#kids this is what happens when you romanticize shit you hate as a coping mechanism. it consumes you and one day you wake up to
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every day i realise how deep i've sunk into the techbro hole and die a little more on the inside
#i am not a science kid and i want to go home 😭#watching the murder of my right brain in real time as engineering turns me into the soulless void i made fun of my whole life like 🤪#how did i end up here. i always knew i wanted to do social work i never wanted to take science how did this happen to me#okay enough thinking for today. i am now going to *surprise!* go and study math 👍🏼#liveblogging.pdf#bro...its not ironic anymore...#kids this is what happens when you romanticize shit you hate as a coping mechanism. it consumes you and one day you wake up to#an existential crisis wondering how you got here#anyway.
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Decided to do a little vent.
Honestly i hate how big of a deal fakers are for sysmeds, like i don't think they really exist?..
Like... No? Like, they're litterally not??
It's like fakeclaiming depression, autism, adhd, etc. Esp for young people and minors. and generally, pretty "childlike" escapists who are into cartoons and etc and not oversharing photos and irl life. People really assume that people who spend a lot of time on fiction really can't ever dissociate and don't want to escape reality... Somehow. Idk ableism aimed at young people is so unreal i hate it, because they're actually MOST vulnerable to all abuse, but get dismissed SO MUCH by everyone just because they don't share all shit happening to them.
I saw this soooo much for depression like "oh these kids are just faking and romanticize it blah blah" when they're litterally coping and express feelings through art... In a healthy way? Never understood it.
Ocdd isn't really so funny and normal, even accomodations aren't so great, to fake it, being system isn't instant +1000 followers as they think. If person wanted to roleplay - they may just make roleplay account. And like?.. Like fictives can't be into various roleplays and interacting more as original, because it's familiar for them, and safe in a way? We litterally have singlets in roleplaying community who are like "i actually always play characters that are litterally me because i can't really play as very different person", why fictives can't be like that too, and enjoy it? Just because some fictives don't, and now this is a standart for all?.. Roleplaying is quite badass healthy coping mechanism that helps to improve empathy and understanding of others.
Communications only become harder for singlet if they try to pass as disordered system, and it... Doesn't pay off??? At all??? Like????? The fakeclaimer's paranoia litterally doesn't do any good for any system, only make systems feel worse and ruminating about how their trauma must not be enough, imagined, and alters are just imaginery... They're formed to help, and you litterally may hurt systems by saying shit about them being imaginary, just as you may hurt adhd/depressive person by saying that they're just lazy and need to get over them, without any help, and medication are just placebo.
And faking real, horrifying disorder symptoms, actually takes A LOT of research and acting talant and skill, i would actually APPLAUSE to person who would play disordered system good and dedicate hard work to it. I would love to see actors and authors who are interested in research and can play various system characters, and conciously remember how memory in systems works, and don't get lost in it, and use meta-knowlegde for alters who don't have it. It may be easier to lose track when system live in one body, esp masking as singlet.
Solid take.
Really, the whole hysteria around fakers is largely overblown. The idea of mass amounts of fakers have always been a scapegoat used by ableist doctors to dismiss people with DID, but numbers have never supported this, and much of what people claim are signs of faking are just normal human variation.
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REI TODOROKI STUDY / MASTERPOST .
This is mostly ripped from discord so if it’s choppy that’s why ---
TRIGGER WARNINGS : MISOGYNY, DOMESTIC ABUSE, CHILD ABUSE, CHILDBIRTH, CHILD LOSS, GENDER DYSPHORIA.
Rei never necessarily dreamed of being a mother. She had a dream, once. She painted and has a profound natural talent for art, but her family was conservative and never entertained her getting a job. Girls like her were only good for getting married. The most rebellious thing she ever did was anonymously release a few paintings while she was engaged.
Painting continued to be a coping mechanism when she was in the mental hospital, though they were much darker --- her paintings in there were very gruesome depictions of ... typically feminine things --- pregnancy, childbirth, housewife duties. She just painted them as very painful and bloody because that's how they felt to her and that's how she emotionally processed how she sees her own value as a woman. Obviously this isn’t too relevant in the grander scheme of things but I’m just providing some insight into Rei as a painter.
Now before I start, I obviously don't write Rei as Black but i think about how in Black and poc cultures women are blamed for their abusive and shitty husbands. If he hit them its because THEY made him mad, and if he cheated it's because THEY couldn't keep him/make him happy. And i write rei with those burdens. i say this bc i remember rei being on the phone like "i can't take it anymore i can't be around him i'm scared" right before she hurt shouto and i'm like ... if she did that then she must have called her mother before. and like her mother obviously didn't tell her to leave so i hc her mother was always like "be a good wife and smooth things over, keep ur man happy, if ur household falls apart thats on u"
Rei struggled the most with Touya and fuyumi. She never hurt them or anything but she had weird behaviors around them...And her biggest crime w them was the "weak constitution" she had. With Touya she was still trying to make it work with endeavor so she kept excusing his abuse because she was trying to keep things smooth... like stupid shit like "don't make ur father upset" and "u know he has a temper". not intentional but honestly just how she was raised and she thought she was doing the right thing by avoiding conflict and keeping enji happy. She tried to protect him but honestly she didn’t resent Enji as much as she did later, with Shouto.
