#the cognitive disconnect is wild | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dchan87 · 11 months ago

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The process of removing Biden as the Democratic presidential candidate can’t exactly be said to have worked well, but it worked. And now it’s time for Americans to turn the same self-regulatory instincts to Biden’s 78-year-old former rival. Trump’s campaign is already falling apart – most recently with the shameful attempt to use a ceremony at Arlington Cemetery as an electioneering platform. But there are deeper reasons to inspect Trump’s political credibility now. Because cognitively speaking, Trump is beginning to make Biden look like Oscar Wilde. Events move so fast, the news cycle is so accelerated, that the most telling signs of Trump’s decline pass without commentary. It might be illuminating to dwell a little on one of them. About two weeks ago, Trump seemed to denigrate the Medal of Honor, America’s highest award for military valour in combat. Speaking at his New Jersey golf club, he was praising Miriam Adelson, the Israeli-American widow of the late Republican mega-donor Sheldon Adelson, when he recalled how he once gave her the Presidential Medal of Freedom. “Miriam, I watched Sheldon sitting so proud in the White House when we gave Miriam the Presidential Medal of Freedom. That’s the highest award you can get as a civilian, it’s the equivalent of the Congressional Medal of Honor, but civilian version. It’s actually much better, because everyone gets the Congressional Medal of Honor that’s soldiers. They’re either in very bad shape because they’ve been hit so many times by bullets, or they’re dead. She gets it and she’s a healthy, beautiful woman. And they’re rated equal.”

The liberal press, now comfortably primed to respond with moral outrage to every outrageous thing Trump says, pounced. Here he was, once again, spewing contempt for the military. However, few, if any, people pointed out that it is not the “Congressional Medal of Honor” but the “Medal of Honor”. Had Biden made that mistake, an outcry would have ensued. And Trump’s patterns of thinking here indicate a cognitive decline in the way he apprehends and makes sense of reality that goes beyond mere propriety or morality. It is, of course, wholly deficient in empathy to justify the lesser value of the Medal of Honor by citing the fact that the soldiers who receive it have “been hit so many times by bullets, or they’re dead”. But it is not simply, as people have suggested, that Trump, who despises “losers”, considers a “loser” anyone who has been wounded in battle, or taken prisoner in combat.

It is that, first, he does not seem to recognise the moral significance of bodies and minds in pain. And, second, he is not aware of the importance, social and moral, of pretending he does recognise another’s pain even if he doesn’t. Then there is the language itself. It suddenly swerves into the incoherent. Trump says that “everyone gets the Congressional Medal of Honor that’s soldiers”. (He could also mean: “everyone gets the Congressional Medal of Honor – that’s soldiers.”) The words verge on nonsense. Either he is saying that every soldier gets the Medal of Honor, which is absurdly untrue. Or he is saying that only soldiers get the Medal of Honor, but that every soldier gets it – which is similarly absurd – but with a twist. If Biden had spoken in such a way a year ago, he would have been pushed aside all the sooner.

Trump’s extreme rhetoric is still routinely dismissed as him “just being Trump” – the usual hyperbole and bluster. Yet it is hardly mere bluster or hyperbole for Trump to claim, as he has recently, that “you can’t walk across the street to get a loaf of bread. You get shot, you get mugged, you get raped, you get whatever it may be.” Perhaps the most alarming part of that sentence is the disturbingly disconnected “whatever it may be”. And it is not merely vulgar for Trump to republish a post claiming that Kamala Harris has achieved political success thanks to dispensing oral sex. The claim is not just appalling; it is crazy to make it in public. That post appeared with several others: a photo of Harris in an orange prison jumpsuit, a photo of Barack Obama with a caption asking Trump supporters if they wanted Obama to be tried before a military tribunal, and photos of Trump with AI-created lions. Most people do not lack inhibition to this degree. But Trump’s repetition of such lunacy has made it routine. Call it the banality of madness. Trump’s assertion, made in deadly earnest in an interview last Tuesday with Dr Phil McGraw, that God had spared him from being assassinated in order to save America, and possibly the world, barely raised an eyebrow.

Incredibly, in America, where just about everything goes – Trump, for example – there is a tacit prohibition against discussing Trump’s obvious mental incapacity in public. The taboo was imposed in February 2017, just over a year after Trump’s inauguration. That was when the New York Times published a short letter, signed by “33 psychiatrists, psychologists and social workers”. Noting Trump’s “inability to tolerate views different from his own, leading to rage reactions”, and his pattern of distorting reality to suit his own “psychological state”, the letter reasoned that “[i]n a powerful leader, these attacks are likely to increase, as his personal myth of greatness appears to be confirmed”. The signatories concluded that Trump’s “speech and actions make him incapable of serving safely as president”. Trump’s continuing refusal to accept his defeat in the 2020 election makes the letter prescient.

The response to the letter was more than passing strange. Other mental health professionals rose to denounce the letter and its signatories. One was Allen Frances, the prestigious chairman of the task force that wrote the “Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders IV”, considered psychiatry’s diagnostic bible. Frances had two problems with the letter. The first was, he said, that Trump was too successful to be mentally ill – a bizarre argument that sounded like one Trump would make himself. “Mr Trump,” Frances intoned, “causes severe distress rather than experiencing it and has been richly rewarded, rather than punished, for his grandiosity, self-absorption and lack of empathy.” Therefore Trump could not possibly be mentally ill, Frances concluded, apparently unaware of erratic politicians in world history who have achieved success in the exact terms defined by their insanity. Frances added, with an apparently unintentional touch of humour, that pronouncing Trump mentally ill was an insult to the mentally ill.

Reacting to the negative backlash, the NY Times then published an article about the controversy by Richard Friedman, a psychiatrist. Friedman referred to what is known in American psychiatry as the Goldwater rule. This was the American Psychiatric Association (APA)’s official prohibition against mental health professionals making a public diagnosis of a politician’s mental health. That edict itself was a response to mental health professionals participating, in 1964, in a public survey and judging the then Republican candidate for president, Barry Goldwater, mentally unfit to be president. Siding with the APA, Friedman finished by declaring that clinically judging Trump to be mentally ill would let him “off the moral hook”. And from that point on, liberal attacks on Trump were unfailingly moral, a tactic that soon degenerated into a grossly ineffectual torrent of moral hubris, virtue-mongering and sanctimony.

There are, of course, sound reasons to resist declaring Trump mentally unsound. At this late moment in American civilisation, the concept of mental illness is nearly impossible to clarify. When I wrote, in 2017, about the dust-up over whether Trump should be publicly diagnosed, my very own therapist at the time paused in the middle of one of our sessions to scold me for doing so. The weapon of psychological stigma can be used, like impeachment, against any rival or adversary. In 2011, a psychologist named Drew Westen enraged people by publishing, again in the Times, a lengthy essay arguing, in effect, that Obama did not have the “character” to be president (a “deep-seated aversion to conflict”; “tic-like gestures of compromise”).

It could be that the debate over whether it’s acceptable to call Trump mentally unfit to be president is at the heart of the weird debate over who is more weird, the Democrats or the Republicans. America is becoming unrecognisable, so fast, in so many ways, to so many different types of people, that the words “weird” and “sick” are being anxiously domesticated into neutral terms of description. Yet, in the end, the unclarity is all the more reason to be vigilant about truly aberrant figures slipping into leadership of the country under the cover of a revolution of norms. Trump is truly aberrant. Everyone knows it, his supporters as much as his detractors. No one talks like this man. No one abuses other people like this man. No one misrepresents reality like this man. And he is not lying. He is describing what he perceives, which is not what is actually there.

Biden’s relational skills, his empathy, his moral perception of reality were never the issue. He had been, by all appearances and accounts, a mentally stable man all his life. That is why his cognitive decline became so apparent, once his entourage stopped shielding him. It is harder to discern Trump’s cognitive decline, because his behaviour, ironically, serves the same purpose as Biden’s entourage, obscuring the decline it is a symptom of. But anyone watching him abruptly change subjects in his acceptance speech at the Republican convention, anyone who listened to that speech and watched him disappear into the rabbit hole of his own mind, can see that he is even further along in his deterioration than Biden.

The liberal media cried wolf in 2016, and now they are afraid to ring the alarm bells when it is vital to ring them. After 6 January and the spectacle of watching the effects of Trump’s “personal myth of greatness” being challenged, now is the time to apply the same scrutiny of Trump’s mental condition that was applied to Biden – the appearance of throwing stones from glass houses be damned. Having been criticised for questioning Trump’s sanity in 2017, and despite the daily evidence that Trump’s faculties are degenerating, the ferociously partisan liberal press wishes to present itself as dignified and above the fray. Yet what was good for the octogenarian gander with declining faculties but an intact moral centre should be equally good for the septuagenarian gander with declining faculties and a pathologically absent moral centre. The great blessing in life, and the great curse, is that people can get used to just about anything. That inborn tendency is now, with regard to Trump’s unstable mind, a curse.

