#that's the inevitable side effect of an uncertain date of birth

[tethys-the-aquatic-sea-godness]

Age accurate Rebellion Lords:

Arthur Dayne; 23 years old at the time of his death in 283 AC*

Benjen Stark; 16 years old at the end of the Rebellion in 283 AC*

Brandon Stark; 20 years old at the time of his death in 282 AC

Eddard Stark; 20 years old at the end of the Rebellion in 283 AC

Howland Reed; 18 years old at the end of the Rebellion in 283 AC*

Jaime Lannister; 17 years old at the end of the Rebellion in 283 AC

Oberyn Martell; 26 years old at the end of the Rebellion in 283 AC*

Rhaegar Targaryen; 24 years old at the time of his death in 283 AC

Robert Baratheon; 21 years old at the end of the Rebellion in 283 AC

Stannis Baratheon; 19 years old at the end of the Rebellion in 283 AC

*exact date of birth is uncertain

[cookinguptales]

Today, SCOTUS is hearing arguments about whether businesses should have to cover birth control for their employees in their health insurance plans and I just. It’s hard to read.

I was going to make up this big informational persuasive post about the situation. But I’m just. I’m just so sad and angry and tired. So I figured I’d make an emotional one instead.

Let me tell you about my hormonal birth control journey. 

(Rest under a cut for length and content. cw: mental illness, graphic discussion of medical issues, injuries, & menstruation, discussions of suicide & self-harm, discussion of opioids, alcohol, & recreational drug use.)

 I started taking hormonal birth control late in high school to help regulate “painful periods”. It wasn’t for actual birth control at that point and I hadn’t been diagnosed with any disease, not even POTS yet. I just had “painful periods”.

Things were okay for a little while, but when I got to college, things started to fall apart. The double whammy of undiagnosed mental illness and a barely-diagnosed chronic illness (POTS was relatively unknown at the time and my doctors gave me information which I now know is incorrect) really caused me to spiral during my first year of college. I didn’t know it yet, but I react very poorly to some forms of hormonal birth control. Put succinctly, they drive me batshit insane. On one pill, I literally did not leave my apartment for over a month. I became very literally agoraphobic. Bouncing off the walls, irritable, angry, high suicidal ideation. As bad as side effects can be.

But I didn’t know that yet. I just stopped taking BC as part of the whirlwind of medicines and doctors that my life became for about two years while I was on my (first) medical leave from college.

My ribs were coming out back then. I didn’t know that yet, either. I knew that when I was around 16, I started getting severe back pains. The first time it happened, I had to go to the ER because I couldn’t breathe and my teachers thought I was having a heart attack. I got a narcotic shot in my butt. It did nothing to dull the pain. That’s how much it hurt. But it went away on its own eventually and I over the years I started medicating reoccurrences with a lot of different things. Physical therapy. Muscle relaxers. (Medically prescribed) opiates that made me puke. Prescription strength Advil. Wine.

I didn’t see that it was all connected yet. Not yet. I didn’t realize, with my periods as irregular as they were, that the back pains were coming around the same time in my cycle each time.

My “painful periods” got worse. I talked to an OBGYN, with my mother in the room. I told her that I was scared of something like childbirth. I knew that my blood flow was dangerously bad. What if the fetus didn’t get enough blood? Oh, my doctor laughed, that wasn’t a problem. The fetus would always get enough blood. The risk was that I wouldn’t. That it, like the tiny vampire it was, would take it all until I simply died. If I got pregnant, I would likely die. I asked about permanent sterilization. My mother cried. My doctor said no. I didn’t ask again.

I went back on birth control.

It was odd. I didn’t want children before that visit, not really. I was so tired all the time. I knew I’d never be able to manage to raise a child — and honestly, I didn’t care to try. I was so depressed. I was so sick. It sounded like so much work. I still don’t want to have kids. But it still feels… weird, knowing that I can’t. And knowing that I could die if I get knocked up.

I’m bisexual, but I have zero sexual contact with men (because I don’t love them, despite being somewhat sexually attracted to them) and zero sexual contact with people with penises (because they could literally kill me and it would be no one’s fault). But I’ve been followed home by men before. I’ve had cabbies lock me in and ask me for a date. I’ve had men who won’t take no for an answer. And my god, it terrifies me that I might have to deal with both sexual assault and a slowly creeping murder all at once.