With fuyumi....It’s more a personal hc but I told inad that like. Rei never wanted a daughter due to how she was raised. her family was very sexist and oppressive. She cried when fuyumi was born. she did NOT want a daughter and did not want fuyumi to be like her, a woman she perceived as weak. Because my rei KNOWS she’s weak. Her quirk may have been strong but her "constitution" emotionally was frail. But fuyumi is a child and doesn’t understand why her mom gets upset when she tries to help in the kitchen and Rei tells her to stop.
Touya has every right to resent Rei --- unfortunately though, Abuse is usually a cycle… I hced Rei dealt with a lot of mental and emotional abuse from her parents, her mother especially. that's how rei's family was. and in my hc quirk marriage is just a revamped arranged marriage. like quirk marriages in and of themselves are not evil like it's just. a cultural practice basically. but rei's family w endeavor........... her abuse was most prominently her own mother, They were VERY conservative, Very “the woman should serve the man” type people. endeavor was looking for someone with the right quirk so like. It’s reasonable to think that rei’s quirk had potential to be as strong as endeavor’s, just with ice. Yet she NEVER became a pro-hero? I think it’s because her parents never even considered it. Her taking an active duty job would have been disgraceful.
And culturally, most arranged marriages are agreements. i don't think Enji stomped in and kidnapped rei. There was an agreement. He was young, too. Like. Rei probably got married at like 18-19...he was no. 2 by 20. He was so driven to be no. 1. He is 46 now, and fuyumi is 23. like he's been grinding his whole career.
So if touya’s older, they had him basically right when they got married. The kids are all about four years apart so it’s probable that he basically had a kid, waited for the quirk to manifest, and then would have another...and fuyumi is the ONLY one who doesn't have that 4 yr age gap. she's closer to touya's age than the other gaps. SO I hc Touya And fuyumi r closer in age like that Bc Touya was supposed to be the Child who Succeeded. his fire quirk WAS strong. and therefore fuyumi was actually just. a planned child. because at that time their marriage wasn't complete shit it was like. something rei was optimistic abt.
for anyone who’s seen game of thrones, there's one scene where sb accuses cersei of hating the king and she talks almost wistfully about how she was so excited to marry him bc of how strong and famous he was and she was so nervous on her wedding night but then stannis stumbled in drunk and came in 2 minutes and said another woman's name and she quickly became disillusioned by the idea of her whole marriage. I compare Rei’s view on her marriage to that scene.
she agreed to marry endeavor and he was a desirable bachelor @ that point. she was excited to try and get to know him and "be a good wife" to him but. his focus on work was always first. and rei, raised how she was and trying to make things work how she was, did her best to maintain what she thought a good home was for HIM. to keep HIM happy. i don't actually think he started out smacking everyone around. i think physically, touya rei and shouto were the people he abused while natsuo and fuyumi never got that.
he was training touya and fuyumi was planned and that was the only "happy" part of the marriage
it was when touya started “failing” that the things got ugly. I think fuyumi has memories of the family being functional and happy because at the beginning they WERE ... they were functional and did things together and acted like a nuclear family. through a child’s perception, that’s what she wanted to go back to.
Anyways, Rei Met enji. And like., She ofc didn’t love him but she at least kind of liked him as a person. When a man like that comes and asks to marry your daughter it’s not some ogre carrying her off, he was a desirable bachelor & her parents LEAPT at it.
Rei was hopeful @ first. She thought "he’s handsome and strong maybe this will be a good marriage". She romanticized him a little bit. She kept thinking about being “good enough” for him. She kept giving him children, cleaning the house, being subservient because she was taught that those things made a good wife. she tried to be a good wife.
every time he got angry or distant she just blamed herself. what did SHE do to upset him. what did SHE do that didn't make him happy enough.
Endeavor didn’t hit her until shouto in my hc ... I think w shouto he just seriously lost his mind bc 3 kids in and no perceived progress. But up until that point, every time he got angry or distant Rei blamed herself. Every time he didn’t want to look at natsuo or called Touya a failure she blamed herself. And like. That fantasy was falling apart.
A resentment started brewing. She was starting to really resent her husband to the point where Touya being so similar to him made her uncomfortable. i do hc that at the time touya looked the most like him / had a temper (obviously we know him being angry would be him lashing out bc he was abused, i'm not saying his temper is wrong or bad). And fuyumi was so similar to HER I think being around her made her sad. I don’t think rei was weak and a pushover at the beginning....She was trying her best and by the very end she was tired
Now going into when she had her youngest child. All the other children disappointed enji and by default were rei’s “failures”. She didn't give him good enough children to make him happy. That was HER fault. She loved her children of course, but being a victim of abuse from her own family would sometimes get distant from them. Rei has very said, distant eyes. she's always been that way.
Whenever enji yelled at them (I don’t think he hit them @ that point in time) she would make excuses for him.
Touya and her were developing a strained relationship bc she’d ask the wrong questions and say the wrong things... “You shouldn’t have made your father mad” and things like that in response to his abuse because in her head smoothing things over is still the best approach. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, she just...wasn’t thinking rationally. She thought she was, but she was speaking from a place of abuse herself. She was taught to keep her head down.
