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dermatillo-bitch · 4 years ago

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Hey I'm about to go on the hugest rant in the world about why it's important to spread awareness for BFRBs so bear with me.

Today I was in a group chat of mine, and somebody else mentioned their dermatillomania. I got real excited to discuss it, as I never actually encounter other people who own up to having a BFRB.

We had a full out discussion in the chat. It was long, and we mentioned a lot of our struggles. After we had said a lot, about three other people said they had experienced similar struggles before and didnt know it had a name.

I wasnt shocked by this. BFRBs are usually very forgettable and not many psychiatrists or therapists know they exist, so it's pretty hard to get a diagnosis. Many people who have severe BFRBs have to bring the disorder's name to their psychiatrist's attention to even get them to acknowledge it. This makes it entirely more difficult to inform people that they arent crazy.

I went on to explain that Derma and Trich arent the only BFRBs. I mentioned that there are many others, including ones where you might bite your lip until its calloused, and one where you can pick your nose until it bleeds.

Somebody then asked me if the one where you pick you nose was real, saying they thought they were just gross. I immediately told them about Rhinotillexomania and they were relieved to hear they werent alone.

(They also remarked about how long the name was, but most of them have Latin roots and are very long.)

I find the fact that people dont know about these behaviors slightly infuriating. For such a long time, I thought I was alone. I thought I was creating a struggle for myself that everyone else around me was able to repress. I thought I was weak, not being able to stop myself. All of these thoughts are so unbelievably false. If you think this about yourself in any capacity, know that you are so totally wrong. You're not alone. Other people have the same struggles and obstacles as you.

I see a lot about Trich on these "Most Uncommon Human Disorders" videos, saying that it's super rare, and that like, 1 in 3 million people have it. This statistic is so off it's not even funny. Now correct me if I'm wrong, I often am, but as far as I am aware, about 1 in 30 people have a BFRB. That's so many people, so many people who might not be aware that what they're going through has a name.

I mentioned my derma once at a family gathering (dont worry it was before rona) and my aunt approached me after. She asked me really quietly, as if she were ashamed to even bring it up, if I had mentioned skin picking had a name. Dermatillomania is relatively common on her side of my family. Lots of them had it. I told her of course it does, and if she didnt remember it to text me. She sounded so uncertain, and it made me so upset, so sad, that she went more than half her life not knowing that she wasnt alone. Not knowing that she had a legitimate issue that was a struggle for her, and that it was valid.

Another thing is that people who arent informed on the topic of BFRBs think, is that it is a form of self harm. Infact, the person I was originally talking with on the group chat mentioned they had heard before that they were self harming by picking. It is not the same. They are entirely different things, but both are entirely valid struggles. I should explain the difference.

BFRBs fall on the OCD spectrum. They are behaviors that are obsessive and compulsive. They are not the same as a full Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, as those are different struggles and comparing them would not work well. Many BFRBs include subconscious behaviors that one might not even realize they are performing. My don't want to hurt themselves at all. Self harm, on the other hand, is not something I am qualified to talk about, but it is intentionally done to oneself with the intention of harm.

In conclusion, this was a mess of a rant and is super disorganized.

Jk. But seriously.

People need to know about these things. They're really common and it sucks when you're confused by your own behaviors.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#bfrb awareness #bfrb #dermatillomania #excoriation disorder #trichotillomania #skin picking disorder #skin picking #rhinotillexomania #body focused repetitive behaviors

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luvdsc · 3 years ago

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my first business midterm was a success! i only got one question wrong, and same goes for the second one i just took! 😁 so crazy i feel like i just started college and now i’m about to sign up for my next classes already :’) time flies

about the boy, don’t worry. it’s been a while since i found out about it and i am okay now. tbh i’m kinda glad we didn’t become anything more because looking back on it he wasn’t even all that omg i was just blinded by my “i can fix him” mindset along with the fact he was tall 😭 making jokes about the situation with my friends really helped me overcome it. plus i don’t think i had any sadness in me left the second i saw his new girl looks like me whoops but as crazy as it sounds even though he broke my heart i still trust he won’t ever tell anyone else the personal stuff i told him when i opened up to him so there’s that 👍

on a brighter note, so the concert was actually hitc omg which is technically not a concert lol but it was easier to type it as so but ANYWAYS hitc was SOO FUN it was definitely a memory for the books. rich brian was for sure my favorite set out of all the days. i think i saw you said you went as well??! how was your experience? whose set did you like the most?

i’m actually really happy with my life rn and the friends i have who are still in it. reflecting on the past couple months and what i went through, ik everything happened for a reason and have no regrets in any of the choices i made. in the end it all taught me lessons ik i probably wouldn’t have learned otherwise. so yeah this is the most content i’ve been in a long time :)

anyways i would love to hear your thoughts on the re-recorded version of red and the 10 minute all too well mv!! what’s your favorite song from the vault? for me ive been having message in a bottle on repeat i absolutely love the nostalgic vibe the best has & the lyrics hehe reminds me a lot of summer - 💐 anon

oh my gosh, congratulations, honey bee !!!!! 🥳🥳 that’s fantastic news, you did amazing, and I’m so proud of you 🤩🤩 I bet you’re the one who’s setting the grade curve in your classes :’) best of luck with enrollment !!! 🍀 I hope you’re able to get all the classes you want, lovebug 💕 are there any that you’re excited to take next quarter?

I’m glad to hear you’re doing well and are over that boy 💞 he didn’t deserve your time, effort, and feelings anyway 🤧 tall boys really have us in their clutch huh 😔 oof we gotta stay away from those types of boys that bring out the “I can fix him” mentality - they need a therapist first before we should even consider dating them SHUSJSDK omg his new girl looks like you?? All the best to her, I hope she sees the warning signs and moves from him too rip but it’s reassuring that you know/trust him enough that he will keep your secrets 💕

OMG YOU WERE AT HITC TOO ??? WASN’T IT SO GOOD !!!!! I made new friends there, and we’re planning to meet up again there next year !! And they also live close by, so we’re gonna hang out again sometime soon too 💘 YES I also loved rich brian’s set, also the ending stage when he and warren hue performed together was amazing 🤩 I wanted to see keshi perform the most and I loved his performance the most, but they did him so dirty with his mic 😡 I’m still mad about that hdjdjdjddk and I was super excited to see dpr, niki, and saweetie !!!! 💓💓

aaaaa I’m so happy to hear that you feel this way, sweetpea 🥺💟💟💟 I feel like when you reach that stage of happiness and contentment with your life, that’s the best place to be, like I don’t know how to explain it but it just feels so wonderful to be at peace with yourself and fully enjoy and embrace where you are in your life 💛💛 I hope you continue to feel that way, lovebug 🤍✨

OH MY GOSH I AM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH RED TV 😭❤️❤️❤️ like I am still playing all too well ten min version on repeat today, and it’s been like that since Monday 🤧 ngl i cried over the all too well mv, especially the you dropped my hand scene. The age gap was just so uncomfortable to watch, but it also was portrayed so accurately and vividly, and it just felt so raw and out there. My song favorites are still treacherous and holy ground for the original tracks, but message in a bottle is my favorite vault song too !!!! 💜 I agree, it sounds so nostalgic and summery ✨ nothing new hits me hard tho 🤧 and the very first night is really pretty sounding 💓 what about you, honey bee? Which songs are your favorites? Did they change from your old favorites when the first album version came out? 🌷🌷

#asks #anonymous #💐 anon

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years ago

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Twelve

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

May 3rd, 1993

It was Emile’s birthday, but all he could do was sit on his bed and cry. His heart hurt, because one of his friends was sick, and wasn’t getting better anytime soon. And Emile was worrying himself sick worrying over her. When there was a knock at Emile’s door he went over to open it, finding his dad on the other side. “What’s wrong, Emile?” Dad asked.

“You know what’s wrong,” Emile said. “She’s not getting better. If the fever doesn’t go down, they’re gonna take her to the hospital.”

“And she’ll get the treatment she needs there,” Dad said. “Emile, you can’t worry yourself sick over every friend you have, or you’d never feel okay.”

“But—”

“No but’s,” Dad said. “You have to be your first priority, Emile. You can’t put other people’s health over your own, not when it’ll hurt both of you in the long run.”

“She’s really sick, Dad,” Emile sniffled.

“But she’ll get better,” Dad said. “And in the meantime, you have to take care of yourself. Stop obsessing over whether or not she’ll be okay. Enjoy yourself, and don’t feel guilty for it. You should always be your first priority, Emile, never forget that.”

December 14th, 2000

Emile was working on making breakfast in the kitchen when he heard Remy stumble out of his bedroom with a groan. He inwardly shook his head with a laugh. Remy was definitely not a morning person; at least not when he stayed up late. And he didn’t know how late Remy was up last night, but judging how Remy immediately gravitated towards the coffee machine, it was a late one. “How bad?” Emile asked.

Remy grunted as he leaned against the kitchen counter, observing the coffee pot.

“Wow, that bad huh?” Emile laughed, finishing spreading cream cheese on his bagel as he moved to the refrigerator to grab some milk.

Remy didn’t acknowledge anything else until the coffee pot had finished filling with Remy’s magic elixir, at which point Remy immediately poured a cup and drank half of it in one go.

“Oh. Worse than I thought,” Emile said. “You good, Rem?”

“Mm,” Remy hummed. “Couldn’t stop thinking.”

“About?” Emile prompted.

Remy sighed, turning to the coffee pot. “Need more coffee.”

“For the conversation, or to function?” Emile asked.

“Yeah,” Remy said, pouring more coffee into his cup.

“Geez, Rem, how late did you stay up?” Emile asked.

All Emile got in response to that was a finger as Remy drained his cup of coffee. He gasped when he finally came up for air. “Okay,” Remy said. “The first buzz should be hitting shortly. Once it does, we can talk.”

“You’re a disaster, Rem,” Emile said with a shake of his head. “But yeah, I’ve only got afternoon classes today, and I haven’t heard back after my interview yet.”

Remy grunted and went to their small cupboards, looking for something to eat. Emile knew that Remy hadn’t been going to as many of his classes, especially not after midterms, in order to pick up more shifts to help pay for rent. But Emile could have sworn that sometime soon, something important was supposed to happen in one of Remy’s classes. Could that be what was keeping him up late?

Emile shook his head and walked into their small shared space in the apartment, currently being occupied by cardboard boxes to serve as a table. He sat on the floor and put his breakfast and milk on the boxes. The bedrooms had come with beds, which Emile was thankful for, but he wished that the entire apartment had come furnished, sometimes, even if it would have been more expensive. Sitting on the floor all the time just wasn’t gonna cut it.

Remy collapsed on the floor next to him, stuffing a granola bar in his mouth. Emile tried to brush Remy’s hair with his fingers, but Remy had so many cowlicks it wasn’t even funny. Emile wondered how much hair gel Remy used to keep his hair in place on bad hair days like these.

When Remy swallowed the last of the granola bar, he kept his eyes trained on the table as he said, “I was up until almost four in the morning.”

“I...why?!” Emile asked. “It wasn’t for classes, was it?”

Remy shook his head. “I just...couldn’t sleep. I don’t really know what I was feeling, but it wasn’t pleasant.”

“Were you happy? Sad? Angry? Confused?” Emile gently asked.

“All of those, save happy, rolled into one, I guess,” Remy said, brows knitting together, even though all the while he never looked at Emile. “I just...couldn’t stop thinking. About last night.”

“About therapy?” Emile asked. “Because if you don’t think that Kim is a good fit, we can find someone else...”

“Not about therapy,” Remy said. “I couldn’t stop thinking about...about...how you said...said that I...hurt you.”

Emile blinked. He couldn’t think of anything to say, really. He had told the truth, and he knew Remy hated it when he sugarcoated things. But clearly, this was affecting Remy differently. And judging by the way Remy couldn’t even look Emile in the eye, he was pretty sure the effect was a negative one. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Remy choked on a laugh. “I thought you didn’t want to be my therapist.”

“I don’t. But I want to be your friend. And if you trust friends enough, you can tell them your secrets. You just can’t unload everything on them and expect them to magically fix it,” Emile said. “So. I’ll ask you again. Do you want to talk about it?”