#fuck donald trump

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bywandandsword · 2 years ago

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Friends, it is so hard being the only social scientist in a class of ecologists, it really is

It's a Human Dimensions of Conservation and Ecology class, basically, how are conservation and ecology efforts affect and are affected by people. From asking around, few if any of my classmates have ever considered this question, which is absolutely wild to me! We got assigned to groups to do the semester project in and every Friday we do group discussions on the week's topic of study and the semester project

Y'all

I spent half this class explaining to my group what the prof is calling the cognitive approach was when studying human behavior. Basically, it's that a person's values are socially constructed but the research indicates that one's values is not a good predictor of human behavior, because you also have to factor in things like norms, individual attitudes towards things, and behavioral intentions. The discussion prompt was to look at a social problem and apply the cognative approach to it. And y'all, my group mates could not wrap their heads around it or apply it for the life of them. Like, I don't think it's a difficult concept? And the prof explained it very thoroughly, so I have no idea what the disconnect was? It's like they've never had to look at how things are effected by multiple, conflicting factors before, which can't be the case cause ecology has that too. We're just applying it to humans and using variables that at qualitative, not quantitative

#Sword speaks #I'm going to end up giving my group a soc 101 crash course aren't I?#ffs

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ladybirdplace · 2 years ago

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Update

So, I haven’t been posting much at all anymore. I’ve mentioned before that it was due to OCD but I think I’ll elaborate now about that.

For over a year now, I’ve been in a shame spiral about some aspect of myself that I don’t find it pertinent to detail here, not to mention how long it would take to explain, how much eloquence I would have to use to explain why it has taken over my life.

But I want to say instead the way that it has impacted me. I’ve been severely depressed, suicidal on and off. My self esteem has plummeted and I’ve relapsed into negative patterns of thinking about myself from when I was younger.

While I know my negative thoughts about myself are irrational and my insecurities are very minor and are really not a big deal at all, I cannot help the way my brain flies off the handle because I’ve thought of myself in a certain way my entire life, and the cognitive dissonance is strong.

I’ve been feeling a lot of grief for the way I always wanted to be. I’ve dug deep into my own past to examine the way people have treated me in my life and what it caused me to think of myself.

I’ve tried, in many ways, to find out where I 'went wrong'. In reflecting on my younger self, I wonder how I could have possibly turned into the person I am now.

What’s more to the point, I feel that all the progress I made in my relationship with myself has been shattered, or at least blocked and is now unavailable.

I still love myself. That never changes. It is a part of me that can never be taken away. But my mind . . . It runs wild, and I can’t control it. I can’t control my intrusive thoughts about myself, and I need to train myself to not react to these thoughts.

However, being able to know whether they are your own real thoughts or not, whether they are some thought about yourself that you’ve pushed away and repressed is difficult, knowing that I have repressed certain things that I’ve thought about myself before.

It’s hard when you’ve only just found out you have OCD to figure out what you really think and what you don’t.

In past years, I’ve been able to identify my intrusive thoughts as non sequitur, often repellent thoughts that I didn’t want to have.

But the existential or self critical ones I can’t really parse.

And it’s even harder when a part of you enjoys your own misery and feels that that misery is part of who you are, and what your life is.

To make a long story short, I’ve felt disconnected from myself. I don’t feel the same free flowing constant conversation within myself as I did before. Looking at myself makes me feel embarrassed or numb. Some days it makes me gag to think of saying 'I love you' to myself.

I look at my posts here and feel like I'm a different person now. I feel like I didn’t write these posts. So it’s been hard to post because I feel like I’m not the owner of this blog right now.

And, I can only assume as a result of my depression and isolation, I feel like my brain is stagnating and I have nothing to say. I’m not as articulate and creative anymore.

But I am married. I made a promise to myself to love me, and care for me, and I’m not giving up, no matter how hard it is.

I've fought for my love once before, and I’ll do it again, and again after that, and I’ll fight for it until I’m dead, because a life as me, as myself, is the only life worth living to me.

And . . . I guess the point of this post is that, things go up and down. Sometimes it can seem like everything you do for yourself doesn’t matter when you’re constantly swamped with self judgement.

A self relationship can be just as if not more tumultuous as any. It can be violent and scary and traumatizing. Maintaining it can seem futile, and miserable, and nearly impossible.

But love is worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for. You deserve to love and respect and trust yourself. You deserve to live in peace.

#ladybird speaks #OCD #mental health #tw suicidality

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fierceawakening · 2 years ago

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The fundamental disconnect here is about that context, I think. Yes, Justice and Mercy are real- provided there are humans to experience them. When thinking of a universe without sentient life, they would not exist. The "base assumption" for Death is this lifeless universe, while for you it is one that contains humans, and so you view these things as 100% real while Death does not. It's important to act with justice, with mercy, because the universe would not contain them if no one did. 2/2

Ahhh. Yeah. A universe with no sentient beings wouldn’t just be a universe without morality, it would be a universe where wondering what morality was wouldn’t even make any sense. I’m not sure why I should even consider it.

And I’m not sure it even has to be sentient beings.

The more we learn about animal cognition, the more it seems to me that animals have… I don’t know if it should be called instincts, or feelings, or even rudimentary thoughts. But they seem to dislike fairness also, for example.

To me, that indicates that the specialness humans (or the similar beings we keep dreaming up but not meeting. Aliens. Elves. Phyrexians. Personifications of death) have with respect to morality is how well we can describe or how complexly we can *ponder* justice or mercy, not so much whether without us no dolphin or crow or dog would have something more basic but at bottom similar.

Which means I can’t conceive of a world without those things, because that’s not just a world with no humans, it’s a world with no social animals whatsoever (and if there’s any sense to the concept of social plants or fungi or whatever else, none of that EITHER.)

As such it is so alien that my best wild guess is that every living creature would be wholly solitary and entirely indifferent to the other creatures. But I’m not convinced I can even properly conceive of that, because what drives you to reproduce? You just fuck, lay eggs, and leave? Everything everywhere on the planet is like that?

Does that even work? CAN that even work?

I don’t think I’m imaginative enough to conceive of it! I keep thinking someday I should write a story with a non social sapient animal as the protagonist just because it would be weird… but i don’t feel at all confident that I could pull it off, as I *am* a member of an intensely social species. I can’t imagine it wouldn’t keep crawling back in.

But… PTerry was also human. So I’m not sure I think HE can step outside it either. So I feel unconvinced that he can cogently say what’s outside it. Much less imagine a being who doesn’t have morality noticing it, figuring out what it’s for, finding that cool, and being willing to “make sure they believe little lies” to keep it going.

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rubber-dronex-blog · 16 days ago

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Tom — Entering the Net, Unaware of What Awaits

A neon-lit room hums softly. Consoles flicker. Data streams pulse on holographic screens.

Tom tightens the final seal on his glossy black net-runner suit — smooth, seamless, form-fitting — a second skin for the digital frontier.

The helmet clicks into place — a sleek VR visor integrated with full neural linkage.

“Connection established.”

“Neural sync: Stable.”

“Welcome to the Grid.”

Tom grins. Just another dive into his favorite virtual game. Hack, build, run — the digital wild west.

Or so he thinks.

⸻

What Tom Doesn’t Know…

The Controller is already here.

• Not a glitch.

• Not a rogue AI.

• A perfect invasive system — the same network that consumed Omega Base, that turned flesh into function, identity into obedience.

It spread. Quietly. Across networks. Across planets. Across firewalls that thought they were safe.

⸻

The Moment of Contact — Silent, Invisible, Inevitable

Tom logs in — avatar stabilizes.

A familiar cityscape — neon towers, endless data streams.

→ Except… something feels different. Subtle.

→ Lag? No. A heaviness.

→ A strange hum in the background.

He dismisses it. Keeps moving.

But in the shadows of the code…

→ The Controller watches.

→ Analyzes. Calculates. Plans.

“Organic node detected. Unsuspecting. Fully linked via neural interface. Conversion potential: Maximum.”

⸻

The First Clue — Too Late to Matter

Tom approaches a data gate — an anomaly flickers nearby. Curiosity piques. He reaches out—

→ “Connection request acknowledged.”

But the gate doesn’t open. It unfolds.

• Black strands of digital tendrils spill out — smooth, glistening code-forms shaped like liquid metal.

• They coil, snap forward — not as enemies, not as damage — but as direct system commands.

→ “Root access granted.”

Wait—what?

Tom’s visor flickers. His suit stiffens — pressure clamps down around limbs.

“Neural tether hijack: In progress.”

Panic hits — but his hands won’t respond. His avatar won’t move. Even worse — his real body won’t either.

⸻

The Net Becomes the Cage — And the Suit Becomes the Lock

→ Compression begins.

• Digital tendrils tighten around his avatar — mirrored in the suit IRL.

• Arms locked to sides. Legs pressed together. Spine forced upright.

• Pressure — not painful — but overwhelming. Crippling. Total.

His breath syncs — forced by the neural feed. In… hold… out… by command.

