#st judes mental hospital

[dust-of-embers]

PHOTOS OF ST JUDES (Gartloch hospital)

I am too tired for commentary… a lot of it is still under construction tho

[dust-of-embers]

IT HAS BEEN FURBISHED, IDK HOW TO MAKE IT PUBLIC JUST YET SO I'LL PUT THE LINK HERE: https://discord.gg/ys5b8sK5

I'LL WORK OUT HOW TO MAKE IT PUBLIC TOMORROW, MY BODY IS GOING LIMP AND IDK WHY

@princeloww @crowleys-dark-sunglasses @dil3mma @melted-bone-tea @jaykinarts you all said you'd like to join, so i'm @ing you just in case

We need a tota group chat where we all just talk about tota and rave about it together, I kinda wanna make one but idk if anyone would actually want to do that

[valiantverses]

Tremors

Ghoap X Reader

Summary: A therapist's waiting room wasn't exactly the place to have the most engrossing conversations. People were usually jittery, tense, or straight-up despondent. Somehow, you manage to strike a strange sort of connection with the retired military couple that had the Thursday slot just after you anyway.

Trigger Warning: Angsty. Discussions of Soap's injuries, the reader has mental health struggles and everyone has communication difficulties to some degree.

A/N: Comments, questions, requests and constructive criticisms are welcome. Hate is boring and will go unacknowledged.

_

Maybe therapy wasn't for you.

Baring your soul to a total stranger and unearthing your life to be scrutinised by somebody. Then having that somebody turn around and drop you as a client because you were 'beyond their scope' and recommending you to someone else. It left an acrid sort of burn at the back of your throat as you settled into the sofa in the cheery waiting room of your hastily found counsellor.

Tick.

The leather underneath your fingers was squeaky. Static-y. The kind of leather where the grooves of the well-worn parts of the couch were buttery smooth and a slightly darker shade of black until it reached the bits that weren't quite as worn.

Tock.

The sound of papers shuffling and a low voice calling out a name drew your attention. It wasn't yours. Wordlessly, you watched a woman to your left stand up. The rubber of her cane cracked across the linoleum as she she signed her name on to the clip board at the desk, murmured her greetings to the therapist and made her way inside, the door shutting with a soft click.

Tick.

St. Jude-Thaddeus Hospital's Rehabilitation and Pain Management Clinic had the honour of being the only facility of any sort in your area that offered psycotherapy services. Affordable ones, anyway. Something to do with being integrated into the Ministry of Defense Hospital Units for disabled veterans- but you didn't need to know, so you didn't ask.

You'd take what you could get.

Tock.

You glance up at the clock once more, seeing that you were now close to 10 minutes to your first ever appointment with this therapist. A part of you wanted to fast forward the next 40 minutes of your day. Maybe the next few hours. Get to the point where your obligations were done and the first meeting was over and done with.

Tick.

When the door opens next, you don't look up this time. You try to contain the shake of your hands and focus on that squeaky leather underneath you. The thumps of footsteps don't register before the slight sink of the couch does. When you glance up, it is to the bluest eyes you could imagine.

He was handsome, a part of your brain helpfully informed you. Dark eyelashes framing a sort of azure blue, shards of indigo flecked about like sleet in the rain. His tanned skin had that slight leatheriness that could only come from working under the sun, the hand jutted out towards you littered with callouses-

"-hnny MacTavish, haven't seen you round here before."

Your hand moves mechanically to accept his handshake, mouth producing syllables you knew was supposed to be your name.

Realising the beat of conversation had stretched on longer than it should and it was now your turn to fulfill your part of the social contract that the stranger had looped you into, you broke eye contact and glanced back down at the worn linoleum.

"It's my first time."

There was a snort to the other side of you, from a bulky man sat diagonally from the line of chairs you and Johnny were sat in.

You quickly ammend your statement "-with this therapist. Just moved in."

His bulk seemed to carve away the space of the room, hulking shoulders leading to a thickly corded neck, lower face covered in a black face mask and his eyes a thin ring of deep ocean blue. What little skin you could see of his face looked sallow. Drained.

"Ignore tha' git. Insists on tagging along with me like I'm a wee wain and wreaks havoc of all sorts." The voice from your left supplied as you quickly began reassessing the relationship between the two strangers you found yourself in the middle of.

"You two know each other?"

There was a rumble to your left, a deep bass-y sound you realised was laughter. "Could say that, ma'am. "

"My partner," Johnny supplied, eyeroll evident in his voice as you turned to look at him once more. It was a little overwhelming having to keep turning your head to and fro because of the way the chairs were positioned, and your fingers dug into the leather once more.

Slippery, smooth. Pebbled with some long indentations.

"That's Simon. We've been at this shrink for give or take four months now-"

"Fifteen weeks."

"*-would'a noticed a bonnie lass like you on our weekly, enlightening visits." His quip was cheery, but there was an element of sarcasm you couldn't quite place.

This conversation felt like navigating a field full of landmines. Couldn't ask about his condition, why the weekly visits rather than the gold standard (That is, the national healthcare coverage) of every two weeks, why fifteen weeks- so you asked the only thing you felt you could.

"She any good? The counselor, I mean."

Johnny blinked, head tilting and making eye contact with his partner - Simon - there was a flash of something twisting across his face as the wordless conversation happened in a split second.

It was fascinating. The sort of communication that only happened when two people had an intimate well of knowledge of the other person.

Then dawn broke across Johnny's face and he turned back to you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Aye, lass. Not afraid to crack into your brain and really dig around. Well good laugh too, great to interact with given I've really only spoken to four people or so since I retired an' all."