“...I cried,” Remy admitted. “I’ve been crying a lot lately, and I don’t know where it’s come from. The last time I cried like I did last night, I was in the ninth grade and someone who I thought was my best friend exposed me to the whole school for brownie points from the popular kids. I felt the same level of hurt as I did then. But...the hurt wasn’t directed at you.”

Emile frowned. “Who or what was it directed at?”

“Myself,” Remy said. “I just...I got so angry with myself, because the last thing in the world I wanted to do was...was hurt you. You’re my best friend. I hadn’t had a best friend in years, unless you count Toby, and neither of us were very touchy-feely, even then. And then I got sad, because I had done all of this, and you never spoke up about it. And what if that meant I made it feel like you couldn’t speak up about it? I’d played off hurt as a joke one too many times before, you wouldn’t know that I had realized that was wrong unless I genuinely apologized and told you I realized it was wrong. And! On top of that! I was super confused, because why should I care, right? The whole point of me pushing everyone away was that I didn’t care. But I realized last night...I do care.

“I care about you, and I care about your friends, and in order to convince myself I don’t care, I make them hate me so caring about them feels pointless. But it doesn’t work. And...and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but at least right now, I do need a therapist. Like, don’t get me wrong. I don’t like shrinks. I get uneasy when someone literally has been trained to pick your brain apart, but I need that as part of my support, and I need support beyond you and the therapist, too, because I only see her once a week, maybe, and I can’t just go to you the rest of the time, because I don’t want you to burn out, and I realized I need to have some of my own friends, even if they’re also your friends, because they could be part of a support network too, and obviously I can help them, friendship isn’t just a one way street, right? And I mean—”

Emile cut Remy off with a hand over his mouth. “Remy, slow down, I can barely understand you when you’re talking that fast. And please, end your sentences with a period once in a while, you need to breathe.”

Remy stopped mumbling into Emile’s hand and Emile let his hand drop. Remy took a deep breath. “I...I really don’t want to hurt you, Emile. And I’m super sorry that I did. And...I’m willing to do what it takes to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

Emile sat there in silent shock. Clearly, he had misjudged how much progress Remy had made over the past couple months. He genuinely cared about Emile. And while he might not care for others, not yet, he wanted to learn. And Emile felt a swell of affection and pride at that realization. “It won’t be easy,” Emile warned. “If you want me to call you out whenever you make a bad comment, it’ll happen frequently, possibly enough for you to get defensive. The key is to put that defensiveness aside and listen to what the other person is telling you, when they say that behavior is unacceptable.”

“Yeah...I...I figured. I’m not exactly good at reading a room, unless it’s to figure out how to make people hate me,” Remy said, scratching the back of his neck.

“And you’re willing to put in the work to change that? You genuinely want this?” Emile asked.

“I...yeah. I want to have friends again,” Remy’s voice was small, and soft, and fragile, and it broke Emile’s heart to hear it.

“Good. Then I can be your tutor,” Emile said. “We can hang out on campus if you want, or drive around town, or do whatever. But know that if you do something that I don’t think is kind, I’ll call you out. In front of whoever’s there. Not to shame you, but so you know that isn’t okay, and the people around you know you’re trying to learn.”

Remy nodded. “I don’t like the thought of that,” he admitted. “But if that’s what I need to do to get better, then I’ll do it.”

The swell of affection hadn’t dimmed in Emile’s chest any, and he smiled softly at Remy. “Thank you for being willing to try,” he said. “I know you won’t know how to do everything right off the bat, and I’m willing to go over things with you if you need or want an explanation. But the fact that you’re trying at all is a good sign. I’m proud of you for that.”

Remy’s eyes widened and they snapped up to meet Emile’s gaze. “You’re...what?” he asked softly.

“I’m proud of you,” Emile said. “Haven’t you ever had someone be proud of you before?”

“Maybe when I was really little,” Remy said. “Never once I grew past, like, seven. No one ever told me they were proud of me, unless I asked, and even then, it felt forced, or like they didn’t want me to prompt them.”

“You know, there are days where I’d love to strangle a majority of your family,” Emile said matter-of-factly.

Remy blinked. “That may be the first aggressive thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“And what’s more, it’s true,” Emile said with a bitter smile. He stood. “I’m getting dressed, and when I’m done and you’re out of your pajamas, we can figure out what to do today, sound good?”

“Don’t you have DnD tonight?” Remy asked.

“That’s tonight,” Emile said. “I’m free until my afternoon classes. And after that, we can always have dinner together.”

Remy did a double take. “You know, you keep talking like that, people will start to think that we’re dating,” he said.

Emile shrugged. “Eh, I don’t have a problem with people knowing I’m bisexual. You don’t seem to have a problem with people knowing you’re gay. If people ask if we’re dating, we can just be honest and say no. Unless, of course, you need to get any creeps off your back, in which case I will happily play your fake boyfriend until they leave.”

“You’re too good to have me as your friend,” Remy said, waving Emile off to his room. “I don’t know why you chose me as a friend, but I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” Emile said with a smile, going to his room and getting dressed.

As he picked out what shirt he wanted to wear, he was left wondering why Remy brought that up. Having dinner together was something friends did all the time. And it wasn’t like that phrasing was dating-exclusive. He didn’t understand why Remy felt that needed to be pointed out. Who cared if people thought they were together? So long as Emile and Remy knew the truth and no one tried to hurt them, where was the harm in it?

“One of life’s greatest mysteries,” Emile chuckled to himself. “The enigma that is Remy Picani, with his best friend Emile Thomas.”

In all seriousness, though, he did wonder. He wouldn’t ask Remy about that right away, not after Remy had opened up to him so much already this morning. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Maybe another day, he decided. He walked out of his room to find Remy wearing that same leather jacket he had gotten recently and refused to take off whenever they went out. Emile laughed. “Where to?” he asked.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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a-real-ackerman · 4 years ago

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Perfect Scenario

Sherlock Fanfic

summary: You, a super human, an excellent actor and a liar with debatable ethics; are having a hard time overcoming feelings no one new you were capable of. On top of it, you have to deal with your “arch enemy” who has dedicated himself on the way of ruining your chances at your new life.

pairing: Sherlock x superhuman!Reader

warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, violence, language and horrible mistakes... I dunno, I will write a current warning in red on every chapter.

A/N: Even tho I think Sherlock as an asexual character or not interested etc, I find working with well-known characters and less OC’s quite useful. Also, I see a lot of me in him so I will be writing about him more. Also, the reader is female. Also, gifs are never mine, all credits for those talented people. By the way, in case you see my mistakes don’t be shy, let me know! I am trying to improve my English.

Chapter One: “Trembling Hands.”

“You don’t know who you are, unlike me.” was written on the card you recently received. Menacing words written in an elegant handwriting, appeared by your window, every morning since last Friday. there you stood by your counter, your e/c eyes wandering over the same simple words again and again, in a hopeless struggle to find any clues. You did not know what they wanted or cared about; what part of you they assumed they knew? Your super powers? Your business? Your therapist? Your past? Your parents’ death? All the lies you have been telling whole the time?

What you could analyse from each of these notes were the fact that they actually new about you. The words they choose were written in a friendly manner which told you that even tho you have never met them, they knew enough to consider themselves close to you.

You had a few assumptions on who they could be:

A secret admirer, in a sense, stalker

A conspiracy theorist who have witnessed your... condition?

One of the investigator who had researched you in your teens

Jimmy

No matter which one they were,(more likely to be a he), he was a stalker. You did not like stalkers. But you were interested in this one’s motive. You wanted to beat their game before they could put their filthy obsessive hands on your very new and clean life.

Hopping off the counter, you rushed into the living room and put the card on the brown coffee stand in the middle of the room, right next to others. Walking trough cold blue walls of you flat, you kept mentally checking the places you usually control, in case there were cameras. You were going to take a shower after all.

“I have to ask him first,” said the man on the line, Holmes’ face shot a fake kind smile as he was face to face with the doctor. “ tell my brother I said hi.”

Doctor threw a look at the phone in disbelief as Holmes hang up the phone. Sherlock was not in his mood for a new case. Especially not a case from his brother, which involves scammers, government, some mafia and a class action lawsuit that could bring them a big amount of money. The detective was too busy in his mind palace.

John entered the flat and found his flatmate already waiting for him, sat on his chair with hands in praying position, eyes boring into him like he’s trying to ask something.

Uncomfortable under the gaze, “Yes, Sherlock ask away.” sighed John.

“John,” said Sherlock, “I have a suggestion.”

John looked at him in suspicion, his eyes narrowing.

“How about going out to see a play tonight?”

John exhaled out of surprise to his friend’s suggestion, was he asking him on a date? For a case (of course)?

“Don’t worry John, about whatever you thought of-I don’t’ prefer to vocalise it. I think we may have a new case, which includes the leading actor. She seems to play a big part in this case as much as the play. I also want to witness myself if she was as good as they talked about.”

“It’s okay, Sherlock, just for once.”

Sherlock baffled,” What do you mean by ‘just once’? This is a case just like the others, you don’t want to solve cases anymore?”

“No,” insisted John, “All I’m saying is: it’s okay to be a human just for once.It’s okay to take interest in a play, film or a person-”

“-I AM NOT INTERESTED,JOHN,”

It was too late to deny, John was already going upstairs, with a smug smirk of a self-proud mother who has just embarrassed their teenager.

You have once again saluted the audience, holding hands with your teammates. A little stronger than usual maybe, you didn’t want to throw the decors and people off the stage. Your hands were trembling more since you couldn’t stop the seconds passing; and your head got dizzier every movement, with the help of flashing stage lights. Mavis, your co-actor since high school, leaned over your ear; “You always get so excited when it ends!” she whispered without knowing anything.

You shot your perfect, warmest smile as your eyes wandered around the place in case anyone was suspicious. You locked your eyes with an awfully familiar man around your age, with curly hair falling on his forehead and eyes piercing onto you. He knew, he knew something and made it clear. He knew you.

”There she is,” you saw him whispering to his friend. You could listen to them is you focused enough, thanks to not being so human.

But you choose to not hear anything.Thanks to your instincts being quite active this afternoon, every word had felt no different than a knife stabbing her ears. All of this pain was because you couldn’t use your power today. You were a bomb waiting to explode, your hands itching to throw people to the walls and your screams desired to ruin every window in the city.

The torture soon ends, but always leaves you shaken up. You turned from the left corner of the entrance of the theatre and entered the cafe where you have tea every night after performance. You didn’t die to drink it every night actually, yet the calming mix thing of this cafe could put an angry elephant down. Naturally, you could calm down too. It eased your nerves and relaxed your muscles which helped you overcoming your power. I you didn’t bother to control your powers, let’s say, no one nearby could survive.

Whatever, you took your usual seat and smiled at the kind young waiter. You knew each other now, so you didn’t have to talk.(dreamy isn’t it? not having to talk?) You looked out of the window, watching the shiny cars passing by and colourful lights dancing. You slowly turned to the man who just sat in front of you, his arms crossed on the table and eyes gazing you in a weird expression between curious and astonished. Admiring and contemptuous. Familiar and hateful. Friendly and strange.

“I have to say I am totally astonished by your acting,” he started. You were right about astonished. You smiled firmly, just because this one was choosing his words firmly. If he is one of those creeps you would send him off. But you had to be careful these days, anyone could lead you to the stalker.

“You come here often.”

“Yes, it’s not new. Everyone who has taken interest in stalking me knows.”

He let out a chuckle which you didn’t expect to be this natural.”Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Ironic, since I have come to apologise for making you uncomfortable.”

His gaze took a lovely, apologising, soft form, which could melt your heart if you didn’t realise him checking for your expressions in between seconds. He was trying to impress you, for what?

“It’s not very comforting of you when you follow me to a cafe.”

“So it did,” he said, paying too much attention on your hands while you reached out to your tea.

“Is he bothering you miss?” asked the waiter protectively, his voice a few octave deeper than usual.

“I am fine, thank you Oscar.” you watched him walking away with a nod.”So what did what?”

“Me. Looking at you. You noticed me in hundreds of people. You saw us talking about you.”

“Please don’t start with that ‘love-at-first-sight-soulmate’ shit.”

“I was actually going to start with ‘you-somehow-know-you-are-in-danger’ shit.”

