#they never have any respect or care or understanding of my chronic health struggles.

[gaberoothekangaroo]

apparently the sibling might have hypothyroidism as well. they discovered it while at urgent care and then at the er trying to figure out what was happening. theyve got a heart murmur

[dxmedstudent]

All of this.

Now, I've always been Team "as a whole, medicine should be diverse like the population it serves".

That comes with accepting that we are diverse and have our own strengths and weaknesses. Some of us are introverts. Some of us are neurodivergent. Some of us experience sensory overload. Some of us experience burnout. Some have PMS. Some have disabilities or chronic illnesses whose symptoms we regularly have to deal with. We are, fundamentally, beings who also have bad days - no less frequently than anyone else. Probably more frequently, given the subject matter we deal with.

We lose a pet or a family member, and a few days later we're back on the job dealing with something that can be triggering to a newly bereaved person. I was working in geriatrics when my last living grandparent died. You have to go back and do the very best you can for others. And sonetimes helping people was what made life worth it in the most difficult times - for many of us it genuinely makes us happy.

I'm often shocked when people outside medicine will on one hand complain that medicine is a toxic place for those of us who are different (very true) abd say they need more diverse clinicuans (also true)...whilst then also essentially saying "but I personally expect doctors to be perfect human beings 24/7 and there has to be some way to force them to be perfect 24/7" because they have very understandable frustrations with the system or their own care and hope that somehow making clinicians superhuman would fix that. It won't, and I can respect their frustration whilst finding the lack of empathy mildly ironic.

I saw one person on tumblr advocate that all clinicians should have mandatory regular psychiatric evaluation and forcibly removed from the workforce if they show any signs of burnout. As if this wasn't an incredibly ableist thing to advocate for that would have extreme repercussions if applied to any population. How would that even work? Where are you going to get replacements? Who will monitor the therapists and psychiatrists whose fill time job it will be to monitor everyone else? What do we do with all the extremely stressed people who have been forced to take sick leave, and how do we improve their mental health? Why not work on improving the conditions that make people burn out instead?

People's frustrations are valid, but sometimes the expectations or suggestions that come along with that are just not realistic. If you wabt to improve medicine, it helps to listen to those in medicine who can tell you what kind of support we may actually need to make the system better.

We, as a wider society, have to accept the uncomfortable fact that we are all human. We as clinicuans are fallible - just like everyone else. We need to accept that reality and work on making healthcare better despite the workforce being human beings who have their own lives and difficulties.

Learning how to make smalltalk is a tool to help your brain to give patients the best experience you can, when you as a person are having a truly shit time or struggle with those kinds of interactions. And we are all earning. The best clinicians never stop learning how to do better for their patients. Everyone can learn to communicate better and to support others better. Even those who are already good at it.

Not only that, but I would like to remind people that it is patently hard to offer the ideal experience to everyone because person A's best doctor is very different to person B's or person C's best doctor.

Even basic small talk is not "common sense" because depending on our own personality and cultural context, we will have learned different things as the most polite or friendly way to navigate the world.

Not only that, but we also experience other people's behaviour slightly differently through the context of our own mood and emotions. What I see as rude may not be identical to what you think it is. What I think of as friendly or over-friendly or standoffish my be very different to what you perceive as those things.

My patients who ask me to "tell it to me straight doc, I don't want no BS" want a very different experience to the patients who need reassurance, and the skill is in working out what each person needs to feel listened to and treated well.

I'm in family medicine/general practice. We have a whole branch of theory that deals with improving the medical consultation, exploring how a consultation should play out so that patients have a good experience and you get the information you need to help them, within a short time. Because stretching out the consultation can often feel frustrating to the patient and is simply not something the clinician can afford (they have other patients waiting angrily due to the delay).

There's so much to be said about making sure patients consistently get good care, ensuring they are listened to. So many people justifiably complain that they have received bad care or care that has left them with negative experiences, especially when systems are under pressure and mistakes happen. We experience this too, when we and our loved ones are patients. We want the system to be better, too.

Ensuring clinicians get appropriate training on professional behaviour and giving them tools for communication is part of reducing those kinds of experiences. You can't have good clinicians who give you a good experience if you ridicule the steps they take to try to give you a better experience and write off everyone who isn't already perfect in your eyes.

Because people are not naturally good at that. We just aren't - it's not inherent, it's behaviour we all learn as we navigate the world. Nobody is born with the inherent knowledge of how to respond most appropriately to a particular person when a particular person is hurting in complicated ways. That doesn't mean we don't have empathy. But empathy by itself doesn't stop us from saying something that isn't helpful or us hurtful if we aren't careful.

And, I could add that we really don't need to be stigmatising people who struggle to have or express empathy, but that's a discussion for another day.