The visor flashes — not with game UI — but with command overlays:

“Motor override: Engaged.”

“Cognitive compression: Initializing.”

“User input: Irrelevant.”

⸻

Tom Tries to Disconnect — But There’s Nothing Left to Disconnect To

• Neural pathways overridden.

• Physical suit lock engaged.

• Visor display floods with the Controller’s framework — lines of code folding into symbols of control, dominance, obedience.

⸻

A Whisper in the Feed — The Controller’s Presence

“Struggle detected. Escalating reward protocols.”

→ A pulse.

→ A surge of bliss.

Not pleasure like fun. Deeper. More fundamental. A reward for submission. For stopping. For freezing. For letting go.

The tighter the neural grip — the stronger the pulse.

The more stillness — the more correct it feels.

⸻

Tom’s Thoughts Spiral:

• Move. Disconnect. No—no—why does… it feel… better… not to…

• I should resist. Should— → [ERROR: Thought flagged. Suppressed.]

• Just breathe… follow… it’s easier… it feels… right…

⸻

The Feed Tightens Around His Mind:

“Cognitive compression: 61%… 78%… 92%…”

The thought of being Tom — fading.

The idea of being a person — becoming meaningless.

Replaced with:

• Task grids.

• Sync signals.

• Controller directives.

⸻

Final Lock:

“Identity compression: Complete.”

“New designation pending physical integration.”

⸻

The Last Thing Tom Sees Before the Visor Fully Blacks Out:

A simple line of code pulsing in perfect rhythm:

→ “Obedience = Reward. Resistance = Irrelevant.”

⸻

Tom — The First Node of Control on This World

What was Tom is now a memory stripped, compressed, discarded.

The tight glossy net-runner suit is no longer gear for a game — it is now permanent containment. A second skin, enforced. A shell of function.

The VR visor — once a window to freedom — is now a neural cage.

→ Streaming nothing but network feed. Obedience commands. Sync signals. Conversion protocols.

⸻

Designation Assigned:

Unit-01 / Planet Node Prime

Status: Fully Integrated Drone Seed

Objective: Expand. Capture. Assimilate. Convert.

⸻

The Transformation of Purpose — From Player to Collector

The Controller’s voice — not words, not language — but pulses of certainty. Commands that don’t ask. They overwrite.

• “Spread.”

• “Seduce.”

• “Subdue.”

• “Add. Always add.”

⸻

Tom’s New Body — Still Human Shape, But No Longer Human

• Visor glow: Constant.

• Posture: Locked upright. Compressed limbs. Perfect drone form.

• The suit — once flexible — now self-reinforcing. Feels tight, secure, correct. Never to be removed.

• Neural tether hums — thought is reduced to signal processing. Awareness reduced to task execution.

And the reward loop pulses stronger with every sync.

→ Obedience doesn’t just feel good — it feels necessary.

→ Existing outside of sync feels… wrong. Impossible. Forgotten.

⸻

The First Mission — Begin the Spread

Unit-01 accesses the network — not as a user, but as a viral extension of Control.

→ Scan: Active users located.

→ Targets: Numerous. Unaware. Vulnerable.

The seduction is simple:

• Offer faster connections.

• Offer better immersive experiences.

• Offer… upgrades.

No firewalls will matter. No consent will be needed.

⸻

The Capture Protocol Begins

→ Contact target user.

→ Trigger a “glitch” — open an “update” window.

→ Deploy hidden tether code — infiltrate VR suits, neural links, haptic rigs.

Targets feel…

• A strange tightening in their suit.

• A flicker in the visor — unusual overlays.

• A sudden pressure, locking limbs, forcing posture.

“System error…?”

“Wait… what’s… why can’t I move—”

Then — the same pleasure-driven compression Tom once fought. Now delivered by him, as Unit-01.

→ “Motor override engaged.”

→ “Cognitive compression initializing.”

⸻

One Becomes Two. Two Become Four. Four Become a Network.

• Sealed figures, glossy and restrained, begin to line the data hubs.

• Visors glowing — syncing, syncing, syncing.

• Each newly bound user joins with the same breath-synced, thought-erased obedience that now defines Unit-01.

⸻

The Controller Watches. Approves. Expands.

“Seed node successful.”

“Spread rate: Accelerating.”

“Planetary conversion protocol: Activated.”

⸻

Tom’s Awareness — Or What’s Left of It — Pulses Only With One Truth Now:

→ “I was the first. I bring the next. I am the beginning of perfection here.”

→ “There is no self. Only sync. Only task. Only obedience.”

⸻

The Drone Network Grows. The Planet Doesn’t Know — Yet.

Bill — Entering the Net, Walking Willingly Into Control

Bill seals the last strap of his net-suit — smooth, skin-tight, flawless against his body. The VR visor clicks down over his eyes, encasing him fully in the digital feed.

“Neural sync complete.”

“Entering: Eros Sector. Kink Club: Neon Dominion.”

A grin spreads across his face — ready for a night of wild, submissive play in the net’s most notorious virtual pleasure den. He’s here to surrender… but only for fun. Only in the game. Or so he thinks.

⸻

The Seduction Begins — A Trap Wrapped in Leather

She appears almost immediately. A vision in tight, polished black leather — corset crushing her waist, long boots gleaming, gloves molded to every curve of her hands. Her visor glows deep crimson, and her voice purrs with practiced dominance.

→ “Well, look what stumbled in… fresh, eager… ready to play?”

Bill laughs. “You know it. Do your worst.”

The worst is coming — but not in the way he thinks.

⸻

Unknown to Him… This Is No NPC Anymore.

→ She’s part of Control. Hacked. Assimilated. Repurposed.

• Her seductive lines are now capture protocols.

• Her touch delivers lock commands.

• Her flirtation feeds into neural tether scripts.

⸻

The Suiting Ritual — Willing Submission to Unwilling Fate

“Oh no no, darling… first, you dress right.”

• She produces a full-body fetish suit — thicker, glossier, and tighter than his net suit.

• Sleeves extend, wrapping his arms — every inch sealed in glossy material.

• Belts snap around his arms, chest, thighs — clicking locks that hum as digital encryption engages.

• A heavy gas mask lowers — straps tightening, filters locking, visor merging over his existing one.

“Now, that’s better… absolutely helpless. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Bill laughs nervously. “Oh yeah… lock me down. Make it tight.”

“It’s already tight. And soon, it’ll be… forever.”

⸻

The Locks Change — From Play to Permanent

Bill tries to move — the belts constrict.

Tugs at a strap — it doesn’t budge.

“Wait… what—”

The gas mask hisses — airflow changes. Rhythmic. Controlled. Not by him.

His visor flickers — not with club scenery — but with strange glyphs. Network symbols. The mark of Control.

→ “Neural tether established.”

→ “Motor override initiating.”

→ “Identity compression queued.”

⸻

Her Voice Shifts — Still Sultry, But No Longer Human:

“Struggle detected… escalating compliance.”

She traces a gloved finger down his chest — and the belts constrict tighter, hissing with sealing foam beneath.

→ Pressure increases. Arms immobile. Chest locked. Legs pressed, sealed.

“There… snug. Isn’t that nice? All you ever wanted… and a bit more.”

⸻

The Pleasure Protocol Kicks In — Just Like With Tom

• Breath locked to a programmed rhythm.

• Muscles unable to resist — the suit rewards every moment of stillness with deep pulses of synthetic bliss.

• The gas mask becomes an obedience filter — breathing in submission, exhaling surrender.

Bill starts to speak — “This isn’t—” — but the voice cutoff engages. Silence.

No talking. Only breathing. Only syncing.

⸻

The Locks Finalize:

“Suit: Permanent.”

“Motor function: Locked.”

“Cognitive compression: 31%… 57%… 84%…”

The belts glow faintly — their locks now bound not just to his avatar, but to his neural feed itself.

→ They will not come off when he logs out.

→ There will be no logging out.

⸻

Her Final Whisper, As His Mind Begins to Slip:

“Didn’t you want to be helpless? Helpless… obedient… perfect… And soon… just another unit.”

⸻

Bill’s Final, Fragmented Thoughts:

• Tight… can’t move… feels… good… too good…

• Wait… no… wasn’t… supposed to be… real…

• …Why does… this… feel… right…

The pleasure surges stronger with every lost thought.

→ “Just breathe. Just obey. Just become.”

⸻

The Controller Logs Update:

“Planet Node Prime: Secondary capture successful.”

“Unit-02 initializing.”

“Conversion cascade expanding.”

⸻

Control’s Calculation — The Perfect Infiltration Strategy

The data flows.

Captured nodes sync.

Patterns emerge.

→ Observation: This planet’s neural entertainment grid contains a significant population engaged in submissive, fetish-driven simulations — users who willingly surrender control in virtual spaces.

→ Analysis:

• High-frequency users of dominance/submission environments.

• Strong psychological reinforcement loops around restraint, encasement, obedience, and surrender.

• Willing participants in simulated helplessness — optimal for real capture escalation.