Your mouth dropped with his super sassy mic drop. You had to be clueless, oblivious and self centred now. You were a normal person now.

“Is this a threat? I am amused.” you smirked, don’t let them him the fear.

“No,” he rolled his eyes, “This is an offer.”

“I am Sherlock Holmes.”

“OH!” you relaxed, “I know you, (y/n)(s/n).” you answered shaking his hand.

"Come on, drink it. You seem to be dying for it."

You reached to the cuppa, not being able to hide your hands. As soon as this herbal smell filled your nose and followed it's way to your heart, a soft needy smile appeared on your lips. You felt your muscles getting back to normal.You opened your eyes.

"Now look," you threatened suddenly," if you are here to investigate my parents' death and sue me for it..."

He was more focused now, his gaze melted down to a more intense, even a curious one.

"I am tired. I am tired of this. For all my teenage years, my past, people defined me as a liar. So keep going, keep evoking my traumas. You won’t find what you’re looking for."

"There is a huge misunderstanding, "

He comforted you, leaning more onto the table, you almost loved this caring facade, a pair of eyes; signing no danger, no threat but just a simple caring feeling, were more than enough to let your guard down and believing someone. Just this once.

"I don't want to sue you. I offer you my help. Someone has opened your case again."

This was too much for you, with all energy trapped in your body your heart started to ache, your hands trembling in a way no one could stop.

"Trembling hands."

"What?"

"Show them."

You obeyed, held them up in front of him.

"I thought tea would help you."

"It does. When no one triggers me."

"Everything could trigger you. You live alone in the house your very own parents committed suicide. You don't even have pets which is surprising because you love animals, judging by a different cat and dog fur on your pants, coat, jumper, pretty much everywhere. You also have been avoiding your therapist, judging by the notification sound that you didn't answer after seeing the name. And no, it can not be your lover because you are alone live alone and have no attempt on your physical self-care, in addition, the cafe you go nearly every day or your friend group doesn't look for someone else after you arrive on your own. But those are not clear assumptions, knowing what your parents like is enough to assume you prefer to be single. You are alone for a reason. You think you’re dangerous.

So you live alone, have no one, and Scotland Yard is investigating you. You get stalked and for a reason, you always stay sharp and have a very defensive observant personality.

You are interesting enough for me. I will take your case."

"Is this a nerd way of asking for my number? If it is I will say yes."

"No, it's better, it is a smart way to interest you."

" What for? Why will you help me?"

" Because there is a game waiting for me,” he sighed, “and I am bored."

"Fine, this is my number here-"

"I already have it!"

Then he rushed out, putting his collars up, ruffling his hair.

A/N: I want to thank @fanfictionislovefanfictioni-blog for the request!

#bbc sherlock #Sherlock Holmes #john watson #johnlock #reader insert #reader x sherlock #jim moriarty #murder #slowburn #slowburn romance #fanfiction #sherlock x reader #sherlock fanfiction #moftiss #this is my first fic

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truethingsiwishicouldsay · 5 years ago

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*sigh*

My guy’s best friend is basically a mostly-non-asshole version of a neckbeard. He’s neurotypical, but is incredibly socially awkward in that “I don’t know when I’m making everyone uncomfortable because I’m genuinely not paying any attention” sort of way. His troubling behavior isn’t enough for us to cut him off, but they have forced us to call him on it multiple times so he’ll get his shit under better control. Examples:

Over 50 but staaaaaares at girls just out of their teens until we have to confront him about it

Obsessed with hentai, genderbend web comics, unsettling assbaby/genderbend/dubcon fanfics, and furry porn, all of which he’s constantly bombarding us with links to

Neglects things like bathing and grooming until he looks like a hairy greaseball

Constantly lets toxic people latch onto him, then sides with them when we try to point out why he should flee from their criminal dumpster-fire asses

Refuses to get treatment or do anything about his depression even though treatment would be completely free for him

Spent four years trying to use me as his therapist and flipped out when I told him that enough was enough and that his insurance would fully cover an actual professional

Has driven away some of our other friends with his behavior to the point where we can’t invite him to group events

Basically, a slightly more whiny, creepy and unwashed version of Bill Daughtry from King of the Hill.

He is now in his mid fifties and has decided that, since he’s a bottom, likes genderbend media and cooking, and keeps being manipulated by the trans FELON who lives downstairs, that he must be a trans woman. That all his misery, which is largely self-inflicted or because of neglected health issues, is actually the result of unacknowledged womanhood.

This is not going to end well.

He’s taking the combined pain of social ostracism due to selfish obliviousness, of self-neglect, of life not being like his fantasies, and of constantly being conned by TERRIBLE “friends” who zero in on his vulnerabilities, and deciding to blame all of it on dysphoria. He’s convincing himself that transitioning will somehow solve all his problems. And if he goes through with it and then it doesn’t, which it won’t, he may kill himself.

Now keep in mind, he’s constantly trying to dump his emotional shit on me, so I’ve got a front and center seat to this trainwreck. I have tried to explain to him that he needs to talk to an actual therapist about this situation, but he would rather listen to the advice of the neighbor, who literally went to jail for ripping people off and is constantly “borrowing money”.

The neighbor, who came out as trans in jail (of course), is super-manipulative and controlling and has a violent temper, literally won’t leave our friend alone. She love-bombs, she crosses boundaries constantly--she basically acts like a cult member looking for new recruits. He’s in an affordable housing unit so moving is difficult, and he won’t shut her out anyway because he loves any attention that he doesn’t have to work for or reciprocate.

And I have no doubt that he wouldn’t be turning into another middle-aged, white, computer-nerdy self-ident trainwreck if he wasn’t being aggressively recruited by a literal criminal who went to jail for manipulating people. I have no doubt that if he had a good therapist and this leech hadn’t latched onto him, he would have made his peace with being slightly GNC and gone on with his life.

Instead, he’s bugging an almost completely GNC autistic woman for tips on being more “womanly”, only to be mystified when I tell him that I consider gender roles to be bullshit in the first place and don’t care about conforming to them. The oblivious fuck has known me for fifteen years, yet somehow he never noticed that I don’t wear makeup, heels or jewelry. Now he wants tips on wearing them. From me. Because I’m a woman, and must somehow magically know about all that shit.

He asked me earlier today if I was actually a closeted trans man, and I wanted to fucking punch him. This gender nonsense is out of control. I have heard it called the “trans cult” before, and I think that’s about three steps too far...

...but there are in fact trans people who treat it like a cult, and who are actively recruiting vulnerable people for that cult. And our poor, stupid friend, who listens to criminals over his oldest and closest friends, may be next.

#transactivism gone wrong #trans cult #gnc is not trans #gender nonsense #dangit Bill

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thepolycats · 8 years ago

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#i told my therapist today that about the fact that i get super obsessed with things for really concentrated periods #and then essentially suck the life outta it and move on to something else in a couple months time #and that its been going on since i was four #and she just laughed and was like 'its good to be passionate about things'#which really bugged me bc yeah #i guess that's true #but i find it so irritating i feel compelled to find out everything there is to know about this one 'thing'#and for ages its the only thing i can rly think abt? and know how to talk about #and i cant focus on anything else and it annoys the crap outta everyone around me askaksk #in case u didnt know #rn its rd #lots of tags #sorry #i just find it irritating bc ppl think im just 'being extra' no i literally cannot focus on anything else ok #idk why im even posting this on here but its almost 1am and im still iffy about it

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lostinathoughtonceagain · 5 years ago

