#first year on earth and they IMMEDIATELY diagnosed me with autism

[anonymouscentral]

i just remembered i'm diagnosed with autism on earth

[signanothername]

I’m now convinced the reason why Dream finds out he’s autistic is because of either blue or ink

Both of which is where they assume he knows he’s autistic and just say to someone else or in a conversation with mentioning they are both autistic

I feel like blue is more likely because I hc that blue knows he’s autistic, either from diagnosis or from extensive study and self diagnosis

And it’s worse because Blue had clocked Dream as autistic really early on, either subconsciously or consciously, this is the entire reason they get along as well as they do and it’s why Dream feels better around blue not just from the whole autism sense thing but also because BLUE HAS BEEN ACCOMMODATING HIM THE WHOLE TIME

HE JUST NEVER BROUGHT IT UP BECAUSE HE THOUGHT IT WAS RUDE AND THST DREAM WAS SELF CONSCIOUS ABOUT IT

My very dear follower Tatogender, tell me how does it feel to have the biggest brain on earth?

CAUSE THATS EXACTLY WHAT I BELIEVE TOO EEEEE

Cause I completely agree! Blue does know about his own Autism! (I like to believe he’s self diagnosed after extensive research) And he almost immediately realized that Dream’s Autistic and therefore kept accommodating Dream’s needs! And he’s the one that ends up bringing the concept of Autism up, and you have zero idea how Dream experiences the relief of finally understanding himself and that he’s not alone in his Autism, but also the frustration of years of internalized ablesim and shame he felt for things he shouldn’t have felt ashamed about (the boi is gonna experience a shutdown over it)

To me, Ink doesn’t really know about his own Autism (at first) he only knows about his Adhd, but he does know that Dream’s Autistic! Ink just never brought it up cause he assumed Dream already knew about it and cause his memory doesn’t really help (but imma leave it at that here cause I have an ask in my inbox asking about Ink’s Audhd so imma ramble about it there)

BUT YES YES YESSSSS!!! DREAM FEELS SO COMFORTABLE AROUND BLUE CAUSE BLUE KEPT ACCOMMODATING HIM AAAAAH

AND YOU CAN IMAGINE THE GUILT BLUE WOULD FEEL FOR BRINGING IT UP SO LATE, BUT DREAMS LIKE SUPER THANKFUL BLUE BROUGHT IT UP AT ALL REGARDLESS CAUSE BETTER LATE THEN NEVER YKNOW???

(Dream being besties with the Swap bros will be the end of me guys they make me so soft /pos)

———

Apple twins autism post

[drawing-dinos82]

The demons compelled me to write an essay explaining why I think that Victor Frankenstein is autistic.

(Essay below the cut, or just read it on AO3)

Frankenstein through an autistic lens (2145 words) by Dragon_Shark28 Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley, Lisa Frankenstein (2024) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Henry Clerval & Victor Frankenstein & Elizabeth Lavenza, Victor Frankenstein & Frankenstein's Creature Characters: Victor Frankenstein, Frankenstein's Creature, Henry Clerval, Elizabeth Lavenza Additional Tags: Essays, Autistic Victor Frankenstein, i wrote this in the span of two days, the demons compelled me Summary: A behavioral analysis I wrote on why the character of Victor Frankenstein most likely has autism spectrum disorder (the man named Victor Frankenstein has been consuming my life and he definitely is a bit silly and most of his behavior can be explained with autism!)

Frankenstein Vs. Autism

Narcissistic, selfish, immoral. These are all words commonly used to describe Victor Frankenstein but they are also used to describe autistic people. Autism is common, much more than many people think. Most people know someone with the condition personally, a friend, family member, classmate, or figure in their life. Many people assume that they can immediately tell if someone is autistic but this is far from the truth. Autistic people do something called ‘masking’ - a trait that is prevalent across the neurodivergent family. Masking is the adoption of social practices, such as eye contact, facial expressions, and speaking when expected, to name a few. 2.2% of people in the U.S. are diagnosed, but the number is certainly much higher because of gender bias and lack of access to resources. Frankenstein by Mary Shelly is a heavily debated book in classic horror literature. Whether people are discussing how it could be an allegory for teen pregnancy or the similarities between the creature and titular character as the book progresses, chances are his neurodivergent traits will be mentioned, even if that isn’t what they are identified as. Many people use these reasons to dislike Victor since many of his behaviors are seen as odd or socially rude. Victor shows many traits of autism throughout the book, both internally and externally. 

A special interest is a longtime obsession that most autistic people have, such as Pokèmon or human anatomy/injury to name an example. Victor speaks about his childhood, “My temper was sometimes violent, and my passions vehement; but by some law in my temperature they were turned not towards childish pursuits but to an eager desire to learn, and not to learn all things indiscriminately…It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn; and whether it was the outward substance of things or the inner spirit of nature and the mysterious soul of man that occupied me, still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical, or in it highest sense, the physical secrets of the world” (Shelly 23). Some people will attempt to learn everything they can about their special interest while others are content just vibing along and collecting objects or things that relate to it. Victor falls into the former category, adoring chemistry and biology - perhaps to an unhealthy level. He longs to learn of these topics instead of playing like his peers do, causing him to not have many friends. While similar to a hyperfixation, a special interest can last months or often years. When speaking about his university days, Victor says,”From this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, in the most comprehensive sense of the term, became nearly my sole occupation. I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, which modern inquirers have written on these subjects. I attended the lectures and cultivated the acquaintance of the men of science of the university…My application was at first fluctuating and uncertain; it gained strength as I proceeded and soon became so ardent and eager that the stars often disappeared in the light of morning whilst I was yet engaged in my laboratory” (Shelly 37). Victor quite obviously loves chemistry more than anything else in the world. He goes to every lecture and class that the University of Ingolstadt hosts. 

Autistic people often have issues connecting to other people on an emotional level. After he returns home from Ingolstadt, he says, “Ernest began to weep as he said these words. “Do not,” said I, “welcome me thus; try to be more calm, that I may not be absolutely miserable the moment I enter my father’s house after so long an absence” (Shelly 48). Ernest just lost his brother whom he was very close to. He was playing with William when he ran away and was murdered and certainly blames himself for it. Victor is unable to understand the cause of his brother’s distress and is only frustrated because it causes him to become upset as well. 

Low empathy often causes people to find their own emotions and desires more important than others’. When Victor goes to visit the condemned Justine, he states, “During this conversation I had retired to a corner of the prison room, where I could conceal the horrid anguish that possessed me. Despair! Who dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such deep and bitter agony” (Shelly 74). He is extremely upset by his inner turmoil because of how his younger brother Ernest died since their servant Justine has been burdened with the blame of the crime and shall soon be put to death. He can’t relate to her struggle and pain because he doesn’t believe that it can compare to his. The knowledge that his creation killed his younger brother but he can’t tell anyone for fear of being called crazy weighs heavily on him.

Many people with autism have difficulty making friends or simply choose not to. When Victor is speaking about his childhood, he says, “It was my temper to avoid a crowd and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was indifferent, there-fore, to my school-fellows in general” (Shelly 23). Most neurotypical children easily form bonds with their peers because they understand how they’re supposed to act but neurodivergent children often have more difficulty with this process because they may act or speak in a way that repels people. Victor has no desire to form friendships with children his age because he can’t connect with them, as he says “It was my temper” (Shelly 23). His passion for science isn’t something that most children his age share.

However, when autistic people do choose to form friendships, they often connect in a very deep way, forming strong emotional bonds.Victor also mentions, “But I united myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among them. Henry Clerval was the son of a merchant of Geneva” (Shelly 23). The behavior of choosing one or two people to attach themself to is common for autistic people, since it can help them mask better. Victor chooses someone who matches his freak, albeit in a different direction. While Victor obsesses over science, Henry desires to become a name in history - a heroic figure. 

Many autistic people hyperfixation on one thing - depriving themself of self-care and anything besides their topic of focus until their obsession has run its course. When Victor talks about creating the creature, he says,”I pursued my undertaking with unremitting ardour. My cheek had grown pale with study, and my person had become emaciated with confinement…Winter, spring, and summer passed away during my labours; but I did not watch the blossom or the expanding leaves sights which before always yielded me supreme delight so deeply was I engrossed in my occupation” (Shelly 40-42). Victor sets his sights on creating a race of beings invulnerable to disease and death and he’ll be damned if that isn’t what he does. He deprives himself of health and company so he can finish his experiment, certainly without realizing the effects on his body until later.  When their brain gets bored of their fixation, people will often feel disgust or distress at their topic they so strongly fixated on such as Victor’s anger at his creation. When the creature comes to life, Victor says, “Whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form…I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart” (Shelly 43). The Creature no longer tickles his brain in a way that feels good, added by the disappointment of not executing him to the expectation he held. He expected one thing and when that expectation wasn’t met, he couldn’t fit it properly into the reality he knew. 