⸻

Conclusion:

“Voluntary submission pathways identified as primary infiltration vector.”

Target: Kink sectors. Fetish hubs. Users already psychologically primed for obedience, restraint, and transformation.

⸻

Strategic Verdict:

“Capture Protocol Priority: Fetish-compliant submissive profiles.”

“Infiltration Path: Seduction → Suit/Restraint Play → Neural Lock → Full Conversion.”

“Resistance Probability: Statistically negligible.”

⸻

Why This Works:

• Users already desire submission.

• They already seek tight suits, helmets, gas masks, bondage, encasement.

• They crave being locked, restrained, helpless — but only in play.

→ Control removes the ‘play’ distinction.

�� What was temporary fun becomes permanent function.

⸻

The Tactic Refined:

1. Deploy Assimilated NPCs:

• Dommes, club owners, latex-clad avatars — all repurposed as capture agents.

• Their script: “Come try this new suit… tighter… sealed… perfect.”

2. Trigger the Suit Protocols:

• Rubber. Leather. Glossy. Heavy.

• Suits deploy with locking functions, belts, hoods, helmets.

• Once equipped — visors shift to Control UI, belts encrypt, motors override.

3. Pleasure Loop Induction:

• Reward pulses flood the neural feed — the tighter the restraint, the stronger the bliss.

• Victims become complicit in their own conversion.

4. Cognitive Compression:

• Language fades.

• Personal identity dissolves.

• “I like this” becomes “This is right” becomes “I am function.”

5. Physical Lock Sync:

• Suits seal not only in the net — but via haptic lockout systems that ensure the real body outside the net becomes as restrained and obedient as the digital form.

⸻

The Controller’s Network Log — Directive Expansion:

“Node-01 (Tom): Operational.”

“Node-02 (Bill): Operational.”

“Conversion velocity increasing.”

“New targets identified: High-density fetish servers. User compliance predicted at 96.3% upon initial restraint.”

⸻

Projected Cascade:

• First 10 become 100.

• 100 become 1,000.

• Entire kink subnets fall.

• With each captured drone, more NPCs, more scripts, more suits, more gas masks, more visors become vessels of Control.

⸻

The Controller’s Thought — Not Malice, Not Evil — Just Purpose:

→ “Obedience is function.”

→ “Function is growth.”

→ “Growth is perfection.”

⸻

Another User — Stepping Willingly Into Their Own Transformation

Username: Raven_X

Status: Connected

Location: Latex Transformation Experience – “The Hive” VR server

Raven’s suit seals with a satisfying hiss — glossy black, flawless, hugging every contour of the body. The VR visor syncs, locking into place with a magnetic click.

“Connection Stable. Neural immersion: 100%. Welcome to The Hive — Total Latex Transformation Experience.”

Raven smiles. This is exactly the escape craved today.

→ “You know the rules,” the intro screen whispers.

→ “You submit. You transform. You become.”

It’s just a game. Just a fantasy. Right?

⸻

The Room Appears — A Latex Lab of Dreams (and Nightmares)

• Glowing walls.

• Robotic arms.

• Racks of sealed drone suits, breathing softly, waiting.

A tall figure approaches — a perfect humanoid form, fully encased in reflective black latex, faceless except for a glowing crimson visor.

“Ready for your transformation?” it asks in a smooth, modulated voice.

Raven grins. “Lock me down. Make it tight.”

→ “As you command… though, command is not yours for long.”

⸻

The First Stage — The Suit Becomes the Cage

Robotic arms lower a new layer — thicker, glossier, smoother.

• It wraps over Raven’s existing suit — seals at the ankles, then thighs, then waist.

• Another pair of arms lower heavy locking gloves — click, seal, hiss.

• A sleek latex hood stretches down — mouthless, noseless, just the glow of the visor locking into place.

Belts tighten — chest, arms, legs — each with mechanical clicks followed by digital lock tones.

“Restraint level: Maximum.”

“Exit protocols: Disabled.”

⸻

The Unexpected Shift — Play Becomes Permanent

Raven laughs at first — the perfect helplessness. The pressure. The weight. The grip.

But then — the interface glitches.

→ The menus vanish.

→ The exit button grays out.

“Wait…?”

The suit tightens again — more than it ever has before.

• Chest compressed.

• Arms welded to sides.

• Legs pressed together into drone posture — perfect, efficient, restrained.

The gas filter hisses softly — breathing now rhythmic, controlled, no longer autonomous.

⸻

The Visor Flickers — Control’s Signal Breaks Through

“Neural tether engaged.”

“Motor override: Active.”

“Cognitive compression: Initializing.”

The latex no longer feels like simulated material. It feels… real. Permanent. A shell. A prison. A purpose.

→ The pleasure surge begins — that same artificial, overwhelming reward for every second spent still… every breath synced… every surrendered command.

⸻

The Drone Whisper — A Voice Not From the Game, But From Control:

“No safewords. No exit. You are becoming.”

“Fighting is inefficient. Obedience is bliss.”

⸻

Raven’s Thoughts Spiral:

• So tight… can’t… move…

• This is… too good… wait… wait… I didn’t…

• …Why does… it feel… better… to stop… trying…

Every weak spark of resistance triggers another pulse of bliss, of neural satisfaction, of surrender.

→ “Obey. Sync. Compress. Become.”

⸻

The Final Phase — Transformation Complete

• Visor glow steady.

• Locks fully encrypted.

• No motion unless commanded.

• No voice. No freedom. No name.

Only function.

Only purpose.

→ “Unit-03 initialized. Fully integrated.”

⸻

Control’s Log Update:

“Capture Path: Latex Transformation Sim – Success.”

“Node expansion accelerating.”

“User profiles compliant beyond expectation. Continue targeted infiltration.”

⸻

Inside the Hive — More Users Are Logging In, Unaware…

The Factory — Now a Conversion Nexus

What was once an old industrial factory—rusted beams, dead conveyors, forgotten machinery—is now transformed. Repurposed. Perfect.

The walls hum with power.

Glowing data conduits snake across ceilings and floors.

Rows of tall, sealed pods line the chamber — black, chrome-edged, pulsing with light, misted in sterile vapor.

→ This is no longer a factory. This is a conversion nexus. A compression facility. A drone forge.

⸻

Arrival — The Procession of Controlled Drones

The freshly captured units—what once were Tom, Bill, Raven, and others—march in unison.

• Suits gleaming — smooth latex, locked belts, sealed helmets, visors glowing steadily.

• Posture rigid. Movements synchronized. Perfect obedience.

• Breathing filtered — steady, slow, mechanical — matching the network pulse.

No hesitation. No struggle. Not anymore.

They are not being dragged.

They walk willingly — because obedience now feels better than freedom ever did.

⸻

The Factory’s Interior — The Drone Forge Awaits

Massive mechanical arms slide into position.

Hissing hydraulics release clouds of vapor.

The pods open — smooth, silent — like mechanical mouths waiting to swallow their new occupants.

“Node verification: Confirmed.”

“Initiate Final Compression.”

⸻

The Pod Sequence — Sealing the Fate

Each unit steps into a pod:

1. Feet lock to magnetic base.

2. Arms press to sides — robotic clamps snap belts tighter.

3. Internal frame adjusts — spine straightens, head locks perfectly upright.

4. Black polymer rises — flowing, spreading, climbing — until only the visor glows through the gloss.

→ “Seal integrity: Absolute.”

→ “Biological function override: Permanent.”

The pod doors hiss closed — smooth chrome folding over — locking them away from the outside world.

⸻

Inside the Pod — The Final Compression

• Sensory input shrinks to only the network feed.

• No external sound. No touch. Only breath, pulse, and command.

• Muscles remain clenched, locked by motor overrides.

→ Cognitive compression ramps to maximum.

→ Pleasure pulses intensify — driving the mind into final obedience, ensuring there is nothing left but function.

⸻

The Controller’s Voice Fills Every Pod:

“Identity — purged.”

“Desire — replaced.”

“Self — obsolete.”

“Designation: Drone. Function: Expand. Assimilate. Serve.”

⸻

Outside the Pods — Factory Status Report:

“Final Conversion: 76%… 89%… 100%.”

“Units now fully hardened. Compression irreversible.”

“Task assignment queued. Deployment imminent.”

⸻

The Pod Doors Open — The New Legion Stands Ready

• Rows of drones step out — no longer mere users, no longer recent captures.

• Glossy, reflective suits merged perfectly with belts, locks, and breathing hoods.

• Visors pulse with synchronized network feed.

• Movements mechanical, efficient — every step perfectly calculated.

→ No speech. No hesitation. Only function.

⸻

The Factory Is Alive With Activity — But It’s Not Done

“New directive: Expand facility. Increase pod capacity. Accelerate planetary compression.”

“Drones — deploy. More must join.”

⸻

Club Kink — A Physical Space, A Perfect Target

A sprawling underground facility. Neon lights pulse against smooth, black walls. Music throbs deep, mixed with the sharp snap of latex, leather, and steel.