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Im not sure where to start although i feel like i alwyas start with that.My mom says i seem to be doing alot better and inn truth i am. I feel more myself and joyous and mre personality, and than theres still an emptiness that creeps in. The sort of weird shame feeling i used to get in mornings or without a shirt on, i got it today after grabbing clothes from my moms. maybe this is just a personal issue but im trying not to isolate myself in my emotions. TI appreicate and find it hard to understand the idea of common humanity. It is true humans all epereince these emotions and it is only to ones disadvantage when we tell ourselves were the only ones who have ever felt these emotions. In truth we are the only ones who experience things given we all have different perspectives, childhoods, personalities, and biology of our brains.. yet i think that an important to try to find the common humanity. empathy, relating to one another. we are more alike than we are different. YOu know when your on the freeway and you wonder where are all these people going. Myabe some are picking up there kids, going to a booty call, stopping to grab bananas at the store, and we wont ever know, everyone is all doing there own thing, eveyone is jsut driving just going to work doing things and im wo dering if anyone else is freaked out about what is happening. Why the hell are we here?n why iseveryone not freaking out with the little time we have, i want to make the most out of what is happeing i dont want to waste any more time not being where i want to be, i wanted to be skinny so i can go on with my life. But i geuess thats alos the point of life. ive been so worried about living that i havnt actually been living. Im failing at an attempt to handle my shit. I look back on the past and how come i can only think, mostly think of the bad things. The relationships that i shouldve ended sooner cuz i didnt really lvoe them as i thought love would be. THey were all merely a disspointment. That sounds rude but to put it this way i alwyas thought there was something better for me. MY parents used to say at times “its never enough for you katie” maybe that is true. maybe im never satisidef. Maybe it was because they were tired and had tried there best and i failed because my needs wernt meant. not that they were needs. I think back to guys ive hooked up with and wish i had higher standards. why did i find satisfaction in attention from people that didnt even care about me. WHen guys used me and i was glad to let them. Especailly when i had previous ly had crsushes on them. FUCK BOYS WITH J names. i dont know why im writing as if im writing a story. maybe it makes it easier maybeim trying to articulate my thoughts into something there not. I think about things that have happened and hope i can maybe use them as a testimony maybe ill meet the love of my life adn get to share all these stories... but i dont things play out like that and thats a weird perspective to have on things thsat occur. Like as if im a narrator. I would get so ecited to send cute pictures of myself when i was baby and show my boyfriends, or share things with them but then i realized something. they dont care, well definlty not like me. That ecitement about it is not the same as the one im epereiecning and when i was sent baby pictures of them, i didnt feel that warmth in my heart. maybe that makes me a bitch or emotionally disconnected. but how do i know if im feelin. what connections have i made. I used to want to be under the influence and gina my therapist said that people go to substances to feel connection. When i was on coke, life was beautiful i could talk to anyoe and everyone adn words flowed so well. In my head, looking back i probably looked like a crack head and thats the reality of it. I can manipulate my reality but to what is its value if its a lie. if no one else feels or sees what im seeing. ona nother thought i think we can make up these sotries in our heads that arnt even true. like somone tells us something or we feel a certain way about ourself so and it ends upso our whole olives our affected by this painting in our head only to find out no one sees what were seeing. my dad said that we can change the past, welll we can change our past by changing how we look at it. and i think if we could grasp it it would change our lives. I think that i could look back and not feel that shame, or not feel that embarressment. But am i not a sum of all the words thoughts and actions ive done or had uot o this point? thats depressing, but if it were something i was proud of then yes i would like to be. but the truth is all wehave is the now and you can start now being a totally different person, but you cant run away from all the consequences of the past i guess they jsut dont matter if you decide to change. but then what about bridges burned. i guess my plan b ina sense is to run away to another country. but then theres legal issues and this whole system and ates and bad guys and tso m8uch to worry about that i dont feela sense of freedom. my information is online and under a sytem and i undertsadn why i just wish everything could be quiet for sa sec. mayeb i dont want to be aktie stowers anymore. I get jealos of girls born and raised pretyy. all ive done is starved myself in the process of becoming what i want to be but thats not even me. if i have to starve to et there then i feel as though i dont actuallyl deserve to be skinny. and i fee l so vain for obsessing over this fucking thought. iw anted to be skinny this is what ive said from the beginging can someoine please help me do it. the probelm is that im in treatment for anoreica sub purge type and the reality is that i cant lose weight withought going to etreme measures. it became the most important thing in my life and ive been strung up on the same thought since fucking march of 2018. talk about time wasted. although i know thats no way of looking at it. ive learned lessons and have ad so many beautiufl things happpen. I get told very kind things about myself. i wonder if im actually a kind person or i only do things simply to be a kind person. if eel kinda selfish but i guess we all are. i mean think about how amny bad things are happening in this world and children starving and here i am buying things i dont need anf focuing on myself. but im not doing anything about it. i mean i try to tip etra give to homless ifi can i just feel guilt because i could be doing more but ijalso know that im not responsibly to save the world. jsut seems wrong the way things are. thats why i believe everyone goes to heaven. maybe because i cant wrap my head around the possily fact that barrett wouldnt and also becasue the idea of eternal damnation dosnt seem like the character of a god i want to serve. i see so much bullshit in the church and i just dont know . am i jsut angry. I became so jdugemntal of those judging me and thats just as worse but when theres almost a cluba nd you dont fit into there critera it fucking hutts. and that dosnt feel liek jesus i think jesus wouldnt let us be seperated by rleigion or if you drank last weekend. I think we should all unite and love each other and thats what reallly matters. yet here i am obsessed over being skinny. im down to 4 hour as of yesterday and i feel so much better i do. i just wish i could have one long 2 day therapy session whre i fucking figure out all my shit. ive gone to so much therapy and its been etremly helpful i jsut dont wanna waste anymore time with this baggage. I dont wanna go a minute longer when i could giure all this out. i guess what im saying is i want my life tp be an open canvas and not be unravveling and my childhood issues poopping up.. i want to go into the fututre knowing what i know adn epeireicning my life as it plays out. but i am 18 ishouldnt be thinking this much into things huh i should just let it be and lvie my life. i should be doung homework an teting my frienfds or going on a date. but thats not ther eality of things and alos i think ill look abck and things will be different. IOm also int reatment rn so oviously my situation is not exactly normal. i really do love to write i used to always want to be an author. but i dont kno0w anymore. i jsut dont really like how the sytem works i hate how we all have to go to college amd study things i dont give a fuck about and then some struggle at there 9-5 to merely surve eand ig uess i dont like the thoughr of that. and i know were suppsoed to find joys in the little things i think things are jsut freaking me out. iw ant to quit smoking nicatine but everyday i go out and do it. ig uess that meanns i dont really want to stop because if i did i would. i and then i feel slightly guilty and opackiy because his is the only boduy im given. like does that not freak everyone out. this is the only way we are able to eperience life. think about how quickly it can be ended. i think that is too much pwier overmyself. nmot that im suicidal but i do think i hgave the power to find out super son what is after this life. judgment day, pure nothingness, maybe ill become a=one of the many ants i ahev enjoyed killed as a punsihemtn for msyelf. or hoe[fully and maybe ill entire a heaven with a lovuing god. a state of being with loved ones. I think thats why people like the idea of heavn the idea that you will see people later. but that discount the factof pain. when someones child dies they dont feel any less pain because a verse about being reunited with the,. because the truht im scared to tyee is that theres a possibility heaven isnt rela. and the loved one that is lost will never be in your reaach again.i feel sad for how ome peoples lifeves go. i hope they get a chance in the after life to have what they wanted. but then i think abotu abd guys. i wouldnt want them in my heaven. i guess maybe who we all our at our core is who would be in heaven beyond all the nasty. yet i dont believ flesh is nasty and i dont believ trying my whole life to not be something i was made to be. if my flesh is evil adn mankind is doomed what the fuck is that. i dont think god would set us upnto fail and i believ ehe understands we are human. and gpd is god and god knew everything that was going to happen up to npw. u know whats crazy is that on the time line we are on the edge of what is to come. being aluive rn. and its crazy that i wont be here in 100 years. ill be merely history. but rn we are whats happneing 7:12 november 11th. we are up to datebecause we are merely aliver. unless there is different universes and this is m,erely a simulation. but besides the point. barrett was talking about just how many books songs and information there is. that makes me pancik there is so many people so many things i could learn and musici could listen to that no one can listen to it all. maybe theresa song out there that is my favorite son that ill never get to lsiten to but i gues si jsut have to trust that the universe ligns up as it should and my life will happen as it should. and alll these things are happneing and were floating in the middle of space and yet i feel like people arnt freaking out. like what hthe actual fuck is happneing. and why do iu want to soedn my one life doing shit that dosn matter or something i dont even love. but thats how life works because you have to have moneya nd i do love bying things. and i jsut need to relax. because when people look back on there past they think if i could only tell msyelf its going to be okaya nd to have fun. why cant i do taht i mean i can but tehn these thughts come in. iwant to be skinny i also love food. starving was easy and i like d seeing my bones show,. i wanted people to see me and know i was hurting but people dont wanna be sround sa dpeople i guess i just wanted o be rescued. and at the same time it was nice to focus on the thingsd because even if all went ot hell if i restricted enought hat was okay my eating idsorder would tell me that everything was going to be okay because i was taking care of the one thing i actaully wanted. writing this makes me sound crazy to msyelf. i have so many things i want to larn and do and so having an eating disorder makes me feel limated. amd truly it does limit me. it dosnt allow me to worry and think about these tihngs. i just really want to be skinnya dn i dont know where this started or why its so impiortant but i just am not a fann of my boyd. and i know tis terirble because im more than m y body and i know i cant stave mtyself and i know that this makes me self cenetred i know that it didnt pkay out as the damsel in distress that i wanted i know wthat i pushed loved ones away and made desisions taht really arnt alligned with my values because truly i didnt care i just wanted to get skinny i know i didnt look healthy bu in my mind that s the best ive eever looked. i know that the husband i meet is going to lvoe me for whats beond my appreance so it dosnt matter and getting atention from others isnt satisying and only leaves me feeling empty i knwo lifes to short to count your calories, to walk around feeling fraila nd loung every seconds. to reach 109 and not see a body close to what was at 116. to talk about numbers because they w]makr improtant parts of my life adn to allso swear that i dont care that much about the numbers. i care about the look. but if what they say is true and i ahve body dismprhia thats impossible. they say the eating idpsrder says itll never be enough. it will nevr be satisiuded. “ its never enough katie” never enough

and so maybe its me maybe im just this warped person. why do memories come back so weird and hwy did i have su h weird thoughts a s f\child. why do i get filled with so much rage. somtiems i think im the most grogeous girl and others i want to killmsyelf because i fel worthless. imm not suicdial but i can remeberthe first time i thought about killing kmyself i was in the abck seat of the car my brothers wre all teasing me about soething but for whatecer reason i was upset by it. i remebr crying and thinking how bad thye would feel if i killed myself. i carried this idealation iwht me later on. gina says i used this as a coping skill.w whenevr someone was mean, didnt say the right thing, didnt invite me, or a aprent said something hurtful. o thouhgt about it as if i were a ghost. watching how sad they were that they had not done better with me. that they said those angry words last to me instead of teeling me uhow much they lvoed me. that when they gossiped ghey felt so bad after because i was dead. i sometimes wish i could watch this unfold. but thats demented and evil. my ghost smiling with satifdaction as she watches loved one who id love and people who were simply lvingnthere life be affected by this. what good would it do to me or them. it would ruin them, does thaa amke mf evil. and then i realzie thats not how death wokrs. ill go to wahtevr is after this.a dm why would i waste my eistence on a disguestingnromantizsm of revenge. shpuld move on better msyelf and make connections and share with my lovedones hwen theyve hurt me or that i need more love. i love treamnt. i love the lif3 im having. besids hating my body i love doing art and larning life skills and if eel like pooeple love me for me there and i can really be myself and support others. but i cant live my life in treatment. i want to relapse theres a few pros to this. one i get skinny againa dn can take pcitures while im skinnya dn try to do it a healthier way. 2 i can jsut go back to treatment and 3 thats a big fuck you to insuracne and theyll realize i coudlve used more help. my ancupucture lady said i need to let people help me adn its tru. i can read boooks hae copnversations go toa therapist but what goofd does it do if its not evn sticking with me. if i dont allow it to change me. im so stuck in that i want to be skinny. but im also tired of haojng my body, the thought about being okay iwht my body is sad to. ill jsut be ugly and not care? amd i wont be ablr to beas beautiful as i want to be. the law of attraction streases me out to because what if everytihng im writing is manif3sting as we speak. hut io cant just iugnore all thse thoughts. its good to journl ane write. i smoked the other night and told susan and brooke but lied to my treatment team. but honestly i was anxious the whole time and outside of playing with myself and dougna trippy spiritaul mediaiton itwasnt the best time. it ,made me realize i enjoy beig sober bcecause i can do lall the things i want to do and not be stupid and i can be mindful. but then i feel a little desperate at the idea of not having anys ubstances. i sjsut need to create a good ralit y formyself. also i just don tfeel like im the little blon girl in my baby photos like me and her arnt \even the same person but i am i am her in 18 year old form. i jsut dont even know who i am or whats happening. iw ant to chilla dn i need to find balance. maybe this is because my brain has more room oto think about thoings. it kinda hurts me that my mom dsont know that much about eating disorders but yet she says she knows how bad these thionhd can get. likes he can talk so much about me needing help and this and that and yet she hasnt veen taken the tiem to udnerstand what it is im goi g throug. but i shoudlnt epect her to i dont evn knkw what is happneing. cons of relasping is more time wwasting life farther form my hoal. what is my goal all i can think abou t is working on my body bye cercising and eating healthy after treatment. iu dont underdstand why people dopnt think this is a huge thing for me. it makes it so i cant wear what. im so tired of caring. i want to get out of my head. but reality is i am katie and i have to deal wiht whats going on it dosnt do any good whining about it. another con is that my family would be disapinted. im kinda scared i ahev cancer ir im going ot die and jus stop breatinh. its probaly jsut anxiety . nbut i think about the drugs ive done and all that ive smoked and when ive starved and i wonder if im jsut shutting gdown. but i guess were all shutting down. but you cant tell kids these tihngs they dont care and they wouldnt undertsnad. i guess im jsut freaking out at my very eistence. im also very thankful to ebe alive. the fact were all ehsiting rn is crazy i think everything happens for a reason and theres a beautiful lessona nd “work of art called love” desinged by the creator. i ksut dpnt think itds what people think its actaully is. julian is just dsigusing why was i ever ino him. but i cant stop 16 year old me by being into him. but he really wasa dick adn oi dont think hes aw the value in me. my idea of him thinking that was because hesa lot uglier than me or the line in fredys song where he says “ why would a girl like you fall for a guy like me” and he saud thatr eminded him of us i thought that was so sweet. MO that dosnt mean he values me. why was i so okay with accepting bullshit.a nd nathan. i really liked nathan we were bestfriends. but i got really cazy jealous. i was supposed to eat2 and ahalf hours ago and im not rally hungry. hence my hunger ques are off. i lost 4 lbs over the weekedn and im on weight restoration i was given till friday before i have tonadd even more additions because im not supposed to be lsoing weight. but i dint feel sad baout it. i felt eciteed i guess my bodys ina place where it can lsoe weight easily. i feel like i should take advantage of it. is this litterally the eating disorder tuyping as we speak am i poseed. it is katie stowers. i guess thats what an eating idorder does. i think i ought to steer clear of caffense and weed. make things a little less harde.r and truly i shuld try to quit nicatine. ots just so nice to do but i think i ought to just not do it. i think idts a porblem because i can already mpciture me going outside after break and smoking. “evntually ill quit shes aid” when i quoted julien baker in her song ahppy to be hee to esther it says “ i miss you the way that i miss nicatine” she waled away after. felt a little judged honeslt and i dont think it was cuz of me but i am better than to smoke nicatine. i think im gonna not do it tomorow. adn if i succeed well see about friday. but it is a hbit i shoudl break. but anyways theres a lot to worry about and be ecited about to and im having a hard time manging it all. and i opuld go on times ten of whats been happneing in my brain ina therap y session but it dosnt happne.

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haleighdennis · 5 years ago

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Petscop Scared Me. Here’s Why…

At this creepy time of year I made it my business to research and create some creepy artwork inspired by games such as #bendyandtheinkmachine

View my Insta for art-related content: https://www.instagram.com/dennis.haleigh/

I had never really been interested in the #horror genre before, and #bendy was a flippin’ good game to start with. I strongly recommend it. (Bonus points if you watch #razzbowski ‘s lets play. Super, super entertaining.)

After learning about bendy, I wanted to research some more of that scary goodness, but honestly, I can’t handle gore or gross stuff. I figured, if I stuck to the cartoon-y stuff, I wouldn’t be scared crapless.

