#i’m so disconnected from others no matter how hard i try i’m just an outsider in everything

[x-itzzzzzz-x]

terrified of ending up alone but the more i go on everyday the more it seems glaringly obvious that i’m just not meant to be around others

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Friday! (again)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It takes until noon to get yourself together. The world around you feels disconnected and hazy, beyond your reach. You just want to hide from the chaos your life has become, but you know you can't do that. Bucky says as much, telling you to take it all in small steps. The first; get your car.

You slump in the passenger seat of Bucky's range rover, arms folded over your fraught stomach. Never again. It's never worth it, even if it lets you forget. You just have to remember it all the next day, all while feeling shitty as hell.

He pulls up in front of Harry's house and you slowly sit forward to look around him. You gulp and fish out your keys, the jingle making you wince. You blow out a breath and undo your seat belt.

"Should I come with you, doll?" He offers, one hand on the wheel.

You look at him. His long hair is draw back into a ponytail at the back of his head, a few strands dangle loose to his chin. His square jaw is speckled with dark stubble and few patches of silver. His steely blue eyes shine as his plain white tee and blue jeans offer a perfect canvas for his easy allure. The way he looks at you makes it hard not to notice how handsome he is.

"No, no, I'll just go get my car and follow you back to your place. Should be easy."

You pull the door handle before you can lose your nerve. You're grateful for Bucky's help but you need to do this on your own. He can't coddle you and you can't expect everything from him. You don't want to be in this situation ever again; cast out and lost.

You get out and gently shut the door. You round the front of the tall rover and push your glasses up your nose. You cross the street, tucking your hands in your pockets as you keep your shoulders curled and head down. You cross the pavement and head up the tarmac, stopping short as you catch sight of your car.

Your mouth falls open as you gape at the mess strewn across it. Shaving cream streaks the hood and roof, toilet paper draped over it in tangled strips, and eggs smashed into the worn paint. As you get closer, you notice the only blank patch is keyed with the words 'dumb bitch'. You stare stunned at the desecration of your only possession.

You shake your head and don't look up at the house. You can guess it was probably Harry and his friends. This is the type of stuff the got up to in high school and these people made it clear that you're an outsider. 

You near the car and grab a few strips of toilet paper, pulling them off and wadding them up as you try to wipe off the yolk and half-melted cream. Some of it's caked on after sitting for at least half the night. You sigh and focus on just tearing the tissue off. You can hit a car wash but you don't know what you'll do about the scratches.

As you scrape off what you can, you hear a door and sense a shadow. Harry's laughter rattles in the afternoon sun and you ignore him as you toss clumps of cream and toilet paper onto the ground. You unlock the door and he catches it from the outside, holding it in place.

"Do you get the hint now?" He asks darkly.

"Leave me alone," you tug on the door and it doesn't budge.

"Naomi is better than you. You're just some stupid nerd who doesn't know her place. The only reason Peter was interested is because he wants to make MJ jealous--"

"I don't care--"

"You're too boring for her," he sneers, "so better go off back to your corner and cry, little girl."

"Frig off," you spit at him, "and let go!"

You try to jerk the door away and he just snickers again. You bear your teeth in frustration and roll your eyes. If he wants you gone, why won't he let you go?

"She helped. The eggs were her idea," he taunts. You don't care if she did or not, her loyalties are clear enough. You saw them last night.

"Hey," Bucky's voice rips through your standoff and you turn as he storms up the driveway. "Back up, jackass."

"Jesus Christ, not this geezer," Harry snarls.

"Yes, this geezer," Bucky barks, "go inside before I show you what an old man can do."

"Whatever, bro."

"Whatever," Bucky stomps past you and stops only inches from Harry, looming over him, "I'm up for whatever you choose, boy."

Harry huffs and curls his lip. He raises his hands and takes a step back, "you're not worth the trouble."

"Sure," Bucky keeps his shoulder in front of you, blocking you in, "go on and run back to your posse of dumbasses."

Harry waves him off and turns on his heel, slides flopping under him as he tramps like a toddler back to the house. You shudder and look at Bucky as he turns to you. He rests his hand on the top of the door.

"You alright, doll?" He softens his tone.

"Yeah, fine, he's just dumb."

"Mm," he looks past you, "assholes. Let's get this thing cleaned up and--" He pauses and shifts away, bending to examine the message etched into the paint, "hmmmmm," he growls, "good thing I know how to buff this stuff out." He stands straight, hands on his hips, his pose accentuating his chest and biceps, "you want me to drive this thing till we get it washed or--"

"No, no, it's okay," you murmur, "I just wanna get out off here."

"Sure thing," he tries to smile but his cheek ticks as his eyes drift angrily to the house, "don't let appearances fool you, there people are trash."

🌞

When you get back to Bucky's, he unfolds a lawn chair and points you to it. There's little argument to be had as his anger has you tongue-tied. You know it's not directed at you but you can feel it steaming off of him. You've never been good at handling that sort of emotion, especially from others.

It's probably for the better. Your head is pounding, even in the shadow of the awning, and you stomach is still wobbly with uncertainty. You rest your chin in your hand as you watch him spraying your car with the nozzle of the hose. As he does, the splash back dampens the front of his tee, the fabric clinging to his stomach as he sneers at his task.

He shut the hose off and grabs the sponge from the bucket, scrubbing at the harder to get patches until has has it mostly clean. He gives it another rinse with hose and rolls it up, dumping the bucket in the grass and dropping the sponge inside. He puts the pail down and sits on the steps, only a foot away from you. 

"Sure made a mess of myself," he looks down at his wet shirt, wiping his hands on it before tugging it upwards. He strips it off and shakes it out as you avert your wiley gaze. "I'll buff the side later and it should be fine. Probably have to find somewhere to fix the paint properly, though."

"Thanks, uh, you've really done... enough."

"Shitty," he mutters clutching the shirt in his hand. As he leans an elbow on his knee, your eyes stray to the trim of hair across his broad chest. You hide your wandering gaze and focus on your hands, "I'm sorry she dragged you into all this. Really... and I know I've probably not made it any easier."

"I guess I'm just confused. I don't know what to do with myself. I guess I should keep looking for a job but at this rate, I won't have one until I have to head back to campus. If I even get to go." You exhale shakily, "my parents split tuition but if my mom cuts me off... I don't know what to do."

He nods and gives a thoughtful hum. He sits back and props his elbow on the step behind him, his muscled stomach tugging at your gaze. No, stop.

"I never had kids. Obviously. Always knew I couldn't give them everything I would want to, you know? But if I did, I'd give them everything I could. I just don't get it. I really don't, you're a good girl and they just don't see what's right in front of them," he sucks his teeth, "well, how about..." he stops himself and lets his leg sway one way then the other, "I could offer you a job. You could do some work around the shop. Sweeping up sawdust and stuff but the pay is good."

You nod and chew your lip. It's a nice idea. More than you deserve.

"What... what about..."

"Steve? You let me handle him. Really, he's just a dumbass. Gets carried away. Besides, sounds like he has his hands full with your mom and his wife," he scoffs, "you'll be working with me, not him."

You wiggle your foot, "I don't know..."

"It's your choice but it'll keep you busy and it could help with money problems," he puts his hand flat, "all you have to do is say yes. Oh, and obviously, whatever you decide, you got a place to stay."

You glance up at the house and frown, "I don't... what about Naomi?"

"What about her? If she comes back, same thing for her. She has a room here. I made promises and I don't break those. However she feels about me, I wasn't the one who hit the self-destruct button."

You drop your head, holding it tight as it feels ready to splinter. It's not just your hangover, it's everything else. You squeak and rub your temples with your thumbs.

"You okay?" Bucky leans forward and touches your elbow.

You lift your head gently, "yeah. I just feel awful. That I ever thought you were... bad. After everything, you won't even turn her away."

"She's lost. She's careless but she's young. I only ever wanted to help her, I was just selfish about how," he shrugs and retracts his hand, "but anyway," he stands and touches his lower back, "I think you should go inside, chill out on the couch, and watch some Netflix. I'll get you something nice and greasy to eat for that hangover."

You whimper and give a pathetic smile, "I'm sorry about that," you stand with some effort, "I don't usually drink like that--"

He laughs, "don't apologise," he waves you up the steps ahead of him, "I'm going to start being honest with you so I do need to tell you that it was really cute."

You giggle and shake your head as you reach for the front door. He's fast and extends his arm past you, opening it around you, close, so close you can feel the heat roiling off of him.