When Touya would get angry he’d look so much like enji she’d visibly flinch away from his yelling. It strained their relationship. Like you know how you can’t take it out on the person who makes you angry so you take it out on someone else? like that. again, 100% wrong on rei's part. she made mistakes and tried too hard to please enji. She lowkey put her fear of enji into Touya as he got older. Tried not to show it but it was so clear he made her uncomfortable. And Fuyumi. She kept thinking fuyumi was gonna end up just like her and hated that.
there's distance with both of them because of those feelings. Then she has shouto and like. He’s her whole world. He’s nothing like her or enji and he’s sweet and he thinks the world of rei...Rei ADORED shouto. Natsuo was also very close with rei because endeavor straight up ignored him.
And the shit starts where he wants to train shouto and she’s trying to stop him. She wants to put her foot down. She doesn’t want him to take her baby and make him like himself. She couldn’t protect Touya, but she won’t let the same thing happen to shouto. SHe starts being defiant. The fighting starts, the hitting starts.
And you remember how right before she burns him she was on the phone with her family? Saying “I can’t take this anymore” over and over...She wanted to leave. That HAS to mean she has called them before which means this entire time every time she had a problem she probably called her mother or something for advice. And like. I’m sure. SURE Her mother was always on the other end telling her to smooth things over. To fix it. To make it right. To be a good wife. Insinuating she was a bad one for having problems in her house.
Which is why rei never left, She didn’t think to. It never crossed her mind outside of being some silly intrusive thought she’d never entertain... She had mental health issues for years, Anxiety and depression that went unchecked and developed into a schizoaffective disorder. She didn’t hear voices but she would just develop this severe irrational paranoia. and it all came to a head when she burned shouto.
when she got to the mental hospital I don’t think she took it well at all, I think she got there and kept insisting she was fine, was in denial that she was sick. I think she kept screaming and begging enji not to take her kids from her. I think she tried refusing medications, Pocketing pills, Hiding shit. Thinking she didn’t need help, she’s not crazy! Trying to leave and walk out. Her first year there was hard because they had to restrain her, give her injections. The whole ordeal.
She was very resistant to care at first. I also hc like. She’s clearly fine and having worked in a mental hospital before a lot of people ARE fine while they’re there but they’re so scared of integrating back into society they just don’t want to leave. She's not so mentally unwell she needs to be inpatient for 10 years that's just. not realistic. She could have been discharged earlier, but she didn’t wanna go back home. She was afraid to live in the real world again. So she stayed of her own choice there.
REI DOESN’T WANT TO LIVE IN THE HOUSE ENJI BUILT. In fact, when she gets out, she sees natsuo and fuyumi argue about who is going to live with her (to take care of her) and rei just quietly says she’s decided not to live with either of them. She loves her kids, she wants to have a place in their lives again somehow, but she’s also ashamed of how Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shouto all think they have to “save” her. She’s lost all the years to raise them, but if there’s one more thing she can do for them as a mother, it’s stand up on her own two feet and not burden them any more than she already has. She tells them that she’s sorry for being weak, but that she wants things to be different. And because of that, she says she’s gonna live in a group home for women until she can get a job and get her own place. She has help from the hospital and she’s going to use those resources.
The kids try to dispute it, but Rei won’t budge. She knows she failed them as a mother and knows she can’t change her weakness in her past, but she refuses to do that to them any longer. She isn’t a fool --- she knows it will make an already hard transition that much harder, but all she’s ever been is someone’s daughter. someone’s sister. someone’s wife. someone’s mother.
For the first time in her life, she wants to be Rei.
#* HOWL » saved.#IDK WHAT TO TAG THIS AS BUT HERE.#THIS POST IS RLY LONG BUT TAKE THE TIME TO READ IT I STG
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top five worst clarke moments
5. Her Apology
We’ve all had times where we were bad at giving apologies but I promise you that no one fucking sucks at apologies like Clarke Griffin. Clarke, when presented with the chance to apologise after leaving Bellamy to die in a fighting pit, getting Raven and Shaw tortured, siding with McCreary and you know...all the other villainy shit she did in season 5, instead used it to thinly veil her trying to manipulate her people. She then turned her “apology” which was basically just ‘i did some bad things’ like she shit on the carpet, she did not, she almost got one of them killed and got two tortured and this isn’t the first time she fucked up either but she turned her apology around to say ‘you guys have done bad things too’! She really, uh, Uno-Reverse-carded them there
And yeah, they have done bad things but their bad things didn’t include killing one thousand people (guys I checked her wiki and did the math, she has killed over one thousand people I-), calling themselves the Commander of Death and traipsing around in a black cape - seriously guys, what the shit was that???
4. Leaving Murphy behind
Hey, hey, guys, you remember that time where she and Murphy apparently bonded when being held captive by Ontari? As all you Clorke stans claim? No, no, they fucking didn’t. Because when she had the chance to leave, she left without even considering Murphy - oh yeah, other than telling Titus, who hates Murphy, to “take care of him” who then later slit his throat rather than take care of Murphy so, good job Clarke, your plan is shit - and knowing full well that she left him with Ontari, who is a rapist and a known mass murderer with a temper! Clarke knew he could have died and when he had literally been taking care of her, treating her respectfully and helping her grieve??? Y’all claim he’s the one who fucked up their “friendship” in season 6? no, she left him with a woman she knew could and probably would kill him with the thinnest veils of “protection” She also then doesn’t tell anyone he’s there and let’s be real, that moment seeing him in the tunnels is probably the first moment they know he’s alive (also after all of this shit, Murphy still pumps his rapist’s heart to save her life, Murphy my boy you’re too good)
3. Left Bellamy to die
NO YOU DON’T YOU LEFT HIM TO DIE
She left Bellamy to die in that fighting pit; at that point, she knew how far Octavia was gone and that she may have actually killed Bellamy and after slapping him, which stop fucking romanticizing her hitting him, as she’s leaving him to die, Madi literally asks her about it and she said, “They made their choice.” implying that she doesn’t give a shit.
