#i hate that i have to pay for my education with my mental health aside from actually money cries
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tragic!!! the most caring lovable funniest sexiest and most lovable person you know in the world is struggling and TRAPPED in the shackles of academia!! the people around them are telling them that if they dont make an immediate decision about what their life is gonna look like in the next 5 years a bom b is gonna go off and kill everyone
#that person is yours truly of course#im struggling up in this bitch so bad for the love of god somebody save my from courseworks and exams#my mental health is on the decline and the work thats being given to me is constantly piling up i might not make it lads#god why is everything so bad#not to be dramatic but am i cooked guys is this over for me am i doomed#i hate academia so much despite being smart#like in the grand scheme of things I KNOW this is such a small matter like legit its not that serious but oh my hoddd#i have to pick between continuing my current 18 month long course (10 months remaining) OR opt for a way easier diploma#thats gonna take three years and gonna give me less job qualifications#i hate that i have to pay for my education with my mental health aside from actually money cries#its okay i will le sigh and cringe this on#im so normal everything is so fine 🙏 god bless
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The current discourse surrounding the cost of living crisis seems somewhat incomplete to me. When it comes up in the media or in discussions around me, it is consistently framed in terms of individuals' financial constraints, addressing what people can or cannot afford. I am not disputing that at all; that perspective is undeniably valid. In fact, I would argue that livable wages, affordable housing and rental control, neighbourhood resources, adequate public transit, high-quality education and efficient and productive health services are all very prevalent issues that fall under public safety.
But aside from all of that, when thinking about the cost of living crisis, I find myself asking: Why must we pay for everything in the first place? Today, I read this article highlighting local repair shops evolving into community hubs for free assistance in fixing gadgets and clothing. It prompted reflections on a bygone era when reciprocity thrived in communities, emphasising mutual aid rather than profit.
The individuals interviewed in the article are far from being revolutionary figures. Their actions echo sentiments reminiscent of historical resistors of industrialisation, like the Luddites (a word I learned from an English professor I hated) from the 19th century. Their resistance took various forms, some violent, but it takes one Google Scholar search to show that many chose to assert the mentality of: 'I do not need your money as desperately as you think, for I have systems of kinship outside this monetised economy.' The viewpoint of acknowledging that while currency is nice to have and it provides things, it really does not meet the majority of my needs right now is one that I am newly trying to adopt every single day. For me it's about starting small. I constantly think about that one viral Tumblr post about the commodification of friendship. It says:
the commodification of friendship is the most annoying thing to come out of the internet in ages. like actually i love to break this to you but you’re supposed to help your friends move even if it’s hard work. or stay up with them when they’re sad even if you’re gonna lose sleep. you’re supposed to listen to their fears and sorrows even if it means your own mind takes on a little bit of that weight. that’s how you know that you care. they will drive you to the airport and then you will make them soup when they’re sick. you’re supposed to make small sacrifices for them and they are supposed to do that for you. and there’s actually gonna be rough patches for both of you where the balance will be uneven and you will still be friends and it will not be unhealthy and they will not be abusive. life is not meant to be an endless prioritization of our own comfort if it was we would literally never get anywhere ever. jesus.
No, it isn't talking about the cost of living crisis, per se, but I like that the writer has specified how important community is and how yes, it may be unbalanced at times, and you won't gain from it monetarily, but that's OK. I'm constantly trying to remind myself that the human experience should be about giving. And I try. With my family. My friends. And in my community.
And so back to the main point: Does a significant portion of the cost of living crisis lies not just in our inability to afford things but in the imperative to afford everything. The issue transcends high prices; it's about the pervasive commodification of all aspects of life. It's about everything having a cost to begin with: whether that is physical items (like the things people were working on in repair shops) or emotional support (commodification of friendship). Capitalist logic has infiltrated to such an extent that almost everything is now part of a monetised economy. That's just so lame to me and not a trap I want to fall into.
#cost of living#cost of living crisis#commodification#commodification of friendship#community#capitalism#anti capatilism#i hate doing tags
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logged onto my ancient ass gaia online account to reminisce on things I forgot.
Yes, there was cringeworthy bad poetry made to cope with the shitty situation of my life and relationships. Hella calls for help for dealing with my worsening mental health. Posts about activism and supporting friends and hopefully one day being able to turn into animals lol.
I'm a little freaked out that everything is stored in this online cringe time capsule, but I'm also really grateful for it. I was depersonalizing almost all the time and have trouble remembering a lot of early high school because of it. It was a scary time to be me, in retrospect. My first exposures to stalkery behavior in school, panicking about grades and abuse constantly, losing all of my best friends, and having my closest cousins taken away too. Plus a lesbionic awakening in a small town?! No wonder I was so fucking weird to the people around me. I have trouble even saying these things now, which is not great.
All that aside, I'm glad it's there. It always felt like after I got kicked out in senior year, the old me died and someone new was born to take their place. Someone hard pressed to always remember that no one will ever truly be there for me when shit goes down. But looking back, that was just a phase of life for someone who was always me.
Remembering things and accessing memory easily has always been hard with CPTSD, so I've depended on my past self so often for writing things down to make sure I remembered things accurately. I don't have access to much of my pre senior year life anymore, but reading these old messages and forum posts was really cool. I'm reminded that throughout time, I've changed in ways I wanted to, and stayed the same in ways that are really comforting and that matter. I still care about activism in asia, i just do things differently now with education. I still cared about my friends and hated stalkers, I still get really fucked up when I lose friends. I still write weird poetry, but I've grown enough to feel safe in actually being vulnerable in writing so now people love it, want it, and will pay for it. The poetry's better, the interests are still there, and nobody can beat me for telling the truth. I think that's pretty neat.
I feel like I direct a lot of disdain towards my past self, but another cousin sent me a reminder today that that past self I cringed at saved my life and helped take me to today. They're the one who wrote all those posts and notebooks upon notebooks of messages for present me to read and store safely. Thank you, past me. Maybe this will figure into my memory zine.
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A Debunking and, in my Humble Opinion, Superior Version of Weird History’s “Hardcore Facts About Alexander Hamilton”
I haven’t updated my blog in quite some time, and that is due to my schedule being primarily dominated by school. So, I decided my first step into posting semi-regularly once more shall be a more casual, more fun endeavor.
If you have not heard of the Weird History youtube channel, good for you. It is yet another social media platform that misconstrues history to appeal to the public’s enjoyment of extremes and strangeness. I saw The Historical Fashion Queens make a video responding to their highly misinformed documentary on corsetry on Miss Abby Cox’s youtube channel, which I highly recommend. This intrigued me, and I decided to find a video I could dissect off my expertise, at first only for fun in my own time. This resulted in the production in a very long bullet list in the notes app of my phone. So here is my informal destruction of this godforsaken video.
Disclaimer: I am not at all excusing any of the awful things Alexander Hamilton did during his lifetime. I am absolutely the last person who would even come near to claiming that many of the things he did were justifiable in the slightest. Although, he might be the only historical figure which I have a very strong interest in the life of, as he was incredibly complex, and the part of me with a love of psychology finds him absolutely fascinating. There is also something to be said about the way we consider moral standards of historical figures. We are quite lucky to believe in the time that we do, and not all of our standards can apply to historical figures. This does not mean they should not be held accountable. I find that a way to criticize people while also praising them where it is due is by judging them based upon their intentions. In my opinion, Hamilton’s intentions were not to harm anyone in most situations, so I don’t think he was a terrible person, nor do I think he was a particularly good one. Then again, I don’t think either of those things about a mass majority of people, so let us proceed without further delay. (Note: I will also be referring to the collective Weird History channel as the Narrator to avoid any mental gymnastics, and all of my knowledge is coming from my memory of Hamilton’s writing and some biographies.)
Automatically, the video starts with mention of the musical, but that just reminds me that many use Ron Chernow’s biography of Hamilton as a basis of their statements about him without utilizing much critical thinking, so I am slightly nervous.
The Narrator then refers to Hammy Ham man as “...one of America’s most undervalued founding fathers...” Now, it is debatable whether or not Mr. Hamilton is undervalued per se, but when it comes to the founding fathers, they are usually undervalued or overvalued. At this point, Hamilton is both.
I shall not subscribe, thank you for the offer though, Mr. Narrator.
Now for the first fact: “Historians don’t know when Hamilton was born.” Yes, this is correct, but I don’t believe this should be labeled as “hardcore”, but perhaps that is just me. One early document indicates that Hamilton was born in 1755, while all later ones point to 1757 as his year of birth. We know Hamilton was not always a completely honest man, so it is possible that he lied.
Also, they show an image of a baby, and I do not know if this is actually Hamilton, but they use a lot of strange imagery, which I found humorous.
“A self-made man born out of wedlock.” Now, this fact could indeed be “hardcore”, if this was not colonial America we are discussing. Hamilton actually wasn’t really special in this regard. Yes, his rise to fame was impressive considering his circumstances, but this wasn’t unheard of.
The Narrator then says that Hamilton’s mother, Rachel Faucette, was “estranged from her husband.” This caused me some confusion as it is a vast understatement. Her ex-husband was absolutely awful to her.
Additionally, they claim that James Hamilton left his family behind for some reason that I did not write in my notes, but the most likely reason that he actually left was because of his awesome debt. James Hamilton also had a history of ambitious pursuits for money, so it would not be extreme to claim that he moved to another island to attempt to make a fortune in some trading endeavor.
They also cease to mention the Stevens family, who housed young Alexander while he was working for Beekman and Cruger, and had a great influence on him, but I digress.
“A college dropout who joined the Revolution.” Once again, this isn’t special. Many rowdy young Whigs left behind their careers and educations for pursuit of military fame in the Continental Army. They also do not mention anything of Hamilton’s expansive military career, which aside from being indicative of primitive research, but would produce more “hardcore facts.”
Although, they do discuss his application to Princeton college, which is interesting enough I suppose, although everyone who has heard the first two songs of the musical knows this story. His proposal for an “accelerated course of study” was likely inspired by Aaron Burr, as claimed by Chernow and Miranda, or James Madison, as supported by evidence provided by author Noah Feldman in his novel, The Three Lives of James Madison, which is an excellent read. Young Madison, having already completed a course, decided to do so again, but compacting a usually three year course into a shorter period of time. He hardly slept during this period, which was stressful upon his health, making Princeton more disinclined to allow a similar course to be taken.
The Narrator then claims that Hamilton “formed his own militia of 25 men.” Technically, yes? But not exactly. Hamilton joined a paramilitary group called the Hearts of Oak, and they drilled in Trinity Churchyard. This became ironic later. He then became a captain in the New York Artillery Company, and enlisted his own men, which was at one time around thirty or so, if my memory serves me correctly.
“Founded a bank that existed for over two centuries.” Ah, yes, a very hardcore fact indeed. Yes, Hamilton did establish the Bank of America, but Robert Morris was the one who inspired him to do so. Though, I do think the financial plan is a product of his own genius, but I will get into that much later.
I got an ad. :(
The Narrator also says that the misfortunes done to the New York shipping industry by the Articles of Confederation were the most prominent, if not sole, motivation for Hamilton to concoct his financial plan. He first recognized the need for a sound financial plan when he was in the army. You know, when he was watching men die of inadequate supplies because the government couldn’t tax the states.
This video, like Chernow’s biography and Miranda’s musical, claims that Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr were friends when, in actuality, they weren’t really. Yes, they knew each other, and they didn’t hate each other until the end of Hamilton’s life, but they really didn’t think about each other much before the Election of 1800.
“Hamilton authored over half of the Federalist Papers.” Indeed, he did! I enjoy this fact. It isn’t very “hardcore” but it is very impressive. The Federalist Papers were arguably Hamilton’s greatest accomplishment, as he organized the entire thing and, as previously stated, authored much of them. I very much enjoy the Federalist Papers, as they give some insight as to Hamilton’s political and philosophical theories, as well as how he thought of the world. It makes for an interesting read if you have something you’re looking for.
Now, this may be a hot take, but Madison’s essays are by far more effective, as they were better organized. Hamilton and I share a common flaw, and that is the lack of brevity.
“Involved in America’s first sex scandal.” Yes, we all know. I’ll get into the Reynold’s affair later because it’s its own beast to conquer. Basically what you need to understand information I shall provide later in this post is that James Reynolds extorted money from Hamilton, and if Hamilton failed to pay, Reynolds would expose the affair Hamilton was having with his wife, Maria. Hamilton paid, but when Reynolds was arrested for something else, he exposed Hamilton anyway.
“He worked with Aaron Burr to defend a man.” Once again, this isn’t very surprising. They were both capable lawyers in the same area, so it was basically inevitable. Though there was this one instance where Hamilton and Burr were working on a case together and Hamilton, being himself, insisted upon having the last word. Well, Burr was tired of him, and I can’t say I blame him, so he made every possible argument in his finishing speech, leaving Hamilton with virtually nothing.