"No, it wasn't," you insist.

"It really was," he snorts as he follows you inside, "you get this pout and it's just..." he's quiet as you slip your shoes off, a lull as he weighs his words, "gorgeous."

You chuckle nervously and rub your neck. He clears his throat and toes off his sneakers. He moves around you cautiously, as if fighting not to get any closer.

"I'll go grab my phone and we'll figure out what to order," he mutters, his tone uneven, "you just make yourself at home."

🌞

You feel a bit more stable once you have a good meal in your stomach. Good being a relative term. The greasy cheeseburger and onions rings are hardly nutritious but they are satisfying. 

You slurp on your diet coke as you lay with your head up against the armrest and lose yourself in the shallow drama of the reality show personalities. An argument about a dress really is compelling theatre. You put the cup down and hug the cushion to your chest, laughing as a woman storms out, tossing her wine in the process. Wow, and you thought your life was ridiculous.

You yawn and close your eyes. It's getting late. You should probably go to the guest room and try to sleep off the last of your alcoholic regret. 

The end of the couch dips and your eyes snap open. Bucky sits just below your feet, tilting his head at the screen. He arches his brow as his eyes search the television. His mouth slants as he looks at you.

"So, why are these women screaming at each other?" He asks.

"Oh, uh, you can change it," you go to sit up but he firmly puts his hand on your ankle.

"No, I'm curious. Genuinely."

"Really, it's just a stupid show--"

"I want to know," he smiles and glances back at the TV, "they are really angry."

"Well, the blonde one borrowed a dress from the brunette and never gave it back but the blonde claims she did and the other woman is lying. And the other blonde is saying she saw the dress in the brunette's closet," you explain and end with a chortle, "it really is nonsense."

He keeps his hand on your ankle, his thumb rubbing through the cotton of your sock. He nods and squints, "the brunette is lying."

"Hmm? How do you know?"

"You can tell," he points with his other hand, his other slipping down your foot. "She keeps looking left."

"Oh?" You look between him and the television, overly aware of his hand. He pushes his thumb into your sole and you groan at the delightful pressure.

"You ticklish?" He wonders as he drags his thumb along your arch, "huh?"

"A little," you confess, "what are you--"

"Just... being nice," he grips your foot as you try to pull away once more, "just lay back. Everyone loves a good foot massage, don't they?"

"I... I wouldn't know," you push yourself up on your elbows and watch him knead your foot, barely withholding a moan. He knows what he's doing. "Never had one before."

"Really? Well, you got a lot of tension right... here," he poke his thumb into you and your squeal. It sends a zing up your leg. "See? I told you, you need to relax. I'm just helping." He grabs your ankle higher up and yanks, just hard enough to have you flat on your back, "sit back and enjoy, doll. You deserve it."

[watchingyoufromthestars]

Okay, time for my mixed feelings on Scam Likely and how nobody can escape the repetitive cycle of being an imperfect father. I’ll try to be objective as I break down the scene in Goofs Realm, but I’m in my Scam hater era.

THIS IS LONG, SORRYYYYYY

No father will be perfect in fiction or reality, and it’s a running theme of the show. The mistakes of your past define the present and the families have been constantly doomed to repeat them, but in new, fresh, fucked up ways. There are varying levels of mistakes all of them have made in the story, especially compared to Willy, but he’s his own special case.

Scam’s sin is ignorance. To the world around him and individuals’ feelings. Consistently he is shown to not realize outside of his Goofs that they can heavily affect other people in ways they do not like. That actions have consequences. His entire relationship with Jodie was a joke to him, while Jodie was left without his romantic partner a second time and was scammed out of a son (and in more ways than one since Hermie was spawned as a teenager instead of a baby). It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, and now that someone is his son and he’s dead.

“He tries to hide the fact that he is actually emotionally affect by this, but he only got a 6, so you can see that he is genuinely upset.”

In his own way, Hermie does matter to him. I think Scam is a very hard being to compare to the rest of the cast because of his Goofs realm nature. He has an entirely different set of morals and ground rules of existence. For christ sake you die forever into nothingness in Goofs Realm if you stop being funny. But now Scam is confronted with a harsh truth and he can’t deny an emotional mode outside of Silly and Laughter.

“I didn’t even think of him as something that could die. He was just a goof. Goofs never die. It’s like- all jokes are always funny forever.”

We truly see Scam’s mindset here. Be it as a Goofs native or just who he is individually, he only thinks of The Big Joke of it all. Hermie was not an individual with feelings to be loved and raised (not that he even raised him at all), Hermie was just a joke to him. And it wasn’t even in any personal way. Everything is a joke to him.

“Where is he? Is he in Hell? Is he in Heaven?”

“I don’t know! He doesn’t have a soul! He’s not like you or me. Well, not like you.

And here it’s cemented in just how irregular Hermie is. Neither him nor Scam have a soul. As much as we’ve visited dead characters on this podcast, there’s nowhere that Hermie can be reached. This incarnation of him is gone forever.

“Do you forgive me for whatever is about to happen? I’m truly going to try.”

Try as he might to make things right — in his own insane way of ‘farting and it’ll be so funny that he’ll come back’ — that’s not something that’s been allowed lately on this show. And what could he even do to make things right anyways? There’s no joke to be made when someone has passed, and no joke can bring them back.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think it would happen like this. I didn’t think he would actually develop a personality; he was just supposed to be a Goof machine. Nobody was supposed to be sad if something happened to him.”

Again, Hermie’s existence was just a part of one big goof and scam for him. Meta and Story, Hermie is and was a joke. He was just supposed to be this silly little guy, but then as time marched on he developed into something of a person. Something a lot of us got attached to and something Normal held onto dearly. “Nobody was supposed to be sad if something happened to him”, but he became too much of a Person for that to stay true.

“I could make you another one.”

And then there’s this line. It kills me in a very specific way. Scam is just so disconnected from human nature that he doesn’t know fully realize the value an individual life holds. Yes, he could just make another Hermie, but that’s not the Hermie. To use the first metaphor that comes to mind, it’s like making a mastercopy. In a previous painting class, we studied a singular painting for one project and recreated it to the best of our abilities. As skilled as one can be in painting, you cannot truly recreate the original. There’s history imbued in the original, and it’s lived a lifetime before your own version was created. Even if you create a version indistinguishable from the original, it is still not the same.

All of this is to say that I cannot truly judge Scam, at least from a certain standpoint. I have very mixed feelings about him, but he’s a unique case of a character that’s very different than judging one of the human dads. Am I rambling here? Am I spouting nonsense? I don’t know, I’m still in distress over crying multiple times from this episode. I’m not proof reading this lol

[venusvxen]

Undermining Inner Movement Due To Lack Of Physical Movement

The only movement that matters is the movement within.

I’ve been thinking lately about why sometimes I would never see my Full manifestations materialized even thought I would ((seriously)) change so much within.

Like seriously.. I’m a person who goes through multiple deaths and rebirths internally. The things I thought last week probably aren’t what I think this week and it’s surely not what I thought last month. I’m always expanding upon my life philosophies and dogmas to try to learn more about the world. Since the beginning of the year I really have completely changed inside. Blossomed into something completely different to the point where the me from pre late March just feels so disconnected from the me of now.

I say all this to say that I Do do the hard inner work and have the hard inner conversations with myself to shed old parts of myself to make room for the new. But then i ask myself, why does my external world not reflect that change?

Honestly this is something that would have me tripped up for a long time because before anyone comes in here saying “it’s clearly because you haven’t changed”, i’m going to stop you right there since I think I know myself better than a stranger on the internet. If anything, I think it’s because I championed external movement more than internal movement.

I was watching some Edward the other day, his video on internal movement. He spoke about how the movement inside should be the only movement we should seek, the outside is merely a bonus. It made me think about how I would undermine my Very Real internal transformations just because there wasn’t tangible evidence on the outside to substantiate that change which, in turn, would lead me back to square 1.

At times I would literally feel trapped by my outside world but as I’m typing this now I realize that it’s because I was too invested in the outer world. This feeling of encagement rlly would be because I would be someone completely different inside, but outside there was nothing to back this up. I felt (sometimes feel) like the world would never change… Like I’m trapped…

But again, the only movement that we’re after is the movement inside since reality is within not without. Me getting to a point where I completely felt like a different person inside should’ve been where I stopped and congratulated myself because that’s where the mission was accomplished… because.. again.. reality exists within.. not without.

