#last post before going ghost for the next 10 days- i think ill even delete the app tonight not to be tempted

[archived-gtronpa-account]

I’d love to see a giant!Shuichi with Kaito and Maki. Perhaps a modified training time?

Absolutely! This is one of the top 3 asks that's been in the inbox and I'm a little sad it took so long to deliver, hope you all enjoy either way!

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Word count: 1500

Summary: Kaito drags Maki far from school for training. She already isn't fond of training itself, but she likes it even less so when a dangerous individual joins them tonight.

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It hadn't crossed Maki's thoughts that as a space enthusiast, Kaito would know the best spots for stargazing. But as he lead her through the dark depths of the woods, she thought it was the only reasonable explanation.

"We're almost there, just a little longer," the boy tugged her hand and walked ahead, leading the way as if she could somehow get lost on her own. She didn't retreat her hand, though.

Soon enough, they reached what Maki guessed was a clearing, exceptionally clear of trees too; a stark contrast to the thick woods they'd walked through with its closely-knit trees. Kaito cupped his hands and called out in the air, "Hey, Shuichi! Look who I brought."

She followed his eyes up towards the sky. Her mind blanked when she didn't see the starry sky but rather two moons- no; a pair of eyes peering down at her. The longer she stared, the clearer the shape of a head followed the eyes, likely taller than her whole, and the more she felt the nerves in her brain tangle up.

"Kaito!" She breathed out, in unison with whatever monstrosity hid in the shadows. The voice made her step back despite her best effort not to.

"Relax you t- Whoa whoa whoa whoa, hey! What's this?" Kaito pointed an accusatory finger at her. She followed his glare and found a knife in her fist she hadn't realized she'd grabbed. She wouldn't drop it, though.

"Kaito, you didn't tell me we would- you didn't tell me about this." She pointed with her knife at the giant- human- thing that stood a good thirty meters above her head. "Of course I'll bring something to defend myself if you bring me into your death traps all the times." She grabbed his arm and dragged him back on their track.

"Hold on, he's an okay guy, trust me! We train together every night and I thought you two could become good friends so that's why-" a sharp yank made him stumble forward and silenced him. She hurried on before she could feel any tremors following them.

"An okay guy? Do you hear yourself? That's what I mean by deathtraps, you can't make the entire world into your own big friend group." She replayed his words in her mind and sucked in a sharp breath. "How long have you been coming here? You're not meeting that- whatever again."

Maki felt a hand fall on her shoulder to make her halt, or at least attempt to. She only stopped to glance back at taller (but at least human) boy, still more focused on their surroundings.

"Why can't you trust me? Shuichi is a good guy and my friend. You could try to see for yourself, but if you won't then you can leave and I won't stop you." Before she could reply, he slipped from her grip and walked back.

The crazy moron. He surely didn't have anything to defend himself besides his fists and speeches. If anything happened to him she would be left alone to deal with the aftermath. Knowing him, no amount of force or reasoning would change his mind. Maki felt like tearing her hair off, but instead, she followed after him and made sure to smack the back of his head when she caught up.

"You'll regret this," she kept a firm grip on the knife under her skirt. Kaito only gave her a bright grin and didn't reply.

Once back to square one, it took a moment for the impossibly large face to appear above them again, half-hidden behind thick leaves.

"Kaito, this is a bad idea, you should let her leave." Maki watched the boy move and talk. Nothing looked odd about his face or behaviour, nor his speech. How strange it felt to look at someone so normal-looking, only scaled up to tower over her.

"How is this bad? He invited me to train, so I'll stay." Time crawled by before the being stepped out and sat across from her. Somehow assigning a body to the head made it less freakish, if only a bit.

He lifted his hand, and rather than grabbing her he only gave a feeble wave. "Besides Kaito I never got anyone to stay long enough to converse. Humans usually run away when they see me, so I don't know what to say... But hi, I don't bite." Kaito moved beside the giant... and gave him a pat on the knee.

"Well, this didn't go so bad, now did it?" Two glares settled heavy on the boy, and he audibly gulped. "R-Right. Anyway, it's fifty push-ups and sit-ups for today, and no slacking off." Kaito took his coat off and got to work right then. The girl looked up at the giant boy and he stared back; both looked at Kaito, blatantly ignorant or blissfully unaware of his absurdity. They followed his suit.

Maki finished the 'training' in a breeze. "I'm done," she didn't wait for a reply before stepping back to lean on a tree and watch over the duo. Kaito lay on his back without a care for push-ups, but Maki was more interested in the giant moving in what seemed like awkward warm-ups.

Even his smallest movement sent tremors under her threatened to make her lose balance. More than once did his feet get stuck between two trees, bending them and breaking twigs in dozens with only a twitch of his limb. Anytime he caught her peeking, his face would flush and he would look away, as would she. Kaito was as crazy as she'd judged seeing how close he stayed to 'Shuichi', who at least did try to keep his distance. What stupidy did he have stored in his brain, if he could stand to be so close to a guy so tall a flick of his fingers could snap his spine?

"I'm really glad you two met. Training with two people separately every night was starting to wear me out... Forget I said that." Kaito held his hand up to the sky and formed different angles with his fingers. Maki wondered which constellations he was looking at; she also wondered how training could tire him out when he always ended up stargazing halfway through.

The- Shuichi (the name left a strange aftertaste in her throat) abandoned training as well in favour of laying down on his stomach and laying his head down in crossed arms much too close to Kaito, who didn't acknowledge him. She had to wonder just how long the two had known each other; Kaito could make a week-long friendship feel like a lifelong one.

