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dramaticviolincrescendo · 4 years

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Okay, what are your thoughts on Ian's relationships? With his family, his boyfriends, and Mandy (since I think that's the only friend he's had)

Oh, no. Ohhhhhhhh, no. Now you’ve done it. You’ve asked about my dear, darling favorite character on the show. My love for one Ian Gallagher runs deep, which means this answer is going to run super long. The good, the bad, and everything in between—Ian Gallagher lives rent free in my brain and always will. I derive so much satisfaction from seeing Ian interact with other people, in whatever capacity that might be. I admire and aspire to the compassion he has shown for others over the years, even and perhaps most especially those who arguably haven’t earned it. He tries so hard to be good to people, and seeing their love for him manifest when he’s reached such lows where he can’t even fathom why the love of his life would want to be with him forever? That’s powerful.

So, yeah. I said I could write essays on these characters, and that’s exactly what you’re about to get: five hours and 6k words’ worth of my thoughts. (I am so sorry. There will be text walls.)

Let’s dive into Ian’s many and multifaceted relationships—his family, his friends, and his romantic pursuits.

Ian and Family

Ian told us where he stood on this in the very first season, and it set the standard for his character for eleven years to come. Faced with a prospect that others in his position could only dream of—not being Frank’s son and having a wealthy father with a functional, prosperous lifestyle mere miles away—Ian refused to buy into it. He refused to do what might have been objectively better for his future by seeking a relationship with Clayton. In that household, he would have had access to a better public school, more financial resources, a tutor to help him where he was struggling, and less urgency for him to work so that he could enjoy being a kid. When he got sick, he would have had access to better healthcare, too. Perhaps he would have had a better shot at West Point from that background than he did at home. But that’s just it: home was with his family, and he was very clear that they didn’t live in that nice house. All he wanted—all he wanted—was to be with his brothers and sisters. He has never referred to them as only half-siblings or half-cousins; he has never even used the words, “you’re not my dad,” on Frank. That’s his family, the people he loves most in the world, and he’s always been at his best when he’s with them and at his worst when he’s not. Let’s look at each of them:

1. Frank: It is so striking to me that Ian doesn’t appear to hold the outright contempt for Frank that Fiona, Lip, and Debbie have exhibited at different points over the years. Aside from the handful of instances where they’ve gotten into physical altercations (which Frank always initiated) and kicking him out of the house on occasion, Ian is simply indifferent to him. But there are these moments, these brief glimmers of mutual attachment and loyalty, if those are the right words. In the scene where Ian famously doesn’t count to three before using the pepper spray on him, Frank starts saying how his New Gallaghers weren’t his real kids—that Ian is his real son, and Frank is his real father. It’s a passing thought uttered while trying to manipulate his way into the house that neither of them think much of, nor does the audience…until you remember that biologically, Frank isn’t his father, and he certainly hasn’t behaved like one either. Ian has more right than anyone to comment on that, but he doesn’t because Frank is his father. He’s the father that Ian idly hoped wouldn’t come to his wedding yet sat joking about with Debbie rather than getting pissed off that he was making out with some lady in front of everyone. He’s the father who sat at the table with them eating breakfast in 11x03 and claimed Mickey was the man in their relationship without Ian saying a word to him about it, and who Ian saw no issue with taking Franny to school when no one else could. In s4, as far removed from his family as he’d been for a while, Ian still went straight to the hospital when he heard that Frank was at death’s door. We focus so much on his attitude towards Monica because of how obvious it was that we frequently miss these tiny moments and their implications. It would take an awful lot of patience, compassion, and love not to write Frank off completely after all he’s done. Not necessarily our standard definition of love between a son and his father, perhaps, but a loving soul.

2. Monica: I have actually written a pretty lengthy post about his relationship with her because while their shared mental illness definitely plays a role in his feelings toward her, that grew complicated far earlier than his diagnosis. The first time we meet her, we see that he has a visceral reaction to news of her presence. He runs. When Ian can’t process strong emotions, that’s what he’s done in the past. I happened upon an interview Cameron did just after the end of s1 where he mentioned something I had already been thinking: Ian’s age when Monica left is extremely important. He was a kid in s1, but one who could roll with the punches, sometimes literally. She left them two years before that. Ian would have been in middle school, roughly as old as Debbie was when she still called Frank “daddy” and forgave him for everything he did. It’s an awkward age that once again set Ian in something of a danger zone—too old to accept an excuse or no explanation at all, but not old enough to process the situation in a healthy way. And then she’s back all of a sudden with no warning. Ian doesn’t cry like Debbie, and he doesn’t typically get explosively angry like Fiona. He can’t deal, so he runs. He hangs back. He only speaks when he has to and compartmentalizes: Monica wants to take Liam, and they need to stop her. It doesn’t have to be about her leaving. They have a goal—he can focus on that. And then she’s back a year later, saying she’s here to stay while Fiona seems to take her at her word and Lip isn’t there to ground everyone. Ian tries so hard to behave like Lip would with his biting sarcasm and attempts to stay emotionally distant in a way that seemed pretty exaggerated for Ian, but he’s also dealing with a fresh wave of guilt over Mickey going to juvie—and Monica gets it. She’s the only person to acknowledge that he’s in pain and actively try to make it better. She’s the only one who really knows at the time, but that hardly matters. This poor kid, whose mother left him when he still needed her, has her standing in front of him and saying she’s sorry and listening when he speaks and taking him dancing—just the two of them. Embarrassing as it was and harmful as it could have been, she tried to facilitate his dreams when no one else wanted him to go into the military. She was there for him when he went AWOL. She came for him when he was arrested and even wanted to make a place for him in her new life, unrealistic as it was. This goes so much deeper than them both being bipolar. Ian’s comment about her parachuting into their lives in s7 wasn’t about Mickey or her role in them breaking up. He trusted her. He wanted her. He needed her. And she’d convinced him that she would be there—until she left. Over and over again. She was there for him and unintentionally took advantage of how desperately he still needed his mother. She made him keep loving her, and that’s both a blessing that has him crying into a voluminous man’s arms when she passes and a curse that wrecked him more than once.

3. Fiona: The trust these two have for each other cannot be understated. Fiona has discussed things with Ian that she never brought up around any of the other kids throughout the entire series. In the pilot episode, she tells him about feeling needed and takes his opinion on the matter to heart. At the end of the season, he’s the one she talks to about the car because she can trust him to give her an answer even without speaking. In s2, she tells Lip that the two of them are her rocks, and we see that time and time again. That’s part of what makes their falling out over the church hit that much harder: it’s Ian and Fiona. The only time they’d been on the outs in any serious manner up to that point was when Ian was adjusting to his new reality and they were trying to find a balance between sister and caretaker. Otherwise, that bond of trust had never been severed—not until Ian literally sold himself only for it to amount to nothing in the end because she had no idea the lengths to which he’d gone to get that building. That damage gets mended, thankfully, but what a powerful period of time when those two were the only ones who’d never really been at each other’s throats. There is a downside to that trust, though. As I mentioned before, Ian was so responsible and put together when he was younger that Fiona didn’t think twice about his situation with Ned or that he ran away. Not even seventeen yet, and she was telling Debbie that she didn’t like his decision to leave but trusted him. That is one of the things I love about this show—even something like trust that we always prop up as an important factor in our relationships can betray us in the most unexpected ways.

4. Lip: I won’t go into it here, but the relationship they share is something that means a lot to me on a personal level. It’s part of how I knew that Ian would become my favorite character pretty early on. The way he simultaneously admires and envies Lip, loves and is annoyed by him, relies on him and is desperate to pave his own path in the world—what a beautiful and accurate depiction of what it means to be a younger sibling. Lip is the first person to discover that he’s gay and openly accept him for it. (I think what he tried with Karen came from a well-meaning place even if it was horribly, horribly misguided.) Lip is the one who tries to get him into West Point, hate it as he does. He helps Ian when Terry is after him, takes care of him in the aftermath of the wedding when he realizes just how deeply Ian feels for Mickey, searches the whole damn city for him when he finds out that Ian is in trouble, gets him a job, leans on him in his own time of need… He’s not perfect. He slips up, just like Ian does. Some things break my heart, like Lip insisting that he’s earned his own space when his little brother is asking him for safe harbor or Ian thanking him for being his brother outside the prison. But they love each other so much, and I just… I can’t possibly put into words how much I love their dynamic.

5. Debbie, Carl, and Liam: I’m grouping these three together because they’re further separated from Ian in age, so we see a lot of the same trends with them as a whole. Ian loves taking care of people. We know this. We also know that Fiona and Lip don’t typically want him taking care of them—they’re the ones who take care of him when he needs it, specifically Lip. With the younger three, however, Ian can be the Big Brother. He can shake his head in utter bafflement at Debbie’s obsession with holding her breath for two minutes, walk Carl through what he needs to go camping, and promise his baby brother postcards when he leaves. The difference here is that his relationship with them is so much less fraught with conflict. We don’t see him fight with Debbie, Carl, or Liam the way he has with Fiona or Lip. While Ian tends to be the voice of reason during conflicts overall, I think it’s also because he relies on his older siblings in a way that he doesn’t with his younger siblings, and the latter don’t tend to rely on him as much as Fiona or Lip as well. There’s a lack of tension in most of their interactions growing up because that pressure isn’t there. Perhaps this is where Ian’s age and standing in the family is a bit more beneficial: young enough to have people he can rely on while too young for anyone to really rely on him for more than his share of the squirrel fund.

Ian and Friends

I’ve seen it mentioned that Ian (and Mickey) not having more friends is bad or lazy writing. I tend to believe that that fails to take something into account that, admittedly, most of us don’t really have to think about: having friends is a luxury. It requires time and effort to cultivate friendships, especially lasting ones. As a kid, Ian spent a lot of his free time working or helping to manage one family crisis after another. Going AWOL, losing his health, struggling to acclimate to his illness, trying to find a new career path, spiraling into the Gay Jesus movement, going to prison, adjusting once again to normal life, getting married, a pandemic… I’m sure he’s had plenty of acquaintances over the years, but having a family to support and constant upheavals would have made it extremely difficult to really forge strong relationships with them. I think that’s part of what makes his relationship with Mandy so special and valuable to him: she’s sort of the same way.

When we met Mandy in s1, she had other friends. We saw her meet up with them and go shopping; she told Ian a story about how one was mad at her for not sharing her make-up. As the trauma in the Milkovich household reached its zenith for her in s2 and she started thinking seriously about getting out of there, we saw those friends fall by the wayside—all except Ian. He saw her and let her see him early on. That’s a level of trust and respect that nobody else in their neighborhood would have displayed, certainly not to her. But then there’s this guy who defended her against their creepy, perverted teacher and treated her like a human being, not an object. It’s no wonder she developed an obvious, unrequited crush and sought physical comfort from him occasionally. It’s no wonder she tried to repay the favor by giving Mickey a hard time in s3 and s4, misguided and rather uninformed as we know it was at the time. (It’s also no wonder that she went for the closest Gallagher to Ian, either, but that’s for another meta.)

And Ian… Ian is loyal to a fault. We have watched Ian cut out his own heart and let the blood drip down his arm to pool on the floor at his feet if it would make a damn bit of difference for the people he loves. Like Fiona and Lip, Mandy immediately accepted him for who he is and suggested an arrangement that would protect him as well as benefit her. That is enormous where they came from. To him, that had to feel like the ultimate sign of friendship: he could trust her with a part of him that he hadn’t even entrusted to most of his family yet. From that point on, she was on the List of People Ian Gallagher Would Do Anything For. Finding out about Terry and what had happened? He held a bake sale, of all things, to fundraise for her. Seeing that his brother—his best friend—was treating her like garbage? He put him in his place. Her boyfriend was beating her? He brought her home and made it his goal to find a safe place for her to stay, even if it ultimately didn’t work. She was going to move away from all of her meager support with that boyfriend? He didn’t just rally his own arguments—he brought in outside help with Lip, who he thought might tip the scales. It’s usually just a saying that true friends will help each other hide a body, but Ian literally tried to do that. Lucky for him, he has a good head on his shoulders and used it.

No, Ian doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends. We’ve seen that he has spheres of influence, if you will, and acquaintances that he can call upon when he needs them. (For example, the guys that helped with the preacher.) However, Ian has always struck me as a “quality over quantity” type of person. Being a soldier or an EMT isn’t lucrative, but they’re meaningful for someone who sees them as vehicles for helping people. Seeing more parts of the world than just Chicago has appealed to him in the past, but he seems perfectly content to carve out a spot for himself right here at home. Having only three best friends—Lip, Mandy, and Mickey—doesn’t seem like much of a hardship for him.

Ian and Romantic Pursuits

I hate to say that there were five, but from Ian’s perspective, there were. So, let’s talk about all five. Even though…there weren’t five. There was only one. We’ll save the best for last.

1. Kash: The first of Ian’s perceived romantic pursuits that really wasn’t. I hope it goes without saying that I hate this man with the passion of a thousand burning suns. I hate him so much. However, their interactions taught me a whole lot about how kind and compassionate Ian really is—and how naïve. Of course, he would believe that Kash loved him. The man was buying him all sorts of expensive gifts, and that’s what we see on all the commercials and in so many movies, isn’t it? Grand gestures of affection through expensive gifts. Poor as they were, Ian still scraped together the money to buy him baseball tickets and CDs, convinced as he was that that was all part of what you did in a relationship. That desire to do things like a “normal” married couple in s11? Yeah, that starts here. Ian has always been a planner, and he’s always bought into certain stereotypes. We can see that here. What we can also see is Ian’s compassionate, kind, loving soul. He cares so deeply for other people, even ones that he doesn’t know very well, especially if they are living in circumstances that mean something to him. (For example, the mentally ill woman they tried to help at work and the shelter kids whose situations were so similar to Mickey’s.) Kash being a closeted gay man living in misery with a wife he didn’t love and two children he never meant to have clearly tugged at Ian’s heartstrings. Even after everything that happens, even though Ian behaves as though they’re awkward exes who just happen to work together, he still covers for Kash. He gives him that head start and takes it upon himself to break the news to Linda that he’s gone. He defends Kash to Lip when the latter finally says exactly what we all know: he was a pedophile who deserved to rot in prison for what he did. As with Fiona’s trust, Ian’s loving soul, compassionate heart, and desire for love outside his siblings are virtues that have done him harm in the past. This is one such instance.

2. Ned: The second of Ian’s perceived romantic pursuits that really wasn’t. To be honest, I don’t believe that Ian would even characterize it that way. He seemed very aware that Ned was a distraction from his problems—from Mickey being in juvie, Monica falling into a depressive episode, the money in the squirrel fund being gone, Lip moving out, losing his shot at West Point, and getting denied for service due to his age. Again, though, Ian has always wanted to feel valued, and this rich dude was letting him stay in a fancy hotel room with anything he wanted readily available. This (disgusting predator) guy was giving him attention and a distraction with no strings attached. Then the complications roll in, and he’s once again faced with being the mistress to a closeted, married man. The difference here is that he’s not comfortable with it. He tries to tell Fiona twice, which is enormous for Ian when he has never been very good at communicating if it means burdening others with or even merely facing his own problems. But he tries to tell her. He rejects the GPS unit and tells Ned that he has a boyfriend, boxing him into a strictly sexual arrangement. (This, unfortunately, makes sense. It aligns with how Fiona viewed things: where Jimmy was concerned about it, she told him that it was “just sex.”) He is also visibly embarrassed to admit to Lip and Fiona what has been going on with Ned. By that point, Ian is a year and a half older and, while still scarred and warped in his views because of Kash, perhaps a bit wiser. Emotionally, he kept Ned at arm’s length most of the time. He used Ned not just as a distraction, but as a way to galvanize Mickey into taking their relationship a step forward. But Ian is still Ian, and Ian is compassionate to a fault. Ned played that card by asking if he could have a little understanding for a man whose life was falling apart. Sure, he can. He’s Ian, the Gallagher too empathetic for his own good at times. We know how that spirals out of control. It just goes to show that even when Ian was trying to maintain some emotional distance, his heart is simply too big and his perceptions too heavily impacted by the grooming he’d experienced with two different people by then, and so he [SPOILER ALERT] still feels enough of a connection to Ned after all these years to be mildly bothered that he passed away.

3. Caleb: The third of Ian’s perceived romantic pursuits that really wasn’t. Ian’s relationship with Caleb strikes me as being similar to what he had with Ned. While more age-appropriate, Ian was very much using Caleb, just as Caleb was using him. That’s why it was so easy for both of them to walk away. Ian was in a difficult spot when they met. He was grateful to the firefighters who saved his life, but he had also just saved someone else at a moment when he was perhaps at his absolute lowest. That’s what he’s always wanted, isn’t it—to be a bit of a hero and help people? So, he’s understandably drawn there, first out of gratitude and then to be surrounded by very attractive gay firemen who helped people, saved his life, and invited him to be part of a function they were holding. But he made himself pretty clear from the start: he was interested in sex with Caleb. That was the draw. He still hasn’t come to terms with being bipolar and losing Mickey, but Ian has never not been with anyone for any extended length of time. That’s just who he is: he’s always sought some level of outward validation—from the army, Kash, Monica, Mickey, and so many others. We’re seeing him struggle with that now as he deals with the opportunities available to him as a mentally ill ex-con felon. So, he pursues Caleb as a distraction just like he did with Ned, only Caleb is a predator in his own right and can smell that his interest is coming from a place of weakness. He immediately (and initially unintentionally) preys on Ian’s desperate need for structure and order by insisting on a traditional date where Ian is very much out of his element and even goes so far as to instruct Ian on how to be intimate. It’s no wonder he mentions Mickey in these moments, as Mickey never wanted him to change, and Ian leans heavily (even slightly hyperbolically) into the fact that Mickey wasn’t a paragon of order and stability like Caleb outwardly appears.

And I think why Ian puts up with it so long—being taught like a child, being used to upset Caleb’s parents, being paraded in front of his friends to make them jealous—is because he was getting something out of it too, just like with Ned. A stable place to live when their home ownership was in flux, a place away from his family when they weren’t providing the support he needed as he adjusted to his disorder, someone who validated his desires to help people regardless of their ulterior motives, and a physical distraction from his own problems. All of these parallel his relationship with Ned very closely. It was never going to last, of course. Ian is a strong person who temporarily forgot how strong he was because he forgot who he was, and Caleb didn’t want to be cared for—he wanted a project, like all of his sculptures. Being a project, being something that others see as needing to be fixed? That’s a hard no for Ian. It always has been. There’s a moment I love later in their relationship where Caleb tells him to turn off the lights when he goes out and lightly reprimands him for leaving one on the day prior. Ian is in a better place at that point, having regained a lot of his sense of self, and stares after him with indignation at being treated like a kid. He’s then lied to and cheated on, but I think that to mention those things to Caleb when they break up is to admit weakness on his own part—that he stuck with Caleb knowing that he was being mistreated, and Ian is not one to be called a victim. So, while we know from his discussions with Lip and Sue that the cheating and distrust bothered him most, he merely focused on Caleb lying about his sexuality, which removed a lot of the emotion from the situation—just like he did with Ned. It ultimately turned out to be a bad move since Caleb, being a skilled predator, made him question even his own sexuality in return, but we’re starting to see that Ian isn’t here to be someone’s toy anymore. Not an older, married man like Ned, but definitely not anyone his age either. I’m glad this pseudo-relationship happened because it showed Ian how strong he really was and that he could be in control of his own life. Sure, it destabilized him a little in the aftermath, but he worked through it. He leaned on his family, specifically Lip, who has always been his rock without the blurred lines that Fiona represented between sister/mother-figure/caretaker. Caleb is a garbage person, but Ian was the one who pulled the treasure from the trash, not him.

4. Trevor: The fourth of Ian’s perceived romantic pursuits that really wasn’t. Trevor is perhaps the first relationship where we don’t see Ian dive in. Whether that’s because of his confusion over Trevor’s gender identity or the fact that he was really beginning to fully mature as an adult by that point (ostensibly finishing his education, getting a career, being fully self-sufficient, etc.), he tried to take his time and not jump right in. They hung out, talked around the neighborhood, and yes, engaged in some casual intimacy at the club. Again, Ian might not be in a full relationship, but he’s never without someone for long. At that point in the series, all he was missing was a relationship when it comes to traditional, “normal” goals for people to have. But Trevor posed a situation he’s never been in before since, while gay himself, Ian has never been very interested in activism or engaging in the LGBT community. It’s just not in his culture or environment, so to be faced with someone he’s interested in that challenges a lot of his views of gender and sexuality is something he takes his time with. Unfortunately, Trevor is younger than him and not quite as mature, not quite as experienced. He tells Ian he has plenty of friends and doesn’t need another, which is an ultimatum that has never really sat very well with me personally because I’m generally of the mind that if a person needs time and you really care for them, you’ll let them have that time. I’m not unsympathetic to Trevor: he’s been burned before and has his own trauma stemming from responses to his identity, so it makes complete sense for him not to be patient in this regard. He shouldn’t have to be—but then, Ian shouldn’t have to rush into anything he’s not 100% certain he wants either. That’s exactly what he does, though, because Ian does for others without thinking of the implications for himself a lot of the time. They make great friends, but they don’t make great partners. Trevor treats Ian similarly to Caleb in that he’s a bit of a project. Trevor educates him on the LGBT community and incorporates him into his ventures for the shelter without ever really showing much interest in Ian’s life or family, which suits Ian just fine because for as interested as he is in helping with the shelter and as attracted to Trevor as he is, he seems to know they’re not compatible. Ian, who has been having sex since he was far too young, takes a step back from it when they run into compatibility issues. (And pushes back on the pressure to bottom with some of his own—neither of them were in the right on that.) He doesn’t ask much about Trevor’s family or try to be part of his personal life. They sort of embody the “friends with benefits” stereotype: they hang out, they have sex, and that’s really all there is to their relationship.

The reason Ian doubles down on trying to make it work isn’t because there was a future for them before Mickey broke out. It’s because he thinks he’s lost Mickey forever, he knows he’s lost Monica forever, and he’s not going to get the support he needs from his family when they couldn’t stand Monica and Fiona told him what he already knew to be true, namely that Mickey being an escaped convict would destroy everything Ian worked so hard for if he got involved. So, he does what Ian does. He needs that distraction—he needs to run from these strong emotions he can’t process, so he bottles them up and unfairly hopes that Trevor will provide some of that comfort after cheating on him with Mickey. (Had Mickey been released, I think they would have broken up. Instead, that was the first match Ian lit, but certainly not the last.) Now, the thing is, Trevor said at the start that he didn’t want to be Ian’s friend. He’s also younger and less mature in a relationship, which means he threw the concept of love out there prematurely, just like Ian thought what he had with Kash was love. The death throes of their relationship were a back and forth where Ian was spiraling and seeking comfort, and Trevor was providing some while keeping their relationship pretty amorphous. (Were they exes? Were they friends? Were they people who shared interests and danced around each other? Were they going to get back together? They never officially broke up—it fizzled and resurged, then fizzled for good.) Ultimately, whatever it was that they had couldn’t survive Mickey, Monica, or Gay Jesus. Trevor wasn’t prepared to deal with a full-blown manic episode, and based on his hands-off approach with involving himself in Ian’s life even before the Mickey-shaped bomb got dropped on them, it doesn’t seem like he really wanted to anyway. He did what he’s always done: prioritized his shelter, which I’m not deriding in the slightest. By that point, Ian was too far gone to care that he disappeared anyway. Had the situation been different and he was getting the support from his family that he needed, it doesn’t seem like he would have cared much there either.