The Narrator also mentions Hamilton’s opposition to slavery, but he didn’t really outwardly oppose it as much as you would think listening to the musical or reading Chernow’s biography. Far from being the “fervent abolitionist” Chernow and Miranda glorify, Hamilton didn’t really do much for the enslaved. He helped John Laurens in his Black Plan and joined the Manumission Society, but other than that, he never made any attempt to progress the abolition of slavery. He also “purchased” slaves for his in-laws, and some argue that he “owned” some himself, but there is no contemporary evidence to support this that I have seen. The enslaved and servants that were in his household likely belonged to his wife.
“Founded a newspaper that still exists.” Ok.
“Died by duel.” I swear, this fact is by far the most unnecessary. They mention the duel so many times that it is already redundant. I completely skipped over this part, and the video ended, so I was thoroughly underwhelmed.
Well, seeing as this post is already longer than my attention span, I shall save you the pains of having to read any more in just one post. I shall make a follow-up to this where I give my own facts, which I believe are far more hardcore than “he founded a newspaper.” I hope you have enjoyed and this isn’t too terribly boring. I hope to get back to posting soon.
#alexander hamilton#eliza hamilton#hamilton#hamilton the musical#hamilton the movie#lin manuel miranda#ron chernow#aaron burr#maria reynolds#james reynolds#james madison#thomas jefferson#john jay#weird history#abby cox#American Revolution#amrev#amrev history#american history#american colonies#america#the american revolution#The American War of Independence#colonial america#hamilton burr duel#duel#omg im so tired of planning and writing this but im pushing through for the sake of accurate portrayals of real people#im carrying the weight of the world all of you should be thanking me#is it awkward if i listen to how stands the glass around while i write this
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Who Am I?
It’s a question we’ve all asked ourselves at least once. If you say you haven’t, you’re a liar. Unless you knew from the beginning what kind of person you wanted to be, the job you wanted to have, and the life you wanted to live, you’ve asked yourself who you are, or who you were going to be. Maybe it wasn’t the exact word, maybe it wasn’t even a question, but you’ve at least thought about the answer. We don’t go about our lives automatically knowing what we’re going to do, how we’re going to act, or how we’re going to feel. All of those are questions we must discover the answers to.
When I was a kid, I thought I wanted to be a veterinarian. I believed so whole-heartedly that taking care of sick and injured pets was what I wanted to do with my life, but now? Now, there’s no way I could ever be a vet. Yes, I love animals and I’m very good with them, but I don’t love school. I’ve always had a difficult time when it comes to academics that didn’t include art or music. That probably had more to do with my undiagnosed ADHD and strict mother that didn’t bother to even try and understand my mental health than school itself, but the result is the same: I despise school.
That’s a lie.
I never thought my feelings towards education would change but school can be quite enjoyable when I’m learning something that interests me. This realization hit me within the first week of attending art school; most of my classes are all about a topic I enjoy or am at least intrigued by. There is one certain class that seems a bit pointless to me but, for the most part, I look forward to attending my classes. I even get excited about Drawing I, the class I struggle with the most because I’m a photography major and can barely draw a stick figure! The truth of the matter is, I never hated school. I simply loathed the circumstances in which I had to attend.
As I stated before, I had undiagnosed ADHD until about a year ago. I could never pay attention during class and failed to complete homework assignments. English was one of the worst classes in terms of my attention span. As soon as I was able to read, I became obsessed with books and writing. I started creating stories when I was still in elementary school and by the time, I was a middle schooler, I already knew everything they were trying to teach me. This led to a lot of conflict between me and my teachers as I would write or read rather than pay attention to their lecture, which was ironic considering the focus of the class. My teachers still liked me after the fact, too, because I always had some of the best work (when I decided to turn it in).
My mother never understood my ADHD, or any other of my disorders. From early on in my childhood to high school, doctors and counselors alike wanted me to get tested for it, but my mother refused to believe such a thing even exists. She claimed it was an “excuse” for me to not do my work and that I was just like every other kid my age. Funnily enough, she said the same thing regarding my anxiety and depression. I remember thinking, at the time, does every kid really feel this way? And if so, what kind of world do we live in if that’s considered “normal?” I figured from the start that what she said was bullshit, but I couldn’t ignore the nagging suspicion that part of it could be true.
I spent a lot of time wondering if I was normal or if something was indeed wrong with me. I had a therapist that I could talk to about this, but they always wanted to speak to my mom as well so relying on them was pointless to me. She always told them I “made up my problems” during the car ride on the way there. I didn’t make them up, I just couldn’t talk about them. Aside from my mother, there wasn’t anybody willing to listen to me. Anytime I tried to reach out for someone to help, my pleas fell on deaf ears. It was like this since I was kid and I told myself I didn’t mind the lack of attention, but I couldn’t fight away the loneliness.
Up until my eighteenth birthday, I was practically clueless as to what I wanted to do with my life. I never put much thought into it, always thinking I’d die before anything good ever happened. But once I became an adult and graduated high school—which I barely did—I realized that life is what I want, not what others expect it to be. My mom wasn’t in control of me anymore. I was able to seek help for the issues that have been plaguing me throughout most of my life without her involvement. I got tested and diagnosed with ADHD and I’m now on medication for it. I also decided to pursue my dream career and go to school for photography. Sure, it took a couple years for me to decide that it’s what I really want to do, but it was a choice worth thinking over and I don’t regret a second of it.
I understand that life is ever-changing and that there will be ups and downs, that I will not always be happy with what I’m doing. Even so, where I am now—surrounded by friends and fulfilling my aspirations as a creator—is where I belong.
This is who I am, and I can’t wait to see who I will become.
#biography#my writing#about me#adhd#living with adhd#undiagnosed adhd#mental disorder#mental disability#self discovery#adhdlife#attention deficit hyperactivity disorder#writers on tumblr#writer#writing about life#myself#true story#mental health#this is who i am
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(sorry, but I had to highlight this sentence. It's such a mood hahaha) Yes, major respect for EVERYTHING he has done and accomplished so far. He is the reason I started exploring other kinds of media, became aware of how politics and society worked, started expressing myself - but I'm not gonna lie, I do miss this Trent Reznor. I miss Nine Inch Nails.
He needs to reconnect with his inner-cunty-unhinged-self FAST. We (old millennial here - hi!) have been deprived of it for FAR TOO LONG. And I can't wait to see how their new fans will react when experiencing ALL OF THIS, for the first time.
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Jokes aside, I know it will not be "like before" - but I have no doubts that it will be another masterpiece to add on to the collection. Do you guys remember/know HOW impactful, "blushing inducing giggling kicking our feet punching the air screaming ripping our hair off*" it was when «Closer» come out? IT WAS ALREADY 30 YEARS AGO! (*sorry, I couldn't help it)
And how thought provoking, mentally insane, sensible and smart 99.999% of his/their work is? With those insanely fast-paced intrumentals, or slow and chill inducing noise, that would perfectly accompany the lyrics? Those same lyrics that would always be overflowing with so much raw emotion, making it impossible for anyone to ignore. You could and you would feel all of it! All the love. All the hate. The rejection, dreams, doubts, criticism and political-social awareness. He would touch on issues such as mental health and finding your purpose; Talk about the never-ending wars endorsed by the USA's presidency and show us how easily manipulated society can be; How we're not aware, nor educated enough (himself included) on how those in power work; How the media and marketing could and would, strategically, release scandals or some good news, to the public - depending on the objective of the 1%; And how history forever repeats itself...
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(Speaking of Year Zero - Let us all join hands for one of MANY epic «fuck the system» instants that Mr. Reznor provided)
I'll shut up, I promise, but NIN/Trent Reznor is my roman empire. It's hard for me to shut up. And it brings back many emotions, and lots of memories (good and bad), ever since the first moment they came into my life. POV: you wait for everyone to be asleep, so you could sneak into the living room and turn on the TV. With a very unhealthy distance to the screen (sometimes I could feel/hear the static in my hair) you would watch Headbangers Ball or one those rock/metal mv segments that VH1 would broadcast, late into the night. I was a pre-teen, going through it all, and then some - to spice things up. Because the usual it that happens with the usual explosion of hormones, was not enough - not on my family. And during those very intense years, I found solace in them. Because Nine Inch Nails were equally - or even more - intense. And (thankfully) Trent Reznor still is.
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I followed their work, up close, for 14 years. But it was not in that closed-minded way nor fanatical at all. In fact, they already performed in my country multiple times but I was never able to check them live - for some kind of reason, at the time. Moreover, it was impossible to appreciate their art without being open other genres. I discovered a lot of new music, movies, artistic movements, etc., thanks to the incessant member's rotation and their musical influences. It was thanks to them I started paying more attention to the legendary David Bowie (my second refugee, only by chronological order, but number one in my life - sorry Trent haha) I mean, when I first saw «I am Afraid of Americans», I was speechless, blown away, DEAD. Again: the timing of this release, the meaning behind it... everything was done perfectly.
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Two amazing artists together, two chameleons, two musical geniuses that ALWAYS delivered!
And every time you would get new material from NIN, it would either make you feel 1) like «the system is fucked up» and you should to start a revolution 2) cry yourself to sleep or 3) have sex. (I laughed writing this last sentence - BUT IT'S TRUE!). Of course there is a multitude of ways to react to his art, but these 3 were the main ones - not gonna lie.
So even if you know him, the band or not, let me - a former NIN forum admin, back in 00s (oh shit, I just realised something * footnote) present to you: Trent Reznor, a musical monster, with (gratefully) a long as fuck career, that never stopped experimenting, from 1988 until now. With many awards under his belt - GRAMMY's, Academy Awards (Oscars), Emmy Awards, BAFTAs, Golden Globes Awards, and (finally!) Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induced. And even though these awards mean nothing, since they are now so easily credited to anyone, I doubt it was that an easy road, for this dude and his endless list of talented band members.
I'll leave now you, but not before sharing 2 of my favourite OST .done by them (since the original post is related to the amazing TRON + NIN news), and mentioning the Year Zero game [an alternate reality game (ARG)] that came out before the world was ready for it:
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You can (and should) also check this link if you want to know more about the RPG Year Zero: Nine Inch Nails - Year Zero | nin.wiki
And finally, that promised personal footnote:
I've just realised that even though I was no longer following them as thoroughly as before, it was thanks to that forum I start my current social media manager career. Now excuse me, while I chose that option number 2, as mentioned above, and cry a little.
