focused and motivated and had a really productive day anyway. I mentioned that I had taken Xanax, but quickly followed it up with “but Xanax doesn’t motivate you or focus you or anything– it’s not like taking Adderall!”

His response was: “Xanax might not be inherently motivating, but the kind of anxiety you experience is inherently debilitating.”

And there it was.

It’s not that I had been extra motivated that day– it’s just that I had removed a (debilitating) block to my energy and focus. In my unblocked state, I am naturally “motivated” to do work I care about, exercise, and take good care of myself. The Xanax has simply returned a bit of that unblocked state to me.

I thought about this a lot over the next few days, and realized that this is the key to motivation.

Motivation isn’t about adding the magic potion, it’s about removing the burdens and blocks to natural energy flow.

For me that day, the burden getting in my way was a hormonally-created, debilitating sense that everything was broken and bad and fake and scary. With that kind of garbage weighing down on me, even simple tasks were so burdensome and painful that I could hardly imagine handling anything more challenging than getting out of bed.

But when that block was removed, I was able to calmly (even enjoyably!) accomplish everything on my to-do list. Not with great pleasure or gusto, since I still felt pretty shitty, but with a steady sense of purpose.

Too often, we blame ourselves for “not being motivated enough” to take action on our goals, and think we need to fight against our natural state of “laziness” or “lack of willpower” in order to see any kind of success.

But what if we have it backwards?

What if your unblocked self actually naturally takes pleasure in moving the body, eating nourishing food, resting, playing, being sensual and sexual, and doing fulfilling work? What if the only reason you feel too tired or lazy to get shit done is because you’re constantly weighed down by your own (debilitating) energy blocks?

This would be like wearing a backpack filled with rocks, blaming yourself for walking so slow and being so tired all the time, and then also believing the solution was to “get motivated” to wear the backpack better.

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} The Truth About “Motivation” appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

http://ift.tt/2p6Q6jl

[johnclapperne]

{#TransparentTuesday} The Truth About “Motivation”

As a personal trainer, I never liked the whole concept of “motivation.”

I felt like people completely misunderstood and abused it, saying things like “I just have no motivation” as a way of shaming or excusing their behavior, and asking “how do you get motivated?” as if motivation was some magic potion I drank every morning in order to take action on my goals.

When it came to exercise back then, I never had to “get motivated” because:

Lifting weights was in perfect alignment with my values. It was, in fact, one of my highest priorities. I followed a program, I wanted to get stronger, and I arranged my life so that the space, time, and energy for lifting was always there.

I fucking loved it. A person doesn’t need to “get motivated” to do things they love, and I loved lifting weights. (This is a big reason I suggest only doing exercise you love, instead of trying to do the kind you think you “should” do.)

That was back when I had a private gym at my disposal of course. I was there all day training clients, and I was surrounded by other fitness nerds who pushed me to get better and better. I didn’t need motivation because my entire life was centered around fitness.

Nowadays it’s different. None of those things are true anymore, and I broke my workout habit over a year ago. The momentum is long gone, and to be honest sometimes I struggle on my afternoon break to choose between “go to the gym” and “lay in bed browsing buzzfeed.”

Lately when I feel unproductive and unfit, I’ve been wondering about this:

how DO people get motivated? Is there something I should be doing to rally harder?

Then I had a major realization about motivation… thanks to the magic of Xanax.

First of all, yes I recently started taking Xanax during a certain part of my menstrual cycle to help me feel human, and no, there’s nothing shameful about that.

Second of all, I’ve been taking low doses, so I don’t really notice anything other than feeling a little more “me” again about half an hour after taking it.

The interesting thing is that on the days I experience crushing anxiety and depersonalization/derealization, I often feel physical symptoms too– typically intense fatigue, extreme emotional sensitivity, and a full-body sensation I can only identify as a “desperate desire to crawl into a hole and never come out.”

This is why the days I take Xanax also happen to be the days when I feel the most unproductive and sluggish, and most wish I could “get motivated.” These are the days I am incapable of working, exercising, leaving the apartment, or sometimes even getting out of bed. These days suck.

I was feeling all of those things on a particularly bad day recently, and realized around 10am that this day was going to be a wash. I had resigned myself to skipping everything and just laying in bed all day when I took the Xanax, and decided to just answer a few emails before I gave up entirely.

Then something funny happened. I finished the emails, and moved on to edit and record a webinar, get some challenging schoolwork done, make myself a nice lunch, hit the gym, and then write out the syllabus and packet notes for an upcoming workshop.