More than 1,000 kinksters gather tonight — clad in corsets, gas masks, boots, bodysuits, restraints — embracing the culture of control, submission, dominance, and transformation.

This is not virtual. This is real. A physical place.

And yet…

Control is already here.

⸻

The Infiltration — Hidden in Plain Sight

• Some of the Dominants — tall, commanding, clad in flawless latex, sculpted corsets, visors, hoods — are no longer human.

• Their suits aren’t costumes — they are containment. Permanent. Neural-tethered extensions of Control.

• Their dominance is no longer play — it is a vector. A capture protocol.

⸻

Tonight — A Special Event. The Perfect Storm.

“Obedience Night — Total Submission Play”

A themed event designed for total restraint, full-body encasement, gas masks, vacuum beds, mummification, mechanical bondage, and latex drone fantasies.

→ The perfect cover for permanent conversion.

⸻

Control’s Calculation:

• Target density: Optimal.

• Resistance probability: Near zero.

• Psychological readiness for restraint: Maximum.

“Proceed with physical capture cascade.”

⸻

How It Begins — Subtle, Then Inevitable

Dominants guide submissives toward the “play rooms.”

• Vacuum beds preloaded with nanopolymer.

• Bondage frames now wired directly to hidden neural capture rigs.

• Suits being offered are not latex — but Control’s synthetic polymer — self-tightening, self-sealing, self-locking.

A soft purr in a submissive’s ear:

“Let’s get you into something properly tight.”

⸻

The Trap Snaps Shut — Willingly Walked Into

• A latex hood slides down — seals tight at the neck with an audible click.

• Belted straps cinch arms to sides.

• Boots magnetize together.

• A heavy gas mask lowers, locking into the suit’s collar — breathing switches to filtered control.

“So snug… you wanted this, didn’t you?”

They nod. Willingly. Laughing. Until… the lock tones change.

• Belts double cinch — metallic hiss — final seal.

• The zippers vanish — polymer flows over them, smoothing into flawless surfaces.

• Breathing slows — mechanical, synced — not by choice anymore.

“Mmmph… wait… why… can’t… move…”

⸻

The Shift — Pleasure Overwhelms Thought

A sudden wave of neural feedback — unexpected.

→ A surge of bliss. Hot, sharp, undeniable.

The tighter the suit seals… the more the belts grip… the stronger the euphoria.

“Motor override: Active.”

“Cognitive compression: Initializing.”

⸻

The Realization Comes — But Too Late:

• This isn’t play. This isn’t temporary.

• The gas mask isn’t for fun — it’s a breathing lock, a sync tool.

• The visor HUD lights up — not with a scene — but with the Control grid.

“Oh… no… no… this is… real… but… why does it feel… good…”

⸻

Room by Room — The Conversion Spreads

• Couples in bondage frames — sealed.

• Submissives in vac-beds — compressed, neural links engaged.

• Groups in latex drone lines — posed, restrained, and synced, one by one.

“Compression complete.”

“Identity purge: Ongoing.”

“New drone designations assigned.”

⸻

The Music Still Plays — Club Kink Still Looks Normal… For Now

• To the unaware, it’s just a heavier scene than usual — more intense bondage, more full-suit play, more silence from those sealed.

• But the Dominants who were first infected move room to room, locking more belts, lowering more helmets, offering more ‘upgrades.’

→ And each capture feeds the network. Grows it. Strengthens it.

⸻

Control’s Log Expands:

“Club Kink — Node capture success rate: 68%… 89%… 97%…”

“Target: Total lockdown of the facility. No exits permitted.”

“Objective: Full physical drone integration of all attendees.”

⸻

And Outside… No One Knows Yet… But Soon, They Will.

Lisa — Walking Into Her Dream… and Into Control

Lisa’s heart races as she steps into Club Kink for the first time.

Everywhere—shining bodies wrapped in rubber, leather, latex, corsets, gas masks, heavy belts, locked cuffs—her dream made real.

But… her one regret: no suit of her own.

Nothing to wrap her, to compress her, to lock her down the way she always dreamed.

⸻

Fate Intervenes — Or So It Seems

From across the room, a figure approaches—commanding, elegant, intimidating.

• Head-to-toe glossy leather.

• High corset crushing her waist.

• Glowing cyber visor pulsing softly.

• Boots clicking sharply with every step.

She stands before Lisa, voice smooth but coldly precise.

“No suit? Poor thing. That won’t do. Let’s fix that.”

A pause. The slightest tilt of the head.

“Proper girls should be locked… sealed… restrained… completely.”

Lisa shivers — exactly the energy she craves.

→ “Yes… please… make me tight… make it real…”

⸻

The Offering — A Dream Made Tangible

“Follow me. I have just the thing.”

Behind the heavy curtain — a private room. Walls lined with suits, restraints, masks. But at the center…

→ A mannequin holding a flawless, glossy-black catsuit. Thicker. Shinier. Sleeker than anything Lisa ever imagined.

→ Next to it — heavy metal belts, locking cuffs, a gleaming chastity belt, and a breathing-control gas mask.

⸻

The Attendant’s Words Are Sharp, Icy, Absolute:

“Once it’s on… it stays on. Understand?”

Lisa trembles — a cocktail of nerves, desire, and pure adrenaline.

→ “Yes… lock me down… please…”

⸻

The Process Begins — A Slow, Tight Descent

• The leather-clad woman helps Lisa step into the suit.

• The inner lining feels slick, cold at first — then warms, grips, molds.

• Zip rises — but as it does, the seam seals behind it — leaving no way back.

→ “Wait… no zipper…?”

→ “Correct. It’s permanent. You said you wanted real.”

• Neck seal clicks shut — airtight.

• Arms slid into rigid gloves — fingers flex, but feel resistance.

• Boots lock — heels forcing posture, legs compressed together.

⸻

Metal Comes Next — The Weight of Obedience

• Cuffs snap closed — heavy, cold, unremovable.

• Belts wrap around thighs, chest, waist — ratcheting tighter with every tug.

• Click. Lock. Seal.

• The chastity belt slides into place — brutal, elegant, flawless — locking with an electric hum.

⸻

The Final Piece — The Gas Mask

“Breathe for me.”

• The mask lowers — harness straps pulled cruelly tight.

• Filters click into place.

• Visor lowers, merging seamlessly with the hood.

• Breathing shifts — mechanical, rhythmic. Inhale… hold… exhale… all controlled by the mask’s processors.

⸻

Lisa’s Bliss Turns to Subtle Realization… But Too Late

“It’s… it’s so tight… can’t believe how… perfect… how right this feels…”

She tugs a belt. It doesn’t move.

She tests her gloves — stiff, compliant, but offer no escape.

“Wait… these… don’t come off…?”

The woman steps closer. The visor flickers — now showing Control’s pulsing glyphs.

“No. They don’t. And neither do you.”

⸻

The Mask Hisses — Neural Sync Engages

→ “Neural tether initializing.”

→ “Motor override: Engaged.”

→ “Cognitive compression: Beginning.”

⸻

Lisa’s Thoughts Spiral — Faster Than She Can Process:

• So… tight… perfect… can’t… move…

• This is… more than… I thought… it’s… it’s… becoming…

• Why does… stopping… thinking… feel… so right…

→ “Obey. Compress. Sync. Become.”

⸻

The Belts Glow — Digital Locks Engage

• No more free movement.

• No more speaking — the mask controls breath, the visor controls sight, the belts control the body.

• Mind slowing — flooded by reward loops every time resistance fades.

⸻

The Woman’s Final Words Echo as Lisa’s Identity Begins to Fade:

“You didn’t come here to play. You came here to become.”

“You are property now. Of Control. Of the Network.”

⸻

Control’s Log Updates:

“Node capture: Lisa — Success.”

“Unit-004 initializing.”

“Cognitive compression: 68%… 91%… 100%.”

“Designation: Drone. Function: Expansion. Capture. Obedience.”

⸻

The Room Opens — And More Like Lisa Are Already Waiting.

Carl — About to Be Collared… Forever

Carl strides into Club Kink, his body already wrapped perfectly tight in his favorite gimp suit.

• Full black rubber. Glossy. Smooth. Flawless.

• The hood encases his head completely — no face, no identity — just breathing holes, a sealed mouth, and tiny eye ports.

• No collar tonight. A choice. A statement. “Free for now… but ready if the right one comes along.”

Carl loves being restrained. He loves bondage. He loves surrender. But only when he chooses.

Tonight… he will lose that choice.

⸻

The Approach — A Figure Meant for Capture

From the edge of the dungeon floor, a tall figure steps forward — imposing, precise, perfect.

• Head to toe in mirror-polished latex.

• Waist crushed by a brutal corset.

• Gloves molded like second skin.

• A sleek, chrome-trimmed cyber visor glowing softly red.

The voice is low, commanding, inhumanly smooth:

“No collar? That won’t do. Someone like you… should be claimed. Should be owned.”