"Maki, right?" The voice startled her enough to flinch. She re-tightened her grip on her knife and looked at the giant boy, acknowledging him with a short nod. "Kaito's told me a bit about you.'

"He did? What did he say?" The idea of her conversations being laid bare to a stranger made her hair stand on its ends. She took a couple steps closer to the two boys.

"Nothing too interesting, the usual 'I'll befriend her whether she likes it or not' that he says about everyone. I only remember your name since he kept bringing it up." Large hazel eyes drifted to Kaito's resting form, pensive. "There was something you kept saying, too. What was it...?"

"Hey, not cool!" Kaito's eyes shot open, "You can't reveal the private stuff-" His face bumped into the giant's nose, silencing him.

"I remember now!" His hand came towards Kaito. Whatever he was about to say or do, Maki would never know, as she charged for his hand and ran her knife through its palm.

"Maki!" An arm reached around her waist and pulled her away. She turned around and found something almost hurt in the boy's expression that made her mind stop for a second, before looking him up and down and reminding herself she was responsible for his safety.

"No, it's fine. Being around me takes some getting used to." She glanced back at Shuichi, who kept his hand on the ground, as if hiding his scar in embarrassment. She would have liked to at least see her work. "Do me a favour, though, and don't ever aim for my eyes or something, 'cause that would end badly," He got up and stepped back away from them, but she swore there was a threatening hint in his tone.

Silence stretched on as the two underwent a stare-down, with Kaito stuck in-between and stuttering to sort the situation out. "Ah- look, it's getting late. We should get going. See ya, Shuichi."

"Right. Good night, Kaito," And when she turned around to leave, certain he would ignore her (and glad if he did), "I'll look forward to seeing you again, Maki."

She didn't reply and kept going forward. Kaito soon caught up to her. "I didn't know you were the scaredy type. Anyway, this didn't go as bad as I thought... if only you could put that knife away. Wh-Where'd you even get that? Anyway, you're coming tomorrow?"

A frown tugged at her lips, and she was quick to pull it back. She still had to come to make sure Shuichi wouldn't try anything. "We'll see."

[moneypedia]

How to Defend Against False Accusations: A Personal Defense and 5 Guidelines to Protect The Truth

August 5, 2018 By Drew Shepherd

[Note: This post contains details about an undiagnosed case of borderline personality disorder (BPD). These details are included for informational purposes only, not to spread hate towards people with the illness.

If you or a loved one have been diagnosed with BPD, however, you may want to avoid this article.]

Guilty until proven innocent.

That’s the new norm these days.

Our current social climate has made it empowering to be a victim. And any abusers left standing must be exterminated—whether they’re guilty or not.

Please don’t think I’m downplaying the experience of actual victims though.

I know what it’s like to be among the lowest of society, and the struggle of real victims is part of the inspiration behind this site.

But the inconvenient truth is that all these “abusers” aren’t the monsters they’re made out to be.

Why do I say that you ask?

Because I’m one of them.

And this is my story.

The Accusation(s)

During my early twenties, I got involved with a girl who I later realized had borderline personality disorder (BPD).

I’ve already written about the experience and I’ve alluded to it multiple times since. So please read that article before this one if you haven’t already.

BPD is a serious mental illness, but most people have never heard of it, let alone know how to diagnose it.

If you’re not aware of how people with the disorder act, this post will come off as a rant against an innocent girl who liked me—which couldn’t be further from the truth.

But to summarize, the most notable symptom of BPD is the inability to regulate emotions. It’s a symptom so powerful that a sufferer’s feelings can define his or her reality. And this is what leads to many false accusations.

Manipulation, emotional abuse, cheating, promiscuity—she publicly accused me of all them.

It’s part of the process of “painting someone black.” The BPD person goes through cycles of both extreme love and hate for their loved one, but once the relationship ends, the other party is permanently devalued.

Of course this treatment is reserved for those in close relationships with the BPD sufferer. Outsiders will only see a victim pleading her case.

I’ve stayed quiet on these accusations so far since most of them don’t have any substance, but I unfortunately made one mistake that appears to give her claims some validity.

So I’m sure that she already has, or eventually will use this evidence against me. And if her false accusations were to gain traction, they would not only destroy my reputation, but also the legitimacy of the message I present on this site.

The latter is my primary reason for defense.

I’ve always said that the Bible is the basis for my moral judgment, and that couldn’t be more important than in sexual matters.

Now do I always control my lustful impulses and thoughts?

And do I always prevent myself from viewing images I shouldn’t see?

No.

I’m a Christian but I’m still a sinful human being. Controlling lust is part of the lifelong battle against sin in the Christian life.

But when it comes to things like fornication and adultery, I’ve held true to my stance on abstinence.

And as tough as it is to be a twenty-something with this stance in our sex-saturated world, it’s beyond frustrating to be accused of doing the complete opposite.

I’m an ambassador for what I believe. And I can’t allow anything on this site—faith-related or not—to be diminished because of one person’s claims.

So I’ll go into detail here about what really happened, and then I’ll show you how to defend against false accusations once and for all.

Drew “The Player”

I’ll preface my story with a little background information.

I was going into my last semester in college, and it had been about a year since I saw my accuser in person.

Things didn’t end well between me and her the last time we were “together.” But I was admittedly still interested in her—even with all the red flags.