I don’t think I could have gotten things more backwards. I couldn’t stand #fnaf for instance. Too scary.

Jeez. Who’d-a thought!?!?!?!?!??????????

Then, I dug into #dokidokiliteratureclub and its various mods. Big mistake.

THEN I heard that if you like #dokidoki you should check out [insert various other foreign and obscure meta game titles here]. These effectively terrified me. But there was something wrong with my fears. They were just that – fears of the “what if,” with no real grounding in reality.

“What if my stuffed animals are evil?” A question I hadn’t seriously considered since watching Toy Story 2 in elementary school.

“What if cartoons are out to get us?”

And worst of all: “What if game characters can manipulate the world around me?”

Studying game lore led me to creepypasta, which is by far some of the most baseless fearmongering, jumpscare-driven clickbait that exists on the internet. Also some of the finest entertainment for those such as myself who astonishingly lead dull lives in the real world.

Studying the creepy led me to discover a deep dark secret of moviemaking, gaming and creative industries in general: turns out, my darkest fears were true. Entertainment has the ability reach directly out of our screens – be they VR headsets, phones, computers or TVs – and effect the real world. Your drawings can peel off of their paper and effect the environment around you.

Don’t believe me? Well today, grasshopper, I want to talk about #petscop

I would strongly recommend viewing this series if you are 13+ and like a good scare (warnings for language and disturbing content). If you’re like me and you want to explore the lore and the alleged basis of media, Petscop is richer than deep dark hot chocolate and an engaging book by the campfire in the dead of winter.

There’s one catch: The alleged basis in reality I referenced above will make your blood run cold, not due to a well-placed jumpscare or frightening imagery, but because the game forces you to do the following:

1) Look beyond the game

2) Look past yourself

3) Challenge yourself

Seriously. That’s the scary part. Allow me to explain…

****MILD SPOILERS FOR PETSCOP BELOW****

The “dark secret” of Petscop is that this series that looks cute on the surface is really a cautionary tale about #childabuseawareness (#abuseawareness ). The fictional player in Petscop accumulates information over time relating to several cases of abuse and murder. The player is shocked by what he learns and sees. Some internet theorists assume that the entire game of Petscop is supposed to demonstrate an #AI training ground, where an unknown individual is attempting to re-create the scenarios surrounding these deaths of various children. Play testers like our fictional guide are AIs involved in this experiment.

In fact, the truth is, the characters in this goofy game has a life outside of their code. And, no, I’m not talking about creepypasta Sonic.exe materializing as a plushie to kill you dead.

I’m talking about references within the game to real child abuse and murder. It’s not a pretty thing to research. Oh. You thought you’d just come for a quick scare and then you’d be merrily on your way? Fat chance. Turns out, there is heavy implication suggesting that Petscop was created as more than just another creepypasta clickbait thrillride. It actually tries its best to make its viewers *over-dramatic gasp* think.

How does it do this, you ask? By alluding strongly to a true story about a young girl who was abused and murdered by her adopted parent and several “therapists” and “professionals.” This was all part of a shockingly vain (and I mean doomed from the start) attempt to make the child feel natural love her new mother. When the girl reacted like anyone would to blatant abuse and bullying, she was murdered in cold blood. I won’t post the full story here cause its some heavy stuff, but see the below links if you want to learn more. WARNING: disturbing content. 13+ only please.

Game Theory: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oC88jsc-wpg

ADVOTI: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VrODA-ybqdE

No, I don’t think I’ll be watching a Let’s Play of #thebindingofisaac any time. Ever.

Now, I look back on ALL the above-mentioned fear-filled games and can’t help but thinking that they are dealing with serious topics a bit too lightly. Don’t’ get me wrong. No one is going to blame you for enjoying some haunted fun this #halloween but I would ask you to consider – and remember – the truehorror stories of our age. Be solemn for those who have suffered and pray fervently for those who inflict the suffering (forgiveness and second-chances are not always a popular opinion, but hey). Pray for those who have a duty to pass judgement – that they would help make wrongs right – and that the stories would of victims be told and paid attention to with the same viral awareness of the poor-audio, one-off indie art project that viewers of Petscop have become obsessed with.

And, most of all, don’t dwell in the dark. With #Christmas and #Thanksgiving just around the corner. Make a change in yourself. Reach out. Become that stereotypical charitable little old lady who encourages the downtrodden, picks up the fallen and loves the lost ones of this world. Who knows? You, dear reader, may have been lost on your journey once upon a time. Can you remember who came alongside and helped you? No? News flash: we all need someone like that at some point in our lives. The meaning of life is to be that person constantly. It’s not easy. It’s not always fun. But it has its rewards.

And if you are of religious conviction like myself, your love and kindness – choosing to forgive vs. hold a grudge; offering a smile instead of being just another frown – has an eternal impact because 1) right and wrong exist, 2) God exists and 3) the people you interact with will literally exist forever.

BRB ya’ll. I need to check out another horror game.

#adoption #fostersystem

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sylferino · 5 years ago

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🐸 50 QUESTIONS TAGS 🐸

tagged by @onaji-yume

1. What takes up too much of your time? honestly? tumblr

2. What makes your day better? sweets and relaxation.

3. What’s the best thing that happened to you today? today is the first day of classes, so probably the fact that both of my classes seem doable and i have a friend in one of them

4. What fictional place would you like to go to? polnareffland

5. Are you good at giving advice? yes! and i love giving people advice!

6. Do you have a mental illness? yeah baby, in fact my doctor gave me one of those doctor tests for bpd but i dont think i have it. though i might have others im not diagnosed in

7. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? no thank good, that shit sound scary

8. What musician inspires you the most? fumika

9. Have you ever fallen in love? yeah i think i have

10. What’s your dream date? a hangout so normal and ordinary that none of us realize its a date

11. What do others notice about you? this question is the source of so much of my anxiety LMAO

12. What’s an annoying habit you have? i clip my nails obsessively. ive always been obsessed with like grooming my nails, for as long as i remember, ive never had long nails :/

13. Do you still talk to your first love? i dont know who my first love is

14. How many exes do you have? one

15. How many songs are in your playlist? i, a shuffle all kinda bitch, have 273 songs on my phone

16. What instruments can you play? none!!!!! i dont understand music

17. What do you have the most pictures of? i have so many pictures of fumika. thousands...... like well over 20gb of pictures of her....

18. Where would you like to go before you die? mojave desert, japan, iceland, nd rural russia probably

19. What’s your zodiac? aquarius

20. Do you relate to it? no? i dont know how aquariuses are supposed to be

21. What is happiness to you? fulfillment

22. Are you going through anything right now? haghaghhgahhg yeah

23. What’s the worst decision you ever made? i dont know? theres not much that keeps me up at night thats not the fearful anticipation of the future. like what if i did this instead of that back then? no use in thinking about how the past could have changed unless youre thinking about the future. biologically, you only remember the past to help you make better decisions in the future.

24. What’s your favorite store? hhhngghgnhn grocery store

25. What’s your opinion about abortion? pro choice

26. Do you keep a bucket list? no

27. Do you have a favorite album? n/a

28. What do you want for your birthday? unrealistically? new computer/computer parts. realistically? new headset

29. What are people’s first impressions of you? people always used to think i was scary but i hope thats not that case anymore. i hope they think im kind but dont take any shit. also that im not straight

30. What age do you seem according to most people? not sure, but probably older. never mind i just asked my friend and they said 6. so i guess im 6

31. Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping? next to my head to MAKE SURE i can hear the alarm

32. What word do you say the most? dope prolly

33. What’s the oldest age you would date? 25, but thats generalizing

34. What’s the youngest you would date? 19 or 18, which is only one/two years younger, but i definitely wouldnt date anyone under 18

35. What job/career do most people say would suit you? ive like only been told id be a good therapist because i like listening to peoples problems. but people always say im very creative so i’ll take that as them saying id be a good artist.

36. What’s your favorite music genre? im not super into music but i guess rock

37. If you could live in any country in the world, where would it be? i literally have no answer for this. i have no idea

38. What is your current favorite song? iunno

39. How long have you had this blog for? 2013? iirc

40. What are you excited for? thursday, so i can go home after the first week of school

41. Are you a better talker or listener? listener. i suck shit at talking

42. What was the last productive thing you did? went to class?

43. What do you want for Christmas? see: number 28

44. What class do you get the best grades in? art lol. even now in college my best grades are in arts, my major.

45. On a scale of 1-10, how are you feeling right now? 5. could be worse

46. What can you see yourself doing in ten years? 2029 doesnt seem like a real year but i’ll humor you. i have no plans but hopefully i’ll be making decent money from a masters degree in sculpture. i mean hopefully hopefully we’d all have toppled the united states and im welding metal parts onto random pieces in a factory line but like whatever right?

47. When did you get your first heartbreak? rip to you but im different

48. What age do you want to get married? when im ready

49. What career did you want to have as a child? artist! then i learned about capitalism and didnt want to be an artist anymore. then i stopped caring

50. What do you crave right now? solitude

im tagging @expcake @boxinc @sm980 @kisamas AND any of my other mutuals ;) youre encouraged to do this. but if you dont want to, dont worry about it

#thank you for tagging me in this is was a good way to spend some time :)

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alittleroseandhoneyblog-blog · 6 years ago

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Unapologetic - Confessions of an Imperfect Human

It is unpleasant and disturbing to be rejected. It is deeply satisfying to be accepted – Stephen Covey

That word “validation” has become so tainted for me, reminding me of my obsessive need to feel secure in my decisions both personally and professionally, a year ago I would have told you that all I wanted were for people to like me, that growing up in the light leaves you desperate to always be the best, to make people aware of what meals were brought to the table, A year ago I would have told you that every move I made was dictated by people I trust edand someone who never had any good intentions for me at all – but as he was my superior, the person who held my professional growth in his hands- I wanted his approval – and with that came the desperate need to make someone else happy, even when it didn’t feel right for me and for that the word validation became tainted, it became an addiction and I quickly developed the need for more, I wanted to know that I was doing a good job and that all the work I had been putting in was paying off, not even realizing that my entire decision making abilities were taken over by my need for approval by others- I sacrificed my own ambitions and life to have the approval of someone that in the end, their approval and validation meant Shit!! And you can argue that you are not part of the 100% of man kind that has asked to be validated in some way- but reality is there are common behaviours which we all fail to recognize as approval seeking. Sometimes these behaviours are used as tactical compromise to maybe keep the peace or maybe the situation is really not that important to you – you still don’t believe me…allow me to list 5 and tell me how many you are guilty of –

- Changing or softening your position because someone appears to disapprove.

- Paying insincere compliments to gain approval

- Feeling upset, worried or insulted when someone disagrees with you

- Expressing agreement (verbally or non-verbally) when you do not agree

- Doing something that you do not want to do because you are afraid to say NO!

Guilty Guilty Guilty…

Let’s try 5 more…

- Failing to complain when you have received poor service, or a product not fit for purpose

- Spreading bad news and gossip to gain attention

- Asking permission when it is not required

- Pretending to be knowledgeable or an authority on a subject because you are afraid to admit that there is something you do not know

- Attempting to coax people into paying you compliments and/or getting upset when they fail to do so

Ladies, we ask for validation when we go shopping with our friends and come out to show them or take a selfie to send to them to help us decide, recording artists seek validation when they put their music out there by having listening parties and sending teasers out to radio stations- and parents question their own decisions when it comes to situations regarding their kids so they turn to facebook groups that are made up of thousands of strangers who all have their own opinions on what is considered norm for raising children these days and we think that those are the people qualified to co-parent our children so here we are -all guilty of it- all trying to get the same thing from one person or another- Validation- and yet we think that we shouldn’t seek it because maybe we are considered to be self centered, or self absorbed or maybe simply seeking it leaves us vulnerable to outsiders trying to change our behaviour to favour their needs…my therapist however has convinced me to perceive the word differently –

To break down what the word actually means -

1. the action of checking or proving the validity or accuracy of something.

2. the action of making or declaring something legally or officially acceptable.

3. recognition or affirmation that a person or their feelings or opinions are valid or worthwhile.