By the end of the day, I was completely baffled– WTF had happened?? How had I been able to get all that done?? Why hadn’t I crawled back into bed to lay in the fetal position for 8 hours?

I was explaining the day to my partner that night, about how “the darkness had fallen” but somehow I stayed focused and motivated and had a really productive day anyway. I mentioned that I had taken Xanax, but quickly followed it up with “but Xanax doesn’t motivate you or focus you or anything– it’s not like taking Adderall!”

His response was: “Xanax might not be inherently motivating, but the kind of anxiety you experience is inherently debilitating.”

And there it was.

It’s not that I had been extra motivated that day– it’s just that I had removed a (debilitating) block to my energy and focus. In my unblocked state, I am naturally “motivated” to do work I care about, exercise, and take good care of myself. The Xanax has simply returned a bit of that unblocked state to me.

I thought about this a lot over the next few days, and realized that this is the key to motivation.

Motivation isn’t about adding the magic potion, it’s about removing the burdens and blocks to natural energy flow.

For me that day, the burden getting in my way was a hormonally-created, debilitating sense that everything was broken and bad and fake and scary. With that kind of garbage weighing down on me, even simple tasks were so burdensome and painful that I could hardly imagine handling anything more challenging than getting out of bed.

But when that block was removed, I was able to calmly (even enjoyably!) accomplish everything on my to-do list. Not with great pleasure or gusto, since I still felt pretty shitty, but with a steady sense of purpose.

Too often, we blame ourselves for “not being motivated enough” to take action on our goals, and think we need to fight against our natural state of “laziness” or “lack of willpower” in order to see any kind of success.

But what if we have it backwards?

What if your unblocked self actually naturally takes pleasure in moving the body, eating nourishing food, resting, playing, being sensual and sexual, and doing fulfilling work? What if the only reason you feel too tired or lazy to get shit done is because you’re constantly weighed down by your own (debilitating) energy blocks?

This would be like wearing a backpack filled with rocks, blaming yourself for walking so slow and being so tired all the time, and then also believing the solution was to “get motivated” to wear the backpack better.

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} The Truth About “Motivation” appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

http://ift.tt/2p6Q6jl

[albertcaldwellne]

{#TransparentTuesday} The Truth About “Motivation”

As a personal trainer, I never liked the whole concept of “motivation.”

I felt like people completely misunderstood and abused it, saying things like “I just have no motivation” as a way of shaming or excusing their behavior, and asking “how do you get motivated?” as if motivation was some magic potion I drank every morning in order to take action on my goals.

When it came to exercise back then, I never had to “get motivated” because:

Lifting weights was in perfect alignment with my values. It was, in fact, one of my highest priorities. I followed a program, I wanted to get stronger, and I arranged my life so that the space, time, and energy for lifting was always there.

I fucking loved it. A person doesn’t need to “get motivated” to do things they love, and I loved lifting weights. (This is a big reason I suggest only doing exercise you love, instead of trying to do the kind you think you “should” do.)

That was back when I had a private gym at my disposal of course. I was there all day training clients, and I was surrounded by other fitness nerds who pushed me to get better and better. I didn’t need motivation because my entire life was centered around fitness.

Nowadays it’s different. None of those things are true anymore, and I broke my workout habit over a year ago. The momentum is long gone, and to be honest sometimes I struggle on my afternoon break to choose between “go to the gym” and “lay in bed browsing buzzfeed.”

Lately when I feel unproductive and unfit, I’ve been wondering about this:

how DO people get motivated? Is there something I should be doing to rally harder?

Then I had a major realization about motivation… thanks to the magic of Xanax.

First of all, yes I recently started taking Xanax during a certain part of my menstrual cycle to help me feel human, and no, there’s nothing shameful about that.

Second of all, I’ve been taking low doses, so I don’t really notice anything other than feeling a little more “me” again about half an hour after taking it.

The interesting thing is that on the days I experience crushing anxiety and depersonalization/derealization, I often feel physical symptoms too– typically intense fatigue, extreme emotional sensitivity, and a full-body sensation I can only identify as a “desperate desire to crawl into a hole and never come out.”

This is why the days I take Xanax also happen to be the days when I feel the most unproductive and sluggish, and most wish I could “get motivated.” These are the days I am incapable of working, exercising, leaving the apartment, or sometimes even getting out of bed. These days suck.

I was feeling all of those things on a particularly bad day recently, and realized around 10am that this day was going to be a wash. I had resigned myself to skipping everything and just laying in bed all day when I took the Xanax, and decided to just answer a few emails before I gave up entirely.