It appeared that both of us were sad with the way the first go ‘round ended. So I foolishly tried to work something out with her before the semester started.

To my surprise, I was ignored and indirectly shot down.

How a normal girl would’ve reacted

It hurt pretty bad after putting myself out there for someone I thought still cared. But rejection is a part of life, so I moved on.

What’s crazy though, is that she changed her mind at some point afterwards. And even though I never got a direct response from her, she apparently assumed we were in a quasi-relationship.

Now fast forward to February.

It was the week of Valentine’s Day. And while I did still think of her, I wasn’t sending a Valentine’s Day anything to a girl who I didn’t trust, who now lived in a different state, and who couldn’t even respond to my direct communication.

The only reason I entertained the thought of us getting back together—if we were ever truly together in the first place—was because she hoovered me back in.

Hoovering is a term that describes actions similar to what its namesake, the Hoover vacuum does.

It’s a tactic people with personality disorders subconsciously use to suck loved ones back in after a failed relationship.

In this case, she used one of the social media apps we both had to convince me that she was open to a renewed relationship, and that she had changed for the better.

But at this point, I was just focused on schoolwork because I had no clue what this girl was thinking.

I had a senior project for an external company that took most of my time that semester.

My project group and I met just about every weekday. And at the time, we were all trying to meet a deadline coming up the next week.

The day after Valentine’s Day, one of my teammates mentioned that we should go play trivia at a local bar. But being the introverted party-pooper I am, I declined.

My schedule involved waking at around 5:30 each day. My teammates were always out too late for my liking, and I knew I’d never make it back in time to get enough sleep if I went.

So I gave the whole, “Thanks, but no thanks” spiel even though I knew they wouldn’t let me off that easy.

Our team was a pretty tight group—especially for four people who were assigned to each other at random.

We had a ton of inside jokes by the end of the semester. And they were the first to tease me at graduation because my honor stole nearly fell as I walked across the stage.

So naturally, they all had a good laugh at me for not wanting to miss my bedtime.

Of course it was all playful fun though. I did get back at them numerous times over the semester, but I’ll admit that I have an off-kilter personality that lends itself to being teased.

So anyway, we went our separate ways and I headed to bed.

The next day, I saw an email from the night before saying that I was invited to a school-specific social app. I didn’t see the email until the early morning though because I went to bed early.

I had never heard of the app before and I was skeptical. So my first thought after waking and reading the email was, “What the heck is (app name here)?”

My second thought was, “Who’s the funny guy who sent this?”

Now I knew it was someone who previously had my email address.

Of course any student could have pulled that info from the school’s directory, but I doubt anyone would have gone through the trouble of searching their class roster, finding me, and then using my email address for the sake of hitting me up on an app.

So it had to be someone with whom I worked with closely or had a personal relationship with.

With these facts in mind, I falsely concluded that it was a prank from my teammate that the rest of the group was in on.

They had just gone out together the night before. And they always found a way to mess with me—even when I wasn’t around.

So just like any other time I felt I was being pranked, manipulated, or taken advantage of, I played along with the hope that the other party wouldn’t realize until it was too late (and this has been my M.O. since I was a kid).

But doing this, in hindsight, was a terrible idea.

Any form of participation on what I later realized was a hookup app would paint me in a bad light. And the consequences of my actions weren’t as clear at 5:30 in the morning.

After I made a quick profile—complete with pictures no man would ever use if he was truly seeking casual sex—I waited about 15 minutes for a response that never came.

Then after realizing how bad my actions could appear without context, I quickly deleted the app and went on with my day.

I’m not sure if I completely wiped the profile I created. But since the app was lesser-known and low key about its hookup aspect—it’s not like I signed on to Tinder—I figured this wouldn’t be a problem.

Outside of my own actions with the invite and the app though, I don’t know anything else. But there’s a chance that a troll profile made 10 minutes after I woke could end up biting me. And that’s why I’ve chosen to address it.

Now, I’m almost certain this invite was from my accuser. And I still kick myself for not recognizing the true source of the bait.

My actions gave her the apparent confirmation that I was “playing the field.” And within the week, she either started, or just made it obvious that she was sleeping with another guy to spite me—a wild and disproportionate response to the thought that your S.O. may be seeing someone else.

So once I confirmed that this actually happened, I ghosted her and all her drama, focused on my schoolwork (which led to my first 4.0), and then went along with my life.

People with BPD are notorious for doing stuff like this. It’s the reason why a popular book covering the illness is called Stop Walking On Eggshells (affiliate link):

They’ll cry about a lack of communication but then ignore you when you reach out to them.

They’ll go on about how lonely they are while sleeping with one of their (or even your) “friends” behind your back.

They’ll say you’re too stupid to complete a task but discredit you when you do it, and then raise the bar higher so you won’t reach the new mark.

After a while you won’t know what to do because she’ll never be satisfied. And everyone else will chalk it up to you not knowing how to treat a woman.

No-win situations and constant testing are common to those in relationships with these people—especially in regards to anything sexual. So I presume the invite was a test to see if I was some dirtbag who would cheat on his partner.

Now I’d hesitate to call it cheating either way since she ignored my attempts to directly communicate, and I had no idea what our relationship status was.

But the other “fact” she gathered was that I was a player who enjoyed casual sex (an assumption that would have driven a younger me mad with laughter).

Look, I understand that I don’t have a squeaky-clean Christian boy appearance—going through trials doesn’t purify the outside after all.

