#how psychiatric medications react

[transmutationisms]

Hey, I've been delving into anti psychiatry readings but one thing always stands out to me: if there is no underlying disease behind a depressive state, for example, how does that new paradigm not end up placing the blame on the patient? I ask in good faith as I still don't have a clear answer on that regard, and would like to have better conversations about this topic that don't end when people tell me of a close relative with depression who has seemingly had a life free of traumas that could otherwise present as depression.

-materialist (marxist) anti psychiatry identifies the root 'cause' or basis of psychological experiences in the economic and material conditions of existence. depression or other forms of distress, just like other affective states, derive fundamentally from the world we live in, our political situation, the material alienation of estranged labour that underlies 'alienation' the psychological state. this doesn't mean that resolving the contradictions of capitalism (that is, workers' revolution) will magically eliminate all sources of distress, depression, or other currently pathologised experiences. however, it would certainly resolve / eliminate some distress for some people; additionally, it is the only way to overcome the capitalist paradigm that values people by their adherence to a normative standard of ability, which is what renders depressed people (for example) economically marginalised 'failed citizens'

-keeping the above in mind, i would question whether there is really such thing as a person who 'has no trauma' ie, has no material basis for alienation, depression, or distress. capitalism is an estranging system, including for the owner class (though of course this occurs in a different way to the labouring class, and i am not suggesting that the bourgeoisie are the 'victims' of capitalism or some such)

-none of the above is mutually exclusive with the role that an individual's neurobiology plays in their subjective or psychological state. like any base/superstructure phenomenon, the relationship is dialectical, with the material base generally dominating, but both acting on and being affected by superstructural phenomena. economic and material conditions lead to subjective experiences such as depressions; these experiences are also instantiated in, reacting to, and reacted upon by the physiological processes in the brain/body. however, when we say that depression (for example) is not a disease we mean that there is no biological entity---no infectious pathogen, no 'chemical imbalance', no organic lesion, no anatomical defect or physiological malfunction---that is identifiable as a single cause or correlate of depressed states, nor will there ever be; the psychiatric label is a heuristic catch-all applied to a constellation of experiences (symptoms) that are varying degrees of disagreeable to individuals (patients) as well as to medical and state authorities

-i think it's overly credulous to the psychiatric profession to assert that calling something a disease means that no one can 'blame the patient' for it. in fact i would say it would be difficult to name a disease that doctors, state authorities, and society at large does NOT blame on patients

-i also think it's overly credulous to the psychiatric profession to assert that there is a dichotomy between neurobiological diseases and things that are individual faults or failings. in fact i would posit that most subjective experiences, including of distress, are neither

[lais-a-ramos]

so, on lottie killing that guy by axing him in the head

a) first of all, it's important to highlight that many academic reports, including one from 2015 by the Institute of Psychiatry, Psychology & Neuroscience (IoPPN) from King's College London , show that people with severe mental illnesses such as schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression or personality disorder of a severity requiring intensive service contact are more likely to be victims of violence than perpetrators.

the report says that people with severe mental illnesses were "five times more likely to be victims of assault, and three times more likely to be victims of household crime and criminal damage than the control group after taking into account differences in their demographics and social circumstances".

and, in this other report by the American Psychology Asssociation in 20, it's also addressed how "when people with serious mental illness commit violent or aggressive acts, other factors besides the illness itself are often at play, says Kimberly Brown, PhD, ABPP, an associate professor of clinical psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Vanderbilt University Medical Center and host of an APA 2020 convention workshop on the topic."

same article also mentions that when people with severe mental illnesses commit acts of violence, "in many cases it is intertwined with other issues such as co-occurring substance use, adverse childhood experiences, and environmental factors."

the APA article also says that

"One of the most striking findings from the original MacArthur Violence Risk Assessment Study is an environmental one: When the team compared discharged psychiatric patients without substance use disorder with people from their same neighborhoods, their rates of violence were about the same, says Paul Appelbaum, MD, Elizabeth K. Dollard Professor of Psychiatry, Medicine, and Law at Columbia University and a site principal investigator on the MacArthur Study. In other words, when neighborhoods are unsafe, poor, and high in crime, violence is an equally likely outcome whether a person has a mental illness or not."

the last line is very interesting for analysing lottie's actions in the show and descent to violence, because the focus on the social and environmental reasons allows us to understand that the trauma of the crash and the stuff the yellowjackets went through is very significant in this turn to violence and that lottie's atrocities are not so different than the atrocities of the other girls.

this is not in any way an attempt to, say, excuse lottie's behavior or try to absolve her from her crimes, don't get me wrong.

lottie did commit atrocities, like the one in doomcoming for example, and has shown signs of impulsive behavior and violence when she's in an altered consciousness state.

HOWEVER, it's also important to get the facts straight and look for information in trusted sources so that we can know how to separate representations of schizophrenia in fiction from the realities that people who live with this mental illness face in real life.

now,

b) onto the scene itself, one thing that is very interesting is that the way courtney played her seems much more frantic and less regal now.

lottie seems way less imposing and more unsteady, perhaps even vulnerable, than in doomcoming, for example.

that is a very interesting choice in terms of both writing and acting, because it seems to indicate that now, instead of trying to use lottie's mental illness to tease some type of demonic possession like it happened in episodes 1x09 and 1x10, the focus has shifted more towards showing lottie's mental unravelling, making her reactions closer to the ones of adult lottie in the season 2 finale during the re-enactment of the hunt than to how she reacted in doomcoming and the day after.

and, as of episode 3x07, lottie also seems to be losing a bit of the influence she has on the group, because as of now she doesn't even have the trust of ppl who used to follow her -- travis and akilah are acting behind her back and cooperating with kodiak to try to find a way out, mari is back again at bullying her now that they seemingly lost their chances of rescue etc

this makes her further down the line of possible antler queen candidates, because she seems much more focused towards herself and her own mind than in the group

i personally try to take this with a grain of salt, because so far the representation of lottie's schizophrenia in yellowjackets has been pretty much a mixed bag, with as much lows as it has highs

the way that the showrunners changed her in season 2 from the super villain they teased in the season 1 finale to a tragic woman and her fruitless attempts of not breaking down again and not reaching her lowest point was definetely one of the biggest highs in terms of offering a nuanced portrayal of schizophrenia without either infantilizing lottie or painting her as a villain.

on the other hand, the way that they insist in putting lottie's illness at the centre of the "supernatural vs psychological" debate has put lottie constantly in the position of being more of a plot device that changes according to what the narrative wants to show in that debate rather than a character with feelings (we know very little, for example, on how lottie feels about the casual discriminative remarks her father used to give about her schizophrenia).

the way the big question about lottie's illness is whether or not the wilderness is real or just a product of her psychosis ends up bordering on the ableistic and sanist stereotype of accusing people with severe mental illnesses, particularly schizophrenia, of demonic possession and, therefore, invalidating their existence.

as a person who is a fan of fantasy and horror and likes the supernatural theory, but, also, has a close family member with schizophrenia, for example, it would have been much better if they went with the trope that people with mental illnesses are more sensitive to supernatural and magical influences, because, while still problematic and a stereotype, it's definetely way less accusatory and gives more room for treating people with severe mental illnesses as complex and valid human beings instead of demonizing them.

however, it seems like the showrunners and writers might be trying to show lottie slowly spiralling until she ends up catatonic like we saw her in the season post-rescue flashback rather than a mastermind villain or "puppet master" as many people accuse her of being ever since season 1, specially now that it seems like people are more and more doing things and even practicing the rituals without lottie's command -- e.g. shauna being the one to propose them to cannibalize ben in a ritual, as her first act as the new leader.

and that might be the start of the scapegoating that we see from the other yellowjackets in adult timeline, and explain adult van saying the line "we did this to her" when the adults were discussing how to deal with lottie's mental health crisis

i'm still pretty much in the "i'll believe when i see it" mode when it comes to the representation of schizophrenia in the show, but this episode opened the doors for some interesting plotlines for lottie's dynamic with the group.

we gotta wait and see if the showrunners and writers entered those doors or preferred to stick with old harmful portrayals of schizophrenia in media, though.

[dn-838]

My last post on the subject

(TW for themes of mental illness, institutional bigotry and suicide)

Alright, so I know everyone is waiting for me to post images to prove I look similar to the killer… however, I found that for the most part, I didn’t… now before anyone gets too angry, this isn’t a scam (22s TikTok still needs to be taken down please someone shut that asshat using my name for money down), nor is it trying to play Spartacus or force attention, truth is, I genuinely believed I did it, I have a history of Mental illness and had actually convinced myself I was the Adjuster. I felt genuine shock when I compared the images and realised I didn’t look like him. Despite this… I’ve still gotten all this attention, and before I leave for whatever, I’ll use this opportunity to explain some things that are true, for both those of you in the UK and out.