Autistic people often have a difficult time understanding sarcasm, even if they can wield it themself. In the first chapter of the book, Victor says, “She presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine-mine to protect, love, and cherish” (Shelly 21). While this could simply be a child’s simplistic perspective on life, many children understand levels of simple exaggeration at the age of five - the age Victor was when this occurred. Victor however, held this belief until his death, while a neurotypical person would certainly have realized the true meaning of her words by the time they reached adulthood. To many readers, the point after Victor disassembles the Creature’s half-built wife’s effect is clear - the Creature intends to kill Victor’s fiance Elizebeth on their wedding night but to Victor however, it is the opposite.Before the creature leaves after Victor kills his mate, he says,”It is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your wedding-night.”… All was again silent, but his words rang in my ears. I burned with rage to pursue the murderer of my peace and precipitate him into the ocean…And then I thought again of his words - “I will be with you on your wedding-night." That, then, was the period fixed for the fulfillment of my destiny. In that hour I should die and at once satisfy and extinguish his malice” (Shelly 158).  Victor takes what the creature says at face value - believing that the Creature plans to face him in a final showdown. This is another example of Victor taking things too literally despite the true subtext being clear - at least to a neurotypical. Despite that it makes sense for his wife to be killed as punishment for the creature’s wife dying - an eye for an eye - Victor believes he must face the creature for the final time, face his sins.

Stims are self soothing or stimulating movements that everyone performs although it’s increased in autistic and adhd people. Captain Robert Walton describes Victor, “Does him any the most trifling service, his (Victor) whole countenance is lighted up, as it were, with a beam of benevolence and sweetness that I never saw equalled. But he is generally melancholy and despairing; and sometimes he gnashes his teeth, as if impatient of the weight of woes that oppresses him” (Shelly 11). Victor’s most obvious stim is his teeth gnashing. He does this oral stim throughout the book whenever he feels a strong emotion - most commonly anger or sadness. Victor has a kind soul but an offsetting personality and most likely depression. 

Autistic people often stim when they don’t know what to do in a situation. 

Victor lurks in a corner to avoid excess stimulation when he states, “The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass the dreary boundary between life and death, felt not as I did, such deep and bitter agony. I gnashed my teeth, and ground them together, uttering a groan that came from my inmost soul” (Shelly 74). This is both an example of Victor’s low empathy and stimming. He doesn’t know how to deal with his internal conflict, turning subconsciously stimming to regulate himself. 

Autistic people have always existed since the beginning of the human race - or perhaps even earlier in Neanderthals or our primate relatives. Even though the label of ‘autistic’ didn’t exist in Mary Shelly’s time, that certainly doesn’t mean that people with the disorder didn’t. Throughout time, they have been called anything from changings or fae to the r slur. Most people don’t like it when someone doesn’t conform to the social standards and neurodivergent people still die for it today. It’s also important to note that neurodivergent is a wide label and doesn’t just include the identities of autism, adhd, anxiety, and depression. People who have cluster disorders such as bipolar disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, and antisocial personality disorder, people with tic disorders, and dys disorders all fall under the neurodivergent spectrum. The term simply means that your brain doesn’t function like a “normal” brain does, which means that Victor Frankenstein almost certainly was neurodivergent. Other popular speculations in the gothic literature community include narcissistic personality disorder and bipolar disorder. Autism spectrum disorder makes the most sense however, due to the multitude of symptoms that Victor presents throughout the book, autism spectrum disorder seems to be the most likely. The quotes in this are all taken from the 1831 version of the text as opposed to the 1818 version, which is more focused on the hubris of man and therefore, certainly has more evidence to support Victor Frankenstein being on the Autism spectrum. 

[redley-of-many-noodles]

I made an interesting discovery today.

(I would especially like to hear your thoughts, @analogue-system )

To start, some context.

I don’t ‘surf’ the plurality tags like I frequently do aspec and destiel tags (despite not being involved in either!), but I’ve seen some things relating to them.

Primarily, a lot of people putting “endogenic systems dni” or “non-traumagenic systems/supporters not welcome” in intro posts and the like. I’ve also seen a much lower concentration of systems that identify as endogenic, but that was from my For You page, so the algorithm’s bias may have been at play there.

From what I’d read about DID in a psychology class a few years ago, and interviews I’d seen on Azeal’s YouTube channel, I knew that severe trauma can cause DID to develop or intensify. Using that, I guessed that the meaning of ‘traumagenic’ was relating to that fact. That systems form through trauma. Everything I’d heard up to that point seemed to fit with that. But then, what did ‘endogenic’ mean?

I made another assumption.

I had seen a lot of negativity towards endogenic systems, and had heard a system talk about a Discord server they were once in, which was filled with people allegedly trying to ‘naturally’ become plural. This server was also said to immediately turn on the system after they were medically diagnosed.

My brain connected that dot to ‘endogenic,’ and the fact that it was somehow distinct from ‘traumagenic.’ I was satisfied with that conclusion, too.

But then my Author Brain got to Author Brainstorming. I wanted to make sure I knew the exact definitions just in case that one story idea ever came to fruition. So I searched the internet for,

“traumagenic vs endogenic.”

And I found an interesting article.

One from a system that’s been a part of the community for quite a while now.

The system that coined the terms ‘endogenic’ and ‘traumagenic.’

I’d like you all to read it.

Seriously, read it. Read it carefully. Don’t just toss the entire thing out the window as soon as the author uses one word you don’t like.

Read. It. All.

And think about it.

There’s not much I can say that the article didn’t nail right on the head — great job to the Lunastus Collective on that! — so I’ll just ask you the tried and true questions you’ve probably seen a dozen times before.

If you don’t like [x], why?

If you hate endogenic systems, or think they aren’t actually plural, why? What’s your reasoning? How much actual evidence is there to back it up? How much of your argument, when you take a close look at it, is just bias?

Same thing to those who feel similarly towards traumagenic systems. Why?

Assuming endogenic systems to be “fakers” who were impersonating a disorder to mock those suffering from it or to get attention came naturally to me. I hadn’t really seen the term ‘endogenic’ or its meaning discussed at all, and it made sense — just like plenty of people have faked Tourette’s and autism for TikTok views, it made sense that people would fake DID too.

And don’t get me wrong, for every disorder that’s been featured in the news or a movie there’s a crowd of people who will pretend to have it for attention. I have no doubt there have been people pretending to have DID under the endogenic label, but the same is likely true of traumagenic.

I’m not plural. I’m not an authority on plurality. But the Lunastus Collective is the first actual authority on the subject I’ve seen discuss endogenic systems in any other light than “go fuck yourself and die.”

Even if I’m being woefully misled and somehow stumbled onto misinformation from the most nefarious, diabolical liar to have ever graced the Earth, I feel like that’s a problem. That people respond to a word with that much hostility.

It’s an attitude that reminds me of aphobes and terfs in how dismissive and disrespectful it is.

So, if you’ve read this far and have been genuinely giving thought to the matter, genuinely trying to look at this from all sides — please, talk to me. Share your thoughts. If you have sources of your own to share, please link them in the comments or reblogs or anything.

I don’t want this to be a post centered around hate and conflict. So please, approach with grace, not to have a fight, but to have a discussion. Even if you do so grudgingly.

[sydmarch]

ok this is all ancient history considering i haven’t talked to my ex in like a year bcus fuck that guy but something reminded me of this one incident and got me pissed all over again on behalf of my past self so excuse me while i go off a bit