(It’s laughable to think he’d be tried for both.)

I ended up getting sick off birth control a few times. I went on and off it periodically during my college career. I now in retrospect see that a lot of my “meltdowns” were a combination of discrimination-based stress, physical breakdowns, and hormonal whirlwinds. At my worst times, I was on birth control. The wrong ones.

My periods, over time, got worse. My back would hurt. The cramps were unbelievable. I couldn’t feel my legs. I could feel them too much. I couldn’t keep food down. I’d be so angry, so sad, so everything.

I went to the doctor again. I was diagnosed with both endometriosis and PMDD. PMDD, or premenstrual dysphoria disorder, is like PMS on steroids. I remember telling my doctor, in halting tones, that I wasn’t well before my periods. That I always had depression, always had anxiety, but I wasn’t well before periods. At her prodding, I confessed that sometimes I would just lie there for hours, for days, in the fetal position. That I’d clutch at my own arms, mooring myself, because I knew that those white knuckles were the only thing between me and killing myself. That my brain, always somewhat malevolent, became an inescapable mantra of death. That I’d just lie there and sob because it took everything I had not to hurt myself. That I’d find claw marks, bruises, on my arms later, and all I could do was get some ice.

It was better than the alternative.

I told my doctor about how painful my periods had always been. How I’d heard a story once about, y’know, that Spartan boy? The one who hid a fox kit under his shirt during an examination and stayed perfectly silent even as it clawed at him so he wouldn’t be caught with it? How it tore at his stomach until he fell down dead, still silent? I told her how I felt like I was holding a fox kit every damn month and sometimes I couldn’t stand the pain of it. Sometimes I considered ending that pain, one way or another.

She put me back on birth control.

A little less than a year later, or in layman’s terms, about a year ago, my mental health was so bad again that I was almost committed. Literally committed. I had to go stay with my parents for a few months while I transitioned to new medications because it wasn’t safe for me to be alone. I learned that the birth control I was on could create those symptoms — but they didn’t start until months after you’d started taking it. So you didn’t realize it was the medicine. You just assumed you were crazy and unlikable and so, so angry. At the world, at your loved ones, but mostly at yourself.

I learned, around that time, that I also had Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. That the pain I felt every month right before my period wasn’t just cramps. It was my bones coming undone from their sockets. It was my hips dislocating. It was my ribs popping out of my spine. I realized that that lump my parents could feel in my back wasn’t a hard knot of tense muscles. It was my fucking rib poking out of my back. I learned that there is a period right before menstruation that mimics a period during pregnancy where your joints loosen — your body thinks it is preparing you for birth, for loosening your pelvic cavity so an entire head can pass through. For someone with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, that period of joint looseness was enough to wreak absolute havoc on a system of already-weakened joints.

I learned how to put my own ribs back in with a foam roller. I started drinking marijuana tea for the pain. I went on a different birth control. I stopped taking the placebo pills. I had to fully eradicate that entire portion of my cycle. Goodbye PMDD and ribs constantly popping out. I don’t miss you!

I am still on that pill, y’know. Every day I take it and wonder if I’m one step closer to the day when it inevitably destroys me. The last one took about a year. Tick tock.

Or maybe I finally found the one that works… I really just don’t know.

The fact of the matter is that I have a full handful of maladies that require birth control so I can function. PMDD, endometriosis, dangerous pregnancy, EDS. I need hormonal birth control. I would probably be dead by now without it. The PMDD especially was that bad. My internal organs are likely a scarred-up mess. But the birth control itself almost killed me, too. God, it was close.

Simply put, birth control is heaven and hell all wrapped up in a pill. It treats illnesses and it prevents pregnancy. In other words, it provides you with both freedom and peace of mind. It is absolutely essential. But it’s also monstrous. The sheer number of sometimes-deadly side effects that come with hormonal treatments is staggering. Which is why you need to be under a doctor’s careful eye when you’re on it. You need to be free to choose whichever brand you need. You need to be free to switch kinds at a moment’s notice. None of these things are possible in a system where these pills are not fully covered by insurance.