(Full disclosure: slightly edited because I hit reblog a minute too soon)

Regarding the post about smalltalk in nursing and the dipshit reblogging it with “hurr durr medical professionals can’t have much empathy if they need a manual on smalltalk”, I just wanted to add that smalltalk, and communication in general, in a clinical setting is so different from the kind of talking you normally do. First of all, as a medical professional you meet people at their most vulnerable. Very often you’ll know details of their medical history and previous traumatic experience that they wouldn’t share with a stranger in any other context. Very often they’ll take the fact that you’re a medical professional as permission to talk about things they haven’t shared with anyone else. Very often you’ll see them naked, scared, angry, grieving. Often you’re the one giving them bad news when they’re already scared. Quite often you walk into someone’s room knowing that they’re going through hell, that they’re not going to get better, that a good number of the standard polite phrases you use when interacting with people in public are simply inadequate to the situation. How can you wish someone a good day when they’re dying of cancer, or when they’re in constant pain? Do you really think that’s going to be a good day for them.

So communication training in medical school (and presumably nursing school) aims to increase awareness of what words and phrases you use, how body language affects your message, how the sentence that’s just a filler phrase for you can undermine a patient’s confidence in the treatment they’re getting, how easily misunderstandings can happen when you simply rely on the kind of everyday, imprecise, communication you’re used to. And it aims to give you a toolkit for acknowledging someone’s pain in a way that communicates respect and empathy, for checking for misunderstandings and clearing them up, and for making patients feel seen and heard even on the days when you’re on a tight schedule and someone’s dying in the next room.

[sunnisurrealism]

Hi everyone I just want to give an update on my well-being. Today I realized I didn’t send in a consent form to BC Pharmacare and that’s why my coverage wasn’t working, but I called, they told me what to do, and I found the form. This is good because my psychiatrist said i their was an error. So now there shouldn’t be any issues with me obtaining Person With Disability Status and the following monthly stipend and health care benefits.

I am coming to boundless realizations and I am going through a rage mode. I am quite sure I have severe adhd but I have not been assessed. Every single day is an immense struggle of being organized. I have a billion thoughts that I cannot simply get out without feeling like I have to write a whole series of books. Thus, my state is endless restlessness. I feel like Paul, but I know I’m not alone in my destiny like he kinda is. Don’t worry I’ll delete this later. Im not genuinely pissed at anyone in particular, for that would be pointless. I understand that my secret fans know I am a kind person at heart. Quite deeply. Sometimes I need to vent. It’s just that, I can’t afford to not express myself in fear of upsetting my secret fan(s) you Timothée because they cannot help me. Once I have more money and not chronic financial insecurity I won’t be constantly so on edge. I wish my adhd didn’t get in the way so much, and I wish I could go on meds for it but I can’t cuz I’m bipolar. Please never expect anything from me except mail on our birthdays. I cannot stand the pressure and it greatly impedes on my ability to function, which make it no point. I’m not pissed at you Timmy at all you are literally a baby Angel boi. I’m sad MB stopped replying but I’m assuming it was to protect me against my own manic uncontrollable thoughts and tendencies. I respect trust and understand. I’m mostly pissed I have no schedule in my life, which I will work on once I get back from my next trip to Victoria job I see the psychiatrist again. I’m pissed my life is neverending chasing appointments and the beaurocratic system of the government. I often wish I had my own personal assistant to help me because I am so so so overwhelmed I just end up ruminating my life away and failing to eat.

I know the real core of my issue, which is quite obviously, desperation for contact with My Dearest Love Felix. I constantly feel like I’m drowning in an ocean of jaded confusion without him. I’m annoyed when he doesn’t show up in my dreams when I’ve tried. I’m so god damn annoyed that I don’t know the real him and contextually speaking what his sexuality is like. I don’t know if there is hurt feelings or guilt but from that Coldplay song I assumed there was. I am really sorry, but also know I haven’t done anything wrong. it’s painful beyond comprehension in my little brain not knowing what in him is happening. I know though that he conceptually understand that he needs to be my rock, even from afar. Because my disillusionment levels are higher due to not knowing him and im not PR trained to become famous. This sounds so savage but I really really really need him to be stronger than me. At least in this way this story is gender normy. I definitely have a savior complex with him, although during May I saw myself as his Angel savior because he had been waiting so long. Sometimes Chani comforts Paul and Paul Chani. 🧜🏻‍♂️

The more that my secret fans help to accelerate collective transcendence in the name of social surrealist level global compassion IMMEDIATELY STARTING NOW. I don’t think all of us are taking this seriously enough… The more they lift the burden off me in the future. I know this sounds self-centered, but I am fully committed to the biggest dream theoretically possible on earth which if overcoming all systems of oppression. Not only because of the potential rewards, but also because it is what my heart genuinely wants to do when I become famous. Lots of hella people already align with this dream for humanity, I would say everyone actually. But we have to take it so so so much further if we are to address the climate change and i sustainability problem. And it also is the secret key to the mating crisis because emotional intelligence characteristics are evolutionarily advantageous 🌺this path of humanity expanding empathy is extremely obvious, it has always has been and forever will be. Those who don’t align just have broken hearts, which is another reason for the acceleration of compassion. The way thru is not going to change. It’s just the story of humanity.