Then something funny happened. I finished the emails, and moved on to edit and record a webinar, get some challenging schoolwork done, make myself a nice lunch, hit the gym, and then write out the syllabus and packet notes for an upcoming workshop.

By the end of the day, I was completely baffled– WTF had happened?? How had I been able to get all that done?? Why hadn’t I crawled back into bed to lay in the fetal position for 8 hours?

I was explaining the day to my partner that night, about how “the darkness had fallen” but somehow I stayed focused and motivated and had a really productive day anyway. I mentioned that I had taken Xanax, but quickly followed it up with “but Xanax doesn’t motivate you or focus you or anything– it’s not like taking Adderall!”

His response was: “Xanax might not be inherently motivating, but the kind of anxiety you experience is inherently debilitating.”

And there it was.

It’s not that I had been extra motivated that day– it’s just that I had removed a (debilitating) block to my energy and focus. In my unblocked state, I am naturally “motivated” to do work I care about, exercise, and take good care of myself. The Xanax has simply returned a bit of that unblocked state to me.

I thought about this a lot over the next few days, and realized that this is the key to motivation.

Motivation isn’t about adding the magic potion, it’s about removing the burdens and blocks to natural energy flow.

For me that day, the burden getting in my way was a hormonally-created, debilitating sense that everything was broken and bad and fake and scary. With that kind of garbage weighing down on me, even simple tasks were so burdensome and painful that I could hardly imagine handling anything more challenging than getting out of bed.

But when that block was removed, I was able to calmly (even enjoyably!) accomplish everything on my to-do list. Not with great pleasure or gusto, since I still felt pretty shitty, but with a steady sense of purpose.

Too often, we blame ourselves for “not being motivated enough” to take action on our goals, and think we need to fight against our natural state of “laziness” or “lack of willpower” in order to see any kind of success.

But what if we have it backwards?

What if your unblocked self actually naturally takes pleasure in moving the body, eating nourishing food, resting, playing, being sensual and sexual, and doing fulfilling work? What if the only reason you feel too tired or lazy to get shit done is because you’re constantly weighed down by your own (debilitating) energy blocks?

This would be like wearing a backpack filled with rocks, blaming yourself for walking so slow and being so tired all the time, and then also believing the solution was to “get motivated” to wear the backpack better.

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} The Truth About “Motivation” appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

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[almajonesnjna]

{#TransparentTuesday} The Truth About “Motivation”

As a personal trainer, I never liked the whole concept of “motivation.”

I felt like people completely misunderstood and abused it, saying things like “I just have no motivation” as a way of shaming or excusing their behavior, and asking “how do you get motivated?” as if motivation was some magic potion I drank every morning in order to take action on my goals.

When it came to exercise back then, I never had to “get motivated” because:

Lifting weights was in perfect alignment with my values. It was, in fact, one of my highest priorities. I followed a program, I wanted to get stronger, and I arranged my life so that the space, time, and energy for lifting was always there.

I fucking loved it. A person doesn’t need to “get motivated” to do things they love, and I loved lifting weights. (This is a big reason I suggest only doing exercise you love, instead of trying to do the kind you think you “should” do.)

That was back when I had a private gym at my disposal of course. I was there all day training clients, and I was surrounded by other fitness nerds who pushed me to get better and better. I didn’t need motivation because my entire life was centered around fitness.

Nowadays it’s different. None of those things are true anymore, and I broke my workout habit over a year ago. The momentum is long gone, and to be honest sometimes I struggle on my afternoon break to choose between “go to the gym” and “lay in bed browsing buzzfeed.”

Lately when I feel unproductive and unfit, I’ve been wondering about this:

how DO people get motivated? Is there something I should be doing to rally harder?

Then I had a major realization about motivation… thanks to the magic of Xanax.

First of all, yes I recently started taking Xanax during a certain part of my menstrual cycle to help me feel human, and no, there’s nothing shameful about that.

Second of all, I’ve been taking low doses, so I don’t really notice anything other than feeling a little more “me” again about half an hour after taking it.

The interesting thing is that on the days I experience crushing anxiety and depersonalization/derealization, I often feel physical symptoms too– typically intense fatigue, extreme emotional sensitivity, and a full-body sensation I can only identify as a “desperate desire to crawl into a hole and never come out.”

This is why the days I take Xanax also happen to be the days when I feel the most unproductive and sluggish, and most wish I could “get motivated.” These are the days I am incapable of working, exercising, leaving the apartment, or sometimes even getting out of bed. These days suck.