The NHS is a complete dumpster fire, because of institutional failures, bureaucracy and privatisation, this is widely known. What’s less known is just how bad it is, 1 in 6 people in the country have to rely on Privatised healthcare due to problems such as long wait times, with those waiting lists taking as long as literal years to pass. I for one have been treated with constant failure from their services ever since I was born, with bi-weekly antidepressants that they rarely effectively prescribe as well as very poor treatment by existing mental health services, and as of now I have frequent breakdowns and delusions. The thing is, as an autistic individual I’ve been somewhat lucky despite this, the NHS has had recorded cases in recent history of sending autistic individuals to extremely severe psychiatric wards, and for a short time during COVID they set a policy where if hospitals became full the life support of autistic people SPECIFICALLY would be cut to make more room. Just knowing these took a toll on me, now, I started to go completely off the rails last July, admittedly while I knew things were as bad as the previous things said, a thing I were never aware of before then was of the situation surrounding Gender-Affirming care, it appears it takes up to 14 years to start anything in certain parts of the country, with conversion therapy still being funded and in rare circumstances used instead. By this point in time I had just broken contact temporarily with Charlotte (the woman from my original “confession”) and had effectively had a panic attack, she helped me through a lot of personal problems and so I valued her safety and happiness more than anything and was already concerned for her on the social factor, so when this was found out within a day of her breaking, I had no idea how to react, I couldn’t tell if she knew or didn’t so should be told to try and set things up or look to private as soon as possible, if she was going to leave so I wouldn’t be able to meet her, as far as I knew by that point she was potentially going through constant body horror and never actually as happy as she seemed outside when talking, I attempted to take my own life within only a few hours of learning this, barely two days after the break in contact started, this on top of my favourite Author (Neil Gaiman) being outed as a fucking Monster and the fact it was over a miscommunication that happened the first week that I finally became convinced I can have stable relationships after years of struggling all led to me completely losing whatever little sanity I had left. She did come back however left again a month later after it became clear just how much I’d regressed (although while she did know what caused the problems in July she didn’t know about the suicide attempt or have the context to know just how badly it would have effected my health). Since then I have been meeting with therapists and went back to the medical dosages I had three years prior occasionally, but still have a lot of problems. I believe having an honest conversation with her could help but… her boundaries are set, I doubt she’s coming back (if you harass or pressure her on this I hold zero respect for you).

So, why am I here giving my sob story? Well two reasons… 1. To explain why I’ve been claiming to be the Adjuster and give context to my story, and 2…

To show that the problem isn’t purely private healthcare

Yes, Private Healthcare is a big problem, but even when eliminated major universal health institutions as they are have deeply embedded problems. This isn’t just a problem with specific Conservative policies or specifically the NHS, even far more progressive are Socialist leaning countries like Denmark and New Zealand have some of the exact same problems, the UK is currently run by a party that’s arguably much more progressive and IS more left-wing than the Democrats in the USA, but under their leadership the existing problems with private sectors, waiting times and issues around healthcare for the disabled and Trans people are getting worse then they were under an actual Conservative leadership. Fact is making sure health is universal isn’t enough, it may appear widely available but still the way they are typically run is still VERY much oligarchic. Some systems are better than others sure, but that “better” is typically very temporary. The DHSC and NHS Managers are just as big monsters as Brian Thompson was, the Finnish MSAF are downright sadistic. For anything to actually get better for everyone in terms of Healthcare, the economy and government structure as a whole needs to be fundamentally altered.

One last thing, if you doubt I’m a real human, I have a lot of old stuff on BlueSky as well as posts on here going as far back as 2022, as well as dead Reddit and Twitters. Be sure to check out the channel “Devils Advocate” on TikTok and YouTube who made a fairly interesting analysis on my “confession” as well as Renegade For Justice (assuming you aren’t here from her). Also there’s this game called “The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante” made by some Indie Russian team and it’s probably one of the greatest games ever made, considering my attention I’mma just give it some publicity.

[schizopositivity]

One thing I've learned over the years of being diagnosed with schizophrenia is how to tell if a person is safe to tell your diagnosis too. This is purely anecdotal and is just to try to limit the awkward, rude, invasive, weird or threatening reactions from people. I cannot guarantee this but it could be a start, and if any other schizophrenic person wants to add on please do!

Anyway here's how I tell when I should not tell someone I'm schizophrenic:

• they misuse words like "psychotic" "psycho" "delusional" etc.

• when they don't like someone they insult them by calling them "crazy" "insane" "deranged" etc.

• they don't believe in mental illnesses, they may think it is something that is actually spiritual/religious, it's the person's own fault, or it is only caused by societal factors

• they don't believe in prescription medication, they believe it's a scam, they think they are evil, or they think are automatically oppressive for everyone

• they react rudely to seeing people on the street talking to someone that isn't actually there like laughing at them, filming them, or calling the cops on them

Here's how I tell that I think it's safe to tell someone I am schizophrenic:

• they talk openly about mental health without looking down on mentally ill people

• they talk openly about psychiatric medication and other treatments in a no judgmental way

• they have an open mind and are willing to listen to new perspectives

• they are inclusive and willing to learn more and change their language or behavior to be more respectful

• they show care/concern/respect to people who talk to someone who isn't actually there

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

Redwood Psychatric Institute - Part 7

MASTERLIST - PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5 - PART 6

CWS: medical whump, medical gaslighting , sedative, injection, noncon drugging, forced psychiatric 'care', patient/medical malpractice

"Come on James. If you have your meds, Doctor Wilson has allowed you to have some time in the courtyard today." The blonde orderly encouraged cheerfully.

She smoothed a hand over her white scrubs, then placed the wax paper cup full of pills in front of James. She then placed a paper cup of water beside it.

James lifted his head and nodded weakly. He tipped the cup full of pills into his mouth, washing them down with the water and swallowing without a second thought.

He placed the empty cups back on the table.

"Good boy." The orderly smiled brightly, and ruffled a hand through his hair. "I'll come past your room later and take you out. Now let's run along to group therapy!"

She grabbed ahold of his wheelchair, and began to push him out of the room and down the hall, whistling a cheery tune as she went. She noticed, but didn't react, when James' head lolled about as they went.

---

That afternoon, the orderly returned to pick up her charge. Her golden locks were now swept back into a tight bun, instead of the clean ponytail she wore earlier. She wheeled him into the fenced off courtyard with the same large, white smile that had been plastered on her face in the morning.

"Courtyard tiiiime!" She all but sang, as she parked his wheelchair beneath a beautiful large oak tree. "Aren't you excited, James?"

He didn't respond. James' hospital gown clung to his thin, pale and sweaty frame. His hair was a knotted mess, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

The orderly combed a hand through his hair, trying to untangle it. "They really need to take better care of you, my darling. You're all untidy! I promise I'll have a word to the night staff when I hand over this afternoon, about proper hygiene."

She placed a hand under his chin, turning his face into the sunlight. He flinched, blinking slowly. She pulled a handkerchief out of a pocket of her scrubs and wiped away a stray trail of drool slipping from the corner of his half-open mouth.

"Oh you poor darling. It's not your fault the Doctor has you drugged up so much you can't move.. maybe I should have a little word with him about that, too, hey? You have been well behaved lately. You might be even get some visitors again soon!" She chirped.

James didn't respond. She petted his shoulder cheerfully, nodded to herself, and stood to take up her place behind his wheelchair again. Without another word, she wheeled him back inside the hospital.

---

The door to the Rec room slid open, and Mathew walked in.

He scanned the room, looking for a particular face in the crowd of patients. There were several round tables around the room, all piled high with untouched games - Jenga, Uno, dominoes. Three to four patients sat at each table. Each of the patients wore the same paper thin, blue hospital gown. They also had the same vacant stare in their bloodshot eyes, drool dipping down their chins or sweat trickling from their temples. Mathew felt a little shiver down his spine. He did not like this place. But he was here for a good reason. He didn't know where Row- No, James', parents were, if they were visiting him, if they were even alive.. but he was pretty sure that he was all James had left. He owed it to his friend to help him through the hardest time in his life. Doctor Wilson had said that Rowan had been struggling with mental illness throughout his life - and Mathew, his best friend, never noticed. He couldn't change that, but he could stand up to the task now.

His eyes landed on his friend. Sitting alone, in the corner, in a wheelchair sat James. Mathew walked over, keeping his deamenor calm and cheerful.

"Hey James, how are you?" He smiled, pulling up a chair next to his friend.

James' head was turned away from him and there was no indication that he had heard Mathew.

"Ok, uh well, I'm doing good. Life is um, uneventful. Except for when I accidentally poured coffee in my cereal yesterday. Heh, didn't taste as bad as I expected. It was stupid though, I was trying to watch a video on my phone and um and-"

Mathew stuttered as James' head slowly turned, and his friend saw his face. He looked just like the other patients - drugged up to the eyeballs. He was also as thin as a twig. Mathew's mouth stopped working as he saw his friend, a shell of the person he once knew.

"Uh, hey.. bud, how you feelin'? Can you hear me?"

James blinked slowly. He was looking right through Mathew, as though they were on different planes of existence. Mathew took a deep breath, and reminded himself of the reason he was visiting - and would continue to visit.