literally he just never respected anything about any of my identities like it’s been months since i uninstalled tinder but seeing his profile back then got me SO fucking annoyed that his cishet ass has the gall to put “lgbtq” as one of his primary interests when he deadnamed me regularly for MONTHS after i told him what i wanted to be called. & i was totally all like oh well he’s forgetful & it takes getting used to and we don’t see each other irl often bcus of the pandemic so i get it, until he was showing me something in our thread of texts on his phone & i saw that he after MONTHS he had never updated my name so i was like wtf!? you never edited that? we text every day you look at this shit all the time no wonder you can’t fucking remember. & he was like oh you want me to change it? like YES i want you to change it you fucking stupid brain dead moron are you joking?? not too long after that i had a dream where he called me my deadname & i knocked him to the ground and started kicking the shit out of him while yelling that’s not my name you’re so fucking stupid. why did i not just dump him after having a dream like that lmfao!!! but that’s not even the worst of it man what REALLY got to me.. so it took me literal YEARS of being like “hm mayhaps you have autism based on xyz, you should do some research” but being in too much denial to face it before i finally decided to do some digging, realized everything made sense & then had like an emotional breakdown over it bcus i had internalized so much ableism. and then ages after that before i felt like i could even consider telling anyone about it bcus i was convinced no one would love me if they knew something was ‘wrong’ with me lol but eventually i decided i needed to tell him bcus we would both do harmless but annoying shit due to being nd sometimes yknow, but where i would try to be understanding bcus i knew he had a really hard time w his adhd a lot of the time he just wouldn’t take me seriously or would joke abt things i did that i’d told him i didn’t appreciate him joking abt etc so i was like well maybe if he knew then the understanding would go both ways but even tho he KNEW how much being vulnerable doesn’t come easily to me when i told him the only vibe he gave off was that he didn’t really believe me & kept trying to talk me into getting professionally diagnosed even tho i listed off a dozen reasons why i absolutely am not interested in that. but that’s not even the part that pissed me off more than anything!!! bcus a few months after that we were hanging out at my place & he started telling me about the horribly annoying producer he’d had to work with the day before & said he was “autistic i guess or like definitely had something wrong w him socially” & went on to rant abt how this guy was so annoying & incompetent including lines like “i’m here to do my job, not to teach special ed” & all this shit i literally didn’t know what to say i couldn’t believe what i was hearing i just sat there quietly like hmm ok then & came on here to vagueblog abt seething with rage so all night the vibe was off & a few hours later i finally felt like i could bring it up so i was like hey, what you were saying before about the producer really wasn’t cool. & this dude just dug his own grave even deeper w an apology worse than any youtuber the first thing he says is “yeah i realized as soon as i was done talking that i messed up & i could tell you’ve been mad all night” HELLO?? ok then why didn’t you apologize immediately?? & THEN after we’ve been arguing for a bit he says “yknow i don’t even know if he has autism i just used that as a dig at him” & i’m like you used THAT as a DIG while talking to ME??? most brain dead man on earth. & that still isn’t even why we broke up i thought “maybe he’ll learn from this” lmao it took finding out he had been keeping a major secret & lying to me for A YEAR for me to finally cut him loose!! jesus christ i know i was in my depressed and suicidal era back then but why did i put up with any of this shit. anyway! glad to be rid of him

[itsblosseybitch]

It’s Never About Disney Tickets

About a year ago, I went to Disney with my brother, sister, and her boyfriend. Before we left the house, it came up that one of us didn’t have a ticket. More specifically, that person was my brother. Despite the fact that my brother is 34, he has never learned to master his finances. Like my 56-year old father, he’s notorious for borrowing money left and right, and rarely paying it back. These are things the family discusses when neither gentleman is around. From people who have, more than once, let these fiscally irresponsible men borrow their money and then bitterly complain about getting screwed. 

So, the idea was that my brother would borrow money from someone for a Disney ticket. I don’t go to Disney often, and I don’t know the exact price, but tickets are in the $150 range. That’s a lot of money to let someone borrow, regardless of how financially savvy they are. And somehow, everyone else in the room (my sister, her boyfriend, mom, and stepdad) decided that that person was going to be me. 

Why? I’m not sure. 

Knowing his track record, and the fact that he’s shown no improvement in this area, I refused. So my brother offers, with no sense of irony, to pay me back in Chick-Fil-A. Now I’ve told this portion of the story before with people completely floored by this part. Yet this is 100% in character for my brother, and this didn’t surprise me. I still said no. 

I thought I made a wise and fiscally responsible decision. But everyone else in the room didn’t seem to think so. 

Both my mom and sister brought up my savings account, which I was working hard to reach towards a certain number (and did, shortly after this incident). They brought up how I had more than enough to spare (which I did), and should just give to him. I still said no.

I finally pointed out to my sister, “He’s not good at paying people back.” And knowing that my brother was financially in the red and that my mom and sister let him borrow money recently, I asked her point-blank: “Did he pay you  back?”

After a pause, she angrily replied: “Jordan, I’m not taking you. I’m not even kidding!”

I ended up leaving the living room and going out to the car. After a few minutes, my sister emerged and said that they “handled it,” though I can’t remember if she elaborated on that or not. She then berated me for “not listening to Reason.” I mentioned how he offered to pay back $150 in Chick-Fil-A, but I don’t remember that giving her pause. Regardless, I went to Disney that day, with my bank account intact. 

A few weeks ago, I had one of those arguments with my mom and sister where a bunch of past grievances came up, and my sister brought up this incident. My mother said that it was “hurtful” that I called out my brother’s lack of fiscal responsibility in front of everyone, and she kept insisting that it was hurtful even after I pointed out that this was a fact everyone in the room at that time knew about. I’m not a Ben Shapiro fan by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s right: facts don’t care about your feelings. 

My sister was continuing to give me shit about it, when I pointed out he offered to pay me back in Chick-Fil-A. 

This time, it gave her pause. But then she angrily replied: “Well, you should have just given him the money anyway, because you had so much of it.” 

I walked away from that argument completely baffled by my mom and sister’s twisted logic. There’s no way  they thought that letting him borrow money was a genuinely good decision. Their pauses told me I had a point. So why did they keep insisting that I should have done it anyway?

I was still baffled about this last night when I was watching a YouTube video about gaslighting. I posted in the comments section, “I don’t know if this is gaslighting and don’t use that phrase lightly...” and launched into my story. 

Almost immediately, I got a reply from another user, who said:

“They probably wanted something that you giving him the money depended on. It’s not quite gaslighting, it’s more like turning butthurt and throwing insults at someone that does not give you what you want. Immature and childish, using the appearance of hurt feelings to gain control over you. A grown man should have more pride in his money. Maybe the money was for something other than a Disney ticket.”

I replied back with a simple: “Now that I think about it, it probably was.” 

The more I’ve thought about it today, the more I’m almost certain it was. 

On its face, this situation makes absolutely no sense. Even if we went with the narrative that my mom and my sister are the dumbest people to have ever lived on Earth (which they aren’t), their reactions to this situation still  make no sense.

But if you add the possibility that the money wasn’t  for a Disney ticket, then things start adding up.

As I’ve already established, my brother was financially in the red at this point. More than usual. I knew he was on some sort of plan to borrow money from my mom and stepdad, and to pay them back. As far as I know, this plan had mixed success. I also knew my sister let him borrow money. 

I sat around at dinner conversations where all three of them complained that he hadn’t paid them back. Surprise, surprise. 

I remember a few years ago, when my dad had an explosive breakup with his ex-fiancee, how he moved in with my eldest sister (not the one already mentioned) and her then-husband and daughter. My eldest sister was letting him borrow so much money, that she was borrowing from my mom and stepdad to let him borrow money. Robbing Peter to pay Paul. After a point, my mom and stepdad put a stop to it, and my eldest sister had to tell my dad that she could no longer let him borrow money. My eldest sister at one point complained about how our father reveled in “how good it felt to buy stuff again” and how she just nodded along, obviously full of suppressed resentment. To my understanding, my mom and stepdad gave her this money, knowing what the situation was. I guess that’s just what family is for. When I was with my siblings, I made the radical suggestion that we shouldn’t let our father borrow money from us. I can’t remember if this was explicitly stated, but the attitude towards my suggestion was that it was heartless. It hasn’t happened (yet), but I’ve had my “no speech” rehearsed for when my dad asks for me to lend him money since this time period (7-8 years). 

Now that I look back, there was no moment where we all went around the room and decided who was going to give my brother money. The idea that that the person was going to be me was more implied, almost as if it was decided beforehand.

Call it what you will. Conspiracy, intervention, or collusion. My immediate family also has a history of coordinated group effort, usually spearheaded by one or both of my sisters and my mom being the accomplice. 

Almost exactly ten years ago, I was the center of one of these group efforts. In a sleazy condo rented out by my dad’s adoptive mother (now deceased), both of my sisters and my now former brother-in-law told me that we wouldn’t leave the condo unless I told them everything I did with my on-and-off boyfriend at the time. This was the summer, and one of our “off” periods, and I was reeling from what would be the first of many of our micro-breakups. Even though I was 13 at the time, we had unprotected oral sex. It was irresponsible, and I was too young to be doing that, but thankfully I got no STDs from it. I should add that this was consensual. I felt horrible about being forced to give very intimate details about what I did with a boy I was crazy about at the time and still thinking about despite our “off” period. 

I begged them not to tell my mom, which they said they wouldn’t. Not only did they tell her, but they told her before  that night in the condo. They already knew everything from the detailed journals I kept. I don’t remember exactly how I found this out, but it was months later in the car with the sister I’ve mentioned most frequently, and by that point my then-boyfriend and I were back to business as usual. When I brought up that they forced me to tell them really private stuff, my sister said “we didn’t force it out of you.” I’m pretty sure I pointed out the part where our eldest sister said “We’re not leaving unless you tell us what you did.” I don’t remember my other sister directly or indirectly responding to that. 

I think there’s two types of naivety. There’s personal naivety, when you’re not good at reading another person’s character. And then there’s social naivety, when you’re not good at reading a situation for what it is. I think I’m good at judging a person’s character, but I’m not always great at reading a situation. My emotional intelligence scores seem to think so, as well. The EQ tests I took measure emotional intelligence in four different areas: self awareness, self management, social awareness, and relationship management. I’ve taken this test twice, over a year apart. Even though all my scores have improved, the pattern remains the same: my highest skill is self awareness, and my lowest is social awareness. Now’s a good time to mention that I have Asperger’s, and was even diagnosed as having moderate-to-severe Autism as an infant. 