(And yes, I know, this is a stupidly American problem in so many ways. Obviously the ideal thing here would be single-payer for all medical procedures. But that’s not up for debate here and insurance for BC is. Because for some reason we let some people’s religious convictions determine others’ health care. But I digress.)

Please don’t worry too much for me. I have a good employer who has told me in no uncertain terms that I don’t need to worry about my healthcare coverage. But there are so many people just like me. Who may not have diagnoses yet. Who may have “problem bodies”. Who only know that they need to do something and that they might have to go through several pills to find it. Whose employers either have the strong religious belief that hormonal birth control is a sin or the strong religious belief that they want to pay as little as possible for their workers’ health care. (Call me cynical.)

Those are the people I worry about. Those are the people I feel absolutely sick over as I watch the SCOTUS argue whether we should be allowed to have life-saving medicine. The people who I know will fall through the cracks the second that the cracks are widened enough for them to do so. The people who will die.

It’s a tense time right now. It’s a tense time for very obvious reasons. But this morning I find myself to be even tenser, and my stomach hurts thinking about it. It feels like all I can do is stare at a pill packet and remember every horrible reason I need it and every horrible thing it’s done to me and I just.

It’s a lot.

[mg-bsl381]

The Brightness of His Smile

I thought I’d try writing about something a little different than my usual favourites. 

I like how this storyline is developing on screen but whether we will see a happy ever after is another story entirely.

In case you were wondering who this is about - the clue is in the title!

I hope you like this.

The Brightness of His Smile  

If first meetings were considered important, Trixie felt it was an inauspicious start but she had a job to do.  Nothing and no-one was going to stop her giving the best care to her mothers-to-be.  That song was driving her mad and so she decided to tackle the problem at its source.  She reprimanded Sister Winifred for over-running on her dental hygiene programme.  The dentist, who Trixie hadn’t noticed until then due to him sitting crouched on a tiny chair defended Sister Winifred.  

After Sister Winifred introduced him as Mr Dockerill, the man in question got to his feet.  Trixie was immediately struck by his height but she was not deterred as she gave him a piece of her mind.  It was only after hearing about Crystal William’s no-show at the dental department of St Cuthbert’s that Trixie decided the dentist might prove useful after all.

He tried to assure her that he was about to depart but after she explained Crystal’s situation he agreed to help.  Trixie was surprised by how gentle he was with Crystal.  Trixie held her hands as she opened her mouth for Mr Dockerill and the poor woman was shaking like a leaf.  Trixie was unimpressed by his offering her services as a chaperone but she agreed as she knew it would reassure Crystal.  After that he departed the cubicle but not without a remark to Trixie that left a twinkle in his eye of humour, he was gone.

Later that afternoon, Trixie accompanied a very nervous Crystal to St Cuthbert’s.  The prognosis for Crystal’s teeth was poor but Trixie’s first impression of the dentist was beginning to mellow.  He did have a very pleasing smile, probably a good thing for a dentist, she thought.

The following week Trixie once again accompanied Crystal to St Cuthbert’s, for the removal of her teeth.  She helped Crystal count as she went to sleep and was thanked by Mr Dockerill who looked at her a little bit longer than was necessary.  The procedure was ghastly and Trixie was relieved when it was over.  For a woman who spent her days delivering babies, she was more squeamish than she realised when it came to tooth extraction.  After the procedure was complete, Trixie and Crystal waited outside the room until the worst effects of the anaesthetic had worn off but things took an unexpected turn when Crystal’s waters broke.  Mr Dockerill insisted on accompanying them to the labour ward as he needed to keep an eye on Crystal.  Trixie wondered how useful that would be but thought it was probably of similar use as a midwife during a tooth extraction.  To Trixie’s surprise he made a good midwifery assistant.  It was an insight into each other’s professions.

A fortnight later after the birth of Crystal’s baby boy, her dentures were ready for fitting and Trixie once again was there for her.  Trixie was looking forward to the trip to the dentist and not entirely just on Crystal’s behalf.   Crystal’s reaction to her new teeth was wonderful and her new smile was beautiful but there was a certain brightness in the dentist’s smile as he looked at Trixie that made her heart flutter.