I was feeling all of those things on a particularly bad day recently, and realized around 10am that this day was going to be a wash. I had resigned myself to skipping everything and just laying in bed all day when I took the Xanax, and decided to just answer a few emails before I gave up entirely.

Then something funny happened. I finished the emails, and moved on to edit and record a webinar, get some challenging schoolwork done, make myself a nice lunch, hit the gym, and then write out the syllabus and packet notes for an upcoming workshop.

By the end of the day, I was completely baffled– WTF had happened?? How had I been able to get all that done?? Why hadn’t I crawled back into bed to lay in the fetal position for 8 hours?

I was explaining the day to my partner that night, about how “the darkness had fallen” but somehow I stayed focused and motivated and had a really productive day anyway. I mentioned that I had taken Xanax, but quickly followed it up with “but Xanax doesn’t motivate you or focus you or anything– it’s not like taking Adderall!”

His response was: “Xanax might not be inherently motivating, but the kind of anxiety you experience is inherently debilitating.”

And there it was.

It’s not that I had been extra motivated that day– it’s just that I had removed a (debilitating) block to my energy and focus. In my unblocked state, I am naturally “motivated” to do work I care about, exercise, and take good care of myself. The Xanax has simply returned a bit of that unblocked state to me.

I thought about this a lot over the next few days, and realized that this is the key to motivation.

Motivation isn’t about adding the magic potion, it’s about removing the burdens and blocks to natural energy flow.

For me that day, the burden getting in my way was a hormonally-created, debilitating sense that everything was broken and bad and fake and scary. With that kind of garbage weighing down on me, even simple tasks were so burdensome and painful that I could hardly imagine handling anything more challenging than getting out of bed.

But when that block was removed, I was able to calmly (even enjoyably!) accomplish everything on my to-do list. Not with great pleasure or gusto, since I still felt pretty shitty, but with a steady sense of purpose.

Too often, we blame ourselves for “not being motivated enough” to take action on our goals, and think we need to fight against our natural state of “laziness” or “lack of willpower” in order to see any kind of success.

But what if we have it backwards?

What if your unblocked self actually naturally takes pleasure in moving the body, eating nourishing food, resting, playing, being sensual and sexual, and doing fulfilling work? What if the only reason you feel too tired or lazy to get shit done is because you’re constantly weighed down by your own (debilitating) energy blocks?

This would be like wearing a backpack filled with rocks, blaming yourself for walking so slow and being so tired all the time, and then also believing the solution was to “get motivated” to wear the backpack better.

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} The Truth About “Motivation” appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

http://ift.tt/2p6Q6jl

[stargazingartist]

Okay...

so this probably won’t get a response or anything but I just really need to vent right now. At the end of this I make a few points about some shitty things guys do when you break up so if you don’t care all that much for the drama behind it you can just skip to the bottom or not read the post entirely. 

So STORYTIME KIDDOS STRAP IN CAUSE THIS IS A RIDE

Now, I have just recently exited a relationship through a mutual agreement that we don’t work. But yeah, I got dumped. We’ve been friends over a year and about two months ago we entered into this and I was truly hoping to find a serious stable relationship with him. I wanted to trust and give myself to him. But that little voice in the back of my mind that no one really listens to told something was wrong here and it just wasn’t right.

I should have listened because it started becoming very apparent we were not meant for each other at all a couple weeks ago, but I couldn’t make myself say anything. I finally had what I’d been wanting for so long, so what’s the problem right? Well, I’ll get to THAT in a minute. 

So we broke up Wednesday (It is currently Saturday, March 4th). Keep this in mind. We ended on relatively good terms and both wanted to continue the friendship. But then after we broke up I started thinking (always a dangerous thing when you’re 100% right, of course) and I was not pleased with the things I was realizing. So, I start to get upset, but I’m determined not to let it show, to be unfazed, happy. Now, I am in high school, and yes I’m aware that high school relationships are petty and over-dramatic and often times quite trivial, But that in no way invalidates the points I am about to make. Moving on, I even sat with him at lunch the next day, but more just within the group of friends we share and not really directly addressing him. Here’s where this all takes a sharp left to Pettyville, where drama and backstabbing thrive! We have a mutual friend, though she was more someone i was friendly with as opposed to my friend, we’ll call her K-mart. While we’re at it, we’ll call my ex Greasy Locks (seriously, go to the salon and get that mess cut and SHAMPOOD for God’s sake!) 