I’ve spent weeks, months, sometimes years fixating on social situations that absolutely baffled me, and I’ve realized that I took most of those baffling situations at face value. I never looked at these situations with nuance until it was usually too late. Once, I was completely baffled as to why the best friend of my high school crush would try and call me at 4 AM. What kind of person calls at 4 AM?  Three weeks later, it dawned on me that those were Peak Booty Call Hours. Thinking about my social life sometimes feels like the equivalent of watching The Office, and realizing you’re Michael Scott.

Now I realize that every time someone tried to manipulate me, whether it was for sex, money, or information, my lack of social awareness was usually the thing they were preying on. Consciously or unconsciously, they were banking on me to not recognize the subtext of a situation. And if this attempt on their part was unsuccessful, it was usually because I found a minor plot hole. 

It was never about the Disney ticket, I’m sure now. I don’t know exactly what it was about, but I’m bound to find out sooner or later. I always do. The Disney ticket was just a fairy tale that was made up to convince me to do something that I wouldn’t have agreed to in a million years. 

I’m sure the writers of this fairy tale thought that I loved food so much to the point that I would risk parting with a significant amount of money just to get Chick-Fil-A. Hell, my brother probably wouldn’t have been timely on those payments, either.

 I’m sure they thought that guilt-tripping me would work, even though none of us were raised Catholic. I’m sure they thought that making me feel like I’m crazy and stupid (and saying as much) would spur me to action, but they’ve used that plot point so many times that I’ve learned to turn it on its head. 

My only question now is why they couldn’t be honest with me.

[hydesdm]

Confession...

Hey guys, I know I haven’t done anything on here much lately, but after watching @projared‘s play-through of DDLC, I had my own...epiphany, shall we say to quote Monika...and I feel like I really need to share this with you all; because the longer you hold something inside of you, the more it poisons your life, and I need to purge some of that poison out of my system.  (also spoilers, I guess)

This isn’t the point, but it’s a build-up to it, so please bear with me so I can give some backstory to all of this: I used to be suicidal .  I started having very dark and disturbing thoughts when I was around 10, and it was mostly from this one place that I used to go to for after-school programs: Colonial Sports.  Now, I don’t know how it is like there nowadays, as it’s been over 6 years since I was last there, but to me that place was Hell on Earth.  Every day there was someone..some group, who would bully me in some new way or another: name-calling, isolating, taunting, using me, framing me--pretty much the only thing that didn’t happen was getting curb-stomped or attacked with a weapon (unless you wanna count a rubber dodge-ball as a weapon, then I was at point-blank range, which I probably deserved if I remembered why).

At first, when I went to Colonial Sports, it wasn’t that bad, but only because I was naive and innocent.  It wasn’t until I started to put two-and-two together and suddenly realized what everyone was doing to me.  I would be excluded from groups, mocked at, used as the butt of jokes (it seems harmless now, but when you’re still innocent and young, they hurt), and it would just pile and pile and pile and pile till I was usually driven myself to hide behind the front desk or in a cubbyhole and sob.  It wasn’t until 4th grade that I met my best friend who still is to this day; they made it bearable and they actually treated me as a friend.  I would be excited to talk to him again and have someone to actually play with.  That was until he no longer was coming to CS anymore, then Hell returned, stronger this time.

Now, people may be confused and look at me strange when I tell them this, but it’s true:

I’m a murderer.

Deep within my psyche, my innocence was being tortured more and more with every passing day and hour.  So, deep within my mind, my survival talked to me and I had to do something; had to kill him.

I had to murder my innocence.  The very child my mother put forth so much effort and money into raising to be into this sweet, kind boy.  A child whose smile was always pure and was nice to his family.  A youth who tried his damnedest to be the child his parents wanted him to be...

I had to kill him, just to survive.  Every time I was bullied, I had to maim him a bit more and more to bolster my mental fortitude and survival and it sharpened my mind like a vorpal knife, able to pick up more and more quickly on lies and tricks and what was true and not.  At first, it worked for a while; it got me through Colonial Sports.  But then I had to leave because I was too old and that mentality didn’t go away in Jr. High.  In fact, it was only worse.

My thoughts kept thinking about ending it all, I’m not worth it, how lonely I was--I even tried to take my own filet knife to my throat, but I couldn’t.  Something else was grasping me and holding me to this world. It wasn’t until the very beginning of High School that I had conquered my suicidal thoughts.  It wasn’t also until I was about 19 that I finally gotten over Shania.  I thought I was freed.  I was even having fun in High School, learning new things, trying out a new curriculum here and there.  I even joined the Anime Club late 11th grade.

But towards the end of 12th grade, that void returned to me, as I became more and more aware of what people were talking about.  I didn’t realize it until it was too late; that it manifested--no, that void incarnated inside of me, and with a hell-bent vengeance.  Social medias, gossip, news, so many things I saw and heard that kept telling me what I was.

Before anyone asks, the answer is no: I am not suicidal anymore, my will is too strong to cave into it, but then I realized that’s not what it wants me to do...But I’ll come to that.  Anyways, what I’m going through is more of a...side-effect, of when I was suicidal, and became this different form of depression.  I had helped so many people face their depression and come out of that pit and stayed by them and watched them heal.  I have been sought after from friends online for guidance or even just simple opinions on their troubles, and I would offer my honesty.  But then I realized something awful.

I kept pushing them away whenever someone offered to help me.  I was living my life as what people improperly define as a martyr nowadays; caring more about others than my own well-being.  But I didn’t care; whenever I someone asked me how they could repay me for helping them out, I always told them, “You already are: smiling.”  And it was the truth.  Just that simple, pure smile was always able to pull me out of my darkest thoughts.  But there are times when I am reminded; why I’m hated, why I’m alone, why I’m not good enough.

When I was young, it was the time when autism wasn’t well known and medical science was just beginning to learn more about the brain.  The doctors diagnosed me with autism and ADHD and told my mom that if I wasn’t taught and raised properly before the age of 3, I would be mentally retarded for the rest of my life.

I was 2 1/2 when I was diagnosed.  Yet my mom refused to give up on me.  If it wasn’t for her spending so much of her resources and my family doing their best to support me, I wouldn’t be who I am now.  But that’s not the point...

They said that I would never be able to keep a full-time job, or said that I won’t be able to support myself with enough funds for my future, or hold a family together, or surmount to anything meaningful.  But that’s not the point: what they said I couldn’t or only capable of doing wasn’t that drove me off the edge.

It was proving them right.

I suffer mental breakdowns.  Bad ones.  In fact, while I was still a cart boy, I had them happen to me twice while I was still on the clock!  One day I had it twice.  I had to actually sit down and sob silently in the back of the building where we have our inventory or during the summer I hid behind a Subway and just collapsed there to weep.  Because I am reminded of why I am hated, but not for who I am.  I’m hated for what I am.

I would never, ever, ever, hit a woman out of rage: only in self-defense.  But that doesn’t matter; because all men are abusive animals.  I don’t see women as a fleshy sack of pleasure, I see them as wonderful beings with a mind and emotions, just like me.  But that doesn’t matter; because all men are perverted pigs.  I don’t have a single racist bone in my body, and in fact when I see it, I get infuriated and defend the victim immediately.  But that doesn’t matter; because I’m white.  I don’t see Asians Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Russian, African-American, or Latinos or any other race as a kink or exotic, I see them as a chance to learn about their culture and and a friend.  But that doesn’t matter; because I’m an American.  I was placed 83 out of over 500 classmates when I graduated, and I put in so much effort to have that mind and heart.  But that doesn’t matter; because I have a mental condition.  I care so much for people who are in pain, physically or emotionally, and I wouldn’t hesitate for a second to offer a caring arm.  But that doesn’t matter; because men are lazy and apathetic.  I have emotions and feelings too, a heart that breaks for those who are hurting and  fury to those who abuse, I want to show those who are alone that they are loved by others and put those who see themselves as self-important in their place.  I have a heart that hurts and feelings, I am not afraid to cry if I could and smile for those who need one.  But that doesn’t matter; because all men don’t have feelings or care about others.  I want to feel the warmth of a girl’s embrace around me, to feel some ounce of love or meaning to someone, to be able to have that special someone that not only I can bring a smile to their face, but a they can do the same for me.  I don’t need to have a marriage that is driven by sex or money; I want a marriage that can last a lifetime, even through struggles and times of trouble, I want someone who I can be happy with for the rest of my life, even if I never have sex.  I want to have a child to call my own and share my joy with, to see them smile whenever I come home and dote over, to raise and see them flourish.  But that doesn’t matter; because all men care about is cars, money, and sex.  I don’t care what sex, gender, or sexual orientation is, as long you respect my borders, I’ll respect yours and I’ll see you as who you are: a friend.  But that doesn’t matter; because I’m a heterosexual.