nine inch nails and not just trenticus doing the soundtrack for the new TRON movie is actually so exciting. i need trent to get his ass back in that vocal booth and start singing like he’s rubbing his nipples like consider my ass SEATED in the theatres
…and then i remembered jared leto is in it 😔
#Trent Reznor#NIN#NINE INCH NAILS#soundtrack#Tron#Tron OST#Industrial Metal#Industrial Music#Industrial Rock#Atticus Ross#Robin Finck#Alessandro Cortini#Ilan Rubin#Chris Vrenna#Ron Musarra#Richard Patrick#Jeff Ward#James Woolley#Danny Lohner#Charlie Clouser#Jerome Dillon#Jeordie White#Aaron North#Josh Freese#Justin Meldal-Johnsen#Josh Eustis#Lisa Fischer#Sharlotte Gibson#estranhos sonhos#estranhossonhos
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Survey #406
“turned on all the lights, the tv, and the radio / still, i can’t escape the ghost of you”
Have you ever had an ulcer? No. Do you have any rare medical conditions? I believe AvPD is considered to be a rare mental disorder. Do you have to carry an epi pen? No. What color is your mailbox? I think it's black. I don't pay attention. Would you ever want a job working with animals? I'd love to. The thing is, without a degree in something, my duties working with animals would almost certainly involve cleaning up after them, which I am WAY too squeamish with fecal matter and vomit to do. It's extremely embarrassing, but I've never even been able to clean up after my own pets if they ever had an accident or got sick. I obviously couldn't do it with random animals. Did you have a good high school experience? It's... so odd, retrospecting on high school. In some ways, it was the best time of my life because of my memories with my friends and especially Jason, but at the time, I absolutely loathed it and was horribly depressed. But at least I saw a future for myself. I took better care of myself, all that stuff... That Brittany would be fucking mortified to get a glimpse at who she becomes. Have you ever watched any Monty Python movies? Which one is your favourite? I know I've seen some of at least one. Would you ever get a "below the belt" piercing? Nah. If a couple is married, do you think there should be any legal punishment if one person cheats? No...? Like don't get me wrong at all, I am firmly against cheating under any circumstance, but for there to be legal retribution seems extreme. What is the greatest source of anxiety for you? My future. Are there any hallucinogenic drugs you’d like to try? Nah man. What made you choose your current job? I'm unemployed. Do you feel uncomfortable on the dance floor? Or are you confident with you dancing abilities? Oh hunny, you won't see me on the dance floor. Unless MAYBE if the Cha-Cha Slide comes on, or the Cupid Shuffle. That's as skilled as I get, haha. Is it exciting to you to imagine having an affair with a teacher? ... No??????????? It's fucking creepy. Adultery isn't exciting. Do you like your smile? No. I absolutely look high when I smile. What is something silly that you believed to be true when you were a child? That I could invoke the traits of any animal, which I just referred to as my "animal powers." Like for example, if I "called upon" a kangaroo, I could jump higher. I was a weird fucking kid. Have you ever been in a relationship with someone you completely connected with on a mental/emotional level, but did not find physically attractive in any way? Was physical intimacy a problem? How did it work out? I was never really physically attracted to Girt, but it was never a big deal to me. I cared way more about his personality and how much he cared about me. We were never really "intimate," per se, we just would give each other a simple peck. It didn't work out, but not at all because of physical things. He was just too much of a brother to me. What classic or cult movie have you never seen and have no desire to? Hm. I know there's some, but I'm blanking. Does The Human Centipede count here? Like everyone knows about it, so I would assume it does. I have ZERO desire to see a second of that repulsive movie. Have you ever taken a real liking to a band/singer you never ever....ever thought you'd enjoy? Maybe Melanie Martinez? Her voice is so cutesy, as are some of her songs, but I really enjoy how dark her lyrics can be. People who know me would probably be shocked to hear I thoroughly like her. After seeing the movie Avatar did you suddenly view our Earth as ugly and/or boring? If you have not seen the movie, do you think it’s worth your time? I've seen a little bit of it, but I never finished it because I was very tired and chose to go to sleep. I actually do want to see the full thing, though; it looks very good. How helpful are your parents to you? Would they help you to pay for your first apartment? College? Where does the line end? My parents are truly incredible with helping me the best they are capable of. They helped me pay for school, among other things, but I doubt they'd help with my first home, whenever that is. I wouldn't really want them to, either, because that's my responsibility for sure. Do you like playing video games? If so, what do you usually play? I love video games, and horror is absolutely my favorite genre. I also love fantasy games though with deep stories. I've never been the best at playing super long games, like Final Fantasy games, even if I'm seriously invested in the story, though. I burn out. Have you ever sewn a garment? No. Are there any plants in the room you’re in? No. I don't bother with plants. What’s your highest level of education? Some college. What’s the most important thing in any kind of relationship? Proper communication, probably. If you wear lipstick, what’s your favourite colour to wear? I only really put on lipstick to occasionally take a picture, and it's pretty much always black. Is your style feminine, masculine or somewhere in the middle? Somewhere in the middle, I guess? Are there a lot of dragonflies around your house? I've never seen one around this house, and I doubt I ever will because it's too urban. When we lived in the woods, however, I saw them a lot. Of all the Disney couples, which one would you say is your favorite? Kovu and Kiara came to my mind first. Do you think it is cute/funny or disgraceful when a child swears? It's shocking, more than anything. You don't expect it. I don't believe it should be encouraged, but only because children just don't know when swearing really isn't appropriate. If/when you have a baby, how do you think you would want to decorate its room? I don't want kids, but I'll entertain the question and assume this is before the child is born and develops interests. Whether it's a boy or a girl, I'd probably go with a cutesy animal theme. Would you more likely buy a shirt with a picture of Mickey/Minnie Mouse, a Winnie the Pooh character, Snoopy, Hello Kitty, or Tweety Bird on it? None, honestly. Perhaps like, a gothic Hello Kitty. Of all the states you have been to, which one did you have the best experiences? Putting aside the AWFUL heat and humidity, I probably had the best time in Florida. I loved all the palm trees, seeing so many lizards on my grandma's patio, and going to Disney World was a blast. I liked that swimming pools were always warm, too. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you regret losing your virginity to who you lost it to? No. I was madly in love with him, so no regrets on that. If your boyfriend ever hit you, would you dump him? HA, BYYYYEEEEEEEEE MOTHERFUCKER. ZERO hesitation. Did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? He did, but I honestly don't know if he meant it. Is there anything you want to say to someone? It'll probably go unsaid for the rest of my life. If they were to televise a live execution, would you watch it? Yikes, hard pass. If you could be the president of the USA, would you be willing to do it? Noooo thank you. Did you wake up in the middle of the night? I always do. Does your animal sleep with you? My cat does. Venus obviously sleeps in her terrarium, but she is in my room. Last color you dyed your hair? Red. Will you keep your last name when you get married? Very unlikely. I don't like my last name. What are you looking forward to? Hearing back again from the woman whose wedding I shot literally two years ago. I thought she ghosted me, but she messaged me the other day about seeing the pictures again and going through them to actually buy some. I don't know why the hell it took her two years, but whatever, I guess? I spent two whole hours resizing the files and re-adding the preview watermark (I deleted the OneDrive folder for space forever ago, but I have the files still), so I hate to sound like an ass, but she better buy something. Between sweating my ass off on location when I shot the wedding, editing those 100+ pictures two years ago, and now re-doing the previews, I have invested so much goddamn time into them that yeah, I think I have the right to be pretty damn salty if I don't hear back from her again. If your significant other cut sex out of your relationship for any reason, what would you do? It'd be whatever. I mean sure, that sort of intimacy is a very special part of serious romantic relationships to me, but I can live without it pretty easily. What was the last thing you said out loud? "Thank you for dinner" to my mom. She brought home Hardee's. Who are your godparents? I don't believe I have any. Do you like Gushers? omggggg yes Can you touch your nose with your tongue? No. Is there a particular sport you follow on a regular basis? Nope. Are you waiting for something to arrive in the mail? No. Think of the last film you watched. Who was your favourite character? Uhhhh what was it... The Shining, I think? I didn't really develop a favorite. Do you have a friend whose name starts with ‘L’? Describe him/her. Lisa. <3 She's one of my WoW friends. She'll talk your ear off, but I don't really mind. She is SO sweet and caring for other people and loves to cook. She recently had triplets, and seeing as she had a son only months before accidentally getting pregnant with the triplets, she's obviously been MEGA busy so we haven't talked much lately. When you’re being kissed do you like it when they hold your face? Yeah, but not too early on. Doing that has a promise of seriousness and passion in it to me, and it would probably weird me out if that happened too soon. Last thing that made you cry? My health. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah. I don't think it would look good on me. Do you enjoy being outdoors? If it's cool outside and I have a place to sit when I want to, yeah. Do people tell you that you have an accent? Only sometimes. It's definitely not as bad as your average Southerner, though. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? Ha, what nice timing. I think they're very pretty, but I believe I went over in a recent survey how I don't encourage their usage in consideration of veterans with PTSD as well as being conscious of animals and the absolute terror it can cause for them. What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? So my sister is a children's social worker, and she shares a LOT of stories with Mom (and me, if I'm present) that I can't listen to. The ones that involve pedophilia and/or rape, especially from the child's very own parent(s), I just cannot listen to. Period. It's so fucking repulsive and just unimaginable to me how even a monster of a human can commit something THAT goddamn vile. What’s your opinion of root beer? I'm not a big fan. I mean I can tolerate drinking some of it, but I don't really *enjoy* it. Have you ever seen The Breakfast Club, and what’s your opinion of it? I have, and I didn't get the appeal at all. Did you have a Furby when you were younger? Oh god, I did. Those things are so creepy. If you had a baby boy, what would you name him? Damien, most likely.
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“There have been prosecutors that refused to seat Black jurors, refused to prosecute lynching, disproportionately condemned young Black men to death row and looked the other way in the face of police brutality,” Politico reported.
“It matters who is in those rooms. I knew I had to be in those rooms. We have to be in those rooms even when there aren’t many like us there.” Kamala Harris makes history
What Kamala Harris Did In Those Rooms: Or 50 Criminal Justice Reforms & Accomplishments (link includes corresponding articles)
1. Deputy DA- Kamala Harris Opposed Prop 21 (passed with 62%) which increased criminal penalties for crimes committed by youth and incorporated many youth offenders into the adult criminal justice system.
2. Deputy DA- Kamala Harris co-founded the Coalition to End the Exploitation of Kids, to provide legal and health services to sexually exploited children, including teenage “prostitutes”
3. As member of the board of trustees of SF MOMA, Kamala Harris created the 1st of its kind in the US “Matches” program, which pairs at-risk youth with mentors to expose them to art and broaden their horizons.
4.DA- Kamala Harris created Back on Track program to help drug offenders re-enter society. Provided vocational training, counseling, parenting services, etc. Substantially reduced recidivism for participants
5.DA- Kamala Harris refused to seek the death penalty even when pressured by members of her own party due to racial disparities in how it is applied 6.DA- Created LGBT Hate Crime Unit
7.DA- Kamala Harris worked to get the first safe house in San Francisco for girls who wanted out of the sex trade 8.DA- Changed underage women/men from being treated as prostitutes to being treated as victims
9.DA/AG- Kamala Harris helped found the Center for Youth Wellness which works to improve the health of children exposed to childhood trauma
10.AG- Kamala Harris created the Bureau of Children’s Justice (BCJ) to streamline enforcement of laws that uphold children’s rights & pursue policies that improve the lives of children Unroll available on Thread Reader
11.AG- BCJ partnered w/USC to link data from the DOJ & Social Services’ case mgmt systems to enable researchers for the 1st time to better determine the overlap b/w CA’s child welfare &juvenile justice populations
12.AG- Kamala Harris’ BCJ worked to diagnose challenges in California’s juvenile justice data systems, in partnership with the Governance Lab at New York University
13.AG- BCJ worked to deliver previously unavailable juvenile justice data (from the Juvenile Court Probation Statistical Sys) to researchers at the Public Policy Institute of CA, Harvard U of Chicago,& UC Berkeley 14.AG-BCJ collaborate with the Judicial Council to develop dashboards for judges to make better decisions about adjudicated juveniles. 15.AG-Awarded Second Chance Grant to expand Back on Track to LA as AG
16.AG- As Attorney General CREATED the Division of Recidivism Reduction and Re-Entry (DR3) to reduce the number of repeat offenders
17.AG- DR3 partnered on the Court of College (C2C). The program is designed to divert young offenders from future criminal behavior through cognitive behavioral intervention & exposure to higher education
18.AG- Kamala Harris’ DR3 partnered on the Career Pathways program. It’s an out-of-custody, recidivism-reduction program that provides resources to a probation-supervised population.
19.AG- Kamala Harris’ CA DOJ was accepted into the natl Defending Childhood State Policy Initiative; a cross-sector team of state leaders to develop shared priorities to prevent/address children’s exposure to violence.
20.AG- Created the Truancy Intervention Panel to implement best practices for truancy prevention.
21.AG- BCJ in partnership w/the Ad Council & CA Endowment, conducted a study/designed a public education toolkit to help educators/community leaders communicate w/parents on the importance of kids being in school
22.AG- Created SmartJustice, a new database and analytical tool to track repeat offenders and offense trends to provide counties with more effective options in developing anti-recidivism initiatives.
23.AG- Kamala Harris issued guidance to CA law enforcement agencies outlining new responsibilities to track/report citizen complaints against peace officers, including complaints alleging racial/identity profiling
24.AG- Supported AB71 (which became law) requiring all CA law enforcement agencies to collect data on shootings & use of force by a civilian/police against the other that result in serious bodily injury or death.
25.AG- Created the first Commission on Peace Officer Standards and Training (“POST”) certified law enforcement training on both procedural justice and implicit bias, the first of its kind in the country.
26.AG- Instituted a body camera policy for all DOJ special agent personnel conducting field operations.
27.AG- Convened community members, incl. roundtables w/HS students from South/East LA. The topics were experiences with police and ideas on how to improve the relationship between youth & law enforcement.
28.AG-Created the 21st Century Policing Working Group to foster discussion regarding implicit bias and building community trust.
29.AG- Kamala Harris created OpenJustice, a 1st of-its-kind criminal justice open data initiative providing unprecedented data. Provides key criminal justice indicators and transparency Unroll available on Thread Reader
30.AG- Kamala Harris opened a civil pattern or practice investigations into the Kern County Sheriff’s Office 31.AG-Kamala Harris opened a civil pattern or practice investigations into Bakersfield Police Department
32.AG-Kamala Harris Created the Racial Profiling Advisory Board Unroll available on Thread Reader
33.AG- Kamala Harris issued guidance outlining the law enforcement agencies responsibilities to assist immigrant crime victims in applying for U-visas.
34.AG- Kamala Harris enlisted major law firms to provide pro-bono legal services to for unaccompanied children entering the US. She supported legislation to provide $3M to qualified CA nonprofits to provide legal aid.