But when Echo is mad and hostile in front of her, she backtracks and claims she always cared! Liar! She’s like this one White Feminist acquaintance I had back in grade 9 who claimed that she was bullied for her race a lot, our POC friend called her out and she said ‘no, it wasn’t for my race! Just my appearance!’
Clarke really is That One Bitch who can’t tell the truth no matter what, huh?
2. Got Murphy hung
You remember that time that Murphy was minding his own business, pissing on random guys and Clarke tried to kill him? Okay, I may have sort of oversimplified it. So, Murphy’s a dick; we all know that and some of us accept it and love him for/despite it more than others and Jason purposefully set these scenes back-to-back, Murphy doing something disgusting that only a teenage boy would do and having something horrifying happen to him, but why it happens to him? Oh right, Clarke Griffin! Clarke, without proof, ignores Bellamy’s pleas to wait a goddamn second, talk to Murphy on the side and discuss it like they rationally should, and instead waltzes up to Murphy and accuses him of murder in front of a group of 100 known criminals. They already don’t like Murphy, they have a reason to try to kill him now; she knew they would take it. There’s no way she couldn’t have.
And I’m already ready for all of the protests on this one that say ‘she was full of rage’ or ‘she was grieving and not thinking clearly’ but, uh, she was thinking clearly when she saved Charlotte’s life or when she banished him - reminder that she was the one who made them banish Murphy, which would most likely lead to his death - or when she, just two episodes prior, told Wells to go kill himself by walking through acid fog. Oh, you know, #justbestiethingz
No, Clarke fucking set that plan in motion and what did she do when they started hanging Murphy? What? Stand in place? Scream a little? Basically say ‘no’ like, three times? She doesn’t do jack shit; the only time she does something is after Finn comes up the hill (oh, isn’t that an ugly look for her? Him seeing his “Princess” hang a man? How much do you want to bet she lied her ass off to Finn about the details of how the hanging started?) and Charlotte admits what she did. And what did Clarke do to Charlotte? Protected her until the end. Weird fucking shit, Griffin.
Clarke wasn’t mad or grieving. She was trying to get Murphy out of the way.
1. Shock Collared Madi
I... don't know how you look at this scene and don’t think it’s child abuse. She electrocutes her “kid” but I guess the only way you could look at it not being child abuse is if you don’t consider her Clarke’s kid which is true, she’s not Clarke’s child, thank god, but any other ways, it is still child abuse. If I see one (1) more person excuse it with “she was protecting Madi!1!” I'm gonna lose my shit. You don’t protect her by hurting her, Jesus Christ, Clarke is an abusive “mother” and yall are gross.
Bonus:
Told Wells to kill himself
You remember that time in like, season 1, episode 2 or 3 where she told Wells “if you really loved me, you’d go out there” as they all sat in the little bunker thing as the acid fog rolled through and Finn was just awkwardly sipping his alcohol? Finn was a mood but hi, fuck Clarke for telling her “friend” to go kill themselves.
Got Raven and Shaw tortured
Whether y’all like it or not, she teamed up with McCreary, leading to Raven and Shaw to be tortured. AKA I feel no pity for her when Raven has been mad at her all season, Bitch had it coming.
Chained up Emori and Murphy
She chained them up and was willing to use them as rats to test her experiment. She only stopped because Murphy threatened to kill her and Clarke Griffin only cares about her own life, haven’t you heard? I’m so fucking tired guys
Leaving Bellamy to actually bear it all
You remember when Mount Weather was just fresh? You remember when Jasper was drinking himself stupid as a coping mechanism? You remember when Clarke helped him - oh wait, she fucking didn’t!
Actually, she fucking left them and went for a walk, for an adventure and left Bellamy to actually bear the guilt of Mount Weather. Fuck her ‘I bear it so they don’t have to’ bullshit, they all bear it but you like to pretend to be the savior! Bellamy even bears most of your fucking crime
I’m too tired to have more, it’s 1:30am, this was mostly coherent and I hate her goodnight.
#anticlarke#anti clarke griffin#anti clarke#rape tw#tw rape#im tagging that for all ontari posts#also#abuse tw#tw abuse#because clarke fucking sucks#anti bellarke#antibellarke
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Okay ladies and gents. Time to clear the air. Since Reddit decided they wanted to come after me last year (I just now saw it give me a break) about a post I made FOUR YEARS AGO here we are. If you have not read my “I spent three weeks in a mental hospital” post, do so before you read this so it will make the most sense.