All of those, and then some...they come falling onto me like a rock slide whenever I screw up.  Burying me deeper and deeper under their screams and hate and even borderline illogical reasons.  But that doesn’t matter; because I have no voice anymore once I’m buried.   And even if I did, I’m wrong anyways, because I’m ‘x.’  That’s when I realized why he doesn’t want to kill me: he wants me to give into his wrath and become that monster that I fear the most.  Whenever someone asks me what my biggest fear is and says to be honest, I answer, with 120% honesty, “I am...”  Because once a person’s mind snaps, there’s no telling what they’re capable of.  I know what I’m capable of, it’s just a matter of how far it’ll go and who will it destroy.

Now that you know some backstory, its time to go full circle.

While I was watching Jared’s videos of his Doki Doki Literature Club play-through, I was having many laughs watching his expressions and reactions.

Until that moment when Sayori opened up to him.  I won’t lie, I had the exact same reaction, down to even the timing, that Jared had, and I knew immediately where is thoughts went.  I was in the same mindset he was in.  Because we both could relate to her right away, because we both were in that same exact pit.  It didn’t matter that she was just some computer game character; there was real motions behind that character.  What was a fun, happy and silly time became what may have left like reality to him.  To me, it was reality.  And I can’t tell you, the unison of thoughts and words that I had with Jared to what the player’s character was saying to this broken girl.  It didn’t matter she wasn’t real to some people.  She was real to me, and she was even to the game, real.  I wanted to help so bad, but when it came to that decision Jared had to make...Well, just long story short, after that I was on the same boat as Jared the whole rest of the ride.  The realization that each of those four girls had their own form of depression and how destructive it was becoming to them.  I wanted to help them all, and I don’t wanna speak for Jared but just by his voice alone, it felt like he did too.  But I felt the same hopelessness he did when the game reminded us that we couldn’t; and that’s one of the worst feelings I can ever feel in my heart.

I honestly didn’t want to continue after when Sayori hanged herself (uh...spoilers, I guess...), because of how much it hurt, how that hit home like a warhead.  But, I knew if I did, I would be a coward.  So instead, I found courage.

It was...odd, in a sense.  As he was playing the rest of the game, it felt like I going through memory lane of not just my own depression, but of all of those around me who did and how similar they were to them.  I had friends who were cutters, binge-eaters, suicidal, self-harming...so many types, and I have been able to help them, but time away from that has dulled my wisdom.  Going through this highway wasn’t depressing but, rather...encouraging.  I was able to see myself and how far I had come from that abysmal pit, even though I’m in this new one, I’m still climbing my way out more and more.  I had to watch the rest of it, not for entertainment purposes, but for healing.

I caught on very quickly on what was going on the moment I saw Monika’s second poem, how close it was to relating to computers.  But then after I heard Sayori saying “Monika was right in saying I...”  I knew right away what was up.  I loathed her...to the point of even calling her a wench.  That was until the finale...

I wanted to hate myself for calling her a wench because then after that one-on-one with Monika, I realized why; how alone she was and n knowing that she and you were the only “real” people there.  I was ashamed of calling her that...When she admitted that she didn’t really delete the other girls because she didn’t have the heart to and all...to me, she redeemed herself.  And to the point when Sayori had the powers of the “club president,” Monika still intervened even after she was deleted because she realized what she really wanted: she didn’t want any harm to come to the player.  The very same thing I would’ve done in her position.  She realized that, as a computer character, that there was no joy to be found at that rate, and decided to completely shut everything down; just to save you.  How I wanted to weep...

So, Jared, if by some bizarre reason you do read this (and have the time for that matter), I wanted to say to you:

Thank you, with the utmost and heartfelt honesty.

This play-through, while emotionally heavy and hard, reminded me that this sort of thing needs more awareness.  That depression is more than just a “mental sickness” by some clinical standards.  Everyone is unique and handles their minds in their own special way.  I know for me, when I get frustrated at myself (which I do more often than at others), I don’t need someone to try to comfort me; I need time alone to mentally vent.  When I’m ready to talk, I’ll talk.  That’s my own thing, I don’t know about you, or anyone else for that matter without them opening up.  But I digress, because what your videos of DDLC really brought upon me, was the courage to open up about my own issues, to come clean.  I was able to share my own emotions with someone, who had been through the same pain, and wanted to reach out as well.  For an experience that, well, honestly I probably would never be able to find anywhere else and remind myself of who I am and where I came from...and that I still can make a difference in someone’s life.

Thank you

                     Ian Krisher

[dreamytfw]

This might be a bad idea, but fuck it.

Castiel is not autistic. I know this is going to ruffle a lot of feathers (heh puns), but he’s not. I’ve been around people with autism my entire life. My mom has been teaching preschoolers with autism since I was 1. She would sometimes bring kids home for respite (kind of like an after school program with the teacher) and would sometimes bring me in for the day if I didn’t have school and day care wasn’t open. I grew up playing with children who fell on the extreme end of the spectrum (non-verbal, very stimmy, low motor function, etc) as well as kids with only mild Aspergers. I’ve had and still do have friends who fall on the spectrum. Cas does not fall on that spectrum.

My biggest argument for this is that he’s an angel and human neurology and development in no way applies to angels since they’re not human.

My second biggest argument is Cas’s display of empathy for those around him. Even the most mild forms of autism can really screw with a person’s ability to empathize with other people. This is not to say that they are horrible people (as is often implied when lack of empathy is brought up, like with sociopaths for example) or are completely incapable of feeling some form of empathy. It’s just that having autism makes it that much more difficult to relate to others because the person isn’t completely able to see where others are coming from emotionally. And one of Castiel’s defining characteristics is his massive capability for empathy.

A popular argument I see is that Cas doesn’t follow social customs and that he doesn’t understand personal space. For the first one, you have to remember that angels weren’t on Earth for over 2000 years (with very few exceptions like Metatron and Gabriel). Angels suddenly arriving on Earth again and expecting them to immediately learn the intricacies of American culture and social norms would be like taking a group of Ukranians and dumping them in rural Peru and expecting them to fit right in. Obviously some will adapt better than others, but it takes some time to get used to other cultures. As for personal space... anyone ever notice it’s just Dean Cas does the whole personal space thing with? He doesn’t do it with Sam, Bobby, Crowley, or even other angels. Just Dean.

Yes, Cas is weird and not very social and can be irritable, but that does not mean he’s autistic. I mean, hell, I’m weird, asocial, and irritable, but I’m not autistic (according to 5 psychiatrists, at least 10 therapists, 2 neurologists, my mother, and all of her co-workers which includes one of the founders of PECS). There’s A LOT of co-morbidity for various mental and neurological issues for just those three characteristics including (but not limited to) lasting damage from a traumatic brain injury, schizophrenia (fun fact: autism used to be referred to as childhood schizophrenia WAY back in the day), bipolar disorder, chronic depression, anxiety disorders, and a number of personality disorders. And sometimes those three don’t mean anything is even “wrong”; sometimes people are just like that because that’s their personality and that’s okay.

And this isn’t even getting into how autism effects a person’s ability to cope with day to day tasks, the sensitivity to external stimuli, how it presents in males vs females, how socio-economic standing has an influence (lead exposure is a bitch), genetics, or how it effects those around them.

Look, if you fanon Cas as autistic, that’s okay! But please, please do not try and tell me that it can be headcanoned, is canon or he’s somehow representative of people with the disorder. Because it’s not and he’s not. If you’re looking for good fictional representation, there’s already a decent amount out there. Cheese from Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, Rain Man (although it should be noted that savantism is rarer than most people think), Julia (and possibly Elmo) from Sesame Street, Dr. Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds (for higher up on the spectrum), Stephen King’s written a few characters in his many books, and an argument can be made for Luna Lovegood (but I don’t think Rowling intended to write her as spectrum-y). Even though Big Band theory is pretty bad, Sheldon is actually really good representation. I hear the new show The Good Doctor is pretty good at representing it, but I haven’t watched it yet.

What I’m getting at is please stop trying to push diagnoses on characters who don’t have them (such as Cas) and start promoting the good representation that’s already there. Hell, maybe even write some of your own!

[goldensunflowers98]

A Haunting

Prompt: After being brutally murdered at the young age of twenty- one and stuck on Earth, Harry has been searching to find a way to heaven for almost a hundred years. One day, a family and their autistic, seventeen year old, daughter, Heaven, moves into his home. Maybe this was the Heaven he was searching for all along.

DO NOT STEAL MY IDEAS! Enjoy! x

_____________

Heaven sighs heavily, biting her nails lightly, as she enters the musty smelling, older, abandoned home that her parents had suddenly decided one day to move into on a whim. The larger scale home still held beauty after so many years and was somehow still in almost pristine condition, sitting in the middle of the woods on the far side of their little town.

One morning, Heaven’s parents went for a jog and stumbled upon the old mansion, immediately falling in love with it. Becoming practically obsessed, they found a realtor and bought the house in just a few days, not even speaking a word to Heaven until they burst into her room and told her to pack.