5. Mickey: Finally. Only took over five thousand words to get here. I’ll preface this with something that anyone who knows me from other fandoms is already well aware of, namely that I don’t do romance. Ever. Never been interested. The relationships I’ve always been most passionately interested in are platonic ones, especially “found families” and siblings, which is probably obvious from the other five thousand words here. Ian and Mickey are the first relationship I’ve actively shipped or written for in a fandom. They’re the first I’ve been invested in to this extent. As such, one of the biggest pet peeves I had when I first joined this fandom was the saying, “Ian fell first, Mickey fell harder.” These two wonderful dumbasses face planted on the concrete in front of the Kash and Grab in s1 and never recovered. I could go on forever about these two, but that particular wall of text would probably be too daunting for even the most avid Gallavich stan to traverse, so I’ll keep it fairly brief. As we can see above, Ian has a very strict sense of what he “should” want in a partner. Someone who is moderately successful in their chosen field, makes enough money to at least live comfortably, and typically does something that helps other people (a doctor, a fireman, a youth counselor). These aren’t passionate people. They’re not men who operate on instinct the way most of the people in his life have always had to by virtue of their social standing. They have life goals and opportunities that he envies, and Ian has a great deal of compassion for them when they hit a roadblock or things don’t work out. The amazing dichotomy of Ian Gallagher is that he straddles a line most people can’t between the rough neighborhood that has instilled in him all of his values/behaviors and the middle-class mentality of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and aspiring to more. Ian has always aimed for what Lip said wasn’t possible for poor people: being successful without having to scam or steal. But as I said way back at the beginning of this manifesto, the South Side is his home. His family is his family. And none of the people he’s been with personify the South Side quite like Mickey—they don’t personify home like Mickey.

And I think that’s where the initial draw for Ian is. (I’m going to focus on Ian’s side since he’s who your question focused on.) The other guys look great on paper, and Ian’s brain says that that’s what he should aim for. We know better, though. We know that Ian has an enormous heart that belongs first and foremost to his family and their home. His heart says that this person—this dirty, rude, mean, violent person—is home. His heart says this person is everything about himself that he denies having, just like Ian was everything about Mickey that the latter declined to openly acknowledge for so long. I don’t like relationships built on “making each other better.” I really don’t. The wonderful thing about this is that it’s never been that way. Ian didn’t change Mickey. He’s exactly who he’s always been, but he’s grown past the fear of his own emotions and Terry’s response to them. He’s still a thief, a con artist, violent, and rude. Mickey didn’t change Ian either. He’s still rigidly conforming to certain stereotypes of what he thinks he should want, seeking structure (to his own detriment at times), and not a great communicator. The point for them is that they complement each other, not that they make the other a better person—not even that they bring something out of each other that wasn’t already there. That’s what Ian’s other relationships did. They made him shave off his edges so that he could fit a square peg into a round hole, and that’s not happiness. It’s simply what he thought he was supposed to do—what “normal” people did.

With Mickey, he doesn’t have to worry so much about what is normal or acceptable. He doesn’t have to worry about whether or not his life is objectively “on track,” not until fairly recently. Mickey is the only person he’s ever been with who has accepted him for who he is, faults and strengths alike, without the underlying insinuation that he should be aiming for something else or pretending to be whatever the other person needs him to be in order to care for them. Kash needed an escape—Ian provided it. Ned needed a very specific brand of toy—Ian played that role. Caleb needed a project to feel fulfilled—Ian went along with it for a bit. Trevor needed someone who accepted him as he was but did things his way—Ian did that. To care for Mickey has only ever meant being himself because all Mickey ever really needed was him. Mickey didn’t need an escape from his home—his relationship with his family is more complicated than that. Mickey didn’t need to be saved from his upbringing—it’s what made him the person Ian fell in love with and who he is happy to be. Mickey didn’t need someone to change who he is on a fundamental level because unless it is going to get him into trouble and separate them, Ian never wanted him to. (Even then, it’s about what he does, not who he is.) And yes, I’m sure that there’s a level of excitement that Ian finds exhilarating where Mickey is concerned, but I tend to believe it goes a lot deeper than that. What he finds exciting about Mickey is what Mickey embodies about the South Side—about home. About his own upbringing, but also Ian’s. About Frank and Monica, his siblings, school, work, ROTC—existing and surviving in an environment where it’s not guaranteed that you’ll have money to keep the heat on this winter or feed your family. They spent the early seasons living in a constant state of fight or flight. They couldn’t afford not to. And there’s excitement in that. Look at how many people say that the first seasons are their favorite! There hasn’t been a huge shift in the quality or direction of the writing, just the trajectory of the characters. They’ve gotten older, and their problems have been different. It’s not about survival so much of the time anymore, but those are the storylines that excite us. For Ian, that exhilaration in the constant battle of survival in their neighborhood is sewn into the fiber of his being just like it is Mickey’s. He saw his home in Mickey before they truly fell in love, and when that followed, Mickey became home.

In Conclusion

Ian has spent his entire life looking for the “right” path only to realize that it was laid before him: his family, his small circle of friends, and Mickey. I love that that is coming full circle this season, where [SPOILER ALERT] marriage has almost made him regress a bit to that place where there must be a right way of doing things going forward, and slowly but surely, we’re seeing him loosen up.

Good morning. It’s Ian Gallagher loving hours.

#shameless #ian gallagher #it's ian gallagher loving hours #shameless meta #well that took six hours #and I didn't get more writing done #but I feel accomplished

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the-hs-etaverse · 4 years

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Anyway I was thinking about how many of the Homestucks would probably be considered gifted kids or 2e (twice exceptional or gifted and otherwise neurodivergent for those of you without knowledge of teacher jargon) and it’s a lot of them.

Rose Lalonde. I believe she is gifted, with a particular focus on psychology and the like. She has a prodigious vocabulary, excellent problem-solving (see: her figuring out how to use magic to destroy the gates), and simply put, has a large capacity of knowledge, as befitting her classpect. I would also consider her 2e because I’m projecting on her of her strained maternal relationship and seeming propensity for self-sacrifice.

Dave Strider. I’m kind of iffy on this one? But he’s quite intelligent, no doubt about it, more intelligent than he seems on the surface. I’d say the reason he wouldn’t be considered gifted is because of his upbringing and how he probably languished intellectually, to some degree. God only knows if the perceived depth within SBaHJ is intentional. And if he’s gifted, then he would be 2e because I’m sure he has some sort of other issue. He’s a troubled kid, to say the least.

Jade Harley. She’s extremely intelligent. She can construct robots and has a strong grasp of nuclear physics and quantum dynamics. She also stuffed her own grandfather while she was five (!) and generally has prodigious independence.

Roxy Lalonde. Like Dave, I’m iffy on this one, but she is a talented computer programmer and is generally much smarter than she seems on the surface. I’d consider her 2e if only because she was an alcoholic by the age of 16.

Dirk Strider. He has built numerous robots. He survived completely on his own ever since he was born. He made an AI based off his own brain. He wrote Detective Pony and thereby showed a powerful grasp of both etymology and classic literature. And he’s a Strilonde, and giftedness seems to run in the family. He also has a lot of neuroses, so he’s 2e by extension.

I’m... I’m unsure about Aradia Megido, to be honest. I’m leaning towards her not being gifted, that she’s simply been aged beyond her years by her experiences. She’s smart, though, for sure.

Sollux Captor. He’s a very talented programmer. I feel like he’s just generally very intelligent. And given his bipolar disorder, he’s 2e.

Kanaya Maryam. Again, I’m very iffy on this one. I’m not really sure what she’s most proficient in? I mean she’s very creative, for sure. And she’s quite literate. I guess I’m leaning towards yes, she is gifted? But then again, she is very mature. ... you know what, in retrospect, because of the bewildering complexity of neuroses presented by virtually all the Homestuck characters, I would consider all of the gifted ones to be 2e. Kanaya might be the lone exception. Might be. I have my own headcanons about her, but they’re not firmly grounded in canon.

Terezi Pyrope. Very creative. Sees the world in a strange way. Raised both herself AND her lusus. (I mean, she’s in an egg, but STILL.) Very logical.

Equius Zahhak. He is very mature for a thirteen-year-old, though maybe that’s just expected of him as both a highblood and an Alternian. He also builds his own robots from scratch.

Mituna Captor. I’m not entirely sure? But I’m pretty sure that he’s an awful lot smarter than he might seem at first glance.

... I’m reluctant to call Kankri Vantas gifted? I mean, he seems pretty smart, and he is a Seer. But he just doesn’t strike me as the type.

Aranea Serket. Know-it-all. Terrible social skills. Excellent memory. And she’s a Light player, which is tied to knowledge. But I would not consider Vriska gifted. She simply is not that intelligent. All offense meant.

Horuss Zahhak. I know like zilch about him, but he is a sort of jack of all trades, very good at a lot of different things, if I remember correctly. So let’s just throw him in there and see what happens.

I know basically nothing about Kurloz Makara. Just throwing this out there in case anyone who actually knows anything about him has an opinion.

All in all, my low estimate is 8 (Rose, Jade, Dirk, Sollux, Terezi, Equius, Mituna, and Aranea), and my high estimate is 14 (everyone listed), out of 32 main characters (counting the cherubs). That is a very high proportion. But, then again, if you’re picking kids to start a new civilization and be the last survivors of their planet, you ought to pick some really impressive ones.

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obsessedbutonline · 4 years

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obsessedbutonline Masterlist

Started: 24/12/2020

Last updated: 24/12/2020

Total works: 9

Teen Wolf

Title: Amateurs

Rating: General Audiences

Chapters: 1/?

Word count: 4369

Tags: Spark Stiles Stilinski, Magic, Stiles Stilinski Returns, Emissary Stiles Stilinski,Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Bromance, Alpha Derek Hale, Good Derek Hale, Good Peter Hale,Good Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Teacher Stiles Stilinski, Roadtrip, Training

Summary: When Stiles is offered a position at a far-away pack to train a young spark, he didn't expect to bring along a certain Peter Hale. Becoming a powerful, nation-wide known emissary comes with certain perks, and also responsibilities- how does Stiles cope?- Written for the Steter Secret Santa

Other comments: This one is a favourite of mine and one I’m super inspired for! It was for the steter secret santa 2020, and I was late for that sadly, but my giftee, archercrow, was AMAZING about it and I got it to them on the 29th (:

Title: Temporary Love

Rating: General Audiences

Chapters: 3/?

Word count: 3087

Tags: College Student Stiles Stilinski, College, Human, Alternate Universe - Human, Family, Family Fluff, Derek Hale is a Softie, Deputy Derek Hale, Misunderstandings, Stiles Stilinski's Jeep's Name is Roscoe, Stiles Stilinski Returns

Summary: From the prompt: Stiles’ Babcia (grandmother) is fiercely independent and lives in an apartment in Beacon Hills and Stiles used to go over on the weekends and run errands for her. But then Stiles goes to college and can’t make it home as much as he likes, and when he does go home he goes straight to Babcia’s apartment ready to do her bidding and she’s like, “Oh, no, Słoneczko, that nice boy Derek down the hall already got my groceries and fixed my sink…” And Stiles gets really jealous of this Derek guy, but Derek works weekends (Deputy!Derek FTW) so they never actually meet. Stiles nurses this simmering rage that some interloper is bogarting his grandmother. In the meantime Derek is just soaking up the family feels and becoming more and more enamoured of the elusive Mieczysław that babcia keeps showing him pictures of and telling him stories about, “the most handsome, brilliant, caring young boy you could ever meet…” -dr.girlfriend on tumblr

Other comments: Named after the amazing song of the same name by Ben Platt, this fic is inspired by a prompt! It has yet to be finished, but I’m working on it, promise! It’s just slow going.

Title: A Change Of Pace

Rating: General Audiences

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 1070

Tags: Empath Stiles Stilinski, stetersecretsanta2019, Fluff

Summary: Stiles has always struggled to contain the effects of being an empath- Peter, like he always seems to do, worms his way through the cracks. My entry for the Steter Secret Santa 2k19, enjoy!

Other comments: Once again, another secret santa entry! For this one, I dabbled into making Stiles an empath, I’m pretty sure that was one of the requests of my secret santa-ee, so that’s what I did! If inspiration strikes, I feel like I could definitely expand on this story, but it works as a short story just as well.

Title: On Christmas Eve

Rating: General Audiences

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 5285

Tags: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Post-Nogitsune, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Pain, Dreams and Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Depression, Isolation, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles, Stilinski Christmas, Christmas Eve, Illnesses, Mental Health Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, Possession, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Bromance, Emotionally Constipated Derek Hale, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Pack Feels

Summary: Looking up at the ceiling in exasperation, Stiles shook his head in disbelief. "Great, so now we're taking in strays. Awesome, just how I wanted to spend my Christmas Eve." ... "Yeah," Stiles agreed, breathlessly, "-friends." ... How Stiles' copes with the possession of the Nogitsune over the next five Christmas Eve's. This is my entry for the 2019 Sterek Secret Santa (:

Other comments: This is one of my absolute FAVOURITE fics I’ve written, and it kind of follows the 5+1 trope, but I don’t think there are six different parts. Anyway, this was obviously written for the 2k19 Sterek Secret Santa, and I just want to once again mention how worth it is to join a writing secret santa!! The Sterek one in particular is VERY well set up, so it’s an amazing one to start with!

Title: Missing Parts (In My Brain)

Rating: General Audiences

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 1410

Tags: Fluff, Pining, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, 12 Days of Sterek, Christmas, Christmas Party, Christmas Fluff

Summary: Pining has always been something Stiles has been spectacularly good at. But really? This is going too far. Christmas parties aren't Christmas parties unless at least one couple lays the PDA on heavy, and it all gets Stiles thinking. Written for 12 Days Of Sterek 2019 (:

Other comments: As I wrote in the summary, this was written for the 12 days of Sterek! I don’t think there was a prompt or anything, but this fic has a heavy theme of asexuality, which I wrote for the purpose of putting more diversity into my fics.

Title: The Peculiarities of Demetrius Blotting and Papers

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 1414

Tags: Magical Stiles Stilinski, Magic, Faery Court, Fae & Fairies, Nymphs & Dryads, Mythology - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Library, Library, Witches, Nature, Magic, Bookshop

Summary: Working in the most magically profound bookshop is a walk in the park. Until it isn't. When a stranger comes looking for a registry of one of the most well-known wolf packs in America, Stiles finds himself intrigued. And unfairly invested in making the guy smile. And if it takes a bit of sneaking to do that, then that's nobodies business but his own, right?

Other comments: I actually do not remember where this fic was going! But it never got further than the first chapter unfortunately (I hope I can update this, someday). It’s about the fae!

Title: Visiting the Hales

Rating: General audiences

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 1513

Tags: Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Death, Grief/Mourning, Stiles Stilinski Helps Derek Hale, Love, Birthday, The Hale Family, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski, One Shot

Summary: It's taken years for them to reach this stage.Stiles hurts when Derek hurts, but he will gladly shoulder the pain if it lessens Derek's even in the slightest.It's time to visit the Hales.

Other comments: This is literally just a super short angst-fest, I think I was listening to a sad song when I got struck with inspiration, and this is the result! Enjoy if you want some sad! Sterek.

Title: Us Struggling Youth

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Chapters: 23/?

Word count: 27555

Tags: Mental Health Issues, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, sterek, Self-Harm, Depression, OCD, Anxiety, Therapy, Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Human, Slow Burn, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Slow Build, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Sad, Light Angst, Triggers, Emotional, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Emotional, teenwolf, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Hurt Stiles, Bromance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Kissing, LGBTQ Themes, Mental Breakdown, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Teen Derek Hale, Teen Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Teenage Rebellion, Camping, Nostalgia, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Bipolar Disorder, Worry, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings

Summary: Stiles never wanted to go to a school for crazy people, but with his history with self-harm and worsening anxiety, his dad thought it was the place he needed to be. But when the management is at threat, the pupils decide that they deserve some time away, and the camp of the ages was born. What happens when a group of not so well teens decide they want to rebel for one final hurrah?Because when sparks fly in a pit of flames, it can be hard to see past the manic of The Rosedale Academy For Struggling Youth.

Other comments: This is my second longest fic after Only He Saw, and is currently unfinished. Will I finish it? Unknown, but likely not. I got really into the AU Boarding School trope, and this was the result, but then I ran out of inspiration, which is sad because I had a whole storyline planned out. If it ever comes back, I’ll be sure to continue writing it!

Title: The Cookie Incident

Rating: General Audiences

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 2225

Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Children, Alternate Universe, Steter Secret Santa

Summary: Stiles goes on a baking spree, with the help of a certain six-year-old, much to the dismay of Peter.

Other comments: This was written for the 2018 Steter Secret Santa, and was written based on the likes of my secret santa-ee. I’d 10000% recommend doing a writing Secret Santa if you want to get into writing fics! You’re surrounded by other people doing the same thing as you, you have a deadline, and you get a present in return! I love doing them, and I’ve been doing both the Sterek and Steter secret santas for three years now. It’s a fluff-fest, that’s all!

Title: Only He Saw

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Chapters: 31/31

Word count: 45,781

Tags: Angst, Eventual fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Heartbreak, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self Harm, Razor - Freeform, Razors, Anxiety, Darkness, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Panic Attacks, Erica, Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Has Scars, Scars, Sad, Crying, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, Hurt Stiles, Cars, Rich Peter, Caring Peter, Peter hale - Freeform, Feels, mansion, Rebuilt Hale House, mean derek hale, steter feels, elastic band technique, self harm alternatives, Self Confidence Issues, Grief/Mourning, Grieving Peter, Blood, trigger warning, Heavy Angst, Neglected Stiles Stilinski, Busy Sherriff, Nurturing Peter Hale, Good Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski is a Bad Parent, Torture, Tortured Stiles Stilinski, Peter forgives Stiles, Depressed Stiles, Angst with a Happy Ending, Small pack, Car rides, Revenge, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Non-Evil Peter Hale, halepackareevil, evilhalepack, badderek, goodpeter, Emotions, POV Stiles, Asexual Character, Asexual Stiles Stilinski, Werau.

Summary: When the pack stopped telling him about meetings, Stiles laughed. It wasn't surprising that they forgot to update his number when their phones kept getting destroyed by the monster of the week...right? They just forgot. That happened. All the time! Too often. When the pack stopped giving excuses for forgetting, a deserving prickle of fear and trepidation etched its way into his heart, making his usually cocky and brave smile falter and leave. Only when they weren't watching. When they went out of their way to stop him going to meetings, he stopped smiling altogether. Only where they couldn't see. But it's fine, right? He was part of a family that loved him and just wanted to keep him safe...right? But when Derek used the door instead of the window to get into Stile's house, as small and insignificant a fact that may be, he accepted that something was wrong.

Other comments: This was the first fic I ever wrote, and you can tell! I wrote this story over a long time, but for the majority of it, I’d upload 1000 word chapters every day, which really helped my writing develop. I was in a super dark place when I wrote this, and I think you can tell, but I keep it up because it shows how far my writing’s come. I’m proud of how far I’ve come since OHS!

Title: ____

Rating: ___

Chapters: ___

Word count: ____

Tags: ____

Summary: ____

Other comments: ___

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isitreallyok · 4 years

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Productivity and ADHD

We’re back at it again dear readers. As you all may have noticed there hasn’t been much in the realm of content this week which funnily enough brings me to our topic. I wanted to take a little bit to address productivity as a concept and talk a bit about my pressures in trying to maintain schedules.

Productivity seems like a really broad topic to try to cover.

It definitely is so I’ll leave it relevant to how it impacts my day to day and how I try to cope with it. Productivity is something that I have always struggled with. A part of my bipolar disorder comes with a steaming hot side of ADHD. Many people who don’t have experience with ADHD think that it is just people who can’t sit still or are constantly needing to do ten things at a time. While not entirely inaccurate, there is a lot more to ADHD than just this.

My experience with ADHD comes in a number of forms and one of those is starting a myriad of projects and not sticking with any of them until completion. This blog is just one example of that. When I first started things up I wanted to maintain a really tight Monday, Wednesday, Friday posting schedule so that I had routine content and a regular way to reflect on the challenges that life has been throwing my way. I got a post up Monday and now it is Saturday at 10 PM and we are only now at the second post for the week.

That isn’t a huge deal though. Like you mentioned when you first started your blog, this is a personal blog so you can feel free to work whenever you are able. There shouldn’t be any pressure about posting here.

You’re right. However here is what I have been working with. This entire week I have had idea after idea about what I want to write about and how I want to go through it. There are so many post ideas at this point that I have forgotten about half of them and sadly I lost the document I thought I had saved them in so lets just wait until the inspiration strikes again. The problem I’ve run in to is not actually that I have not wanted to write it’s that instead I have been in a place where I have been hyper focused on something else and by the time I even think to write for the evening it’s two days later.

A little peek behind the curtain would show that I have scheduled most of my posts to go up at or around noon on the normal release days. They are actually written a day or two in advance to give myself a bit of leeway just in case things get too long or the topic I’m working on writing about becomes too much in that moment. This week, rather than writing I have been hyper focused on Christmas shopping and finishing up my watch through of Kamen Rider Zero-One. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but I put myself under a bit of pressure about getting a post up when I went four days without actually blogging.

Why pressure yourself though? The blog is still small and all that is going to do is hamper your productivity even more.

Now you’re getting it. The thing about the way that my ADHD works is that I either have to have four things going on at once or I’m hyper focused on a singular task and don’t stop until it is completely perfectly. Often times the focal point of what I’m doing bounces between the two. Instead of simply working on things leisurely to a point where I’m content with what I have written and then posting it I find myself usually playing a video game or watching a television series while I’m working. At the same time as doing both of these things I also manage to be holding at least one, though usually closer to three, different conversations via Facebook Messenger topics as well as doing something on my phone that is also completely unrelated to any other task I’m performing in that moment as well.

Circling back for a moment to my hyper-fixation issue, the thing that I find myself focused on is not often the task at hand. Often times it is one of the many other things that I go am doing in the moment that becomes the task that has my attention. Usually these tasks are things that I would consider lower priorities, but require less brain power to complete. A problem of mine that I have that I am working towards changing is that when I hyper-fixate on something it must be done perfectly. When writing this means heavily editing something to the point of being willing to publish what I’ve written in that moment, when gaming it means that I have to achieve high scores, when cooking ingredients must be handled precisely, et cetera. Despite the fact that they require less brain power and effort to complete, the things that get my attention during a shift towards hyper-fixation typically become incredibly exhausting to work on.

If you’re unable to control what you fixate on when you’re multitasking, why not make all parts of the multitask related to the content you are trying to put out?

This is a very good point that to be completely honest has not been something that I have attempted very often. The difficulty when it comes to a large portion of things I write about here is that in order for me to do that I typically would need to have articles relating to the topics at hand up. Often times I will do a definition search to make sure that I know the top results to establish a baseline of what people may already understand about a topic, but finding videos relating to topics to have playing on a secondary screen while working and also reading an article about things isn’t always feasible.

For example, when I sat down to write this post I got distracted by Kamen Rider and put it on hold for a few hours because when I finished the episode I was on I had to go to the store. I got back and thought about how I wanted to address the topic and started with a google search of just the word productivity. I found a lot of information in the top results regarding workplace productivity and productivity of manufacturing, but not a whole lot regarding personal productivity in the day to day tasks. So rather than actually relating any of what we are talking about here to the workplace, I decided to just kind of wing it and go a different route. Without having that information present my mind jumped to about forty five different places, including about fifteen unrelated topics.

So while doing that works wonders in some aspects of the day to day, I don’t think that it will serve as a catch all.

I’m beginning to see a bit of what you mean about productivity being tricky to manage.

Despite all of the problems with hyper-fixation and focus issues, one of the biggest issues that I have with productivity actually has nothing to do with these factors or the pressure I put on myself to perform. Instead the problem stems from my own expectations of myself. As I mentioned earlier, the proclivity towards perfection when I put something out into the world with my name on it definitely exists. This means that if I’m not happy with something I typically will not release it. Seems fair enough, right? Well not quite.