Essentially feeling like a new person inside means I associated myself with this new state so much that I felt disconnected from the outside world but my need to see that reflected outside would have me back at square 1 because it was putting me back in a state of lack.

I honestly don’t remember where I was going to go with this but I want to just share this to remind everyone that if you’re like me and find yourself trapped at times, you’re too into the 3D. Remember that the hard part (internal metamorphosis) is already done and go back to your imagination to fulfill urself and experience what you’ve given yourself. Even if it feels like nothing is changing, know that you’ve changed in the only place where it matters and the rest will unfold beautifully … at least that’s what I tell myself

If you know that you’re a different person inside, if you know you’ve done the work, and if you feel disconnected to your 3D that is because you’ve shifted states. You’re more connected to a new version of yourself than you are to the current one in the 3D. Don’t let 3D validation keep you bogged down to the old story by changing your state from (being) to (wanting/waiting).

As I typed the last part I had a new epiphany lol. All the other times in the past I would only get my things half way is because I wasn’t fully committed to the fact that imagination is the only truth. Only half of my toes were dipped into the pool not the full thing. But I’ve decided to really let the mirror go and take a chance on faith and see where that gets us.

That’s all for now. Hope that helped!

[drdemonprince]

I’ve been reading Unmasking Autism and really enjoying it, the exercises have been enlightening and giving me a lot of new insight on my life, and I’m really grateful for all the tools and advice you included. I figured it might be worth asking you this because you’ve clearly done a lot of research and spoken with a variety of autistic people about their experiences.

I was wondering if you would have advice on a specific experience I tend to notice; often if I see a pet peeve of mine somewhere (and this particularly sucks because my biggest ones are factual errors regarding something I struggle with) it’s very hard for me to move on from seeing it. I can’t forget it and move past it and it continues to upset me for a long time, but of course I don’t want to come off as aggressive by correcting someone (especially because I have such a strong emotional response and wouldn’t want to project that anger on someone who just didn’t know better).

Is there a term for this type of experience that you know of? Or any advice you would give for preventing your brain from sticking on one thought?

Yeah, that's perseveration or rumination, I'd say. And I get it -- I used to get so angry and tense whenever a podcast I was listening to got a fact wrong, or a teacher of mine did, or a boss, and then just breezed along onto the next discussion point without ever correcting it. I would just repeat the correction in my head over and over, or write it down, or write a pissed off little email about it, because I could not get over it and I didn't get the chance to share it.

In my case, this fixating on other people's wrongness only fed into my misanthropy (at the time) and anger and sense of disconnection from everybody.

Now, there are plenty of situations where simply speaking up and correcting the incorrect statement on the fly is the responsible thing to do. Somebody gets misgendered? Interrupt to correct it. Someone in a work meeting has a crucial sales figure wrong? Piping up to correct it is important.

Where it gets dicier is when the correction is more complicated or the issue seems moot given the situation, even if the truth of the matter is really important to you. For instance, someone makes an off-hand comment about their phone giving them dopamine when that's not really how the neurotransmitter works, and popular misconceptions about the role dopamine plays in task completion and discovery leads to a lot of damaging conclusions.... and suddenly now I'm delivering an impassioned thousand word rant to a person who really just used the phrase as a metaphor and never really thought about whether it was neurologically true anyway and doesn't really need to hear that it's incorrect right now.

In situations like those, I think it is important to have the skill of regulating distress and detaching from unwanted thoughts. And there's a whole array of psychological techniques for this that you can try. There's mindfulness. There's dialectical behavioral therapy. There's imagining the thought as a bubble and letting it float up to the surface and pop, or picturing it as a leaf blowing away on the breeze or whatever else. There's also working on your anxiety -- I fixate on other people's wrongness less now that I'm off caffeine and less impatient and problem-finding. There's meditation, and grounding techniques. There's working on one's outlook towards other people. and there's working on one's boundaries and accepting that how other people think and feel is not your problem or something you even should have the power to control.

those are just some options. some may work for you, some won't. i know i had to get my physiological anxiety reduced (by quitting caffeine, getting regular exercise, AND by not working too much) in order to be more patient with such things. and i also had to do some inner work in accepting that other people's minds are not my mind and that their thoughts and feelings cannot hurt me and exist outside of me and independent of me. i also had to work on healthy assertiveness so i come across as less pissy and aggressive when i do step in to correct. and i just generally had to work on not ruminating on any of my anxieties as much as i used to. im much better at letting go of things now and learning that took years.

your mileage may vary depending on the specifics of how getting stuck like this feels to you! the fastest, simplest solution is just noticing youre stuck and deciding you dont want to be stuck and so consciously choosing a distracting activity that will occupy your mind instead.

[caffedrine]

I have so much to say after reading Chevalier sequel spoilers I basically somehow knew that his childhood would be like that we only got a glimpse of it on the mains story but wow seeing how his mother really called him monster and he was just there hoping for one day for his mother to react differently and love him. It does not matter that on the outside he didn’t show any emotion at that point I’m willing to bet he had disassociation and ptsd the first when he says on his main toure how he disconnected from his heart is a sign of that. The later the hyper vigilance hear me out people that have gone through abuse and trauma learn how to perceive what other would do through body language it would explain so much how chevalier is able to know what people will act or thung and say. He could be smart but nothing can convince me that trauma also enhanced this. He also has issue with catching up with his real desires emma know more about his real feeling that sometimes chevaliers know himself he really has a hard time connecting with his inner self. Sorry for the long ass Ted talk but I just needed to analyze this.

That is an interesting theory - but I wonder how much of his personality formed before or after his mother became mentally ill in his past.

From what he said, it sounds like his mother lost it right around when he killed an assassin (I forget his age, 6? 10?). And, without blaming him for causing her mental disorder, part of her focus is how abnormal of a child he was.

I'm personally side-eyeing the Ikepri writers for that bit with his mother - like they're trying to rewrite his character history to explain why he is the way he is. I think he works fine the way he is - working hard to be a part of society and family - without trying to one-up his tragic backstory.

I personally subscribe to the school of thought that he has a form of savant syndrome, with autistic complications.

[kayx95]

I Hate Being Sober: A Raw Reflection on Addiction and Identity.

Addiction is complex. For most of my life, I didn’t understand how layered it could be. There’s this stereotype that people struggling with addiction are always spiraling, losing control of everything. But here I am, with a relatively content life—things are stable on the outside. Yet, if I’m honest, I’m lost on the inside. This reflection isn’t coming from a place of chaos but from the weird, quiet dissonance that I feel about sobriety and the strange relationship I have with my vices.

The Escape I Crave

There’s a part of me that genuinely hates being sober. It’s not something I love admitting, but it’s true. I’m drawn to the escape that substances give me. The way being high lets me slip away from reality, just for a while, is intoxicating (pun intended). I know the science, the “don’t touch drugs” rhetoric—I've lived through the talks, the detoxes, the advice. But that pull, that need to feel something else, to just hit the mental “off switch” and float, it’s always been there, even when life looks fine from the outside.

Control Over Chaos

Here’s the weird part, though: I have control over certain substances but not others. Cocaine and MDMA are like tools I can wield. I use them recreationally without fear of spiraling. They let me loosen up, but I don’t rely on them to stay functional or “escape” regularly. In a twisted way, I feel almost proud that I don’t let them dominate my life the way addiction can. But when it comes to weed? That’s a whole different story.

Weed, that “harmless” drug that so many people can handle, drags me down in ways coke or MD never could. I don’t just get high; I sink. Weed has a unique way of controlling me, making me lethargic and unmotivated, so I’ve come to avoid it completely. I’m sure anyone from the outside might wonder, “If you’re in control of the hard stuff, why can’t you manage with weed?” I wonder the same thing, and that contradiction has left me wondering about myself.

Lost in the Silence

Oddly, even the highs from the substances I think I am in “control” of, don’t always bring what I’m looking for. Sometimes, they end up making me quiet, almost numb. Instead of feeling connected or euphoric, I find myself turning inward, almost mute. I look like a “baghead,” just lost in my thoughts, and the high ends up feeling empty rather than freeing. I can see how it might look to others—a girl zoned out at a party, searching for a release but ending up in a haze that only makes her feel more disconnected.