But that doesn’t mean I partake in the same activities those who look like me may be into. And it for sure doesn’t mean that my moral character is anything different than what I present on this site.

Of course it doesn’t help that I’m black either…but I won’t go down that road.

I should also note that I don’t have a personal Facebook or Instagram account. So it’s tough for others to know much about my life unless they read this site or talk to me or my loved ones personally.

This blank space makes me an easy target for accusations since I can be unknowingly attacked through mediums where I can’t defend myself. And there are no videos of me playing with my dog to fill the holes left by my “shady” lifestyle.

Usually this isn’t a problem as most of the people I meet don’t care about my online presence. But of course there’s always one person who assumes the worst case scenario. And it’s sad that in my case, this person was someone I genuinely liked before.

These obsessive behaviors were nothing new though:

This same girl cried sobbed in the middle of one of our classes—when we were both in our twenties mind you—because I didn’t initially return her interest.

She would go from spaced-out to depressed and then stare at me like it was my fault.

She even accused me of cheating after seeing a pic my mom took of me when I was at dinner with my family.

So you can imagine the relief I felt when I closed the door on that for good.

At this point, the only ones who still believe her lies—or to be fair to the illness she has, her reality—are people I’ve never met.

But I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just annoyed that my life is still negatively affected because I fell for the wrong girl.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the honest truth.

How to Craft Your Defense

So now that my story’s out of the way, how do you fight your own false accusations?

It’s not too difficult.

Just follow these 5 guidelines to protect yourself in both the present, and the future:

1) Remember the Alibi

As tempting as it is to piece together a story that makes you look like a saint, you have to ensure the truth you present is actually…well, true.

Since I couldn’t remember all this off the top of my head, I dug through my old emails and group conversations to get the timeline right. And I could always use them again if legal action was involved.

It also helps that I have an archive of posts here that clearly present my personality and the mistakes I’ve made.

You can even compare this post to the one I wrote on BPD earlier and you’ll see numerous similarities. If anyone thought I was lying, they could search the other 40+ posts here too to see that the story adds up.

But if you don’t have thousands of words as supporting evidence, just take your time, breathe, and write down what happened as best as you remember.

False accusations can cloud your memory when you first hear them, and your emotions will push for a raw defense. But if you start writing what you remember, you can put that passion to good use now, and update your writing later with more facts.

A story set in writing will be a great resource to have. You don’t want to lean on your memory or your speech when the pressure’s on.

If you write down what happened, you’ll also find other bits of evidence you’ll need to prepare your defense. And if your audience is really concerned with the truth, they’ll take all the info they can get.

2) Compare the Fruit

Perhaps the easiest way to expose the shakiness of false accusations is to note the shakiness of the accuser’s lifestyle.

This is by far my least favorite technique though since it appears to be an attack on character instead of the accusation itself. But understand that those two targets aren’t mutually exclusive.

A person who usually acts one way is almost certain to do it again.

And no, that fact isn’t judgmental. It’s simple probability.

This is going to sound like I’m bragging about my accomplishments and attacking her character, but let’s compare some notable points about my life and my accuser’s:

I improved to at least a 3.5 GPA in my last four college semesters within a STEM major. But I’ll admit my accuser was booksmart, so we’re pretty much even there.

I have never gotten blacked-out drunk (or even consumed alcohol). I have never taken an illegal substance. And I have never lived a promiscuous lifestyle. My accuser has done, and probably still does, all three.

I landed a stable job in my field more than a month before I graduated, and I’m still employed there today. My accuser barely held a job as a bar server about a year after graduating with the same degree.

Again, I don’t like expressing my achievements, and I never want to attack anyone’s character. We all make mistakes, and I made one of the biggest mistakes any student ever will (which she contributed to by the way).

But when someone’s lifestyle displays a clear pattern of incompetence, recklessness, and mental instability, the validity of their claims also takes a hit.

And that’s without mentioning that I’ve written the equivalent of a book here at HFE—a site where I cover my own shortcomings just as much, if not more than my accomplishments—on my own time and dollar because I believe it will help others.

So knowing all this, let me ask you, who do you think is telling the truth?

A tree’s fruit always gives it away.

Know who you are and know who you’re dealing with so any other lies are dismissed as the jokes they are.

3) Change “I” to “We”

The most unfortunate thing about false accusations is that no one’s waiting to hear a verdict.

As soon as those words leave your accuser’s mouth, you will be facing much more than one person.

Friends, family, social circles, even whole communities may turn against you.

And what began as a defense against one liar becomes a battle against an entire army.

So what do you do when this multitude of warriors stands against you?

It’s simple.

You gather the troops.

Find people who can vouch for your story. Get help from friends who aren’t blinded by the lies. Ask people who were neutral bystanders to explain what happened since they’re not biased.

I know I can get anyone from former classmates, friends, and family members to acknowledge the truth of my claims.

And since I know the mental issues my accuser deals with, I can also refer to a psychologist or another mental health resource.

An understanding of my accuser’s mind is one of the best counters to her claims. Yes, she acts in unstable ways, but they’re predictably unstable, and numerous people have experience with the problem I have now.

You shouldn’t be afraid to get professional help either.

Lawyer up if it’s serious enough.

Slander and libel are legit crimes. And if you can prove that your life is heavily impacted, especially financially, you may have a case.

So don’t go at this alone. You can bet your accuser isn’t.