I have found that sometimes when I focus on getting things just right before I release something I am actually not concerned about the product, but instead I am worried about failure. Thoughts akin to “What if people don’t like what I’m doing with this?”, “Will my audience truly understand the point I’m trying to make?”, and even “I understand this reference but it’s so niche I’m pretty sure that no one else will.” go through my head all the time as I’m working on various personal projects. These thoughts inhibit my ability to maintain productivity in what I’m working on and often result in dropping the task entirely before completing even a draft that I could release in the future.

How will you know what people think about your work if you never are able to release it though?

Ah, the age old question of would I be successful if I tried? It’s such a tricky thing. I find myself wanting to release a ton of different things that I have tried to work on. I even have managed to push myself out of my comfort zone to do exactly that in sharing ongoing projects as I am working on them. I’ve found that accountability does help me to have the desire to continue to work on projects because even when I receive negative feedback it still gives me a way to improve in the future, even if it feels bad to hear in the moment.

I have found that working on showing myself a little bit of compassion when it comes to putting out things that I may not find perfect has been wonderful. Though I’ll discuss more on self compassion in the future. Allowing myself the freedom to understand that perfection is a concept best forgotten about and accepting that failure is a part of striving towards success has been monumental in allowing myself the ability to set more attainable goals in my projects. Without that line of thinking, I likely would not have had the courage to make these posts public and to allow myself to be so vulnerable with the entire internet.

As usual though at this point we have strayed pretty far from the topic that I had originally planned for today. Initially this post going to be about productivity in the more mundane aspects of daily life. I think that will be the thing that we talk about next time. So now that we know what will be discussed next time here are our reminders three. You are stronger than you think, you are beautiful, and gosh darnit you are worth it! Keep kickin butt and I’ll see you next time, lovelies!

#ADHD #Mental health awareness #Mental Health #bipolar #productivity #perfectionist #projects #self help

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rose-demica · 4 years

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Short Prompt Collection

Fandom: Doctor Who, New Doctor Who,

Series: Something of a Bother,

Pairings: The Doctor (Ten) / The Lady, The Master (Simms)/ The Keeper

Summary: Short collection of prompts that are too small to post alone: Co-written.

"In case of Dalek, use stairs"

"This way Ponds, Ladies!" The Doctor called turning the corner and running towards the elevators.

"Doctor?" The Lady asked making the mad-man hesitate. He looked back at her questioningly.

"Stairs." Was all she said as the Keeper opened the door. She hussled the Ponds through the door grabbed holds of The Lady and The Doctor and yanked them into the stairwell just as the Daleks rounded the corner.

"Bloody brilliant!"

"Love you too." The Ladies said in unison.

"Promises to show companion distant planets and galaxies...spends majority of time in London."

"Doctor?" Amy asked while the Tardis floated through the time space continum.

"Yes Amy?"

"I've been talking with the Keeper, and she's pointed out a very interesting point."

"Oh and what's that?" The Doctor returned to his lounging, hands behind his head feet up on the consol.

"You promised me we'd travel to faraway planets and Galaxies."

"Yes."

"But, we spend most of our time in London. Why is that?" The Doctor looked at her startled. He opened his mouth to reply then closed it again, glaring slightly at Amy.

"You're not allowed to talk to the Keeper anymore." He announced before returning to his lounging position.

"I like my men how I like my tea, hot and British."

"Lady, what are you doing?" The Doctor asked as he stepped into the grand dining room.

"Taste testing tea." She replied before taking a sip. She grimaced at the taste and promptly set the teacup on the table before picking up another.

"Why?"

"Because I can, Doctor, why else?" The Lady gave him a devilish smirk before taking another sip.

"Hmm." Her lips pressed together in concentration.

"I think I've come to a decision."

"About the tea?"

"Oui."

"So?"

"It appears that I like my tea exactly the same way I like my men." The Lady stood and sauntered over to him draping her arms around his neck casually.

"Oh?" The Doctor said smirking as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

"Hot and British."

"If there's one thing I learned from the Doctor, it's to push all the buttons."

"Is this safe?" Rory yelled as red alien letters rapidly flashed across the screen.

"Probably not." The Lady admitted as she scanned the screens trying to read the words that were flashing much too quickly.

"Rory, I need you to do something very important." Rory looked at the Lady surprised by the seriousness in her voice. Her face was virtually stone-like only her pursed lips giving away the gravity of the situation.

"What can I do Lady?" Rory asked trying not to panic.

"Push that button."

"Which one?"

"All of them."

"Lady, that can't be wise!"

"Rory, listen, I'm 900 years old and if I've only learned one thing I learned it from the Doctor. PUSH ALL THE BUTTONS." The Lady slammed her hands down on her side of the control panel hitting as many of the buttons as she could.

"Aye aye ma'am." Rory mimicked and he too began pushing every knob and button within his reach.

The room gave a great shudder and then everything was still.

"Crisis averted, darling!" Rory looked at the Lady in amazement; could Timelords be bipolar?

"Getting to the part of the book where the title actually makes sense."

"No, no it couldn't be." The Doctor muttered while he paced.

"But it has to be!" He exclaimed angirly turning around and pacing back towards his four companions. The Lady was watching him pace, Amy was examining her nails, Rory was leaning against a nearby pole, and The Keeper had her nose buried in the book she had been reading the entire day.

"But something isn't adding up!" The Doctor let out an aggravated yell.

"I get it now!" The Keeper yelled in triumph gaining the attention of the other four.

"They're Vampires who aren't vampires but a totally new subspecies that is actually older than the tale of vampires. The Humans just lobbed them all together because of their appearance." The Doctor regarded the Keeper for a second before pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

"You brilliant Time Lady! Their Saturnynian!" The Doctor released the Keeper who gave him a funny look.

"What?" She asked.

"That's what Signora Calvierri and her son and those girls have become!" The Doctor exclaimed oblivious to the Keeper's confusion. The Keeper turned to the other three with a questioning look.

"Makes sense." The Lady supplied, while Amy and Rory returned the confused Time Lady's blank stare.

"I was talking about my book." The Keeper said looking back to the Doctor like he had finally lost the last of his marbles.

"Your...book?" He asked finally noting the confusion claiming the room.

"From my cotton tail to my Bunny ears to the tips of my blood soaked fangs." The Doctor read as the Keeper held her book up.

"The Tardis recommended it to me."

"Vampires, at least they don't sparkle."

"What are they?" Amy whispered as the pale girls started to surround the two women.

"Vampires. At least I think." The Lady quipped trying to lighten the quickly darkening mood. One girl hissed at them, baring vicious fangs.

"I thought vampires were.. .well..."

"At least they don't sparkle Amy. For that I am grateful."

Anagram.

"How long have you know The Doctor, Captain?" The Keeper asked lifting her head from her book.

"A few years, why?"

"And he's topping your most wanted list." It wasn't a question and Jack suddenly wondered where this was going.

"I'm not going to turn him in, if that's what you’re getting at." Jack said trying to defend himself.

"Don't get your feathers in a ruffle, I merely wanted to know why Queen Victoria would anagram the name of her new organisation after the name of the number one most wanted criminal on said organisation's list?" Jack looked at the Keeper before grabbing a piece of paper and a pen.

"I'll be damned." Turning back to the Keeper who had been patiently waiting for her answer he just shrugged. She shrugged back and returned to her book.

Jenny?

“Jenny?” The Doctor pulled the Lady to a stop, and forcing everyone to a stop behind them, the Master and The Keeper very nearly skidding into the backs of Amy and Rory.

“Hey Dad!”

“DAD?” The Lady Shrieks, turning on the doctor.

“It’s not like that!” He said quickly,

“Not like what Dad?” Jenny demanded, and the Doctor’s eyes flicked between the two.

“Doctor, what’s going on?” Amy asked,

“Guys, this is my daughter, Jenny.” The Doctor held the Lady’s hands by her side.

“My Lady, she was created in a war, using a Progenation Machine, the one that takes your DNA and makes a fully fledged human, but because it was my DNA she, must be,”

“A time Lady, well kind of, I don’t regenerate, I heal, and it seems I age. but otherwise, I’m the closest it’s ever gonna get.” Jenny said, and instantly the Lady turned on her.

“The closest it’s ever get?! You’re standing in the presence of two REAL Time Ladies.” The Doctor rested a hand on The Ladies shoulder,

“Oh really?” Jenny challenged,

“Mi’Lady.” The Keeper warned,

“I saw you die.” The Doctor stated,

“They shot you, and you died in my arms , how are you alive?” He added,

“Apparantly you didn’t wait around long enough, and this was the only way I could think of to get your attention.”

“Nearly blowing up a whole planet!?”

“Doc, you said she was ‘born’ during a war oui?” The Master interrupted,

“Yes, on the planet Messaline.”

“So all she knows is war, she was ‘born’ with that knowledge as to how, and the beliefs that was alright, so she wouldn’t know any better than to blow up a planet to get your attention, in fact, It’d never even think it as wrong, it’s the way she was made.”

“Who are you!?” Jenny demanded,

“Me? I’m the Master, I must be the cool uncle.”

“You’re related,” Jenny pointed to both the Master and the Doctor,

“Nope, childhood friends, we all are.” The Keeper said, before either of the boys could reply.

“Anyway, back to blowing up the planet.” The Doctor turned to Jenny.

“It’s not like it mattered, I mean, have you seen their race?” Jenny motioned to one of the aliens that was standing outside the reinforced glass door.

She had a gargola shaped face, with the long extended mouth that opened to reveal pointed razor sharp teeth. Her eyes were wide and beady, black swirls of darkness seen within, her nose almost looked human, but had long, wide nostrils that resembled a horses in design. She had pointed wolf-like ears that sat on both sides of her face, where on a humanoid would have their ears.

She had wildebeest horns upon the top of her head, amongst stringy black hair that also was used to cover up her disfigured face. Her torso was very humanoid like, but instead of muscle and fat, there was only skin and bone, like she was wasting away to nothing, she wore a black corset that left her bony, ruin covered arms bare, at the end of those humaniod arms were hands that resembled an eagle’s talons, her fingers were long and slender, with shary pointed nails at the end that looked like they were made to rip and tear things to shreds.

A tattered skirt covered her thin hips, and went down to where her knees should have been, but instead of knees she had two serpent tails that wrapped together, solidifying the joint so she could stand like a human, at the end of those tails were spikes that were infused with a deadly poison that would kill anyone in a heartbeat.

From her back were 18 bones that curved forward around her body, there was 9 on each side, and they easily resembled spiders legs, and one could easily imagine that they would trap prey close into the huntresses body.

The Shifter Of Darkness hunts on moonless nights, transforming into a beautiful human woman, or a helpless child, luring the victim closer until they strike. They only have one weakness, they are slow, so if you can get away, run! They can be killed, but only with a carefully aimed shot through the heart.

“That doesn’t mean they deserve to die!” The Doctor snarled,

“Look at them, they’re coping the best they can, that was the way they were made! And you can’t punish people for being themselves.”

“I have a question.” Amy said, and all eyes flicked to her.

“All you lot have titles, right? The whole first name holds immense power thing, but you, you have a name, why?” She continued,

“Well...” The Doctor ran his hand through his hair nervously, deliberately not looking at the Lady.

“One of my previous companions named her.”

“But why Jenny?” Amy demanded

“I called her a generated anomaly. Donna repeated generated till she got Jenny.”

“Oh, so this mysterious companion has a name now!” The Lady snapped,

“Actually, I liked her, where’d she and that Martha chick go?”

“Martha got engaged, to Mickey, remember me telling you bout him, he was Rose’s boyfriend for a while, anyway Martha then joined U.N.I.T became a Doctor, then switched to Torchwood, Donna, she had to loose all her memories, shes with a nice man now.”

“Wasn’t Rose-” The Doctor motioned to her to stop but Jenny missed it,

“The human companion you were in love with? Had to go to a parallel universe, and all of that.”

“Thanks.” The Doctor said sarcastically to Jenny, before facing the Lady,

“Can we please do this later?”

“I’m all for it happening now!” The Master stated, somehow managing to get a large thing of popcorn.

“Master!?” The Keeper asked,

“Oh, Sorry Darling, would you like some popcorn?” He offered it to her,

“I swear there weren’t seats here before.” Rory remarked, as he glanced behind him, and sat down. Amy joining him, while the Master and the Keeper sat in another chair.

“Ready and Action!” The Master laughed, looking at the Doctor, the Lady, and Jenny.

“What, you think we’re gonna fight for your amusement?” Jenny demanded,

“Oh, lets fill you in, The Lady loves the Doctor, the Doctor loves the Lady, both have been friends since childhood, so they don’t want to leave that friendship faze, but they’re right on the verge of a relationship, and they flirt, and The Lady’s new regeneration gets really jealous.”

“Can we go back to the, she almost blew up a planet thing!?” The Doctor asked, turning to Jenny.

“Alright I get it, I was wrong I won’t do it again. Can you take me back to my ship, and I’ll be out of your hair.” Jenny said,

“Yea, Lets get out of here.” The Lady turned on her heels and left the room, and the aliens left her alone.

“Because you saved our planet, we will let you live, today.” Their empress spoke.

“Well, Lets go.” Everyone stood, and the Master stopped to speak to one of them.

“Thanks very much for the popcorn.”

“No trouble.” She replied,

“You can keep it if you wish?” The Master chuckled,

“Oh no I couldn’t my girlfriend would be very unhappy, but thank you so much for the offer.” The Master handed her back the popcorn, and put his arm around her waist and held her tight.

“Those two?” Jenny asked Amy and Rory, who she was walking with.

“Yea, I have no idea how long, but they’ve been like this since we found the master.”

“And the four of them?”

“Childhood friends on Gallifrey from what we can tell, The Doctor ran off with the Tardis, The two girls got sent away in the Lady’s tardis, and The Master ran away with the Keepers tardis, which he hid somewhere, and he can’t remember where.”

#doctor who #tenth doctor #Crack fic #Fanfiction #Something of a Bother #Master (Simms)#The Lady #The Keeper #Amy and Rory

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fierceawakening · 4 years

Note

⚡️ Per the DSM, ASPD requires fulfilling at least one of the seven sub-features, which can include a history of crime, but doesn't require it. Some of the other Criterion A sub-features are pretty alarming behavior that constitute a safety hazard, but others, like "impulsive behavior" and "a pattern of irresponsibility" are extremely open to interpretation, and can cover everything from seriously damaging behavior to "I will label these ordinary flaws in the most stigmatizing way possible."

oh my gosh! an actual answer that isn’t just “frce u meen”

THANK YOU

anyway, this is the list:

A. A pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others, occurring since age 15 years, as indicated by three (or more) of the following: 1. Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors, as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest. 2. Deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases or conning others for personal profit or pleasure. 3. Impulsivity or failure to plan ahead. 4. Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults. 5. Reckless disregard for safety of self or others. 6. Consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations. 7. Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated or stolen from another. B. The individual is at least age 18 years. C. There is evidence of conduct disorder with onset before age 15 years. D. The occurrence of antisocial behavior is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.

So the idea you’re proposing, from what I gather, is “what if the person has the most innocuous three of these criteria though”

And I mean, it’s a judgment call which three those are, but here are the ones I personally find Not Scary and what we’d get:

A pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others, occurring since age 15 years, as indicated by:

Impulsivity or failure to plan ahead. (people can do bad things on whim, and a lot of us do, but we also can do plenty of neutral or good things on whim!)

Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors, as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest. (For example, if we think using drugs or doing sex work shouldn’t be illegal at all, then there’s a lot that could go here that we actually don’t mind. My suspicion is that this is meant to cover things most of us think are rightly illegal, not just things we argue about in PHIL 102, but teeeeechnically... okay.)

And then... okay let’s try to find a third... hmm

Deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases or conning others for personal profit or pleasure.

Well, I mean, all of us lie sometimes, so “repeated lying” could be any human... but... hmm, aliases? I mean I guess you could argue people have, like... pen names or user names, but those aren’t really ALIASES... er... conning others? no, that’s always bad... for personal profit it’s already shitty (EAT THE RICH right?) but for pleasure? seems dickish, if not maybe even sadistic. This seems bad.

Okay, next?

Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults.

Well, aggressiveness is a bad thing to hang stuff on. A lot of mental illnesses make people aggressive without necessarily making them violent! Hell,. my therapist calls me “high aggression” and all I do is Internet fights, sparring, BDSM, and writing blood-filled nonsense in my stor... uh... wait... repeated fights? Hmm, I mean, I guess there could be situations where someone is in a violent situation and has to repeatedly defend thems... wait assaults? Huh. This is starting to sound like someone who means it. This seems bad.

Reckless disregard for safety of self or others.

I know some really daredevil people. One of my play partners some years back had seriously injured his back diving around a rocky waterfall, burned off a swath of his chest hair and the skin underneath trying fire play irresponsibly, and done a whole litany of odd risky things that had my eyebrows traveling to the dark side of my head. But he seemed happy. You do you, boo.

“...or others.”

Wait, no, no, as soon as you stick other people in there that seems bad.

Consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations.

Fuck capitalism, right? Not everyone can work! Except wait, if somebody hired you that means you SAID you could, and you’re not reliable for others in that workplace. What are you doing to help them or ensure they’re not covering for you? If nothing, this seems bad.

Same issue with “not honor financial obligations.” If you’re just poor that’s fine, but if, again, you’re going around promising you will or can pay, inducing other people to rely on that money you’re not going to give them, this seems bad.

Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated or stolen from another.

Okay, I gotta admit, this one creeps me out so maybe I’m misanalyzing it due to EMOTION.

But if you hurt me and you don’t mind it, I mean, shame on you for taking advantage of me, but also, shame on me for expecting you to feel bad about things you don’t feel bad about?

So it seems like I should avoid this person, probably.

But even supposing some weird mental gymnastics like “someone who doesn’t mind having hurt you can still have valid reasons to apologize” I still think this one falls apart, because

“being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from”

That’s not just “I don’t tend to have Big Feelz when I upset my friends but I still fix things.” That’s “I don’t care about it” and/or “I explain it away.” This seems bad.

So three of these criteria, even the three most innocuous, lands me at “Oh God that’s IFFY!” And that’s if I’m being REALLY, REALLY SOLICITOUS.

So it seems to me that what I said, “you probably shouldn’t become close with sociopaths unless you’re trained in dealing with them,” is... reasonable. Even if it’s not an obvious conclusion, it still strikes me as a defensible one.

Especially given “A pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others.” Like... someone’s been demonstrating willingness to DISREGARD AND VIOLATE MY RIGHTS since AGE FIFTEEN and I’m mean if I avoid them? The hell?

By that logic don’t we all owe a BFF bracelet to like, Lindsey Graham? He’s (arguably) only been doing it since it became cool.

Which is why I’m so baffled.

I mean, I know that interacting with the psychiatric system is draining, and I feel bad for people who tend not to be able to find social circles outside the system. But I don’t understand what’s supposed to stem from that exactly. When I say “no one is obligated to hang out with someone they’re suspicious of” people say “no one said that.” So I’m left ????ing.

#the empathy discussion #Anonymous

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tinabritton-photography · 5 years

Text

National Portrait Gallery and Stills Gallery . . . Not Finished!

Edinburgh Exhibition Trip!

On Wednesday 25th September we travelled by bus to Edinburgh to vistit the National Portrait Gallery and the Stills Gallery. We visited the exhibition titled ‘Artist Rooms: Self Evidence/Woodman,Arbus,Mapplethorpe.

When entering the gallery, the first photographer I encountered at the exhibition is one I have researched before; Francesca Woodman (April 3, 1958 – January 19, 1981) an American photographer. I have long since admired her work. Below is the first ever image I researched of Francesca Woodman, however, due to Tumblr rules, I cannot show it in its entirety.

(AWARE Women artists / Femmes artistes, 2019) (Image above)

I was always particularly interested in the image above. Francesca is sitting in a chair, nude, her hands between her knees. She is far away from the camera. White paper has been nailed up behind her, possibly to prevent prying eyes from viewing her nakedness, or it could be to help diffuse the light, which I believe is most probable. A shadow image of a body is burned into the floor. Is it meant to be her? Some have deduced that she is portending her demise - that the image on the floor is her ‘chalk outline’ like would be seen at the scene of a crime. When I first saw this image, I found the burnt image in the floor distracting. Was this her intention? I believe so. Morbidity outweighs the nude woman in the corner. Death and darkness interest us more that the beautiful woman aglow in the diffuse light from the window. This is how I read this image.

Francesca Woodman was April 3rd 1958 in Denver, Colorado and took her own life, passing away on 19th January, 1981 in New York.

I fell in love with Woodman’s work, before I ever heard her story. And her story, broke my heart. As I write these words, and let’s get this over with, you are all thinking the words that seem to have meaning for everyone who views her images, “But didn’t she kill herself jumping from a window?” I find I am struck with anger each time someone has to mention this fact when speaking of her work. I can speak of Van Gogh’s paintings without first saying, ‘oh, but did you know he cut off his ear?’ Somehow in this crazy screwed up world, someone deems that her work is more viable by mentioning her death, instead of her life. Sad really. There are many, and by many I mean hundreds of amateur and professional psychologists that have analysed her life and death through her works. I prefer to take the link between her death and her work out of the equation.

It was on her 13th birthday when her father, a painter, and mother, a potter, gave Francesca her very first camera; it was a Yashica 24. She used this medium format camera until her passing. Woodman attended the Rhode Island School of Design in Providence, Rhode Island. It is said that she was influenced heavily by fashion photography and Surrealism. I really do believe that her imagery is more centered on self-discovery and identity as I have discovered through my research of her work. Her ethereal and ghost-like depictions are intriguing.

Below is Woodman’s first self-portrait taken at the age of 13 and also one of her first with her new camera.

Is she feeling connected, or tethered. Is she saying she has no identity by turning her head away? Or is the connection of the rope an extension of her cable knit sweater, as it appears to unravel? I love all the questions this image elicits.

(Victoria Miro, 2019)

Another favourite image of mine was this one below, again depicting Woodman herself. Sadly, I felt compelled to cover her exposed skin due to Tumblr rules. She had travelled to Italy to study. While she was there she printed several different poses with eels. Her body is nude as she cups her body around the bowl of eels.I find it striking that the colour of her skin is tied with the colour of the eels. This reduces her and the eels to shape and form. It’s absolutely beautiful. The lighting is perfection.

The second Photographer I encountered when turning the next corner was American photographer, Diane Arbus (14 March 1923, New York, New York - 26 July 1971, Artist Housing, New York). I have seen these images before, but it was fantastic to see them again up close and personal. The first image that I have always loved was ‘A Jewish Giant at Home with his Parents in the Bronx, N.Y. 1970′.

It was Allan Arbus who gifted her first camera to her. They worked together, husband and wife, he a photographer and she an art director and stylist. She spent her life focusing her lens on the people who populated the fringe of society, including transgender, circus people and the mentally ill. This interests me greatly, as I too have a strong affinity for people on the ‘outside-looking-in’. My own artwork has depicted the mentally ill and dementia. It has long since been thought that Diane was bipolar, I think this is why her photography interests me, as I am too. It is important to not just take a pretty picture. Her images invoke viewers to build stories in their minds of the people whose essences she has captured. (Searle, 2019)

Diane Arbus

Robert Mapplethorpe

Snapchats

As an artist I wanted to take in the ‘Long Look’ - The making of a Portrait which explores the relationship that blooms between the artist and his sitter.

Stills Gallery - Cindy Sherman

Last, but NEVER least . . . The Great Cindy Sherman . . .

Cindy Sherman’s work has always centered around identity. She has spent her career trying on the ‘clothes’ of other personalities and photographing herself in different settings. Her untitled film stills are world famous.

After attending the exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery, the group I was with, walked to the Stills Gallery after we had lunch. It was about a 10-15 minute walk.