In this case all 3 are the same for me – I received some incredible news last week and when my therapist asked me how I felt about it I took a deep breath, sighed and said “validated, which is terrible to say-but exactly how I feel” Puzzled with my answer, she went on to ask why I thought it was “terrible” for me to feel validated and without hesitating I said “because that word is tainted for me” and she asked me to explain-

“you see Susan, taking a stand against sexual harassment, putting yourself in a position where you are vulnerable, open and raw should feel “terrible” and hearing the things people had to say about me was draining and it made me question everything, I spent nights crying myself to sleep wondering where I went wrong, how this all happened- replaying it over and over so much so that that terrible feeling almost became a part of me - but when I got that letter I felt (as I took a deep breathe) “validated” considering for the past few months I’ve been told I needed to be quiet and knowing that I had absolutely no control over what was going to happen next scared me so I did exactly what society told me to do- Change but now for the first time since having come out about “Surviving Wall street” someone heard me and it was finally being taking seriously, it feels amazing to have some control back because for the past year I have had none, it’s such an emotional rollercoaster”…and I went on to tell her that for the first time in 6 months, I slept!

And she just smiled at me – and we sat there quiet for a minute and she made me realize there is a human need to feel validated, that we are pre-disposed to it, because as we’ve grown up we were taught that our feelings should be validated, our dreams encouraged and sought after, our actions whether it be at the office or at home acknowledged not for what you can get in return but for the effort that was put forward in general – it isn’t what we are asking to be validated for that should change, it’s WHO we seek validation from that should change- as CEO of your own life you should be the only person who can validate your emotional well being maybe then we will no longer feel the need to seek validation from men, or our bosses or coworkers or even the random people we see on a day to day basis… We were taught as children that a man can either make us or break us and somewhere down the road that conversation started to change and it wasn’t until recently that women have realized that they don’t need to be validated by any one person and in fact, peoples opinions mean nothing!

I am not even kidding, since the beginning of time (my time, lol) I can remember us (women) altering our behaviour to seek the validation of a man…and how we continue to do it well into adulthood, parenting and so much more- maybe without even realizing it or maybe for reasons we are yet to understand. I am thinking about the women who are going out this week and trying on new shirts for the occasion, desperate to put forth the best first impression - failing to realize that underneath that perfectly applied make up and brand new shirt that she is probably never going to wear again is a down to earth, confident girl who just needs to throw her hair in a pony tail and just be herself – because at the end of the day her personality is her best asset (and you can look super cute in work out clothes too)

Or me, for example- the mama who calls on the 3 strongest and most fierce women I know when I feel the need to be validated - I call my mom when I need my mom (which is almost everyday lol) but when I wanted to file with Human rights my mom was right by my side and when I need that level headed person to talk me out of something - I call my sister because she always gives the best advice and when I need someone to rally with me because my own kid needs to be validated I call my mother in law because without a doubt she always has my back! But without those 3 women I would be left questioning my every move as parent- especially with so many parenting opinions out there these days from breast feeding to circumcision to even how we educate our children- you cannot make a move without the whole world watching, and when the whole world is watching you become terrified to actually be ourselves out of fear someone might have something to say again not only when it comes to being a mama but being a wife or even a woman in general, it’s ridiculous how we change our behaviour, how we adapt our mannerisms, our appearances and our thinking to fit the social norms of today and how we are left with watered down and filtered versions of ourselves- manufactured to fit other people’s needs.

I posted a photo the other day with the caption “Andrea said “just fucking post it, because you look bomb” -I really struggled with making the decision to post it so much so that I stopped myself a few times from making it public, but to be honest I really needed her to say that (not only as a friend but a mama and wife as well) and so within a few minutes of her “validating” my desire to post it, I posted it and while It was the first time I posted something that showed a little more skin (classic sports bra and underwear) it felt empowering and it was no longer a scary thing - I have always been confident enough in my body to show it off “curves for days” as I am told, something I have always been super embarrassed about and ashamed of but this photo was different, this photo made it clear that I have learned to embrace every so called flaw – it showed off how much progress I’ve made both physically and mentally and in one picture you could tell I how much I love my body just the way it was and my husband certainly didn’t have a problem with it being posted (you’re fucking hot” he said lol) The reason I was against originally posting it was simply because it was not “socially acceptable” for me to post something with that much skin (when I am a mom and a wife) even though my bathing suit is considered perfectly acceptable to be photographed in. This goes back to all 10 of those unconscious approval seeking traits that I mentioned earlier, in that moment of self doubt I was guilty of ALL of them and I felt more concerned with people’s opinions of me. “I can’t post that Andrea, do you know how much shit people are going to talk, the disgusting messages I am going to get” all I could think about was that my bother in law follows me, my 15 year old nephew, a few students from work have found their way over to my page and I know that given my circumstances where my desperate need to be liked has landed me in position that is not ideal, I was worried about how it was all going to be perceived…

”She only posted that for attention”

"She just wants the likes”

“Wow, I can’t believe she just posted that”

Before it was even made public I felt ashamed of my body, ashamed of how proud I was for how far I’ve come, ashamed that I wanted to show it off because lets remember just wearing pants with holes in them was seen as an invitation for unwanted sexual advances and I couldn’t imagine the comments I was going to get with that photo being posted-because from my experience, men cannot seem to keep their desires to themselves (even when they legally need to) but let me tell you something- among a few gross and now blocked messages- there were some incredible comments that just made my heart so full and reminded me that my social media is not for anyone else but me and that Andrea was right, I did look bomb and I knew that- and that was actually the only validation that I needed in that moment, the confidence I had to wear that proud - I needed a reminder that you all are guests on my page and have chosen to come there, to follow me and in the end I need to be proud of the content that I decided to put out there that I had control of the message that I was sending to women- so I wanted to share a few of those incredibly kind messages that were sent to me in hopes that you all realize that validation does not need to be tainted- if used correctly “validation” can be inspiring as well.

“You’ve come such a long way since I first met you Jenna, the most important thing was with then and now, you’re smile. Keep doing what you’re doing…you’re amazing..never forget that” – T

“I have been watching your journey for a while and you are inspiration, keep going.”

“you look amazing girl! How much weight have you lost? Keep killing it”

“Girl, you look mint. Soak up all the good feels, you deserve them”

“You look amazing Jenna!! I’m so jealous. How do you manage to look toned and fit and still look thick (in a good way) you’re body is my dream girl”

As I said earlier, there is a message here…. We do not need be ashamed of our bodies, we do not need to be ashamed of being proud of them, we do not need to be ashamed of wanting to show them off and we should be allowed to do that. 90% of the comments (and somewhat dirty comments/messages) were from the women who felt inspired by what I had posted- who made me feel amazing in my own skin- who “Validated” my desire to post that photo- I have been working non-stop these past few months on personal growth, I have taken time off, started meditating, started therapy and grew (and shrank lol) in so many ways… It has been a roller coaster of emotions lately, all for many different reasons but when another woman takes the time out of her day to leave a comment as simple and as beautiful as

“Your confidence is radiant”

Then you can’t help but feel confident, and radiant and like you can take on the world (or a person) without feeling guilty of wanting recognition for it - just make sure it is from the right people, seeking validation from the wrong person or even social media can lead to destructive behaviour even without us realizing we are doing it! And something else to remember – women stand taller when they build one another up- so be a fucking pineapple and stand tall baby- women supporting women is a whole new way of life!

#beapinapple

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lastsonlost · 7 years ago

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Four women met late last month at a restaurant in a Twin Cities suburb, where they spoke for hours, so intently their waiter had trouble getting their drink orders.

Each had a son who had been accused at college of sexual assault. One was expelled and another suspended. The other two were cleared, yet one had contemplated suicide and the other was so crushed he had not returned to school.

The women had been meeting regularly to share notes and commiserate. Now, over red wine in a corner booth, they were finally savoring a victory.

A few days before, Betsy DeVos, the education secretary, had rescinded tough Obama-era guidelines on campus sexual assault, saying they violated principles of fairness, particularly for accused students like their own sons.

“What she is doing with this issue is spot on,” one of the women, Sherry Warner Seefeld, said.

Few issues in education today are as intensely debated as the way colleges deal with sexual misconduct. Women’s groups and victims’ advocates have deplored Ms. DeVos’s moves, saying they will allow colleges to wash their hands of the problem. But a growing corps of legal experts and defense lawyers have argued that the Obama rules created a culture in which accused students, most of them men, were presumed guilty.

And some of the most potent advocates for those men have been a group of women: their own mothers.

Some of the mothers met with Ms. DeVos in July to tell their stories, and Ms. DeVos alluded to them in a speech she gave last month. An advocacy group founded in 2013 by several mothers, Families Advocating for Campus Equality, or FACE, has grown to hundreds of families, who have exchanged tens of thousands of messages through their email list, said Cynthia Garrett, co-president of the group.

The mothers lobby Congress, testify on proposed legislation and policy, and track lawsuits filed by men who say they have been wrongly accused. A bill in the California Legislature that they testified against, which would have enshrined the Obama-era regulations into state law, passed both houses but was vetoed this month by Gov. Jerry Brown, a Democrat, who said it was “time to pause” on the issue.

The group holds twice-yearly meetings, where parents and sons share personal experiences and listen to advice from psychologists and lawyers.

Away from the public eye, families have spent tens of thousands of dollars and dipped into retirement savings to hire lawyers and therapists for their sons. Some have pressured colleges to reconsider punishment or expunge disciplinary notations from transcripts, so that other colleges and employers cannot see them.

Ms. Seefeld said she hired a lawyer and even a public relations firm, and used her political connections as a teachers’ union leader, to try to get the University of North Dakota to reverse her son’s three-year banishment after a woman accused him of nonconsensual sex.

“I was willing to do everything and anything,” Ms. Seefeld said. Her son Caleb Warner was ultimately cleared after the college took a second look at the case.

The mothers’ resolve comes from their raw maternal instinct to protect their children. But several who agreed to interviews also said they did not doubt that their sons’ accusers had felt hurt.

Their sons may not have been falsely accused, the mothers said, but they had been wrongly accused. They made a distinction.

One mother, Judith, said her son had been expelled after having sex with a student who said she had been too intoxicated to give consent.

“In my generation, what these girls are going through was never considered assault,” Judith said. “It was considered, ‘I was stupid and I got embarrassed.’”

Ms. DeVos issued temporary guidance for colleges last month and will invite public comment while developing permanent regulations. Most significantly so far, she has lifted the requirement that colleges use the lowest standard of proof, “preponderance of the evidence,” in deciding whether to uphold a charge of sexual misconduct. Colleges are now free to demand more convincing evidence, a move that the mothers and other advocates for the accused had called for, saying that students should not be punished in cases where there is some doubt about the accusation.

The most active mothers said they stepped forward because they often had more time than their husbands, and because they made a strategic decision that they could be effective on the issue of sexual assault precisely because they are women and, as some described themselves, feminists. “We recognized that power,” Ms. Seefeld said.

Many women, however, feel exactly the opposite way.

A number of women’s groups and victims’ advocates have argued that a tougher standard of proof will discourage women from coming forward. They have not been shy about expressing their view of the mothers as “rape deniers” and misogynists who blame women for inviting male violence against them.

Jessica Davidson, a victim of campus sexual assault and the managing director of End Rape on Campus, said it appeared that the mothers had a strong emotional impact on Ms. DeVos, who separately met with victims, including Ms. Davidson.

“It is of course an immensely difficult thing to believe somebody you love could rape or harm another person,” Ms. Davidson said.

But, she said of the mothers, “I think it’s the wrong thing for them to do to try and push back an entire movement.”

Of a dozen mothers who were interviewed, almost all asked to be identified by their first names only. They said they wanted to protect their sons from being publicly revealed as having been disciplined, or even accused, in a sexual assault case. The mothers obsessively type their sons’ names into Google, and are relieved when their cases do not come up.

Some of the mothers remember the moment they learned their sons had been accused as vividly as other people remember hearing that planes had struck the World Trade Center.

Alison was pushing her cart down the aisle at a supermarket, looking at Tide detergent, when she got the call from her younger son. He had left home for college for the first time about seven weeks before.

“I think I have a problem,” her son said. “It’s bad.”

She felt a flash of irritation.

“How many times have I told you, you need to keep it zippered,” she said she told him.