4) Go One and Done

The biggest mistake people make when presenting any argument, defense, or reasoning is that they over-explain themselves.

Sure, you want to be as thorough as possible in your explanation, and you should reference points of that original argument to answer questions. But there’s no need to add to your stance or sate a mind that will never believe you.

If you’ve taken the necessary steps to present and defend the truth, you have to live with the results.

Learn to be comfortable with the fact that everyone won’t like, listen to, or believe you. Because the more you add to your original defense, the weaker it will appear.

You’ll also introduce more room for error. And it would be a shame for a memory lapse to cause an otherwise solid defense to fail.

Remember that it’s only your job to present the truth. Not to make others believe it.

I’m confident that my defense removes any ammo my accuser has left. So now the only claims she can bring against me are accusations of neglect—which don’t matter since I’m not her parent—or causing hurt feelings—which isn’t a crime in America yet.

I presented the truth one time, and now there’s no need to address her claims again.

Every accusation doesn’t deserve a response. So stay true to what really happened, and let people think what they want afterwards.

5) Don’t Even Fake It

These accusations have made me realize the importance of the Bible’s command to, “Abstain from all appearance of evil.” (1 Thessalonians 5:22 KJV)

It’s not enough to just avoid evil acts. You have to avoid situations where you could possibly do them too.

For instance, plenty articles on false accusations describe how to protect yourself against false rape claims. But if someone can accuse you of something like rape without an obvious fabrication, you are in over your head.

You can’t reach the point where a verdict is decided by a “yes” or “no.”

It’s one of the many reasons you shouldn’t sleep around in the first place. You are putting your life in the hands of someone who could easily change their mind in the morning. And you have to stay out of that gray area.

Remember to guard your character at all times. You never know when you’ll need to fall back on your integrity.

For example, I remember one conversation I had with a friend a few years back, and my accuser happened to be in the room.

My friend noticed that I received a few glances of interest from girls. So out of the blue he asked, “Drew, how many girls do you get?”

He chuckled while asking the question, so of course it wasn’t anything serious. He didn’t ask about anything explicitly sexual either.

So being the joker I am, I said something along the lines of, “I don’t know. I lost count.”

Then the both of us laughed it off.

But there’s a chance my accuser heard those words and immediately assumed the worst.

It would have been ridiculous to say something like:

“I’m sorry sir, but I am a Bible-believing man of God who has accepted the challenge to live righteously. How dare you imply that I live such a heinous lifestyle?!”

So I had a quick laugh and moved off the subject.

But even this could have added to her claims. So now I try not to even joke about stuff like that��at least not when I’m around people who barely know me.

You should do the same. But don’t limit your efforts to watching your tongue:

Always dress in a respectable manner.

Avoid the crazy nighttime venues—they’re magnets for people like my accuser.

And please don’t go to a hotel room belonging to a member of the opposite sex.

Presentation always matters.

Avoid the appearance of evil, and it’ll be impossible to even accuse you.

Grant Me That Chance

I’ve had enough headaches from my past relationship, and I’d rather not think about it anymore.

But it was important to defend myself here before any other false info leaked.

I hope none of it came across as too aggressive though. I wrote all of this to clear my name, not to get revenge.

From all I’ve seen, read, and now experienced, real victims don’t go out of their way to destroy their abuser’s life. They just want justice and a chance to finally move on.

So if anything else comes up about this, please remember this point and grant me that chance.

Contrary to what some people think, I don’t hate my accuser, and I hope she’s able to turn her life around.

If there was a normal version of her who didn’t have what she had, I’d love to meet her. But the ship has sailed on anything between me and the real her.

All I want now is peace and the freedom to live a good life. And I’m sure that’s all you want too.

So remember who you are, take a stand for the truth, and then defend it with your life.

And who knows? Someone else may come to your defense if you do.

-Drew

[sanguinesprout]

A fearsome brooding storm (some updates and blah)

So... it’s been a while, almost 10 months since my last entry, wow. That’s sounds like a really long time in words but in reality it went by like a flash. I didn’t forget about this blog and I’m not gonna abandon it though!

The reason for the long break, well, to be honest at first I just didn’t feel up to writing. I wasn’t feeling too bad mental-wise actually but I didn’t feel I had much to say that wasn’t already kinda said. Things went on unexpectedly steadily and I felt I was actually making some progress up until a few months ago with the world being thrown into disarray by the pandemic and more recently with my physical health suddenly taking a sharp turn for the worst (not related to the virus).

I don’t know what to say other than I’ve been and still am really scared right now. I know this sounds overdramatic, but I’ve been genuinely worried that I might die any day now. Whenever the symptoms get really bad my mind just spirals into all these anxious thoughts and worst conclusions. 

I feel so terrified and numb at the same time, I just really hope I’ll be okay in the end. I’ve been trying my best to not panic, reassuring and distracting myself when I can. I wish I had some more support from my family in that way too, but they don’t really know how to give that sort of thing I guess. I know they are concerned for me though, even though I feel like such a nuisance to them especially right now... I have to remind myself that becoming ill wasn’t my fault though, life just really sucks sometimes.

I have been desperately waiting for news of appointments for tests every day but there’s a really long waiting list, so who knows when I’ll hear from anyone. It's really saddening and depressing, there are so many people suffering and the pandemic has only made it so much harder for everyone to get help. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for those working non-stop to help others right now too. All illnesses suck! I wish they didn't exist so no one would have to suffer!