Searching for Myself in Sobriety

I’ve realised that, deep down, this tug-of-war with sobriety has to do with something more than just addiction or substance use. It’s a question of identity and self-worth. When I’m sober, I’m left with… well, just me. And that’s terrifying. When I use, it feels like I’m filling a void, shutting off the part of my brain that questions, “Who am I, really?” The high drowns out the nagging doubts, the restlessness, and the discomfort. But when I’m sober, that “lost” feeling surfaces, unfiltered and undeniable.

The Struggle to Find Peace Without the High

The reality is, even though I want to feel at peace in sobriety, I don’t yet. I still have that pull, the lingering desire for escape. But I also know that relying on a high is just numbing me rather than healing me. I’m left with this battle of trying to figure out how to find contentment without drugs while being painfully aware of how hard it is to get there.

Sobriety isn’t just a matter of resisting the urge to use—it’s about facing that deep, uncomfortable silence within. That silence is heavy, but maybe, by confronting it, I’ll eventually find some answers.

Closing Thoughts

For anyone reading this who feels similarly, you’re not alone. Whether you’re in recovery, stuck in addiction, or simply questioning your own relationship with sobriety, know that these feelings of dissonance and confusion are valid. It’s easy to paint addiction in black and white, but for many of us, it’s complicated, layered, and personal. I don’t have all the answers yet, but I’m here, sober and uncomfortable, trying to face them one step at a time.

[morgandria]

My spirituality feels messy, sometimes. I don’t think that can be helped, since like the rest of me it developed organically over time. As much as Virgo-me would love to keep it all in nice neat boxes in my head, it didn’t start that way and sure as hell isn’t interested in ending that way. It can be frustrating. I have to both acknowledge its' eclectic tangle, and attempt not to cross the streams. I do my homework. I respect boundaries. I try to get into the heart of things, rather than just skimming the surface. I never want anyone to think I’m some kind of spiritual tourist. But understanding and perspective are always evolving. Shit happens. Needs change. You accumulate as you go.

The earliest things were Native. It’s like the deep earth under my feet. I was raised with stories and teachings from my grandfather, but at the same time I was not raised inside larger Métis culture. I feel uncomfortable with attempting to practice much more that a good (occasional) smudge, and a bit of plant medicine. Unfortunately, being Métis is also political. People are fast to label others 'pretendian', or a cultural appropriator days - social media is addicted to those 'gotcha' moments. I don’t feel like putting myself out there just to attract abuse from smug self-righteous assholes who assume you’re just lying for some kind of personal gain. So while there’s still potential for connecting some roots there, it will likely remain the path untrodden.

It's not a big leap between plant medicine and witchcraft. Which was always a career option, in my mind. I always knew I’d be a witch when I grew up, from a young age. I think it’s why I loved Halloween so much. It was a chance to let the inside and outside match. Early-early stuff, aside from the native stuff, I spent learning from spirits and getting to grips with energy work. It was simple, but it was wonderful to feel like infinity was at your fingertips.

I’ve had a long relationship with Wicca. I suppose the early days were more properly a kind of Neopagan practice with a Wiccan flavour, but the basic framework was there. I felt a calling to a coven for many years, and specifically for initiation into priesthood. I eventually reached a point where the things I wanted to learn were outside my reach until I found one. I was lucky, and 20 years with a coven practice has been fulfilling in many ways. I don’t doubt that the Lord and Lady truly did call me home. But I often wonder how much longer I might walk this path. I call myself witch more than Wiccan, as of late, and feel like I've lost momentum. The disconnect isn’t huge, but it’s there.

That point where I stalled out before being invited to my coven I took the time to explore Irish polytheism. I had long been a devotee of The Morrigan, and over time developed relationships with other deities in the pantheon. Deepening those ties was very satisfying, but at the time there were lots of gatekeepers. The battle over authenticity was something I wanted no part of. I also had a hard time with that style of ritual expression - trying to be ‘correct' often came at the expense of joy and pleasure. It was dry as fuck. Some of it has stuck with me (the pantheon, and some cosmology) but ultimately I decided I wasn’t interested in becoming an armchair academic whose practice was purely an intellectual exercise. There’s no point if you don’t find joy in what you’re doing. The Tuatha Dé will always be with me - just not in any way that’s so rigid.

Interwoven between all these things is a lot of Otherkin stuff. I am not going to get into it, but it’s certainly a part of who I am still. It’s just a bit convoluted, and just too personal to matter to anyone but me.

And these days there’s Lucifer, and Lilith, and Baphomet. I think it all started with simply feeling like Baphomet is a deity for the non-binary. Anything Satanic comes with a bunch of Christian baggage, which I have zero interest in engaging with, but at the same time I like rosaries and snakes and apples and the image of big satanic cathedrals. Heh. I’m not one to turn my nose up at a ready supply of ritual resonance, I guess. Like anything else, it’s not straightforward. Non-theistic Satanists are pretty quick to dismiss you as a credulous nitwit if you’re any flavour of theist. Some theistic folks are very over-the-top ooky-spooky doom cookies. And don’t get me started on the fascists hiding all the dark little corners they can find to fester in. So it's another community I won’t engage with too deeply. I’m too pagan, maybe, and I feel enough Horned God energy connected with Lucifer to acknowledge them as such. There’s a wild, feral, earthy energy to it all, and I’m here for it. This practice is still pretty new, so I’m still getting ahold of it. The whole of it feels like a call to live and enjoy life in the moment as it comes - and that you can live your best life out of sheer spite, in the face of those who would destroy you. I’m pretty good at denying myself pleasure so it’s challenging, but I’m up for it.

It’s all always in flux. I feel like primary focus these days goes to the Satanic stuff. It’ll be that way for a while, I think. When I downsized the shrines in the house in the spring I was relieved. Felt like lifting a weight off I hadn’t realized I was carrying. Everything’s good with my household gods, but they all seem content taking a step back and letting me make space for something new. The lack of coven meetings isn’t bothering me as much as it might have at one time. It feels like I need to code-switch to exist in that space, where I did not used to, and the thought makes me anxious. So I'm a little melancholy that some things I felt evoke connection and power and beauty and ecstasy aren’t raising the same energies and emotions anymore. My once very-pagan-following-the-Wheel of the Year altar space here in the bedroom is all dark gothic reds and purples most of the time. (I admit my palette for this altar type is very much lurid 70's occult novel cover.)

So yeah. Apologies if this meanders without sense. Just trying to keep one foot in front of the other, without having to stare at my feet as I walk. It’s somewhat of a relief as you get older that people don’t scrutinize you with the same levels of interest. You can exist a little more freely, messy spirituality and all. Less need for validation from those around you is also a relief.

I just want to be who I am, with joy, without judgement, without hesitation. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

[multiplicity-positivity]

autistic anon here again. I didn’t include this part in the first ask because it would’ve been a bit too long if I did but. I guess I’ll go on a bit of a vent/rant now.

I have this thing where. Idk how to explain it. I guess my personality kind of changes?. Or at least the way I handle my emotions does? I thought it was masking at first but it was making me unable to really “fit in” and being ostracized regardless of how hard I tried or how I tried to change how I acted, so then I found emotional dysregulation and realized actually I’m terrible at masking. Except I do mask over text because I change my speech style based on communities/people.

But with my emotions sometimes I’ll be more angry and upset and other times I’ll be more patient and informative and other times I just panic really easily and other times I’ll just shove away any problems to try and be fine and I just don’t. Really know how to explain it?. I don’t know if my personality itself shifts because I don’t know if I *have* a personality due to all of these different emotions. Which I thought was a masking thing but now I genuinely can’t tell. The best way I could describe it is unpredictable.

it feels. Less like different people controlling me and more like I myself change. It’s not just a mask like. Masking. It’s that my very way of handling my emotions changes and I don’t know why or how. Maybe it’s just a part of emotional dysregulation I’m not sure.

Like even just taking tests or quizzes for fun. My answers can completely change within like days of themselves and not because I grew as a person but because I’m in a different “state/personality” from when I first took it?

I’m too disconnected to know if anything happens or if I get amnesia or anything from these things. I don’t usually even realize it it just. Happens. The only reason I noticed is because of how I was constantly ostracized for it no matter what I tried and how I genuinely couldn’t explain my personality. (And I think I’d explain it differently at times??? Like sometimes it’s more. Nothingness. And sometimes it’s more angry and impulsive. And sometimes more withdrawn. But I can’t. Remember? Right now I feel more empty so that’s the main thing I can remember due to emotional disconnect.)