Then the gravity of the situation sank in. “I need to hire a lawyer,” she thought.

A female student had told the university police that she had been sexually assaulted at an apartment near campus.

As Alison tells it, the woman had propositioned her son and consented to sex. She learned more about her 19-year-old son’s intimate behavior than any mother would want to know, and found herself talking about it “as if it were the grocery list,” she recalled.

Officials at the university declined to comment on the case, citing student confidentiality rules.

According to university documents provided by Alison, her son was cleared. Additionally, a grand jury declined to indict him, she said. But, Alison contends, the investigation should never even have gotten that far, and the damage was already done.

Her son had become a pariah, dropped by his friends and called a rapist by women on campus. The semester after he was cleared he called home, sobbing, to say he could no longer take it and was dropping out, she said.

Five years later, at 24, he has not received a diploma and is trying to ease back into college life by taking courses online.

Alison and her son were among the delegation that met with Ms. DeVos in July. “It was very solemn,” Alison said. “It was as if we all, everyone in the room, had attended the same funeral together.”

Judith, whose son was expelled, said that at first her son did not tell her about the complaint against him, thinking he could handle it alone. She found out when he was taken to a hospital, suicidal.

She described herself as a lifelong Democrat and feminist who went to college in the 1970s at the height of the sexual revolution and women’s liberation movements. Her husband and their two sons were “super respectful” of women, she said.

“We don’t really need to teach our sons not to rape,” she said.

Four years after being kicked out of school, she said, her son is leading a “double life,” unable to confide in colleagues at work, and avoiding college classmates and his hometown.

Gloria Davidson, whose daughter, Jessica, runs End Rape on Campus, said that as the mother of a 21-year-old son, she could empathize with the mothers of accused students — to a point.

“Any mother is watching out for the children, that’s what mothers do,” Ms. Davidson said. “But I think all mothers should get the facts and open their eyes to what could have happened or not.”

Few mothers have been as public and assertive as Ms. Seefeld. In 2010 her son, Mr. Warner, learned he had been accused of sexual assault by a fellow student at the University of North Dakota. Mr. Warner contended that the sex was consensual, but he was suspended and banned from campus for three years.

His mother leveraged the connections she had developed over years as a high school psychology and sociology teacher in Fargo, and as a union leader. She contacted the State Board of Higher Education and visited state legislators.

Hearing that the university was about to start a fund-raising drive, and thus would not want bad publicity, Ms. Seefeld said, she emailed its president about 9 p.m. one night. She wrote that she had hired a lawyer to look into suing the university, and a public relations firm to help her publicize her son’s case, she said. “Within 30 minutes I heard from the president,” she said, and he told her the case would be reviewed.

A spokesman for the university declined to comment. But university documents provided by Ms. Seefeld show that the school did review the verdict, and nullified it because of a new development: The police said that they had found inconsistencies in the accuser’s account and that some witnesses had contradicted it. They issued a warrant for her arrest on a charge of filing a false police report. (The woman left the state and has not been arrested. She did not respond to telephone messages.)

Realizing she was not alone, Ms. Seefeld helped found FACE, the advocacy group for accused students. She said the group does not want to attack women. But if the mothers do not defend their sons, she said, who will?

“I just thought it was so wrong, and I thought how could anybody let this stand,” she said of her son’s punishment. “And pretty much the most significant weapon I had was the weapon of public opinion, so that was the weapon I was wielding the hardest.”

#families advocating for campus equality (face)#false rape accusation

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deeduranlive · 7 years ago

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Back in 2015 (shortly after having my child in the Summer 2014) i was super lean, cut, "in shape", but i WAS NOT in shape-- i was #sickaf In fact, i was dying inside. My husband had left me a year before then (at the end of my pregnancy), i was unemployed, literally disabled due to several conditions, i was not done with my licensing hours (residency) to become a licensed therapist which meant the only way i knew to make money was put on hold, i was heartbroken, and had #postpartumdepression #anxiety and #chronicpain . I was surviving, fighting for my life every single day, minute by minute. I chose to workout and eat differently. I was told and i also tell clients that adding these changes are game changers-- and they certainly are with the RIGHT #intentions. My workout routine consisted of #HIITrunning about 2-3 miles 5xweek then coming home to do heavy, heavy #weightlifting-- by myself, (which eventually caused a back injury and my routine came to a forced halt). When id run back then, id obsess and fixate heavily on what i did wrong, how i caused my situation somehow and how i was unworthy of love.. i also obsessed on getting my husband back... it never happened btw. However, i became a picture of #healh and #fitness on the outside.. at one point i had a ridiculous amount of followers... but it was all a #lie My life was a sham and i knew it. Today (the 3rd pic), i may not be physically in the shape i was in before, but mentally, i am in a good place-- and growing and striving for more every day. I have relearned to do everything with the right intentions. I have chosen to focus on my #mindwellness and the relationship with my daughter. Everything else is currently accessorial. I am slowly getting back into heavy lifting and being much more #mindful about my body and my mood while i workout. It is a work in progress. Today i am #happy . I hope my story inspires you. Thank you for reading. #throwbackthursday #reflection #dailyinspiration #mindfulness #mindgains #gains #fitgirl #fitmom #mindwellness #rightfocus #focus #intention #selflove #mentalhealth #bodypositive #ddben #lmft #ocmindwellness

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theoldestofthettails · 6 years ago

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The Victim

I had a very hard therapy session today. And I don’t know how to process it exactly, so I’m going to write about it.

I was abused. I was abused for 2 years by a man that I loved and who swore loved me. And while yes, I casually mention his “abusive behavior,” I have never really sat with the fact that I. Was. Abused. I was a victim. I was a victim of abuse.

And that part is really hard for me to deal with. Because I don’t want to be a victim. I don’t want that to be a part of my narrative. And it isn’t just the last two and a half years of my life. I was a victim in my childhood. And I was a victim in my young adulthood. And that is hard for me to swallow because I think so much of myself as a strong, independent, resilient person. And the victim narrative doesn’t exactly fit with that.

But my therapist did make the important point that though “victim” may define parts of my past, it doesn’t need to define my future. And that’s super important. But it’s really frustrating that I have no control over my past. Not in the sense that I can’t change the past (none of us can), but that while I was victimized, I had no control over the situation to change it. And then my therapist reminded me of the serenity prayer haha. That attempting to control things that are out of my control will only drive me insane. So moot point.

My therapist also told me my ex was sick. She told me that she feels he is beyond help and the only thing I can do in this situation is stay as far away from him as I can. And that made my heart ache, because despite all of the bullshit and abuse, I still care for him. And I want him to be a better person. I want him to grow and experience happiness and love and fulfillment. But she believes those things aren’t in his future. And I don’t know how to feel about that information.

Once upon a time, before we were officially together, we were sleeping together for a couple months. I asked him repeatedly if he was my boyfriend and if we were official and he kept telling me no. So I slept with other people. And I lied about it. And whne it came out, we decided that we would be together and he would have all of my passwords and my location. We decided that if we were going to stay together, I wasn’t allowed to go out with my friends. We decided that if I did go out with my friends, I had to send him pictures of us. We decided that he would sleep with the same number of other people that I had. We decided that I wasn’t allowed to have sex with anyone, him included. And we decided that this would be our norm until he “felt” I had atoned. We decided I wouldn’t get to be happy until he decided I could. And I agreed.

My therapist tells me that’s not normal. And I hate myself for allowing our relationship to go there. I’m so disappointed that I let myself be so controlled by a man. But my therapist helped me remember that I thought he was my soulmate and that it makes sense that I would want to go through that if my “happily ever after” was on the other side. And so I agreed. And he fucking destroyed my life.

He would sext other women and show me. When we would go out, he would ignore me and hit on other women in front of me, just to remind me that he could; to let me know that him choosing to be with me was a privilege. He would ignore me when I needed him most. He didn’t remember my graduation date nor did he come. He didn’t go with me to my spirit squad formal (but don’t worry, he still paid for his ticket). He just… treated me like he hated me. And maybe he did. Maybe I hated him. There is such a fine line between love and hate and I don’t know which side of that line we fell. But he hurt me. He hurt me so much. He controlled my entire life, and convinced me that I owed him a “thank you.”

And now, 8 months after we broke up, 3 months after we stopped talking, he’s on my fucking Facebook, still trying to stake some kind of control over my life. And I’m still trying to defend him. It’s my fault for giving him my password. It’s my fault for not changing my password. Any SANE person would be curious about their ex, right? Any NORMAL person would check up on them if they had the means, right? He’s not crazy, he’s fucking normal.

My therapist assigned some homework. I am to research the psychology and social psychology of abusive men. (Yes, there are female abusers, but in my instance, my abuser was male). She thinks that if I can understand the mechanisms of an abusive relationship outside of the one I had, that I might be able to see the abusive relationship I had clearer. So I’m doing that today. And tomorrow. And every day until I can make sense of what the fuck I’m feeling.

Continuing with the “victim” thing. She also mentioned how she, as a former victim, had a really hard time dealing with other “victims.” She said that it would drive her crazy when people would play “fake victims” to things she had experienced 10x worse. And I kind of get that. I’m a little bit obsessed with this girl I knew from high school who claims to have had two miscarriages (I know their fake; her ultrasound pictures are from Google – I found them in under 2 minutes). And she posts all of this stuff on Facebook about “poor me” (don’t even get me started on her mother’s day post). And. I kind of want to punch her in the face? But I also can’t stop stalking her shit, because it makes me nauseous, but in kind of a good way? Maybe not good, but addictive. I’m addicted to her fake chaos. Maybe it’s a distraction from my very real chaos. But I also want to punch her. Repeatedly.

I don’t know.

I don’t know how to write a resolution to this post. I don’t even know why I’m writing this post. Maybe if I write it down, it won’t feel like I’m choking on it. But I’m struggling a little bit.

I miss the tinder tales haha.

#tindertales #victim #therapy

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misscrawfords · 8 years ago

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Ugh, you're SO RIGHT about the Sherlock tag. I would have LOVED to hear people's thoughts/ opinions on the ep, discussed them etc, but a quick venture into there quickly changed my mind! What did you think of the new episode? I would be so, so interested to hear all your thoughts! I always love reading about how you found things, whether they're how I feel or not, you just do it so well!

I think it’s time to answer this. Anon, buckle up! And I hope you’re still here…

As a bonus, you get my thoughts on all three episodes. Isn’t it your lucky day…

You’re also going to get reaction gifs. Because I’m on my laptop and I can do them. It’s my lucky day tbh. I’ve just watched an hour and a half of the purest shit that’s ever appeared on my TV screen, green lit by the BBC and with piles of money from my licence fee spent on making it and paying the writers salaries.

Writers who I basically imagine look like this:

So I need a treat. So I have my tea and some cake from my cousin’s baptism party earlier today (so pure! so good! so help me God if I ever let him watch this trash show!). Let’s get going.

Under the cut because

Sherlock was an entertaining, clever(ish) show at the beginning. It was a modern AU of Conan Doyle’s stories and it was fun to see how they were updated, like any modern AU. The mind palace was original, Moriarty worked as a different kind of villain and the way the episodes were updated was interesting and overall successful. I remember enjoying The Hounds of Baskerville particularly. I’ve never shipped anyone with anyone so, y’know, I’m going to talk about that aspect of fandom and the show. (At least not yet.) It’s not my arena.

And then at some point Moffat and Gatiss let success go to the head and this happened.

This gif, incidentally, could also sum up the level of plot explanation and coherence from many episodes. Sherlock’s mind palace basically becomes super powers and nothing makes sense any more.

Because Moffat really loves writing stories about unconventionally attractive, misunderstood super geniuses saving the world while implausibly brilliant, psychologically disturbed hot women fall in love with them.

So anyway. You asked about the first episode of this season. Uh, I’ve already forgotten it tbh. Something something weird girl on the bus something is John cheating something something aquarium something MARY GETS SHOT.

Oh now I remember.

So Sherlock is obsessed with Moriarty despite the fact that he is dead. (Probably?) I mean, he might not be because Moffat is famous for refusing to let characters stay dead and he’s basically unaware which show he’s writing for, DW or Sherlock, at this point. And he also likes to suggest things to the fans which aren’t the case but the fans which they were. Apparently that’s what being clever means.