Heaven panicked, of course, as she hated change. When she was young, she was diagnosed with autism and her parents made sure she was always happy and comfortable. They lived in the same house, used the same tutors, drove the same car, and ate the same foods to insure that she didn’t have a tantrum. So this was a major change, but eventually, with much coaxing, they got her to pack and get in the car.

When they drove up the tree lined driveway and the Victorian era house came into view, Heaven immediately understood why her parents were so in love. It was absolutely breathtaking and something about it made her want to never leave. Maybe this change will be good.

“Heaven, don’t bite your nails, darling. Go choose your room!” Her mother calls as she places a box down in the kitchen, snapping Heaven out of her thoughts.

“Okay, mama! Okay… Okay, mama,” She clutches her small teddy bear that she’s had since she was a kid to her chest as she takes a step up the rickety stairs. The steps groan under the forgotten weight of someone walking up them as she makes her way up them slowly.

As she steps foot onto the second floor, she freezes as she hears quiet whispering coming from down the dark hallway. “Mama?” She calls quietly, clutching her teddy tighter as she takes a step towards the voices. The hairs on the back of her neck involuntarily stand up as she suddenly feels the intense feeling of being watched after she speaks.

As soon as she takes another step, the voice and the feelings halt and everything seems normal again. Hearing foot steps, Heaven looks down and sees her mother and father walking back outside to the moving truck. Turning towards the dark hallway again, Heaven’s eyebrows furrow.

“Not mama. That’s not mama,” she mumbles as she makes her way down the hall, not caring about it too much. She peers into each room, shaking her head each time she didn’t like them.

Coming to the end of the hall, Heaven begins to frown as she doesn’t find a bedroom she likes. Her eyes tear up in frustration as she lets out a tiny whimper.

As she gives up and begins to walk down the hall, the whispers begin again, louder than before. Heaven gasps, turning towards the voices and before her eyes, a door she hadn’t seen creaks open slowly.

Curiously growing in her, she wipes her tears and slowly walks towards the open door. Peeking into the room, she lets out a happy squeal as she sees the dark red walls, her favorite color. The bed was large, the bed spread a muted red from all the dust accumulated on it. In the corner, a small nook was made by the window so someone could sit and read. The ceilings were high and in the middle hung a giant chandelier that glittered and sparkled in the sunlight.

“Mine,” she states to herself mesmerized and in a trance as the whispers slowly die down.

“Yes,” a deep, raspy voice behind her croons as she feels a hand on the bottom of her spine. The touch was calming and warm, sending slight sparks up her spine as she didn’t flinch away like she normally did to touch.

“Yes,” she mimics as she walks in and the door slowly creaks shut behind her.

____________

“So, I was doing some research,” Heaven’s mother starts as they quietly eat dinner in their new dining room. Heaven’s father hums in response as he gives the love of his life all his attention after he helps Heaven cut up some of her chicken and places her a small kiss on her forehead.

“It’s quite spooky actually. Apparently, the original owners were murdered here almost a hundred years ago,” she states fascinated as she takes a bite of her carrots and peas.

“Wow! That’s interesting. How sad. What happened? Do they know?” Her father speaks as Heaven pokes her chicken with her fork, in a daze as she stares fixated at the pattern on the plate.

“They say the killer snuck in in the middle of the night and stabbed them in their beds. The son tried to find help after he had been stabbed but he only made it to the hallway where he, sadly, passed. That’s why you can see blood stains on the floorboards upstairs. They are buried in the somewhere in the woods out back, I think. There was Anne, the mom, Desmond, the dad, Gemma, the daughter, and the son was named-”

“Harry,” Heaven suddenly states, making her parents turn to her in shock.

“H-How’d you know that, sweetheart?” Her mom asks softly, her mind reeling in the scary possibilities on how her daughter, who has no way to get on the Internet, knew the name of the dead boy who once lived here.

“He wrote it. Wrote it on my bed,” Heaven states what she had found earlier. Carved on the dark wood on the bed’s headboard was a name. A little worn from the years but still visible, Harry was written in neat handwriting and, captivated, Heaven spent hours tracing the name with her fingertips.

“Oh,” her mom laughs it off lightly, relieved that their new house wasn’t haunted by its past residents. “We will get your bed up there soon, sweetheart. Sorry you have to sleep in that old thing,” she says, making Heaven frown.

“I like it, mama. I like Harry’s bed,” Heaven protests, wanting the old, soft bed that made her feel safe and calm to stay in her room.

“Heaven, a boy was killed there. I don’t want you sleeping in it,” her father says, making her eyes water.

“I want it!” She slams her fork down and just as she feels a full blown tantrum coming on, she hears the whispers.

She freezes as it feels like arms wrap around her from behind and a warm chest against her back, calming her instantly. “Don’t cry, sweet Heaven. It’s okay,” she hears the raspy, deep voice, that sounded like smooth honey, coo in her ear.

“Okay, Harry. Okay… Okay, Harry,” she mumbles as she picks up her fork and takes a bite of her chicken, completely relaxed as her parents stare at her wide eyed.

“Good girl,” she hears just as the feeling of the arms disappear and the whispers cease, but leave behind the feeling of warmth and calm.

“Heaven, w-who are you talking to?” Her mother asks, fear gripping at her heart once again. She had never seen Heaven calm down that quickly before.

“Harry say don’t cry so Heaven no cry,” Heaven mumbles as she finishes her food. “Bed time,” she states, standing and placing a kiss on her stunned parents cheeks. They were so in shock that they didn’t even protest as she make her way up the stairs to her new bedroom.

___

Harry smiles as he watches the beautiful, innocent girl twirl around in her bedroom as she dances with her teddy bear. He stands propped against the wall, transparent so she can’t see him just yet. He didn’t want to scare her, but with her reactions to him earlier he didn’t think she’d be too petrified.

When Harry first watched the family move in, he was livid. This was his house, his family’s house. He left and died here. How dare they just move in and take over his home of over a hundred years.

But, when he heard it, all his anger dissipated. “Heaven! Come inside!” He heard as a gorgeous girl walked though the door, lightly biting her fingernails with a dazed look in her eyes.

Heaven. Something he had been searching for for decades was right in front of him. On his tombstone, the words Find your way to Heaven were written, but Heaven found its way to him. This wasn’t what he expected but, to him, this was even better. His own personal Heaven.

He had studied her so much since she arrived he could now remember where each of her freckles were with his eyes closed. They dotted her rosy cheeks and nose like the stars in the night sky. Her hair was like spun gold with a slight reddish tint, shining in the light from the window, captivating him and making him feel like he was now one of the richest men. Her lips were like two, perfect, pink rose petals and he fought the urge to kiss them relentlessly. Her ocean green-blue eyes sparkled with innocence and were normally stuck in a daze as she focuses on something sparkly. Earlier, she had spent almost an hour just staring at the chandelier in the middle of the ceiling as he stared at her.

That’s when he figured something was…special about his Heaven. Listening in to her parents conversation, he quickly found out she had autism. He didn’t care. He actually fell more in adoration of the small, special girl with the gleam in her eyes.

Hearing a small shriek and a crash, Harry is knocked out of his thoughts. He panics as he sees Heaven on the floor with tears in her eyes as she clutches her ankle. Not caring any longer about transparency, he rushes over to her and appears right next to her.

His hand reaches out, laying on top of hers that clutched her ankle. She gasps lightly and the whole world seems to slow down as she turns her head and their eyes connect.

“Harry,” she whispers as he smiles gently, reaching out for her hair and tucking a strand behind her ear.

“Careful, sweetheart. Can’t have my Heaven getting hurt right after I find her.”

Hope you enjoyed! Please tell me if you want the part two!!! x -E

[therealalex12]

Character Analysis: Thoughts On & Identifying With Nepeta

A/N: I wrote this the night before finals and was very sleep deprived, so excuse any mistakes I make.  I hope you enjoy it either way!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I very much identify with Nepeta.  Not to the point of kin  (or at least to what I understand what kin is), but I identify with her a lot.  Her personality, her likes, her quadrants (to a degree), and even my headcanons on her, much of her I find in myself.

Let’s start off with one of the main connections: her disability.  Many characters in homestuck have a disability (Tavros’ paraplegism, Terezi’s blindness, Sollux’s bipolar disorder, the list goes on), but Nepeta’s stands out to me, in that IN CANON, it’s very much implied that she has autism.  Yes, Karkat does use it as a slur and insult to her (a bit more on him later), but many symptoms of autism spectrum disorder (further referred to as ASD) show up in her personality.  Her likes for shipping and roleplaying can be seen as types of special interests, and her living in a cave can be seen as seclusion and introvertedness, though she’s upbeat and perky around the ones she loves (especially Karkat and Equius), which is a trait that I share with her.  She also is shown chewing on her hat, which can be seen as a way of stimming.  This has moved onto a personal headcanon of mine and many others if it’s not yet set in stone in canon.  I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome (now lumped in with regular ASD in the DSM-5) at age 9, which isn’t too far off from Nepeta’s 13 years/6 sweeps.  This is the first thing that connects me to her, as not many people with ASD are portrayed in a more relatable way in media, and especially fandom, so seeing someone with the same diagnosis as me can be very inspiring.