After Crystal left with her family, Trixie lingered for a moment.  They had made a real difference in someone’s life in their professional capacity and it was a joy to see.  Mr Dockerill invited her to dinner and told her that his name was Christopher.  She agreed that as they were no longer “quite so professionally intertwined” she could accept his invitation and told him her name was Beatrix but she was known as Trixie.

Trixie and Barbara got ready for their dates together.  Trixie had no misgivings about her decision to break off her engagement with Tom.  He and Barbara were much better suited and anyway Trixie was excited about the idea of her new friendship with Christopher.  She hoped he would be pleasant company and his light blue sports car was certainly impressive.

Although their first date had gone well, Trixie did not want to appear too keen, so she didn’t answer his calls.  Christopher was persistent and she felt sorry for him when Phyllis relayed his encounter with Sister Monica Joan and her opinions on mercury fillings.  Trixie started to feel a little guilty about her treatment of perfectly decent man.  Phyllis’ words got right to the heart of the matter.  

‘Failure isn’t fatal but hesitation can be.’

Trixie knew she was afraid of another failed relationship after what happened with Tom and her descent into alcoholism that followed it.  However her hesitation may lose her a good man.  The increasing turmoil across the Atlantic and its global implications gave Trixie the nudge she needed to be brave.  She was nervous about making the phone call but he was delighted by the prospect of an evening out with her.

That evening she sat perched on the bonnet of his sports car feeling every inch the film star.  Her tiny shiver of cold was met with Christopher draping his jacket around her shoulders.  Their conversation turned to deeper matters and inevitably war.   He spoke of Korea and she in turn mentioned her father.  He was easy to talk to and when he offered her the excitements of the city, all she wanted was to stay just as they were.  To be kissed sitting on the bonnet of his car in the moonlight was so romantic and she was walking on air for days despite the threat of total war.  When she found out that everything was resolved, she could only smile and hope that there would be a next time with Christopher.

A candlelit picnic in the Nonnatus garden wasn’t dinner in a smart restaurant but it was the company that made it special.  Trixie’s heart sank when Christopher unveiled the champagne glasses to toast the new peace.  She kept her smile bright and told him that as she was on call later, she would not be able to imbibe.  Trixie realised that if things became serious with her and Christopher she would have to tell him about her and alcohol.  

Several dates later she was trying to find a suitable outfit for a weeknight supper date.  Neither Delia or Valerie were very helpful and Valerie even suggested that one of her dresses matched Christopher’s sports car.  Did she not know the difference between an ice and a Wedgewood blue?   A handwritten note after she’d spent her afternoon off having her hair done was a blow to Trixie.  In his note Christopher was apologetic but that did not change the fact that this was the third cancelled date.  She was very annoyed with him and the sympathy of Barbara and Sister Winifred did not help.

A few days later Trixie was feeling more charitable towards Christopher so she decided to pop a note under his windscreen wiper when she was at the hospital.  She was in the process of composing her note when she noticed a startlingly yellow scarf draped over the passenger seat.  She picked it up, immediately noticing the quality of the fabric and the stitching.  The perfume that laced the scarf was one she recognised and a very superior one at that.  Trixie felt a fool to be duped by a charming and handsome man.  

After some reflection she decided that she would meet him after all and give him the opportunity to tell his side of the story.  She told Barbara that if she was out longer than an hour then things were probably going well.  Christopher challenged her on her assumptions and Trixie had to confirm that was what she had thought.  She didn’t know what she felt about his revelations that he was divorced with a child.  She could understand that he needed to see his daughter but he was clearly falling in love with her and Trixie was nervous and uncertain, so she walked away.

Trixie’s talk with Valerie about Christopher’s ex-wife and child brought up the subject of secrets.  Trixie realised that she had been cross with him for not revealing the truth about his past earlier but she herself was equally guilty of not being honest with him.  She left him a note on his car inviting him to Guy Fawkes tea with the Sisters.  She hoped he would come as however difficult it would be, she knew she needed to tell him something important about herself.

She waited on the steps of Nonnatus for him to arrive.  His comment about her note being a summons made her feel guilty for the way she had treated him.  He asked for her forgiveness and she knew that now was the right moment for her revelation.  She told him that trust unfolded in a friendship and that was true and a friendship’s shift to love didn’t hasten the trust.  She was so afraid of what he might think when she told him but instead of rejection there was acceptance.  When Christopher asked to kiss her, Trixie knew that her revelation had not diminished his feelings for her.  Unfortunately she had to advise him that Nonnatus and kissing were not compatible but she wished that it was not the case.