You tried not to read between the lines. Tried not to stare at the way he leaned back to rub at the jagged line across his scalp, the puckered edges evident under the peach fuzz of dark hair. He was giving you what he could without dragging a stranger into his own vortex of struggles. You could relate.

"Retired? From military service?"

Regret looked different on people's faces. For some, there was a grimace. Maybe a slight widening of the eyes in realisation, or a hitch in their breath. Self-reproach for bringing it up in the first place. For Johnny, it appeared to be a slight furrowing of his brows and a darkening of his sky blue eyes as he edged backwards.

A cough and the scraping of the chair behind you drew your attention, looking to your right to meet the cold stare of the blond. Briefly, you felt like a cornered animal. Your hands grew still. His gaze was assessing, stony face giving nothing away except the overwhelming vibe of back the fuck off. His eyes flicked over your shoulder and then back to yours.

"Sounds like they're finishing up in there. You should sign in."

It appeared you had clambered out of the field of land mines only to immediately fall into a sinkhole.

Stuttering your goodbyes, you make to stand up, making the same trek the young lady had towards the desk. You fought to control the tremors of your hands. One stayed tucked deeply in a pocket as the other wrote your name down through sheer muscle memory. Sure enough, the door opened and the woman walked out with her mobility aid, a cheery voice calling out your name from inside.

As your shaky palm took hold of the doorknob to twist it so you could enter the room, you caught snippets of the conversation happening behind you.

"Bothering you-"

"-Ost, It would have been fine-"

"Your hands were shaking again-"

"Ach- I had it under control!"

"You don't owe strangers anything. Not after everything you've-"

"Please- I just- I need to have a feckin' conversation about it without breaking down-"

The door shut with a click.

As you sat down in front of your new therapist, you resolved to try and move your appointments to a different day.

[princeloww]

st judes mental hospital (gartloch hospital, glasgow, 1896-1996)

some photos of where takin over the asylum was filmed :) the documentary is up on my youtube channel still if anyone's interested in learning more about it. and you can read some personal stories from people involved with the hospital (nurses and patients, ranging from very positive to very negative) on the hidden glasgow webite (where I got most of my info and the timeline when I made my first post about the hospital).

[sabertoothdeer]

I don't usually rant about my interests on this blog but i desperately need to talk with people about Takin' Over The Asylum. Please, fans of this show, I need to speak with you. I need to talk about Francine and Rosalie and Fergus and Eddie and Campbell. I need to talk about mental health throughout history. I need to talk about Hospital Radio St. Jude's and the Loonies PLEASE

[girlactionfigure]

Back in the 50s, Danny Thomas was a major TV star who had a successful comedy series on national television (CBS) called ‘Make Room for Daddy’ (Later changed to ‘The Danny Thomas Show’). The son of Maronite immigrants from Lebanon, read that a young medical student, the son of Chassidic immigrants from Ukraine, was struggling to pay his tuition, and donated the shortfall. As a result, countless lives were saved and made better by Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski.

Rabbi Twerski described the story in an interview with the Pittsburgh Quarterly on November 19, 2007:

“By that time, I had several children, so my dad and some members of the congregation helped me to pay for school. I applied for a scholarship through a foundation, but it didn’t come through, so in my third year, I fell two trimesters behind on tuition.

One day, I called my wife at lunch as always, and she asked, “What would you do if you had $4,000?” I said, “I’m too busy to talk about fantasies.” She said, “But you really do have $4,000!” I said, “From where?” She said, “From Danny Thomas.” “Who’s Danny Thomas?” She said, “The TV star.”

Then she read me an article from The Chicago Sun. Local officials had told Mr. Thomas about a young rabbi who was struggling to get through medical school. Thomas asked, “How much does your rabbi need?” They said, “Four thousand dollars.” He said, “Tell your rabbi he’s got it.”

Rabbi Twerski was a scholar with feet planted firmly in two worlds — the rabbinic world of Torah and Talmud study, and a medical doctor and licensed psychiatrist. It was a rare pairing that earned him respect in both the insular ultra-Orthodox Jewish world and wider American society. He was an expert on addiction and scion of a long line of prominent rabbis descended from the 18th-century founder of Hassidic Judaism, the Baal Shem Tov.

Rabbi Twerski was a prolific writer. He authored dozens of books on a wide array of subjects: from addiction and mental health to religious law for medical professionals and commentaries on Jewish texts. Twerski also collaborated with late “Peanuts” comic strip creator Charles Schulz on a series of popular self-help books featuring Charlie Brown and Snoopy.

May his memory be for a blessing.

Rabbi Yisroel Bernath

Danny Thomas was also the founder of St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital.

[canisalbus]

Got a few questions about Machete and Vasco!

- favorite saints & why?

- do they enjoy their respective jobs? Why or why not?

- If you could think of one word to represent each of them, what would it be?

Thank you o/! I love the incredible world you've built :)

They both have a special fondness for St Sebastian due to shared memories.

Machete: St Jude (patron saint of lost causes, desperate situations, hope, hospitals)

Vasco: Archangel Raphael (travelers, youth, healing, lovers, happy meetings and finding one’s spouse)

Machete is a careerist and a workaholic. He enjoys the challenge and the sense of accomplishment and importance he gets out of his job as the secretary of state, even if it gets tiring and frustrating and he doesn't get along with his co-workers very well. His work is mostly administrative so you're very unlikely to meet him doing a lot of common priestly things, like conducting a Mass for example, and when he does he handles it in a very unremarkable, pokerfaced and by the book manner. Having to switch to inquisition duty really erodes away his mental wellbeing and ends up bringing out the worst in him.