"The weather's nice today. Maybe they'll let me take you into the courtyard? Doctor Wilson said you've been going out there sometimes, and that it seems to cheer you up. It always feels nice to get some sunshine, doesn't it?"

One of the patients at the table beside them began mumbling something in a breathy voice. Mathew tried to ignore it and keep talking at his friend.

"Actually the other day I was in my graden trying to do just that, and I saw this beautiful flower. And I didn't know what it was called, so I Googled it, and get this, its called a -"

Mathew was once again interrupted as the patient at the next table let out a shrill scream, knocked all the games off the table, and began to slam her fists into the table, roaring hoarsely.

"Shit." Mathew gasped, jumping to his feet.

There were the sound of heaving footsteps racing through the hall, then the door to the rec room burst open and orderlies barged inside, headed straight for the unruly patient.

"Don't touch me!" She screamed as they grabbed her by the arms, wrenching her away from the table. "Help me!" She locked eyes with Mathew. "HELP! They're drugging us, please you have to help us please!" She sounded desperate.

Mathew stood frozen in shock, or fear.

The orderlies ignored her pleas, and fought against her as she tried to fight them off in the direction of the door.

"Miss, you are acting hysterical, we have been left with no choice but to sedate you! This is for your own good!" One orderly yelled over her screams.

They pinned her down on top of the next table. The patients seated around the table didn’t react as they were shoved out of the way by her flailing limbs, which one of the orderlies managed to pin in place without taking a fist to the face.

Another drew a hypodermic syringe from the pocket of his white scrubs. Mathew watched in shock as the orderly shoved the syringe straight through the muscle of her shoulder.

The patient screamed, one last time, before the sedative began to flow into her system, and she relaxed into the grip of the orderlies. Her eyes were already fluttering closed as they lifted her to her feet, and took her outside the room where a gurney happened to be waiting for them. Mathew stood and went to the doorway, where he watched as they lifted the patient onto the gurney, and began to strap her in with padded restraints. One of the orderlies saw Mathew watching, and gave him an apologetic shrug.

"Sorry for the scene man. That's why these patients here don't get many visits. They're all hysterical and convinced we're out to get them. This is just for their own good." The orderly turned back to his coworkers, and helped them wheel the now unconscious patient on the gurney deep into the bowels of the hospital.

---

PREVIOUS - NEXT

Taglist (just ask to be added!): @jazatronasmr @onthishamersterwheel @bumpthumpwhump @bloodsweatandpotato @whatiswhump @jancameforthewhump @dream-whump @ratking-whump @inkstainsonmyhands12 @halsteadshaw13 @sparrowsage @sowhumpful @caspersdelusion @everythingsscary @lumpywhump

[downundergarfield]

Support classes reaction to reader getting jealous? Like the merc is getting a lot of attention from like idfk a group of women getting gas at a gas station and reader is just like : |

Support classes react to a reader getting jealous!

It's something to think about, so keep these three men In awkward situations, I know you like to watch it.

Medic It smelled of blood and meat. This is not surprising, because you spent time with your favorite psychiatric doctor. The man was collecting someone's insides in a container. Fortunately for him, this someone will not wake up, it will not cause problems. You were sitting with him, on the lookout. The door, the existence of which you did not even know, opened with an unpleasant creak. Ludwig yelped, covering his crime with his back, you slowly approached him. "-Oh, there you are, Dr. Doe! I've been looking for you everywhere! And you, of course, were here, well, how else! You are a real doctor, a real master of your path!" This girl was making eyes at Ludwig from the very beginning. And of course she fell for his fake name. "- uh… well… Actually, I'm busy." "- of course, of course! I understand, I don't dare to distract you, I just would like to spend a little more time with you. You're leaving soon…and we would…you know… We could have done something in my office." She was already snuggling up to him and running her finger along his chest, but you intervened, speaking to her in a completely unfriendly tone "- Dr. Doe doesn't need a secretary for his job." You spoke up, looking at her angrily. Obviously, you're jealous, which only made Ludwig worry more "- Fräulein, actually, I have a girlfriend" The unpleasant personality changed dramatically in her face, obviously, she saw her plans crumble into thousands of pieces right before her eyes "- Oh, is that so? I was hoping it was just a friend of yours. Well, I think I'll go. I have urgent matters to attend to.." The girl hurries to the exit. Before leaving, she throws a tearful glance in the direction of the Medic "you broke my heart, Dr. Doe-" She waves her hair and locks the door. You can feel Ludwig exhaling all the accumulated air in his lungs. And how anger boils inside you, rising to your face. "- Gott sei Dank…" "- WHAT A SLU-" "- shh. She's gone, but that's half the tro-. " "-I really hope she doesn't look at you anymore." You interrupted him with a frustrated face. "-…Of course not! I only love you, and some girl won't change my mind. Besides, she doesn't have such a beautiful body like you." He puts his arm around your waist and then looks at the pile of organs in the container. "-Ve still need to get zese organs out unnoticed.." You nod. Yeah, he's damn right.

Sniper The brainy figure shakes while his van hurriedly drives along a deserted road. It was unbearably hot outside, so Mick was left wearing only his vest. Anything is better than his entire working form. You were steaming in just a T-shirt and shorts. On the other hand, you enjoyed each other's appearance. "- need t` refuel." "- alright!" You're moving on, to the nearest gas station. And fortunately, it appears soon. You pull into the gas station, noticing a pink mini-bus next to one of the gas pumps. Girls in swimsuits were hanging around. You're tense. "- what is it?" "- bet it's just a busload of prostitutes." You were silent for a minute, but Mick interrupted the silence by opening the door. You jumped out after him. He inserted the refueling gun and looked at his watch. It seems that no one noticed you and was not going to bother you, so you relaxed. "- I'm going to get some water."

He nodded curtly, and you walked away past the noisy girls. They smelled of a disgusting cloying perfume. Disgustingly feminine music was playing from their bus. The disgusting pink color irritated your nerves, but you didn't say anything. ----

In your hands were bottles of cold, even icy water and one ice block. There were no girls in sight, thank God, but when you approached the van, it became clear to you where they had gone. The Sniper did a good job, he didn't give them any attention, even if the girls climbed under his vest. He beat those hands painfully, but did not give an answer. "- WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??!" The girls looked at you like a flock of seagulls. "- Not every guy at the gas station is lonely man, NOW LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!!" "- you managed to snatch a gorgeous male~" One of the girls blurted out, poking you in the nose and they left, chattering something in squeaky voices. Mick exhaled, growling. You patted him on the back. " 'm sorry…" It seems he felt a lot of guilt for this situation "- it's not your fault, Mickey, they just need a rich guy who can pay them all." "- I know… but I'm sorry…anyway." You pat him on the back again, comforting him. He smiles warmly and is clearly calming down. "- thank you, sheila." "- no worries. Would you like a popsicle?"

Spy It was a hot Friday evening, even stuffy. You had a long weekend ahead of you. And of course the Spy wouldn't be the Spy if he didn't decide to spend his weekend with a glass of fine wine. You went with him, and he immediately warned you that there could be quite rich people there, who often turn up their noses so high that they don't see people under them. You said you'd be careful with him and he smiled warmly, scratching the top of your head. The Frenchman finished styling your hair while you picked out your best clothes. He praised your costume/dress and you finally came out. When you arrived at the liquor store, you admired its beauty. It was neatly built of a dark-grade of some kind of wood, the logs were hewn and beautiful patterns were neatly burned on them. When you went inside, a rather pleasant smell of wood and wine hit your nose. You glanced at the spy and he looked confident and pleased. You walked between the shelves for a long time and every time you were amazed at the number of wines that generally happen in this damn world. A note of unpleasant bitter feeling settled in your chest when a buxom lady in a black ball gown and curly hair approached your man and began to ask about something. "- you look like a person who understands this, what kind of wine can you recommend?" To your indignation, the Spy answered her, consulted her, communicated with a warm smile. You're not used to seeing him like this. Maybe he is callous and tired only in front of his colleagues? It's because they're all men in a row, isn't it? Or maybe the smell of wine just hit him in the head and that was enough for intoxication? It didn't bother you at all. When the girl left, thanking the Spy for the consultation, you pulled the sleeve of his suit. He understood everything from your displeased face. "- oh, don't do that, Mon chéri, you know that I only love you. The lady just needed advice." He gently pats you on the cheek and the feeling of his gloves on your skin more or less soothe you. "- let's not linger here." "- well, bien Mon amour, I just chose what to take~.