(Adams, 2019)

Cindy Sherman, Murder Mystery, 1976

Mystery Actress Side View

Cindy Sherman, Murder Mystery, 1976

Steinhauer, J. (2019). Finding Francesca Woodman. [online] The Paris Review. Available at: https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2012/05/23/finding-francesca-woodman/ [Accessed 29 Sep. 2019]. (Steinhauer, 2019)

AWARE Women artists / Femmes artistes. (2019). Francesca Woodman — AWARE Women artists / Femmes artistes. [online] Available at: https://awarewomenartists.com/en/artiste/francesca-woodman/ [Accessed 29 Sep. 2019]. (leading image) (AWARE Women artists / Femmes artistes, 2019)

Victoria Miro. (2019). Self Portrait at 13, Antella, Italy, 1972 (E.1). [online] Available at: https://www.victoria-miro.com/artists/7-francesca-woodman/works/artworks13614/ [Accessed 26 Sep. 2019].

Friedewald, B. (2018). Women photographers. 2nd ed. Munich, London, New York: Prestel Publishing Ltd. (Friedewald, 2018, pgs 222-225)

Kieffer, M. (2019). Haunted Genius: The Tragic Life and Death of Francesca Woodman. [online] Culture Trip. Available at: https://theculturetrip.com/north-america/usa/new-york/articles/haunted-genius-the-tragic-life-and-death-of-francesca-woodman/ [Accessed 28 Sep. 2019]. (Kieffer, 2019)

Iris Veysey. (2019). On Mental Illness, Suicide and Misreading Francesca Woodman. [online] Available at: https://irisveysey.com/2014/09/04/on-mental-illness-suicide-and-misreading-francesca-woodman/ [Accessed 28 Sep. 2019]. (Iris Veysey, 2019)

Stills.org. (2019). Cindy Sherman: Early Works, 1975-80 | Stills Gallery. [online] Available at: http://www.stills.org/exhibition/current-exhibition/cindy-sherman-early-works-1975-80 [Accessed 28 Sep. 2019]. (Stills.org, 2019)

Britishphotohistory.ning.com. (2019). Exhibition: Cindy Sherman: Early Works, 1975-80 / Edinburgh, from 28 June 2019. [online] Available at: https://britishphotohistory.ning.com/profiles/blogs/exhibition-cindy-sherman-early-works-1975-80-edinburgh-from-28-ju [Accessed 28 Sep. 2019]. (Britishphotohistory.ning.com, 2019)

Searle, A. (2019). Diane Arbus: In the Beginning review – a genius who made every picture a story. [online] the Guardian. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2019/feb/12/diane-arbus-in-the-beginning-review-a-genius-who-made-every-picture-a-story [Accessed 29 Sep. 2019]. (Searle, 2019)

Adams, T. (2019). Cindy Sherman: ‘Why am I in these photos?’. [online] the Guardian. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2016/jul/03/cindy-sherman-interview-retrospective-motivation [Accessed 19 Oct. 2019]. (Adams, 2019)

The Museum of Modern Art. (2019). Cindy Sherman. Untitled Film Still #58. 1980 | MoMA. [online] Available at: https://www.moma.org/collection/works/57196 [Accessed 29 Sep. 2019]. (The Museum of Modern Art, 2019)

The Museum of Modern Art. (2019). Cindy Sherman | MoMA. [online] Available at: https://www.moma.org/artists/5392?locale=en [Accessed 19 Oct. 2019]. (The Museum of Modern Art, 2019)

Palumbo, J. (2019). Six Women Artists Furthering Cindy Sherman’s Pioneering Vision. [online] Artsy. Available at: https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-six-women-artists-furthering-cindy-shermans-pioneering-vision [Accessed 21 Oct. 2019]. (Palumbo, 2019)

#exhibition

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doomedandstoned · 5 years

Text

Closer To The End (part III)

I contend that human beings are not suited for the world we've fashioned for ourselves. Cases of anxiety and depression are practically ubiquitous, and suicide in all age groups is once again on the rise. Some will suffer mental afflictions that last years -- perhaps even for a lifetime. This is the third and final part of my story.

~By Billy Goate~

Cover art by Ruso Tsig additional art by Karl Briullov

I'm so tired of hearing that I'm wrong Everyone laughs at me, why me? I'm so tired of being pushed around I feel like I've been betrayed

youtube

We take each other's love, forget to give back Isn't it a pity, how we break each other's hearts I know we're only human and not to blame But who the hell are you to cause so much pain Why...

MEDICATION

My parents have been anti-establishment for as long as I can remember. In the climate of the 1980s, the institutions of the day were being called seriously into question. One of them was the authoritarian nature of public education (there's a reason why Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall" resonated so strongly with people). It's no surprise that my family got caught up in the first wave of the homeschooling movement. Other areas of modern life began to be called into question, as well, taking the family down a dark, windy road that led into conspiracy culture, extreme libertarianism, and religious dogmatism.

This distrust of the "experts" put us at odds with the medical establishment, too. "Doctors only know how to do two things," mom would often proclaim loudly in one of her famous rants, "cut you open or prescribe you pills." Natural medicine held the keys to recovery from all ills, be it cancer or the common cold. "All those chemicals aren’t good for your body," she insisted. "God put everything we need for healing in the ground." I’m not here to knock naturopathy (I was an ardent follower of this way of life for years) nor my mother for her convictions, but there are some things that can’t be cured by Saint John's Wort and herbal tea -- major depression being one of them.

At one point, my anxiety, melancholy, and a generalized feeling of social isolation reached such a heightened state I turned to hypnotism, enamored by an obscure radio program hosted by Roy Masters and his Foundation for Human Understanding. I was too young to understand the significance of most of the bullshit he was spewing, but it was the comprehensive approach to life that appealed to me. I wanted answers -- all of them. About the only thing I got out of it, though, was learning how to make my own arm go numb through self-hypnosis.

Later, I'd get caught up in a movement of Biblical counseling that rejected psychiatry altogether. "Christ has given us all things we need for life and godliness," says the holy writ, ergo we need none other than Jesus to cure our mental ills. Furthermore, the thesis said, since "God has not given us a spirit of fear" it must mean that the root of depression and anxiety is ultimately sin against God. The answer? Confess your sins and walk by faith, not by sight. In short, pray the sadness away. All of this had limited effectiveness in coping with the claustrophobic cloud of melancholy that was constantly with me.

Cough & Windhand: Reflection of the Negative by Windhand

The stigma of psychiatry and modern medicine kept me from treating my depression for damn near a decade. Somewhere in my late twenties, after a prolonged and particularly dark depressive spell, I decided to talk to my medical doctor about antidepressants. He started me on the industry standard, the well-known and well-marketed Prozac, which became a household name in the '90s. I took the first dose at bedtime and when I woke up, I was seriously hating the daylight. Feeling extraordinarily fatigued, all I wanted to do was sleep. I called in a rare sick day from work. The next day I was feeling groggy, but well enough to return. Giving it the good ol' college try, I took Prozac for several weeks as directed, but the side-effects just weren't worth it for me. That’s when I was referred to my first psychiatrist.

It was a weird feeling sitting in the waiting room for my appointment. I felt like I’d joined the ranks of the fragile, broken, and confused, perhaps even the insane. It was hard for me to see myself sharing anything in common with the others that shared the tiny lobby. The psychiatrist who greeted me looked like a regular chucklehead -- you know, one of those sidekicks from a sitcom that's not coming to me now. (It just came to me: Glen from the Tom Green Show.) A paunchy man in his 30s with wavy dirty blonde hair parted to the side donning wire-rimmed glasses, the shrink pulled out a notebook and started asking me about my background, while he busily took notes. Turned out, the man was very methodical in his approach. Over the course of the year, we cycled through all kinds of drugs -- Paxil, Effexor, Wellbutrin, Lexapro, Zoloft, and a lot of other names I'm not remembering, before finally settling on Cymbalta.

Certainly, this was something I didn't want to share with my coworkers, much less mom and dad. The first time I told my brother I was taking antidepressants, he was outraged. “You don’t need that stuff in your body. You don’t need pills to feel good.” I don’t know what it is about antidepressant medication that offends people so badly, but some people feel it is their personal mission in life to get you off of them. Why all the evangelical fervor? Are they secretly afraid they are "nuts," too? It’s not like I’m trying to get everyone else to take my medication, but suddenly these people, well-meaning or not, are trying to get you off of your meds.

I’ve seen YouTube videos from a guy claiming that God has cured him of his bipolar disorder and he flushed all his pills down the toilet (bad idea, by the way). Then a month later, he comes back online crying uncontrollably, talking about how he feels like God is testing him and asking viewers to pray to stop Satan’s onslaught. Moral of the story: It's dangerous to let people's religious opinions and untested hunches drive the agenda for our mental health.

I'm very reluctant these days to talk to anyone about my depression, because of all the rush to judgement involved. Ironically, it's this breakdown of community that I believe is at the heart of much of our mental health issues as a society. Look at the comments on any confessional video addressing burnout, depression, or anxiety and you'll find everyone is suddenly an expert who knows so well the precise and perfect solution to your problems. Well-meaning or not, it's incredibly annoying and I'd rather not have trouble with it. Hell, it took me two years to finish this article.

Depressed people are often viewed with the same cynical dismissiveness ascribed to angsty hormonal teens. "It's just a phase, you'll get through it," you're told with the reassuring wave of a hand. Besides, they remind you, "Happiness is a choice!" Because they are feeling chipper today, they have little patience for you dampening their mood. Others call you edgy when you say the pressures of life are so great that you feel like just turning off the lights on all of it. Still others will view you as selfish for leaving the family reunion early (or not wanting to participate in holidays at all). When you spend the whole weekend in bed sleeping, they'll accuse you of being indulgent, not realizing sleep gives you a respite from the hurt, guilt, and regret of painful memories or the misery of an unstable home life. Or the well-meaning "It Gets Better!" It doesn't always get better as life moves on.

Then there are those who try to talk you off your meds, entirely (cue: the ridiculously overwrought Facebook posts). We've all been privy to those conversations that strike a conspiratorial tone about how it was really the pharmaceutical companies that led to Chris Cornell's death. "You should just get off the stuff," they argue -- be it from noble intentions or just pride from clinging to an opinion they've stubbornly invested in.

Then there are those who are convinced that since Jesus (or Buddha, Allah Oprah, Jordan Peterson or juicing) gave them an escape from their depression, certainly it is the universal cure for all that ails you. Understand that I was a committed Christian for decades. I know what it is like to feel spiritually serene and I value many of the things the church gave me as a young adult, namely the fellowship, tolerance, and love. I know the feeling of peace that comes from believing in someone who reigns over the chaos and cares about your every need -- an ultimate being who will make sense of the nonsense one day.

I don't wish to diminish anyone's faith or diminish your personal experiences. The fact is, however, that major depression is as much a physical illness as cancer is. Certainly, there are transitional feelings of unhappiness, emptiness, and despair that come from facing situations that seem out of one's control -- the nightmare roommate, being laid off from a job, losing a loved one. It's also true that in most cases, this sadness can be overcome by a new perspective, trying better strategies, or simply allowing the passage of time to do its healing work. Depression can be impacted by one's beliefs, but there is a kind of depression that exists independently of one's perspective on life.

SUICIDAL TENDENCIES

Apart from this series of articles (which took me a good two years to publish), I've stopped sharing my depression with other people. It's annoying, because most people don't know how to listen and empathize. They want to jump in with a solution that, if implemented by nightfall, just might make a difference by daybreak. It's just more hassle than it's worth. Over time, I've gone from being someone with an intense need to belong, to not caring what people think about me at all. I'll often go out of my way to avoid anything deeper than transactional relationships. Once a social butterfly, you'll find me quite the hermit these days. As a consequence, while I was once open to sharing my feelings of loneliness and despair, I rarely mention them any more on social media and practically never to my IRL friends. I would be the last person to call a suicide hotline, by the way. Judge me if you wish, but I'm just being honest. If you want to know what is going on in the head of a severely depressed person with suicidal ideation, here's a least one brain you can peer into.

There's a general consensus that suicide is a selfish decision, even a cowardly act. This was a casual opinion of my own for years, as well. Not until suicide touches someone in your life -- or when you enter its despondent realm yourself -- does the ridiculousness of that notion becomes apparent. Understand that for a person to commit suicide, they have to overcome the brain's own strong predilection for self-preservation. It's not so easy to take the step of ending your life. Something has gone terribly wrong with the brain's ability to convincingly cry, "STOP!" for that to happen.

In my worst bout of depression, following the demise of long-term relationship, I reached the point where every waking moment was sheer misery. Some call this anhedonia -- the inability to feel pleasure. Normally, when we are feeling blue, we seek out something to stimulate our pleasure receptors. That's why ice cream, chocolate, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups are popular go-tos for the bummed out. For me, it's always been music and movies. On this particular week, though, I had somehow lost the capacity to find any joy whatsoever in the usual pastimes. Anything that attempted to pacify my mood met with my contempt. The only thing I could do to escape the agony of just being alive and conscious was to sleep...and sleep I did. At first 8 hours a night, up from my usual 7. Then it advanced to 9, 10, 11, 12 hours. When dawn came, a wave of misery washed over my mind again.

Once, I woke up feeling so despondent that I knew with absolute clarity that I could end my life. Today, I could actually do it. Immediately upon this realization, I wept bitterly. I've not cried like that before or since. If anything, I've become more stoic about the idea of suicide. Don't get me wrong, my internal sense of self-preservation is still quite strong. The problem is that in moments of severe depression, that instinct is dampened. You'll do just about anything just to get rid of the feeling of misery making it unbearable to be awake.

DOOM AWAKENING

One of the most important developments in treating my depression, besides medication and therapy, was the discovery of doom. There's an old expression that misery loves company. I don't know about you, but when I listen to music it's not generally to cheer me up. No, I want my tunes to have a certain level of commiseration with what I'm feeling and going through at the time. When I discovered (quite by accident) Saint Vitus, I knew I'd found my soul food. I can't fully explain that eureka moment when Dave Chandler belted out that first downtuned note on the guitars on "Born Too Late" or when Wino joined with plaintive lyrics for "I Bleed Black." This resonated with me powerfully. It brought chills. This was medicine for my weary head, a kind of mental morphine to dull the pain. I'd come to the Roseland Theater for Down and left with Saint Vitus.

As a funny aside, my roommate (who accompanied me to the show) and I rehashed the bands of the night, giving our two cents on this or that. One thing he said still makes me smile a little inside. "What did you think of Saint Vitus?" I asked. "I don't think they're the kind of band that will withstand the test of time," he remarked. "Well," I rejoined, "they have been playing now for over 30 years and were the co-headliners on a national tour, so their sound must be resonating with a good number of people." Sure, it wasn't for everyone, but on that night my doom had come.

Every song on 'Born Too Late' (1986) so perfectly captures the malaise of the deeply wounded soul, not just in lyrics but in the whole vibe. There's a thick, smoky haze permeating the record and it reminds me a lot of what it feels like after you've poured out your heart until you've got no more tears left to cry. Come on, don't pretend you're so macho that normal human emotions elude you. It's hard to put doom into words, but I'll try: on the one hand you feel emotionally exhausted because you've emptied out all those pent up feelings of loss, fear, regret, and frustration, on the other hand there's a feeling of "reset" and it often makes things much clearer to sort through. For me, when I've exhausted all my emotional resources, I'm left with a feeling of blithe acceptance. A sense of being dealt a set of cards by the impartial hand of fate. That's the kind of vibe that Saint Vitus captures perfectly for me on this record.

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I spent entire weekends on those long, wonderful rabbit trails of discovery. "Dying Inside" led me to Trouble's "The Tempter" with its oh-so-tragic central riff. Lyrically, the songs I was running across could not have been more apropos.

Pentagram, The Skull, and Candlemass were not lingering far behind. Then came the more recent monoliths of doom: Electric Wizard, Windhand, High on Fire, Burning Witch, Khanate, Pilgrim, Serpentine Path, Usnea, Demon Lung, Ancient VVisdom, Dopelord, and the NOLA sludge scene, along with lesser known but equally as powerful acts like Undersmile, Shepherd's Crook, Reptile Master, Purple Hill Witch, Witchthroat Serpent, March Funèbre, Beldam, Hooded Priest, Regress, and 71TONMAN (listen to the Spotify playlist).

Doom metal spoke to me with a sharp realism that I connected with immediately. When you have no strength left to get angry at the world, you switch your listening habits from Car Bomb to Cough. You can say, I suppose, that doom was my salvation. It kept me hanging on a little while longer. The salve of those slow, low riffs gave me a strange feeling of consolation. "We know life sucks, too. Welcome to reality." It's like being awakened to the Matrix, but feeling there's not a damned thing you can do to change any of it. Your fate is sealed. It's an honesty that is both refreshing and freeing, I suppose, though one does wish to reclaim the notion of hope.

Believe it or not, even after writing all of this, optimism is my default mode. When I'm feeling well, and even when my depression is at low levels, the needle always leans towards inspiration, creativity, even a mischievous sense of humor and an aw, shucks smile that people tend to notice. I don't want to be depressed. The problem is that severe depression can make you feel, illusion or not, like you're paralyzed from doing anything about it.

As I've experienced more and more cuts and scrapes of life, I've become increasingly numb to it all, like the massive build-up of scar tissue. Things that upset me easily in the past might still hurt, but I've come to expect them, so they have the impact of a dull table knife. Perhaps I'm becoming a nihilist, despite my optimistic tendencies. It's hard not to be. Don't worry about me, though. If anything, I want to stick around to see what's going to happen next. It's the inborn curiosity we all have inside of us -- the same thing that I imagine kept Stephen Hawking going for decades after being wrecked by a disease that cruelly mangled his body into its famously misshapen form, stealing away his most basic expressive freedoms -- save for the power of his eyes and the thoughts behind them.

I've also made a deliberate attempt to pursue treatment (both psychiatric and psychological care) for my depression, which I urge you to do if you are likewise laboring under its crushing weight. The perspective of time, coupled with a remedy for mind and body can have a significant impact on your perspective, if not your life circumstances.

THE WINDY ROAD AHEAD

Learn from your mistakes, don't dwell on them. Repeated affirmations like this one may seem trite, but they are ultimately true. You can be free from the chains of guilt and move forward, as one performer puts it, "from strength to strength."

Don't kill yourself (literally or metaphorically) for someone else or for someone else's decisions. It may bum you out that a roomie decided to take your money and run or that you were rebuffed by a long-time crush or made jobless through corporate-wide cuts. You don't own that, they do.

Walks

Get off the couch, move that bod. Something as simple as a walk down the block or a drive out of town can do wonders for your perspective. As a homeschool teen living under the strict rule of a radical fundamentalist household in rural East Texas, my one salvation were those long walks in the open field -- especially when my parents started having loud, intense fights related to my mom's own mental health. I sorted through so many of life's problems (most of which seemed much larger then than they do now) through those solitary, hour-long strolls.

I really miss that where I live now, in a more congested neighborhood, so I have to find other ways of getting away from it all (getting up and out a half-hour before the other walkers, for instance, helps). Even if I don't want to rustle myself awake and move around to do as simple a task as taking out the trash, sometimes the feeling...let me revise that...quite often the feeling follows after the decision has been made and the body is in motion.

Projects

Another piece of advice I have for coping with depression is to channel your frustrations in projects. When I'm depressed, I throw myself into my work. Hell, Doomed & Stoned started because I needed a project to pour myself into. My counselor asked me once, "If you woke up tomorrow without depression, what would be different about your world?"

She encouraged me to start with the things that were in my immediate vicinity. "Well, there wouldn't be mail strewn all over the floor. My dirty clothes would be in the hamper, my clean clothes folded and put away. I'd take the time to cook myself a meal, instead of running out the door eating a quick bite out of some package."

Good, let's make a list and start there. Do at least one of the things on your list between now and the time we meet again next week.

Talks

Despite my isolationist ways, I begrudgingly admit that talking often helps, too. Though I'm an introvert and am horrified at the idea of sharing my feelings with others, I've reached points in my depression where I was compelled to tell others about it. It's as natural to do that as to cry out when your body is experiencing jolting pain. I'm one of those verbal processors that tends to sort through my problems by talking to someone else. Often, pride or shame or lack of trust gets in the way of sharing with our family and friends, so at the very least the much talked about Suicide Prevention Hotline could actually help you gain perspective on your situation.

Journals

If you don't talk, at least journal. Again, I'm not a journaler and this is the first time in almost three decades that I've written about anything related to my depression. Role play with me. You're a scientist studying the human psyche. How would you describe those feelings you call depression? When I was first asked to describe it to a counselor, I found myself at a loss for words. She helped me with prompts:

Can you tell me what it feels like?

"I walk around feeling like a dark, thick raincloud is hovering all around me all the time."

Do you feel it in a part of your body?

"Well, yeah, I guess. The head. And the chest. It feels like there's pressure building from all around me, like my head is going to explode. My heart feels like it's going to leap out of my chest."

What's happening around you when these feelings arise?

I'd then go on to detail some recent happenings. She'd press me further to describe the kinds of thoughts racing through my head in these situations. All of this was really helpful in getting me to define this nebulous, gray malaise that was following me everywhere I went.

I don't keep a journal, per se. Something about it feels needlessly egotistical, a vain attempt to reinforce the illusion in our YouTube fame crazy world that my life is worth discovering and remembering at some point in the distant future. And yet, writing down one's thoughts can be another effective way of untangling that anxious ball of feelings that keeps me from thinking rationally about the depression I'm feeling.

Today is my birthday, but I couldn't care less. It's not about getting old. I stopped caring about that 10 years ago. It's something about celebration, specifically when the attention is on me. I can't adequately describe how contemptuous I find it. My last birthday was spent alone in an empty house and a bottle of Scotch, catching up with past seasons of Game of Thrones. I was so glad it was over and the happy birthday wishes stopped. There's nothing special about this day for me.

At some point, my family stopped celebrating birthdays and holidays. I'm not sure when it happened or why. Certainly not for religious reasons, more probably for financial ones. I grew up in a family that barely scraped by, so birthdays seemed a luxury we couldn't afford. Now, it just feels indulgent. More than that, it feels sad. It reminds me of all the disappointments, hurts, and failures of the past year. It's not as though it's all bad, of course. If nothing else my birthday gives the illusion that a chapter has turned, with new possibilities for the future. I also have to come to terms with how many people out there actually seem to care about me, maybe even love me.

And later that day, I forced myself to go to a show I was quite enthused about, but didn't factor in depression being the party pooper.

I can't account for what it is that comes over me. There are people here that genuinely like me, who probably even want to get to know me better, but I push them away. Not so much directly, but indirectly, by excusing myself to use the restroom and then changing my mind midway and just leaving the venue -- without even the courtesy of a "goodbye" to friends or a "great show" to the bands. I feel awful about it afterwards, but in that moment it's like a flood of emotional pain washes over me and it feels like I'm carrying an anchor chained around my neck. I feel the great urge to find my way to unlit corners. To look busy and preoccupied. Would it hurt me to say hello? To smile? Perhaps not, but right now my psyche is tingling like some kind of Spidey Sense telling me, "Get out of here! Just get your shit and leave...NOW."

As dour and hopeless as that may feel, just the act of writing it down afforded me a release, which incidentally I did not feel until the writing was all said and done.

Hope, a new beginning Time, time to start living Just like just before we died

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Hurt, falling through fingers Trust, trust in the feeling There's something left inside There's no going back to the place we started from.

ONE MORE THING

For those of you who are wondering what you can do for a friend, family member, coworker or just someone you know casually from shows you both frequent, I couldn't say it better than one of my longtime fellow travelers in doom, who offered up this advice:

"While it's all very well and fucking dandy that there are so many people telling those who are struggling to reach out to them, I don't think people are quite understanding just how mental illness works sometimes. People quite often don't reach out, because those that are suffering from mental illness, at times, feel like they are a burden by unloading their shit onto someone else, despite the invitation to do so. It's generally the same concept that leads on to suicide.