It’s difficult to be positive right now, but I have to try. Don’t worry yourself so much silly me, you’ll be fine! Like with every other difficult time, you’ll pull through and look back on it and maybe even laugh about it. Most things are never as bad as you expect them to be. You’re strong and have lots of nice things ahead of you to accomplish. Don’t give in to the dark thoughts and feelings! You’re gonna be okay!

Because of the illness and the pandemic situation, I decided to quit my job. I feel like maybe I took the bad and avoidant way out and cut it off instead of just being brave and prolonging it with a sick note and sick leave. The thing is though, I’m uncertain if and when I’ll get better and also with the pandemic situation, I want to protect my parents as much as possible and that means minimising exposure to other people. 

My parents were supportive of this decision, they worry a lot for me too (though I wish they’d worry about themselves more and take their own health more seriously!!). I hope I will be able to get another job in future and maybe even in some place I feel more passionate about, that would be nice.

Anyways, to get away from those dreary topics. In the time between the last post till now I’ve been trying to get back into drawing and actually managed to make some small simple pieces I actually felt proud of. It took me so much will power to do it though with all the anxiety and reluctance still overpowering my motivation to do just about anything, so that made it even more meaningful. A tiny step forward is still something!

I’ve also been poking my blogs around some more. I agonised over the small details far too much again, but I can say that I’ve finally got them sorted for real this time. It’s just the actual use of them that is a hurdle I still struggle to get over. I’ll get there though! I have much more determination this time. 

There were a few times I tried to comment on other people’s things elsewhere and that was super difficult and I may have deleted some of them but I tried at least. I just need to do things more to get used to them again. It’s just so hard to not let all those judgey thoughts about myself occupy my mind. C’mon me, you can get over it, you can do it!

The friend I occasionally message hasn’t written back for a long time. I worry that maybe they got tired of me and finally split, but they told me previously that they were very busy and were apologetic, it is probably even more so with the current state of the world. It’s rude of me to jump to conclusions, but even if they did ghost me, I wouldn’t really be offended or anything. A lot of times I felt like I wanted to get away myself. 

It feels really bad to say that and I know it’s mostly the avoidant in me talking, but sometimes friendships just fizzle out too and there’s no helping it. I wouldn’t want to drag anyone along and make them feel uncomfortable. I wonder if I should contact them again, because I am worried about them too, but I don’t want to disturb or put any unnecessary stress on them. I guess I’ll just wait for now until things become normal again at least.

I think for this blog, I’ll just write whenever I feel like it rather than trying to force myself to write it every month (which I already failed lol). I do have a lot of other things I want commit my time to now and if I do them, I’ll maybe end up with more stuff to write here too, so it’s still going to be work out fine!

I kept thinking whether there would be any point of me posting things, seeing as my situation right now is so uncertain, but that’s not optimistic of me at all. You only live once, so you should try your best and do the things you want to do no matter what! 

I think I’ll stop here now. But maybe a little more last second pep talk first before I sign off! Things may be tough but you’ve got this! You are way stronger than you think and can overcome all the difficulties you may be facing! Every little step amounts towards big progress! The best time to do the things you want to do is right now! Don’t let your fears control your happiness and desires! You can do it!

Until next time (hopefully)! Take care and don’t give up! ^^

[imeeeean]

for fucks sake

i didn’t really want to get into this here because a variety of reasons but for god’s fucking sake here we fucking GO.

i was recently in a situationship. i say situationship, because even though this person literally FLEW HERE to see me and tried to DTR with me the second day, LITERALLY SECOND DAY of being with me in person (to be fair, i have known this person for 10 years - not well, but on the periph of things and it was like magical and fun and exciting and passionate and really truly fantastic), the fucking THE NEXT DAY got weird when i was like oh shit like i think i am into this i am not going to date anyone else right now, he literally said, and i shit you not “oh do i have to say that too? i need to tie some things up.” he said things like i have made him feel things that he hasn’t felt in years, “i want to do all of the disney things with you” (WHICH GOD EW CRINGE IS A HUGE RED FLAG), screen shots of texts to his mom about me after four days which made me lose my mind, basically said he was in love with me four different times. like had the most fun two days together, SO FUN. the night before he leaves is this DTR. so it wasn’t ever actually officially anything because any time i tried to be like yeah so can we just define this? i need to put it in a container in my mind now, i need to file this in the appropriate category in my life. he would be so fucking weird about it and say the worst things possible in that kind of scenario but in the same breath would ask me things about the future “what we will do when x happens” “what we will do when y happens” “can you fly to meet my family?”. i flat out said that i never want to get married again. he asks, really? 100%? i say well, i mean, like 99% no. and he says, verbatim “i’m gonna need you to hold onto the 1%.” and i looked at him and said “uhhh i’m going to need you to hold on to the 99%.” HE TOLD ME TO KEEP THE IDEA OF MARRIAGE OPEN FOR HIM BUT COULD NOT COMMIT TO NOT BEING A FUCKING ASSHOLE FOR LIKE EVEN MORE THAN 14 DAYS. my two-week trial of that bitch was OVER.