[atthecenterofeverything]

sorry as this is more of a vent than an ask, but everyday I get more and more depressed at the way our society conceptualizes mental health, a term I've come to hate if I'm being honest. Psychiatry has done an exceptional job in the last century and in the last two decades to position itself as a legitimate medical specialty regardless of the absolute lack of scientific rigour seen in research that's supposed to support diagnosis and approved treatments. And now society at large believes "mental illness" functions about the same as, say, diabetes, and that psychiatrists are competent professionals that can objectively diagnose people and provide effective treatment, and that institutionalization of these patients is a last resort, but a worthy one in the end, a hard path that in severe cases is the RIGHT choice and mental health professionals are generally able to identify when a patient needs that kind of treatment. Most people would be horrified to learn ECT is still a thing though, but the medical establishment will promptly sell you the lie they have enough evidence it works, and that it's not like in the past (it is, they just put you under anesthesia so you don't feel pain) and worse, that it's safe and can only cause mild and temporary memory loss. Now I know that's not true but it's not easy information to find as google will return only positive things said in clinics websites that perform it and shady research. This is extremely scary. Playing with the brain (even minor procedures, such as magnetic stimulation) pretending they know ANYTHING about what they're doing and that they can actually shock you into happiness when they know full well they cannot make a scientifically sound case for it or even present evidence the problem originates in the brain. How is this thing still allowed in most of the world? Why can they get away with it and have society on chokehold what with psychiatric vocabulary and vision circulating everywhere and everyone defining themselves in terms of a completely made up thing they think is 100% objectively true. I'm distraught, why do people react at any criticism of psychiatry as if I'm saying vaccines cause autism or that the earth is flat?

because people have a positivist and progressive view of medicine. and ect is useful method of coercion. this is not an issue singular to psychiatry though this applies to all branches of medicine (this post goes into a bit more detail). I understand your frustration but you need to accept interacting with people who disagree with you on this topic because the amount of people who agree is like insignificantly small. it also drives me insane so I wish I had better advice :(

[schizodiaries]

I had to stop taking some of my non psychiatric medication and supplements for a week as part of my surgery prep. I’m so glad I didn’t have to stop taking my antipsychotics because I don’t know how my brain would have reacted to stopping it suddenly and for that long.

I should be able to return to my normal medication regimen tomorrow after surgery. Wish me luck!

[chick-with-wifi]

Meta: Shaw doesn't need god mode

Shaw is the only main character who has never been in god mode (Root in 2x22 then periodically throughout the series, Reese in 2x22 and 4x22, Finch from 5x10 onwards) and this is because, due to her skills and style of operating, she doesn't need it.

She is extremely observant, so would receive no benefit from the Machine's updates about her surroundings. For example, she reads the room in 5x11 ("That guy has a bum leg, the one by the door still has the safety on, and she hasn't stopped shaking since she raised her gun.") with the same level of detail as the information the Machine gives out ("Sharp right leg. Left knee, ACL. Tactical blade. Glass jaw." 4x22). 

This extends to awareness of approaching threats, so she doesn't require the Machine to tell her where to aim. In 2x22 when Reese is in god mode, she shoots an approaching enemy at the same time as him and continues to help throughout the scene. In 3x01 she uses two guns to take down a group of enemies, leaving them a groaning heap on the ground, much like Root does with help from the Machine in 3x10. 

She achieves this through a mixture of quick reflexes and precise aiming, as shown through her shooting an enemy after seeing his shadow under the door in 2x16, shooting a perpetrator who is using a victim as a human shield by aiming through his jacket in 3x05 and reacting instantly when a sniper's red dot appears on Root in 3x21. 

This ability to rapidly assess her environment and move with exact timing also factors into her signature move of sneaking up on people, demonstrated when she both appears and disappears on Reese in 2x21.

Shaw is excellent at reading people and gleans a lot of information from using this skill, so does not require any additional input from the Machine. In 2x21, she makes deductions easily from Reese's body language ("Can you track him? How? You put a bug on your friend?"). In 3x05, she can tell when Gen is lying ("There is no Agent Cross.") and later knows exactly what to say to persuade Gen to give her the location of the tapes ("I'm a spy too, remember?"). In 4x11, she is able to talk the bomber out of detonating his vest.

She also demonstrates incredible strategic planning, exemplified by her escape from Samaritan in 5x08 ("It's not like I'm gonna spill a glass of water on the nightstand, stomp on your foot, throw an elbow to your chin, and stick you with that sedative.") which parallels Root's escape from the psychiatric facility in 3x03 with the Machine's help ("First the phone on your desk will ring. She'll be letting me know it's time. Then I'll punch you in the carotid artery. It'll hurt, Ronald, but it won't kill you. Then I'll take your car keys.").

Her plans involve reacting in the moment and maximizing the resources available to her, so any further instructions would be a distraction. She does this both in smaller ways, such as taking the enemy's radio in 2x16 to keep updated on their movements and using her gun cartridge as a mirror to look down the hallway in 3x05.

And in larger ways, for example in 2x16 when she needs a place to lay low and get supplies, she kidnaps a drug dealer and uses their base of operations, likely because they won't call the police on her. In 3x05, she repeatedly ignores Finch's instructions to get medical help and instead follows the trail of clues stemming from a packet of drugs to successfully track down the people who took Gen, while stealing supplies from an ambulance and giving herself a blood transfusion in the field.

In conclusion, Shaw works best when given an objective and the freedom to choose for herself how to complete it. The ISA worked like this ("My call. We had the cesium. Seemed like the best way to cover our tracks." 2x16) and she excelled at it, as evidenced by Wilson calling her his "best operator" (2x16) and Hersh saying "Shaw is one of our best. Trained her myself. You're not gonna find her until she wants to be found." (2x16). In this episode Finch also asks her to stop running "because you're much too good at it and we can't keep up."

This makes her a very valuable asset to Team Machine, which is particularly well demonstrated in 4x11 when Shaw's arrival makes their chance of survival skyrocket from single digits to over 20%.

[transmutationisms]

Why do u think so many people in like 'neurodivergent' spaces seem to simultaneously hold the belief that certain developmental disabilities or 'mental illnesses' arent 'an excuse' to be unable to do certain tasks, act certain ways, or to 'work on urself' or 'be better', in a way that completely ignores people with higher support needs that genuinely cannot do these things,just a complete lack of understanding that some people are not ever going to be able to 'mask' and that no, its not a 'privilege' to be very visibly, obviously considered developmentally defective from a young age..........but also practically worship psychiatry and pathologize every single iota of their behavior, labelling themselves with things like 'demand avoidance' without understanding the context behind these words or who gets nonconsensually labelled with these things, and what it is used to justify doing. I dont know how some people can be so ignorant of the material reality faced by people who get shoved into the 'low functioning' or 'severely mentally ill' boxes (how many autism influencer types have u ever seen bring up sheltered workshops?), but its a massive barrier to interacting in ND spaces for me and a lot of people i know. i dont understand how people who talk about how ADHD brains react differently to meds than 'neurotypical brains' can not understand that like, for example, i cant eat a certain food, i can eat rotten food and food i dislike but not that food, no matter if im starving, I was restrained and force fed that food in special ed and then force fed my own vomit when i inevitably threw up, I would have eaten the food if i could to make that stop! Why is this contradiction so prevalent!!! Anyway love the blog im also having an #ediblenight

well a few things. one is simple moral hypocrisy (accommodations for me, not for thee)

another is that i think many people actually do perceive the philosophical nonsensicality of psychiatric diagnosis (the recursive circle whereby you are dx'd with x because you do y, which is caused by x, which you know because the definition of x is that someone does y, which was based on clinical observation of people doing y and doctors determining that was harmful and therefore indicative of a medical problem, in other words the entire thing's observational but interpreted as providing a causal explanation)--

--they do perceive this as basically nonsense, hence "having x doesn't excuse [behaviour]" but then simultaneously, they have a prima facie credulous attitude toward Science, and toward the claim that psychiatry is Science, and so you get these like nonsense statements out both sides of their mouths where a diagnosis doesn't excuse anything they find morally reprehensible or personally annoying but it does also provide biologically irrefutable explanations for other things WHEN that's convenient for them.

another thing is just that experientially, lots of our actions feel out of our control for like numerous reasons having to do with alienation largely, and when those actions are also stigmatised it pushes people toward the promise of moral exculpation that psychiatry markets itself with, which is a kind of determinism in its strong forms and isn't really compatible with interpreting other people's actions as being intentional or willed or whatever. so again you just end up with these double statements lol , like, a problem with psychiatry trying to claim legitimacy as a 'brain science' is it does kind of counterpose itself to most interpretations of free will. any time you are stuck choosing between moral culpability and biological determinism you kinda already lost the plot & this is something that antipsych people get maddeningly accused of all the time when what we're actually saying is it's possible to be neither biologically diseased nor broken nor immoral for doing the Behaviours lol

[lost-spoons]

I'm honestly not sure if I've mentioned this on here before, but here we go.

I've been looking into getting a service dog for a few years. What breed would be best for the tasks I need, if I should get a program trained dog or if I should owner train, what it costs to get said service dog and anything they need or would like, how to take care of a dog, what are the laws around service dog prospects and housing, what are the laws for service dogs, etc. etc.

Up until now, it's all been more of a thought experiment than anything else because my father established a "No Dogs Under My Roof" policy a long time ago, and despite a service dog being medical equipment, the answer to if I could get one is a hard "Not Under My Roof"

But! We're finally down to the last year or two of community college before I transfer to a 4 year where I'll be living on my own and can thus get a dog. So I'll be looking into breeders to see what their wait lists are like and check to make sure the breeder I decide to go with is actually an ethical breeder.