I obviously can't speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself when I say the last thing I want to do is reach out to anyone because I feel like I am a burden and everyone would be better off without me -- and that is ultimately why I don't reach out. The point that I'm trying to get at is if you see someone struggling YOU reach the fuck out. If you don't see someone who used to be around, YOU reach the fuck out. Think about it. It's not that hard."

Well said and completely on the mark. At the same time, if you're feeling alone and uncared for, you may look at people’s lack of inquiry as more confirmation that you are worthless trash. You may interpret a busy person's slight as utter rejection. Don't worry about what others may or may not think of you. You need to take care of you, for you. The future is fickle. Your fortunes can change on a dime, so why base your self-worth and your decision about whether to live or die by how you feel right now? Ride it out, seek out help, get a game plan in play.

I say this as someone who knows how hard it can be to get mental health. I was double insured -- through my employer and the Veterans Administration -- and I couldn't get a god damned psychiatric appointment to reevaluate and adjust my meds. I called all over town trying to get in with someone. "Sorry, we're not accepting new patients" was the universal refrain. The VA would just be too many month's wait, I told myself, based upon how long it has taken me in the past to get a conventional medical appointment. In desperation, I called up my primary care doctor who asked if I was suicidal. For the first time in my life, I knew with full certainty the answer was yes. The more miserable I felt, the more I contemplated dying. If I did it, it would be something quick and sudden, I would daydream in my most despondent moment. "You need to check yourself into the hospital now," she told me adamantly. I did exactly that. I walked into the ER and told them I was suicidal. They led me to a room, had me take off all my clothes, and put on a hospital gown. I stayed in a padded room waiting for a social worker to see me. It was a desperate move, but it did pay off in getting me fast-tracked to see a psychiatrist.

One thing I learned about medication from my new psychiatrist (because he was very caring, very careful, and hence very effective at his job) is that everyone’s brain chemistry is uniquely different. There can be other issues impacting mood, too, such as thyroid, environmental stressors, sleep problems, vitamin deficiencies, and so on. Again, it’s often hard to see whether the cart is leading the horse or the horse is leading the cart, in terms of the mind-body connection. Long story short, this doctor adjusted my meds to near perfection to get me through the rare summer-long depression I was experiencing.

Just a few months later, he got hired away to work for the County and I was left back in the same boat once again. I got a great referral, but didn't realize until bills came in I couldn't pay that the doctor was out of my insurance network. Believe me, many people prefer to go without care entirely than to go into debt and I was one of them (truthfully, I still am). I went another year until I couldn't take it anymore and this time in my desperation reached back out to the VA. Surprisingly, they saw me within a week and prioritized my suicidal depression. I'm now in a good spot as a result, but it was a long, windy, uncertain road getting here. I know it's hard to find help. Sometimes you don't know what's available to you until you knock a little louder and get people's attention.

The older I get, it seems the more stubborn I am, particularly when it comes to reaching out and asking for help. Perhaps I've always been that way and am only now realizing it's become a liability. After taking off three weeks during the holidays to catch up with the many projects that were piling up around me, I realized that my depression was sometimes stronger than my will to power through and do my best work. I would find myself sitting at the computer for hours trying to get started with a story, trying to edit audio for a podcast, trying to prepare a team member's submission for publication, and every time I would find myself coming up against something painful, perhaps similar to the long recognized creative crimp known as writer's block. I describe it as an inhibitor chip in my brain that sends pain signals to my psyche whenever I contemplate moving forward.

Of course, rationally, I know it's all just a matter of the will, right? That's what those who aren't experiencing depression will tell you, at least. They don't want to go to the gym, but they make the choice to do it anyway, so why can't you just "man up" and do what needs to be done? Well, those aren't so much the messages other people give me, as they are my own conscience. The guilt itself from a day coming and going without results adds its own layer of complication to my mood. Thankfully, I have a wonderful counselor who understands and is helping me to tackle this with cognitive strategies. This, coupled with sensible medical treatment, has at least helped me to find "even flow" again.

Finally, you're going to have some bad days where you may even want to be productive, but your body feels like it's in revolt. As a creative person who loves to pour myself into as many projects as I can when I'm feeling good, it can be extraordinarily frustrating to not even feel the will to check email, open a letter, or listen to a stitch of music. Most days, I'm trying to work in concert with my body's natural rhythms. I'm more of a morning person and get my best work done between 8AM and 11AM. Anything after that is going to be hit or miss with diminishing returns. With that in mind, I have to hold back from starting new projects before the ones already on my plate are finished, because when I'm feeling good, I think I can take on the world.

This is all a part of me rediscovering what it's like to feel balanced, bright, and in love with life. It can be frustrating to have that feeling back, only to watch it wither away as the week progresses. Since I have very high expectations of myself, it's natural for me to heap guilt upon guilt for all the missed opportunities, but beating myself up only compounds the problem (it took me a long time to really get this about myself, too). Every day is a struggle, but I've decided I'm staying in the fight for the long haul.

In short: Be patient with yourself. Be fair with yourself. Be good to yourself. Remember, this too shall pass.

"Someday you're going to die, just like some day I'm going to die. But until then, you fight like hell to stay alive, you get that?!"

-- William Holden, The Earthling (1980)

#Closer To The End #Depression #Suicide #Doom #Metal #Saint Vitus #Trouble #Alice in Chains #Windhand #Doomed & Stoned

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thefeministherald · 6 years

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Your Ultimate Women-Write-The-Best-of-Everything 2019 Reading List

The Voyeurs (Graphic Novel)

"The Voyeurs is the work of a mature writer, if not one of the most sincere voices of her literary generation. It's a fun, honest read that spans continents, relationships and life decisions. I loved it."—Chris Ware, Acme Novelty Library

"As she watches other people living life, and watches herself watching them, Bell's pen becomes a kind of laser, first illuminating the surface distractions of the world, then scorching them away to reveal a deeper reality that is almost too painful and too beautiful to bear."— Alison Bechdel, Fun Home

"A master of the exquisite detail, Bell provides a welcome peephole into our lives."—Françoise Mouly, The New Yorker

The Voyeurs, was named one of the best books of the year by Publishers Weekly, Kirkus Reviews, and the Atlantic.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity

In this brilliant, breathtaking book by Pulitzer Prize winner Katherine Boo, a bewildering age of global change and inequality is made human through the dramatic story of families striving toward a better life in Annawadi, a makeshift settlement in the shadow of luxury hotels near the Mumbai airport. As India starts to prosper, the residents of Annawadi are electric with hope. Abdul, an enterprising teenager, sees “a fortune beyond counting” in the recyclable garbage that richer people throw away. Meanwhile Asha, a woman of formidable ambition, has identified a shadier route to the middle class. With a little luck, her beautiful daughter, Annawadi’s “most-everything girl,” might become its first female college graduate.

Marbles: Mania, Depression, Michelangelo, and Me: A Graphic Memoir

Cartoonist Ellen Forney explores the relationship between “crazy” and “creative” in this graphic memoir of her bipolar disorder, woven with stories of famous bipolar artists and writers.

Shortly before her thirtieth birthday, Forney was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Flagrantly manic and terrified that medications would cause her to lose creativity, she began a years-long struggle to find mental stability while retaining her passions and creativity.

Searching to make sense of the popular concept of the crazy artist, she finds inspiration from the lives and work of other artists and writers who suffered from mood disorders, including Vincent van Gogh, Georgia O’Keeffe, William Styron, and Sylvia Plath. She also researches the clinical aspects of bipolar disorder, including the strengths and limitations of various treatments and medications, and what studies tell us about the conundrum of attempting to “cure” an otherwise brilliant mind.

Darkly funny and intensely personal, Forney’s memoir provides a visceral glimpse into the effects of a mood disorder on an artist’s work, as she shares her own story through bold black-and-white images and evocative prose.

The Woman in Cabin 10

From New York Times bestselling author of the “twisty-mystery” (Vulture) novel In a Dark, Dark Wood, comes The Woman in Cabin 10, an equally suspenseful and haunting novel from Ruth Ware—this time, set at sea. In this tightly wound, enthralling story reminiscent of Agatha Christie’s works, Lo Blacklock, a journalist who writes for a travel magazine, has just been given the assignment of a lifetime: a week on a luxury cruise with only a handful of cabins. The sky is clear, the waters calm, and the veneered, select guests jovial as the exclusive cruise ship, the Aurora, begins her voyage in the picturesque North Sea. At first, Lo’s stay is nothing but pleasant: the cabins are plush, the dinner parties are sparkling, and the guests are elegant. But as the week wears on, frigid winds whip the deck, gray skies fall, and Lo witnesses what she can only describe as a dark and terrifying nightmare: a woman being thrown overboard. The problem? All passengers remain accounted for—and so, the ship sails on as if nothing has happened, despite Lo’s desperate attempts to convey that something (or someone) has gone terribly, terribly wrong…

1222

Nominated for the Edgar Award for Best Novel, from Norway’s #1 bestselling female crime writer—a “beguiling” (The Washington Post) “good old-fashioned murder mystery” (The New York Times Book Review) set in an isolated hotel where guests stranded during a monumental snowstorm begin turning up dead. A train on its way to the northern reaches of Norway derails during a massive blizzard, 1,222 meters above sea level. The passengers head for a nearby hotel, centuries old and practically empty. With plenty of food and shelter from the storm, the evacuees think they are safe, until one of them turns up dead. With no sign of rescue and the storm raging, retired police inspector Hanne Wilhelmsen is asked to investigate. Paralyzed by a bullet lodged in her spine, Hanne has no desire to get involved. But when another body turns up, panic takes over. Complicating things is the presence of a mysterious guest, a passenger who traveled in a private rail car and now stays secluded on the top floor of the hotel. No one knows who the guest is, or why armed guards are needed. Hanne has her suspicions. Trapped in her wheelchair, trapped by the storm, and now trapped with a killer, Hanne knows she must act before the killer strikes again.

Robot Dreams

A Kirkus Reviews Best Book of the Year A PW Best Book of the Year An ALSC Notable Children’s Book A YALSA Great Graphic Novel

This moving, charming graphic novel about a dog and a robot shows us in poignant detail how powerful and fragile relationships are.

Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza

Rooted in Gloria Anzaldúa's experience as a Chicana, a lesbian, an activist, and a writer, the essays and poems in this volume profoundly challenged, and continue to challenge, how we think about identity. Borderlands / La Frontera remaps our understanding of what a "border" is, presenting it not as a simple divide between here and there, us and them, but as a psychic, social, and cultural terrain that we inhabit, and that inhabits all of us.

Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened

Every time Allie Brosh posts something new on her hugely popular blog Hyperbole and a Half the internet rejoices. This full-color, beautifully illustrated edition features more than fifty percent new content, with ten never-before-seen essays and one wholly revised and expanded piece as well as classics from the website like, “The God of Cake,” “Dogs Don’t Understand Basic Concepts Like Moving,” and her astonishing, “Adventures in Depression,” and “Depression Part Two,” which have been hailed as some of the most insightful meditations on the disease ever written.

Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat: Mastering the Elements of Good Cooking

Now a Netflix series! New York Times Bestseller and Winner of the 2018 James Beard Award for Best General Cookbook and multiple ICAP Cookbook Awards Named one of the Best Books of 2017 by: NPR, BuzzFeed, The Atlantic, The Washington Post, Chicago Tribune, Rachel Ray Every Day, San Francisco Chronicle, Vice Munchies, Elle.com, Glamour, Eater, Newsday, Minneapolis Star Tribune, The Seattle Times, Tampa Bay Times, Tasting Table, Modern Farmer, Publishers Weekly, and more. A visionary new master class in cooking that distills decades of professional experience into just four simple elements, from the woman declared “America’s next great cooking teacher” by Alice Waters.

Monstress Volume 1: Awakening

Set in an alternate matriarchal 1900's Asia, in a richly imagined world of art deco-inflected steam punk, MONSTRESS tells the story of a teenage girl who is struggling to survive the trauma of war, and who shares a mysterious psychic link with a monster of tremendous power, a connection that will transform them both and make them the target of both human and otherworldly powers. About the Creators: New York Times bestselling and award-winning writer Marjorie Liu is best known for her fiction and comic books. She teaches comic book writing at MIT, and leads a class on Popular Fiction at the Voices of Our Nation (VONA) workshop.

Persepolis

Marjane Satrapi's best-selling, internationally acclaimed graphic memoir. Persepolis is the story of Satrapi's unforgettable childhood and coming of age within a large and loving family in Tehran during the Islamic Revolution; of the contradictions between private life and public life in a country plagued by political upheaval.

Nobody Nowhere: The Remarkable Autobiography of an Autistic Girl

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The Ice Princess

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A small town can hide many secrets

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The Vampire Chronicles: Interview with a Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and The Queen of the Damned

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Adulthood is a Myth: A Sarah's Scribbles Collection

Do you love networking to advance your career? Is adulthood an exciting new challenge for which you feel fully prepared? Ugh. Please go away. 2016 GOODREADS CHOICE AWARD WINNER FOR GRAPHIC NOVELS AND COMICS! These casually drawn, perfectly on-point comics by the hugely popular young Brooklyn-based artist Sarah Andersen are for the rest of us. They document the wasting of entire beautiful weekends on the internet, the unbearable agony of holding hands on the street with a gorgeous guy, and dreaming all day of getting home and back into pajamas. In other words, the horrors and awkwardnesses of young modern life. Oh and they are totally not autobiographical. At all.

Nimona

Indies Choice Book of the Year * National Book Award Finalist * New York Times Bestseller * New York Times Notable Book * Kirkus Best Book * School Library Journal Best Book * Publishers Weekly Best Book * NPR Best Book * New York Public Library Best Book * Chicago Public Library Best Book

The New York Times bestselling graphic novel sensation from Noelle Stevenson, based on her beloved and critically acclaimed web comic. Kirkus says, “If you’re going to read one graphic novel this year, make it this one.”

Nemeses! Dragons! Science! Symbolism! All these and more await in this brilliantly subversive, sharply irreverent epic from Noelle Stevenson. Featuring an exclusive epilogue not seen in the web comic, along with bonus conceptual sketches and revised pages throughout, this gorgeous full-color graphic novel has been hailed by critics and fans alike as the arrival of a “superstar” talent (NPR.org).

Cultural Anthropology Barbara Miller

Cultural Anthropology presents a balanced introduction to the world’s cultures, focusing on how they interact and change. Author Barbara Miller provides many points where readers can interact with the material, and encourages students to think critically about other cultures as well as their own. Featuring the latest research and statistics throughout, the eighth edition has been updated with contemporary examples of anthropology in action, addressing recent newsworthy events such as the Ebola epidemic.

Captain Marvel Volume 1: Higher, Further, Faster, More

Kelly Sue Deconnick

Hero! Pilot! Avenger! Captain Marvel, Earth's Mightiest Hero with an attitude to match, is back and launching headfirst into an all-new ongoing adventure! As Captain Marvel, a.k.a. Carol Danvers, comes to a crossroads with a new life and new romance, she makes a dramatic decision that will alter the course of her life - and the entire Marvel Universe - in the months to come. But as Carol takes on a mission to return an alien girl to her homeworld, she lands in the middle of an uprising against the Galactic Alliance! Investigating the forced resettlement of Rocket Girl's people, Carol discovers that she has a history with the man behind the plot. But when the bad guy tries to blackmail Carol and turn the Avengers against her, it's payback time! Guest-starring the Guardians of the Galaxy!

#reading list #literature #women in literature #feminism #feminist

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ONISION'S ACCUSATIONS DEBUNKED + RECEIPTS

Hello everyone, and before you make a comment on the sound, consider not doing that and reading the description box first and I am aware that my videos are low quality. Please understand that this is what I do in my spare time, it's not my job and I don't have the kind of time Greg has to dedicate to my channels, I actually take care of my family. Thank you and remember to reach out on my social medias down below if you wish, just give me a little request! Let's begin (and if you already know everyone involved please just skip to the time stamp where I debunk Greg's accusations against Madison and Ayalla: 10:30

Greg has struck again. I have a few videos on the back burner because this dude just wants to dig himself a hole so deep, he's about to go straight through the earth's crust and hit the mantle. The video we are debunking today is Greg's attempt to smear those who are coming forward with accusations about how absolutely trash he is.

Before we dissect and debunk his video I think we should take a look at the history of each party involved. For the sake of continuity, I'll be referring to Kai (formerly known as Lainey and Taylor, and I think even Eli at one point) as Lainey and I will be using they/their pronouns. I also want to address comments I made about Lainey changing their mind on... everything, because they do. That's no excuse for me to question their gender and I deeply apologize for that. There's no excuse for that and I won't attempt to make one.

We'll start with the largest figure in all of this. Onision, also known as Greg and more recently "character" but because nothing out of his mouth is blatantly fact, nor opinion, nor joke, we'll refer to him by his biological given name, Greg. Remember how I said in my last Greg video regarding the allegations that he is both technical and metaphorical when it suits his narrative. Keep that in mind throughout this video. It's very important.

To keep things as brief as possible while also hitting the main points, Greg has always been problematic on youtube. These days he chalks it up to being a jokester and everyone else just not getting it. Sure, Greg. He has a history with younger girls and publicizing his relationships, and exploiting his "personal experiences" and those involved, whilst getting upset if the other party does the same, these are facts. Forums like lolcow and kiwifarms and Greg himself have documented this. Greg has also exploited his own drama, claiming to want to squash things to garner sympathy from his audiences and the skeptics among us. He has ALLEGEDLY rated inappropriate photos of underage girls on his forum... I'll be using that word, allegedly quite a bit in this video. He has allegedly coerced women into having sex with him. He has allegedly harassed women via text, phone call, twitter, video - women whom are either easy targets, like Eugenia Cooney who I've voiced my opinion on, Jaclyn Glenn whom is staying neutral and/or not voicing her opinion on the current situation (as of right now), Shiloh who was "too much to handle" but also was so underage at the time that he ALLEGEDLY drove her across the country so that he could legally consummate their relationship. Speaking of which, according to this 2017 twitter interaction, Greg seemingly replies to Billie saying "I'm not a liar or a criminal. I'd take 1 person like me over 100 like you any day. You got dumped, again, you can leave now." To which Ayalla, another big part of this, replies, "this coming from the man who told Billie to shave her head and get a tattoo that says, "I'm a liar" to prove herself". Thanks to tumblr I found the following screenshots. Shiloh said on her blogspot that shaving off the rest of her hair caused her to become depressed and that her femaleness had been stripped from her completely. In the next screenshot (which looks like a wiki article) it reads: "On June 30th, 2011, Shiloh uploaded a video titled "BALD!!!" to one of her channels to announce her newly full shaved head. Throughout the rest of their relationship she dyed her short hair different colors and wore wigs. This did not cause controversy until later when Shiloh revealed more of her side of the relationship on her tumblr. She claims that Greg forced her to shave her head and told her, "I want you to shave your head cause you're a good bitch." She says he took her into the bathroom and shaved her head. She says she felt ugly and de-feminized because of it. Could it be a coincidence? Sure, suuure. There are a plethora of details I could go into to make this an hour long video to absolute kill my computer, but rather than doing that, just comment with anything you'd like me to cover and I'll do my best to do that. Until then, explore the rabbit hole that the internet has to offer about this.

Next, let's explore Lainey. Lainey has been at the center of quite a few controversies mostly due to their proximity to Greg. Lainey is 24 years old and claims that Greg and them started dating February 7th 2012, however the article on their wikia page, states that they were married in November 2011, so that's a little conflicting. That would mean they married Greg when they were around 16 years old and Greg was 25. When they met, Lainey had a striking resemblance to Shane Dawson, a particular obsession of Greg's, however that could be attributed to Lainey's scene/emo phase... and not any pressure from Greg to look like a guy he kissed and has since made numerous accusations about. Lainey specificly said in a livestream with Sarah that they were Sarah's guardian, which makes this entire situation a little messed up. I can speculate the Lainey Sarah relationship, but I'll save that for another time. The last thing I'll mention is that Lainey has made numerous tweets using slurs that I won't repeat.

There's an interesting timeline on reddit regarding Greg and Lainey, which I'll leave in the description if you want to dive a little deeper into those two. And though Lainey is an adult therefore fully accountable, I have a little more sympathy for them, despite their seemingly blind loyalty towards Greg. Lainey is complicit in everything that has happened in the house of horrors. At 24 years old, that needs to change or you need to be ok with the drama channels calling you out.

Next in this is Sarah, who was a long-time fan of Lainey. I need to correct myself in saying that Sarah was actually 14 when she and Lainey interacted, but was 16 years old upon meeting in person, which strikes me as odd, especially given that Greg has used the age of consent technicality before and how 16 years old is the age of consent in Washington. It's a little odd to me. Sarah was allegedly having... home trouble when she joined the household. There's been a lot of vague alluding to... well... abuse, it seems. Despite the fact that Sarah might be mature for her age, she still was only 14 years old when they interacted vs Lainey's 20 years old, a 6 year age gap. There's been a bit of drama with her online, like confusion about her mental disorder (borderline, not bipolar - apparently those two still get confused). Sarah used to confide in Lane, and frequently ask her to delete texts. During a livestream with Sarah and Lainey, when the first grooming accusations came out a couple years ago, Lane watched the broadcast and both Sarah and Lainey allegedly "freaked out" on Lane. For the record, Lane had no direct contact with Greg and Lainey, and there was nothing beyond brief twitter interactions between Lane and Lainey.

Next we have Madison who was strictly friends with Greg and Lainey, and states to have only ever had platonic feelings for the both of them. But given that Greg has accused her of inappropriate conversation and over-staying her welcome at Greg's house of horrors, and Greg's history with rejection... the following information is not so surprising, but keep in mind we're seeing things from a very limited scope. Madison and Greg were friends for just a few years shy of a decade when she found out she was blocked, to her it was out of nowhere. But there could have been discussions between Greg and Lainey about how one or the other felt uncomfortable, and since Greg is a manipulator, he may have even told Lainey half-truths about Madison, and their interactions. The only reasonable explanation for being blocked was that she had made a video explaining to her audience that Greg's DDlg video was done preemptively on his part with cruel intentions behind it, and/or misleading her to make the uncomfortable video. She clearly states, and I've never seen him actually deny it, that Greg brought up the idea of doing his usual diaper bs, and she could actually explain and give context behind the kink (although if kink isn't the correct term in this case, please let me know in the comments). There's also been some controversy with her making a statement against Greg, retracting the statement and apologizing for it, and lashing out at RSN for inciting drama.

The last player in this situation is Ayalla, easily the most consistent and honest out of everyone here. Ayalla is a musician here on youtube who was introduced to Lainey and Greg through Billie and Social Repose - the former is her best friend and the latter being her now ex. Her previous experiences with Greg and Lainey have not been positive - having resorted to posting a cease and desist against Greg when he wouldn't stop posting about her, which makes one of his recent videos all the more... ugh gross.

With all that said, we're going to thoroughly debunk this video made alleging that Ayalla and Madison are creeps. Bear in mind, he is attempting to discredit them after these allegations came out to sway his audience and any skeptics watching that they are not credible sources.