35.AG-Kamala Harris sponsored Bill that allows human trafficking victims to petition court to set aside a conviction of solicitation/prostitution.
36.AG- Kamala Harris eliminated longstanding rape kit backlog of over 1,300 untested kits and significantly reduced processing times. Received the US DOJ’s Award for Professional Innovation in Victim Services
37.AG- Kamala Harris sponsored AB1644 to establish 4yr pilot to assist elementary schools in providing mental health services to students, prioritizing schools in communities with high levels of childhood trauma/ adversity
50 Times #Kamala Accomplished/Advocated for #CriminalJusticeReform 38.AG- #KamalaHarris supported Senate Bill 1143 to significantly limit the practice of isolating juveniles in room confinement. The bill was signed into law and took effect in 2018.
39.AG- Kamala Harris supported AB 1840 to require that state agencies give preference to homeless youth and formerly incarcerated youth when hiring interns and student assistants
40.AG- Kamala Harris supported AB2390 to provide a legislative fix to 2010 legislation that inadvertently removed a mechanism for juvenile offenders with good records on supervised probation to obtain honorable discharge status
41.AG- Kamala Harris supported AB1843 to ensure that juvenile records are protected from unfair and undue inquiry during employer background checks.
42.SEN- Kamala Harris reintroduced (along with colleagues) the National Criminal Justice Commission Act. Creates a National Criminal Justice Commission to review & propose reforms to address the most pressing issues facing the Criminal Justice system.
43.SEN- Kamala Harris sponsored bill that would legalize marijuana; expunge prior convictions, require re-sentencing hearings for those still under supervision;& invest money in communities adversely impacted by the War on Drugs
44.SEN- Kamala Harris sponsored the Pretrial Integrity and Safety Act of 2017 — to encourage states to reform or replace the practice of money bail.
45.SEN- Kamala Harris sponsored legislation to increase funding for public defenders, reduce their workload, and provide pay parity between prosecutors and public defenders
46.SEN- Kamala Harris introduced legislation to limit the use of solitary confinement. Also pressed Bureau of Prisons to take measures to address the significant increase in the use of restricted housing.
47.SEN- Kamala Harris sponsored legislation to end discrimination in public housing for offenders released from prison
48.SEN- Kamala Harris sponsored legislation to reform the treatment of incarcerated women in order to reduce the negative impact incarceration has on the family of women behind bars, especially their children
49.SEN-Kamala Harris sponsored legislation to establish the Commission on the Social Status of Black Men & Boys. The Commission will investigate/provide recommendations to improve the disparities Black men experience.
50.SEN- Kamala Harris worked with civil rights groups (like the NAACP LDF) to strengthen the First Step.
MY QUESTION TO HER CRITICS: CAN YOU DO BETTER?
#Kamala Harris#Accomplishments#Those Rooms=The Lion's Den#LGBTQ Rights#Black Lives Matter#California#Georgia#nevada#Arizona#Black Men#Black Women#Recidivism#Civil Rights#Financial Rights
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Anyone got time for a rant? Only joking, still gonna do it anyway.
May be TW to some -
Last March, I started to see a counsellor because I couldn’t deal with moving back home nor could I process my BPD diagnosis 6 month before hand. One thing I would mainly talk about is my home living - so I ended up moving out like 75% (I would stay at my mothers every other weekend or so kinda and majority of my belongings were still in her house) so I was living with my partner at the time. We were both in bad places - story behind that isn’t relevant. But for the majority of our relationship I was in and out of work due to my mental and physical health (at the beginning when we met each other we both has amazing jobs - I was basically an office manager and he were in the Navy). So, while we were together and I was staying there I wasn’t paying him rent and he also didn’t have a job. I would give my mum rent even though I didn’t fucking live there majority of the time - why I did that, I have no fucking idea! I mean, I would contribute - I would do house work and I would do majority of the food shopping (1 big shop and then a couple little ones and then he would get extra bits - because out of £275; £100 to my mum, £50-£100 on shopping and £20 phone bill I wasn’t let with much). We split up March 2018 so I had to move back in with my mum, my health was getting pretty bad so I had to go onto disability because I really couldn’t afford my travel to the hospital 5 days out of 7, still having to buy my own food shopping, I needed to get stuff to help me with my illnesses and that’s what the disability was for. (I’m not on it anymore because my physical health is a lot better than what it was and I’m working). Moving back in with my mum and sister was pretty daunting tbh. Because I suffer with mental health that requires me to have control to control my demons, I was petrified. I knew that moving back home I would be saying goodbye to my control that I had when I was living with my ex. That’s why I ended up putting on like 3 and a half stone and I’m trying not to lose it unhealthily. So, rewind a few year - I mean like 10 or so hahah. When I was at school, my mum was fairly strict when it came to chores - don’t get me wrong, I knew I had to do them and wouldn’t necessarily complain... only times I would complain are when: 1) she wouldn’t allow me to leave for school because I was running late (so, if my education wasn’t already at risk because of the bullying and I never went to lesson because they did fuck all about the cunts at that place, my mum would jeopardise my schooling because of her fucking dishes weren’t put away) 2) if I was staying at a friends house, she would get me to come back before mid day to do my chores. Sometimes she would allow me to do them the next day but it would be a massive argument. It’s like I wasn’t allowed any freedom. When I was 16 she would literally scream at me for not having a job. We would get into really bad arguments because of my mental health. If I came to her about how I felt, that I wanted to kms or sh, she would literally scream in my face. Because of my lack of upbringing by my ‘parents’ I am very independent, and I’m a lot more mature than other people my age, even people older than me. This is because when my sister came along it was all about her from the get go. Over the last 18 year I have watched my sister be molly cuddled, been made the favourite child, and I have just generally been pushed aside and watched her receive love, affection and attention I lacked since my mum took me 250 miles away from my grandparents (the only people that gave me love). And my mum says it’s because my grandmother never gave her love and attention so she didn’t know how to do it with me... Now, I can totally understand that... BUT DON’T FUCKING RUB IT IN MY FACE WHEN YOU DECIDE TO HAVE ANOTHER FUCKING CHILD WHEN YOU CAN’T FUCKING SHOW LOVE TO YOUR FIRST ONE. Or was it because you were having relations with a married man and he didn’t want fuck all to do with me as you say and you hated him and I remind you of him? Over the last 18 year, I have watched my mum happily choose my sister over me. Whatever she wants she gets. If the shit that she’s done or not done - if I did that, I would get a fucking bollocking! To the point I would get a beating sometimes (o and sometimes if we were arguing she wouldn’t hesitate fucking climbing over my bed and punching me while I’m in the corner of my room crying and my fucking friend is stood there, she didn’t give a fuck). It’s getting to the point now, I have so much fucking shit I have going on and she couldn’t care less. I am so stressed with life, my boss leaving, my mental health, the struggles of relapsing, my course work for a future I don’t think I even want anymore... and it’s like as long as my fucking incompetent sister is okay then nothing else matters. My counsellor said to me “what’s it like living back at home?” My fucking response was “I feel like I’m the owner of a snow globe. I look into the snow globe and I’m not there and I shake it, everything looks so perfect and beautiful. But if I am in the snow globe and I shake it, it doesn’t fucking work”. Correct me if I’m wrong but, family aren’t supposed to make you feel like that when living with them. Family aren’t supposed to make you feel like outcast. Mother’s aren’t supposed to allow all this fucking shit happen to their child. Once all this fucking bullshit is over, and things start getting back to normal I’m fucking leaving this place. I’m going back home up north. At least I will be around family that actually give a fuck.
Sorry for the rant. Probably makes fuck all sense. If you got to the end, thank you for reading and love you. I’m out xo
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Perfect Imperfections
Pairing: Seokjin x Reader Oneshot (established relationship AU)
Word Count: 3591
Genre: Mainly fluff, mentions of angst and smut
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of poor mental health and self – harm, mentions of smut, poor body image and low self – esteem, Jin’s dad jokes ofc
A/N: This one is a personal one for me tbh but please remember that the models in magazines do not define what you should look like. Body image is a complex thing but please do not let it define you. You are more than what you look like! If you do have poor mental health or low body self – esteem, please talk to somebody. Whether it a friend, family or teacher please talk. And if you feel you can’t or just need to rant, please don’t hesitate to message me!
Today was the day from hell as far as you were concerned. Your meeting for the group project had been a mess because people hadn’t done their allocated work (honestly, whoever invented group projects was clearly the devil), your retail therapy had left you in tears as you found out the harsh way that you had to go one size bigger to fit into a nice pair of jeans that you had been eyeing for weeks and lastly you had the customers from hell who thought that it’d be a good idea to come in 5 minutes before closing “for a couple of things” then proceeded to walk out half an hour later with nearly £100 worth for a dinner party. To top it all off, your umbrella had broken leading you to walk the 15-minute journey back to your shared apartment with your best friend, who was back at home for reading week.
As soon as you got into your apartment, you huffed as you threw your bag on the floor before changing into one of your boyfriends’ t – shirt which you had not so discreetly stolen two months ago despite promising to give it back. You just so desperately wanted to drink some hot chocolate curled up in your bed whilst binge watching Black Mirror as you walked towards your kitchen, the idea of hot chocolate making the day somewhat better at least. However, staring at the empty contents of your fridge you were reminded that payday was still a week away as you let out a loud groan. You were sure that the day couldn’t be any worse.
“Y/N!” Your saviour had apparently arrived and you couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh as you heard him shut the door behind him.
“Jin?” You peered your head from the doorway to the sight of your boyfriend holding four bags of what you presumed to be food. In the 2 years that you had been dating, you had come to learn that bags that Jin held were of food more often than not.
“A little help jagi?” He gestured to the both his hand as you rushed to help him.
“What’s all this?” You laughed, leading both of you down the hallway and into your shared kitchen.
“I know that payday isn’t until next week so got you some food since you had to pay for your phone that you broke.” You bit your lip as you remembered what your idiot best friend had done. Namjoon, your loveable friend who was stuck in the depths of Freud with you during Psychology module, had managed to trip up the stars leading to your apartment after you leant him your phone since he had broken it a week prior. He had the guts to bang the door to your room with a sheepish smile as he handed you the smashed content of your phone. “But hey, at least I can add ‘falling up the stairs’ as a skill on my CV” he had grinned. In retaliation you made him buy you a hot chocolate the next day as you both ran to your 9am lecture.
“You are a godsend Kim Seokjin.” You leaned up to kiss him before the pair of you set the bags on the kitchen table. Both had got into your roles, after all it hadn’t been the first time that you two went food shopping before coming back to cook together or ordering take - out.
“Just like my face?” You merely rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin painting your lips after all, dad jokes and cringey one – liners were the norm in your relationship. At first you had hated them, finding them borderline narcissistic and arrogant, yet you had come to love them. They had given you reasons to crack a smile when you had been crying or had annoyingly been the reason as to why you gave in so quickly in forgiving him after a fight. It was over for you when he came delivering those one – liners as well as some plate of food.
You had silently chosen Chinese as you put some food on a plate, taking them in front of the TV, as Jin poured some wine before joining you. He had seemed to just know you needed alcohol tonight, almost being his gift to know how you were feeling. Maybe it was your body language, or maybe it was from a general vibe or possibly subtle changes in expression including the way your eyes just seemed to be down as opposed to lighting up. Whatever it was, it was times like these where you were grateful.
Small talk about your respective days was made as you quietly ate whilst you watched some rubbish reality show on the TV. Jin moaned about his annoying boss – Min Yoongi – saying that it wasn’t his fault that his boss didn’t appreciate his dad jokes and told him to “shut his mouth and get on with the job” or risk being fired. Your boyfriend valued his monthly pay check over dad jokes, albeit begrudgingly. Yet despite his talking and the meaningless background chatter from the TV, the weight of the day came crushing down on you. In fact the past week of rushed assignments, rude customers and just bad luck in general weighed down heavily on you as you picked at your food, taking out the frustrations on the innocent chow mein as you sighed heavily.
Ever the observant boyfriend, he stopped eating as he turned his body towards you, eyebrows creased in worry at your lack of appetite. “Jagi, you ok?”
“Hmm?”
“You ok? I know that you prefer the other place but it’s closed on a Monday so I had no choice but to go this one. If you want something else I could heat up- hey why are you crying?” His hands immediately put both your plates on the mahogany coffee table before enveloping you into a hug, his hand rubbing up and down your back opening the dam of tears even more as they soaked through his dress shirt. He said nothing, the only sound that filled the room being the trashy TV and your now quieting sobs, yet it was perfect, his silence saying everything you needed to hear, his body being enough. His grip on you never loosened as tears began to subside, his shirt probably thanking you as the patch on his chest now clearly damp, white cotton sticking to your boyfriend’s broad chest.