I've debated on breeds for a while. Poodles are hypoallergenic but require a lot of hair maintenance and will matte up fairly quickly if I forget to brush them due to a flare-up, so they're a no. Doberman seemed like a good fit as they met most of my requirements. However, I was informed that they're a velcro breed that are very protective, which makes sense since they are breed to be guard dogs, but that doesn't work if i need a strangers help. Goldens and labs are quite similar in most things regarding my list of requirements but didn't end up being my final choice.

I've decided to go with German Shepherds for the breed, as I need mobility, medical alert, and psychiatric tasks. That's quite a bit for one dog, but German Shepherds are breed specifically to be working dogs with varying jobs, so while I'll need to be careful with training to keep them from burning out as a puppy, they're my best bet.

I've decided on owner training supplemented with a professional trainer's support/assistance.

The mobility tasks in question aren't weight bareing, and even if they were, I'm aware that type of training doesn't start before the vet okays it around 2 or so years old. Sometimes, my vision stops working, or I'll get horribe brain fog making me very confused, and I can't bend down to pick things up off the floor unless I'm sitting, so think along those lines for mobility tasks.

The medical alert is for POTS and maybe migraines. I'm not sure how migraine alerts work yet, i still need to look into that one, but I know how to do the POTS ones.

The psychiatric tasks are to tell me if I'm displaying anxious habits cause I don't notice them and can't feel when I am due to a disconnect in my brain from physical reaction and emotional reaction. I react physically but can't emotionally, which means i can have the bodily reaction of a panic attack and all the issues that creates but I think im perfectly fine. Which is oh so fun to deal with (can you hear the sarcasm?) Plus a few other things I don't feel like sharing that I need help with.

If anyone has anything helpful to add, please do. I've looked into things, but research can only get you so far

[sapphos-darlings]

A certain strangeness has become obvious to me through detransitioning, and it's that for the first time, I'm well and truly aware that other people have very strong opinions about my body and who I am or should be and what that means for how I should be presenting myself.

At home, I have a wonderful bisexual partner who loves me for me, which includes the traits of me that are atypical for my birth sex. Particularly, they love the little facial hair I grow - and, to my surprise, got very sad when I shaved it for a trip to the capital. Of course I did, the same way I'll wear something that isn't my pyjamas when showing up in public for more than a trip to the store, but to them, this was a loss of something, and upsetting on a level that I hadn't expected. A silly thing, from both perspectives, they admit to this and there is no real pressure for me to show up as a caveman to the outside world, and in this case, it was a very positive and reassuring experience of someone having preferences for my body, because hair is something I grow naturally and my partner's reaction reinforced that this is not unwanted or ugly, which is a message I perhaps would expect from most people.

When I brought this up to my mother, however, she immediately reacted strongly in the opposite. She told me, very straightforwardly, that the facial hair that I grow is unsightly and I should get it plucked or lasered. I'm sorry, what? I spent four years of my life taking masculinising hormones so that I could grow facial hair and this is the best I could do and you'll tear it from my cold dead hands, thank you very much. She's also told me that my leg hair, as fine as it is, is horrible and I should shave it off. Why? Why should I? The only venue at which I present my hairy legs at is my own home. The hair that I grow hardly bothers anybody, and if she doesn't want to see it then maybe she shouldn't be looking when she comes over once every two months or so for a couple of days. She's entering my space, voluntarily - I'm not going to shave my legs for my own goddamn mother and if she can't deal with my body existing in its natural state then that seems like something she might need to go to therapy over, not my problem to deal with.

At a doctor's appointment, recently, as terrible as it was, I was trying to have changes made to my SSRI medication because the side-effects of it were driving me up the wall. Instead, this doctor diverted the discussion to her own personal problems with me.

"I was expecting a male patient. Are you changing your sex?"

No, ma'am, I am not. Sorry about the misleading name but that has nothing to do with my medication's array of side-effects. I had to explain to her that I am a born female, tried transitioning but it didn't work out because my body is extremely determined to stay female thank you very much, and that I am not male, never was, and I'm most definitely not MtF, not that it has any goddamn relevance to, again, my medication - which we never got around to discussing, because she did not care.

I ended up lowering my dose without supervision and dealing with the withdrawals to get rid of the worst of it, since clearly the psychiatric unit was not interested in helping me out with the issues I was having.

This is extremely jarring to me, because prior to detransitioning, I never faced issues like this. Now it feels like I'm questioned left and right about who I am and why I have a name like this and why I look like this and people feel entitled to opinions about my body and my appearance in ways that they never did before transition or during transition. When I was transitioning, I had few encounters in terms of people asking about my transition - but when they did, they were positive encounters. The most common one was chatty nurses during my million urgent care visits during that time, where they'd carefully sniff out how I felt about discussing my transition as a topic, and often fell into a casual, friendly conversation about how it all works, because I was never averse to talking about it and they were often dealing with the first trans patient of their careers, so it was the first time for them to be able to hear how it all worked and what it was like. It was never a negative experience, and nobody ever commented on how I looked, how I presented myself, etc.

And now it feels like that has been flipped on its head. Everyone has an opinion on my body, who I am, how I'm showing up. I should be doing this differently, I should look different, I should wear different clothes, I should have a different name.

I'm grateful to the people - my partner, my friends - who truly accept that I am who I am and I look the way I do and this is a positive thing for all of us. The rest of these people, I need them to, frankly, piss off about my body and identity. None of your fucking business how much hair I have on me or what my name is. Deal with it.

[xenodile]

Bad news everyone, I might potentially be homeless!

Long story short, around the start of this year, my dad's mental state took a pretty bad turn. I don't know the exact cause, if he's suffering from mental illness, or he's just given up all pretense of being a decent person, but he's more or less made it impossible to live with him.

It started with him coming home early from work and throwing an actual screaming tantrum, saying he can't live with the tension in the house between me and him, because I confessed in October of last year that I delayed coming out as trans because I was afraid of how he would react and what he would do to me. When I explained the laundry list of reasons why I didn't trust or feel safe around him, this made him angrier, denying did anything wrong, blaming me for feeling the wrong way, and demanding I forgive him for the things he didn't do that made my childhood utterly miserable. He essentially gave me an ultimatum of just..."letting go" of all my childhood trauma and giving him no accountability, or being kicked out because he "doesn't deserve" to be held responsible for his actions.

The situation was eventually deescalated, but tension remained in the house, and before long, started to be redirected at my mom. Over the past year, my dad grew increasingly hostile and confrontational about the most trivial things. Berating my mom and calling her names when she didn't drop everything to do what he wanted, calling the police saying that he was in danger after he started a fight that escalated into him screaming, even being in a room with him was stressful because he would all but invent reasons to start shouting.

On top of that, he had begun to actively lie to me and my mom, or perhaps he always lied and we only now caught it. Agreements that only he was privy to, misrepresenting events to pain himself as a victim, claims of who said what that were completely baseless and easily proven wrong, secret stashes of booze after he promised not to drink all year, all in addition to willful emotional manipulation and intimidation tactics. It has reached the point where my mom and I can no longer tell if he's out of touch with reality and thinks what he's saying is true, or if he's willfully malicious and knowingly lying. He's broken all trust either of us ever had in him.

Through it all, my mom and I have tried to urge him whenever we can to seek counseling or psychiatric help because his behavior is unusual and frightening, but he has rebuffed us at every turn, growing increasingly paranoid and hurling accusations at anyone and everyone that doesn't immediately take "his side".

There was no end to it. Every other week was another incident. He'd take my car and my dog hostage because he "didn't feel safe at home" after provoking and yelling at my mom. Any disagreement was turned into a fight. At one point he even threatened suicide when my mom wouldn't get a plane with him to Hawaii.

Things came to a head last week, where after learning that my mom took his name off the title of her car to make sure he didn't sell it out from under her like he did to another family car earlier that year, he got black out drunk and started tearing apart their shared bedroom. He barricaded the door shut and threw heavy objects at the door when my mom knocked to see if he was alright before going unresponsive.

My mom called 911 because she worried he'd hurt himself, and they had to break the door down to reach him. They found him passed out on the floor and barely able to walk after how much he'd had to drink from his secret stash, got him into a gurney and wheeled him out. From here things are a bit more fuzzy, as my mom and I were told he was being taken to a local hospital for care, but learned the next day he'd been transferred to a mental care facility that was two hours drive away after he got physically combative with medical staff.

He was put on a psychiatric hold while he was looked over and made sure he was not an immediate threat to himself or others, and was away for about six days. Yesterday he came home, and talked up how much he wanted to change and wanted to be better, but before 12 hours had passed he was right back to harassing my mom non-stop.

So my mom and I have left the house. We're currently at a motel for a few days while we file the paperwork to get a restraining order and try to figure out where we go from here because it is impossible to live with him. He's paranoid and either delusion or plain old hateful, and we cannot stay under the same roof as him any more.

So that's where I am now. Unsure of how or where things will go. Ideally, my mom and I can get back into our house and my dad can get the help he needs, but it's hard to say at this point.