It starts off saying "the truth will set you free", which probably should say "the truth will send greg to jail or at the very least to the authorities possibly resulting in having to register as a sex offender, so why not make a video making allegations against those brave enough to speak out against greg and lainey's inappropriate and immoral behaviour (if not blatantly illegal... allegedly)"

The next slide is a screengrab of Madison with the caption "Onision ended his friendship with this girl for repeatedly trying to be in a relationship with him and his spouse despite him having no interest in her, cheating on her boyfriend with his boss at Fred Meyer and going behind Onision's back to trash talk him all while pretending to be his friend". I haven't seen the deleted tweets that Madison made with regards to her and Greg's friendship ending and I can't find them (though if you have access of them, feel free to leave a comment of the link below or DM me on instagram or twitter, all links are in my bio). Madison has gone on stream herself to debunk this, and Lainey has also made statements about this situation. The statement that has absolutely zero proof is that Madison tried to be in a relationship with either of them, and she has vehemently denied those claims. Greg mentions that his zero interest has to do with the cheating and gives details, but Madison herself has stated that her now fiance is her daughter's father. Bringing up specific details like that, repeatedly, is a diversion tactic so that his viewer will hopefully not think twice to ask for the evidence. Whether or not she cheated on anyone is irrelevant in this video.

Next, it reads: "Not long after Onision cut ties with her she decided to connect with a girl who cheated on Onision and gather dirt from the very same girl Onision dumped for cheating on him." The amount of exes Greg claims to have, also who he claims cheated on him, is such a large number that Madison could walk down the street and bump into anyone who he says he dated. She's allowed to befriend others, especially given that she was hurt by the random ending of said friendship. And if Madison had made them feel uncomfortable, either of them could have voiced that instead of coming up with this elaborate story of all the terrible things she did while never taking responsibility for their own actions. Greg is incapable of doing that, but Lainey gives half-hearted, almost disingenous apologies for any of their wrong-doing.

Next the slide reads, "Onision and his ex started dating legally, consentually, however this girl lied to everyone and told everyone that Onision had dated her when she was younger than the age she was. And here are the receipts." Notice how Greg is not naming this person at all. The receipts he shows, are between him and Madison and this seems to be about the clip of her and BillytheFridge about Greg's alleged interactions with underage girls. Greg is blue, Madison is white. I'll do my best Greg voice for you all.

It's dated Saturday December 29, 2018, just last month. Greg says "Unfortunately we're going to have to sue you for slander. Best of luck to you." Madison replies, "Okay. I will press charges for this then." And Greg replies, "For?" The next message is a screenshot or document that says Washington Wiretapping Laws, and I'll provide the larger image which states that Washington is a two-party consent state. In his next message he says, "Like I said, there is no recording of your voice without consent." He sends a separate message a minute later saying, "We are going to have to sue you however, as there is a recording of you publicly slandering me." She never outright slandered him, she questioned his motives and stated some simple facts.

Madison responds, "You stated out loud, verbally to me that you were presently recording me. If you deleted it then great. But you verbally stated to me on the phone call you were recording me." Directly after, and her message was cut off in the screenshot, she says, "Be my guest. I don't have a fn dime. So you won't get anything out of it but paying for your own legal fees. And what I said wasn't untrue." Greg replied, "You were informed on the phone that you were wrong about Shiloh's age. You need to publicly state that." He never actually denies verbally telling her he was recording her, he just says that there isn't a recording. As for Shiloh's age... when they started recording videos together, Greg was 24-25 and Shiloh was 17, there's been speculation that Greg was talking to Shiloh while he was still married to Skye. There's a lot of conflicting information regarding when Lainey and Greg got together. I remember reading somewhere that Lainey was 15 when they first started talking, there are texts between the two that state they were 16 when Greg asked them about being his soulmate. In 2012 they were already married.

Moving on, he says, "You also implied I was a pedophile, you need to retract that statement as well. Otherwise we have to sue. It is our only option." I do find it interesting that just a couple days after the stream where she had made the comments, and RSN made the video with all of the clips, Greg texts her. I can definitely see where it looks like Madison has inside information on Greg. The general consensus is that she's afraid of Greg and that's why she retracted her statement, flippantly saying it was a poor choice of words, however I believe if she does have information about him and underage girls, she should join the other brave people who have come forward and say something. With the recent wetland situation, which fines are up to 10s of thousands of dollars, and given that Greg complains about his finances, and he even stated that he was using the money from his bogus gofundme for a forum (rather than paying himself, if he's so financially stable), it's safe to assume that Greg does not have the money to pay a lawyer and court fees in order to sue anyone. Don't be afraid to tell the truth. Stand by your convictions.

Madison replies to his message saying "I'll speak to Shiloh and I'll say what ends up being the truth. If I was wrong I will happily state that. I already publicly retracted the statement regarding you being a pedophile. Multiple times. But have you retracted yours regarding Shane? No. Have you retracted your comments regarding me being a sexual predator toward you or your family? No. You have not."

Greg responds "Please watch the documentary I made on Shane. It proves your wrong. Also I never called you a sexual predator. You are wrong about that as well." In this text we're seeing technical Greg. He implied many times that Madison made his family feel uncomfortable, that she overstayed her welcome, etc. Though I think it's a jump to use the word sexual predator, I can understand why Madison would feel that way. Technically he didn't call her that. His Shane Dawson "documentary" had no clear point, but even if she wasn't refering to that, Greg has made a lot of statements against Shane Dawson.

Madison replies, "You want me to dig out the texts you decided to publicly tweet about me?" I think those are deleted now by the way, but with Greg's audience, it doesn't matter if they're deleted, the damage is done.

Greg's reply is, "ALso why would you be in contact with a self-admitted pathological liar (my ex of over 7 years ago)? Do you not see how weird and inappropriate that is? I broke up with her for cheating on me, then I end your and my friendship/refuse to work with you, and this is what you do?" He makes a few more messages, but this one speaks volumes because it looks as though he is trying to make her out to be the bad person when he's been accused of something. Classic deflecting Greg.

The next three texts say, "Like I said, I never called you what you say I did. However I do have proof you slandered me, heavily. Retract, completely or we sue. And you need to retract it on the same place you accused me. On both the Drunken Peasants and wherever else you wrongly acused me." That was at 1:28pm. At 4:11pm Madison's response to him is cut off which says "Do not contact me again." So if there's anything in between those messages, Greg hasn't show us.

Greg reponds to her, "Expect to hear from my lawyer."

Madison says, "I retracted the statement you requested me to retract. Do not contact me again." But that's not good enough for Greg, and this next text of his shows us the controlling nature behind this "man". He says, "Unless you completely retracted your implication that I was ever with a 16 year old and also retracted your implication that you believe I am a pedophile on both The Drunken Peasants & Twitter (as well as anywhere else you said it) I will still be pursuing you legally, making an example out of people" (and it cuts off, but we can assume what it says). The words Greg chooses to use speaks volumes. Unless you do this, I'm gonna do that - whereas she already retracted what she needed to saying that it was a poor choice of words. Her opinion is not something that she legally needs to change. She can believe he's a pedo all she wants. We can believe that shady stuff goes on in the House of Horrors all we want. You can't sue someone for having an belief or opinion.

Next slide is where he highlights the message from her and uses the caption, "She made a public false claim about Onision, and admits it was false. Yet the damage is done. People continue to believe her lies, despite the fact she admitted she did not tell the truth." Once again, the use of his words speaks volumes. He always stresses the words honest and truth. As for the damage being done, the same can be said about his implications and accusations against Shane Dawson. Shane actually has the money and the means to sue Greg for the malicious things Greg has said about Shane. But it only counts if Greg is in that position, right?

The next slide is what Greg probably thinks is an unflattering photo of Ayalla. You could google a better image of her, but Greg uses this tactic that we see so often in the news and media of using unflattering images of people to paint them in a negative light. The caption reads, "This is the ex girlfriend of Social Repose. Onision defended her when she was being blackmailed by Social Repose. She is also the friend of Onision's ex girlfriend, who Onision dumped repeatedly for lying, cheating, and illegal drug use." Greg once again attempts to put himself on a pedestal by saying he defended someone, whilst also victimizing himself claiming that Billie lied, cheated, and participated in illegal activity. Which is interesting given that by all accounts, Greg himself is a criminal. In true Onision fashion, let's go over the definition of criminal: Criminal. noun. 1. a personal who has committed a crime. Destroying wetlands is a crime. Also, Greg is a cheater as well, considering he continued his relationship, or at least attempted to, with Billie, the person he refers to in this, while Lainey was taking care of their kids.

Next he says, "This girl claims that Sarah, a girl Onision and Laineybot first met in person when she was 16 and were only friends (and remained just friends even after she turned 18) "groomed" the girl." He conveniently left out the fact that Lainey was in contact with Sarah when she was as young as 14 years old. Lainey was 21 at the time. If it was a cis-man in contact with a 14 year old girl, it would be considered disgusting and creepy, so how about we toss out the double standards and call it like it is.

Moving on, in the next slide Greg mentions everything he did for Ayalla as though that has any bearing in the situation... especially since it was years ago. Notice that this is one of Greg's favorite tactics making him seem like a caring, good guy. It reads, "This girl spent about a week total around Onision, free housing, free meals, collaborating in videos, free plane ticket paid for by Onision, and knows for a fact we never did not do anything inappropriate with Sarah. In fact she knows very well that I (Onision) was often mean to Sarah. Which I have since apologized for."

What strikes me as odd is that Greg, the literary guy, says "we never did not do anything inappropriate" Freudian slip or just a rush in editing? What also strikes me as odd is that he says, in fact she knows I treated Sarah like crap, as though that makes any of this better.

Next slide reads, "In fact the only reason this girl was even around Kai and Onision is because Onision's ex begged Onision to bring her, despite Onision preferring not to take care of another adult's expenses." This is a world of crap right here. For starters, Greg can't stay consistent and switches from referring to Lainey as Lainey and as Kai. He also fails to include Lainey in the relationship.... Lainey was the one who initially pursued Billie and the intent was for those two to have the relationship, to which Greg sorta invited himself into and whether by spousal pressure or insecurity, Lainey allowed for a very short time. It's clear with how many failed poly relationships that this marriage should not be poly but rather just open. As for the begging, I believe this was debunked already. Billie did not beg for Ayalla to be there but asked. However by using the term beg, Greg attempts to make Billie and Ayalla look as though they had stepped on his toes. He could have said no, but he didn't. That's on him.

Next slide reads, "Onision's ex indicated that this girl was the reason why previous relationships did not work out because her ex-boyfriends did not like her." That has absolutely no fact behind it, we're literally supposed to take Greg's word for it. This is Greg attempting to pit Billie and Ayalla against each other. Notice how he uses "indicated" instead of "stated".

Next, "Other than her previous boyfriend who allegedly cheated on her with Shannon (the youtuber) according to Onision's ex at the time they were dating." This is one of the few times Greg mentions a person's name, and he uses the word allegedly. Allegedly to cover his own ass. I'm sure this is to deflect and create drama between other people. Remember when it comes to Onision, he loves to deflect from his own issues and stir up stuff between other people... allegedly.

Next is where it gets real with allegations. Greg states in this slide, "While this girl lies about Sarah being groomed, she leaves out the fact that she asked Sarah if Sarah would have sex with her in just the short week she was around Onision, Sarah, and Kai. So you can understand why I regret ever flying her out. She is a liar and a pervert." Meanwhile Ayalla ain't stressing because she knows that's not true. Greg asked Sarah to make a video saying that there was no sexual intercourse between them and Sarah, but doesn't ask her to make a video with these allegations? Is Sarah even aware that he's using her as a pawn in his twisted game? Furthermore, the evidence is stacking against Onision and Lainey about the grooming allegations. Whereas there's nothing remotely substantial to back up the claims of Ayalla asking Sarah to sleep with her, besides Greg's statement. Not even from Sarah herself, this is coming from Greg.

Next, "Remember how the first girl asked Onision to stop contacting her right after she realized she was wrong and retracted her slanderous statement? People often do this when they realize they have lost the argument. They have nothing left to defend themselves with, because the truth is not on their side." Wrong on so many counts. Let's bring the texts up again, part of them are cut off. Madison retracted her statement multiple times already, but Greg really wanted it in text. She did not lose anything. People often tell others to not contact them when they are tired of being harassed and/or don't want contact with that person. Since he continued to threaten her with being sued via text - rather than actually following through with it - he did not respect her statement. Greg does not understand what the truth is, given how biased this video is. Next slide he says here are the receipts (spoiler alert they aren't actually receipts, just screenshots, in which he proves that he doesn't respect the wishes of anyone telling them to stop contacting them):

We can assume he has tried to call her and she texts him: "Anything you have to say to me you may say in writing. I don't know what you could possibly discuss with me." Straight to the point.

Greg's response: "It's ok. Our lawyer will contact you." Again bringing up the lawyers that he allegedly doesn't have the money to pay for.

Ayalla responds: Looking forward to it.

And rather than ending it there, he texts her at length the next day: "Sarah very clearly asked you to not talk about her/to leave her alone. Why are you harassing Sarah? Can you please stop causing problems in her life?" I'm gonna stop to say, there's no evidence or screenshots of harassment. The fact that Ayalla slipped up and used Sarah's name in a stream is very clearly just a mistake. Anyone who had tuned into the livestream was there because of the allegations against Onision and Laineybot with Sarah. I understand her not wanting to be named, and Ayalla did her best, it was clearly not malicious. "Additionally Sarah has made it clear you hit on her when you were at our house. You even asked her if she would be willing to sleep with you, and these are Sarah's words." Unless Sarah comes forward to accuse Ayalla, it bears absolutely zero truth. Given what both Lane and Ayalla have had to say about Sarah and what Sarah has said about her possible future relationship with Lainey, I cannot believe Greg.

"I keep hearing about the things you are saying and you admitted you have brain damage acording to Sarah who watched your live stream." Having brain damage does not equate to memory damage, it could be that she has trouble with finding the correct words, and needing extra time to find the correct words. Classic Greg trying to discredit someone with more evidence than he could provide.

"Please get help for your issues and leave Sarah, who has asked you to not discuss her in any way, alone." And this is the Greg who has shown a little bit of concern and empathy lately, but by Greg's own admission, it's easy to fake. "You are harassing her and she just wants to live her life." Again, no evidence of harassment. You got receipts on that, Greg?

"Lastly, you will be receiving a cease and desist soon." Except he continues not just in this same text, but in another.

"You told me long ago to move on, and I did, yet here you are, trying to get back in all of our lives. Please take your own advice, leave Sarah alone and be happy with your own life. Thank you and get well soon." For starters, I feel as though if Ayalla wanted to actually be in their lives, she would reach out to them personally instead of speaking out against them. Secondly, Greg attempts to put himself on this pedestal by showing us his fake concern by telling her he wishes her well.

"Additionally Sarah confirmed most everything you're saying about her is a lie. I'm going to assume you are saying these things as a result of the brain damage you mentioned. I do hope you get well soon." Again, Greg tries to discredit Ayalla and claims that Sarah has confirmed Ayalla being a liar, without providing a lick of evidence. She can't confirm anything, all she can do is say, "uh yeah, false." And I understand why Sarah would say none of this is true, if she's attempting to stay in Greg and Lainey's lives, and maybe she thinks she's the exception because she's just so mature for her age, but she's still young and fully capable of being manipulated by Greg.

Ayalla replies, "I have asked you repeatedly to stop contacting me Greg. You may paint me however you wish but I know the truth and you can't hide from it anymore." Again, short and to the point.

Greg says, "Then why does everyone involved, both Sarah and Kai, claim you are lying? You, a person who was only around for one week, who also hit on/asked Sarah to sleep with you?" Ok, before we continue, I want to mention that if Sarah truly was 16 at the time and Ayalla was 18 or 19, it would have been legal. I'm going to read this for all of you, so that you may get a better understanding of why Greg is wrong on so many counts:

The Washington Age of Consent is 16 years old. In the United States, the age of consent is the minimum age at which an individual is considered legally old enough to consent to participation in sexual activity. Individuals aged 15 or younger in Washington are not legally able to consent to sexual activity, and such activity may result in prosecution for statutory rape.

Washington statutory rape law is violated when a person has consensual sexual intercourse with an individual under age 16. The age of consent is raised to 18 when the partners are a foster parent and foster child, when the older partner is at least 60 months older than their 16 or 17 year old partner and abuses their significant relationship(as defined by RCW 9A.44.010) to have sexual intercourse, or when the partners are teacher and student(this law was actually interpreted by the Washington State Supreme Court to extend to students up to 21 years old).

I don't personally believe that Ayalla would say that considering she was in a relationship with Social Repose at the time, but even if that was the case, it would have been legal for her to ask, or even act on it. It would have been completely illegal for Sarah to have sexual relations with Lainey if she were 16 because of Lainey's guardianship, which they spoke about in a stream. Now that Sarah is 18 years old, it would be legal. Morally questionable, but legal.

Continuing, Ayalla responds, "Your lies will get you nowhere." Greg says, "That's Sarah saying this." Either she is using his phone to which she would probably not refer to herself in the third person the way Greg does. Also, she never states that Ayalla asked her that, or remotely hit on her. Ayalla responds, "Please stop contacting me." Greg does not respect this and continues, because he has a fundamental lack of respect for all women. That's nothing new though.

"Stop talking about Sarah, publicly humiliating her. None of us are saying anything bad about you publicly, you are the one who needs to stop. Sarah asked you, I'm defending her right to privacy. You need to move in with your life, finally." Sarah is an adult now, at 18 years old, so she will be treated as such. No one can defend her using harassment.

Ayalla simply says, "Do not contact me again." Take a shot every time she has to say that. Don't do that, you'll get alcohol poisoning.

Once again, Greg disregard her wishes and says, "All right! Just please don't ask people like Sarah to sleep with you and then years later claim others were as perverted as you are." Oh, Greg. You're doin too much. He literally says, don't ask people like Sarah to sleep with you... what? People who you want to possess or...?

"Best of luck to you and reviving from your brain damage. Seriously, wish you will. Cease and desist is being sent soon and legal action will be taken against you if you continue to humiliate and harass Sarah." Again with the brain damage to which Greg doesn't even know the extent of. Why bother mentioning cease and desist if you already said that if not to use it as a scare tactic? And he also says he'll pursue legal action if she continues to humiliate and harass Sarah... which there's no evidence of anyway, so clearly he's not going to.

Greg being Greg doesn't even end it there, "Heal, get well and find a better use of your time than harassing victims of your sexual harassment (Sarah was 16 at the time you asked her if she would sleep with you) - Get help and become a better person. Goodbye." Was Greg a cheerleader when he was younger because I can almost hear him chanting, "Be aggressive, passive aggressive." Again, no evidence and big if, but if it were true it would not be illegal for Ayalla to ask Sarah to sleep with her.

And of course, in all caps, Ayalla says "STOP CONTACTING ME".

In the next slide, he says "Sarah asked this girl to stop talking about her, directly, and in response this girl tweeted "the plot thickens" - Ok, for starters, Ayalla could have been talking to multiple people about this situation and found out more. Your attempt at correlating is not a direct causation.

"Then proceeded to live streaming, exploiting Sarah for personal gain despite her asking for her to not speak of her. She then uploaded a youtube version of her live stream, where she made hundreds of dollars on her channel, which prior got barely any views." He doesn't know how much she made, and since it is her channel she is allowed to do what she wants. Also, Ayalla has 50k subs, so I'm sure she gets more than just barely any views.

Next slide, "In response to this liar/pervert who asled a 16 year old girl if she wanted to sleep with her making false claims about Kai, the now adult Sarah made the following public statement." Again, harping on the accusation, making it seem like it's illegal. The now adult Sarah did not address anything other than what Greg allegedly asked her to address... something no one was even accusing them of. Grooming has been speculated and there's more evidence of that than anything.

Over this video, Greg has made captions, which read, "Sarah asked this girl to stop talking about her/stop srpeading lies, yet she continued. This video was made as a public plea to discontinue the lies. The girl simply refuses to stop harassing Sarah"

Let me repeat. The accusations were about the inappropriate nature of Lainey and Sarah's relationship and grooming.

"The ex girlfriend of Social Repose" keyword ex and they are no longer associated with each other. "the friend of a girl who was dumped repeatedly for lying, cheating, breaking the law" Greg's way of being a hypocrite. "The girl with nearly no views on her youtube channel" actually about as much if not more than Greg, so... "who was asked by multiple parties to not try and exploit their lives with lies," which she didn't do. "the girl who has everything to gain off lying to the public through revenge and monetary gain for her friend being dumped" why does he keep bringing up Billie... the dude doth project too much if you ask me. "The girl who also asked a 16 year old Sarah to sleep with her (and Sarah backs up this claim)" Sarah just said she didn't want others speaking for her, so she herself can accuse Ayalla publicly, and even then, it's not illegal - whereas anything between Sarah and her former guardian was entirely illegal.

"The girl who also, with Onision's ex, Onision's ex tried to convince a 16 year old Sarah to starve herself like she did, to become part of her eating disorder" that is so grammatically incorrect I can't properly address it, but again, Sarah's an adult now she can address it herself. "and the friend of Onision's ex who offered Sarah illegal drugs, as a 16 year old" no evidence, Greg, "who tried to get Sarah to move in with them as well..." and honestly if the latter is true, I'd assume it had something to do with being concerned about Sarah's wellbeing... you know, like how Lainey took her in for Sarah's wellbeing.

"Again, all facts backed up by Sarah's claims." If you're going to use the term facts, back it up with evidence. Claims are not evidence. "Sarah, a person who is does not have Youtube channel and does not try to turn drama into money" except when she livestreams about the drama?

The next slide is of Madison again where he harps about how desperate she was to date Greg and Lainey. "And this girl, someone who tried to get in a relationship with Onision and Kai and was repeatedly rejected." EVIDENCE. "A girl who cheated on her boyfriend with his boss, who was drunk while slandering Onision, someone who went out of her way to connect with Onision's ex of over 7 years." Hang on though, it's not really that hard to get in contact with another person... like you type some words... sorta how it wouldn't really be that hard for Greg to look up laws about age of consent laws and the EPAs stance on wetlands.

"A girl who lost her friendship with Onision for going behind his back while still trying to be his friend, dishonest." Sure Jan.

Next slide he completely contradicts what he had texted to Madison, "And admitted she was wrong about Onision, issued a public retraction of what she said about Onision." So it's almost like he manipulated her into the retraction to specifically discredit her in this video. Hmm... interesting.

Next slide is of both Ayalla and Madison. The above heading reads, "You trust these two people, one of which admitted she lied.. and the other asked a 16 year old girl if she wanted to have sex with her..." Under the photo of Madison it says "Lied about Onision publicly and later admitted it/retracted." She didn't lie though... she admitted it was a poor choice of words but not that it was a lie. And under Ayalla, it saus "Asked a 16 year old girl if she wanted to have sex with her and offered the 16 year old drugs illegally" do i need to harp on the legalities like Greg harps on his ex, who was initially just supposed to be dating Lainey until he forced his way into the relationship. Was that a poor choice of words? Allegedly.

In the next slide there's a picture of Lainey with what looks like Greg's mom and he has a caption pointing the picture, "And this is the person you think is guilty? THIS is the person you guys are demonizing and trying to ruin the life of? Over what?" Then a caption pointing to a picture of Ayalla reading, "This girl's attempt at five seconds of fame?"

This is Greg's poor attempt at mimicking what the news and media does by using a flattering picture of Lainey and an unflattering one of Ayalla, because he thinks this sweet picture of his mom and Lainey will make us change our minds when there's a lot of shady stuff online that doesn't paint Lainey as this innocent party.

In the next slide, he lines up a well done photo of Lainey, a well done selfie of Sarah, and a photo of Ayalla midspeech, basically just repeating what he had already claimed.

Then he dedicates a slide just to the word and and an elipses, followed by a slide, again harping on Madison, which says that Madison "claims she publicly retracted her statements about Onision" except using the phrase claim is incorrect because she factually retracted her statement by saying, I REPEAT, it was a poor choice of words. Next to an image of Greg and Lainey, with the caption "if very happy he is no longer friends with a liar like her." She may flip flop, but at least the chick corrects herself.

Long story short... is the next slide. Followed by a slide of both Sarah and Ayalla but with the word pervert over Ayalla's photo... The caption says the same shit he's been claiming in this video. The next slide of Madison is pointless really and pretty much his attempt at being gracefully petty, but falls short because it's Greg.