Once your sobs had ended Jin silently went to the kitchen to get you a cup of water before repositioning you on the sofa so that you were now directly opposite him.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s just this week, it’s been so…”
“Shit?” He offered, a sad smile painting his lips as he looked at you yet he didn’t push. He didn’t prod for more information but just let you nod before you sighed.
“That group meeting I had for the presentation in two weeks?”
“Hmm?”
“None of them did their parts! So I have to stay up a couple of times this week to make sure it’s ready. I had an annoying customer so I had to stay behind to close up and then my umbrella broke on the way home.” You stopped to take an intake of breath, your emotions getting on top of you as you rambled. “Then the jeans that I saw from our date two weeks ago? I couldn’t fit and that was the last one.” You cried, ignoring how trivial your worries seemed in the grand scale of things. But added to the weight of your university work, overbearing parents asking you what your life plans were (people saying that you’d know by your second year were liars. Each and everyone of them), stressing about your lack of student loan which barely covered your rent let alone other bills as well as wondering whether it’d be worth it to do further postgraduate education or just to go into work – everything had piled up. And it was today that the proverbial dam broke. No, it shattered. Yet Seokjin, your perfect boyfriend Jin, smiled as he pulled you to him once again as he gently whispered comforting words into your ear.
“Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.” He whispered, gently dragging you by the hand to the bathroom. You were confused, your bath had broke by a drunken fresher a couple of weeks ago so apart from a few towels, the sink, shower and the body length mirror, you couldn’t fathom why you boyfriend would pull you into it. “Take off your clothes.”
“I’m not up for shower sex today oppa…”
“I’m not! I promise.” He sat on the edge of the sink as he watched you strip, hesitantly albeit as you became more and more self – conscious as more skin showed, inevitably seeing your body despite wanting to avoid looking in the mirror. You were bigger than most, after binge eating when your depression had been at its worst during your teenage years, curves reflecting in the mirror instead of a thin stick figure that graced annoyingly the covers of magazines everywhere. And another thing to notice were the scars that had accompanied your growing figure, a testament to the sudden growth from the hoards of crisps, pizzas and chips (in your defence, unhealthy food shouldn’t taste so good). Your boyfriend, sending small nods of encouragement from his reflection, had been great, stressing that he loved you for your personality, ability to laugh at his always awful dad jokes as well as you volunteering to be his taster for his cooking inventions. He had stressed that he didn’t care about you scars and that you were curvy, instead complimenting you when you wore dresses to dates and saying that they accentuated your curves in the right places. And of course this all continued when you had sex, him taking the time to whisper that you looked amazing, kissing your scars as he marvelled and treated your body like you were some goddess.
Seokjin had walked behind you now that you were naked, aside from your underwear and bra, his hands stopping you from taking them off. His hand rested at your hips as his brown orbs met your in the reflection.
“What do you see Y/N?” He murmured, his breath tickling your neck, your eyes dropping in shame at your reflection, because what you saw was definitely not what your boyfriend saw. Where you saw yourself as big, incomparable to other girls and riddled with scars, a testament to your past and ongoing struggle with mental health, your boyfriend didn’t. The thought that you weren’t good enough for Seokjin had run through your head at lightening speed yet again, as it occupied your mind frequently. He was a hand crafted sculpture with his ridiculously perfect jawline as girls and boys would always comment on his perfect proportions (where was the lie though?). Wherever you walked with him, women would swoon as men would either send him an appreciative glance or daggers, whilst you just held your head down as you silently walked along. It was those times in which that you couldn’t help but think that he was more physically suited for someone who was at least on the same par as him as well. Two years in and it obviously crossed your mind, that breaking up with him would somehow be saving him almost and would save you snide remarks after he would drop you off at campus. And quite frankly, days like this only made you think more seriously about it.
“Jin I-“
“No Y/N, I want you to have a look and tell me what you see.” He gently lifted your head so that you were facing your reflection. You were ashamed, hand instinctively hugging your tummy, as you let out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t like it Jin. I just see scars and stretch marks.” You smiled sadly as you met his gaze in the mirror, turning slightly so that you were touching him, just so ready to sink into his embrace but he didn’t let you.
“Oh Y/N… Have you not learnt anything from the last two years?” He sighed, turning your head so you saw yourself in the mirror. “I love all of you.” He knelt down to the floor, never breaking eye contact with you. He kissed your ankle, just a pepper of one, before smiling fondly at you. “I love your ankles, even though you scare me to death with the amount times you roll over them going up the stairs. Not forgetting the way that I love your legs because they look sexy especially in dresses.”
Seokjin’s hands travelled up to the inside of your thighs, you flinching by reflex, slowly and gently caressing your stretch marks. “I love your thighs. You may get jealous of other girls who have a natural thigh gap but I love the way they are. I love that they’re thick because I love that I can warm up my hands in between them during the winter.” Another kiss. “I love that they jiggle.” Another kiss. “And I love it when I run my hands over them when you’re riding me on the sofa whilst we give up on some shitty rom – com. Or when you thigh ride me. Take your pick.” He winked, making you giggle a little, rolling your eyes at his comment along with a slight blush of your cheeks, for said riding had happened less than a week ago. “Hey don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to be serious and romantic here Y/N!” Anyone could tell that it was a light scolding, the crinkle in the corner of his eye showing his true thoughts.
Hands travelling to your ass, grabbing them before placing a kiss one on each cheek. “Don’t get me started on your ass woman. I’m more of a boob man but wow Y/N.” A small smirk riding his lips as he sent another of his signature winks to you in the mirror. “The way they jiggle when you’re exercising in your leggings that hug you so perfectly. I’ll tell you a secret Y/N – I lie when I say that I have work to do and come into your living room to do it, I just love the view from behind. Especially your squats.” He kissed his fingers like an Italian chef and added a “bellissimo” in his quite frankly awful Italian accent earning a small laugh again, more sincere this time, the effects of his actions immediately having an effect on you.
“Your stomach. And before you start complaining, I love it despite what you think.” His frown was enough to tell you not to interrupt his grand speech and he peppered loads of kisses on your midriff. “You may be bigger than normal but that means you give the best hugs Y/N! I come to yours after a hard day at work because people, especially Min Yoongi, can be a bitch sometimes and I feel so comforted by your hugs. You don’t even have to say anything – it’s a gift! Also, I just love you because you don’t complain about any of the food I cook for you.” He grinned, making eye contact with you again. You were just about to interrupt, wanting to make a point about the time he practically burnt the food but put it down to “enthusiastically crisp” when he shut you up by standing up to give you a small peck on the lips. It was definitely effective for sure. “And the most important thing Y/N – if you’re heavier than average people then it’ll be harder to kidnap you. You can’t leave me Y/N! You’re stuck with me jai.” A peck on the cheeks made you smile again as he went to stand behind you, locking eyes with you again in the mirror.
“And only coming ahead of your ass by a teeny bit is your boobs. You know how I feel about this Y/N… I just love them. I love sleeping on them when I’m ill or tired, I love kissing them and leaving hickeys,” He stopped only to make a point on wriggling his eyebrows. “and I love the way they bounce when you ride me or when I’m on top. I love it when you come home and take your bra off and you sometimes unknowingly let out a sigh because you hate the underwire or when I find you sometimes just holding your boobs like when we watch a film or just whenever.” Your cheeks grew at that, damn your boyfriend for being observant. He kissed them each before his kisses travelled to your neck, breath tickling it.
“Ahhh your neck. I love it when you get flustered in the mornings because you’re either trying to find the right shade of concealer or find a turtleneck top that’ll cover the hickeys that I leave which you make the most adorable moan every time I do. And I’ll never be able to get over the fact that you trust me so much to allow me to press down on your neck slightly during rough sex Y/N. I know that opening up hasn’t been easy for you, and that trust doesn’t come easily, but trusting me to do that is something that I really take to be a privilege and I hope you know that.” A few kisses on your neck punctuated the end of that.
“Now to your face. Hmmm shall we start from your eyes? They say that the eyes are windows to the soul and with you that couldn’t be more truthful with you. Your eyes light up whenever you talk about the disabled kids that you volunteer with or whenever you talk about Tom Holland,” You didn’t miss the roll of his eyes at the latter half of that sentence but then who could resist the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman? “not forgetting when your eyebrows furrow when you concentrate. Then there’s your lips, your glorious lips! They’re plump and kissable which makes it so hard for me Y/N, you don’t understand!” He gave them a peck, leaving you wanting more of course. “Your cheeks! Are so squishable and cute! I love the way they blush even if you don’t because when you do you become the most adorable girlfriend in the world and even more, you’re mine!” His smile was wide enough to light up the universe at this rate. God you really loved Kim Seokjin.
Lastly, as both of his hands held your wrists, you knew what the next thing would be. “I love your wrists because they tell a story about you. Each and every scar that you may hate teach me something about you. To you it shows your struggles, but to me it shows how incredibly strong you are. It shows me that despite it being some of the hardest and darkest years of your life, you are the bravest person I know for seeking help from your university counselling service. Not only that but having the courage to tell your friends and family and then cutting the people out of your life who only laughed at you for it shows you’re putting yourself first for once and that makes me so incredibly happy because after giving so much for others, it’s the least you deserve.” He pauses to see a lone tear falling down your face and only kisses the scars on your wrists, no words being spoken.
“You are my inspiration Y/N. You are the reason that I get up to go to work every morning so that I can save up to spend our future together. Because even though you had a hard past, you came out so much stronger and I will try my damn hardest to make sure that your future is pain – free as possible. I promise Y/N because I love all of you. I love your imperfections and I love your perfections. I love the things that you’re bad at and equally, the things you excel at. Because we’re partners in crime and we do and will complete each other. And if you ever fall back into your dark place and your demons come to haunt you, then we’ll face it together. We’ll go to therapy or if you just need a break from everything then we’ll go away for a week somewhere. Whatever happens I will be with you Y/N and simply because I love all of you.” He took a breath, standing in front of you, in front of your reflection, so that you were facing each other.
“Seokjin, I… I don’t know what to say.” Your tears kept streaming down and sniffles echoed in the bathroom because you really were lucky to have him.
“Then don’t. Just know that I love all of you and that’ll be enough.” He kissed your forehead before pulling you in for a hug.
“Just thank you Seokjin. Thank you for everything.” You whispered, tears soaking his shirt for the second time that night. Yet you felt incredibly happy. You were happy that in despite of everything, you were loved, something that you couldn’t have fathomed years ago. You were so incredibly loved by the man that held you that you knew that you’d face everything together.
“Anything for you.”
“But you really had to mention your jealousy for Tom Holland?”
#bts#bts fic#seokjin fic#seokjin fluff#seokjin angst#seokjin smut#bts writing#bts fanfic#seokjin writing#established relationship au
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Andy writ large
Several people have sent me links to the New Yorker article in which Ian Parker exposes author/editor Dan Mallory as having lied, gaslighted people, and engaged in other manipulative behaviors for many years in order to further his career. When confronted, Mallory tried to blame it all on mental illness. Anons have been discussing this on tf-talk and FFA, noting that Mallory sounds a lot like "the prestige drama version of Thanfiction", and I have to agree. I've written several times in the past about people who reminded me and others of Andy (Aiden Sinclair/Richard Outhier, Travis Aaron Wade, Kevin Spacey, Teri Hoffman and Tyler Deaton), and the similarities in this case are even more striking than any of those. So here are the things that stood out to me in Parker's article. This is a pretty long list, so I've broken it down into several sections for readability.
Generally manipulative behavior:
Tom Scott described Mallory, at their first meeting, as being self-assured and nonchalant in a way that (to me, as a reader) seemed studied. He also said that Mallory casually bragged about his success in a way that left him feeling charmed rather than nonplussed or annoyed. This matches up with several accounts I've read of people’s first impressions of Andy when he was in the LotR fandom.
Both Andy and Dan Mallory tend to get personal with strangers quickly and to overshare – e.g., the "lighthearted debate" at a festival in which Mallory abruptly got serious and spoke frankly (lying) about his alleged history of ECT. This kind of oversharing tends to elicit sympathy from listeners and to make them feel that this person is being genuine and vulnerable with them, which makes them more inclined to open up in turn. This is something that Andy was doing as recently as last year, but he misjudged his audience some of the time and they just found it off-putting.
They frequently engage in self-deprecating humor, which is endearing and encourages others to let down their guard. These days, Andy incorporates glib, jokey references to his past into this part of his shtick (e.g., "someday over a glass of wine, I'll tell you about the time I accidentally started a hobbit cult"), so it also serves to inoculate listeners against anything negative they might hear about him from other people.
Both tend to zero in on and exploit good-natured people who give others the benefit of the doubt.