Safe to say, I won't be streaming in the near future, as my equipment is all back home and I don't wanna try going off my laptop using public wifi. For now, I would ask you keep me in your thoughts, and if there's any advice or recommendations for how to proceed in this situation, I would be happy to hear them.

[thedandelionresistance]

I've been thinking about what I don't like about the social model of disability (as opposed to a mixed social-medical model) but basically it comes down to this:

Why, in your utopian future in which everyone has full social access systemically and structurally, do disabled people no longer meaningfully exist?

Because sure, the social model has "impairments" which is how your body can still make things difficult for you, but so many people have said "oh, but without access barriers and expectations for you to meet an arbitrary abled standard, you won't ever be barred from meaningful desired participation in society".

Why are you refusing to listen to severely disabled people?

I will NEVER, even if everything was fixed tomorrow, be able to participate in society to the extent I want or even NEED to, due to my disabilities. My BODY is preventing me from being able to meet my own NEEDS, let alone wants, without getting hurt/sick(in the chronic sense of like, flareups).

That's the impact issue, but even with just semantics - why are you treating disability as a dirty word and trying to replace it with a word that, quite frankly, is nearly as euphemistic as "differently abled"?

I am not "impaired". Impairment, by definition, means "less able", not "unable". "Diminished in function or ability" according to merriam-webster, "something that is less effective than it should be" according to Cambridge - sure, you could argue that less or diminished can go all the way to zero function/ability/efficacy, but it's generally understood that it means "some remaining ability".

I am dis-abled. My ability does not exist in specific contexts. Yes, in others I may unreliably have some ability or may typically have reduced ability, but for me, disability absolutely DOES mean inability.

No matter how many times someone condescendingly explains to me that they're not saying chronic pain will stop hurting or that my body will be perfectly healthy, treating me with all the infantilizing smugness typical of neuroableism against intellectually and cognitively disabled people, it doesn't change my actual lived reality of being severely disabled enough by my body that disability would still be a meaningful concept for me in a perfect society.

Quite frankly, I find it reminiscent of eugenicist fascism that pictures a future without me in it as ideal, to insist over me that I would have more access than I would and be less disabled than I am in a fully-accessible society. Even when that accessibility includes access to medical treatment, it is erasing the true depth and scope of my disability because... it's unpleasant to imagine some people don't have a solution that makes our disabilities a non-issue for us? That some of us just have to live with "impairments" so significant they limit our access and meaningful participation in society no matter how many access barriers are removed? That sometimes disability does include suffering that isn't a result of subjugation? That you can't fix society to "fix" us of our disabilities, making it so that no one is "disabled" but only "impaired"?

I will still have severe pain, and chronic fatigue that can permanently worsen when I overexert (which I can sometimes do just by existing alone), and an allergy condition that can react to stress and exertion alongside food and environment - along with several psychiatric conditions that neurochemically cause stress. I will still have asociality as a symptom of schizophrenia that makes me often unable to meet my own, still present, social need, despite that it also makes me need to be alone. I will still have everything from meltdowns to chronic fatigue triggered by sensory over and under stimulation. I will still experience symptoms like catatonia and, even medicated, executive dysfunction that make me unable to engage even with my hobbies and preferred activities.

More than that, though, I will still be disabled by these things. They are my physical access barriers, even in the absence of any social ones. Nothing short of them ceasing to exist and me becoming an abled person would make me, and people like me, "no longer disabled when access barriers cease to exist". The only way to make severely disabled people like me not disabled, is for our DISABILITIES to cease to exist.

I do actually understand the social model of disability, despite your attempts to ELI5 to me because you think the only reason I don't agree with you is because I'm too "stupid" to keep up with your genius. Arguably, I understand it to its full, logical, critically-analyzed conclusions better than you with your reactive, emotional-bias-driven defense of it. I don't even think it's without value! I think some people's experiences align solely or partially with the social model as much as any medical model.

I think neither fully encompasses the vast spectrum of disabled experiences alone, and have plenty of vitriol for the medical model being treated as the exclusive answer too. In fact, most of my raging against ableism is in fact directed at the medical model as it is ingrained in our society - to a very profound degree. When being an abuse victim is treated by psychiatry as itself mental illness (not just a cause of mental illness), my inability to leave my house without a power chair is treated as me being a lazy and morally bad person who is "choosing" to be unhealthy, when half my disabilities are considered good reason to deny me autonomy and necessary medical treatment by even the most progressive doctors, when a big amount of my isolation is because current society has left me to die - the ultimate social barrier of sacrificing my life for their "return to normal" - yeah, I have lots of issues with the medical model of disability.

In some ways, I would be significantly less disabled with the removal of all social (including ones in the medical system) access barriers.

In others, I would remain just as disabled as I am now.

As a brief aside, this goes for "psychiatric" disability as much as physical, for those that subscribe to cartesian dualism. I have known people to insist that psychiatric disabilities are all uniquely social, and that essentially there is no aspect of the neurocognitive experience that is inherently pathological even at an individual level. This strikes me as, once again, an act of violent erasure against the most severely disabled, speaking over us to supplant a narrative in which we are not allowed to define our own internal experience as disordered (in that it causes us significant distress or dysfunction), maladaptive (in that an otherwise adaptive coping skill is emerging in ways that is personally harmful to us), an "unreasonable" reaction to our internal and external circumstances according to our own standards of reason, and in some cases even requiring medication and/or physical medical treatment such as transcranial magnetic stimulation and similar.

I've seen the same people insist that because we don't yet understand how mental illness and neurodivergence occur chemically, electrically, or structurally in the bodymind, that they DON'T occur physically but are rather abstractions of cognition, driven solely by oppressive societal factors and which would largely disappear (outside of the few considered palatable when asymptomatic) when those social factors are "fixed". Even if they do acknowledge that "more severe" mental illnesses would continue to exist (never mind that they often consider things like all schizophrenia "more severe" than suicidal depression, regardless of level of distress actually caused), they once again do not consider them ever sufficiently innately distressing or disabling to be considered anything more than "differences" in a perfect society.

This is just taking words relating to ability/disability out of "differently abled" entirely, managing to somehow sprint past it on the euphemism treadmill.

Once again, it is catering to the comfort of usually more moderately disabled folks, to remove the narrative of the more severely disabled from the picture entirely, finding our nonexistence to be part of a perfect society and our continued existence as a barrier to such. It denies us even self-determination; "you wouldn't be disabled because your disabilities would have less of an impact on your life, regardless of your personal understanding of or internal experience with them".

I always have to wonder: What would be the response when that is proven untrue in that hypothetical perfect society?

Would they finally listen? Would they work to accommodate our actual reality?

Or would they subjugate and silence us, finally taking their desired position at the head of the hierarchy?

A pure social model is not just meaningless when it erases disability from being disabled, it's actively ableist. It seems to me a twisting, a bastardization of the original intention of the social model - as a response to the medical model pathologizing things that were not inherently pathological and often WERE about systemic access barriers.

I truly think the social model was never meant to stand alone as the sole model of disability, but rather to work in tandem with the medical model where applicable to cover the full spectrum of disabled experiences.

I will never believe in either on their own.

[disabled-diva]

OCD and being physically disabled

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, better known as OCD, has plagued my life for as long as I can remember. I never thought much of it because everyone would just say I was an “overthinker,” that's that. I could never stop thinking; my brain was in overdrive at every waking moment. Because of my childhood, I focus on “being a good person.” In my mind, because I had a disability, I had to make up for it in my personality. I was such a people pleaser in a specific way. I would go above and beyond to ensure my friends had everything they needed, even if it would negatively impact my life. I cared so much about what my loved ones thought of me. I started doing makeup at around 16, leading to a nasty, beautiful pipeline. I became hyper focused on whether I looked good, if I smelled, if my walking was too weird, or if my outfit complimented my body well. I would take several hours to get ready and go to Target with my friends because I needed to feel like I was one of them. Doing my makeup almost felt like a mask I could wear. It felt like the only way to humanize myself in a crowd of people who do not see me as human. I would constantly ask them for reassurance, ensuring I had their approval. Everything about my physical appearance had to be perfect, from how soft my skin was to whether there was a wrinkle on my top. I could not leave the house until I felt I looked perfect. When I was learning the basics of makeup, I would spend multiple hours every day for months on end just practicing my eyeliner and eyebrows. I had to perfect it to my liking (even if I wasn't going anywhere), or I would have the most insane outburst. I could not be interrupted in this process because their presence made me feel like they ruined my makeup entirely.

Regarding my health, if I had a medical issue, I would immediately fixate on how it would affect me for the rest of my life. Since my disability is degenerative, I convince myself that my random nausea is going to make me throw up so much that I will become dehydrated and die. I have a mild case of my disorder. Fortunately, my body typically reacts well to illnesses, but that does not stop me from spiraling. I convince myself that everything happening to me is my fault, and I must find a way to fix it. Typically, there is no fix, and I reassure myself I am on my deathbed. In the back of my head, I think I am trying to find a cure for my disability, even though I know there isn't one.