Next, Greg says in true narcissistic fashion - oh no, there I go diagnosing a narcissist without any credentials, just my diploma from Google University - he says "To everyone else, I forgive you for being wrong... But now you have no excuse to continue being wrong."

Then Greg asks everyone to go to twitter and apologize to Lainey, and to comment an apology to Sarah on that video... because he needs the engagement that badly I guess.

And in his next slide he alleges, "We are still pursuing legal action against this girl, who has yet to retract her statements and will be pursued in court with three separate witness and other evidence that remains private." I love that he claims he has evidence and conveniently states that it's private after previously saying that he's taking Sarah's word for it and Sarah is the one making all of the claims. I repeat, claims.

TL;DW: Greg is trying to manipulate his audience into believe that he and his spouse are not predators by attempting to discredit one person who has come forward, and another person who made a passing statement in a livestream and apologized saying it was a poor choice of words.

If you've had any interaction that you find odd or questionable or has made you feel uncomfortable, don't hesitate to reach out. My twitter and instagram require requests and you can reach out to me, but I am not the only one willing to listen. Ayalla has made a tweet saying her DMs are open, and if there are any other youtubers, streamers, etc who are open to listening, please feel free to comment and I will the comment a heart.

I'll catch you guys in my next video.

#scripts #onision allegations

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skinny-boy-endeavours · 6 years

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I can hardly bear it anymore, I realize that my good intentions towards myself have led me nowhere, and here I sit, seeing again that my so-called “right attitude” has earned me no reward, no result, no satisfaction. I may be at a healthy weight, according to medical standards, and slimmer than most people around me, I realize that I am not happy all the same, and probably never will be. Pain is my daily life, and has been for as long as I can remember. I am 27 yet my body feels at least trice as old, and I can say without fear of questioning that I have the body of an old man, however young I may appear to most people who believe me to be still in my early twenties or my late teen years....

Little do they know!

I have been complimented upon my endurance and my steadiness, but I cannot do otherwise, for if I recline upon myself, I should be ready to end it all.

Since it has not succeeded formerly, for I have attempted to my days several times (at least 4 or 5), only to find myself buried under the same obligations towards myself, my family, etc.

To endure means practically nothing, when nothing else remains for one.

I feel old and as though I have missed my life, and every morning is a struggle to get ready for work and other occupations.

I am old, however striking this might sound to any people above my own age, who feel it unfair to be given sudden additional years through my complaining of my own. It seems I have died long ago. I have been feeling this depressive and suicidal for years, and it has gone into a normal state of being for I don’t even think bout it expected some nights like this one. I am not normally of the complaining type, and tomorrow surely I will go on like I always have. I used not to understand my own need for creating tumblr blog centred around mental problems I thought to possess only in a mild way, and only now I see what it is to need a pro-ana blog to “vent”.

My psychiatrists, my psychologists, all those nice people whom I respect, or anyone else, whatever diploma or speciality they way possess, cannot see a single percentage of what I am going through every moment of my life, and for how long I have borne it and probably still shall bear it eternally.

Those so-called specialists are so full of themselves that they do not see that we, eating-disordered people, on the mere score of our endurance and forbearance, we are not to be classified as dysfunctional beings who would benefit from a prolonged voluntary hospitalization: as long as we are not 17.5 by BMI, and that we are not in an “observable death-nearing condition of malnutrition and body depletion), we are no good candidates for the medical body, nor are we taken into account or even looked upon as distressed in any medically recognizable way.

I hardly ever express this sort of longings and feelings, neither here on tumble nor “in real life”, but to all those who take it upon themselves, once brainwashed by their own doctors and the good society, to relinquish their former desires for perfection by the means of an eating disorder, and to have no rest until all the pro-ana blogs have been shut down, I say this: we are not bad people, not criminals, only people who suffer from a condition that is treated distinctly by both the so-called medical professionals AND the bulk of society. We are practically never given the appropriate means to express ourselves, and therefore pro-ana blogs are both necessary and salutary. Anorexia, or bulimia, and other such ailments, if they are really so, in pure keeping with the psychiatric logic, can by definition not be prevented, at least no more than can schizophrenia or bipolar disorder: they are meant of develop or they are not: therefore, shutting down of tumblr pro-ana blogs will not lessen or ease this issue, but rather worsen it. There is no other means of expression for eating-disordered people, and this is a state of affairs that can be experienced not only by the sufferers, but by everyone around them: there is no salvation, unfortunately, either amongst the crew of psychiatrists, medical people and tutti quanti, nor amongst the variously sympathetic and sensitive good society (this includes family, friends, coworkers and all the rest of it). Therefore, only a platform such a tumblr or blogs can provide a possibility for the ED community to “vent”, and to lessen the weight of the problem, so to speak, and it has never been invented to ‘promote” eating disorders, which cannot be done anyway since they are mental diseases like schizophrenia and the like, and the pro-ana movement has no goal of propagations of problems: we have enough without inventing ourselves supplementary concerns and worries, unlike the good-hearted pro-aha-blogs-fighters who have got nothing else to do, ONCE their disease properly addressed (which is the ultimate goal), to scan and roam the web chasing after”bad and ill-intentioned pro-ana bloggers”... Grotesque!

The goal of pro-ana blogs, or not pro anything, really is, and has always been to provide some alleviation of our problems, and nothing else. Take this away and soon, quite soon, you will see that the problem, not only shall have not been resolved, but that it shall have worsened. When the psychiatrist will have found a more competent way of addressing a mental problem otherwise than through mere “force-feeding” (which has never deterred any anorexic from pursuing her or his behaviour), then these blogs will become less of a necessity. But unless and until then, the pro-ana movement shall retain its raison d’être and cannot be brushed aside without provoking a bad effect. To eliminate the effect, one must look for the cause: eating disorders have no proper response anywhere else than on the internet. This resort has been devised out of a need and not out of a vain search for conversion: this is the pastime of medicine, science in general, ever since it has dislodged the place of religion in people’s hearts

Enough said: I feel better.

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herbalsonlineshopee · 3 years

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Depression And Major Depression

People will be shocked to learn that I suffered from major depression throughout my entire life. There are many kinds of depression. However, it is easy to distinguish between major and minor depression.

Before I reached my twenties, I had experienced at least three episodes depressive episodes. Over the next 30 years, I experienced multiple depression episodes and was eventually diagnosed with SAD (Seasonal Adverse Disorder).

Each episode seemed to become herbalsonlineshopee more and more difficult. It lasted three months in 2003. I was puzzled that it started in the summer. I also began to question the SAD theory I had been taught.

The depression returned in the summer 2006, and this time it was not going away. It was again during the summer months. I began to search for answers. How could I be so depressed when these events seemed to occur during the sunshine? Medical professionals decided to review my file and reexamine their diagnosis. The medical professionals realized that I was suffering from major depression bipolar disorder and began a treatment plan.

It is a shame that I didn't question the diagnosis three years ago. This may have saved me from the emotional rollercoaster ride of the past two-and-a half years. It took us months to determine if any of the medications would work, and then we had to go back to the beginning again.

The following information about depression was helpful to me when I was trying to find answers. This information will help others to understand the difficulty of this disease, whether you are living with it or caring for someone who is.

Major depressive disorder (also known as major depression or unipolar depression or clinical depression) is a mental disorder that causes a persistent low mood and loss in interest or enjoyment in normal activities. If a person has experienced one or more major depression episodes, the diagnosis will be made. The patient's self-reported experience and observations are used to diagnose the condition. Major depression is not diagnosed by a laboratory. However, doctors may test for similar symptoms and other conditions before diagnosing the patient. There are many possible courses, from a single occurrence to a chronic disorder that causes recurrent episodes over time. According to Wikipidia.

How can this possibly affect us? What symptoms should we be paying attention to?

Many psychiatric professionals recommend that you report any changes or increases in any of these to your doctor.

- DON'T REMOVE FROM SLEEP AND REFLECT SLEEPING - GET UP EARLY - Sleeping too much - Feeling sad? - Feeling overwhelmed - INCREASED or DECREASED APPETITE - SUDDEN WEIGHT LOSS/GAIN - CONCENTRATION/DECISION MAKING - DECREASEDSELF ESTEEM - THOUGHTS OF DEATH or SUICIDE LACK OF INTEREST - ENERGY LEVEL - FEELS RESTLESS - Feeling slower to move or speak.

Depression can cause you to feel helpless and hopeless. The first step to getting treatment can make a huge difference. Only one solution is medical care. For assistance, consult a professional.

There are many causes of debilitating depression. Depression is caused by a chemical imbalance that alters the brain's function.

Brain is made up billions of nerve cells, called neurons. Neurotransmitters, brain chemicals that are used to send and receive messages from other parts of the body to these neurons are used by neurotransmitters. These brain chemicals are responsible for our emotional state in varying amounts. These chemical messages between brain cells can be misinterpreted and cause depression.

There are many treatments that can be used to help with depression. These include medications that strengthen weak signals or increase the ability of neurons to process signals. This helps ensure that vital brain messages are being received.

Who gets depression?

Depression can make it difficult to feel loved, but many people will experience some type of depression at one time or another. Depression can strike anyone at any age, but its effects may differ depending on gender and your gender.

The likelihood of depression in women is almost twice that of men. This could be partly due to hormonal changes caused by menopause, puberty, menstruation and menopause. The onset of the condition is most common between the ages 30 and 40. There are later peak periods between 50 and 60. This condition seems to be more common among women.

Men. Men are at greater risk of depression than women. However, they are less likely to be diagnosed and to seek help. Although they may display the usual symptoms of depression, men are more likely than women to be aggressive and hostile. They also tend to hide their depression with drugs or alcohol abuse. Suicide is a serious concern for men with depression. They are four times more likely to commit suicide than women.

Seniors. Elderly people might lose their loved ones, and may have to adapt to living alone. They might become less active due to illness. Depression can be caused by these changes. The signs and symptoms of depression may be blamed on aging. Many older people don't want to discuss their problems. Older people might not get treatment for depression.

Children. Depression is not a matter of age. Family structure has changed, causing more stress to the family. The social pressures they feel now have a negative impact on children. Many children are affected by social pressures, including bullying, abuse, and pressures to succeed. Parents should look out for signs and symptoms. Depression is leading to suicide rates in this age group.

DEPRESSION DOESNT DISCRIMINATE It's not a rare disease

Some great information was provided by me about the Definition of Manic Depression, also known as Major Depression.

Manic-depression is a combination of mood swings that alternate between extreme highs and lows. This condition is also known as bipolar disorder. Bi-Polar, a form of depressive disorder, is less common than other types.

Sometimes mood changes are sudden and dramatic, but they are more common to be gradual. Mania can cause severe problems and embarrassment by affecting thinking, judgment, or social behavior. Manic episodes can lead to poor financial or business decisions. Bipolar disorder can be a recurring, chronic condition.

Hypomania refers to a mild-to-moderate level of manic symptoms. Hypomania can feel good and be associated with improved productivity and functioning. Even if family members and friends recognize hypomania as bipolar disorder, it is possible for the individual to deny that there is anything wrong. Hypomania can lead to severe mania or depression in certain people if it is not treated properly. . With proper treatment, most people with bipolar disorder can experience significant stabilization in their mood swings. Long-term preventive treatment for bipolar disorder is highly recommended. The best strategy for managing bipolar disorder is to combine medication with psychosocial treatment. To treat bipolar disorder, medications known as mood stabilizers are often prescribed.

There are many mood stabilizers available, including Lithium and Valproate, Carbamazepine (lamotrigine), Gabapentin, gabapentin, and carbamazepine. Psychosocial treatments, which include certain forms of psychotherapy or "talk" therapy, can be helpful in providing support, education and guidance for people with bipolar disorder. Psychosocial interventions have been shown to improve mood stability, reduce hospitalizations, and help with functioning in many areas. Cognitive behavioral therapy, psychoeducation, family therapy and a newer technique called interpersonal and social rhythm therapy are all common psychosocial interventions for bipolar disorder.

#herbalsonlineshopee

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thenewbubonic · 6 years

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Kanye – ye

The album is populated with mutters and drawls, modulated voices, instrumentals that are held together by the drums as the melody traverses a scape of samples. Vocal guests appear and vanish before the next in line. The opening, I Thought About Killing You, is a spoken word feature which casts an American Psycho pallor over the whole thing. When he’s talking about rampant casual sex in the next song, and you remember this guy is 40 and with 3 kids, it sounds more like someone letting you into his kill room more than someone just high on life and fun. The backing instrumental is pretty and it is impactful and it opens the scene on the album effectively. There’s self-doubt, depression present in his talk about killing himself, but for the most part Kanye is introducing this project with repeating over and over how much he loves himself and that he wants to kill you: pure egomania.

What’s unmistakable is that this album is beautiful. The sounds here are delicious and warm, shining like a Wyoming dawn. Kanye is also rapping better on this than he had on most of TLOP although, just like that album, that he has anything at all to say at this point in his career is a bit of a stretch. Regardless of whether he’s delivering great bars, the energy is present and it makes it much more listenable than TLOP where there are a lot of moments that felt phoned in. That this album is only 7 tracks feels a little bit like an over-reach in artistic cut-sight. The thematic tone feels rushed when you go from the American Psycho opener to him offering a fond remembrance of dark nights 8 minutes later. You want to feel the whole stupor and the dawn before this reminiscent track, but instead the short tracklist confines this album’s reach to that of a playlist. The somber synth that appears at the beginning of All Mine returns in Violent Crimes and speaks to an unseen world of sound. It seems likely that is an element that will be drawn out in future concert performances of this album.

It feels a bit like getting a dark and strange short story from one of your favorite authors later on in his career, and in that sense it is an enjoyable project. I could imagine vibing to these songs off some liquor, but at the same time there are moments like on All Mine where the tone is set for this sexy club track and then 40 year old Kanye starts talking and we remember, oh yeah, we’re in his world, and it goes back to feeling more like story time than a song.

The album cover has a little quote scribbled on it: “I hate being / Bi-Polar / its awesome.” And on Yikes he talks about him being on his bipolar, that it’s not a weakness but a super power. It could be taken that this is the thesis statement of this album. Considering the 7 track format is something he’s doing not only for his own album but for those he’s producing, Pusha T’s and Nas’, as well as his collab album with Kid Cudi, it seems more like a retroactive explanation to say that the short tracklist enforces a feeling of sudden, jagged personality change. The intentionality of it makes it more disappointing, because whatever he’s hoping for with the brevity – it doesn’t take. Where most of Kanye’s albums, even Yeezus, sound ultimately sweeping and gracious, this one feels more than ever before like a claustrophobic, instinctive ego-grab. On one hand, the art and artist shouldn’t be seen so closely together, but that is exactly what Kanye does. He makes himself the main attraction of his own art. So, while this album invites you to observe the spectacle that is Kanye, the form and layout speak towards a quieter, more artistic effort and the bipolarity of that contrast is, ultimately, more a detractor than a blessing.

There are few artists whose work exudes such a sheer intelligence: the layers and compositional complexity lead one to think, to wonder. That usually isn’t what music is trying to evoke in its listeners, though. This album exudes thought and control, but with just 7 songs it may be over-controlled, and in turn the beauty is stifled; and whole songs, whole emotions, don’t come through. No Mistakes, for example, comes in at 2:03 and feels like a revisit to the feelings invoked in Bound 2, but the short runtime cuts it short of being a fully thought out song, with almost half of it being taken up in a verse that is bookmarked by two renditions of a chorus.

This album strikes the ear strangely at first: the long introduction serves as a barrier to entry in some ways and the short length will leave listeners wondering if they missed out on a more complete vision and, being confronted with the reality of Kanye matching up with the persona of Kanye it’s impossible to not sense that this 40 year old man is being over-shallow and name-dropping in his efforts to put out exciting music, but this is still a Kanye record full of lovely production, bravado-filled and energetic lyricism, and composition that keeps you coming back to hear it again and again. The final two songs, Ghost Town and Violent Crimes, are by far the most soaring and musically exciting and the ones I’ll be revisiting the most.

In summation, I give this album twelve distant views of a mountainous Wyoming sunset out of which the tides have not visited since ages prehistoric.

#kanye #ye #album #review #album review

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shamelessly4shameless-blog · 7 years

Text

We Got Time.

Happy Gift Exchange @godisthedice The prompt you sent was: Sentinel AU - Sentinel!Ian and Guide!Mickey. Ian is a fragile Sentinel/prone to zoning out because of his bipolar. Any take on the AU you want other than that! Now I have to confess I have never heard of Sentinel before so I have had to embellish a little but this is what I came up with and I hope you like it :-)

Mickey has been going to Boys Town for a while. Four months to be exact. At first, he hung back and watched, glaring at anyone who approached him, no matter how hot they were or how drunk he was. After a couple of visits to the same place, a rough and ready bar called Pile Driver with none of the pretty, eclectic lighting and décor of the more popular places on the strip, Mickey decided to try his luck with a blonde, who looked like a redhead under the red bulbs lining the limited seating area.

The sex had been pretty good, not rough enough for Mickey’s liking and over too soon, but it had been a release of sorts and the guy had large hands and solid jaw and was tall as fuck. He had been nice enough and quiet enough that Mickey didn’t immediately get up and leave afterwards. They had a drink, chatted shit and then shook hands and disappeared into the night, going their separate ways without remorse. It had been easy and easy was exactly what Mickey wanted.

Being gay in Southside was not pleasant. Being gay in his father’s household was outright dangerous. It had taken Terry getting a six year stretch for some stupid shit that Mickey didn’t even know the details of, for him to consider seeking out what he wanted so badly.

After the first time Mickey found it easier and easier to get what he needed. He didn’t go off with someone every time he visited, he wasn’t fuckin’ desperate! But if he spotted someone who looked good and didn’t chat shit at him like he was some virginal twink in need of reassurance, then yeah, Mickey might go out back with them.

It’s kinda monotonous and maybe a little less than Mickey truly wants but it satisfies at least a part of whatever the fucked up thing it is inside him and so he keeps going back, wearing his few smart button downs in a random rotation in the hope that no one will notice he always wears the same things. He just about has money for beer, sure as shit doesn’t have money for clothes to impress fairies in dive bars.

On the night when everything changes and Mickey Milkovich’s world gets turned upside down, he is wearing his pale grey button down, the top few buttons undone allowing a glimpse of fitted black tank beneath. He’s wearing dark jeans as usual and steel toe-capped boots, old and frayed so that light sparks off the patches of exposed metal. It could be any of the countless nights he has been there.

He’s on his third beer, getting quietly buzzed and beginning to scan the crowd for potential when he feels it. A wave of confusion and fear, crashing over his mind and lapping at his temples incessantly. Mickey puts his beer down shakily and glances around the club. He can feel whoever it is growing weaker whilst their fear spikes, but he can’t see anyone who looks like they are in distress – every fucker in the club seems to be having a great fucking time so who the Hell ...

The bright white lights from the DJ booth rake up the dancefloor, briefly illuminating the club and Mickey sees them – two men huddled close together, one leading the other toward the exit with a firm hand around his waist. The leader is older, his clothes and manner suggest wealth and there is a wedding band on his finger that catches the light treacherously. The other is young, possibly even younger than Mickey. He’s tall and wearing a thin tank top without a jacket despite it being the middle of winter. His eyes, ringed in dramatic black liner are closed, his mouth slack. Mickey huffs an impatient breath and shakes his head. Another tweeker just got off duty at another club most likely. There have been a few of them lately and if Mickey didn’t value his anonymity here so much, he would definitely be bringing some product to shift to these assholes.

The waves of sudden intense feeling from a random person are nothing new to Mickey, he’s had them for years and normally can ignore them, push them aside and move on with his day without a second thought. This time though, trying to ignore it is like trying to ignore a sharp stone in his shoe. He twists and shifts uncomfortably and shrugs at the fabric of his shirt, suddenly too tight across his shoulders. Whatever is going on, it’s not his business and it’s not going to get him laid, so as far as Mickey is concerned, it is not his problem. The feeling eases up slightly when the young man is out of sight and Mickey takes a shaky sip of his beer, sloshing some of it down his sleeve in the process.

“Shit!”

He bunches the cotton over his hand and rubs the damp fabric against his jeans irritably. A brunette on the dancefloor catches his eye and winks. Mickey gives him a small smirk in return and is about to saunter over when another wave of fear strikes him, it is like a firework, sharp and illuminating the darkness but fading quickly, and Mickey grabs his coat from the barstool and starts running towards the light trail before he can think about it.

The cold air hits him as he bursts out of the club, it burns his chest and stings his eyes and he skids on a patch of ice, arms flailing to keep his balance. He looks around frantically, the guy he is following is pushing out all kinds of garbled anguish and horrible as it is to be feeling it all crowding around in his own head, Mickey takes heart at its presence because it means that the kid is still there. He hasn’t lost him. Mickey walks as quickly as he dares, boots crunching the thin ice underfoot, shattering the surface of frozen puddles. He rounds the corner of the building, heading in the direction of the unofficial taxi pick-up point and sees them up ahead.

The old guy is propping the barely conscious guy up, one hand down the kids pants and running the other over his chest as he kisses and licks his face under a street lamp. In the brighter light Mickey can see just how young the redhead is. He makes a disgusted noise at the back of his throat and stomps toward them.

“Why don’t you molest someone your own age, you jerk!”

Mickey grunts, grabbing the older man roughly and dragging him away, slamming one fist into his gut.

“Ow! Fuck!”

The man twists in Mickey’s grip but can’t break loose and glares at him accusingly

“You’re an animal”

“I’m not the one groping and licking on underage boys, am I?”

Mickey quips back at him, his tone more frustrated than truly angry now that the danger of losing them has passed.

“We’re just having some fun …”

“Shut the fuck up! Now give the kid some money before he calls the cops on you.”

There is a stammer of apologies and a flurry of bank notes and then Mickey tires of it all and shoves the old perv backwards, booting him in the ass for good measure as he scurries away.

“And learn how to run like a dude!”

Mickey yells after him, flexing his fists and stooping to pick up the fallen money. He glances up to make sure the asshole who has just completely derailed his night hasn’t wandered off too far. The boy is slumped on his side in a snow bank, pale lips turning blue with cold.

“Jesus Christ.”

Mickey shakes his head and stuffs the cash in his pockets, abandoning the last couple of notes in his concern. He crouches beside him, shaking his arm far more gently than he usually would in such a situation.

“Hey. Hey! Fuck.”

Mickey runs a hand over his face. There is no way the guy is getting up on his own. Mickey looks around as if hoping some magic wheelbarrow might appear and when it doesn’t, he begins to gather the lanky limbs up from the snow. He grunts with the effort of lifting the unconscious body over his shoulder, one arm wrapped securely around the back of his thighs. The kid might be a skinny little shit but he’s solid and the weight of him is both inconvenient and comforting. Mickey is dimly aware that the redhead might piss on him or vomit down his back but he doesn’t worry about it too much.

Southside is not an impossibly long walk away but it’s enough that Mickey grits his teeth and scowls at the thought of navigating the icy patches of sidewalk and hefting them both all the way back to his house but fuck it, he can’t exactly just drop him back down in the snow for some grey-pubed shithead to take advantage of.

“You call for a yoo-ber?”

Mickey glances up in surprise at the driver of the vehicle but after a moments hesitation, nods affirmatively

“Yeah I called for a yoo-ber.”

He echoes, not realising the drivers accent has thrown the word off. What the Hell does Mickey know about cabs? In his world if you need a goddamn ride, you hitch one or steal one – you don’t download a fuckin’ app and pay strangers for shit you can do yourself.

He bundles the redhead into the back seat and clambers in after him, giving the driver his address and shrugging out of his coat. This is definitely one of the nicer cars Mickey has ever ridden in and in other circumstances he’d slip his hand down the seats to check for lost cash, smokes or credit cards – rich people are almost always careless with their stuff – but today he is focussed on the boy whose eyelids are starting to flutter.