Time for her personality.  First of all, her cat motif.  I’m very much a cat person, so when I saw her design and read her introduction, I was immediately infatuated with her.  She also gave me that stereotypical weaboo “KAWAII XD” feel, which brought back memories of my early days in anime fandoms.  Her love for shipping and rping also brought me back, and connected to my likes of today.  Overall, she’s adorable (the coat is too big for her, that’s so cute!), but she’s still badass.  She can easily scratch you to death with her claws and willingly went to whoop Gamzee’s ass when he killed Equius, but sadly Hussie’s hand was not in her favor (and I’m still bitter as fuck about it).  I love strong female characters, and though I no longer identify as one, it still gives me someone to look up to and aspire to be.

Now, onto her quadrants.  This is a bit more difficult to relate to.  I currently have a moirail, but it’s not exactly like Nepeta and Equius’ moirallegiance.  We both rely on each other for help (mostly with our depression), while Nepeta is the one who keeps Equius under control, and Equius is more of a caretaker for Nepeta.  However, Meowrails, the common name for Nepeta<>Equis and what I like to call them, is one of the more (if not only) stable and healthy moirallegiances in canon, and the way it’s going for me, it seems like it’s going to stay that way.  Meowrails is also said to be a universal constant, which means if there’s a Nepeta and an Equius, they WILL be moirails* .  I don’t know much about alternate universes, but I have a gut feeling that it’d be the same way for me and my moirail since we have a deep connection.   I don’t have an unrequited love like Nepeta’s for Karkat though.  I do have a crush, though it wouldn’t work since she lives halfway across the world and she doesn’t know me very well.

Finally, we reach headcanons.  Of course, most of these are personal headcanons, so a lot of stuff was inspired by myself.  I already mentioned the autism before, so I won’t go into it again, but I will go into gender and sexuality headcanons.  I know it can be tricky, placing Earth societal norms onto aliens, but it’s been done before, so I can do it too.  I’ve made a post about my LGBT headcanons for the kids and beta trolls, and I listed Nepeta as a pansexual demigirl.  Since then, my opinions have changed, and I now consider her agender instead of a demigirl (I use she/her to refer to in-canon scenarios, they/them outside of canon).  If you haven’t seen my bio, I identify as a bisexual agender person, but I’ve been recently questioning if I’m pan, but that’s besides the point.  Most people have gone with what’s essentially canon with all trolls being bisexual or pansexual, with a few exceptions like Kanaya, who’s a canonically lesbian**.  I thought Nepeta being pansexual would fit her very well, and it went with the established somewhat-canon.  For identifying as agender, this was mainly based off of my own identity, but her style choices do give off a more androgynous feel in my opinion.  If you have a different headcanon than me, that’s fine, whatever floats your boat.

This pretty much wraps up my character analysis on Nepeta and how I connect to her.  I plan on making more of these in the future, so give me a follow if you haven’t already to know when they’re posted!

*:The quote starts at 41:12

**: Under “Personality And Traits”

[savegraduation]

John Hensle, 1993-2016

It was three years ago today that my friend and fellow NYRAnian John Hensle passed away.

I first met John in 2010 when he was 16. I had finished the first draft of my libretto for The Bittersweet Generation (then called Angst). For those who haven't read my previous posts wherein I reference it, The Bittersweet Generation is a rock musical I'm writing that tells the story of a year in the life of six teens (Melanie Hayworth, Bryce Schlitter, Paul Moreno, Trina Evangelisti, Alan Isaacs, and Sarah Chiang) in the fictional Sun Belt suburb of Armando, starting in the summer of 2007 just before school begins, and ending with the alternative prom in 2008. They experience their struggles with youth rights issues. Their high school, Dulcevida High, has an assistant-principal named Mr. Pittman who lectures students about how they "must obey the rules", despite being very underhanded himself, a social conformist math teacher named Mrs. Dahlgren, and a believe-the-worst-stereotypes-about-Millennials AP Bio teacher named Mr. Orozco, among other faculty. One student is even framed for doing graffiti in the boys' restroom by Mr. Pittman as revenge for being intransigent when his teacher and assistant-principal expect him to take his hat off. It is highly recommended reading. (Oh, and the songs are great too.)

I had the libretto and lyrics, but wanted someone to set my lyrics to music. John, who was posting under the screenname Badlands1790, contacted me by PM on the NYRA Internet forum, telling me he was willing to collaborate on my rock musical. He said he played guitar and had had writer's block "for the longest time". He put up a YouTube video for our song "Students of the World, Unite!", which he later took down. "Students of the World, Unite!", the song sung at the climax of the story, is a pop-punky rocking tune that sounds something like Green Day, the Offspring, or Lit. John's melisma on such lines as "Now we form a wall that is gia-ant" is superb.

I researched John Hensle's activities with NYRA and learned that John had coauthored a booklet to help youth with students' rights issues with a number of other NYRAnians. I maintained an interest in John's posts on the NYRA board.

After a few Facebook conversations with John, I discovered John and I had many things in common. I discovered, for instance, that we were both youth rights supporters and both rocked out. We were both fascinated with drugs. We also share our dislike for the way the holidays are hyped and our deist religious views. There are some differences, though. For example, John is an INTP per the Myers-Briggs taxonomy of personality, while I'm an ENFP. And John was an avid cyclist, whereas hearing or reading the word "bxke" makes me have to pick my navel due to my logaesthesia (it feels as if a jagged piece of metal is caught in my navel).

Shortly after we met, I discussed my logaesthesia with John. He told me he had been diagnosed with Asperger's when he was 2 years old, but called for an end to all the IEP's in the eighth grade after he stopped meeting the diagnostic criteria. He had his diagnosis revoked, and said it was the only time a student with a diagnosis of an autism spectrum disorder had been undiagnosed and taken out of special ed in his school district.

Once I was discussing the cynicism that led many people to McCarthyesquely accuse youth rights supporters of being pedophiles, and commented that if a state senator or assemblyperson wants to lower her or his state's age of consent from 18 to 16, someone in the audience is sure to claim that that politician really wants to touch 7-year-olds' junk. John replied: "Yeah, I wish the general public could have intellectual debates about actually understanding articulate points, instead of reacting to a word or two and painting a negative stereotype. The world would be a lot better of a place if we could do that." That has become one of my favorite John Hensle quotes of all time!

Another time John said: "Youth is largely a relative construct, I would agree . . . but it's a matter of society seeing potential in youth. Society does not see youth as a period immediately useful to it so it marginalizes it and doesn't give young people meaningful opportunities."

When I asked John about his religion, John said: "I have come to believe in destiny and it's a great way to live life. You can't prove it either way, so you might as well believe what makes you happiest is true."

Sometimes when I created art, I'd listen to John Hensle's masterpiece with Secret Lands, "Voyager Golden Record". It is still my favorite Secret Lands song, as it makes me think of creating alien conlangs!

John hoped to meet me in person when he was coming over to the West Coast, but that never materialized. John began smoking weed and attending Buddhist meditation sessions and later Bahá'í temples in college. As his college years progressed, John became deeply into weed and later psychedelics. He once rode his car into the wilderness under the influence of drugs. He became a Shia LaBeouf fan and suggested I try a guided psychedelic experience to help me with my logaesthesia. In 2015, John was diagnosed with schizophrenia. While he had been a down-to-earth, even cynical realist when I met him -- he reminded me of Howe & Strauss' description of the Nomad archetype -- his drug-induced schizophrenia made John start to sound like what Howe & Strauss would call a Prophet instead. All this for a Millennial born in 1993. (Although, to be fair, few Millennials I know fit the dutiful authoritarian description of the Straussian generational theory.) At the end of 2015, he closed down his Facebook account. I emailed him, and he replied that there were too many people he didn't care about following him on Facebook (but that I wasn't one of said people). In May of 2016, his Facebook account was reactivated. I last spoke with John on October 22. We never met in person.

In mid-December of 2016, I was shattered when I went to John's Facebook wall and saw messages about how he had passed away. At first I was just numb -- in shock -- but then I lay down on my bed and started to feel ill. I knew John was into psychedelics, so at first I suspected it was a drug overdose, but then I read the obituary that said he "passed away on Dec. 5, 2016, in his sleep". At first I was just in shock -- stunned. Then I lay on my bed and felt really bad.

When I heard John had passed away, I thought about the things Landau & Hensle will never be able to do together, like accept music awards. I read the stale obituary, which didn't do justice to this amazing friend with an amazing and unconventional mind. I want to meet John again, but I don't know when or under what circumstances it's going to be. I want to share so many new songs with him, but I don't know whether he's hearing them as I play.