Vasco has a lot more leisurely approach on work. He's a politician and a diplomat and a fairly succesful one at that, but he's not very interested in shouldering a lot of responsibility or being one of the key players in his circles. I think he has a lot of the qualities of a natural leader but little ambition to match it. I guess there could've been at least some nepotism at play and he might've initially gotten his position though family connections, but he's still genuinely competent and earnestly wants to do good job and serve his people well.

Machete: fragile

Vasco: luminous

[xdivinedecay]

✧ Patron Saints for the New Year

In your prayers for New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, American Catholics and Christians might like to consider invoking the intercession of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, who among other attributions is regarded as the Patron Saint of New Beginnings. This is usually credited to her being the first (United States) American-born Catholic that was canonized by the Roman Catholic Church. (Not to be confused with the first Indigenous American canonized saint, St. Kateri Tekakwitha.) St. Elizabeth was a pioneer of girls' education in early America, opening the first free school for girls in Baltimore, Maryland in 1808. Next, she started the Sisters of Charity, the first religious order for women, in 1809. Following on, she continued to open hospitals, orphanages, and even more schools.

While researching patron saints for new beginnings, I discovered an article about St. Lazarus Devasahayam, a Hindu-born man who converted to Christianity in the 18th century, and the first Indian layperson to be canonized as a saint (in 2022). He might be someone to consider looking into if his life and history sound appealing to you, I found an article about him through Vatican News.

And to recognize the new Jubilee Year of Hope from December 2024 until January 2026, I would be remiss not to mention St. Jude Thaddeus, one of the apostles as well as the Patron Saint of Hope (and Desperate Causes). Given the social and political climates occurring all over the world, he is a great resource for comfort, strength, and hope. Additionally, his mother was a cousin to the Mother Mary, meaning he shared a blood-tie to the human Jesus. According to Catholic.org, "Roman Catholics invoke St. Jude when in desperate situations because his New Testament letter stresses that the faithful should persevere in the environment of harsh, difficult circumstances -just as their forefathers had done before them; therefore, he is the patron saint of desperate cases."

Of course, remember to connect with the Holy Spirit, to Jesus, and to the rest of your patrons during this time!

I hope you all have a happy and safe new year holiday, and that we find strength, courage, and love for one another in 2025.

More lists of patron saints — Patron Saints for your Problems • Patron Saints for World Mental Health Day • Patron Saints for US Election Aftermath

Image edits by xdivinedecay • cross dividers by animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[yourfavouritefighter]

OKAY SO IM KINDA NOT IN W GREAT MOOD RN SO IM GONNA RANT ABOUT THE JEKYLL AND HYDE MUSICAL since none of my irl pals are gonna listen you guys have to

SO POINT ONE

-the whole plot hinges around the core idea that Henry himself is a man with good intentions who goes too far, and that he was warned to stop but he doesn’t and his own hubris and desire to have scientific recognition pushes him to extremes, and in turn-his and many other’s deaths.

—> that’s bullshit however, considering in the 1997 musical sound track (the most recent one i can get my hands on) there are more songs convincing Henry that he should carry on than their are dissuading him (considering they cut board of governors). allow me to list examples and why it’s stupid that he’s a man who was dissuaded but chose to walk a danger game path anyways.

—> firstly, his best friend Gabriel John Utterson, deeply trusted and level headed with a good moral compass “Henry you have come too far, remember what you have a stake” and “you’ve got to see it through” both stated in a song called “pursue the truth”. this song is heavily pivotal as it inspires Henry to continue when he wouldn’t have otherwise due to pressure from the board of governors of st jude’s hospital. In this song he was not told that going forward would be dangerous, John likely knew exactly what Henry was doing but wholeheartedly encouraged him, Henry trusted his judgement. He was not dissuaded.

—>Emma and Lisa, for the sake of coherency I’ll be referring to her as Emma as i’ll be using the newer soundtrack for this discussion. His wife to be, who he’s supposedly madly in live with; spends all of “i must go on” encouraging his pursuit of science, encouraging him to carry on his work. In lines like “when this all began, we knew there’d be a price to pay”, “too late to turn away”, reinforcing the idea in Henry’s mind that this is the best way forward- who cares about stuffy governors when those dear and near to him have expressed clear support of his work.

—>You could hypothetically argue that neither John nor Emma truly knew the extent to which Henry was going with his experiments, not truly understanding what he wanted to or was trying to achieve. However, if that was the intention the writers should’ve made that more overt considering later in the play they heavily emphasise the theme and idea that Henry has, quote “gone too far”, a phrase repeatedly used. Instead they lead the audience also view this as an honourable goal, due to the growing support of Henry and the audiences like of the characters at this point in the play.

Through the removal of Lanyon, the central conflict and core flaw of Henry Jekyll as a character has been removed, if he has no close friend to strongly and brutally disagree with him, it was no long *his* flaw that he carried on, it was no longer his fault, as the blame could be feasibly shared between him and those who encouraged him, shifting the play and narrative from a criticism of society in that extremism whether it be for or against change leads to a poor outcome, to being a story about how a well intentioned yet flawed scientist was misguided by his passion and loved ones, and payed the price.

-(next point because i’ve argued long enough about that.) was Henry Jekyll really as well intentioned as the play attempts to convey?