1. Yes, I am painfully aware that I spelled Tourette’s wrong. Autocorrect got the best of 16-year-old me. And yes, I know Tourette’s is a neurological condition and that it’s not a reason to be hospitalized. The boy with Tourette’s tried to commit suicide but when I was making this post, I already had another person in mind to “identify” (isn’t the best word I’m sorry) as the person there for a suicide attempt.
2. The touching part. This line about the boy with anger issues giving the warmest hug is very true! It was the day I was getting discharged from being in the out-patient program and he snuck me a hug while we were filing out to be picked up. He got yelled at and so did I. So yes, you are alllllll right! Touching wasn’t allowed but he went for it anyways. And just to clear the air for the nasty people in the thread saying he wanted to strangle me: I knew him personally from outside of being hospitalized. We had mutual friends and knew of each other pre-hospitalization. Being in the out-patient program together helped us get closer.
3. Another ~hot topic~ the girl who tried to kill herself luring the boy with insomnia to sleep. Opposite sexes were not allowed in bedrooms together. She sat outside his room, WITH A NURSE, reading him books. This kid was I believe 11 or 12, not really sure I never got to know him well. But he was hospitalized for schizophrenia, and also suffered from insomnia. The staff sedated him with what we all called “booty-juice” (this isn’t a joke it’s really what we called it) and he would scream the WHOLE TIME. The only way he would stop would be if this girl read to him because she was his only friend there. It sounds bad when it’s phrased like that but it’s more of a he liked talking to her the most.
4. My blog does not romanticize depression! I’m sorry if that is what it seems like, but my point of making my blog was for me to journal and post my thoughts somewhere my mom wouldn’t be able to read them. I fucking HATE being depressed! There’s no romanticizing here because I fucking wish I wasn’t like this. It was a coping mechanism; and I get it might not seem like that but none of you know me personally to be able to decide whether or not it works. This leads into point number 5.
5. NONE OF YOU KNOW ME PERSONALLY SO STOP ACTING LIKE IT. I DO NOT WALLOW IN MY OWN DEPRESSION BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE IT.
6. I was not self-diagnosed! I went to multiple psychiatrists and therapists since I was 13 and I was diagnosed and put on medication for severe depression and anxiety. I wish I didn’t go to therapy and that I didn’t have anything wrong with me because it would’ve saved my family a lot of time and money and I feel guilty for burdening them with that! I am however, getting better and am off my meds and have not relapsed in over a year!
7. None of you, and I mean NONE of you, should be shitting on and belittling my experience. My hospitalization was not as light as my post was. My point with posting this was to make people realize that people are more than their diagnosis. But all of you saying that these people never told me I was beautiful and that “mental illness isn’t like that” maybe can’t imagine someone who hates themselves being nice?? I’m sorry if you felt personally triggered by the fact that the girl I roomed with that had bulimia told everyone at the group session that day we were beautiful in our bodies because we were talking about how we didn’t like who we are or how we looked. And yeah, I was admitted into a nicer mental hospital, I know that. My insurance told my parents where they would cover and that’s it, that’s where I went. We didn’t have wings, it was girls on one side of the hall, boys on the other.
8. Nobody’s experiences being hospitalized are going to be the same. Things in my state have a high chance of being different than yours. I’m sorry that I had a good experience being hospitalized; I got lucky that the kids admitted were so nice to me and that the staff actually wanted me to get better. I was never “doped up” like some of the replies were. In fact, the staff didn’t give me meds until the third night because they wanted to get an all clear from my doctor that I could take them. But just because you or someone else you know had a bad experience doesn’t mean mine didn’t happen?
9. I never said these people’s mental illnesses were beautiful. I thought that if anything, the fact I got to learn more about them as people besides what they were admitted for was beautiful. That there is more depth to people than their mental illnesses which people forget sometimes. THAT’S THE POINT OF THE POST.
10. “I love the way that everyone is completely different. There's only one person with anger issues, only one drug taker...” First, yeah I know. That’s how I wanted my post to be formatted: people would lose interest if I repeated the same types of people in there multiple times. Second, there were a lot of people there and I just picked out the people that stuck out most in my head that I felt deserved written justice for how they told me they were treated. There were multiples of many conditions and my intentions were not to make it seem like I was degrading some of these people by grouping them together.
There’s more I could bring up but I’m going to stop with 10 points. I realize that I might seem angry through how I responded, but if you had 200 comments telling you your experiences were fake you might understand the hurt and frustration. I just never thought I’d had to defend my hospitalization to anyone. Tumblr community, thank you for being much more receptive to my post and seeing the message I was trying to convey. I hope you all are safe, take care of yourselves.
Rylee
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and whilst im on it and dont Really Fuckin Want to have to reiterate any more, heres a goddamn breakdown okay
i hate the way this fandom treats gay people.
gay men are not written as human beings. they are written as sex toys. they are written to be abused and raped for sexual gratification. and honestly i find this fucking disgusting, that another human would see the abuse and think its hot.
this applies doubly for fics sexualizing child abuse and childhood sexual assault.
i sincerely hope you seek help as to why you find raping and abusing people (especially children) sexy, because its just... not healthy.
the reason why im so against these types of things is because
fanfic is usually gay kids first experiences with gay media, especially if theyre still in the closet. this can and will lead them into thinking abuse is normal and they should expect it from their partners.
because of this, im also totally for protected and clean and safe sex in fics too,
abusers will use this content to groom their victims. (it happened to me, i was sodomised at age 13 thanks to works like these).
its a lame excuse to say “well, SANE people would understand its just fiction” because like. if you tell any adult of any disposition “this sexual act feels good” theyre likely to attempt it.