I don’t know…. I don’t think I have obvious shifts and I don’t experience things in 3rd person so I never really considered any sort of multiplicity. But I can’t really explain how I change so much.

Can you. Experience different shifts/personalities. In first person? Like. Instead of someone else taking over your body. You become someone else? Or at least it feels like that?.

like. To explain.

Mental State #1 went into a panic and retreated, before going to bed.

Mental State #2 I woke up as. It completely dismissed anything related to the thing that panicked #1 in favor of remaining completely content.

Mental State #3 is very analytical and thinks about what panicked #1 without getting as carried away.

Mental state #1 is back again and more stable but still a bit. All over the place? I guess? And just does their thing. I think they’re more unstable from what I’ve been able to tell.

(I have more states than in the example these are just the ones I could identify. The main thing is that. Instead of my mindset changing or evolving. It feels like different people with different mindsets but I am all of those people in the moment but if you ask me to remember what I felt as them or specifics then idk you tell me. If that. Makes sense.)

honestly your guess is as good as mine as to whether this is just emotional dysregulation or something else entirely I do not know what this is. It’s not masking I know that for a fact.

Hey, so we’ll be honest here, these questions may be a bit outside of our wheelhouse and would be best directed towards a therapist or mental health professional. I suppose what we can say is:

Experiencing different emotional states, a broad range of emotions, or feeling different emotions at different times or in different situations, is normal, even for singlets. Most experiences different emotions and emotional shifts from time to time. Singlets can also experience conflicted emotions, and can be baffled when looking back at how they behaved in certain situations (“I can’t believe I acted that way,” “That was so out of character for me,” “I wasn’t feeling like myself at that time,” etc)

Some systems do experience switching and passive influence as “I become a different person” or “My personality changes completely” rather than “I switched with another person who took my place.” We’d venture to say that this form of experiencing switches is quite common. We also think that many singlets may experience something similar, especially if they have a personality disorder that may be influencing these shifts.

We will say that for many parts in our own system, we also do not experience life in third person. When we are dissociating or coconscious while another alter is fronting, it’s more like watching through my eyes and ears while someone else is in control. Life may seem blurry, hazy, muddled, or far away. And we do occasionally get this feeling of being outside of our body kind of floating above it. But personally, we don’t experience this “third person view” very often (just sharing some of our experience in case it may help).

If emotional dysregulation is a big problem for you, we’d really recommend attempting some work with dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT). It’s been really useful so far for our own system! You don’t have to find a DBT-informed therapist in order to do some DBT work on your own. We’ve gotten a lot of use from this workbook (<- hyperlink) which is available on Amazon.

Okay so in the end, yes, it’s possible for systems to experience switches as personality shifts as in “I become totally different people/my personality changes drastically.” However, singlets also may experience this. So ultimately it will be up to you to determine whether or not these experiences contribute to potential multiplicity for yourself.

Sorry if this response is confusing or rambly. We weren’t quite sure what all this ask is asking. But we hope something here will prove useful for you.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Hi Halla, I feel kind of bad doing this because I don’t want to bring negativity to you but I kind of consider your asks a safe space and I just wanted to get this thing off my chest. You don’t have to read it, I just needed to rant about this to someone that wasn’t my journal.

I’m currently in the library at my uni, skipping the first of my finals. I basically didn’t study for it and just the prospect of entering the class in which the exam is taking place makes me want to vomit. I can retake it in two weeks, but it’s not the first time this happens this year and I hate lying to other people about it, whether the excuse is illness/grieving/a bad performance, and try to shift the attention on the ones I did pass (mainly thanks to luck). My anxiety is over the roof rn and I’m trying my best to study for my other finals but I currently just want to curl up and cry. I’ve always been the golden child with perfect grades so I feel like I can’t talk about academic struggle bc I don’t want to let down others, especially my parents. It’s been a rough couple of years and I basically lost all of my close ‘friends’ and I’m embarrassed to talk about this topic with the ones I still have because they’ve always seen me as the academic weapon friend and as someone they aspire to be (academically speaking) and I don’t want to crush their vision because I feel like that’s the only remaining piece of the old me. I know it’s not a big deal and that the world has thousands of bigger problems than a privileged white girl complaining about her life but I’m so tired of failing and feeling disconnected from reality and other people. I’ll shut up now, sorry for the rant, I hope you’re having a good day Halla, you’re a lovely person.

Hey baby. 💖

I’m so sorry you are having a difficult time. I understand how you feel cuz I’m in a similar boat myself. I think a lot of it has to do with that I’ve learned from people around me that my self worth is contected to my academic performance. So sometimes I feel like I’m shit as a person if I don’t exceed academically. I know that it’s toxic and even though I understand it “logically.” It can be hard to shake emotionally. So give yourself grace. The thing is, you are the same you who succeeded before. Which means you totally have it within your capacity to do it again. But self-deprecating talk has a very real impact and it can convince even a successful person that they are failing.

There’s a book that someone once gave me. I think it’s called “Elite Minds.” I don’t really do self-help much (and also the person who gave it to me is now my ex so it’s hard for me to pick it up now lol) but it essentially argues that whatever you believe about yourself is the truth. Like it doesn’t matter if you’re some fuckin genius. If YOU believe that you’re shit, you will indeed be shit. You could be Einstein himself. But if you think you’re not going to do well on a task, then you’re going to sabotage yourself into failing.

Honestly idk how to kill the negative self-talk. Sometimes it helps to remember that there’s sooo much more outside of academia. And that smart people come in all sorts of shapes and forms. I’ve met some brilliant folks who work office jobs. And some dumbass morons who have PhDs. Your grades and your school performance don’t define your intelligence.

Hang in there 🤍 exam season is almost over. Best of luck babyyyy 🤍🤍

[beholdthesword]

Personal post alert -

Last week I talked to an old friend on the phone and ended up telling her probably more about my sexuality than I had ever really told anyone else which wasn’t a lot because I don’t really talk about it and I think it cracked open the well of loneliness inside of me that I pretend doesn’t exist

A few days later I spent the morning reading tlt fanfic and jerking off, a combination that sometimes has the opposite of the desired effect and instead of enjoying myself I felt like I was just sinking further into feelings I didn’t want to have

i was doing better! i had plans! I was going to go outside and be with my friends in the afternoon but it didn’t matter all that mattered was that I was reading fic that hurts me to read and I couldn’t stop I wanted to know that broken people could find each other and survive but it hurt because it wasn’t true, it wasn’t real, it’s just fic. It’s one thing to read it but it’s another to believe it and i just couldn’t believe that id ever crawl out of this hole where I’m so alone and no one will ever care

In honor of pride month I decided to read a bunch of queer stories as a vehicle to get me out of my book slump. i started with stone butch blues. i was surprised how quickly it pulled me in. I’m almost at the end and in the midst of the pain and confusion there’s a beautiful moment of love. “I can’t believe I finally found you.” i had to put the book down.

I just saw a post with a quote from Nona the ninth and I want to reread it because I remember how I cried. it hurt to read and I still don’t know why but I feel like that again now

there’s so much love and I try (oh my god do I try) to put love out into the world, to do things for my friends for no other reason than I love them and think it will make them happy and I KNOW I get it back but I can’t FEEL it I can’t believe it and I can’t make myself believe that I’m worthy of anything more than I get because this is all I’m left with -

I wanted this to all go away. I started some meds, was feeling better. Waking up isn’t so hard anymore. I can do tasks a little easier. But I just had to stop in the middle of making this post because I was crying so hard I gave myself a panic attack and couldn’t keep it in

Happy pride month to me I guess. I’m not really out - (not that I even know what that looks like when half the time I just pretend I know what’s going on with me (do I want love do I want sex do I just think I want sex do I actually want love? could I even find love? I know I don’t feel the same as everyone else - but what if I do? What if I just don’t recognize it what if I’m just too disconnected from myself to realize it - then what? how do I possibly begin to unpack repressing myself for my whole life, how could I expect anyone to deal with that but how scab I do it alone) as if I’m not constantly beating back fear (that it too late for me to even try, I’m too far removed from sex and intimacy, my inexperience will be a dealbreaker, how could anyone ever want to wait for me to try, I’m fifteen years behind everyone else, what if I’m disappointed, disappointing? how could I ever crawl back to this version of existence after that? how can I live with it now?) - I’m not really proud (the labels just feel like another box I don’t really fit into)