anyway. this person fucking BODIES THEIR WAY INTO MY LIFE, and I am on the heels of - no, in the midst of - the shittiest year of my time here on this earth. he was full and fucking well aware of that. i was/am flat out petrified of most things emotionally at this point, and completely tapped out. i made it clear that i am not doing well mentally, this is for sure a fun distraction, but i am not okay. i just wanted it to be a fun thing. just fun! that’s all i wanted. but then i was pushed. a letter was left. conversations about the future were had. conversations with FAMILY members were had - i refused to do any chats with immediate family, but still, outskirts family. when i finally, finally, FINALLY, relax into it and take a breath instead of trying to panic and bail, he then pulls the FUCK BACK. like, hard. when i call him on it? gaslighting and bullshit. i am super straight up about everything, it’s me, i’ve got nothing to hide and also, no fucking time or energy to waste. i basically bare my entire heart to this jackass and am so vulnerable and am hung out to dry when there was no care and handling and just straight up no response in regards to any of it.

i am scheduled to get my BODY CUT OPEN aka surgery (which gets rescheduled, but he doesn’t know that, because he fucking ghosts me after my heart cracked open a bit trying to carefully and clearly express how i’ve been hurt by the ongoing bullshit) and he doesn’t check on me ONCE. not before, not during, not after. i could have fucking died and he’d have no idea. 

he comes back around the next week and like a fucking DUMBASS i agree to take another stab at this bullshit after literally saying “what is it that you want from me here?!” 

i am basically ghosted for another week and find out he took another woman on a trip to charleston for her birthday during that week instead of literally doing anything else. anything else - i don’t know, investing in this? pursuing me? doing his job that he said he does from the moment he wakes up til the moment he goes to sleep? literally? anything? else? i also found out? that he had been? dating her the entire time? or? if he wasn’t? leading her on? for months and months? that is disgusting? and emotionally predatory? don’t you think? thanks venmo, you are a weird fucking source of information that i didn’t even mean to get when i was wiping the slate super clean.

i had finally, FINALLY gotten over it in the last couple of days and made the grave error this evening of snooping on social media, which i have been SO FUCKING STRONG about not doing - blocked on everything, deleted shit, tore up shit, real good. he posted fucking white squares and quotes from, i shit you not, winnie the pooh and peter pan, two days i called and said he can fuck off with his lying ass bullshit. 

TLDR: dude said he wanted me, like WAS KIND OF IN LOVE WITH ME, came here to prove it, convinced me to be in it, pulled back and ghosted me, came back, ghosted me again but this time with another woman.

BUT CAN QUOTE PETER PAN AND WINNIE THE POOH LIKE HE NEEDS HOPE AND LIGHT TO REBUILD ON THE BACK OF THE WIND OR WHATEVER THE FUCK.

peter pan and winnie the pooh.  he turns 39 next week.

FUCK. OFF.

the ONLY thing that i feel embarrassed about (besides the obvious of trusting this asshole and believing even ONE goddamned word out of his mouth) is instamessage was like a thing for us - like a real thing, it feels like 12 to say it but it was a THING so what the FUCK EVER. but the second that it would start to be weird with him, instagram would suddenly stop showing his activity status. i was like oh my fucking god this dumb ass bitch is literally turning that off what in the actual hell how petty is this fucking shit. i mentioned it not once, but twice (goddamnit). i had no idea that the ACTUAL case is that instagram has a limit as to who’s activity you can see in your inbox. once you hit 25 or 30 messages from other people and get bumped down the line, your shit disappears. SO THAT MEANS THAT LITERALLY 25-30 PEOPLE WERE TALKING TO ME MORE THAN HE WAS AT ANY GIVEN POINT IN TIME AND I JUST HONESTLY AND TRULY CANNOT JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. that’s totally the way you treat someone that is making you feel things that you haven’t felt in years, right? someone that you told your mother about? someone that you asked to hang onto the idea of marriage? LUNACY! i should have just taken the hint and trusted my gut and bounced the fuck out as soon as shit got weird and annoying. but no, i tried to hang in, i tried to convince myself it was all in my head, girrrrrl i tried. my insides were right. “ill just have to prove you both wrong” MY WHOLE ASS.

MEN ARE FUCKING CLOWNS

[gibsongirlselections]

Remember the Red Guards Before You Cheer the Woke Mobs

I’m ambivalent about statues and J.K. Rowling being torn down, but terrified of the thought process behind the destruction. Decisions should never be made by mobs. 

Is America on the edge of a cultural revolution?

The historical namesake and obvious parallel is the Cultural Revolution in China, which lasted from 1966 to 1976. Its stated goal was to purge capitalist and traditional elements from society, and to substitute a new way of thinking based on Mao’s own beliefs. The epic struggle for control and power waged war against anybody on the wrong side of an idea.

To set the mobs on somebody, one needed only to tie him to an official blacklist like the Four Olds (old customs, culture, habits, and ideas). China’s young people and urban workers formed Red Guard units to go after whomever was outed. Violence? Yes, please. When Mao launched the movement in May 1966, he told his mobs to “bombard the headquarters” and made clear that “to rebel is justified.” He said “revisionists should be removed through violent class struggle.” The old thinkers were everywhere and were systematically trying to preserve their power and subjugate the people.

Whetted, the mobs took the task to heart: Red Guards destroyed historical relics, statues, and artifacts, and ransacked cultural and religious sites. Libraries were burned. Religion was considered a tool of capitalists and so churches were destroyed—even the Temple of Confucius was wrecked. Eventually the Red Guards moved on to openly killing people who did not think as they did. Where were the police? The cops were told not to intervene in Red Guard activities, and if they did, the national police chief pardoned the Guards for any crimes.