Things were going from strength to strength between Trixie and Christopher when he asked if she would meet his daughter, Alexandra.  Trixie was unsure, partly because this indicated a certain permanence to their relationship but also how difficult it would be to meet the little girl and then have her relationship with Christopher end.  She didn’t want to cause his daughter upset.  

After much consideration Trixie decided that it would be alright to meet Alexandra and Christopher was delighted with her decision.  Trixie knew that this was a very big step up for their relationship but her feelings for Christopher were growing steadily and she had hopes for their future.  He arranged that they would have tea in a very superior tea room.

The meeting did not get off to a great start, not unlike Trixie and Christopher’s own first meeting.  Alexandra’s present of a rabbit from Harrods, surprised Trixie.  She had not thought of somewhere as illustrious as Harrods as a place to purchase a rabbit.  Her anecdote about her own rabbit did not come out well but she was trying to find common ground with a young girl and it wasn’t easy.  Thankfully it was Alexandra herself who found something they both liked.  She admired Trixie’s nail varnish and Trixie commented that the colour was not as she had expected.  Her offer of an assistant to choose another shade was met with delight by Alexandra and Trixie knew that she had made a connection with the little girl.  She was relieved and was thankful for Christopher’s nod of approval.

Their next outing all together was a very special one for Trixie.  She was nervous about Barbara and Tom’s wedding as it reminded her of what might have been.  Christopher had been surprised to be invited and was going to decline the invitation as he had Alexandra that weekend.  Trixie explained to him about her history with Tom and Christopher offered to be there to support her.  She was grateful to him and although she knew it would probably all be perfectly fine, she was glad she would not have to be there alone.  He took hold of her hand as Tom and Barbara said their vows and Trixie squeezed it in return.

The sight of the carousel delighted Alexandra and Trixie was thrilled that she was chosen to accompany the little girl first.  They had a great time perched on one of the horses together.  Trixie laughed at the exuberance of Christopher’s wave.  Although she had only known him a few months, she had already fallen for him.  He was a lovely man and his daughter was a delight.  He had the film star looks she had always dreamed about and he treated her like a lady.  She secretly had hopes for their future but she would have to wait and see what happened.  She hadn’t meant to fall in love with him but the brightness of his smile melted her heart.

[reomanet]

Comment on The Real Reason Why We Love Bad Boys, Toxic Partners and Emotionally Unavailable Men by 9 Ways Children Of Narcissistic Parents Love Differently – US Health Secure

Comment on The Real Reason Why We Love Bad Boys, Toxic Partners and Emotionally Unavailable Men by 9 Ways Children Of Narcissistic Parents Love Differently – US Health Secure