I spend all my time searching for ways to be, as if I can read enough to finally figure out how to exist in this realm of reality where things make sense to me, where I can understand how people form relationships and how they keep them how they navigate the minefield together. as if I can observe enough people so that I can understand how people are supposed to work how I’m supposed to be

I don’t know if I know what love feels like. I don’t know that I could recognize it if I do. I know it must be there but I can’t feel it and it drives me crazy. I cry myself to sleep at night for want of love and I don’t even know how I would recognize it. I surely wouldn’t believe that it’s for me. how could it be when I’ve been alone this whole time? i take care of everyone I know the best way I know how and I don’t know what it’s like to feel cared for and I’m afraid I never will

If I ask for it (help, care, love) how do I know it’s real

sometimes I wish I didn’t have to feel anything at all

[heroes-fading]

tumblr did eat this but as a wise poet once said “honey i rose up from the dead i do it all the time”

so i feel like i have been slowly entertaining in the back of my head for a year or two now the idea of writing again. it started with like, writing bad poetry in journals. i’ve been consuming media, but in a lot more of a disconnected way. engagement was like, reading reddit and twitter threads for a day and putting it back down. then episode 8 happened, and i was like FUCK i’m unglued.

to put in perspective what kind of shit i was up to in high school: i wrote half a million words of like...once upon a time fanfiction. and in that i found lots of lovely connections to people but amidst a sea of other factors: being a literal teenager who still thought i could be the smartest person in the room (spoiler: never), having no real social net outside of the internet (and i will say my internet friends -- many of whom i still love and talk to today -- got me through some of the WORST times of my life), and having a very fragile ego. probably related to points a and b. everything felt like the biggest thing in the world because my world did not feel very big.

now i look back at it like...holy shit you wrote a goddamn novel. who cares if it was like, literature or not? 

to be honest one of the things that got through to me was this cj the x video, especially their point which i’ll recap here:

“We are under the impression that art is something special people do, and to do it well makes you a genius, and to do it poorly is embarrassing. This sectioning off of the art world for artists from regular life and regular people is completely artificial and it is bad for the soul of your society.”

and they talk a bti about the Terrifying Ordeal of Being Known and perfectionism and just the amount of fuccccckin mental blocks we put around what’s good art and bad art and we spend so much time agonizing over what’s good and what’s cringe and you know what? embrace cringe! who cares! none of us will live forever!!! sharing art is the way we sustain ourselves in the long run.

i always have an internal voice saying something’s not good enough. i’m Always like “damn, these metrics ain’t metricing like they were earlier...” and then i’m like fuck...am i doing this for the Idea of Fandom Success or because of my fun silly lil hobby? my fun silly lil hobby? aight guess i ought to just embrace the Terrifying Ordeal of Being Known and accept that silly lil numbers ain’t what’s fufilling, it’s the practice of writing and sharing and going at the end of the day “at least one person liked this, and being known isn’t the Most Horrific Thing Ever”.

another thing i Never did when i was a teenager is tell anyone i wrote fic in real life. now my husband and friend and sister-in-law know (the latter involved either alcohol or being confined to a plane, which is a lot like alcohol) and you know how much they think i’m embarassing? they don’t. oh and actually a co-worker. they just go “lol, this is My thing” and it’s a novel they tried to write in college or fanart they post on a secret instagram or a monsters inc page they ran in high school (all real examples) because everyone has some kind of thing they care about, some artistic expression, and we’ve conditioned people to think trying is embarassing. trying is vulnerable and the point, i think! no matter how cringe! 

and vulnerability is this awfully stingy thing because sometimes when you think about it for too long it’s not unlike putting your hand on a hot coal. like, fuck, laying awake at night knowing that people know You Tried and what if they still didn’t like it? humiliating. awful. please schedule me with the goddamn firing squad. you didn’t get the metrics you wanted. or worse, you did and now people don’t think you deserve it. they’re gonna find out you’re just a big fanfiction writing fraud.

but maybe that’s the point! i don’t know! vulnerability is hard and painful and growth and sincerety is almost WORSE. but there’s also something lovely and cathartic about it and at the end of the day knowing that other people feel that, too. can never get too lost in either sauces of thinking you’re the worst thing ever or the best and the only one who gets it. just gotta accept the vulnerability of it all~

i’m back in my daydreaming era, i think fic gave that back to me. i shut her off for a little while, but she’s still there! and it’s not the worst thing, having overwhelming creative ideas on the treadmill or in a hotel lobby or furiously writing in a google doc in the middle of the night even if it does feel Silly. sometimes it does make the world a little more magical, framing in a narrative. 

(my therapist at some point has made comments about my narrative framing skills in the context of my life and getting out of a shitty family situation with a lot of embedded generational cyclical fun stuff to a point i have a lot of the things now i used to dream about despite it, my pathological need to write my way out also applying to my life and maybe it’s not the worst way of moving a locus of control inwards. i used to dream about feeling safe and being respected interpersonally and professionally because it’s something no woman in my family ever really got and i get that now. anyway, as i said, radical vulnerability!)

narratives are powerful and meaningful and art is too, i don’t care if it’s fanfiction at the end of the day! we’ve all felt something or gptten something or felt community and that’s meaningful enough. 

this is a very long-winded and frankly chaotic way of saying sure, i’m a writer enough!

[alyjojo]

Love Reading 🛐 - June 2024 - Aries

Singles:

Who is Coming In: The Devil & Knight of Wands

Regarding: The Hanged Man

Long-Term Potential: 2 Pentacles

I don’t really have to clarify, I will but…this is a player. They want to get you in bed, and then leave you hanging, stringing you along. Cupid’s Arrow seems to show you having grown feelings for this person, and maybe they’ve told you what you wanted to hear…I’m not thinking they feel anything too deeply though. Surface level. To clarify, 2 Swords rev is not confused, they’re not in two minds about anything and they know exactly what they’re doing. This isn’t someone dumb, they’re actually showing up as quite intelligent - they’re just not in it for the long haul. For whatever reason - this doesn’t say why.

Long term potential is you still wondering if you should say something, maybe a little “how are you” message, something cute - because underneath the surface you feel this deep lack of…self-worth. Used. You want to feel chosen, want to know why they disconnected (because they will). Or they have already, and you just have this person on the brain. There is no full explanation here, all different reasons, and I don’t think it matters. They made you feel like you weren’t good enough. Fuck the why. Why would you want that in your life, what do you have to prove? The answer is nothing & The Hanged Man shows once you see things from a different perspective (one where you didn’t deserve this crap from anyone, or don’t), you’ll see things much differently with this person. What makes you want to chase someone like this? They make raising the bar look easy ❤️ And when that one does come in, it’s going to surprise you, you won’t see them coming.

Messages:

- Living My Life

- Adrenaline Junkie

CUPID’S ARROW 💘

- Have Faith

- Love is Coming

- Surprise Invitation

- Struck by Love

You are a child of the universe 💫

Signs you may be dealing with:

Capricorn & Pisces

Couples:

Them: 2 Wands rev, 7 Cups, Queen of Pentacles

Regarding: 9 Swords & 8 Swords

More than anything, your person has an addict’s energy. Stressed to the max at the thought of having to quit, maybe they are trying to quit or you want them to. They have an obsessive mind, and that could be some underlying reason of why they might turn to substances (and/or work) in the first place, as a way of self-medicating, more or less. This person places self-worth on the tangible & material, what they provide to any situation, may be a workaholic as well as some other sort of “holic”, this is an addictive personality overall. Doesn’t matter what it is, they’re obsessive, and their mind races 1000 miles an hour over whatever the thing is, every little worry and fear dominating their life - they probably have massive anxiety - that’s what I’m describing. If they’re not providing something, they’re feeling not worthy of love. They do love you, very deeply and without judgment, if anything, they’re extremely hard on themselves. This could also be an outside person in their lives that they care for and don’t know how to help, and all of this worry and upset is regarding that/them instead. They’re a helper, a worker, a fixer, and some things can’t be fixed. It’s out of our control. Tell that to a fixer and *cue meltdown*

For someone, it’s possible this person has/had another interested person, and they’re terrified of sabotaging themselves by doing something they can’t come back from. Alcohol may be involved. If they’ve indulged in any way, they regret it. It may be unlike them, or they’re more aware of their feelings - King of Cups at the bottom is very much in love. They don’t want to be addicted anymore, to whatever the issue is between you. Or they want to help someone else they’re close to, friend/family member, etc. I’m seeing them not move forward, regardless of what this is about, and it’s because of so much mental chaos over what to do, how, and everything else involved. If they want to quit, that’s true, but they have no idea how. Or how to help someone else they care about do the same thing. If you’re the one dealing with or doing these things, your partner is literally losing their mind over these antics and it’s hurt them deeply, like they’re being hurt and there’s nothing they can even do about it but be upset, work, be upset, work, can’t sleep, can’t relax, it’s neverending.