Both pride themselves on (and brag about) using charisma and "wit" to talk their way into places/situations for which they are underqualified, that they can't afford, etc. See Andy’s remarks about getting "gorgeous service" at high-end boutiques based on charisma alone, and the commencement speech in which Mallory bragged about talking his way into a thesis program without doing the qualifying work.
These men hate to be in anything that could be construed as a subordinate role, although this is one area in which Andy is arguably more subtle than Dan Mallory.
Both enjoy hiding in plain sight—in Mallory’s case, through his novel.
Both have long histories of engaging in gaslighting, lying, and manipulation for their own benefit and/or entertainment.
Acquaintances have described both men's behavior as performative and calculating.
Neither could let go of their former victims, but instead kept contacting them to try and draw them back in—Andy did this with Abbey after she left him in Virginia, and Mallory did this with his former colleagues in London.
Lying liars who lie:
Both men have lied repeatedly and extensively about their physical and mental health histories, and can't be bothered to keep their stories straight. In Andy’s case, this has included claiming various psychiatric diagnoses with symptoms corresponding to their Hollywood portrayals, telling stories about allergic reactions and injuries that were wildly exaggerated at best, and more. Mallory told ever-changing stories of psychiatric treatments that worked either very well or not at all, blamed his chronic lying on Bipolar II (a claim that would be ludicrous if it weren't so offensive), repeatedly claimed to have brain tumors and/or cancer, and told a variety of lies over the years about family members' illnesses and deaths that never happened.
Both have lied about having mysterious, incurable ailments that would definitely kill them within a set number of years—which was prone to change—but that conveniently didn't stop Mallory from working when he felt like it, or Andy from traveling anywhere his friends would pay for.
Each of them has told a multitude of easily disprovable lies about his education, his family, and his personal history.
Both claimed to have been abused as children, though Andy told long, graphically detailed stories about it and Mallory doesn’t seem to have gone further than making an implication.
Each has lied about a younger sibling's identity: Mallory impersonated his brother in a long series of emails to former colleagues about his alleged ill health, and Andy told his friends that his sister was responsible for everything he'd done to people as Amy Player.
Both have inadvertently revealed themselves via verbal, syntactical, or spelling idiosyncrasies when impersonating others online.
Both impersonated other people to chronicle their fake or severely exaggerated illnesses and to describe their plucky/humorous behavior during alleged hospital stays.
Both faked accents—Andy was "Irish" and Mallory was "British".
Both have claimed, directly and by implication, to have connections and insider knowledge of Hollywood, the film industry, and/or screenwriting.
Aside from all the outright lies they've told, both men have engaged in lies of omission, deliberately not correcting others' misunderstandings or misperceptions about them.
When their lies were exposed, both claimed that their accusers were lying because they were sexually attracted to them and had either been rejected (as Mallory said of the CEO of a publishing house), or were disturbed by the attraction (as Andy said of Turimel).
Both tend to double down when confronted about an obvious lie, and then try to steer the conversation to other topics.
Miscellany:
Each is the eldest son of affluent parents.
Mallory's fascination with Tom Ripley is reminiscent of Andy's admiration of Frank Abagnale.
Both were involved in their college theatre departments. For Andy, this is true of his attendance at VCU, at Thomas Nelson Community College, and at Christopher Newport University almost twenty years ago. (I’m not sure what he did at George Mason. He wasn't there for long.)
The work of both men is, shall we say, "derivative". In Andy's case, this applies more to his art. I am not familiar with Mallory's work other than The Woman in the Window and a handful of quotations from essays and e-mails he's written, but it appears that in TWW, he may have ripped off a novel by Sarah A. Denzil that was published six months before he started trying to sell his book, and has almost certainly ripped off "Copycat", a movie from 1995 (see New Yorker article).
Mallory’s focus on process and strategy in writing, the way his own voice overwhelms that of the narrator, and Parker's description of TWW as "a thriller excited about getting away with writing a thriller" all reminded me of the experience of reading DAYD and the way Andy has often talked about writing and storycraft.
Many former associates of each man were at least somewhat aware of how sketchy they were, but were unable or unwilling to call them out.
A surprising number of people, despite knowing they've been lied to repeatedly and at great length, still like both of them quite a lot.
Both Andy's and Dan Mallory's parents seem like kind, decent people who love their sons and want to believe the best of them.
Specific lines from the "New Yorker" article that made me think of Andy:
A former colleague on Mallory: "'If there was something that he wanted and there was a way he could position himself to get it, he would. If there was a story to tell that would help him, he would tell it.'"
"He’d begin with rapturous flattery…and then shift to self-regard. He wittily skewered acquaintances and seemed always conscious of his physical allure."
Author Sophie Hannah: "Mallory 'renewed my creative energy,' she said. He had a knack for 'giving feedback in the form of praise for exactly the things I’m proud of.'"
"Speaking in Colorado last January, Mallory quoted a passage from Kay Redfield Jamison’s memoir, 'An Unquiet Mind,' in which she describes repeatedly confronting the social wreckage caused by her bipolar episodes—knowing that she had 'apologies to make.' … In more recent public appearances, Mallory seems to have dropped this reference to wreckage. Instead, he has accepted credit for his courage in bringing up his mental suffering, and he has foregrounded his virtues."
Mallory: "It's been horrific, not least because, in my distress, I did or said or believed things I would never ordinarily say, or do, or believe—things of which, in many instances, I have absolutely no recollection."
#andrewmblake#andythanfiction#thanfiction#dan mallory#andy blake#andrew blake#hiding in plain sight#mental health
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Sing me a song, o muse, of your bitter hatred against catcher in the rye bc SAME
Oooooh boy, I smell one of my long winded rants coming on. Strap in folks its about to be a wild ride.
So, Ima preface this by saying that I have NOT read it since I was forced to read it in 11th grade. For like, several fucking reasons. (the primary one being that I don’t want to, the 2nd one being I don’t know which bookshelf my dad stashed my copy on. He stashed all my required readings on various bookshelves after I was done with them. Because we were all given copies for free by the teachers that we were allowed to keep. I’ll chalk this up to private school benefits I guess? I’ve been out of the public school circuit since the end of 5th grade) So basically my memory of like, most of the events that take place in the book are foggy at best and unremembered at worst.
@ my mutuals and followers who like this book, that’s fine you do you, but I personally am not and probably will never be a fan of Catcher in the Rye. My feelings of why I dislike it are my opinions and I’m not gonna force them on you.
Problem 1: Main character is an unsympathetic asshole
My biggest gripe about the book is honestly a gripe I have about SEVERAL books. Unlikable characters, and I don’t necessarily mean written poorly (though I don’t remember being awed by how the book was written, I’ll be honest.) I mean unsympathetic asshole little bastards that make you want to just chuck the book across the room. Other books that share this problem are The Great Gatsby (that book is hot fucking garbage in terms of likeable characters and I WILL die on that fucking hill do not even @ me), Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie (Main character is an asshole little snobby bitch and despite being a murder mystery written in first person she literally figures things out at such a pace its not fun for the reader because she STILL ends up caught in shit situations she KNEW WAS GOING TO GO DOWN BECAUSE SHES SUCH A SPECIAL LITTLE SHIT- okay that’s a rant for a different post) and The King Must Die. (If you ever want to read a book with shit diction, pick it up.)
Now, as a writer/roleplayer of almost a decade, I’ve made plenty of characters that fall into the unsympathetic asshole role. My problem isn’t with the archetype, it’s often used and often done well (fandoms later trying to apologize for them aside) My PROBLEM comes when that’s either the archetype for the only character given any spotlight, or ALL the characters have that problem. (see, Great Gatsby.) Holden Caulfield(or however the fuck you spell it) is an unsympathetic asshole, and also the character who’s perspective is the only one we get to see, and the only character we really know much about. (Mainly cause he just doesn’t deign to care to give a legitimate effort in giving a damn about anyone else aside from how innocent children/his sister are. More on how creepy that shit is later.) Making a book like this means that I’m far less likely to enjoy it because I want to be able to root for someone. I can root for an asshole, so long as they’re likeable in some regard. Holden is a grade A fuckboy in the making and as such I am not a fan.
TL/DR: It’s possible to have likeable unsympathetic asshole characters, it is almost impossible to do that if that’s all you have exposure too in your cast.
Problem 2: I was really not in the best place to receive such a fucking depresso espresso lesson about life.
Switching gears momentarily from problems with the writing/book itself to problems with the timing of this book showing up in my life. High school was the time when all my trauma I’d successfully… repressed? Avoided dealing with? whatever, basically all my mental health shit suddenly decided to spring itself on me and yell “SURPRISE, YOU’RE MENTALLY FUCKED AND WILL NEVER BE THE SAME!” in 10th grade and it wasn’t until halfway through 11th grade that I even started getting a handle on shit. I almost failed high school and it was *bad*, especially for someone who was just trying to get to college so I could get to vet school and be qualified for a job that requires an ass load of education. So in walks this fucking book and it’s message of “adulthood is a sham, nothing matters and you really should just fuck around and do whatever because it’s all bullshit anyway. Childhood was where it’s at.”
Like???? Alright, that’s not what I need to hear when I’m barely passing high school. Go to fucking therapy and get some help, we all have trauma and therapy is the best path to work through it. I dunno like, yeah okay some people need to hear that message at whatever time in their life they read the book, but that message really wasn’t great to my Anxiety/Depression/ADHD struggling ass trying to just stay steady enough to get into college.
Honestly, even to this day I HATE HATE HATE books with depressing messages like that. I already deal with the struggle of being afraid of failure, getting where I want to be, all that shit. I don’t want that in my literature. Give me a person who struggles but still succeeds and finds some sort of happiness and self-worth in the end. Give me someone overcoming their traumas in such a way that they can at least have a good quality of life afterwards, even if the trauma will never leave, so long as they’re happy. I’m tired of YA novels that try and sell our generation and gen z the message that life sucks. Give me more hope, more heroes, more people making a difference because hell life is short so best make the most of it making a difference.
To quote GotG, why do I care so much about stories that revolve around saving the world, even if that world is just as small as a found family?
And my existence might as well be a happy one and have HOPE GOD DAMMIT.
TL/DR: If a book leaves me feeling like shit after reading it because it ends on a super shitty note, I’m generally not going to enjoy that book. And the fact that most YA novels these days that are given to highschoolers fall into this category is hot garbage when this is around the time they’re trying to find some sort of direction in life.
*Note: I realize that there are times and places for books that give more somber messages. Hell, I’ve even enjoyed some books with messages of such a tone. But media these days, and honestly for most of my life starting in mid to late teenage years (and maybe earlier) has started taking a turn towards the more depressing/somber stuff, and its overwhelming and just bad. And even back then when first reading it this was something I picked up on and didn’t enjoy. It just was not the right time in my life to hear a message so devoid of giving a shit.
Problem 3: Holden is honestly, super fucking creepy.
Okay, we back on the train of the actual book’s writing. Holden the dipshit is honestly, really fucking creepy. Towards women specifically. I have no direct quotes from the book specifically, but I DISTINCTLY remember the way he talked about women (or even young children/girls) being creepy as shit. Like, he waxes lyrical about his kid sister and her classmates and how innocent they are and how he wants to be the “Catcher in the Rye” to keep them innocent and to keep them from realizing how bad the world is. Great, lovely sentiment Holden. Except that the way you’re going about it comes across as being a pedophile. You’re at the very least sexist as fuck, because you’re objectifying the fuck out of people anyway.
That scene with the sex worker in the hotel room is also one I remember making me feel super uncomfortable. Not because the sex worker is there, but because uh, just, god, that whole scene gave me the creeps. Probably because I felt bad for the woman, coming into the room expecting to be paid for work and there’s just this kid who breaks the fuck down, tells her some depressing shit, and maybe pays her? (does he pay her? I can’t fucking remember, I’d like to think he does, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t, because he’s an ass.) Actually, bigger question IS HE EVEN OF AGE TO HAVE SEX WITH HER LEGALLY? HOW OLD IS THIS KID? HES STILL IN HIGH SCHOOL RIGHT?
…. so I looked it up, he’s 17. SEVENTEEN. HE IS A M I N O R. I’m like 99% sure that the woman he hires is like, twice his age at least. That’s straight up illegal.
god this just gets worse.
TL/DR: Holden is a 17 year old creep who comes off as a pedophile in the way he talks about kids, and also definitely hired a sex worker while he was underage. Idk if that was legal at the time this book was written, but if it was (and I doubt it), that has aged very poorly.
Problem 4: It’s got a lot of male fans who fall into that all too dangerous category of having Fight Club or Rick and Morty being their favorite bit of visual media.