SO, I notice Greasy Locks and K-mart getting awfully friendly over where they’re at, and I, being the hormonal upset mess who was just dumped LAST NIGHT, get pretty peeved. But I don’t say anything cause I am Mature™, and he has been claiming for months and months, even before we were dating, to value me so much and truly care so much and really want to make me happy, yada yada, so I brush it off. Probably nothing but K-mart being thirsty as HELL cause she’s still hung up on her ex and is looking for ways to distract herself from that. So I get out of lunch and talk to some friends and when school ends, I walk to where my car is and, *SHOCKER*, I see them (with another friend granted but still) RIGHT where we used to stand when I’d kiss this boy bye before he gets on his bus. Hm, okay, I see. I brush it off again, and continue on my merry way hoping and PRAYING this ass isn’t doing what I think he is. I rant to some friends, go to bed, whatever, it’s cool. 

THE NEXT DAY. I get to school and my friend, bless her, tells me some interesting things, one of which being, can ya guess? Congrats, YOU FUCKING GOT IT HAVE A COOKIE FRIEND, Greasy Locks and K-mart starting dating last night! This was Friday. He dropped me and immediately jumps into this new relationship, and I. Am. PISSED. 

Okay pause, I’m gonna take this moment to point out again that high school is so stupid, the drama is so stupid, and this entire thing is a giant cliche and I’m not proud of it, but I’m about to use this to make some vital points once I get through my appallingly petty ranty part. 

At lunch, I find another group of friends to sit with because I have zero desire to put myself around Mr. Fickle Fucker (new name whoops y’all are smart you’ll figure it out) and K-mart and see how fast he moved on like a swarm of fucking locusts. But, because of course, we end up over there anyways for a brief period of time during which I do not make eye contact with either of them once. Now, here’s where I fucked it up. I texted him, I KNOW I know, whyyyy?! Well because I’m an irrational, livid, betrayed teenager and I need to say SOMETHING cause dammit that’s just fucked up. So loooong story short, I try and keep the conversation constructive to some degree but then he somehow manages to make HIMSELF the victim here (???) and I lose it a little. 

It basically was him saying how breaking up with me hurt him so much and it felt so awful, like ripping out a part of him (that’s okay buddy you had a K-mart shaped band-aid on standby) and how it’s never been that hard to break up with anyone cause he never cared so much, to which I responded, “So I’m not just one of the ‘many’ girls that liked you who you moved on to when you got tired of the last one? Cause you didn’t feel awful enough about ‘hurting me’ to pretend for even 24 hours that you didn’t already have a replacement for me.”

OKAY. So now I’m done ranting and will proceed into a roast on Scum Noodle that is also a message to any guys reading this that might recognize this behavior in themselves. Seriously, stop. 

1. Don’t dump people over Snapchat, text, or anything electronic unless you’re long distance. It’s rude, impersonal, and cowardly. If you really care about someone, you’ll have the decency and respect for them to do it to their face instead of hiding behind your phone screen.

2. When you are wrong and clearly know you’re wrong, DO NOT make excuses. Own up to it like a man and apologize without trying to explain to me WHY you did this and how I shouldn’t ACTUALLY be upset over it. It’s patronizing and incredibly disrespectful to basically tell me I’m crazy and wrong for being mad about something YOU did to betray and hurt me. 

3. If you are guilty of 1 and/or 2, do not manipulate the conversation to where you are the victim and you are in a position to make excuses as to why you are justified. We both know full well you’re not justified and it’s insulting. 

4. Actions speak louder than words. 

Don’t tell me you’re sorry, show me. Show me you actually care if you hurt me or not instead of trying to placate me with empty words that have no merit or action to back them up. 

5. Instead of immediately going after the first girl who throws herself at you when you’re fresh out of a breakup, maybe take some time to reflect on yourself and what YOU could have been doing that ultimately ended your last relationship. 

Expanding on this, moving to the next person so quickly says loud and clear you didn't give a shit about me or how you made me feel, and you are a liar. Flat out, you lie every time you say you do care or worry how I feel, and do not even try convincing me otherwise because there are no words in this world that will make me believe you.  

[cloudmonstachopper]

biiig chiimquisitor update!

With a few cameos about my warden, Cloudy (and maybe about my champion Mishka too)

Leliana says something about Briala having had a past with Celenne and Chiim is basically like DIRTY COURT GOSSIP???? TELL ME MORE shameless

When asked who to bring along, it basically went like this: I can’t NOT take Vivienne to a BALL please!! And Dorian? Oh, he’ll love it! He deserves a treat anyways, I’ve dragged him through such “dreadful” areas. And Varric! He’ll be sure to wind some fun tales from the evening.