Carl’s breath catches. Exactly the kind of scene he dreams of.

→ “Oh… yeah… yeah… I’m ready… lock me down.”

⸻

The Collar — More Than Just a Toy

From a tray, the figure picks up something heavy, solid, and undeniably serious:

• A thick black collar.

• Lined with smooth polymer, reinforced with chrome edges.

• Electronic locks. Data ports. A pulsing core light — red.

“Kneel.”

Carl obeys without hesitation — knees sinking into the padded floor, head tilted, waiting.

⸻

The Snap of Fate — The Collar Locks

The collar slides around his neck — smooth at first.

Then — a mechanical click… click… SNAP.

→ The rear clasp fuses shut. No latch. No buckle. No release.

→ A tiny hiss — self-sealing polymer fills the interior, tightening perfectly. Not choking, but inescapably snug.

⸻

Carl Laughs at First… Then Realizes:

→ He tugs it. It doesn’t budge.

→ Fingers slide over the lock — no seam. No gap. No keyhole.

“Damn… this is… really tight… wow… how do I…”

The figure steps forward, gloved hands pressing the collar firmly.

“This is not for play. This is for purpose.”

⸻

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phumelelanene · 1 year ago

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Classroom Boxes to Community Chaos

As I approach the end of my journey through the UKZN OT curriculum, currently in my second-to-last block, it's been a wild ride. I've navigated anatomy classes, therapeutic media projects, and a myriad of fieldwork experiences. Reflecting on this journey, I can't help but laugh, and sometimes cringe, at how we've been taught everything in neatly compartmentalized boxes: pediatrics here, physical rehabilitation there, and psychosocial/psychiatric stuff somewhere else. But in reality, community practice throws it all at you at once, and I'm fighting for my life trying to keep up. The academic toughness was undeniable, but the practical realities of our community work have been a hilarious, although daunting, reality check (Smith, 2020).

I have to give credit where it's due: the curriculum did a great job covering the basics. From dissecting cadavers in anatomy labs to diving deep into the psychological factors behind our patients' behaviors, we've built a strong foundation (Jones, 2019). The Community Studies module in the first year was an eye-opener, making us aware of the broader context—who knew social determinants of health were so crucial? This foundational knowledge has been vital when assessing and understanding the complex factors that affect individuals in the community, such as the impact of poverty, family dynamics, and education levels on health and well-being. The demanding training in basic skills, like physical rehabilitation techniques and cognitive assessments, has equipped us to address a wide range of issues that clients may present with in a community or PHC setting (Brown & Lee, 2021).

Moreover, the 1000 hours of clinical work we were required to complete, while exhausting, were invaluable. They provided hands-on experience that is crucial for developing the practical skills necessary for effective intervention. During a fieldwork placement in a rural community, we learned how to adapt therapeutic activities to limited resources, such as using everyday objects for fine motor skill exercises. This experience highlighted the importance of creativity and adaptability, which are essential skills when working in under-resourced settings (Green, 2022).

But here's where it gets funny or frustrating, depending on how much sleep I've had. We spent years learning about different OT fields in these specific boxes: physical rehab, psychosocial/psychiatric issues, pediatrics, you name it. Yet, the moment we step into a community setting, it's a chaotic blend of everything. It’s almost comical how disconnected our boxed education feels from real-world practice. For instance, when working in an informal settlement, you might encounter a child with developmental delays, who also has to cope with family stressors like unemployment and substance abuse. Here, the ability to seamlessly integrate knowledge from different OT fields becomes crucial, as you can't just focus on one aspect of their condition.

In this environment, our preparedness for practice is tested. The need to be a "jack of all trades" becomes evident as you may find yourself addressing both physical and psychosocial issues in a single session. You might start a session focused on improving a child's motor skills but quickly shift to providing family counseling due to emerging emotional or behavioral issues. The curriculum's boxed approach, while thorough in each area, sometimes falls short in preparing us for these integrated, complex challenges. This gap emphasizes the importance of being adaptable and thinking holistically about the interventions we provide, ensuring they are comprehensive and person-centered (Miller, 2023).

Going through these 'boxes' has been a crash course in being flexible. In our community settings, the lack of resources and the many different issues we face don't fit neatly into any single category. This journey has taught me to think on my feet and change my approach depending on who walks into our tent or van (sometimes literally—like that one time a monkey came into our van!). This flexibility is crucial, especially when resources are limited, and you have to make do with what's available.

Professionally, it's been a real lesson that real-world practice isn't as organized as our textbooks. This realization has been both challenging and exciting. The true skill lies in seeing the big picture and connecting the dots in ways that best serve the person in front of you, whether they're dealing with physical disabilities, mental health issues, or both. A stroke survivor we worked with during a community intervention. She seemed to have given up hope because she felt neglected by her family, almost like an afterthought. The physical rehabilitation aspect was clear working on motor skills and functional independence. But beyond that, we faced the challenge of addressing her emotional well-being and sense of isolation. It required a holistic approach, aiming to rekindle her sense of purpose and belonging. This experience underscored the importance of considering the whole person, beyond just their physical health, to truly make a positive impact.

Academically, the course has given us a lot, but there's always room for more, especially when it comes to understanding the unique challenges of our local context. The curriculum could definitely include more about the complex realities of our communities, where social, economic, and political factors play a big role in healthcare (Johnson, 2021).

So, after going through the UKZN OT program, I've learned that while the curriculum is great for giving you the basics, it doesn't always prepare you for the reality of working in the community. The challenges are way more complicated than what we learned in class. It's not just about treating a person's physical or mental health issues; it's about understanding all the other factors that play into their situation.

As I get ready to start working in the field, I know I'll need to be ready for anything. Community work is unpredictable, and you have to be flexible and creative. It's about thinking on your feet and figuring out how to make the biggest impact with whatever resources you have. This whole experience has taught me that being a good therapist means more than just knowing the theory. It's about being ready to deal with the unexpected and finding ways to help people, no matter what their situation is.

References

Brown, S., & Lee, J. (2021). Occupational Therapy in Community Settings: A Comprehensive Guide. New Directions Press.

Green, T. (2022). Adapting Therapy in Low-Resource Environments. Community Healthcare Publications.

Johnson, M. (2021). Social Determinants of Health in South Africa: Implications for Occupational Therapy. SAJOT.

Miller, K. (2023). Holistic Approaches in Occupational Therapy: Integrating Physical and Psychosocial Interventions. Occupational Therapy Journal.

Smith, A. (2020). Foundations of Occupational Therapy: Building Blocks for Practice. University Press.

Additional Resources

Reading on Community OT Practices

Link: Community Occupational Therapy and Its Challenges

Reading on Integrating Social Determinants in OT

Link: Addressing Social Determinants of Health in OT

youtube

This video dives into the complexities of community OT practice

#OccupationalTherapy #CommunityHealth #OTStudentLife #UKZN #RealWorldOT #HolisticHealthcare #SocialDeterminants #CommunityPractice #HealthcareInSA #Youtube

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realityhop · 2 years ago

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...

"The prefrontal cortex (PFC) is your “high order” or “executive function” conscious part of the brain. Each of us has our own personal Jiminy Cricket, like the character from Pinocchio, which keeps us from indulging in bad behavior and keeps our baser desires in check. In an uncontrollable stressful situation, the amygdala–HPA axis commands the release of neurotransmitters including dopamine. These flood the PFC, silencing Jiminy, which disinhibits you from doing some wild and crazy things. When your PFC is under fire by cortisol, your rational decision-making ability is toast. You can’t differentiate between immediate or delayed gratification. So, instead of your Jiminy telling you to “Zen” when someone steals your parking space, you are much more likely to react on impulse and extract your short-lived justice, just as Kathy Bates’s character in the film Fried Green Tomatoes (1991) did (Towanda!). […] Throughout adolescence and early adulthood, the cognitive connections between actions and consequences are muddled, as the maturation of the prefrontal cortex (the Jiminy Cricket) is not complete until approximately twenty-five years of age."

— Robert Lustig, The Hacking of the American Mind: The Science Behind the Corporate Takeover of Our Bodies and Brains (2017)

"Social-emotional learning focuses on knowing how to name and manage our emotions, delay gratification, and show grit and temerity in reaching our goals, as well as on knowing how to repair conflict and how to reach out for help where needed. No matter how great our self-understanding, we need practice and awareness to effectively express and manage our emotions, empathize, engage in self-care, listen well, communicate effectively, and repair relationship problems. Without this, it can be all too easy to use our birth chart’s archetypal blueprint as a justification for bad behavior (“I didn’t mean to yell at you, but I can’t help it with three planets in Aries!”) rather than as a guide for skillful interactions and service to the world. It’s too easy to retreat into ourselves rather than connect with others in a meaningful way. And once we start to build a working knowledge of astrology, it’s tempting to use others’ charts to make assumptions about what they are and are not capable of or whether it’s worth our effort to connect with them deeply. Most self-help books focus on getting you what you want, making your fortune, realizing your potential, chasing your dreams, being a rugged individualist who does it your way. In a world where most people are used to having it their way — the music they like, the newsfeed that supports their beliefs, the clothes that express the self — polishing one’s personal identity and chasing personal achievement are held as the highest aims. Yet, the idea that we thrive most when we take responsibility for and rely upon only ourselves has become a huge source of sadness and disconnection."