Okay, again, not a problem of the book. But when the majority fanbase (or at least, the most vocal part) are a bunch of abusive men who don’t realize that the message they took away from a work of fiction is incredibly problematic? Or worse, know and don’t care because they think their take is superior? Uhhh, how do I say, big yikes.
Like, this could be your favorite book, whatever, that’s you, I don’t care, but if your reasoning for it is because Holden is, in your opinion, an unflawed idealized version of yourself/your ideals?
thats a nope from me bro.
———-
That’s all I can do off the top of my head without going in and reading the book again. Which I probably won’t do for a long time, because I don’t need to hear that struggling to make a place for yourself is dumb and proves you’re just “part of the machine, the man has made you his bitch.” while I’m still trying to y’know, get to where I want to go.
But there you go, four solid reasons why I really really do not like Catcher in the Rye.
#catcher in the rye#Me? make something short winded? never in my life#maybe I'll update this with findings if I ever go back and read it again#though#given that my ability to sit and read through things is basically null and void at this point that won't be for ages
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Update
So, I suppose this is a pretty big life-update. As least for me, to myself: You’ve moved out. Finally. I feel happy and sad. This has brought up so many emotions. Some are surprisingly cultural, some are surprisingly greedy and some are surprisingly lonely. So here we go:
1. I expected more financial support from my parents. Why? Because it’s cultural for parents of my sort to help their children as much as they can. With money. Mostly because they fail in all other areas, like emotional support, mental health awareness and general interest in who their progeny are. My parents failed in a lot of areas. And the money area. The one area... I was in a taxi cab and the driver was mystified as to why I would be renting, why one sibling owns and where my parents fit into all this rental-spending. He even offered to buy a place with me and told me about property in my area that I could afford. Something my parents did not take the initiative to do, but talked a lot about that I expected it. They are a lot of talk. I don’t even know what they do aside from working, making money and then emotionally shitting all over their kids.
2. I have realized my father is a very, very, VERY passive person. He told me once that to him “life is like sitting on a train and watching it go by.” I was so saddened by this. Now I am angry at him. I am angry at him for not sticking up for himself and his children in a more direct and firm manner. I am angry at him for letting us do the intervening on his and each other’s behalf. I am angry at him for not being more ambitions on his own and standing up to my emotionally abusive, careless mother. And I am angry at him for saying to me once “you will forget all this.” When I was a teenager and going though emotional abuse form my mother. Instead of sticking up for me in front of me so I can witness it, he told me that he talks to her in private. Which I don’t trust. He thinks life is a game. He thinks nothing is serious because he didn’t get to choose who he married or when he became a father. So I think that life just became a joke to him. And the interests of others became a joke too. He doesn’t care about our goals, and does little things to ruin them or create a challenge. He is more like my mother than I realized. They both hate us, in different ways.
3. I have realized both my parents were traumatized by their marriage to each other and then by each of the births of their children. I can’t imagine how many people who have children go though this and then have to care for the source of their trauma. But I am also done looking at things from their perspective all the time.
4. I have been told by them, the sources of my trauma, that I have no trauma. And that I have nothing to complain about, and my life is perfect. All the while I was used as a chopping block, a punching bag, a servant, a care taker, a therapist, a nanny, a cook, a cleaner...While they were telling me that they were the ones who were making all the sacrifices. I spent my part-time wages on gas and groceries for their other children. I took into consideration their schedules when I went to college. My dad took my tax return money for school credits to reimburse himself for the RESP money he invested in our education. When I have an accomplishment, like when I got a raise, he told me how much he was making, which was more, and how frivolous my mother was with their money, and how much he had in investments. And didn’t offer any of it to me.
5. My grandmother called me on the phone, crying and said, “I don’t like the way you and your sister have left the house. There should have been an engagement party for your sister. You two are your father’s whole life. Who will stick up for him?” Who will stick up for him? As in we were tasked as children, youth, adolescence, then adults to stick up for a grown man. And act as go-betweens in an adult marriage, while other adults knew, in fact, assigned and accepted that was our role.
6. When people tell you they “love you,” it often translates into “you have been or are useful to me.” Not, I care for you, I value you, how is your heart, mind, and health. What can I do to support your being. No. It’s “you are useful to me.” “I love you” means “I love using you.”
7. My father spent my money buying me a plane ticket to Fiji, it costs one of my pay checks. He said that he tried unsuccessfully to argue the price down. This is an example of how is passivity hurts me, financially and emotionally. Rather than asking me if that was an acceptable amount, he just spent my money without talking to me first. I went online and found a ticket less than half that price. He didn’t think that I am on my own, unlike my sister, him and my mother, my grandparents before them and every one of his friends. He didn’t think that I have just moved out, that I am bleeding money because I don’t have anything. He said he would help me on the day I moved, he didn’t, and I was happy that I hired movers. When I told him I was moving he told me he was sad. He didn’t ask me how I felt. Or what was going on with me. As a single person in their thirties, moving out alone, how did I feel.
8. I can’t even talk about my ridiculous mother. My ridiculously damaged mother. My mother, who, I have learned, would choose her pain any day over the emotional well-being of her family.
9. I feel like I am where I should be. But I also feel behind, as always, compared to my married, reproducing peers.
10. I also feel the most free. Because I have a good understanding of people around me, and because I am not married and don’t have any kids.
So there you have it. I have become the so-called independent woman. How does it feel? It feels frightening and lonely. But I only feel that way because of my traumatic upbringing.
It also feels relieving, now that I am not in that environment. I can’t believe I stayed for so long. But I didn’t have the confidence or money to move out on my own. I didn’t have the confidence to try and make enough money. Now I hope I can build my confidence and make more money. That’s all I want. I have forgotten how to want anything else.
I am nervous about the amount of the ticket. I wish he had thought about what my priorities are versus what his priorities are at our respective stages in our lives. I am really pissed off that he didn’t ask me before he purchased it. And I am afraid to tell him so because he gets emotionally abused by my mother, who basically tells him he does everything wrong. So instead I just let him screw me over and not tell him in case it pushes him over the edge and he leaves, or kills himself. Or gets depressed. I want him to be happy. And I want his money. But he doesn’t have the insight to give it to me, which is perhaps the only basic requirement of Asian parents. Aside from arranging a marriage - but my parents are against that, since they had one of their own and like I said, it is one source of both their traumas.
I feel betrayed by my grandmother, but I can never tell her because she is too old and I suspect too cultural to understand that my feelings as a person are even occurring within me. She got married, she had and raised children, she saw the world with her husband, she has a comfortable retirement, so comfortable that she can go to the casino and gamble. But she tells me that she is lonely, that I should keep her company, while I make enough money and find a husband. All my waking hours that are not part of work, I imagine she thinks, should be spent with her. When I was dating a guy and I told her about him she said, “he better realize that you will not leave your Aaji.”
The adults in my life, or those who raised me, put their emotional needs ahead of my own. And if they think they didn’t they are stupider than I thought.
And these are the things that moving out has made me realize.
I hope that feelings of depending on myself and feeling more empowered, instead of let down, come to me soon.
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My toughest 8 months!
I don’t know how to start, I guess I never thought I’d make a post like this at all but here I am. I’d want the world to know this and to know that we all have our battles, we fight these battles, we get wounded but eventually these battles come to an end. These wounds are what affect our mental health! And here are a few of mine that I’ve endured in the last 8 months.
I was a student at Leeds University, graduated in July 2018 but only just found out that my dad, who’s never had any experience in running a travel agency decides to buy one here in the United Arab Emirates. He’s got a guide, who’s the manager. Now this manager is a very peculiar man, a full blown racist, homophobe, an absolutely arrogant and patronising man of the highest order. Very manipulative and also I suspect he was a pedophile as well but that’s just my suspicion at this point. Since my dad was new here, he decided to listen to this man who would make out Dubai as one of the hardest places to live in. He’d make standard procedures sound really arduous or tough. He’d scare my dad into letting him (the manager) do all the work while assuring my dad that he’s got it. While in Leeds, I would often tell my dad to see what’s he’s upto, alas he never listened. My dad sold most of his property/lands that we owned back in our country to actually help us with the move to the UAE. My dad would pay this man a ridiculous salary to just sit on his arse and shout at him. At this point we’re using our reserves because the business is down in the gutters. Told my dad to please let this man go and let’s dosomething else. Was shat at and ignored while I could see our reserves thinning out. It came to a point when we couldn’t pay the salaries of our employees and parents had to head back home and sell our house! We paid the salaries and all but now it was time! We had to get rid of this company. I found out that this man had forced my dad to bestow upon him this Power of Attorney. This was a complete authority and this manager could do anything under my dads name! I had to get that cancelled! Got that done, got the full ire of that man who shouted at me. I made dad terminate that man and here if you terminate someone, you’ve got to pay their 3 months salaries but if they resign, you’re not liable to. I could’ve asked him to resign had I known but alas. Fast forward and we had nearly exhausted our reserves. So much so we weren’t sure if we’d eat on certain days. Finally we found a buyer for the company and let it go.
Now this was a point when I told my parents that we’ve got money, let’s not invest it straightway into something we’re not sure of! But again listening to me is akin to listening to a baby cry, it’s annoying. They did the exact opposite of what I told them and kept on telling. They bought a dead restaurant from that money.
3 months later, we’re trying to get rid of that restaurant. My dads left the country and basically deserted us so as the restaurants dead, I had to sell my mums jewellery with her to pay its rent. I had to ask my friends like request them to lend me money. It felt VERY VERY beggar like. I got turned down, some didn’t respond, some that did said we’ll only lend you if no one did but some lent me straight away! I feel absolutely horrendous. Then I had these arguments with mum about how to go about this and we came to the conclusion that they (my mum and my siblings) need to move back. Once we get money from the restaurant, we can use it back home instead if living in the UAE. Now I’ve been offered a job here which starts in June so I could support them a bit but when mum asked me to give most of my salary to her, I said No! I need to also live my life and manage my expenses and if I did what she asked, I’ll be left with absolute peanuts. I’ll be a teacher in June and it’s a sure as Hell a stressful job!
Now we’re in the process of trying to find a buyer for the resto, the mistake of buying it still hurts me. I had a massive argument with mum about how to deal with things. She just keeps repeating stuff that we’ve agreed on and that can be mental tension and strsss causing. I told her that and she started hitting me with her shoe and asked me to leave the house. I said alright. For the first time in 8 months I felt a relief. I felt as if these problems wouldn’t be mine anymore. I used to be a happy go lucky lad in Leeds, would love life and enjoy the little things and it felt like a window. Yet she stopped me and said “will you leave yer ma like this?” To which I replied no (and a sudden feeling of being sucked back in depression rushed in instantly).
My brother hates me because of my thoughts that they should move back if they’re to not be in the streets. My dad has brushed aside these struggles by calling me a pussy. He sweared at me on WhatsApp. Actually, he was sending mum old pictures of them and saying he misses the good old days knowing full well it’s him who caused all this and then deserted us and then when mum started to sob uncontrollably, I told him to stop sending those. He sweared at me then.
Fast forward. We’re still trying to sell this restaurant that’s been a bone that’s stuck in our throats. We can’t really sell it because potential buyers ask loads of questions, loads of inquiries and inquisitive questions, something we should’ve done as well and our answers are dismal. We can’t really market this restaurant because it’s got no sales, a VERY high rent and a crap location.
We’re running out of reserves because I can’t drive and we take public transport to get there.
There had been times I felt like ending it. It’s been too much. I have fought for them everywhere, advocated their cause and still get shit on. But then my mates and my gf just remind me of why it’s important to stay healthy and that this will be over someday/time. I’ve decided to stay hydrated, exercise and go off social media. Social media was a massive source of anxiety. Seeing your friends enjoy life while you fight for your family’s survival hurts and made me envious and bitter. I really need out but hopefully will get there. At times I want to cry really loudly at the card fate’s dealt me. But here I am.
Life is what we make of it, we’re stronger and can overcome anything. These past few days I came up with this mantra that I recite everyday and it makes me feel a lot good and positive when I head out to try sorting the mess I’m in. It goes like this:
I have no enemies, only friends
I hate no one, I hold my tongue
I judge no one and I don’t get judged
I don’t hurt anyone, neither get hurt
I’m happy, I’m healthy, I’m educated
Hope things will turn out for the best soon and things will be alright.
I’m happy, I’m healthy and I’m educated
Syed Ali Sabtain
#PostItForward
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how to deal with lack of academic motivation
Some quick tips from a girl who has been through it all.
Feeling Empty/Uncaring
First, think about why you’re feeling this way. Do you really not care at all about your grades? Will you honestly be fine failing high school, or is there something else in your life going on that’s causing you to be distracted/lose sight of your goals?
Common reasons for feeling empty at school
Moving to a new school
Major family dynamic shifts (aka divorce, loss, big arguments)
Technology addiction (I sound like my mom lol, but more on this later)
Bad physical health. Includes excersise, diet, sleeping patterns, etc.