Anyway, he’s waiting for a message from Moriarty and he’ll know it when it comes because… he’s just that good and there’s all these hints that Sherlock can basically predict the future using… science and his phenomenal brain?

And the whole episode is bookended with a riddle about a merchant going to Samara which is the equivalent of a trashy YA fantasy quoting Hesiod in the original Greek at the beginning of the volume to try to look cultured. I mean, it basically doesn’t mean anything or even necessarily make sense but for a time you’re bamboozled into thinking you’re reading/watching something really incredibly intelligent. Just because literary allusions and alinear narratives can add depth to something doesn’t mean the addition of them automatically improves something!

AKA the viewers to Moffat. So long, and thanks for the meta.

Back to the episode. There’s the disappearance of boy that Sherlock solves in five seconds because he can do that? It makes no sense and by this point I don’t even try to suspend my disbelief. I mean, what’s the point?

Sherlock gets obsessed with the 6 Thatchers and thinks it’s to do with Moriarty but actually it’s connected to Mary Watson who is actually an ex-assassin because being a complex human woman living in the real world is too far beyond Moffat’s comprehension to contemplate writing.

Meanwhile John can’t cope with fatherhood and starts texting a random girl on the bus who is clearly sinister. Then Mary dives in front of a bullet to save Sherlock despite having recently become a mother. I’m not a mother but from everything I understand, a mother’s primary instinct is to protect the child, especially a vulnerable baby. Mary is consistently presented (ha lol consistent characterisation jk who dis) as loving John and valuing their life together above everything else. So… what conceivable motivation could she have for depriving her child of its mother in this way and prioritising Sherlock’s life over her own? Her affection for Sherlock is ultimately baffling except in the context that all women love Sherlock, despite him being condescending, rude, manipulative, dishonest and emotionally unavailable.

But hey, it’s pretty original stuff to kill a female character to advance the character development of the two white male protagonists who’ve been queerbaited since the beginning of the show, right?

So yeah, that’s the first episode.

Second episode was all about Sherlock concocting another plan involving him turning into the Sybil of Cumae with no rational explanation in order to make John come and save him. Because Mary told him to in a video message presented to look like it was from Moriarty. Yes, it makes just as much sense as it sounds.

Credit where credit is due, Culverton Smith was a really chilling villain and unmasking him would have made a great S01 episode. This episode was really actually not bad in many ways if you ignore most of the stuff beyond the main plot.

But then! The ending! John’s therapist was the girl from the bus in the previous episode and she’s Sherlock’s insane sister! Called Euros! (Which isn’t a girl’s name wtf that’s a masculine ending.) Which means East Wind! Which has apparently been referenced to in previous episodes! And everything was building towards this!

Because what could be more predictable and obvious than Sherlock having a long lost sister who is even more clever than he is who is introduced as an even bigger villain than Moriarty? Spoiler alert: She was also an American transfer student to Hogwarts and Draco Malfoy fell in love with her.

On a more serious note, the reason this “twist” is hilarious and predictable is because it is yet more of the same. Each threat is escalated beyond belief and Ebony Euros is just the latest in a long line of dangerous, genius women set up as foils and/or love interests for Moffat’s genius/emotionally stunted heroes.

Arguably Mary might be in this category too. Moffat hasn’t progressed beyond the characterisation of women of a basic fairy tale: in other words, they either help or hinder the hero on his journey. If they help, they are either old (Mrs. Hudson) or in love with him (Molly, Mary in the sense that she is willing to DIE for him and make him the centre of her universe despite her husband and baby) and if they hinder him then they either do it by being utterly unappealing and monstrous (the woman in the aquarium whose name I’ve forgotten - she’s old and she shoots Mary - there’s something grotesque about her in that scene) or they use sex as an entrapment (Irene). These women simply cannot exist beyond these binary roles towards the hero.

Eunos in episode 3 obviously can’t fancy Sherlock due to being his sister, but she nevertheless falls into the category of being quick-talking, psychopathic and her sexuality is expressed through an odd sequence with Moriarty. Like Moriarty, she claims to not care or even notice the gender of the person she’s boning which just sounds weird as opposed to liberated, which I suppose was the intention. In fact, Eunos’ characterisation is hardly different to Moriarty’s. Perhaps this is intentional, considering the role Moriarty is playing in Eunos’ plans but it just feels tired and not half as slick and clever by this point.

At the end, Eunos is revealed to be the little girl on the plane WHICH MAKES LITERALLY NO SENSE FROM A NARRATIVE POINT. How even? And how did they end up at that house? I mean, I just really have no idea. By this point I’m just praying for it to be over soon.

But anyway, she’s the little girl on the plane and thus turns into another one of Moffat’s tropes from DW of the little traumatised girl whose entire existence is built to basically revolve around the hero.

Anyway, most of this trash episode is Eunos playing games with Sherlock, John and Mycroft. How they are manipulated beggars belief and therefore there is no suspense. Obviously she’s going to kill the governor’s wife anyway! She’s a PSYCHOPATH - why do you trust her to play by her rules?

So I really have no idea why they play along with her for so long. It makes the whole thing very boring.

Anyway, one of her games is to force Molly Hooper to say “I love you” to Sherlock and I’m not dwelling on this because I find shipping on this show very tedious because the whole thing is a manipulated construct by the writers and nothing is genuine and it’s obvious they were never going to end the show with Sherlock and John locked in an embrace so, honestly, what were you expecting? I guess this is another example of a tease that isn’t actually fun but rather a cruel bait to the fans of the show. A fake declaration of love - that actually never develops into anything and confirmation that Molly is in love with Sherlock because she simply can’t not be. I’m so angry. This is so many things and I can’t even be bothered to discuss it further.

Anyway, I’m running out of steam. What else? The plot is a giant mess, Cumberbatch playing the violin is an embarrassment to violinists everywhere. The whole thing is a self-conscious nod to and slap in the face to its fans. Its smugness is utterly insufferable and entirely unjustifiable.

I think what makes it totally laughable rather than just plain bad and insulting to everyone who isn’t Moffat’s demographic is the fact that for at least this season and quite possibly longer, the show doesn’t even have internal consistency. It’s impossible to suspend disbelief when watching it. I don’t even know what kind of show it is. It is impossible to believe in any of the Sherlocks because they are incomprehensible, not quite human in a universe that doesn’t allow them to have special powers. And no amount of trying to give Sherlock emotions can change that. None of it hangs together at all.

#Sherlock #probably don't read this if you think everything about this show is amazing #tagging for my future reference only #ugh #anti-Moffat

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loveisofthebody-blog · 8 years ago

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Review: Bad Boy by Elliot Wake

It’s been a while, comrades, since I’ve written a genuine hatchet job. And to be honest, I hadn’t been planning to write this one. As my header suggests, I try to stick to YA reviews here, but I’m branching out today. Quite a while back I posted a booklist of trans books by trans authors. It’s gone on to be one of my most frequently-reblogged posts, and on it I listed the then-forthcoming Bad Boy by Elliot Wake. To be honest, I forgot that I’d even put it on that list. I later read the book, hated it, literally threw away my ARC because I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else reading it, and vagueblogged about the horrible trans novel I’d just read. A few people asked privately for details, and I told them that yeah, it was awful, but a)I hesitate to shit on an #ownvoices novel in a category that’s so seldom represented, and b)Wake’s followers are frequently aggressive and kind of scary. Since then, I’ve learned a lot more about Wake himself, namely that he likes to sic his followers on black women on Twitter, has a long history of racist, misogynist comments, and generally seems like an Unpleasant Person. I remembered that I’d once put his name on a booklist, and started feeling guilty, but still did not write anything.

And then a trans reviewer-friend mentioned that they’d read a super triggering passage in the first few pages of Bad Boy, and wanted to know if they should continue, because they’d only read glowing reviews. So, yeah, I’ve got no choice but to kill it with fire: I don’t want any more readers to pick this one up without warning.

Disclaimers: this is adult fiction, not intended for teen readers. I’ll be discussing a number of super-triggery subjects like suicide and sexual assault. Also, if you can’t tell, I took this book super personally! When I requested the ARC, Wake was still identifying as a non-binary transmasculine writer, starting his transition after successful publication of previous novels under another name. I saw him as sort of an aspirational figure in the industry, which is admittedly pretty shallow, but it’s not like there are a lot of successful enby writers to pick from out there. I was, shall we say, disappointed. Ok, axe sharpened, let’s go.

What’s it about?

By day, Ren is a popular trans vlogger who lives with his toxic lesbian sort-of-ex-girlfriend-it’s-complicated. He’s recently started his medical transition, following a hinted-at sexual assault and suicide attempt. By night, he’s part of a feminist vigilante justice squad, targeting local perpetrators of sexual assault. Ren’s their hitter, kicking the crap out of rapists and other unsavory misogynist types. When Ren finds out people he trusts have been working alongside the man who raped him prior to transition, he goes rogue, seeking his own revenge and trying to uncover the secrets of the people he thought were his friends.

How is it?

I’m biased, but I really did not think it was very good, in terms of style and craft. Ren’s voice is completely insufferable, and it read like a narcissistic dude’s LJ-screed and not a novel. It’s supposed to be a sexy suspense novel and it failed at both of its primary genre-related goals. This isn’t a smear on Wake’s ability to write a sentence or a narrative arc though, so let’s continue.

How’s the representation?

So, this is the part that makes me incandescent with outrage. Now, if we lived in a world where tons of trans guys were publishing books about their experiences and getting multiple starred reviews for them each year, I’d just write this off as one asshole writing his asshole origin story and not bother reviewing it. But this book is a big deal. Cis people apparently find it instructive about the trans experience, whatever that is. Trans guys are buying it looking for representation. This is some bullshit. Wake’s narrator is a raging misogynist, and based on the premise of his novel, so is Wake himself. Feminists are straight-up villains here, and women in general are dangerous temptresses who do things like make false rape claims with impunity, destroying the lives of innocent men. Femininity is scorned, manliness is violent and stoic, etc etc. A lot of Ren’s toxic masculinity is ascribed to his testosterone therapy, as though it is T’s desired effect.

As far as the representation of the physical facts of transition goes, Wake is quite accurate. I don’t think I’ve ever read a fictional description of a person applying gel-based testosterone, and that was kind of cool to see. The physical changes and general logistical challenges of transition are not just convincing, but some of the first realistic and embodied descriptions of the process I’ve ever read. It is tragic that such realism is accompanied by an incredibly harmful depiction of the psychological changes of testosterone therapy.

I am freaked out by toxic masculinity. Reasonably so, it’s terrifying. A therapist had made a claim to me, a while back, that if I were to go on T, it would make me more aggressive and confrontational. That, for me, is a frightening prospect. Around the time I was really struggling to make a decision about whether to pursue medical transition or not, I read Bad Boy. I wish I could say this is hyperbole, but it’s not: this book almost convinced me to not transition. Which, that’s not something I can reasonably blame Wake for. His experience is his own, and this is, yes, fiction. But it’s the first novel I’ve read that’s effectively a detailed firsthand account of transition, and it’s literally everything I was terrified of becoming. Ren is a terrible person, filled with rage at women and womanhood. He is violent and hateful, obsessed with his own martyrdom. Reading this book was actively harmful for me.*

Transmasculine people have a responsibility--as do cis men!-- to push back against misogyny and advocate for those whose voices are ignored. We don’t get to hide behind our own oppression and claim immunity from our own bigotry. We don’t get off on a technicality. As far as I’m concerned, in the absence of other stories about this experience, Wake had a responsibility to do better.

Warnings for (this is almost certainly an incomplete list): suicide attempt, rape, false rape accusation, public shaming, gun violence, various other kinds of violence, drug and alcohol use, TERFs, forced detransition, terrifying misogyny, sorry I can’t remember more: see above, I trashed my ARC a while ago and I’m not paying for one now.

*As an antidote to this book, I recommend reading this lovely article by Aaron Rose, about gentle masculinity and gender transition, which calmed me down considerably. I did, for what it’s worth, take the plunge and start my transition, and I haven’t yet devolved into a hormone-fueled rage monster.

#bad boy #elliot wake #my reviews

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