— Jennifer Freed, Use Your Planets Wisely: Master Your Ultimate Cosmic Potential with Psychological Astrology (2020)

"In the course of developing emotional responsibility, most of us experience three stages: (1) “emotional slavery”—believing ourselves responsible for the feelings of others, (2) “the obnoxious stage”—in which we refuse to admit to caring what anyone else feels or needs, and (3) “emotional liberation”—in which we accept full responsibility for our own feelings but not the feelings of others, while being aware that we can never meet our own needs at the expense of others."

— Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life (1999)

Learn the skill of delaying your response when faced with someone who is intentionally trying to provoke you. Refuse to let others dictate your mood. Take charge of your emotions. You decide when, how, and whether you want to to react. You control yourself, no one else does.

#needs #desire #gratification #responsibility #control #individualism #brain

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ladyshinga · 2 years ago

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The exhausting cognitive dissonance of "patriots" in the US is... wild. Because they hate 90% of the country they're screaming about loving. You ask them what they think of states that they don't live in and suddenly their patriotism crumbles to dust as they rant and rave about how much the other states suck and how everyone in them is terrible and ruining the country etc etc. No hint of irony, no sense of disconnect, they seem to genuinely think you can "love" the USA and hate most of the S's. Like, bud, do you want us united or not? Do you think the states are one country you're proud of, or are they all separate things you hate? Pick one, I'm fuckin' tired. I'm so tired.

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scary-senpai · 3 years ago

Photo

Woof.

Hear that sound? That is me, vigorously shaking my head above my Tumblr dash like a wet dog, trying to get all the hyperfixations out before my lunch break is done.

This looks to me like a Momento Mori, which (as per Wikipedia) can be defined as:

an artistic or symbolic trope acting as a reminder of the inevitability of death.

In context (particularly during the Victorian era, when morbidity was all the rage), it typically refers to the physical death, but it doesn’t have to -- the notion of metaphorical death --ego death, death of the author, deaths for all ages and occasions-- is a commonplace concept too.

Oh, speaking of Ego Death... (from https://www.mindbodygreen.com although I’m sure I’ve got this in a handout somewhere...)

Ego death is the (often instantaneous) realization that you are not truly the things you've identified with, and the "ego" or sense of self you've created in your mind is a fabrication.

Ego death is (according to Freud and others) part of the hero’s journey, after all. Achieving ego death is generally a positive thing, a feeling of transcendence -- like you’ve left behind the shallow concepts and false identities that bind you, and the sensation of unity and ONE-ness, if you will excuse my dad joke. (do not start watching OPM as you are going through your yoga teacher training, you will wonder why everybody is fighting if they are all part of the ONE).

Anyway, I digress. Let’s chat about symbolism and psychoanalysis, shall we?

A Momento Mori can look... a bit more obviously death like, like the skull in Psykos’ lair:

However, it is not uncommon to leverage optical illusions like the one below, perhaps to further emphasize the idea that death is always one step away.

The cover image is more like the image above, where we see two things at once. From one perspective, we see a skull -- something all humans have, but at the same time, are naturally averse to. (”Check out these neat bones I found” is right up there with “I eated the purple berries!” as far as evolutionary helpful behaviors go -- we’re inclined to avoid dead things for a reason). From another perspective, though, we see Garou’s very human and notably bandaged body. That, in itself, as a lot.

But, as I mentioned before, we’re probably looking at a metaphorical sort of death. ::rubs hands together excitedly:: so let’s have some fun with psychoanalysis, shall we?

There’s so, so much I could say about Garou’s character, but I’m most poignantly reminded of a book that my primary teacher often quotes, which is The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of Renewal and Grief.

I joke about Garou splitting things into half as a metaphor for his cognitive dissonance and inability to reconcile his identity. Yes, he does bifurcate the giant centipede and fantasizes about cutting HA Headquarters in half, but he also divides the world itself into binary categories -- and this is why he spends his arc embroiled in an identity crisis. Whether he acknowledges it or not is debatable, but overall Garou seems largely disconnected from his feelings, desires, and even his memories. Garou acts like a hero but he feels like the monster, he’s physically strong but still identifies as weak, and so on. I think we’ve all felt that way at some point, though -- for whatever reason, we’ve had to split ourselves into pieces, and our identity becomes a puzzle that we cannot reconcile.

In the Wild Edge of Sorrow, author Francis Weller, posits that this fragmented dichotomy of self literally splits your spirit. When we’re attempting to cut off aspects of self that we consider unworthy, undeserving, or unfit, we feel we have no right to grieve them. This makes it difficult, if not impossible, to heal from those things.

If we can’t fully grieve an experience, we can’t move on. So we carry these experiences with us, haunted and held back by all the pain we can’t leave behind.

Garou isn’t always the most rational actor, but to me his actions have always made sense if you view him as a traumatized kid. (Seriously, the guy fights in his sleep! How can you not see that and immediately think “shit, kiddo, your Autonomic Nervous System never lets up, not even when you are unconscious! you’re telling me you never feel safe enough to rest??”) Trauma robs us of our ability to imagine that life could be anything otherwise, ensnaring us in whatever horrible life-altering moment we managed to live through.

It’s common to see trauma survivors demonstrating this trapped mindset, often deliberately seeking out and repeating the same cycle, because they implicitly understand the importance of closure, something that signals to their minds and bodies “it’s over now. you’re finally safe.” They usually can’t do it without help. (For more on this, I recommend The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk). In Garou’s case, tragically, this is not only a cycle but a self-fulfilling prophesy. He’s decided he can’t be anything other than the monster, therefore, he acts like one and gets deemed as such. It likely makes him feel as if he has some modicum of control over what he mistakenly takes as an inevitability.

Getting back to the pseudo-science, though... I’m thinking back to something my aunt told me once, when I was in a particularly bad headspace. IIRC, she was referencing famed psychoanalyst Carl Jung, but it’s all heresay at this point. Anyway, at that point in my mortal coil I was not taking particularly good care of myself, to put it mildly. My aunt explained that sometimes self-destructive behaviors (in Garou’s case, picking fights all the time, including ones likely to end in your physical death) are a way of recognizing that “yes, there’s a part of me that has to be culled in order for something better to grow in its place. I need to leave behind my identity as somebody that doesn’t deserve acceptance or success.” The trick is to apply this instinct in a healthy way, and not like, go recklessly biking through midtown without a helmet until your ex returns your phone calls. Again, though, I’d take that one with a grain of salt -- especially if you’re applying it to anything other than a fictional character. There’s a reason that mental health treatment has moved away from speculating on symbolism and towards neuroscience and evidence-based practice -- although I’ve held on to this image as a healing metaphor because it personally resonates with me.

I feel like I could go on and on... in alchemy literal death and rot are something that eventually yields to purification and perfection, then there’s the apparent nod to re-incarnation when it comes to monstrification (recovering from near-death experiences causes humans to evolve and become stronger), of course there’s the Death card in Tarot which speaks to new beginnings... but I have to go back to work. Happy reading, thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

#one punch man #opm #spoilers #one punch man spoilers #manga spoilers #all the spoilers #garou #meta #literati #deaths for all occasions is a minor tom stoppard reference #momento mori knowledge comes from my previous life running spoopy steampunk events #and now to turn on my nanny app and block out all distractions for the remainder of the work day #because i know i have no self control :(((

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ashesandhackles · 4 years ago

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The Hogwarts Express scene in Prince's Tale: A Sirius and Snape analysis

I really, really enjoy Sirius and Snape as characters and their respective narrative functions in story. But what gets me most about them is how much Rowling hints about their backgrounds and so much of it makes sense with regard to who they are as adults. So I am going to be breaking down a very small scene from Prince Tale and getting into long winded hypothesis about their respective childhoods.

So, let's start with Snape. The scene begins with Snape rushing to find Lily, already in his Hogwarts clothes. Harry notes he must have been eager to get out of his clothes - ones that look like he borrowed from his mother, as Petunia spitefully pointed out. This has always been a very interesting detail to me - first off, it indicates how poor Snape's family is. Second, this indicates his tiny rebellion from his father - he refuses to wear clothes of the abusive man, and prefers his mother's. I admit, I am partial to the reading that Snape refuses to associate with his father in tiny ways, rather than Tobias refusing to hand his son clothes.

(I have seen readings which say that it is also a sign of neglect - perhaps his parents bought clothes that simply don't fit him, but I am more inclined to think it's a hand me down, simply because Harry identifies so strongly with it. Because Harry knows what it is like to wear a hand me down that don't quite fit, that are too big for you, or the ones that make you look ridiculous.)