Until December of 2016, my circle of friends didn't overlap much with John's circle of friends. To the people in my life, John was just "the boy who's writing the music for James' play". And to John's Facebook friends, I was just "the boy who's writing a rock musical with John". But after John passed away, I've had his friends reach out to me.

I wrote John Hensle's mother on Facebook on January 3. For almost 5 months, she didn't even read my IM. Then, on June 2, she read my IM and friended me. I later learned that John was hit by an 18-wheeler while riding his bicycle in Terre Haute (where he’s from) in November. He had his tibia replaced with a rod, and John said, "Thank you all. I hope I didn't bum out your day too much." as he was lifted into the ambulance. On December 5, John finally passed away. The official cause of death was given as cardiac arrhythmia.

John jammed with Daniel Mutchler in the John Hensle & Daniel Mutchler Unnamed Project. He also did a number of songs on a project called Secret Lands, which are up at Soundcloud. Secret Lands released such songs as "Trap", "Ebbinghaus", "Floating" (about his transmale ex-girlfriend), and "The Final Girl Lives On", which can be read at the /secretlands directory on Soundcloud. I enjoyed all the times I spent songwriting with John and remember the dreams we share to have our music become part of the national repertoire.

I never met John in person, even though we discussed meeting up on many occasions. Our friendship was an online friendship, and yet it was much more than another online friendship. We were like soulmates. We were artistic partners. I was his brother from another mother.

After Avatar composer James Horner was killed in a plane crash, someone wrote, "I hope, you are somewhere, you would want to be after the death". This is the best wish John can receive. I, too, hope John went where he wanted to go, instead of the popularized version of the Christian Heaven where angels play harps and sit on clouds all day, doing notiing but singing songs that never run out of things to say about the glory of God and how he has saved us all from our sins.

And that song, "Students of the World, Unite!"? A few days after John passed away, I searched for it in my email box at Yahoo, and finally found a demo version of John singing the first verse, with his guitar, on video. You may email me at savegraduation@yahoo.com if you'd like a copy.

In commemoration of John today, I've been listening to his favorite artists on my iPod -- the ones I also have (Muse, Primitive Radio Gods, the Sundays, Third Eye Blind).

John has always had the view towards life and death that Patrick Henry had:"Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!" He believes life is not worth living if you can't enjoy it, which is a very youth rights attitude. It's ageists who believe in enforcing punitive laws like curfews and MIP's that punish teens "in order to protect them from their own stupidity". His views on life and death are attested to in his song Six Feet Below.

Although I'm sad my friend passed away three years ago today, I hold onto my conviction that it would have been unspeakably wrong to arrest him for smoking weed and trying hallucinogens in college, while his brain was supposedly still developing according to the "25" myth. (Technically, your brain is still developing during the college years, but it turns out this is a canard, as science has now discovered that the brain continues to develop and change all throughout a person's life. It's like saying a 50-year-old shouldn't have any legal rights because her brain is "not finished changing".) It was John's choice, and John's having the freedom to choose drugs without being arrested or jailed for it was so much more important than whether John had a capacity to make what social-conservative arbiters would judge as "good" decisions.

Here's to John Hensle, youth-rightser extraordinaire. You don't look a day over 23. (OK, maybe 5 months over 23.)

R.I.P. John Alfred Hensle, July 5, 1993 - December 5, 2016

[trishgibsontx]

Healing Elaine®’s Pediatric Energy Medicine™ updates

photo by Pia Oyarzun @madeinwater

last October 2017 when I launched PEM

(Pediatric Energy Medicine

), I posted about my desire and discussions with quantitative medicine and clinical MDs to establish wellness initiatives for children. as this is not my only area of focus, it has taken some time and marinating to expand upon. in addition, it has taken me time to meet and vet professionals best-suited to develop collaborations or partnerships with on this front. I have big dreams for energy work and wellness as it pertains to children! while the collaborations and partnerships (spanning several industries) I am most interested in take shape, and I continue to have successful (and frankly for me, these are often my most exciting cases) fertility cases, PEM

as a whole has grown — conceptually and tangibly. in short, PEM

uses dialogue, meditation, reiki and earth elements to balance a mind-body-spirit connection for children.

upon my exit from college, for a time, and then again throughout 2011 and 2012, I worked with handicapable and underserved children. some of it was straight pro-bono / volunteer work, and some of it was salaried employee work depending on the timing. early on, I was a marketing professional and I spent some of my free time with those with disabilities. later on, I worked as a volunteer alongside the resident psychologist at one organization and assisted him with curriculum development and tangible execution of such. after that, I was a salaried Habilitation Specialist and classroom teacher for adolescents and adults (all the while launching Healing Elaine®).

when I was in full swing with private one-on-one sessions for Healing Elaine®, I began attracting fertility cases right away. as I successfully worked with dozens of specific mystery cases in which medical professionals had already been on the scene for, the bridge between medical and spiritual became even clearer for me. I began to understand further, the dissonance between the sovereign energy of a hopeful parent and soon-to-be incarnate soul of their child — and how to bridge that. the same was true for the children I had worked with in the past as well as children of patients of mine or children AS patients of mine: there was/is a gap between their energy field and that of their immediate caretakers, or the person(s) whom they spend the most time with. effectively bridging that gap is paramount to all things wellness for the child.

one might refer to the above gap simply as communication. we communicate in different ways, to one another, all day long. the most important part of communication is not verbal. so, then, what are we saying to one another — to our children and vice versa — all day long? HOW are we saying things to one another, non-verbally and otherwise? energy is transferred in a multitude of ways. these ways are important to understand so that we may best manage them hence our energy/wellness and that of our children. and this is where my work comes in.

although it looks different on the surface (I probably won’t have a deeply philosophical or psychological conversation with a child, whereas it’s MUCH of what I do with an adult during a session), I am still bridging the gap for them to positively isolate their energy field while also acclimating and then bridging to the energies around them. while these are mainly trade secrets (and I have an article coming out about my work with children, so there may be a bit more info in there and before my website goes up, which is currently a redirect: www.pediatricenergymedicine.com), I will say that children are more sensitive than ever and they absorb everything around them at lightning paces. given this, it is important to connect them to 1) their own thoughts/beliefs 2) their creativity 3) ionizing and earth elements.

now more than ever, and I explain this due to simple human evolution, children are drawn to and NEED high-vibrating aka love vibrations. this can best be expressed through an emotional or non-verbal state, from one person to the next. this is why animals and children are so drawn to one another. as the earth’s energy increases and speeds up, so does the natural set point of the intrinsic mechanics of a newly made human being (child). I was initially surprised at the number of vegan (due to a natural aversion or intolerance to meat and dairy) kids I met. if we think about this in basic energetic terms, there is less density in plants and live foods. this lends itself, also, to wellness. along with food choices, I also noticed an increased interest in earth elements like water, stones and crystals. the babies and children drawn to these things aren’t on trend; they are on kinesiology. and they are going to lead the wellness movement beyond trend…

in the past year alone, the calls I receive from parents about their child and their interest in me working with their child have increased three-fold. I am not sure whether this is a result of them reading about my PEM

service that I officially launched one year ago, or whether the burgeoning wellness sector as it relates children is to thank. it is my belief that as we outgrow old ways of doing things in many fields/industries, we will open further and also rapidly, to developing wellness and mindfulness programs for our youth — starting as early as possible. meditation, and things like yoga, and creative-mind nurturing are crucial for children. energy work in general, for example reiki, is great for babies (even fertility) and children, but the right practitioner and match is CRUCIAL. it is still like the Wild Wild West out there in terms of the fact that ANYONE can call themselves an energy worker. we need to be sure that energies are actually being balanced — not incorrectly absorbed, on either side. and while the good news is that energy medicine as a concept and field does continue to grow and expand, new and vetted structures will assemble themselves so that we may not only offer but continue building a bridge for our children who will eventually go on to lead our planet in a very short time.

as always, please see my about and bio sections, as well as get a feel for my blog if you are interested in reaching out for any service. lately when I work with a child, it has been through developing a program first with their parent or caretaker for that parent or caretaker (hence working with the entire family dynamic in tandem) — and those are born from long, specialized one-on-one sessions with an individual. we may address and then explain a variety of concerns and solutions for things like autism, Asperger’s, or other diagnoses or undiagnosed dispositions. it is my desire to continue working with collaborators (brands, companies and individuals) who are invested in kids in any positive way: through positive imaging, branding and messaging, through educational reform, through wellness program implementation in schools and institutions, through unique workshops, and through simply spreading the word that children and wellness are actually synonymous with one another. now watch, as the wellness sector as it relates to children explodes in the best way.

The post Healing Elaine®’s Pediatric Energy Medicine™ updates appeared first on © The Medical Intuitive Blog by Healing Elaine®: Bridging the Gap Between Medical & Spiritual™.

from Trisha Gibson https://www.healingelaine.com/2018/11/01/pediatric-energy-medicine-by-healing-elaine-updates/