Chiim in formal clothes was amazing. But like. Vivienne trying to wrestle them into it. Dorian dying of laughter on the couch in the background. Chiim: WHY IS THIS JUST A SEVEN FOOT LENGTH OF BLUE FABRIC. WHAT DO I DO WITH IT. IS IT TO TIE UP MY ENEMIES? Vivienne: nO INQUISITOR THAT IS YOUR SASH AND CUMBERBUND M A K E R PLS They manage to finally get Chiim into the tunic. But they weren’t having it with the pants, Chiim won the battle and got to wear thigh-high travel-worn boots with like. Kneepads. Amazing. Truly a LookTM. Chiim fashion at its finest.

Josie: Before you enter the ballroom... you EVERY WORD AND ACTION WILL BE JUDGED SO YOU’D BEST BE ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR Chiim: sooo no jumping on the furniture like a goat then, I take it? Josie: *nearly has a stroke* please don’t

Empress: We look forward to watching you dance Chiim: *internally* “we look forward to watching you dance” yeah they just wanna be assholes and see how in the wooooorld someone dances with such ‘heavy monstrosities’ on their head hAVE THEY EVEN SEEN THEIR OWN HATS y’all just racist assholes what a pile of pricks Chiim: A pleasure. If you’ll excuse me *bows gracefully and scuttles away*

Chiim: So, Yvette, any FUN STORIES ABOUT JOSIE???? *nearly bouncing up and down in excitement* Yvette: oh, there was that time when we were ten- Josie: NO Yvette: or how about that time you accidentally melted- Josie: STOP Yvette: or that time you spilt sauce all over- Josie: YveTTE Yvette: she still plays with her dolls when no one’s looking!! Josie: *covering yvette’s mouth and laughing* I DON’T KNOW WHAT SHE’S TALKING ABOUT

Apparently full white masks were used in orlesian theater for roles with no clear gender. I mean I know they’re talking about spirits. But. I’m just saying. If Chiim had an orlesian mask, it would be a full white one.

Chiim: oh look, cullen is surrounded by ladies. Ladies: would you like a drink? a dance? Cullen: No thank you, I’m not thirsty. Chiim: and he has no idea they’re flirting with him in the SLIGHTEST. I’d best go save him.

Chiim: *wandering the balconies* an awful lot of drinks and bottles scattered around on this table for an empty balcony... hrm... I SUSPECT A MEETING HAS OCCURRED HERE it later turned out that’s where gaspard hangs out so he probs met with florianne there

Chiim: these elvhen servants are literally leaving blood tracks behind I mean seriously????? even I can tell???? I thought the game was supposed to be subtle

Dorian: *reminiscing about tevinter balls* It’s lacking only a few sacrificial slaves and some blood magic! But the night IS young Chiim: *just raises eyebrow* Dorian: ooh, but you ought to dance with me before we go Chiim: *is SO OVER IT bc still reeling from WOW ORLESIAN ASSHOLES* hm Dorian: *cajoles* Chiim: okay, m a y b e Dorian: you sure you don’t want to dance with the evil magister? it’d certainly be s h o c k i n g~ Chiim: mmm tempting Dorian: if you could find me ten silk scarves I’ve got a dance that would REALLY shock them *wink wonk* Chiim: good thing I’m a rogue and every lady is wearing twenty-seven then, I’ll be back in a jiffy ;D

Chiim: psssst dorian, distract everybody in this courtyard while I climb this terrace! Dorian: that’ll need to be quite a big distraction then, to pry everyone away from the qunari inquisitor, IN dress clothes, climbing a terrace during the great ball NOT TO MENTION providing everyone with a great view of dat ass Chiim: so? Dorian: already on it dear

Leliana’s obsession with shoes is very intelligent and I love her. In other news: !!!!!! M O R R I G A N AHHHHHH

Chiim: *is impatient and jumps on a couch to reach some incriminating papers on the table* Courtiers: ooh that inquisitor, he must have some sort of... strength to make up for his BOORISH manners *loses a point of approval* Chiim: Josie’s gonna kill me