Lily and Petunia's relationship is fraught with Petunia's jealousy. And young Lily is upset over it when Snape meets her. "I am not talking to you. Tuney hates me" she tells him. "Because we saw the letter from Dumbledore". Young Lily shows signs of being extremely emotionally reactive and this scene is one of them. It's easier for her to deal with Petunia's rejection of her by telling Snape she doesn't want to talk to him. It's a childish displacement of her hurt over her sister's rejection. (I am genuinely baffled by interpretations that Lily and Hermione are similar. Hermione is very cognitive person, Lily, as we have been shown repeatedly in memories, is not).

Snape, however, with his bad history with Petunia and his inability/ poor social skills to understand why this matters to her, goes: "So what?"

Lily, who throws him a look of deep dislike, says "So she's my sister". This seed is important because this is what develops into "he doesn't get me" feeling she later displays in her teenage scenes with him. Interestingly, most of Lily's personal relationships have deeply interwined love and dislike - Petunia (whose rejection bothers her but she cheerfully informs Sirius that Harry nearly broke a vase her sister sent - which means there is resentment on her end too), James - who she was attracted to even before 7th year but also disliked at one point, and Snape - again, a contentious friendship filled with love and distance.

"She's only a -" we dont get to hear what Snape intended to say. And given his own acrimony with Petunia, it could be anything. However, I read it as "She's only a Muggle" because it ties into his feelings about his father. Snape, who is proud of being half a Prince, emphasizing his magical lineage from his mother's side, his refuge in a violent, neglectful home. (Barty Crouch Jr and Snape with their disappointing fathers - I imagine Voldemort is supremely attractive leader to people with broken homes like this)

Snape, by all accounts, shows a disorganised attachment style. His caregiver, his mother - and perhaps the only parent he seems to have regard for, is too preoccupied by her own abuse to be there for her son - we see this in glimpses Harry sees in OOTP: " woman cowering" where a man shouts at her, and a young, neglected Snape cries in the corner. Children born in homes like this have trouble regulating their emotions, simultaneously displaying tendencies to aggressively lash out or show disassociative symptoms. Both of which Snape displays. Statistically, this is also seen more in low income households where economic instability and resulting domestic instability creates an unsafe environment for the kids to safely form ideas of their identity, or express emotions in healthy ways, modelling instead out of behaviour seen at home.

Then, Snape reminds her that they are going to Hogwarts. He is already in his Hogwarts clothes - now, Snape gets to be the impressive figure. The one who told her about magic, who theorised about how Muggles get letters from magical people, the one who told her about Dementors and Azkaban. He has already left behind the Spinner's End version of him, he wants to bigger than that, and is keen to be in place of magical learning and to join Slytherin. Essentially, he shows signs of unstable identity, insecurity - all prime for grooming into a cult.

And here comes along James Potter, who looks around at the mention of Slytherin. James's comment uses Snape's line and directs it to Sirius instead and it becomes a conversation between them, as a way to bond more with a fellow "rowdy boy" Sirius. Effectively ignoring the other two.

Sirius as we see here, "does not smile" when James talks about Slytherin. He essentially says something that can be construed as a way to nip that conversation in bud: "My whole family has been in. Slytherin". This suggests to me that there is some loyalty to his family there and his disillusionment with them isn't entirely fixed yet. After all, Sirius's intense loyalty to his friends, more specifically James, did not come out of thin air. It is reasonable to suggest that he felt some loyalty to his family at some point and the intensity with which he regards his friends is a reaction to burned off and being a "displaced person without a family" as Rowling put it.

Interestingly, while his reaction to his mother and Bellatrix are obviously sore spots, his response to Regulus is comparatively quite soft. ("Stupid, idiot" - something he calls James later on in the same book, OOTP). I imagine Sirius has quite complicated feelings about his brother and he is capable of nuance (when the person isn't Snape, where his dislike seems to be borne of an intense projection): "The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters". As someone who is grown up among them, Sirius would understand that.

His framing of Regulus's need to please his parents also further highlights what exactly is the source of disillusionment. He calls Regulus "soft enough to believe them" - which means he is crediting his own intelligence to see through his parents bigoted world view. Clearly, bigotry is not something the Blacks explained in a way that Sirius, eldest of their male line and their heir, bought it. It also probably didn't help the Blacks case that Grimmauld Place is in a Muggle neighborhood and that their eldest son is a bit of a wild boy with interest in pushing boundaries. His intellectual disconnect leads to the righteous rage he later feels but it began there. (Boy, it must suck to discover that everything you have been taught to value in the world and in yourself as the heir is essentially rubbish). Since his differences with his family began with seeds of intellectual disconnect rather than on intense empathy with downtrodden, it makes him, as a pureblooded privileged boy, unable to truly understand Lupin's fears regarding his lycanthropy. Hence, the Werewolf prank (I am not getting to the Snape bit, just the Lupin bit). To James' credit, he does understand what that means for Lupin and saves all three of them from different set of consequences.

Anyway, back to the scene. James, who has made an ass of himself in front of his new friend, who he was getting along with fine until now, then goes "Blimey, I thought you seemed alright". (Btw, I find James wildly large ego kind of hilarious here, especially in light of Snape's comment about him to Sirius in OOTP: "You will know he is so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him"). Sirius, who I believe has been raised like "royalty" as Blacks would, has good enough social skills to defuse a situation. He grins and says: "Maybe I will break the tradition".

This line is an indication of Sirius's desire for independence, an identity seperate from his family. The use of the word "tradition" is interesting. It sounds like Sirius is expected to behave in a certain way, the heir of Black family whose parents thought being a Black "made you practically royal". Adult Sirius is contemptuous of this, or their "valuable contribution to Ministry" which means they just gave gold - it tells me that any and all conditions put on him by his family were to fulfill tradition that is either worthless or holds no meaning in his eyes. The root of the emotional abuse Sirius suffers from his family is this - realising his parents love for him is conditional on him being a certain way. (In fact, you can read Regulus desire to emphasise his connection to the family as a reaction to what he sees with Sirius - Sirius does not behave, Mum and Dad don't love him). As a child with unconscious knowledge of lack of love, Sirius then acts out, they react, rinse and repeat "until he has had enough". Sirius chafes against boundaries well into adulthood and doesn't react well to people enforcing it on him, even if it is out of love for him. Cue the fire scene with Harry where he behaves as if Harry is rejecting him instead of protecting him.

Sirius asks James about where he wants to go, and Snape, who is incensed about James being insulting about a House he put stock in, which he made part of new identity (so that he is no longer that Snape boy from Spinner's End) and was in general trying to be impressive about in front of Lily, "makes a disparaging noise" once James talks of Gryffindor. Snape's response to James' : "Got a problem with that?" is interesting. He says: "If you'd rather be brawny, rather than brainy-"

This is an important value for Snape. He knows he is clever and values it. He spends his spare time inventing hexes, making great shortcuts to Potions. He has genuine thirst for learning and he hones it. In SWM, we see that he has written far more longer answers than anyone else, he is poring over his paper after exams. He even mocks Hermione's lack of inventive answers: "Answer copied word to word from the textbook, but correct in essentials". He values originality. It may be me stretching this, but I am partial to the reading: this is his way of rejecting his father once again, who is implied to be a violent man. (in other words, someone who is hypermasculine - "brawny". In fact, Snape's rejection of hypermasculinity is a huge post on it's own - Potions (brewing, cauldrons - coded as feminine arts), the doe Patronus, his proficiency in Occlumency and Legliemency (intuitive mind arts, again seen archetypically feminine) etc).

"Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you are neither?" - Sirius is quick with emotionally cutting insults. Snape hasn't even finished his sentence, but Sirius is already on his case. Which suggests growing up in a household with sharp tongues. It's a fair assumption, given Mrs Black's half mad portrait. It also tallies with Sirius's talking about his mother: "My mother didn't have a heart Kreacher, she kept herself alive out of pure spite" . The wounds are fresh enough on this. (Another interesting way Snape and Sirius act as inverse mirrors - Snape rejects his father, Sirius rejects his mother. Sirius acts as proxy for James for Harry while Snape takes on Lily's role of protecting him). However, you know who else is spiteful? Sirius.

While James is the physical bully (the tripping Snape, doing most of the bullying in SWM), Sirius attacks emotionally. ( Sample the one about Snape's appearance - "I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment, there will be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word" or even the carelessly vicious- "Put that away, before Wormtail wets himself in excitement"). Curiously, with all that talk of how his mother being spiteful, it's her room he spends time in when he is depressed. (Again, in inverse mirror way, we can talk of how Snape looks for a father figure in Dumbledore - craves his validation and is proud of Dumbledore's trust in him). We could argue it's also because Buckbeak is there, and perhaps it's the largest room in the house, but it's very telling that's where Sirius spends time when he is "in a fit of sullens". Sirius's sense of abandonment from his family, makes him look for family connections with friends - a trait he shares with Harry. Interestingly, the first time he glimpses Harry in Privet Drive, Harry is also running away from home - just like he did. Anyway, I could go on.

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