Mickey clumsily throws his jacket over the long pale body and sits back in his seat, thinking what his next move should be. The house should be empty but if it’s not he’s just going to have to make something up, maybe he can say that the guy owes him money and Mickey is going to torture it out of him when he wakes up? It’s flimsy but Mickey can’t seem to think properly. The clarity that had come when his fuckin’ damsel in distress passed out is now waning as he wakes, and Mickey’s head is once again crowded with too much emotional static.

He’s heard of this sort of thing. Every now and then a couple of assholes make the news with it – a Sentinel and a Guide find each other in the big wide world and live happily ever after or some stupid shit like that and everyone goes nuts for it. Mickey had anxiously wondered on occasion if he might be a bit like those freaks but he trained himself to ignore the emotions. One thing that growing up with Terry had taught him was how to push your feelings way, way down inside and never let them slip out into view. Mickey is damned expert at that and it’s served him well but something about the redhead beside him … Mickey couldn’t ignore him and he’s fairly certain it wasn’t just because he is hot. He hadn’t even got a good look at him til they were already outside and sure, the flaming hair and strong, pale limbs are nice, his ass is pretty great, and Mickey may have wanted to trail his fingertips over those high cheekbones but it had been more than that … more forceful than lust. The urge to protect and …. Mickey shuts the word ‘Guide’ down in his head before he can even fully think it. Fuck that. It’s all bullshit anyway … probably.

The cab pulls in outside the Milkovich house and the driver shakes his head in confusion when Mickey tries to shove some crumpled dollar bills at him.

“It is charged to your card, Mr Green.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Thanks.”

Mickey nods, as if this makes total sense to him and drags his semi-conscious companion out of the vehicle. Mickey chances setting him on his feet, and although he leans against Mickey’s shoulder heavily, the redhead manages to stand and the effort of doing so seems to wake him up a little.

“I’m Ian. We gonna have a good time?”

Mickey recognises the accent as Southside and smiles a little to himself without looking up at … Ian.

“Oh yeah, a real good time. Most likely listening to you puke up whatever cocktail of crappy knock off pills you ingested with that old creep at the club.”

“You’re pretty.”

Ian mumbles, trying to rest his cheek on Mickey’s head, causing the shorter man to jerk away and both of them to stumble, almost falling on the porch steps.

“Shut the fuck up, Firecrotch.”

Mickey’s tone is far softer than the words he speaks. He can feel exhaustion and uncertainty rolling off Ian in waves and the urge to smooth away his doubts is almost as strong as Mickey’s natural inclination to keep his distance.

“What’s your name?”

“Mickey.”

Ian repeats softly and something about the way Ian says his name makes Mickey smile despite himself.

Making it through the front door is one thing, but navigating the cluttered living room to try and get to Mickey’s bedroom is something else entirely. Mickey irritably kicks bags of stuff aside as he tries to steer Ian through but inches from the bedroom door, Ian snags his foot on something and sprawls across the floor. Mickey grabs for him but a blinding stab of pain overtakes his movements and he staggers back against the wall, the heel of his hand pressed to his forehead.

“Fuck!”

Mickey squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe through it, nostrils flaring. He has never really thought of himself as someone with a great deal of empathy. He tends to think of life as one big cluster fuck and if you fall down, you get fuckin’ trampled – end of story, bitch! But now something loosens within him and Mickey can feel the tight grip he keeps on himself slackening, letting empathy coil out from him and wrap gently around Ian, who is still on the floor, his fingers sticky with blood from a cut above his eyebrow.

“What are you …?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know just …”

Mickey keeps his eyes closed and reaches out with his mind. He has no idea what to do but something is telling him to take them both somewhere safe.

He pictures an empty building, beer cans line the ledges of broken windows, graffiti covers the walls, and it is cold as fuck. However it is also private and they can be alone here. Mickey knows this place well. He turns slightly and sees a large black box to his right, it looks heavy and when Mickey leans into it, the surface is almost uncomfortably hot. Mickey keeps his hands against it though and gradually begins to lean his weight into it, his nailbeds turning white with the force he is exerting. The box rasps against the chipped concrete floor and grudgingly begins to slide back.

In the living room, Ian is watching him with wide, disbelieving eyes as all his fear, even the muddled, muted fear that the drugs had created begins to disperse.

Ian knows what he is, he is a Sentinel and he has accepted that with a sort of reluctant pride. He’s never found cause to be ashamed, not about the shitty house he grew up in, not when he realised he was gay, not when he was diagnosed with bi-polar and not when he discovered his sentinel abilities. He is who he is and doesn’t need anyone to try and change him or save him.

Maybe that is why finding a Guide has been so hard. Many people have felt almost right but none of them have been the one. Even the ones who have accepted most of him, eventually Ian has always been able to feel them prodding tentatively at the edges of bipolar, trying to patch over it or wrap around it, refusing to accept that it is simply a part of who he is.

He feels Mickey approach that part of him, raw and confused and never fully at peace and tenses ready to do whatever it takes to stop it being interfered with, but Mickey simply observes it for a moment and then withdraws his attention.

Mickey pushes the box until something soft and pliant catches his eye. He steps around to look down at it and sees a substance like knotted cobwebs trailing after his progress. The individual strands are pale silver and shimmer in the weak light of the abandoned building. Mickey can tell they are fragile just from looking at them. Whatever the fuck they are, it ain’t his business. He’s here to move this weird box and although the stuff is snagged on it, he doesn’t think that he’s going to damage anything by carrying on. So that is what he does and little by little, the box edges toward one of the gaping holes where the windows used to be and finally, Mickey manages to tip it out, sending it tumbling into the nothingness below. Mickey steps back, panting, and takes a moment to catch his breath.

Ian’s mind clears and his breathing eases, completely in rhythm with Mickey’s own. He wishes Mickey would open his eyes, look at him properly but he takes the opportunity to look freely at his body, taking as much as he can in. Large feet in heavy boots and strong, stocky legs. His torso is broad and he’s clearly strong but maybe a little … soft? Ian wishes the light was better because he wants to see as much of his new friend as possible … maybe more than a friend should strictly want to see...Ian blinks and cocks his head to the side, squinting to read the words tattooed across Mickey’s fingers and he breaks into a wide smile when he finally pieces the letters together.

The shift in Ian’s mood breaks Mickey’s concentration and he opens his eyes, smiling softly in response to the ripple of happiness that has just washed over him. An electric blue gaze meets a gentle green one and it is almost too much.

Almost.

Love at first sight it a myth that Mickey Milkovich has long called bullshit on, but the swell of Ian’s emotion crashes over him like a summer storm, hot and fast, understanding and want crashing around him like thunder and the look in his eyes illuminating Mickey’s world like so many forks of lightening. He takes a shuddering breath and sees it mirrored on Ian’s lips. Mickey has no idea how he could stop it even if he wanted to and so he lets it flow over him and out of him, his cheeks growing hot with the unspoken admission.

Their breathing is completely in tandem, chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm. Mickey bites down on his lower lip until he tastes the metallic tang of blood. He can feel Ian, all of Ian. He can feel him as clearly as he can feel the throbbing of his bitten lip and he knows instinctively that Ian can feel him just as well. Hopes, fears, dreams. Their qualities and flaws all laid out in a dazzling array of complexities and acceptance blooms, clear and honest and vibrant in the small, cluttered room on a street in Chicago’s notorious South Side.

“We gotta put something on that cut.”

His voice is strained even to his own ears and Ian doesn’t reply, merely rubs the back of his hand across the wound, dashing away the drying blood, wiping it off on his jeans before holding out his hand to Mickey.

If what the papers and news reports say is true, they may not have had a choice in the unexpected bond that had formed between them but as Mickey bent to touch his fingers to Ian’s palm, he knew that it was a conscious choice and one that he would probably make every day for the rest of his life.

“Are you my Guide, Mickey?”

Ian asks, almost shyly, squeezing Mickey’s fingers tightly as the words echoing between their newly linked perceptions. The question startles Mickey out of his own thoughts and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“How the fuck should I know?”

Mickey scowls, aware that this is not how Guides are supposed to speak to their Sentinels. They’re meant to be all calm and zen and shit. Ian doesn’t seem to mind though. Ian smiles again, a sweet, full-lipped smile that makes Mickey’s stomach flutter. If he was Ian’s Guide he should feel in complete control, he should be dominating the situation completely but that is not what is happening. Something is shifting between them, a swift change like sand dunes disturbed by a strong wind only to form a more beautiful pattern on the desert floor.

Ian pulls Mickey down to him and Mickey slides willingly onto the floor beside him, letting Ian’s large hands frame his face, cradling him and sending a constant stream of curious, hopeful contentment across the fragile air between them.

“Have you ever …?”

“No.”

Mickey shakes his head firmly and then hesitates, a slight frown creasing his brow.

“Wait, you talking about this gay shit or this weird new shit?”

Ian laughs and it is the best sound Mickey thinks he has ever heard. Not much can cajole Mickey out of a decent frown but that sound does.

“Weird new shit. You found me at Pile Driver so I figured … you know ...”

Ian rubs his thumb lightly over Mickey’s cheek, playfully tugging his earlobe. Mickey looks away and bites his answering grin back, sucking in his cheeks and making a bored motion with his tongue.

Ian leans forward and their lips touch ever so briefly. It is the first time Mickey has ever been kissed and he pushes out a sense of exhilaration so strong it makes Ian laugh that rich, wonderful laugh again as they pull apart.

The connection between the two boys has been thrumming along gently, like soft background music in a restaurant, but now Mickey begins to weaken it, pulling away a little, wanting his space back. He might have just fallen in love with someone and that is shit that needs individual processing, not a group activity.

“Don’t ...”

Ian’s brow creases and he grips the back of Mickey’s head tightly, fingers raking through the thick black hair.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’, man. Wanna get out of your head before I fuck something up in there.”

“You won’t!”

Ian shakes his head and Mickey snorts, gently unfolding Ian’s fingers from his head and placing them away from him.

“You done this before?”

“No but ... I’ve heard about it and I know a bit.”

“But you can’t do what I just did?”

“No …”

“And you don’t know how that bit works?”

“Not really …”

“Right. So learn a unique skill or shut the fuck up.”

Mickey smiles gently and disentangles himself from Ian, standing and offering him a hand up.

Ian presses his lips together and gives Mickey an exasperated look climbing to his feet unaided.

“Fuck you! You’re my Guide and you’re supposed to help me do … whatever shit I need to do.”

“I just fuckin’ did!”

Mickey raises his eyebrows, almost daring Ian to contradict him.

“Well maybe I need more help!”

“Jesus. You always this needy?”

“No. I usually just get what I want.”

Ian smirks and Mickey returns it ruefully.

“Yeah I bet you do, Firecrotch.”

“Ian.”

“Whatever. Bathrooms through there. Go sort that cut out.”

While Ian goes to the bathroom to clean up, Mickey gets a couple of cans of beer from the fridge, considers it, and then pours two glasses of orange juice instead. He doesn’t know how he managed to push the effect of the drugs away, but he is fairly certain that just because he somehow did, Ian still shouldn’t be drinking.

Ian looks at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and flinches. He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes and pallid skin … fuck sake. He feels like he is at the tail end of a come down, it’s a soft landing thanks to Mickey, but his head still feels to heavy for his neck. Though perhaps it is just all that has happened. He had been about to go back to the apartment of some sleazy creep and get pawed over on an expensive couch whilst snorting, smoking and popping as many drugs as he could to try and quiet the sensations in his mind. Then, out of nowhere a beautiful, tough stranger shows up, rescues him, heals him, Guides him and, unless Ian is very much mistaken, they have fallen in love too. What the actual fuck?

He pinches himself sharply wondering if he is about to wake up and hears Mickey’s voice call out from the kitchen

“You okay?”

The connection. Mickey must have let himself back in a little bit just in case. Ian smiles at the thought of someone actually caring enough about him to want to do such a thing.

“Yeah, fine.”

Ian splashes a little water on his face and notices an open letter at his feet. It looks like a bill and it looks like someone has wiped their ass with it. The name at the top of the letter is ‘Mr I. Milkovich.’ - not Mickey then but perhaps a brother? Or maybe his father? Mickey certainly looks young enough to live with his parents still. Perhaps it is just a roommate? It is absolutely fucking weird to know so much about a person and not actually be sure of their last name. Ian grins to himself and adds it to the list of weird shit that just seems to happen to him.

Realising he is taking too long, Ian gently pats his face dry with the hem of his shirt as there are no towels in sight and unlocks the door, heading out to the living room and then following the smell of tobacco smoke though to one of the bedrooms. He finds Mickey sprawled on a rumpled bed, sipping a glass of orange juice. When he sees Ian he gives him a cocky grin and, unless Ian has imagined it, spreads his legs a little wider.

“Take a seat.”

Ian does so, sitting a little awkwardly on the edge of the mattress. The distance between them seems too far, a wide yawning chasm that neither is sure how to brace. Mickey clears his throat, places a hand almost protectively over his crotch, seemingly embarrassed about his presumption, and hands Ian his juice.

“Figured beer would be the last thing you need.”

“Yeah, probably right.”

Ian’s leg begins shaking up and down and he worries at a hangnail on his thumb.

“I don’t know how that shit happened earlier but I think I’m in love with you and you’re really fucking hot.”

He blurts suddenly and Mickey chokes on his drink, sending bright droplets across the room and dribbling the remainder down his chin.

“Damn! You just wanted to put that out there, huh?”

“Sorry.”

Ian ducks his head abashed as Mickey wipes his face on his sleeve, grinning.

“Nah, it’s cool. You look pretty good yourself, Freckles.”

“Yeah?”

Ian glances up, giving Mickey a one-sided smile, creating a dimple in his cheek that Mickey feels an almost overwhelming urge to kiss. He can feel the bond between them flexing as Ian’s happiness peaks again, a warm nudge against Mickey’s mind.

“Yeah.”

Mickey sits forward and lets his hand trail the length of Ian’s thigh, paying close attention the rhythm of Ian’s breathing and stopping his exploration when he hears it hitch.

“You OK?”

“Yeah … yeah just … relaxing.”

“Sure. Well go ahead and relax, Firecrotch. I got you.”

Mickey’s confidence is growing and he can feel Ian’s emotions stabilising as he touches him. Mickey has been told many times that he is a damn good lay, but no one has ever actually relaxed just from his touch before. It is a novel change from using his hands to do violence or tear off clothes before frantic coupling and he takes his time with Ian, gentling him as he travels his body.

“Is your last name Milkovich?”

“Mmhhmm.”

Mickey hums response as he scoots closer to Ian, ducking his head to place a kiss against his collar bone.

“Mine is ‘Gallagher’.”

“Good to meet you, Gallagher.”

Mickey carefully unbuttons Ian’s jeans and shoves his hands inside, grasping the hot, hard length of him tightly and running his thumb over the slit.

“I can’t wait to have you inside me, gonna ride that dick so fuckin’ good.”

Mickey licks his lip impatiently when Ian doesn’t immediately respond. He’s never fucked on a bed before and never done it with a guy this hot. He feels a little overwhelmed and so reverts to the sort of thing he normally says to speed things along and get him what he needs. Ian bucks his hips desperately but then grunts and stills Mickey’s hand with one of his own.

“What is it? You don’t wanna fuck me or something?”

Mickey’s voice is slightly strangled and his fingers twitch in Ian’s grasp making the younger man smile.

“I haven’t … I don’t … Can I at least touch you first?”

The question makes Mickey’s cock twitch in anticipation and he nods curtly.

“Course you can touch me! Knock yourself out, man.”

Ian’s hand hovers uncertainly for a split second and then plunges into Mickey’s hair, carding through it to cup the back of his head as he comes up to straddle Mickey’s thighs. The kiss Ian places on Mickey’s lips is fierce, all clashing teeth and thrusting tongues and Mickey can’t help the desires that he projects across to Ian, the urge to be treated roughly, the ache of wanting something hard and fast and furious, the desperation to be understood. It is the opposite of what a Guide should encourage his Sentinel towards and Mickey feels a twinge of guilt. Ian feels it too and pulls back to look down at Mickey.

“Let me take care of you.”

“Ain’t I supposed to do that shit for you?”

“Who gives a shit what we’re supposed to do?”

Ian smiles, kissing Mickey again and deftly opening the buttons on his shirt fastening first his lips and then his teeth around one dark nipple, a soft moan escaping as he feels the tiny bud of flesh harden and the sharp hiss of Mickey’s breath as Ian releases him.

Ian begins undressing Mickey, swift practical motions that calm Mickey’s skittering nerves. Once Ian has him down to his boxers, he glances uncertainly toward the door. Ian follows his gaze and immediately stands, crosses the room and closes it, flipping the flimsy lock Mickey has attached to it into place. He understands, maybe not everything but enough to know that Mickey clearly values his privacy.

“Just you and me.”

He smirks, tugging his tank off, and turning in a slow circle, arms held slightly away from his body.

“This okay for you?”

Mickey nods, not trusting his voice. His eyes are wide and staring and he isn’t entirely sure that he is awake but if this is a dream, it is quickly becoming the best dream he has ever had and he is in no hurry for it to end.

“You a military man?”

Mickey nods to the tattoo on Ian’s side and Ian grins almost bashfully

“It’s a long story but kind of … yeah. Army.”

Ian cocks his head to the side, watching him keenly and Mickey feels a surge of confidence pulse out from the redhead into the room. He nods again and it is all the permission Ian needs.

He pulls Mickey to his feet, steadying him with firm hands on his shoulders and looks down at him intently

“You gonna kiss me or just fuckin’...”

Ian shuts him up with a kiss and they smile into each others mouths, hands trailing each others bodies. Ian moves ones hand and pinches Mickey’s nipple, softly and then harder, pulling the shorter man up onto his toes, a flush of pleasure creeping over his cheeks as Ian twists him lightly, just enough to see the pulse in Mickey’s neck jump. His other hand tightens on the firm shoulder in his grip, pressing his thumb hard into the collarbone, his fingers leaving bright white outlines on the already pale skin.

Mickey shivers, the room is cold and his skin is too sensitive, he shifts on the balls of his feet, not sue whether Ian means to let him rest back onto his heels or not.

“Get into bed.”

Mickey snorts, he barely knows Gallagher but the guy says it as if they’ve been sharing Mickey’s bed for years, as if he belongs there, as if he is as much a part of the room as the cracked ceiling and patchy carpet.

He has no idea how Ian manages to burn even in the cold of the room but as Mickey scooches over in the narrow bed and Ian folds around him, the heat from Ian’s body makes him curl involuntarily into him, pressing his forehead against the toned muscle of Ian’s chest.

He feels fingers trail down his back, the tips blunt and strong as they curl around Mickey’s ass, kneading one of his cheeks lightly, then squeezing more firmly.

“You have a really great ass.”

Mickey allows his own hand to travel down to grope the round swell of Ian’s behind and he grins.

“You too, Army.”

“You like nicknames, huh?”

Ian begins kissing down Mickey’s temple, his jaw, his neck. He shuffles down the bed, not worrying about the sudden chill as his legs left the shelter of the quilt.

“Got a problem with that?”

Mickey peers down the length of the bed, a tiny smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Would it matter if I did?”

“Not really.”

“Well then quit fucking staring at me and spread ‘em.”

Ian bites Mickey’s calf firmly and Mickey tips his head back, grinning up at the ceiling, his eyes closed. He didn’t think a bed could make much difference, and by anyones standards his bed is uncomfortable. He usually sleeps on top of the quilt, wrapped in a hoody or his coat rather than try and sleep with springs poking him in the back but even with his shitty mattress, being in bed with Ian is so fucking liberating he almost wants to laugh with the joy of it.

He thinks of his father, what Terry would say if he knew. It is a recurring thought that comes to Mickey at some point during every encounter he has ever had with another man. Usually Mickey grits his teeth, closes his eyes and, if things are far enough along, thrusts himself back until pain and pleasure finally mingle and he cums over his clenched fist, already tugging his pants up with his free hand.

However with Ian between his legs, kissing the inside of his thigh and gripping his hips tightly, Mickey can barely see Terry’’s face. It is blurred and faint, like he is viewing it through smeared glass and the shame he feels is muted too.

Ian’s tongue slips between his cheeks and Mickey wraps his hand in Ian’s hair with a sharp curse.

“Jesus, Gallagher!”

Mickey’s dick is so swollen he is worried he is about to cum all over himself but Ian seems to know his body as well as he knows everything else and he shimmies back up the bed, looking at Mickey as if he is the best thing he has ever seen.

“Got lube?”

Mickey nods and leans over the edge of the bed, rooting through the junk under his bed until he comes up with a small bottle, the label scratched off just in case.

“Here I … Ian?”

Ian’s face is stony, his eyes fixed on the wall somewhere over Mickey’s shoulder as he kneels rigidly on the bed.

“Ian?”

Mickey drops the lube on the mattress between them and gently grips the back of Ian’s head.

“Hey. Hey it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Someone’s been stabbed.”

“It’s Southside, man. Of course someone’s been stabbed.”

“I don’t … I can’t see them...”

Mickey bites back a curse and looks around for his boxers which are no where to be seen. Mickey bites his lip, squares his shoulders and kneels up in front of Ian, shifting his grip in the red hair to a more certain one and locking eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about this right now. Let it go, man.”

Mickey can feel the instant Ian's sight starts to come back under his control.

"That’s it, you got it"

He coaxes, as Ian draws toward Mickey’s touch, the anxious fear within him easing as he melts forward, sinking his face to Mickey's shoulder and breathing in the scent of him.

“I got you.”

Mickey strokes Ian’s hair and kisses his temple as light tremors flash through the younger man’s body. There is a sudden rush of thinking awareness in the bond between them, Ian's emotions spike, twist, flutter and then … there is stillness.

“I’m sorry.”

Ian murmurs, swallowing heavily.

“Don’t worry about it, man.”

Mickey shrugs and continues smoothing Ian’s hair, his free hand tugging the quilt up around their shoulders, shrouding them from the outside world.

“You think I’m crazy? A Sentinel too fucked up to know where to look.”

“Nah. You’re … well you’re whatever the fuck you are, same as anyone else.”

“You are definitely my Guide.”

Ian smiles and nods to himself, the question is gone and certainty sits proudly in it’s place.

“You think?”

Mickey rubs a finger under his nose and Ian nods firmly

“Yeah. It’s … I can’t explain it but everything about you, even the way you smell… you’re the one.”

Ian closes his eyes so he doesn’t see the hope and the shock that flit across Mickey’s face.

“Lay down, Gallagher. You look beat.”

Ian frowns and cups a hand around Mickey’s balls

“But don’t you want …?”

Mickey kisses him by way of answer and then pulls back, gently patting Ian’s face and easing them both down onto the bed,

“You gonna run out on me in the morning?”

“No!”

“Then we got all the time in the world.”

Their limbs entwine and Ian speads the blanket over them, tucking it securely around Mickey’s broad back, another first for the brunette.

“I haven’t even said thank you. For rescuing me.”

Ian blinks bleerily and the flush of warmth that spreads through Mickey’s chest feels strange and a little uncomfortable but not unpleasant.

“Shut the fuck up, Gallagher.”

“You say that a lot.”

“You talk a lot.”

Mickey sees Ian’s eyes crinkle at the edges as his lips soften and curve into a small smile that is entirely fore Mickey.

“Better get used to it, Mick.”

As Mickey shuts off the lamp, there is not a word from either of their lips but they both drift into an easier sleep than either has had in a long time and it truly is the start of something beautiful.

#gge2017 #shameless #Shameless US #sentinel #AU #Ian Gallagher #mickey milkovich #milkovich #fanfiction #shameless fanfiction #Sentinel/Guide AU

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