“i didnt write this for abusers so its a misuse” well if you write content like this, you need to be ready to handle the consequences of it BEING misused. its your creation, you have to deal with the consequences that a kid got attacked because of your fic
if you look at kids being abused and find it sexy, thats so immoral and unethical i cant even begin. why do you sexualise kids. thats disgusting.
“ive put an authors note and tagged correctly so i can do what i want” yeah because ~everyone knows~ abusers heed warnings and tags. its a cop out so you dont have to consider what it is youre actually writing.
seeing these situations as sexually gratifying is fetishizing abuse. thats why i call it that, because thats what it is.
now, this isnt me saying you cant write “dark issues”. i just want ppl to think about the angle theyre portraying them at.
this is a BIG DIFFERENCE and this difference is IMPORTANT.
also, fic is in so way shape or form comparable to videogames, porn, or movies, since all three things are regulated and can be banned. if a porn actor loses one piece of documentation they arent allowed to act. movie and games have been banned before for intense violence. all three still depict graphic sexual violence from times to time, and this is CONSTANTLY battled against by activist groups.
fic is much more open world and pretty much only taken down if its plagiarism. there are no restrictions and can be accessed by anyone, and thats why its important to talk about these issues.
as for why the “coping mechanisms” excuse doesnt work:
if youre reliving your abuse with these fics thats not healthy. especially if youre sexualizing and romanticizing it. all youre doing is justifying in your mind that you deserved it, or that it wasnt really abuse.
i know it can be difficult to move past romanticizing your abuser (most victims do this), but its the best thing to do. otherwise youre putting yourself in danger of being abused again either by the same person or someone else. you need to understand that abuse is bad, and you need to understand how bad the extent of your abuse was in order to begin moving forward. this process wont happen if youre refusing to take off your rose tinted glasses.
you cant write a detailed sexual fic of a minor being abused and say “fiction doesnt affect reality so writing this means nothing” and then in the same breath say its how you “cope”. thats hypocritical since youre literally saying it affects your reality.
coping mechanisms can be unhealthy! i used to self harm to cope, and it was bad for me! i was hurting myself! if i said i dealt with my anger by beating up my boyfriend, that would be unhealthy and abusive!
this fandom wrote a fic where 17 yearold link who is implied to have a mental handicap gets drugged and raped by 40+ year old rhett and the comments were saying it was hot when he cried out in pain. this fandom wrote and supported a fic where jewish link gets recused from nazi germany by rhett. this fandom wrote and supported a fic where stevie gets corrective raped by r&l. this fandom wrote and supported a fic where rhetts WIFE jessie dresses up and roleplays as link whilst rhett has sex with her.
and away from fic, people ALWAYS oversexualise. on every post is a sexual comment. ive banned them on my own posts and i still get them, even after saying i dont consent to them.
no one says anything because yall react poorly to ANY criticism and people are afraid of yall.
and anyway:
i namedropped because they namedropped me. calling me a little shit and an ass and a bully. ive been called homophobic slurs. ive had people tell me im not really gay because im trans as well as other transphobic bs. my friends have received asks calling me names because they dare to interact with me.
the anon sending me bullshit left a trail on my statcounter so it was easy to point out who was sending me hate. if youre saying im stalking youre giving me too much credit for what was literally copy and pasting an ip address into google. i dont care that much about you to waste my time like that. im sorry for that but only that.
#txt#ethan and the rhinkfandom#long post#@ anyone seeing a fandumb mom talking abt me: show em this post#and tell em to stop talking abt me theyre wasting their breath lmao
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You Wanted 10 Pages on the Meaning of Life, So I Wrote the Narrative of How I Lost My Answer
I suppose I must have discovered the question “Why?” before any other. The moment I could question anything, it was motivation. It seems to be a commonality of the normative human experience, based on the shared grievance every parent faces having to bear their child’s repetitive uttering of the inquiry. It marks a point when a child learns the complexity of language and its relation to their condition.
I spent the subsequent formative years absorbing every answer to that question like a sponge. I was constantly prompted to ask, and some people took the time to answer, and I retained each response. Despite how thoughtful or thoughtless, gentle or crass, filtered or raw as the deliverer saw fit at that moment in time, that response contributed to my definition of the world.
Specific individuals certainly carried more weight in this process of definition I was partaking in, such as my parents and siblings. My mother was a devout Catholic, who raised me with 9 o’clock Sunday morning mass and Wednesday evening catechism. A lot of her answers to my questions of “why” revolved around this narrative that I heard before any other, and in looking back, it is not unreasonable to assume she held onto the faith for that purpose. Not just for her children who asked, but to fulfill the same questions she probably asked her mother some thirty-odd years prior.
There is a moment, though I cannot remember a marked point where it occurred, that I realized not every answer to my questions of why was necessarily true. Perhaps it was when it seemed my learned definitions could not reasonably all contain truth simultaneously. This brought about a deepening of my sense of self, as I realized I had a decision to make each time information was given to me - to keep it or to throw it away. However, this perception of free will appears a fallacy to me now - how could I have had the capacity to make that decision, without understanding? I could not, but I really believed I contained the understanding, which is a naive impression some people carry through their entire lives. Something I now understand as a hindrance was my misunderstanding that people who misinformed me were doing it intentionally. This vilified the people I found to be dishonest, but also left the information (God) from people I trusted (my mother) reserved as undeniably true.