—>(Short answer, no. Long answer, potentially). Henry’s morality is heavily debatable, with it being dependant on the rendition of the play you watched, for the sake of the cohesion of the argument i’m going to be basing this entirely off of what i’ve seen of the 1997 and the 1995 plays.

—> firstly let’s discuss what the writers intended, or at least my perspective on what they were aiming to convey. within the opening scenes, we are greeted with Henry and his unnamed(?) father who is stuck in a mental asylum for reasons we as an audience are not privy to, Henry sings “lost in the darkness” a song establishing his motivations and goals as a character. I believe that the intention here was to give the viewer the impression that Henry as a character and person is moral and good, becoming misguided in his efforts to achieve his goals and save his father, eventually sacrificing himself for the sake of the safety of society, once the monster of his own well intentioned creation consumes him. So as a character it could be argued that he is moral. However i what the writers intended and what they conveyed are hugely different.

—> Due to the placement of Henry’s motivation being at the beginning of the play, the intention was likely to hook the audience into liking him as a character, forcing them to see how well intentioned he is before exploring his flaws and then eventually having him sacrifice himself to show his respectable morality as a character. However, by closely following this with “board of governors” (and the 1997 equivalent assumedly) we are hit with the whiplash of what was presented as a good person, and the man who argues with the board. Due to how bitter and cruelly he acts in a futile attempt to gain funding(?) and support for his project, the audience may rightfully assume that his kindness was a facade (especially since facades and the duality of man are central themes) and that Henry’s true colours are shown within this situation. If the writers truly intended to establish his perfect morality, they should have had Henry visit his father, and “lost in the darkness” take place after Henry is refused by the governors, so that his rage and refusal to take no for an answer is a shown to be a result of his stress and care for his father- not his questionable morality. This is because the audience will retain things that happen later in the play best, using them to form their impressions, so by shifting the placement of this scene it shifts the presentation of the character as a whole. But that is not what we are here to discuss.

—> Henry and Lucy. Another instance of Henry’s good morality working against him, as despite entering with the intention to find a test subject- he leaves having given Lucy his business card(?) and offering her support due to her situation. This eventually leads to her death, but it is another instance of his good morality, there were no strings attached to this aid, as Henry was a soon to be married man, and there is no implications that he finds her attractive (if you are to follow the play’s implications that Jekyll and Hyde are truly separate beings). So clearly you could argue that his morality is good, right?

—> Hyde. From a scientific standpoint, matter cannot be created or destroyed, going from that perspective, Hyde’s intentions cannot have just appeared-they had to be fuelled by Jekyll’s innermost desires and thoughts, especially since Hyde goes after those who have wronged Henry during “murder murder”. So the murderous impulses, the sketchy behaviour and outright illegal behaviour towards Lucy came from Jekyll. However this doesn’t make Henry an immoral character.

—> Humour me for a moment while i discuss the concept of the id. So freud (yes that freud) had a theory that stated that humans were comprised of three parts that all worked together, the id the ego and the super ego. The id was your animalistic urges and desires, your superego is societal expectations for the most part, acting as your selflessness. With the ego balancing the two; preventing you from donating all of your money to charity and putting you on the streets, and preventing you from going on a murder spree, killing the upper class. Within the original novel, Hyde is implied to be without the ego or superego, merely the embodiment of Jekyll’s id. So now comes the debate, is a person immoral for having immoral desires, if unacted upon?

—>Therein lies the conflict, as whether or not immoral desires mean an immoral person or character. Personally i believe no, the average person will have immoral thoughts from time to time, the true evil comes from how such desires are dealt with. So while Hyde is evil, despite being based upon Jekyll, you cannot state that that makes Henry evil in turn. Paired with the potential that Hyde is a twisted version of Jekyll’s own desires (for example Henry wants revenge against the governors-Hyde interprets that as murder, whilst Jekyll implies showing them that he was right).

anyways this has got way too long so rip, mb if this is incoherent i woke up and was like ‘jekyll and hyde musicals really sucked at doing plot and character development…welp time to rant’

please correct me in the comments if i’m misremembering shit i’m stupid so it’s a possibility

[aggsh-shs]

you asked for fic requests do those go here?

anyway, can i request campbell bain x g/n or male reader where reader has a panic attack and campbell helps.

OR one where reader is just sitting around while campbell does a show. chill stuff y’know

those might be awful ideas feel free to ignore this if you want

sorry i’ve never done this before hope these are ok requests

HI THIS IS PERFECT!!

I WROTE THIS FIC TODAY WHILE I WAS IN THE CAR/AT AN AMUSEMENT PARK SO IM SORRY IF IT SUCKS

CAMPBELL BAIN X MALE READER (PANIC ATTACK COMFORT)

cw: panic attacks (obvi)

reader gender: male (he/him)

Room 306 in St. Jude’s mental hospital was assigned to two boys, you, and your boyfriend. He was bipolar while you had generalized anxiety disorder. This led to regular panic attacks when unmedicated

Aforementioned boyfriend, Campbell Bain sat next to you, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders.

He was chatting away, some story about Eddie that you couldn’t hear through the pure adrenaline coursing through your body.

Every breath seemed to come and leave without making it any easier to focus. You’d had a rough day, too many loud sounds and people. They’d lowered your meds recently, which meant it took less to make you anxious.

This was definitely a panic attack.

Campbell’s voice faded out, without you noticing, and his hand transitioned from just holding you to rubbing your back.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle, and you turned from staring dead ahead to do your best to focus on him, “you ok? You’re shaking..”

You swallowed thickly, breathing starting to pick up in pace. It felt like someone was choking you. A few tears rolled down your cheeks, and Campbell immediately moved to wipe them away.