Education was singled out, as it was the way the old values were preserved and transmitted. Teachers, particularly those at universities, were considered the “Stinking Old Ninth” and were widely persecuted. The lucky ones just suffered the public humiliation of shaved heads, while others were tortured. Many were slaughtered or harassed into suicide. Schools and universities eventually closed down and over 10 million former students were sent to the countryside to labor under the Down to the Countryside Movement. A lost generation was abandoned to fester, uneducated. Red Guard pogroms eventually came to include the cannibalization of revisionists. After all, as Mao said, a revolution is not a dinner party.

The Cultural Revolution destroyed China’s economy and traditional culture, leaving behind a possible death toll ranging from one to 20 million. Nobody really knows. It was a war on the way people think. And it failed. One immediate consequence of the Revolution’s failure was the rise in power of the military after regular people decided they’d had enough and wanted order restored. China then became even more of a capitalist society than it had ever imagined in pre-Revolution days. Oh well.

I spoke with an elderly Chinese academic who had been forced from her classroom and made to sleep outside with the animals during the Revolution. She recalled forced self-criticism sessions that required her to guess at her crimes, as she’d done nothing more than teach literature, a kind of systematic revisionism in that it espoused beliefs her tormentors thought contributed to the rotten society. She also had to write out long apologies for being who she was. She was personally held responsible for 4,000 years of oppression of the masses. Our meeting was last year, before white guilt became a whole category on Netflix, but I wonder if she’d see now how similar it all is.

That’s probably a longer version of events than a column like this would usually feature. A tragedy on the scale of the Holocaust in terms of human lives, an attempt to destroy culture on a level that would embarrass the Taliban—this topic is not widely taught in American colleges, never mind in China.

It should be taught, because history rhymes. Chinese students are again outing teachers, sometimes via cellphone videos, for “improper speech,” teaching hurtful things from the past using the wrong vocabulary. Other Chinese intellectuals are harassed online for holding outlier positions, or lose their jobs for teaching novels with the wrong values. Once abhorred as anti-free speech, most UC Berkeley students would likely now agree that such steps are proper. In Minnesota, To Kill A Mockingbird and Huckleberry Finn are banned because fictional characters use a racial slur.

There are no statues to the Cultural Revolution here or in China. Nobody builds monuments to chaos. But it’s never really about the statues anyway. In America, we moved quickly from demands to tear down the statues of Robert E. Lee to Thomas Jefferson to basically any Caucasian, including “White Jesus.“

Of course, it was never going to stop with Confederate generals because it was not really about racism any more than the Cultural Revolution was really about capitalism. This is about rewriting history for political ends, both short-term power grabs (Not Trump 2020!) and longer term societal changes that one critic calls the “successor ideology,” the melange of academic radicalism now seeking hegemony throughout American institutions. Douglas Murray is more succinct. The purpose “is to embed a new metaphysics into our societies: a new religion.” The ideas—centered on there being only one accepted way of thought—are a tool of control.

It remains to be seen where America goes next in its own nascent cultural revolution. Like slow dancing in eighth grade, maybe nothing will come of it. These early stages, where the victims are Uncle Ben, Aunt Jemima, someone losing her temper while walking a dog in Central Park, and canceled celebrities, are a far cry from the millions murdered for the same goals in China. Much of what appears revolutionary is just Internet pranking and common looting amplified by an agendaized media. One writer sees “cancel culture as a game, the point of which is to impose unemployment on people as a form of recreation.” B-list celebs and Karens in the parking lot are easy enough targets. Ask the Red Guards: it’s fun to break things.

Still, the intellectual roots of our revolution and China’s seem similar: the hate of the old, the need for unacceptable ideas to be disappeared in the name of social progress, intolerance toward dissent, violence to enforce conformity. 

In America these are spreading outward from our universities so that everywhere today—movies, TV, publishing, news, ads, sports—is an Oberlin where in the name of free speech “hate speech” is banned, and in the name of safety dangerous ideas and the people who hold them are not only not discussed but canceled, shot down via the projectile of the heckler’s veto, unfriended, demonetized, deleted, de-platformed, demeaned, chased after by mobs both real and online in a horrible blend of self-righteousness and cyber bullying. They don’t believe in a marketplace of ideas. Ideas to the mob are either right or wrong and the “wrong” ones must be banished. The choices to survive the mobs are conformity or silence. In China, you showed conformity by carrying around Mao’s Little Red Book. In America, you wear a soiled surgical mask to the supermarket.

The philosophical spadework for an American Cultural Revolution is done. Switch the terms capitalism and revisionism with racism and white supremacy in some of Mao’s speeches and you have a decent speech draft for a Black Lives Matter rally. Actually, you can keep Mao’s references to destroying capitalism, as they track pretty closely with progressive thought in 2020 America.

History is not there to make anyone feel safe or justify current theories about policing. History exists so we can learn from it, and for us to learn from it, it has to exist for us to study it, to be offended and uncomfortable with it, to bathe in it, to taste it bitter or sweet. When you wash your hands of an idea, you lose all the other ideas that grew to challenge it. Think of those as antibodies fighting a disease. What happens when they are no longer at the ready? What happens when a body forgets how to fight an illness? What happens when a society forgets how to challenge a bad idea with a better one?

Peter Van Buren, a 24-year State Department veteran, is the author of We Meant Well: How I Helped Lose the Battle for the Hearts and Minds of the Iraqi People, Hooper’s War: A Novel of WWII Japan, and Ghosts of Tom Joad: A Story of the #99 Percent.

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