Joel Sossa Bad boys wreak havoc on our lives, our bodies and our brains. The reasons we love bad boys, toxic people and emotionally unavailable partners are not just emotional and psychological – they are downright biochemical. The truth of the matter is, our brains can be rewired to fixate on people who aren’t good for us. Emotionally unavailable men, toxic partners such as narcissists or sociopaths and pickup artists alike all depend on these effects to get us hooked. We can become addicted to the highs and lows of dangerous romantic relationships in a way that makes a break-up from a toxic person similar to rehab from a destructive drug addiction. Have you wondered why you were unable to let go of that one person who defined your relationship ambiguously, treated you inconsistently and unfairly, brought up your worst insecurities while simultaneously subjecting you to sweet talking and fantasy-prone fast-forwarding? Unfortunately for those of us who have a tendency towards dating bad boys (or girls), our addiction to toxic partners is actually strengthened by their mistreatment of us. When we first meet a toxic partner or an emotionally unavailable person, our bond with him or her becomes cemented through their excessive attention combined with their emotional withdrawal and withholding throughout the relationship. The knowledge of what a toxic partner does to our brain makes it more likely for us to cut back on our investment on those who we perceive may not be a good fit earlier on, detach from any attachments we may already have to toxic people and realize that the powerful bond that’s been created has arisen from our biochemical bonds, not our true standards. Remember that rejection and affection often go hand in hand in such a turbulent relationship where a partner is fluent in giving you mixed messages. Rejection can hurt, literally , and it’s no surprise that your brain circuitry during a break-up mirrors your brain circuitry when you are in physical pain . A break-up with a toxic person who has mistreated you throughout the relationship compounds this effect and makes it that much more difficult to recover from. These are a few main chemicals and hormones involved which make for a powerful cocktail of attachment that have little to do with the merits of the person you’re dating and everything to do with their shady behavior: Dopamine Positive experiences like unforgettable dates, over-the-top attention, flattery, amazing sex, gifts, and grand romantic gestures can all release dopamine in the brain. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter that controls the pleasure center of our brains which creates reward circuits , which then generates automatic associations in our brain that link our romantic partners with pleasure and even our survival . The catch? Dopamine flows more readily in the brain when there is a “intermittent reinforcement” schedule of rewards rather than a consistent schedule. The inability of a toxic partner to give us what we need leaves us pining for the good times and continuing to invest in the relationship, much like a gambler at a slot machine who hopes for a perceived gain despite the inevitable losses of such a risky investment. Dr. Helen Fisher discovered that this “frustration-attraction” experience of obstacles in a romantic relationship actually heightens our feelings of love, rather than hindering them. She discusses how the brains of those in adversity-ridden relationships become activated in an eerily similar way to the brains of cocaine addicts . Emotionally unavailable men or otherwise toxic partners are masters of intermittent reinforcement; they do things on their own schedule – literally. They may disappear for days, they may have a plethora of side chicks, they may constantly woo you and also withhold from you that coveted relationship status. They’re always on the precipice of commitment or changing for the better before they press the reset button once again. They are always uncertain (or too certain when they’re sweet-talking you into bed) about the future, and they leave you guessing about their true intentions on a daily basis. Want more writing like this? Read the book POWER: Surviving and Thriving After Narcissistic Abuse by Shahida Arabi. When we don’t know the next time we’ll see someone or are unable to predict their next move, that person becomes much more alluring to our brain. So that nice guy who performs these kind acts consistently rather than periodically feels less rewarding to the brain than the bad boy who takes turns treating you to wonderful dates and then also mistreating you with his disappearances, false promises, ambiguous statements, hot-and-cold behavior and sudden withdrawals of affection. In other words? Our brains can become masochists, seeking the very people that hurt them. They become so accustomed to good behavior from nice guys that they stop releasing as much dopamine. That’s why even in a healthy relationship, we can become so “used to” the safety and security of a gentle partner that we find him or her less exciting over time. On the other hand, taking a reprieve from a toxic partner, which will surely happen at some point because he’s not one to stick around for too long before he’s onto the next best thing, gives the reward circuits of our brains a good “reset” so that the next time they’re into us and hoovering us back in, the dopamine effect feels that much sweeter. A charming player who comes along to sweep us off our feet, only to later replace us with another member of his harem – ultimately and sadly steals the show. The unpredictability of when we’ll get our next “fix” of this elusive person creates stronger reward circuits, which leaves us wanting more and more. Unfortunately, the higher the emotional unavailability of a partner, the more exciting he appears to us – at least, to the reward center of our brains. In order to be mindful of the dopamine effect, we have to understand that the reason we’re so obsessed with a toxic partner isn’t because he’s better than the nice guy with whom the romance may build more gradually and organically; it’s usually because he’s much worse. Resisting