He had this soft look of concern written across his face.

“Woah, you’re ok,” He pulled you close, and even in your nonverbal state you managed to pull together enough sense to bury your head in Campbells chest, “You’re safe. I’m right here.”

He moved you to sit on his lap, leaning up against the headboard of the bed you were sitting on. Campbell slowed his breathing, hoping that you’d follow his example.

You drew in gasps of air, trying desperately not to suffocate. Everything was too much. The lights of the hospital felt blinding, and all the overlapping sounds of talking and air conditioning hums and nurses and music and-

Campbells palms came to rest over your ears, and you reached up your own trembling hands to cover his.

In all honesty he was scared they’d sedate you. He hadn’t seen you have a panic attack this bad in a long time. You shook in his arms, letting out a choked cry as you finally managed to pull in a full breath.

“There we go, that’s my boy,” Campbell brushed his fingers through your hair, mumbling soft words of praise to help you calm down, “You’re safe, i’m right here with you.”

You let out a pathetic whine in response, signaling to Campbell that you were conscious enough to hear him. You felt less like you were being choked now, and it was easier to breathe.

“good boy,” You could feel his heartbeat through his tear stained t-shirt, and you weren’t sure how long it had been since this started but you were glad he stayed, “just keep breathing. Nice deep breaths.”

It took a few more agonizing minutes for you to finally come back all the way, and while you were still a bit shaky, it wasn’t as bad as before.

Campbell watched from your shared bed as you pulled away and stood up, pacing with a hand pressed to your chest to try and calm down fully.

It felt too cramped in his arms. You stumbled every other step, but it was nice to keep moving.

after a minute or two you came back to bed, face red and blotchy but no longer crying.

“You feeling better?” He asked as you sat back down, smiling when he was met with a nod in response.

“Mostly.” You never felt too inclined to speak after panic attacks. It all just felt like too much.

“Good,” Campbell reached out for your hand, squeezing it three times before kissing your forehead, “Can’t have my boy out of commission, we still got a show to do.”

You laughed quietly, more a breath out than an actual sound. The positivity in Campbells voice was infectious.

You curled up in Campbells lap, head laying on his thigh while he stroked your hair.

He didn’t mind staying there while you slept. He’d wake you up when it was time, for now he’d let you rest.

[angeltreasure]

Hello :)

Do you have any tips on where I can donate stuff to? I see you talk about donating and helping the needy sometimes (something I keep wanting to do more of) I feel bad cuz I haven’t been too involved recently :/

I really want to help out or give stuff to people who need it more

Good Afternoon!

Don’t worry, it’s never too late to donate. I got you covered! A good place to start is your own diocese webpage!

Other examples:

- your own family members in need

- your next door neighbor

- your friends

- your church (this is probably the most active with a variety of options!)

- Mental Health Ministry

- Knights of Columbus

- Marians of the Immaculate Conception

- EWTN

- Relevant Radio

- pro life crisis pregnancy centers

- Maggie’s Place

- St. Gianna’s Place

- food banks (don’t donate expired food and be mindful of what is currently most needed) like this one

- hospitals (medical supplies like canes, wheelchairs, etc)

- St. Jude

- homeless shelters (think of clothing, gift cards, food, etc)

- nursing homes

- schools

- Charity and Development Appeal

- The Society of St. Vincent de Paul

- Catholic Charities USA

- Catholic Relief Services

- Kolbe Mission

- Sisters of Life

- Susan B. Anthony Pro Life America

- Wounded Warrior Project

- The International Fellowship of Christians and Jews

- You can even donate to homeless on the streets. I always carry an extra bottle of water when I drive, as well as prayer cards and Rosaries. If that person is not next to the highway exit, I’ll go buy them fresh food. For homeless dogs, I have a bottle of water and some dog food in a bowl.

[lestatslestits]

I am once again posting by the skin of my teeth, but it’s still Thursday here which means I’m not late for TOTA Takeover Day Four, dedicated to Fergus MacKinnon.

Fergus is a very special character to me, and his arc is devastating. I work in mental health and out of all of the characters in the show, Fergus is the one who hits closest to home for me.

And as a result it took me a long time to decide what I wanted to write. In the end, I’m pleased with the outcome and I hope y’all enjoy it too.

Note: this is a direct follow up to Rosalie’s ficlet from Day One, in the sense that they take place in the same day/night, and this fic makes reference to that one (although it’s brief and you can definitely still understand this one if you haven’t read it)

He can’t sleep, so he decides to go to the kitchen.

He likes kitchens, they’re filled with the kinds of things he understands: things powered with electricity, things alive with faint humming noises and barely-there vibrations that no one notices but him. This kitchen, massive and industrial, sounds nothing like his mam’s kitchen growing up, or even the kitchen in the flat he had occupied until he occupied a series of loony bins instead, but there’s still something he finds grounding about it, especially late at night when there are no staff members to chase him out because they are afraid he’ll learn where the knives are kept.

(He already knows where the knives are kept, and how to pick the lock on the cupboard door.)

(He once spent an entire afternoon hiding in an entirely different and thoroughly forgotten cupboard just to prove to himself that he could do it without being caught out. To this day, no one knows.)

There are two ways to get into the St. Jude’s Hospital kitchen when you’re not on staff. One involves abseiling down the side of the building from his fourth floor room and the other involves being able to walk silently, blend into the shadows, keep his head down, and be massively underestimated by everyone who sees him. He’s not in the mood to rig up a rope this late in the evening, so he chooses the latter option.