I was probably around ten years old when I began to conceive the idea that I did not know everything, and as a matter of fact would never know. Perhaps it was the introduction of infinity in Math, or space in Science, but I know I became acutely aware there were things outside of my capacity for understanding. With this newfound realization, I began to grow suspicious of every person who told me definite information. My interest in the question of “why” resurfaced, but with a new level of desired understanding. It could be asked not just of actions, but of supposed information. If someone could not adhere to my prodding, their teaching was as good as lying to me. The budding adolescent began questioning everything everyone had ever told her. This was also when I first remember experiencing panicked episodes, involving disordered eating, self-harm, and manic anger.
I went through middle school rather confused, as most remember the experience, and each memory involves sullen or anxious feeling. I kept most of my feelings from my parents, because I thought they would overreact. I attended a charter school, and there were about a hundred kids in each grade. Children took a standardized test three times per year to track their learning progress, and place them in a classroom of students within a similar scoring range. There was a huge emphasis on academic merit and competition, with frequent award ceremonies for performance. I remember agonizing over those tests, each grade, award, and ranking, which contributed to my long-term academic success, but also my need for validation.
I was an altar server at my church, got good grades in school, played the trombone and volleyball. However, I had difficulty connecting with other kids my age. Most of my peers did not seem to feel the weight of the world, and the ones who did could not understand why I was so sad even though my parents weren’t divorced and I went to church every Sunday. It seemed as though some people were sad, and some were not, but most people who were sad had a good reason.
I found solace in obsession over boy bands and actors, and engaging with other fans online. I was one of the first generations to have social media before I could drive, or even cross the main road from my neighborhood to the playground. This was where the majority of my unhealthy coping mechanisms derived. I found a whole online community of other depressed young women, which felt like a relief at the time. However, while the community was meant to validate each other and our experiences, it also normalized and even romanticized unsound means of handling those experiences. It is an interesting problem that exists, because it is impressionable minds being influenced by equally impressionable minds. Coupling that with mental illness, it is no wonder why the youth is depressed. There are facets of this community for everyone, too, because they usually naturally stem from any fanbase. This is because people use artists and influencers and other idolized individuals as a source of motivation, and sometimes to an obsessive degree. The mentally ill find one another in each fanbase, and bond over their shared stories of salvation through whatever song or video, and eventually feel comfortable sharing more personal experiences. For me, my infatuation with characters in books and movies was merely a substitute for when I would finally be old enough for a real romance. Romance was the cure for all of my sadness.
I was raped the day after my 14th birthday by my first boyfriend. I don’t think I even understood what had happened to me. It was the summer before I began high school, and my first romance had really betrayed me. In the months that followed my trauma, I had to endure not only how it altered my definition of the world, but also of myself. The young man who violated me found it worth bragging about. I entered the hellscape of contained adolescents which was high school with a collection of choice words to my reputation. For a long time, it felt as though the definition of myself was primarily constructed by the people around me, even though theirs did not align with mine.
At first, I felt shame. I was no longer a virgin - something I knew God was not going to be pleased with. I think about a month in, we had some sort of health lesson on sex and consent, and then I really fucking hated God. I was struck by the same inconsistencies other scholars and common people alike have found with monotheism throughout history - if God is all-powerful, how could he let this happen to me, if he is still all-good? The design surrounding my circumstances could not have come from anything with good intentions, certainly nothing worth worshipping.
I decided that God was going to hate me anyways, and so I was going to hate him, too. Instead, I focused on repairing my social status. I found that I tended to surround myself with other miserable people, and this gave me some dark, delicious satisfaction. I could find purpose in the degree of imperativeness possessed by my relationships to others. There are cultural phenomena which catered towards this sick perception, and I do view it as an illness in hindsight. I had an understanding of Adult Concepts like “right,” “love,” “just,” which was that they all called for sacrifice. This tendency led me to person after person as I prepared to use my desperation for validation through selflessness to their advantage.
I got into a relationship with a piece-of-shit-boy to prove to everyone that I was not a slut. After about a year of turmoil that continued to escalate, I enrolled in an early college program to be at a different school from him. I was taking a Global Ethics course my sophomore year of high school, and I was prepared to find a new set of rules to fasten to my existence. However, any ideology that attempted to justify the experiences I had faced, and was still facing, automatically became discredited to me. As I was in the midst of trying to flee an abusive relationships, I was learning about various divine forces that could be controlling me, such as karma, and ethical frameworks surrounding ideologies from family to greater good. The course was focused on the various definitions of morally right and wrong, and it seemed to me as though there was no set of ethics applicable to something like the human race. The more moral frameworks I read about, the less morals had any credence in my mind. My boyfriend was fucked up because of other circumstances; blame could be traced back indefinitely for why he was the way he was. Blaming myself felt more concrete, but there were other factors at play I could not recognize from my position. Who was going to tell me who to blame? Without morals, I thought I could at least cling to truth, but found doubt to be an unavoidable obstacle in searching for it.