My walking is a big contender for my OCD as well. Because of my disability, I walk side-to-side, almost like waddling. In public spaces, people stare at me without regard for my feelings. I know I am only a stranger to them, but the least an abled body person can do is respect me. I have been fixated on my walking because of this for as long as I can remember. For the first twenty years of my life, it made me physically sick to my stomach to watch myself walk. If I were around people I wanted to impress, I would try to hide my impairment as much as possible. I hated how, most of the time, people’s first impression of me was my walking. That drove me up the wall my whole teenage life. I didn’t start actively dating until I was around 18 because of how much my walking would eat me alive. I honestly had convinced myself that it was the only thing that mattered about me. Every time I met someone new I obsessed about what they think of my walking. 

Not until recently did I discover this was all part of my OCD. I did not know there was a term to describe my feelings. No longer was I labeled with having “intense anxiety,” but I had a diagnosis of my problems. Therapy and psychiatric medications have assisted me tremendously. I now know how to properly self-soothe and realize when I am having another obsession or compulsion. Beforehand, it felt like the thoughts would never end, and I am delighted and fortunate to have received this help.

[sjsmith56]

Two Steps to the Left - Part 2

Summary: The interrogation of Arnim Zola gets the information needed for Steve and Bucky to perform their mission of retrieving the serum.

Length: 3.6K

Characters: Colonel Phillips, Arnim Zola, Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Arnim Zola (lying POS), WW2 Bucky feeling left out of the loop.

Author notes: Bucky is starting to believe in his abilities and that he won’t become something dark, but there is still some mistrust.

<<Part 1

🪖 🪖

Interrogation Room

Knowing that Zola would have to be interrogated again on the subject of how much serum had been given to Bucky was the next step to be completed before the Howling Commandos could undertake the mission to retrieve the serum.  Although the voice said that Bucky and Steve could retrieve it together, even he admitted the mission stood a better chance of success if the whole team was involved.  The Colonel made it very clear that he would find out the dosage, especially now that he knew the diminutive doctor was a shrewd and manipulative character. 

With Peggy Carter beside him, they entered Zola's cell.  This time, the Colonel brought a tray of food better suited to the doctor's preferred vegetarian diet, lentil soup, whole grain bread and a jar of Marmite, along with a glass of tomato juice.  It was gratifying to see how Zola's eyes widened at the sight of the meal, considering how many previous meals he had barely nibbled at.  The Colonel pushed the tray towards him, smiling genially at the man, while Carter watched from the corner of the room.

"You took the trouble of making a vegetarian meal for me, Colonel?  I appreciate it."

"Well, we're not cruel, Dr. Zola," answered Phillips.  "You do need sustenance.  The cook tells me the lentil soup is quite good and that marmite, although an acquired taste, is liked by many of the Brits.  Go ahead, please, eat."  Zola took several spoonfuls of the soup, smiled and took another before looking up at the commanding officer.  "I do have some questions for you."

"I assumed as much," said Zola.  "What do you wish to know?"

"Exactly what did you do to Sergeant Barnes when he was your prisoner at the HYDRA factory?"

A slight hesitation as Zola lifted the spoon was the only indication that he hadn't expected that question.  Without making eye contact he responded.

"What makes you think I did anything to him?  Has he said anything?"

"No, nothing specific other than you experimented on some of the prisoners, but his behaviour has drawn some attention and after what happened last night ... well, let's just say the Sergeant may not finish the war in uniform."

Phillips and Carter observed the doctor carefully as he processed what was just said.  Putting his spoon down he opened the jar of Marmite and spread a thin layer on the bread, then bit into it, chewing it slowly, before sipping some of the tomato juice.  Only then did he look at the pair.

"What exactly happened?  I am a medical doctor.  Perhaps I can help."

"I doubt that," drawled the Colonel.  "Our doctors are sure it was something you did to him that put him in this state.  Quite frankly, after seeing what he is capable of most of them don't think he can be helped.  They wish to ship Barnes back to a nice psychiatric facility in the States, where he won't be a danger to anyone, except himself."

"He hurt someone?  That is most unfortunate."  Zola took a few more sips of his juice.  "We did give the Sergeant a new medication when we realized he was suffering from pneumonia.  Perhaps, it is a delayed reaction to it?"

"Like penicillin, you mean?" Carter spoke, then shook her head.  "It was over a year ago, Doctor.  I doubt the body would react to a medication that long after it was administered.  At least, that's what our doctors said.  Steve ... I mean Captain Rogers said it was like he was fighting ...."  She looked at the Colonel.  "Sorry, sir, it just slipped out."

Zola studied the looks between them, at the obvious way the Colonel glared at the woman for admitting that Barnes fought Captain America.  His mind whirled with excitement.  Even more than a year after the last serum treatment the benefits were still present in the Sergeant, enough for him to possibly injure the one man who had been a thorn in HYDRA's side since he rescued all those soldiers.  It was imperative that the Sergeant receive the remaining serum, as well as completing the reconditioning treatment to turn him into the Winter Soldier.  They wouldn't let him free to return to his lab but perhaps he could convince them to get the serum here.  The reconditioning treatment could be done later, after Barnes had received most of the serum, but not enough to lock the effects permanently which would prevent the reprogramming of the soldier's brain.  With the several HYDRA moles already in place in the American military, a memory suppression machine could even be set up at an allied base and the Sergeant's treatment continued in secret without the Allies even being aware of their true nature.  Without even thinking the doctor took an energizing breath then realized the pair were looking at him strangely.

"Doctor, is there something you're not telling us?"

Phillips' stare bore into the doctor.

"Well, yes," he stammered, pretending to be telling them this information, reluctantly.  "We did give the Sergeant an experimental treatment; nothing that harmed him, I assure you.  In fact, it was something similar to Dr. Erskine's initial plan for his serum; something that could help the human body heal itself quicker and more efficiently.  It seemed to do wonders for the Sergeant who was frankly in danger of dying but it was interrupted before it could be completed by the arrival of Captain America and the rescue of all the soldiers at the factory.  Perhaps, his body is at a stage of withdrawal where he needs the balance of the treatment."

"You mean you also have a serum like Dr. Erskine's?" asked Phillips, trying to add some excitement to his manner.  "How much does he need to complete the treatment?  I know how many vials we injected into Captain Rogers to achieve the results of his."

"Yes, I do, but you needed to infuse him with Vita Radiation after to activate the serum, am I correct?" countered Zola, effectively admitting he had access to intelligence on Project Rebirth.  "My serum does not require the radiation although I suppose it would draw out every last benefit if it were done all at once as the Captain's was.  We injected it on a daily schedule, with the initial plan to extend it to six months, allowing the body to adjust at a slower pace.  If, by the young lady's admittance, Sergeant Barnes was strong enough to affect Captain Rogers during an encounter, I would think we could double the dosage.  However, the serum is all in a lab in Germany.  Without it, I anticipate that the Sergeant's behaviour will continue to deteriorate."  He shook his head sadly, making sure he appeared to be concerned about Barnes' health.  "Such a sad outcome for a fine young man."

"How much serum are we talking about, Doctor?"  Phillips looked at him.  "Perhaps, we can send a team to retrieve it and bring back enough for the Sergeant.  I agree that the prospect of sentencing Sergeant Barnes to a lifetime in a psychiatric facility for what is obviously a medical issue vexes me."

"Perhaps I could trouble you for a pencil and paper," smiled Zola.

Peggy Carter stifled the ill feeling that Zola's smile brought up in her.  It was enough to make her vomit.  She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a small pad of paper as well as a pencil, placing it on the table in front of the doctor.  As he drew it in closer and began to make calculations she stole a look at Phillips.  He seemed ready to lean over and knock the doctor's head off but glanced at her before resuming his troubled commander look.  After several minutes of calculations Zola wrote something down on several clean sheets of paper and pushed them towards the Colonel.

"There, that is my best calculation of how much serum Sergeant Barnes needs to lock in the benefits of the serum and be at a fully operational status.  I have also provided you with the location of my lab, along with the lock combination to get in and out quickly as time is of the essence if we wish to relieve the Sergeant of his dilemma."  Phillips reached out to take the slips.  "I only ask one thing."  Phillips stopped then looked at Zola without changing the position of his head.  "I wish to be present while he is undergoing the treatment.  I understand he doesn't trust me but as a doctor and a scientist, I feel it is important for me to be there for what is sure to be a momentous occasion."

Phillips grasped the papers then stood up and looked at the doctor.  "Of course, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement."  He waved the slip of papers like he would a flag.  "Thank you, Doctor.  You've been most cooperative, and I'll make sure to tell my superiors that.  Enjoy your meal."

Phillips and Carter exited the interrogation room, where a trusted SSR captain and an MP waited.

"Once he's finished eating, I want him moved to another location," ordered Phillips.  "We're certain there are HYDRA agents in sensitive positions in both the American and British military so find the most innocuous installation and transport him there where he can't contact anyone or be tracked.  If Army Intelligence comes looking for him, I want them to know they have HYDRA moles that must be neutralized first.  Once you find that place you send me a coded location message.  I will reply when our mission has been accomplished."