Messages:

- Addicted 🍷

- Obsessed with Work

BLOWING KISS 😘

- Unconditional Love

- Giving & Receiving

- Fairness & Love

- Affection Returned

Don’t just do something, sit there!

You: 8 Cups rev, 10 Wands rev, 9 Pentacles

Regarding: 3 Pentacles

You’re returning to a situation you’ve already called, it’s dead and buried, you’re done and the cycle is closed out - never going back to this shit again. 9 Pentacles. You were perfectly fine with this decision when you made it, but someone is apologizing and you’re headed right back into the bs. Or you have already. Could be switched too, because you have the Childish card and Page of Cups rev clarifying, which is the same thing. Immature & childish energy. Someone may be giving you another chance because you’re apologizing, saying how much you love someone, yada yada. Could be your person too. Or someone outside of you both, family, friend, neighbor, whoever. Addictions are involved in some way.

Especially if it’s family, it could cause issues between you and your person because you’re both on the side of logic and then there’s a chaotic person in the mix. They’re family, we love them. Lots of people have advice for that but idc, I can see you love them - or your person does, and the desire to help is there. Especially if this is like, your person’s sister. You were DONE but they are not, and you may act out in a way that’s…not very mature, and could cause your person even more stress tbh, but ultimately you’re keeping your mouth shut because you support your person. Can’t save them, whoever it is, but you’re not about to be the asshole in the room either, ya know? If you’re the one with your tail between your legs returning, maybe check your motives, because of Mask. What are you hiding? You could be being blindly supportive and keeping your mouth shut to what you actually want, feel or think.

Messages:

- I LOVE YOU ❤️

- Childish 🍼

MASK 🎭

- Hiding True Feelings

- Pretending & Delude

- Gaslight & Personify

Decide your vibe.

Mutual: 7 Wands rev, 4 Swords, 6 Wands

Regarding: Ace of Wands

Basically advice, you both realize there’s a lack of control where this situation is concerned, and the only real thing you can do is surrender and wait for things to heal or develop naturally, with time. The advice is “drop your defenses”, or weapons as I heard them, against each other most likely. For many this is someone’s family, and it’s no use fighting a lost cause yanno? Not the addict, that’s not the lost cause. Fighting someone that wants to help them. If you are popping off about how you feel regarding them working too much, that will come out, and they have no excuse. It’s known. The desire in both of you is to make an unstable situation stable again, because you love each other. The only thing that can do anything in this connection is continued support & love - the rest will either work itself out, heal, or continue developing because the Wheel shows it’s not even done yet. The love between you is real and that’s what matters. Both of you may feel angry at the other from a single-minded place but should try approaching things as more of a team, you are each other’s priority - 2 Cups. The future is nothing to sneeze at, it looks really good. If someone outside of you both is going to rehab - that could help. Some kind of steps are being taken to heal, and also, you have to accept that you can’t make them. For many of you. Or they can’t make you. It looks very positive.

CLOCK 🕰️

- Needing Time

- Cycles & Takes Time

- Time to Heal

- Progressing

Meditate! 🧘‍♂️

Signs you may be dealing with:

Gemini, Pisces, Capricorn, Scorpio, Aquarius & Leo

[rotary-swing]

How To Swing A Driver In Golf – The Difference In A Driver vs Iron

One of the questions we get asked all the time when it comes to how to swing a driver, is what’s the difference? What do I need to do differently when I’m swinging a driver vs swinging an iron. It’s a super common question and the reality is….nothing! You don’t do ANYTHING different whatsoever. Now of course with the driver, it is a specialty club. So that means you do need to hit the ball higher on the face. If you hit an iron high on the face it wouldn’t go anywhere.

Obviously, that’s a difference, but it doesn’t change the way you SWING the club. It only changes the fact that with the driver you’re using a tee. The only other change you’ll ever make with a driver swing is moving the ball position up in your stance, slightly inside the target line and changing your alignment slightly. Outside of that, what do you need to do differently? Nothing! The whole key of learning how to swing the driver vs swinging in iron is learning how to swing them in a way that feels like to you, the exact same speed.

Watch this video for more information: https://youtu.be/yf_nMxowFXQ

One of the things people don’t realize is the advantage that just having a long shaft provides for you. How much? It’s about 2 miles per hour of clubhead speed that you’re going to pick up for every 1/2 inch of shaft length. That’s why all of your clubs are typically varied by a half inch. As you go from pitching wedge down to the driver. Pull your 8 iron out of your bag and set it next to your driver. You’ll see there’s a huge difference just in shaft length. Probably close to a foot difference. For arguments sake, let’s say your driver is a foot longer than the 8 iron. That means without doing anything different, simply with the increase of the radius of the swing arc, you’re gaining 24 MPH over your 8 iron.

Now, for many of you, you’re reading this and thinking “now listen”. “I swing my 8 iron at 85 MPH and my driver at 90 MPH, what’s the disconnect”. Great question because that’s what really matters. The math and science of it is 100% legit, but for so many golfers in real world practice, it doesn’t work out like that. Their driver swings almost the same speed as their irons. Why? Simple, you’re trying to swing the driver too hard from the top of your swing! If you get up to the top and try to fire it down real hard because you think that’s how you have swing it in your head, it’s not going to work. You need to swing the driver the same way you’d swing your 8 iron. You’re making a much smoother swing with your 8 iron because you’re not trying to kill it.

How many times have you made a nice smooth swing with a iron and would up hitting it too far? The key is you learn to sequence the swing correctly and you let the swing unwind without you trying to force it from the top. Iron swing or driver swing, you need to try and feel the exact same body speed. That doesn’t mean with the driver you can’t try to rip it now and then when everything is clicking. By all means, if you’re feeling it and everything is clicking that day, have at it! But in a normal round when things aren’t clicking, you need to feel that both swings are the same. That’s the difference in how to swing a golf driver vs how to swing an iron!

[kirlianradio]

Ranboo saying they aren’t sure if gay rlly covers or fully describes them and honestly what if I go on a whole rant abt how difficult it’s been navigating sexuality while I’m transgender

Like idk I commend that, for some ppl it IS easy and that’s valid too. but god I’ve pent up so many feelings of uncertainty that it’s..rough sometimes. I feel like I HAVE to almost decide on a label becuz even in posts saying how valid questioning is. they almost make that an end goal. “You’ll figure it out eventually” and I do sometimes feel comfy with labels. Sometimes it’s nice. Feels secure. But sometimes it feels.. restricting?

I’ve used gay for now becuz well, I know for sure I like men and ppl outside the binary! And the majority of the time I do just, feel like a man.

But I’ll have these fleeting moments where I feel like just “anything goes” I don’t have a care in the world, for both gender and sexuality. I’m just human we’re just human whatever. Do these short periods invalidate the majority?

Sometimes I’m a man but at the same time maybe I feel like a lady a little bit, while yeah I’m still a dude, that feminine aspect sometimes makes me feel a lil disconnected from the gay label. Those who r fem and gaymlm r valid but idk sometimes for *ME* I feel out of place..

I’m attracted to ppl outside the binary, sometimes very feminine ppl. where yeah, they’re still always gonna be outside the binary but it makes me think, AM I not attracted to women? gender is just a label, idc abt genitals, idc abt gender presentation, whatever u wanna be? Valid. But like. Idk it’s difficult to just exclude who I might be attracted to based on what just.. a label? It’s hard to picture myself with a woman but at the same time it’s hard to explain or make sense to myself becuz people are all so different. Sometimes a random girl will look like a dude and it’s like ?!?!? AUGH?!? I find them attractive but is it just that I thought they were a guy or is it that I just find certain women attractive ??