One truth the world seemed to project back to me time and time again were states of subjectivity. I found myself becoming increasingly upset, because despite their lack of rationality, they were widely accepted. Frequently, the facts of my being a woman, a person with mental illness, in a family dangling off the edge of “middle class”, and so on, were brought to my attention through how I was treated by others. These assigned facts put me at some disadvantage, but I was well aware that there were other oppressions I would never experience. It seemed privilege could be measured in how few labels one’s assigned - but as I aged through the Obama presidency and into the Trump conniption, in a world of instantaneous globalized media, I learned that there was much more vocabulary surrounding these feelings I had. They talked about misogyny and “red flags” - and I felt as though my suffering did not have to have a reason in order for it to end. It was no longer a unique thing, but a shared experience, one of which other people had escaped.
I have to say, it felt good to know other people were seeing the same shit I was seeing, outside of myself. That was the best part of growing up. At first, it was just seeing it, and I was looking around to only see mindless participants and evil perpetrators. When I found out there were other people not just defining these phenomenon, but also combating them, I was impatient to involve myself in the process. I was not convinced, however, of moral right or wrong on a global scale, but I understood tragedy to be something I did not want around. For someone who was not sure what to do with herself, looking around and worrying about the state of the whole seemed like a productive use of energy.
In my social justice phase, finally rid of horrible men, I poured myself into public outcry, as well as education. I read academic papers, watched and read the news, went to hear experts speak. I began deconstructing all of the opinions I’d been thoughtlessly carrying without realizing, and I attempted to participate in dialogue. I had to learn my place within that as well. As more people began trying to speak over one another, I understood the importance of boundaries within where I could speak - it was only valid to discuss things personally affecting me, and do what was in my capability to further project the voices behind other necessary discussions.
There was a lapse, though, when I was violated again by a third man in my junior year of high school. After going through a transformation, and feeling grounded and confident, I still fell victim to my subjectivity. I had been sneaking around my strict parents, and the kid who was meant to take me home refused to without sex first. The fact was, I was going to have sex I didn’t want or have to answer my parent’s questions of “why”. My parents subjected me to their expectations of a socially acceptable young lady, and that boy subjected me to his expectations of a car ride recipient, apparently. It did not matter that I had endured an abusive relationship for a year and a half; he still saw slut.
It was at this moment that I decided my existence was a fucking joke. I thought if someone was making this happen he probably really enjoyed himself. If God is real, he has to be a man. I began throwing myself into surrealism, and lost any motivation to learn or expand upon myself at all. I drove up to school each day, and sat in the parking lot for however long class was supposed to be, smoking bowl after bowl. My life became narrowed to finding ten more dollars, and then fifty cents or a dollar for a cigarette or two, finding a place to nap, a parking lot where no one would mind if I sat for a while.
The funny thing was, through all of this, no one was worried about me until an entire semester had gone by and the grades came in. That’s when my mom really thought she began connecting the dots, but blamed it all on my deviation from her expectations. My lack of pride in my appearance, disinterest in things like homecoming and school spirit, and especially my absence in church, disappointed my mom. It was difficult to see her come to conclusions about me from her narrowed perspective, but also could not bring myself to communicate my side to her. Even if I did, I knew our ideologies were too distant to discuss everything productively. This deepened the divide in our relationship.
I was just passing time until I could flee. I had this notion that becoming an adult would give me the freedom to rise above all of these definitions and find my own motivations, purely because I would be able to leave the place I had remained stagnant in for my entire life. Every negative association I had to my home overshadowed any good childhood memory. I found others who were dismantling their ties with hopes to leave soon.
This is where finding motivation became a precedent. I was going to have to start trying if I really wanted to leave. My sights set everywhere; I could see myself bustling in a city in New England, or meandering through a sunny West coast campus. I even entertained the thought of studying in France, going as far as to enroll in two French courses my senior year. However, I had no concept of how my established habits would inhibit these from being possible.
The work of actually reaching these destinations loomed over me, and I ignored it. It was easy to do when I was high all the time. I fantasized about eating brie in an authentic Parisian cafe while I sat in some parking lot when my French class was in session. I longed for rigorous discourse with people in wire-rimmed glasses while my Common Application sat blank. When the deadlines popped up in my planner, I smoked more.
I could not explain what possessed me to disassociate from my life so strongly. I guess this is my attempt to find out. Obviously, it worked out. I found a college nestled in some pretty mountains in Pennsylvania that wasn’t going to make me specialize in anything right away.
I am currently in the process of rebuilding my existence which I have been unsuccessful in annihilating. Part of that is finding the motivation. There are numerous things which I could list as being motivations, and the capacities which they fulfill are diverse but have an undeniable common factor, which is that they bring me some sort of contentment. I refrain from using the word happy, because anyone who solely pursues pleasure is met with immense disappointment in such an uncomfortable and unforgiving world.
From my observation of my peers, a common theme within their motivations is some goal for the future. However, I have found that my inability to invest in any “future” is rooted in how ineffective it is to conceive it. People create an ideal future, and spend the present moment working towards it, ignoring the fact that it only has as much substance as any idea. Setting any expectation, to me, only creates infinite possibilities of failure and a singular possibility of success. Perhaps the motivation is found in enjoying that process, but I do not see how it is possible to enjoy doing something when you do not know where it is going.
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