the dopamine effect means resisting creating new pleasurable memories with the person who provides us pleasure primarily through pain. Oxytocin Let’s not forget about how we bond with these partners through the power of touch. Physical intimacy enables women in dysfunctional relationships to indiscriminately release oxytocin, aptly named the “love” or “cuddle” hormone. This is the same hormone that bonds mother and child at birth, and it also bonds you with the men that are undeserving of you. Oxytocin promotes not only attachment but also trust . Research shows that when oxytocin is involved, betrayal does not necessarily have an effect on how much a person continues to invest in the person who betrayed him or her. So the deception of a toxic partner doesn’t necessarily derail us from trusting him blindly, especially if we’re physically enmeshed with him. The oxytocin effect may also be stronger for women than for men; according to Susan Kuchinskas, author of the book, The Chemistry of Connection: How the Oxytocin Response Can Help You Find Trust, Intimacy and Love , estrogen tends to promote the effects of oxytocin bonding whereas testosterone dampens it. Emotionally unavailable men, toxic partners and “bad boys” are often more exciting in bed. Whether this is because the intermittent reinforcement of their hot-and-cold behavior tricks our brains into thinking so or whether bad boys tend to have more sexual prowess remains to be seen, but the fact of the matter is, once we’ve bonded with them sexually, we’ve also bonded with them psychologically and emotionally. Cortisol, adrenaline and norepinephrine Toxic partners evoke spikes in our levels of cortisol, adrenaline and norepinephrine, all of which regulate our reactions to stressful situations and work with our “fight or flight” response. Except what often happens in a toxic relationship is that we “freeze” in the relationship with a sense of learned helplessness rather than fight or flee (though we may also certainly fight too). The release of stress hormones is sure to sharpen your focus on that particular partner, as we have a tendency to become hyper-aware of anything that has caused our stress hormone system to go into overdrive as an evolutionary response to threat. This is likely to cause you to seek out the source of both your comfort and discomfort: the toxic partner that simultaneously becomes both your safe haven as well as your shitty excuse for a relationship. According to Christopher Bergland , oxytocin, adrenaline and cortisol work together to consolidate and reconsolidate fear-based memories. So your fears and anxiety about abandonment by this partner, combined with your physical intimacy with that partner make memories related to this partner more vivid and more difficult to extricate yourself from. The unpredictability, fear and anxiety associated with a partner who either causes you to walk on eggshells and habitually leaves your head spinning releases adrenaline which has an antidepressant effect. We can become addicted to this effect. Fear also releases dopamine, which again feeds those pesky reward circuits in our brain, leaving us longing for that adrenaline rush. Fear and pleasure inevitably become intertwined despite our best efforts to expose and dismantle the seeming irrationality of our behavior. This is why a couple who rides a roller coaster together or experiences a life-threatening event tend to bond even more closely. It is also why you tend to inadvertently bond more deeply with someone who has hurt you or has even subjected you to abuse – we call this “trauma bonding” . Serotonin When we fall in love, we become obsessive like people with OCD…literally. Research has revealed that serotonin levels in our brains drop in a similar fashion when we are in love as they do in the brains of people with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Since serotonin regulates and stabilizes mood, curbing obsessive thinking, you can imagine how low levels of it when we’re romantically involved with someone can cause our decision-making abilities and judgment to go haywire. Low levels of serotonin also encourage sexual behavior, so serotonin only makes it more likely that we’ll also be swept away by bonds created by oxytocin and dopamine as well. Since dopamine is also released when we recollect pleasurable memories, constantly daydreaming and reminiscing over the first romantic moments of a charming partner often has the effect of amplifying this circuit in the brain. That’s why you’re usually hanging onto every text, waiting anxiously for the next phone call or fantasizing about the next date even if it’s with someone you know logically may not be a good fit. Toxic partners and bad boys tend to dominate our brains 24/7 with their unpredictable behavior as well as their love-bombing , so it’s no wonder that we develop an otherwise irrational compulsion to go back to the very people who hurt us. While our brain is definitely not out for our best interest when it comes to bad boys, that doesn’t mean our brains can’t be rewired for positive change. Neuroplasticity makes it possible for our brains to make new neural connections in productive ways such as exercise, healthy social bonds, music, new hobbies, interests and passions. The key to healing from bad boy addiction lies in substituting this unhealthy drug with healthier rewards and obsessions – those that truly nurture and nourish us, rather than those that starve us and leave us reeling for our next fix of crumbs. Falling in love with a dangerous partner is very much like becoming a serious addict. In order to survive the withdrawal effects, we have to go cold turkey, or at the very least, begin to wean ourselves off from the high dosage of toxicity. Shahida Arabi is the author of the book POWER: Surviving and Thriving After Narcissistic Abuse , available here .

Read More…

The post Comment on The Real Reason Why We Love Bad Boys, Toxic Partners and Emotionally Unavailable Men by 9 Ways Children Of Narcissistic Parents Love Differently – US Health Secure appeared first on TBNT Have The Solution.

from TBNT Have The Solution https://ift.tt/2qUZibk via Article Source