Mental health disorders affecting daily life (a friend of mine was failing all of her classes, saw a therapist, and got diagnosed with ADHD. Being on medication has since helped her have more empathy for her studies).
Lack of organization or structure to daily life
Lack of self-confidence
Ways to feel more empathetic and to care more about simple “inconviniences” like homework or school projects.
Keep a planner - having a schedule will allow you to keep up with assignments. Also, if you’re like me, you’ll get excited about keeping a neat, pretty journal.
Surround yourself with school supplies that make you excited to use. Aka, nice notebooks, color coded flash card sets, fancy pens. It’s not necessary, but these little things can make you feel more compelled to work.
Get some ‘real talk.’ My mom always makes sure to tell me when I’m slipping back into my isolationist phases, so you should open your mind to advice and critisism from others. You don’t have to agree, just listen.
Drink water, brush your teeth twice a day, start braiding your hair and washing your face at night... Self care boosts confidence, and taking care of yourself physically can transfer into your mental health. More importantly, having routines like these will set good habits and keep you healthy. No one can pay attention in school with three hours of sleep while eating junk food three times a day.
CUT DOWN YOUR NETFLIX TIME. As much as millenials and gen-y Tumblr users kind of hate being told this, anything in excess is BAD, and that includes technology use. Netflix binging is super fun for weekends, but on weeknights, it encourages procrastination, and the end result is that you put aside homework in favor of empty brain hours, and you give up hours to study/do work. Instead of coming home and watching TV, try sitting down with your technology in another room and doing your work. After your homework is finished, then let yourself have recreation time. The importance of creating a habit of activity instead of procrastination is the most important step in getting your game back! And, long-term, those extra two hours of studying will be much more profitable to you than watching a couple episodes of Love Island.
Self-confidence. Good students have it. In order to care about your classes, you have to care about yourself enough to do what’s best for your future.
(I know that college isn’t on everyone’s life plan, but being educated and showing the initiative to learn is an attractive human quality, and I believe that since we are privlidged enough to have access to education, we should seize that opportunity.)
Big Takeaways
Cut down on technology (at least until after you’ve completed all the work you need to do). It will help lessen your urge to procrastinate.
Eat, drink, and sleep healthily.
Work out your personal life, and analyze how it may affect your academic life.
Set routines so that working no longer becomes a chore and instead is more of a habit.
#exams#studying#how to study#advice#student#motivation#help#academics#academic#college#high school#self care#self love#schoolwork#homework#blog#how to#love self#books#reading#math#science#history#archaeology#study motivation#studyblr#studyspo
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The Lamp Posts: Lies and Cancer
“Have you asked yourself what profit [E] might have in lying?” --My therapist, to my wrestling with doubts
“Munchausen by Internet usually manifests in the late teens or early 20′s. It's often preempted or accompanied by other psychological issues, most commonly personality disorders... ...The lies escalate slowly, which makes them harder to detect. Someone might sound like a walking textbook when talking about their symptoms, or they may be quick to duplicate the symptoms of other people around them. The lies are intricate, detailed, engrossing. Terrible setbacks are followed by miraculous recoveries. And if someone else becomes the center of attention, their condition will dramatically worsen or they will become the victim of a sudden tragic event. Some people even invent tertiary characters—friends, siblings, a concerned mother—to jump into internet threads and corroborate their stories. The lies slowly escalate, pile up, and create an improbable whole. Then one day, you realize you're friends with a 15-year-old chronic migraine sufferer online who also happens to be a fourth-year medical school student who plays drums in a band at night—despite those crippling migraines—to pay his med school tuition because his [D]eaf mother and alcoholic stepfather have no interest in his baby-genius education. Oh, and since he's not yet old enough to drive, he skateboards three miles a day to get to class.
And on that day, you feel like a total schmuck.” --The Lying Disease
--My idiot ass
Continues after cut
Like I said in my last post, there’s a lot to this. A lot a lot. It’s tempting to take the advice of the King of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland and go from the beginning to the end over a series of posts, make it a narrative because narratives are easier and, let’s face it, more glamorous and attractive. But I think that would detract from the point of the thing, which is dealing with my own shit. And in my own shit, keeping it to a narrative would make it way easier to avoid saying the things I’m afraid to say. It’d give me as much time as I wanted to put the scary stuff off, and I would do that--put it off.
It’s better for everyone to get it over with. Once this post is over, I can stop going “I can’t say that, only a monster would say that”, and people can decide whether or not I’m a monster.
So. Monstering away, I guess.
I do want to preface this with a note that dates are going to be hard. At a friend’s suggestion, I deleted the chatlogs I had because I was torturing myself with them, so I have to go by a few handfuls of stuff still remaining and crucial events in my life.
I met E in 2014 through a mutual friend of the time, who I’ll call N, again because it’s a common letter and has nothing to do with them whatsoever. N and I were working on an ongoing project, which E had expressed interest in. I agreed that E had good contributions to make, and the three of us formed a group chat, first on Skype, then on Discord*. Aside from maybe a page or two of direct messages on Discord and some back and forth on Tumblr, all of the communication I had with E was in the group chat.
E was very open about their situation, and it was as bad a situation as it gets. They were a racial minority. They were a survivor of horrendous abuse--emotional, physical, verbal, sexual. A relative had spent years victimizing them and selling the recordings to a kiddie porn ring. Their immediate family was collectively neglectful and violent, and blamed E for making trouble when they testified against their predatory relative. Their only income was their husband’s paycheck--the PTSD and CPTSD alone made it impossible for them to function day to day, and even if it hadn’t, they had severe ADHD and depression, and on top of it all, they had cancer--childhood leukemia.
I want to stop right here and say that this is a situation that happens. And it’s awful, and horrifying, and we should all be more aware of that. I also want to say that there was more to their situation in terms of difficulty, but I’m leaving a few things out that may be just unique enough as to identify them.
These pieces of information came out a few at a time over the first couple of months that I knew E. I did what I could, talking with them, trying to cheer them up when they were down, giving advice, trying to help with the cost of living when I could, reblogging posts suggesting people donate to or commission them.
I felt immense sympathy for this struggling, long-suffering warrior, and I talked to friends, family, and my therapist about them frequently, asking if they had advice for someone who was in a seriously bad way. This was nothing new--I’ve had friends in rough spots more or less since I’ve had friends, and my mom was a social worker--specifically, a Hospice worker for end-of-life care. I used to walk into the computer room at home and see Mom triumphantly getting one of her clients the prescription they needed through a discount website, or sit in the living room and hear her tirelessly talking to an insurance company for the 427th time that week getting the heat turned back on for someone in the dead of winter. It wasn’t just that I admired her work, it was that I knew she knew things, and that knowing things could change a person’s life for the better--she had helped me help friends with bills and prescriptions before.
At this time, cancer was especially important to me. Mom had been diagnosed with skin cancer several years earlier, and one or two rogue fucking cells had made it to her liver despite all efforts. She died in February of 2015, and the enormity of my grief is one of the reasons I failed to see a lot of warning signs in my relationship with E (the biggest reason, as my sister puts it in relation to dramas we watch together, is “[I] never think of deceit”). It also made me all the more determined to help E get the help they needed.
E’s cancer was, at least, mild. Their doctor believed that chemotherapy would cause more problems than it solved, so they were spared that ordeal. However, they were actively being denied a marrow transplant because of their depression and suicidal ideation. I knew the state and general area they lived in, so I asked two of my best friends/extended family who were in nursing school together what could be done. I also brought them the name of a particular drug E was taking because E often talked about not taking it because of the bad taste, something that terrified me after Mom’s passing but not something I could talk them out of--there had to be something more palatable.
My friends responded...cautiously. It was, they said, illegal to deny someone a marrow transplant on grounds of mental illness--unlike organ transplantation, marrow can be grown and harvested from a living person, so the standards for receiving a donation aren’t as rigorous. One of them is particularly familiar with the process because their child had had childhood leukemia themself and owed their life to a marrow donor.
I was confused. Had E gotten it wrong? Or was E actively being discriminated against because of their class and race? Or maybe I had gotten it wrong myself? I certainly wasn’t the brightest apple in the barrel. I must have misunderstood something.
I said as much, and asked about the medication. Like I said, one of them had had a child with the same cancer as E’s, and they had been must younger at the time, so they must have been familiar with how to alleviate bad-tasting medicine enough for someone to stomach it.
I quickly learned I must have gotten something wrong again. The medication I stated the name of was IV-only. There was no possible way for it to taste bad.
While I was checking the chatlogs and confirming that I had gotten the name of it right (I had, maybe E had gotten two meds mixed up? Surely that was it...), the other friend asked me if E had a pick or a shunt line for their IV. I responded that I didn’t know, and proceeded to forward E what I had learned, and asked them about the IV as well.
We had been out shopping at the time, and it was late when I got home, so I didn’t check for a result until the next day. E hadn’t responded to the question, and instead, E had chatted with N about something unrelated. When I questioned them again, they asked me not to go to friends about their health anymore.
Guilt rushed over me. I had gotten so wrapped up in trying to help that I hadn’t considered E’s feelings. They had given me permission to ask about things, yes, but they were so frequently tired--what was I doing dragging them through this with strangers? I apologized, and promised not to bring it up again. I chalked the odd disparities up to E’s (by now notoriously cruel and uncaring) doctors causing trouble.
E cut ties with me in July of 2016.
It was then that my friends approached me and gently told me that they knew I wouldn’t be able to accept it while I was friends with them, but E had lied.
E wasn’t being turned down for a transplant.
E didn’t have bad tasting medicine.
E couldn’t even say where their IV line was, because they didn’t have one.
E didn’t have cancer, and never had.
This was the truth. I had been taken in by it because I couldn’t fathom anyone lying about anything as serious as cancer, especially to someone who was actively mourning a family member and best friend who was taken by it.
In the time that I soaked this in, half-arguing with my family still in shock, I had four primary thoughts:
1) If E had lied about this, I couldn’t trust anything they had ever said. How could I? If they had lied about having cancer for attention and money, what else would they lie about? Their stories of abuse, childhood pornography, visits to the hospital, their family killing pets, testifying about their relative--suddenly, I found myself simultaneously doubting every word they’d ever said and hating myself for ever doubting an impoverished CSA victim with cancer that they didn’t have wait.
2) I had no evidence. I knew what was happening now, that I had been caught up in an immense and terrible lie, and probably more immense and terrible lies on top of that, but there was no way I could prove any of it. If I even said I suspected them, especially so soon after they had told me off and left, I would look like a monster trying to frame them of the Worst Things in the Worst Way.
3) My mutual friend was closer to them than I was, still caught up in the lies, and because of 2), I had no way of warning them or explaining myself.
4) Cue the music.
It turned out that not only was Friend A in nursing school and not only had her kid had cancer, she had become part of a cancer hoax watchdog group years ago because of a similar incident in her support group. A parent had claimed one of their children had cancer to gain sympathy and funds from the group, then become suspect after another child had fallen ill, then pushed it too far when both (fictitious) children and the (fictitious) father died in a (fictitious) car accident. It happens all the time, but no one wants to talk about it. Everyone in my family had known, but they had been right--I wouldn’t have accepted it while I was still in the relationship.
It’s still not easy to talk about. I still have doubts about my doubts, and the only thing I’m sure wasn’t true was the cancer. Everything else is...mixed up. It’s not something I want to believe about someone I thought of as a friend, even if I never was a friend (this is a very small portion of how Bad things were, and they would only get worse). I don’t want to ever doubt someone’s experience, and the worse someone’s experience is, the less inclined I am to question it. Terrible shit happens. I know that far too well.
That having been said, there is a logical part to me, and while it doesn’t have the warmth I like to afford people, it does things like remind me that I have an almost addictive nature when it comes to studying about psychology, and that when my mind isn’t clouded by sentiment, it knows the signs, motivations, and methods of pathological lying. In that, this was only one place E sent up massive red flags.
I’m frankly expecting my follower count to drop for this, and I’m not blaming anyone who walks. I don’t know if I’d believe me if I wasn’t me. But please read the article I linked at the top of the page (here again for your convenience), and know that I’m only speaking to the best of my knowledge. Maybe I’m wrong. I’d like to be wrong. And I am fairly certain that on some level, E truly believed everything they said.
I don’t have a good wrapup for this. It’s 4:31 AM and I’m tired and trying really hard not to just delete this entire thing.
Back to you Achewood.
*ETA: Telegram. It was actually Telegram and not Discord. I spaced there because I was talking to someone on Discord right before writing this. Not technically important, but I want this as clear as it can be.
#lamp tag#long post#longpost#scrolling#csa mention /////#abuse mention /////#cancer mention /////#lamp posts
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