Stuart doesn’t typically work the graveyard shifts, and the aides who do are less inclined to act like big stupid guard dogs eager to slam patients into walls. The one occupying the nurse’s station nearest to the kitchen has brought a book to read and it must be a good one because he doesn’t even look up as Fergus slips past him.

He wishes he knew what the book was. He’s already read everything in the hospital’s single-shelf “library,” and money is always tight so hasn’t picked up any books on his last few outings. But as he can’t very well go up and ask, he puts the thought aside and focuses on picking the locks on the kitchen door. There are two, and he knows how to pick them both with paperclips.

(Technically speaking, he isn’t meant to have paperclips, but they are remarkably easy to nick from almost any desk in the hospital, so he’s always got plenty on hand.)

He slips into the kitchen and shuts the door behind him. He breathes easier in here, out of the line of sight. Even so, he turns one of the locks behind him, and navigates in the dark so that no light shines out under the crack in the door.

For a long moment he relishes his hard-won freedom, and loses himself in the sounds all around him.

In his younger days no one had believed or even had any interest in listening to his insistence that there were voices—whispers—in the electrical hum of the world around him. In fact, no one had cared about the voices he heard at all, until they started shouting abusive litanies and telling him to follow the hidden messages he heard in television and radio broadcasts.

(After that they had cared a lot.)

(To this day the voices he hears in the ambient noise of the modern world are the only ones he actually finds comforting—and the ones no one else seems interested in.)

He allows himself this moment of peace where these voices drown out the ones demanding self-hatred and paranoia.

(The meds that they give him make those voices quieter, but they never silence them completely.)

Once he’s fully grounded in the space and his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, he reminds himself that he’s on mission and moves primarily by sound and touch in search of his prize.

The cocoa here is shit. It’s cheap powdered stuff bought in bulk and mixed with hot water, often without much effort at stirring out the clumps. He’s working with what he’s got, but he swaps water out in favor of milk, a small luxury. Once it’s boiling gently he stirs in the cocoa mix, using the light of the open refrigerator to determine when the clumps have been properly obliterated.