Chiim plays the politics game, does really nice. Back at the keep everyone is like !!! wow, I was really impressed!! I didn’t know you could pull that off???? Chiim: heh, yeah, Dorian and Vivienne and Leliana coached me in niceties and playacting (and Leliana in some added ShenanigansTM) Josie: AND YOU STILL JUMPED ON THE FURNITURE Chiim: *deadpan* you can take the ox outta the qunari, but you can’t take the gOAT OUTTA THE CHIIMQUISITOR *runs* Josie: *proceeds to ream chiimquisitor out for approx. 2hr*

Florianne: do you know who can be trusted? Chiim, a person who naturally trusts almost everyone and is weak to growing attached to people: *lies through their teeth* if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s to trust no one

At the ball, and Josie’s all “ohooo! You’ll be the talk of the court for months! We should take you dancing more often!” Chiim: clearly she hasn’t heard about my furniture jumping escapades yet

“Are we going to sneak around the empress’ unmentionables NOW? haha, just how drunk are you, boss?” Varric has officially adopted the Chiimquisitor #CONFIRMED

Chiim: *hears screams for help in the next room* Chiim: *busts into next room, finds harlequin assassin about to take out an elf* Chiim: *just straight up KICKS THE HARLEQUIN OUT THE WINDOW NBD* Chiim: Are you okay? Sorry bout that, my protection instincts kicked in and I just... well. I did say they *kicked* in. Heh. Heheheheh. Varric: Andraste’s bloomers but that was a bad one

Chiim: *fucks things up and talks to morrigan and feels SLIGHTLY better bc liason but also fucked up things for the elves* Dorian: *side-eyes morrigan SO HARD as he walks in WHO IS FLIRTING WITH HIS CHIIMQUISITOR N O W GDI* Dorian: so you charmed the dowager and she wants to marry you to one of her daughters. Told her you’d already left Chiim: (oh thank god) Dorian: You can thank me later. Or now. But you look lost in thought. Something on your mind? Chiim: I fucked up, Dorian. I fucked up bad and now I’m sad but I’ve made the best of a shitty situation. *hunches in on themselves, sighs* Dorian: clearly you need to be distracted. Let’s dance? Chiim: *isn’t a dancer, is so OVER dancing, and the game, and all this shit, but... maybe it’s what they need, and they’ll give it a shot... for Dorian* Chiim: *looks up and tries a smile* I thought you’d never ask.

Chiim gets back to skyhold and IMMEDIATELY mother giselle is all up in everybody’s business and like INQUISITOR CAN I HAVE A MOMENT Chiim, internally: LET ME MOURN MY FUCKUP. LET ME MOURN IT IN PEACE. Chiim: *sighs and puts on a placating smile and tone* How can I help you, revered mother? ... Josie: yes, and we’ll take care of it LATER right now give the Chiimquisitor a BREAK Chiim: bless u, josie. b l e s s y o u

Chiim immediately bonds greatly with Morrigan, mostly over talking about her son. Chiim likes her son. Morrigan is a bit cagey about him, but also likes to talk about him. She’s a proud mother.

(Fun fact: Keiran is probs also trans because Cloudy is dfab and had babbu with Morrigan which means SHENANIGANS were at play and what I’m saying here is that Keiran takes after his trans father) (Speaking of Cloudy shenanigans, he and Zevran have a daughter. She is very cute. During the pregnancy Cloudy refused to see anyone and they disappeared off the map for about 9 months. But afterwards Cloudy comes back and is like !!!!! LOOK AT THIS SMOL!!! I MADE HER!! Zevran helped I guess WOW SHE’S SO CUTE AND GREAT AND SMART) (she grows up to be an absolute terror. Daughter of the warden commander and the leader of the antivan crows, daughter of TWO rogues, one of whom doubles as an assassin? oh pranks and things going missing FOR D A Y S ON END shenanigans never stop) (I have a lot more hcs and things about Cloudy & Zevran’s child - who has a ~mysterious~ older half-brother in keiran - but this is a chiimquisitor post so we continue with the chiimquisition) (sidebar mishka and anders don’t have any kids of their own but they totally adopt like every single child, dog, and cat that comes anywhere near them, their house is super big and always crazy and it’s fantastic; there’s also a chicken. The kids named the chicken cupcake. Main suspects for the chicken’s origin is Aunt Merrill but there have been no confirmations.)