Both soldiers saluted as the Colonel and Carter left with the location of Zola's lab and the amount of serum needed.  In the jeep on the way to the airfield where the Howling Commandos waited, they said nothing, as the driver wasn't cleared to hear any top-secret information.  He dropped them off in front of the stolen German aircraft, then drove a short distance away as Steve, dressed incognito and Bucky approached the Colonel and Peggy.  Handing them the information he gazed at Bucky with concern.

"Zola said the schedule for your dosage could be doubled but it would still take weeks.  He didn't disagree that all the serum could be given in concert with the Vita-Ray radiation treatment.  Seemed to think it would draw out every last benefit.  What does your voice say to that?"

Bucky waited for his counterpart's voice to make itself known.  Just as he was about to tell Phillips that the voice wasn't answering he heard him.

"Theoretically it should work just as Steve's did, but it is a copy of the original incomplete formula that was used on Schmidt, which is why they had to inject you over a period of time.  My medical colleague here would be willing to come and supervise the process, but he can't guarantee the results.  It would also have to be in secret because his appearance may cause concern."

"He can come here?" Bucky repeated.  "Would you come as well?"

There was no answer for a long time then he heard his voice.  "I'm not sure that's a good idea but my medical colleague says he would feel easier if I was there with him, just in case.  It's your call, Bucky."

Everyone was looking at him.  The whole balance of the mission was on him, a sergeant with some unstable serum setting up shop in his body.  Removing it wasn't an option.  His only real choice was to take the full treatment, but something was coming soon that he would be needed for, so the treatment had to be sped up.  He looked at Steve, whose impassive face showed that this was Bucky's decision.  He wasn't going to pressure him in any way, but he would support his friend, like he had done since Bucky finally confided in him.

"Alright, I'll undergo the same treatment," he said to the Colonel.  "The voice said he and a medical colleague are coming to supervise it, but it will have to be a secret location because of the colleague's appearance.  He also can't guarantee the results."

"Very well," said the Colonel, without question.  "While you're away, I'll contact Stark to set up the radiation chamber in a new location.  When you return, we'll go there.  Does your counterpart need any advance notice?"

"No, just let us know where the place is and when, and we'll be there.  Bucky?  No heroics from you and Steve on this.  No matter what you might see there, don't interfere.  Just go in and out then come back.  Got it?"

"Understood," he replied, then looked at everyone.  "Let's go."

As the aircraft took off, Colonel Phillips and Peggy Carter looked at each other, hoping this would go to plan.  The driver was waved over, and the pair climbed into the jeep to be taken back to their base.

The Mission

As the Commandos looked at the camp in front of them, Bucky repeated what his future counterpart said about getting in and out of the lab quickly.  They weren't to interfere with what was going on.

"What were his specific words?" Steve looked at his friend.

"No heroics from you or me on this."  Bucky saw a grin appear on Steve's face.  "No, he was quite specific that we get in, get what we came for and get out."

"Yeah, but he didn't say the guys couldn't do some damage."  The superhero waved his hand at the obvious purpose of the facility, as the work crews of what were obviously civilians lined up while guards with snarling dogs on leashes approached them.  "There's nothing stopping them from creating a diversion that might also allow a lot of these prisoners to escape.  You and I won't be involved.  We'll already be inside the lab."  He raised his eyebrows.  "I think your future Bucky just wanted to make sure that you and I stayed on the most immediate task.  Remember, at first, he said we could do it alone.  Then he agreed the Commandos could come.  Why else would he say that?"

Shaking his head, Bucky waited for the voice to counter what Steve just said but he remained silent.  With a resigned breath, Bucky nodded his head, then rolled his eyes as Steve gleefully went to the others and gave them the go-ahead to implement a plan they had already drawn up.  He returned to Bucky's side with a grin, then pulled his black headgear on, the need to hide his true identity necessary.

"Ready?  Race you to the fence."

He took off, and Bucky groaned then ran after him, still dealing with the realization that he could keep up with Steve, at least for a time.  Just as he began to slow down, they reached their destination, and Steve jumped up to the top of the observation tower, tossing the two guards over like they were trash.  Bucky finished the job, punching them for good measure then tied them up.  Both men took the weapons with them.  Just as they reached the second tower an explosion at the far side of the facility drew the attention of every guard near them, sending them running towards the scene.  Steve jumped up to the top of the next tower and tossed those two guards over then landed on the other side of the fence, waiting for Bucky to finish them off.  Both men grasped hold of the wire and pulled it apart, allowing room for Bucky to get through.  They ran towards the administration buildings, stopping along the way as teams of soldiers ran towards the obvious sounds of a gun battle.  Just as they were about to run, a hand on Bucky's shoulder startled him and he whirled around ready to shoot.  The obvious prisoner stepped back, holding his hands up.

"American?" he asked.  "Rescue?"

"American, yes.  Rescue, no."  Bucky looked at the man's disappointment then unloaded all the weapons he took from the tower guards, grabbing them off of Steve as well, and giving them to the prisoner.  "Hole in the fence.  There."  He pointed towards the second tower.  "Escape.  Go."

With understanding in his eyes, the man gathered the weapons close then ran to a nearby building, where an outer door opened then closed as he entered.  A few moments later it opened again to several armed prisoners leading the others towards the second guard tower.  As they encountered other guards, they engaged them in battle then distributed their weapons amongst the others.  Returning his attention to Steve they ran towards the building where Zola said his lab was and entered it, finding the door to the lab locked with a combination lock set into the door.  They dialled the correct combination and opened it, turned on the light and looked for the locker where the serum was supposed to be stored.  Finding it, Steve broke that lock with his hands and opened the doors.  Both men gasped when they saw all the serum that was sitting there, dozens of cases with six vials in each container. 

"There's enough here for many men," said Steve.  "Bucky, we can't let them keep it and it's too much to safely carry."

"Fuck.  Hey!  What are we supposed to do with all this serum?" he cried out, wanting an answer from the voice.

There was no answer and once again he was faced with the dilemma of it being his decision.  Grabbing a satchel, he took out what was needed for himself, then added several more cases, grabbing some lab coats and stuffing them in to cushion the cases.  Steve did the same then looked at all the serum that was left.  Noticing a Bunsen burner attached to a gas outlet, Bucky opened the valve and several others fully as Steve did the same then they retreated to the door of the lab.  Lighting an emergency lantern that was just outside the door, Bucky tossed it inside, watching as the fire spread.  The two men glanced at each other then began running towards the hole in the fence, where dozens of prisoners were lined up to get out.  Ignoring them, they both pulled another portion of the wire fence apart and burst through followed by other prisoners.  After quickly leaving them behind, the two men ran to the rendezvous point where they were joined by rest of the Howling Commandos, spread between two stolen motor cars, their faces flush with the knowledge that they had destroyed a Nazi concentration camp.  Jumping inside the vehicles, the order was given to return to the aircraft.  Along the way a large explosion occurred behind them and both Steve and Bucky smiled at each other, knowing they were the cause of it.  Their pilot started up the aircraft as they abandoned the vehicles and clambered on, taxiing it to the end of the runway.

"We got company!"

Steve and Bucky both looked out the cockpit window at several trucks of German soldiers approaching them.  The pilot applied full throttle then lifted off well before they had set up their anti-aircraft weapons.  Circling towards the west they were soon approaching the border with France, taking some flak from the defences there.  After Gabe successfully contacted the base in England they were left alone as they flew over the channel and prepared to line up for the runway.  In all that time, the voice never spoke a word until just as the tires made contact with the pavement.

"Good work."

"Where were you?" asked Bucky.  "You seriously expected that Steve and I wouldn't help them?"

The Commandos watched, having been read in on Bucky's future counterpart.

"No, I never expected that, but you still had to stay on mission.  History just never knew that the Commandos and either of you were involved in this.  We had to keep it that way.  You were a mystery Allied unit that helped a bunch of prisoners escape from a concentration camp that was also a site for human experimentation.  It was always going to happen, but the circumstances dictated how, and I didn't have the information to tell you that."

Bucky grunted, slinking back into the bench as the aircraft taxied towards a far building.  They were being picked up far away from prying eyes, transported directly to a camp where Colonel Phillips would advise him where he had to go for the full treatment.  One more step completed since that first step to the left that started this whole thing.

"Bucky?"

"What?"

"It's hard to be out of the loop but if I tell you too much too soon, then there's a good chance we don't get the outcome we want.  When I get there, you and I will have a private talk and I'll tell you everything that I'm permitted to tell you."

"Alright, I guess.  Tell me something.  Is Steve in your future just as impulsive as he is now?"  There was no answer.  "Bucky?" 

Still no answer.  Why didn't he answer?  Better yet, why didn't Steve from the future have a connection to this Steve?  There was no time to dwell on that as the aircraft came to a stop and the exit door was opened.  But it was definitely something he was going to bring up to his counterpart.

Part 3>>

Series Masterlist