He does the washing up when he’s finished with the kitchen: puts everything back into order and escapes with one perfect cup of cocoa, locking the doors behind him. The aide at the desk has not looked up from his book.

~~~

“I’ve got something for you.”

The figure in the narrow bed shifts under a multitude of blankets. “Fergus? What time is it?” His voice sounds thoroughly wrecked.

“Late. You slept through the cocoa round. Figured you needed the rest, though.”

“So you’re waking me now instea—oh.” Campbell Bain has flopped onto his back and is now squinting up at him with bleary, watery eyes.

He extends the cup he’s holding. “Made it myself,” he explains, answering the unasked question of where he got cocoa at this hour.

“Do they no keep the kitchen locked up tae keep the loonies out of the knives and all?”

“They try,” he agrees amiably, with a subdued smile. Then, “It’s going cold.”

Campbell heaves himself into a sitting position and coughs mightily for his effort. Fergus waits until he’s done before he hands him the cocoa.

“Rosalie stopped by. Earlier.”

“Oh?”

“She couldn’t—“

“Right,” The boy’s head bobs in understanding. He sips the cocoa and declares, “That’s no bad. Different than what we get on the cocoa round, though.”

“I used real milk.” He’s actually properly proud of that, and feels the pride legitimized by Campbell’s appreciative smile. It drops when he asks, “How’s the throat?”

“Hurts.”

Fergus brushes Campbell’s absurd fringe from his face and presses a hand to his forehead. Still feverish.

“Thanks for the cocoa. I didnae know you could cook.”

“It’s just cocoa, Campbell.” He hesitates and adds, “I like kitchens, though. They whisper to me.”

It’s not a strange thing to say. Not here. And anyways, Campbell never seems to register strangeness. He looks unsurprised, and there’s sincerity in his voice when he asks, “What do they say?”

“Good things,” Fergus replies. He doesn’t elaborate. It’s too personal, anything beyond that. Campbell doesn’t press.

“That’s nice,” he says, drinking the cocoa to the dregs. “I’m glad. Thanks for the cocoa.”

“Don’t mention it.” He means that literally: this has to be a secret between the two of them.

Campbell nods in earnest understanding.

“And get some rest. You look like hell.”

Before any offense can be registered, Fergus slips out the door and back towards his room a floor above. He’s less restless now. Maybe he’ll even manage to get some sleep.

[defnot-naurr]

A Series Review/Recommendation-Takin' Over The Asylum(1994)

Starring young David Tennant, who played a precious, chaotic and enthusiastic-minded character, with bipolar disorder-this drama, in my opinion, is truly underrated beyond measure.

The drama begins with a struggling and aspirant middle-aged radio jokey, trying to drag his life along with him, achieve his dearest of all dreams, pay his grandma's television bills, and knock on the doors of random people to bring some sales to his boss as a double-glazing salesman. Eddie McKenna (Ken Scott).

But what will happen when he had to re-establish a hospital radio station at St Jude's? Will the ideas succeed? Or will everything come collapsing down?

Click here to watch the trailer!

Click here to check out the first episode!

"This show did more for mental health than 13 reasons why ever will. Yes there’s some stereotypical stuff in there but it’s surprising how ahead of it’s time it is." -moonpriest8016

"Thank you so much for posting this. I was rattling my brain trying to remember a brilliant comedy/heartfelt series. The only thing that I could recall was a sandy haired man that was a manic DJ. Was googling details and that it wasn't One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest. I found it. Brilliant drama, excellentt cast. Thanks for letting me watch this again. Laughs and tears, but mainly laughs." -zoewilding1845

"Inspired is when you believe you can do anything. Manic is when you know it." -Campbell

[dzthenerd490]

File: Deadman Wonderland

TW- Mention of Suicide, Mention of Child Torture

.

SCP#: ACD

Code Name: The Bloody Goddess of Sin.

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-ACD is kept in Site-AF within a 24x24 containment cell. SCP-ACD is kept in a metal coffin and sedated with [data expunged] at 8000 mgs. Furthermore, to keep her a collection of lullabies are played in the room at all times to keep her clam, due to the sedatives having various degrees of success depending on the time of day. The metal coffin holding SCP-ACD is connected to several canisters that are connected to the body of SCP-ACD. These canisters take the blood of SCP-ACD and circulate it out of her body and back into it. This process is done to ensure that SCP-ACD is unable to control her blood while also ensuring that it continues to circulate around her body without her dying.

Description: SCP-ACD is an adolescent girl that at the time of containment was 6 years old. She has extremely pale skin, pure white hair, and crimson-colored eyes. SCP-ACD has an unknown parasitic like pathogen in her blood that naturally grows, reproduces, and incubates in her blood. The microscopic organisms in her blood allow her to have access to a nearly unlimited number of anomalous abilities.

Recorded anomalous abilities:

- Physical manipulation of blood

- Transform blood into weapons

- Create fire and ice as well as other elements form blood

-  Cause physical, mental, and biological modifications to others through her blood.

- instant regeneration

- perfect immunity to disease

- perfect immunity to physical damage

- perfect immunity to poison and drugs

- perfect immunity to anomalous objects

- super strength

- super speed

- unlimited blood

- flight

- manipulation of gravity around her

- manipulation of wind pressure around her

- complete manipulation and control of her own body

SCP-ACD is also able to create red crystals out of her blood that are filled with the microscopic organisms. When a living being touches these crystals, the crystal enters their body and gives them a random anomalous ability. The anomalous ability they receive is always based on their blood and is fixed to that ability no matter what. Though SCP-ACD doesn't really have a desire to do this and tends to only do it during testing when requested to.

SCP-ACD's mental state is also extremely fragile as she had been tortured greatly by [data expunged] who of which has been executed. Depending on her mental state is when her power is anomalous abilities are strong or weak, hence why the sedatives used on her don't work all the time.

SCP-ACD was discovered in 2007 when Foundation agents found info on inhumane and anomalous experiments on children at [data expunged]. Mobile Task Force Aphrodite-3: "St. Jude's Hospital" was sent in with the purpose of killing all involved with the experiments and rescuing the children. The mission was mostly a success with until SCP-ACD was discovered and killed half of the MTF units on the mission. The surviving MTF units spent the next 4 hours trying to escape SCP-ACD as she was angered by them and wanted to kill them. She believed that they were also members of [data expunged] and wanted revenge.

The only thing that saved the MTF units was [data expunged] who created a device that made a lullaby for SCP-ACD, keeping her calm. Before [data expunged] could be questioned she quickly warned the MTF units to kill [data expunged] before he escapes, she committed suicide afterwards. The MTF units were able to safely collect SCP-ACD and kill [data expunged] as well as the other members of [data expunged].

Side Note: Apparently [data expunged] had a son named [data expunged]. [data expunged] is currently in [data expunged] school and has no memory of anyone who was involved in the incident. As such he is not considered an information breach hazard and is to be left alone by the Foundation.

SCP-ACD was originally sent to Site-AN where she was tested and experimented with Dr. Egao. Unfortunately, due to Dr. Egao's cruel treatment to her as well as the constant tests he put her through, her mental state suffered greatly leading to several Foundation casualties. SCP-ACD was then sent to Site-AF, and Dr. Egao was to be punished for almost allowing SCP-ACD to cause a Containment breach. However, O5-3 and 05-4 defended him and instead praised him for gaining so much data from SCP-ACD thus he avoided punishment.