Chiim: Will his... father, be joining us as well? Morrigan: *thinks about cloudy gallivanting off with zevran for a cure to the calling* tis... most unlikely (At that point in time, Cloudy was also experiencing the feeling of the fake calling, but was pregnant with daughter, and just blamed it on the hormones. And Zevran, of course, being neither a warden nor someone who experiences the monthly upheaval that is periods let ALONE pregnancy, just takes his word for it. Sigrun acts as their cover story, telling everyone’ they’re off investigating the calling. Totally works.) (There’s a reason Cloudy’s letter to the inquisition basically read “sounds cool but not my fight have fun I’ll vaguely support from a distance”)

Josie: so. Uh. After the events at the grand ball, apparently Florianne’s trade routes got all tied up, so they sent her over for... judgement. Chiim: Are you SERIOUS??? She’s dead! Box: *flies buzz* Josie: ...and that was the time allotted for a rebuttal. There is- forgive me. *coughs* there is... an odor. Chiim: *clears throat* WHAT FRESH LEVEL OF BULLSHITTERY Chiim: anyways I guess there’s a precedence for this so let’s just send the routes back to them aND GET RID OF THAT BOX (Chiim has clearly been spending Way Too Much time in the library with Dorian if they know about this rANDOMASS PRECEDENCE)

Chiim: I’m worried about my gardening buddy, Blackwall. Josie: Oh? Why’s that? Chiim: he took me out for drinks and then told me about how a dog was killed in his childhood and he didn’t do anything about it???? and then he got weirdly quiet and just left???? like Blackwall. What. The fuck????? Josie: that is strange Chiim: he left a letter on his rockinggriffon. I’m gonna track him down. Josie: please do. I worry about him sometimes.

(side note: if blackwall ever finishes that rockinggriffon it can be a baby shower gift for Cloudy & Zevran and their new bundle of joy heh)

Cassandra: blah blah divine I don’t know what to do but I know what i SHOULD do Chiim: hold up, if neither of you are priestesses and you can be divine, why can’t I be the divine? Cassandra: Well, you’re a man, for one. Plus I think they’re afraid of you. Chiim: Cassandra. My dear. It was a joke. I’m an atheist, tal-vashoth qunari. You couldn’t PAY me enough to be the divine.

(In all honesty though Chiim would have made for a fantastic scout, like WHO decided Chiim ought to be in charge of Politics and all these Important Things???? Cassandra why are we letting u make these decisions)

Sera: Ugh, that place. Should have thrown in some bees and slammed the door. Chiim: I dunno, seems more like a job for earwigs to me. Sera: Y E S

Chiim: *hanging out on the roof* Hey, Sera, what do you think of Dorian? Sera: You’re having it off with him, you don’t need me talking. (But I do anyway ;D) Chiim: *laughs* more than one thing is having off when I’m with him, harr harr Sera: Ew, gross! *laughs and happily bumps shoulders with Chiim*

So you know how elfroot has been lore/meta confirmed for being a recreational drug? And you know how it’s confirmed that the inquisitor has a strange obsession with it? Yeah, well only those in the inner circle know how laughable it is that Chiim indulges in the stuff: the only indulging happening here is haPPY GARDENING. heh.

Chiim: *talks to solas, mentions how much they’re torn up about briala* Solas: ... what? why do I care? oooh the elf thing, yeah, I don’t think of myself as an elf so... Chiim: I try to have a moment, why do i even try, it’s SOLAS, he’s a shitbag...

Chiim: What’s your thoughts on elvhen culture? Solas: ... ask Sera, she’s got... opinions. Chiim: I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS SERA BASHING YOU RUDEASS SHITHOLE Solas: sorry. I’m just... jealous. Sorry. Chiim: damn right.

ps when Chiim was first learning to be an assassin 100% they would stealth, sneak up behind unsuspecting companions, stab them in the ankle with a butter knife and yell “I STAB U IN THE LEG AND ABSCOND” and laugh hysterically as they run away Dorian is just standing there like “did u just poke me with your fingernail??”

Vivienne wants the heart of this wyvern, and won’t tell Chiim what for... Chiim is slightly suspicious, but is gonna do it anyways. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here like THIS BETTER NOT BE AN ANDERS BETRAYAL AGAIN DOn’T YOU DO THAT TO ME VIVIENNE

Dorian: and now you’ve got an empress eating out of your hand, makes for a perfect mental image Chiim: (dorian what are you thinking??? is this a kink thing????) Dorian: all this dancing, murder, politics, almost makes me a bit homesick Chiim: so we should do that kind of thing again? Dorian: watch as you twist an entire empire around your little finger? *bedroom voice* ABSOLUTELY. Chiim: so it.... IS a kink thing??? I don’t get it, but ok. ... Chiim: wanna makeout against this dragon statue over here? Dorian: sure, I’m down Chiim: nice