IDK IF THAT MAKES SENSE TO ANYONE ELSE. I’m also worried I come off as like transphobic or smthin😭 I swear I respect ppls genders no matter what just sometimes how ppl present themselves gives *me* a sexuality crisis and that’s not their problem it’s mine AUGH this almost 100% could be worded better but idk how. Just please keep in mind I’m not trying to be a transmed or smthin🤮

I never feel sure of myself I never feel sure of how I feel about other ppl. It’s prolly also the neurodivergence of not understanding societal rules and standards but AUGHGH Emotions, gender, and sexuality are all such difficult things for me. God I wish I was one of the ppl who just, understood immediately. Idk man

I might just say fuck it and just give up figuring shit out and call myself achillean or queer. At least for a lil while

[darkcircles4lyfe]

labor of love

Thinking back on the books and shows that have captivated me most over the years, I’ve noticed that a significant part of my enjoyment comes through glimpses of the creator themselves. The human, fallible, subjective, personal, and unique perspective that bleeds through. I'm forever trying to see things from the other way around instead of as the audience. As I become more familiar with a person’s work, I almost imagine myself as the close friend who can see bits and pieces of their loved one in everything the write. 

When I deal with fandoms or read and listen to media criticism, I inevitably get slapped in the face by the absence of this habit in other people. Maybe it’s because of concepts like “entertainment” and “consumption” making art into a product we spend our money on, and therefore we feel it owes us something. Maybe it’s the trend of pretending arbitrary differences in taste are actually somehow a basis for objective criticism. Regardless, even though I see plenty of reminders all over fandom spaces encouraging people to just enjoy things without worrying about whether they have some sort of intellectual merit, I don't see much acknowledgement of the creator’s point of view here. 

So let’s talk about creative work as what it is: somebody’s dream, which brewed in the dark and solitary chambers of their mind, real but invisible to the outside world. By some miracle of good fortune and incredibly hard work, that dream is made accessible to us, the audience. It’s difficult to express how surreal that really is. Not all media is like this, of course. But sometimes you can see when a story is made with love, that the creator is so in awe of this miracle that they bring all of themselves into it. When that happens, I too fall in love, and preference no longer seems to matter. It’s not, “I enjoy this thing because it’s so ME,” it’s more, “I enjoy it because it’s so THEM.”  

I worry sometimes that I have rose-tinted glasses on, but here’s the thing. We seem to over-associate criticism with logic, and praise with delusion, when in reality they are both limited. What I’m talking about here is neither. Sorry if this sounds cheesy, but I think “to love,” means “to know.” It’s where flaws and strengths blend together into a whole that is understood as it is cherished. 

All these various observations have been tumbling around in my head more and more since I’ve gotten into this funny little thing called Boku no Hero Academia. It’s so popular, so polarizing, it draws in such a wide range of opinions from so many different kinds of people. I find it fascinating to watch, but, like I just said, it also tends to slap me in the face. Not out of personal offense, mind you. More than anything I’m stunned by how disconnected a lot of people are from this human element, whether they are being negative or positive. Even if they know enough to invoke the name of Horikoshi, they treat him like more of a figure than a real person. 

It’s true none of us can actually truly know him. However, I think that while the author/audience relationship is a somewhat parasocial one, it’s worth acknowledging the mutuality of it as well. Let me take you all on a little journey to bring “the creator” down to Earth. 

First, a few plain facts: Before bnha, Horikoshi was able to get two other manga into serialization: Oumagadoki Zoo and Barrage. The former lasted 37 chapters from 2010 to 2011. Barrage lasted 16 chapters, in 2012. Juxtapose this with Boku no Hero Academia, which as of writing this, has been running for over 370 chapters spanning 8+ years since 2014. Horikoshi is currently 36 years old (born in 1986). 

Now let’s go back even further. His first one-shot was published in 2007, when he was 21. It’s called Tenko, and you can read it in English here. Most obviously, we can see that this Tenko character was later adapted to the Tenko we know in bnha, with a similar power, backstory, and appearance. But I actually think there are a few other ways we can draw comparisons from this genesis of Horikoshi’s career, all the way to the present. 

Here is the intro that prefaces the 2007 one-shot:

^I get chills looking at this, and it makes me grin, no joke. Please take a moment to read all the little tidbits. It sounds like the intentionally foreshadowing first scene of a famous person’s biopic, but no one had a clue back then. I just find that so hilarious and moving at the same time.

So think of the Tenko one-shot as a window into who Horikoshi was as an artist and a storyteller pre- pro industry, with the assumption that certain aspects of his work are probably simultaneously a bit more upfront but also underdeveloped. You know, like a kid. There’s both honesty and naivety there. I can also think back to being around 21 myself (only a few years ago lol), about the stories I was writing in school, the workshop classes I was in with other people my age, what they were writing, the things that were important to us that we discussed informing our work. It’s a formative time, right?

One of the primary things I notice about the Tenko one-shot is that it centers themes of power, heroism, and trauma, and has a resolution which involves bridging misunderstandings. 

It’s all very ideological, but also full of raw emotion. I read somewhere (sorry can’t remember where) Horikoshi saying that in formulating his idea for the ending of bnha, he has kept asking himself, what does it truly mean to be a hero? It seems he started asking that question way back in 2007, through this little story about swords and their wielders. The Tenko one-shot acknowledges that people and power are morally complicated, as is the idolization of heroes. The ending is hopeful, and looks ahead to times changing for the better by the will of progressively-minded and determined people. 

This reminds me of the current arc of the bnha manga, and how the whole story might eventually end. Horikoshi has shown us that the villains are worthy of sympathy, that they are a product of society’s willful ignorance, that “heroes” have also done abhorrent things. But he has also embraced the pure optimism of youth. He seems eager to ask the big questions about right and wrong, and present us with both ambiguity AND certainty. The final fights are not at all a contest of strength, and there are no winners and losers. I’m very curious to see how far he takes this. I’m sure it will ruffle some feathers, and leave some people unsatisfied, but that’s probably a good thing.

The other major thing I notice in the one-shot is the character Hana. Now, as she shares her name with one of the main characters in Oumagadoki Zoo, and they are also similar in personality, that could be where the comparison ends. However, that’s nothing to say Horikoshi didn’t continue her themes elsewhere. The Hana in the Tenko one-shot is primarily preoccupied with her goal of becoming a warrior, and she was inspired some time ago by a warrior who saved her. This other warrior, conicidentally, turns out to be a brutal, a-moral, self-proclaimed demon, and he actually doesn’t take Hana seriously. In some ways, this reminds me of Hawks with his own idols, Endeavor and Lady Nagant, and more generally the idea in bnha that someone you look up to might not be all you imagine them to be. Like All Might and his hidden suffering. Or like Ochako looking up to Izuku up until his solo arc, after which she proclaimed, “special powers are one thing, but there’s no such thing as a special person.” 

Speaking of Ochako. Hana’s primary source of angst in the story is that since she is a woman, her “masculine” ambition is laughed at and dismissed. Her dialogue with other characters is very direct about this, which I find pretty interesting. 

You can really feel her frustration and see the blatant misogyny in how she’s treated. Even though things are stated kinda bluntly, it feels genuine, ya know? Note that she also wears men’s clothes, and nothing about her appearance is catered to the “male gaze.” I mention all this because to me it contextualizes Horikoshi’s more recent female characters. We can infer that he carried this perspective on, but in subtler and more nuanced ways that might not be immediately noticed. They may sometimes look like shonen stereotypes and be influenced by a misogynistic world, but this is likely an act of parody and/or criticism on Horikoshi’s part. For example Ochako’s fight in the sports festival illustrates a similar point to Hana’s struggle as Katsuki is the only one who takes Ochako seriously while other male classmates see her and other female opponents as inherently weak or potential love interests. 

Hana remains ambitious, fostering her own motivation beyond her previous idol, and her ultimate goal is to help people. She reminds me so much of Ochako’s recent convictions. Ochako is fully herself now, and I’m confident her fight with Toga will show this even more, in a way that is much more direct. Since ch 374, I anticipate we may be getting confirmation of things pretty soon, so I wanted to restate that ASAP. 

I’ve said this before, but it really does trouble me how a lot of people assume so much about bnha based on other shonen, disregarding the fact that Horikoshi is his own person. This either leads to undo criticisms or expectations that will likely not be delivered on. It makes me sad because I want people to enjoy this story for what it is. I hope this is a reminder that although it may seem on the surface like Horikoshi is rehashing the same old thing, his work really is a labor of love, of knowing. It is an homage, which both celebrates and deconstructs. Please remember that for the day when folks will be scrambling trying to figure out how we got here. Ironically, the signs were there all along, from the start of Horikoshi’s career, if you only care to look.