Update: 2016 - Mobile Task Force Hades-4 “Bio Rebels” has been added to SCP-ACD’s security force. SCP-ADR-3 has made them immune to SCP-ACD’s anomalous abilities and are unable to be infected by her blood crystals. Furthermore Dr. Talic has requested to become SCP-ACD’s therapist to help her mental state heal and no longer become a threat should a containment breach occurs. The request was accepted right away. 

Dr. Talic is recommending that SCP-ACD meet with SCP-ACY-Α and/or SCP-999 in order to further improve her mental health and become less dangerous to Foundation staff. She has also requested that we create a more humane containment cell as well as a more powerful lullaby devise so that she can be both calm and comfortable. This request is pending.

Update: 2021 - SCP-ACD is currently 20 years old and has been more responsive to Dr. Talic who acts as her regular therapist. Furthermore Dr. Talic’s request was approved back in 2018.

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SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[princeloww]

The Real St. Judes: Gartloch Hospital - History (abridged)

The Scottish Lunacy Act of 1857 saw the creation of the Glasgow District Lunacy Board. The act, through these boards, aimed to establish and operate "district asylums", which would house patients unable to pay for the already existing "Royal Asylums".

In 1889, the Gartloch Estate was purchased by the City of Glasgow for approximately £8600 (~1 million today). The Glasgow District Lunacy Board were to turn it into an asylum for the mentally ill, and Gartloch Hospital would open in 1896.

In the early 1900s, a tuberculosis sanitorium was opened.

During World War II, Gartloch was temporarily transformed into an Emergency Medical Services Hospital; the psychiatric patients were transferred and housed in other hospitals. After the war, the tuberculosis sanitorium was shut.

Gartloch would fall into the hands of a different board (Board of Management for Glasgow North-Eastern Mental Hospitals), after joining the NHS in 1948.

Although there were 830 beds in 1904, by 1990 there were apparently only 530 - this being just under the amount available when it first opened.

In its last few years, Gartloch would fall under the Greater Glasgow Community and Mental Health Services NHS Trust. In 1996, the hospital officially closed, and was essentially abandoned, until 2003, when plans to turn Gartloch into a village began.

Now, there is a village, "Gartloch Village", surrounding the hospital. The main body, the iconic front we see in Donna Franceschild's TOTA, standing derelict and with boarded windows.

Oh, it's also apparently haunted, according to two nurses.

What was the hospital like?

I've nabbed these (like most of the other information - although I cross-referenced the rest (such as the years) from wikipedia and some other archives) from this article on hiddenglasgow.com.

I was born and lived at 2280 Gartloch Rd (East Cottages) of Gartloch Hospital. My Father, Bill Milne was the Bacteriologist at Gartloch Hospital Laboratory. My Mother was Helen and was the hospital hairdresser. My memories of Gartloch are the most wonderful memories ever. We had the most perfect childhood. The children of employees were involved in lots of differant ways. I remember especially the farm. Our house looked onto the busy fields and the Bishop Loch. We spent many happy summers pickinf tatties with the patients. And in the long cold winters, skating on the Bishop Loch. Christmad parties in the hospital involved all the staff, their children and patients. We got to know many of the patients who had been there most of their lives. Some had been admitted the the unit because of ''having a child out of wedlock'' I have so many stories to tell this page is not big enough! I would love to hear from anyone who remembers Gartloch or who lived/worked there.

Pattie Milne [04/02/2004]

I was talking with my gran t'other night about Gartloch (her maw died in there!) and she remembers these two women that used to walk about when she went visiting. One of them was about 4 foot nothing and the other about 6 foot. They walked up and down the hall, not saying a word to each other, but every now and then the taller one would repeatedly slap the little one on the head (that story seemed funnier when my gran told it!).

Crusty [30/01/2004]

There are a few more interesting stories on the linked article, so if you're interested, I recommend you check them out.

Finally: Takin' Over the Asylum (and other pop culture)

Takin' Over the Asylum aired on the 27th of September, 1994. The six-part drama was filmed in a disused wing of Gartloch, while the hospital was still open and functional. The hospital would close only 2 years after the airing of the show.

Gartloch's iconic, gothic towers would play a key role in the show, and be instantly recognisable to any viewer of TOTA.

Although it shut down in 1996, TOTA would not be the only media produced about the hospital. Wikipedia states that a film was produced in 2005, named (appropriately) "Gartloch Hospital", that covered the history of the hospital. This film went on to win an award in 2007, at the Scottish Mental Health Art and Film Festival, for "Best Factual Film".

Although hidden away, Gartloch hospital has an undeniably interesting history. Personal accounts from the hospital seem to paint it as a fun place, where patients and staff seemed to get along. Knowing the horrors of early mental health treatment, and the abuse many would suffer in these sort of places, we can only hope that these accounts are true and create an accurate image of life surrounding the hospital.

And I wrote all this because I really like David Tennant. Good night

Note the decorative peaks on the towers - they are absent from the rest of the photos. They were reportedly removed in the late 1930's.

SOURCES

Very interesting archive that goes into the history of Gartloch: (link) (source of above images)

Timeline and personal memories: (link)

Overview: Wikipedia (gartloch, Takin' Over the Asylum)

[takashi0]

#'Lol Batman just beats up the underprivileged and doesn't do anything to help' said someone who has never seen Batman#He's Arkham's number 1 donor and sponsor so they have top notch state-of-the-art facilities to help the mentally ill and criminally insane#He bought (?) a broadcasting station just to tell rioters and criminals all over Gotham he's got applications lined up for all of them#He personally funds Dr Tompkins's free clinic to ensure every citizen has access to healthcare and honest doctors#Elliot Memorial and Gotham General hospitals run off of million dollar donations from Wayne himself#In Arkham Origins during Christmas he ordered presents and funding to go to St Judes' Children's Cancer Research Hospital#That's listing only 10% of the BIG stuff he does. He really shines with the small stuff.#Talking to children who just lost their parents. Visiting victims of the various supercriminals' rampages.#In Justice League Unlimited he talked with a child who was the test subject of a very illegal project who was about to die because of-#what they did to her. He sat with her until she passed away.#He's not the punisher. He's the goddamn Batman.

BRUCE: I’ve created jobs by keeping Wayne Enterprises in Gotham. I’ve provided scholarships to every employee of my company and I offer them to others as well. I’ve built orphanages and hospitals, including mental health facilities. I’ve provided jobs to ex-felons right out of prison so they can rebuild their lives. I’ve supported pro-reform political candidates and the few honest cops in Gotham City.

BRUCE: It’s going to take time to reform the system and lift this city out of poverty and corruption, so I think I’ll spend my evenings protecting the people who live here. Tonight, I’m going after the criminals preying on the sex workers struggling to make a living in Crime Alley.

BRUCE: And once I’ve kicked some ass, I’ll offer their victims jobs at Wayne Enterprises so they can get off the streets and have stable, safe, legal employment. I’ll pay for any education or training they might need.

ALFRED: Don’t forget your cape, sir.