I do not understand what is happening in the empathetic telepathy / quantum entanglement thing, but it was never going to always be good. At least it’s interesting 🍿

[merlions]

Just for personal catharsis; there's hella untagged triggers in here so proceed carefully if you wish but I advise against it. I'm not fully gonna demand DONT READ cause I know I'm posting this on a public website but like I'm gonna suggest it

I am being so mad at myself for the ways i am being lately but check out this list of Factors with which I am currently Contending

> watching a show after dinner every night with my parents about rape culture during which an actual rape is depicted in a very similar way to what I have experienced many times and never really gotten any good mental health care for

> talking about that show w them as we watch and i realize my dad's forgotten that ive been raped or assaulted several times and doesnt realize how that may affect me and my views on the show and not being sure how to tell him and not wanting to have to do so just as a way to win an argument which is how i even did it the first time

> my [friend and roommate] [t'hy'la] [wife] is currently in our previous apartment with her family finishing cleaning it up and moving us out, and the last time I was there it was spending 2 weeks alone losing my mind while packing to move since my roommate had just been discharged from the hospital and we had gone our separate ways to heal and recover at our respective parents' houses and i was waiting for my dad to come so we could road trip back to my parents house

> continuous reminders of the trauma of seeing her in that hospital bed, incoherent, sweating, unconscious, of her not knowing between reality and hallucination, of knowing she genuinely almost died

> (side note this trauma was sufficient to make a large chunk of my hair fall out and to develop a specific type of eczema on my hands that my mom got when she was going through the stress of her father dying and I have barely even begun to process it)

> the first time she and i have ever been apart for more than 10 days in more than 7 years actually also and it's now been over 4 months

> doing therapy and having to relive every sexual assault, every bad thing I've done or has happened to me and try to come to terms with it

> parents on a starvation diet and im skipping meals, struggling to maintain my veneer of resisting my eating disorder spawned by chronic pain and nausea

> chronic illness flares goin roughhhh

> struggling to get my meds as per fuckin usual lately

> keep getting accidentally dosed w allium in like every meal and it's wreaking havoc on my shitty bod

> sleep schedule becoming the very most fuckening and getting 2-4 hrs of sleep per night interspersed w nights of 10+ hrs that fuck my sleep schedule worse

> some strange and awful mast cell garbage afflicting me

I mean there's more too. Like there's a lot, a LOT of good going on as well but like I can understand why I am functioning less than optimally and I should probably try a little harder to be kind to myself about it

[peppermintbee]

OMORI’s poor writing (Part 2)

Once again, if you are a big fan of OMORI, this review is not for you. Treasure this game, love it, recommend it, make fan art, buy the merch, do what you will with it. I am not here to take OMORI away from anyone. Based on the overwhelmingly positive reviews on Steam, I know that my opinion is in the minority.

However, just as the fans have the right to praise the game, I have the right to examine it, criticize it, and explain why it failed to provide a compelling experience. This is second part of my review where I will tackle OMORI’s problematic themes and disrespectful appropriation of mental health.

[ See Part 1: Plot Writing Lies ]

(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)

Spoilers and criticism below.

Part 2: OMORI’s message is mishandled and distasteful

OMORI provides a warning that it depicts scenes of depression, anxiety, and suicide. Because the game includes these scenes, I assumed these mental health issues are presented in a way that is meaningful and respectful.

However, that is not the case. 

Despite having depictions of such, this game is not really about depression, anxiety, or even suicide. It’s about committing a horrible crime, lying about it, and getting over the guilt.

1. Suicide as a game mechanic

Suicidal thoughts are intrusive, terrifying, and painful. As well as ending the victim's life, suicide wreaks havoc on the lives of those who once knew them. It is often a taboo topic, but discussing such matters is an important step to understanding and preventing it. Video games are a medium well suited to approaching such dark topics.

Unfortunately, OMORI does not handle the topic of suicide well at all.

First, suicide is written as a unavoidable game mechanic that seems to have been included for shallow reasons such as aesthetic and shock value. To leave Sunny’s headspace and wake up, you--as a player--must direct him to stab himself in the stomach. 

But why? It’s not like waking up involves some sort of major sacrifice. In fact, waking up is something that is more or less unavoidable. Reality should be something that snatches Sunny away from his headspace against his will, perhaps as an encroaching darkness that Sunny can run from, but never truly escape. But instead, facing reality is something you are forced to opt into in the most needlessly violent way possible.

Forcing you--as a player--to literally commit suicide just to wake up from a dream is a pointless, distasteful, and disrespectful action that sets a precedent for suicide not being taken seriously in this game. (And it isn’t.)

In the black space, Omori is pressured to kill a cat. In that scene, regardless of your choice, you are forced to kill yourself. However, the act of stabbing yourself has been seen so many times at that point that it has completely lost any impact. Who cares about suicide when it’s been reduced to just a means of travel?

Lastly, if you fail to defeat the final boss, Sunny commits suicide in the real world. However, this is not a cutscene, it is once again something that you--as a player--are forced to do to progress. Putting these actions in the hands of a player is not as meaningful as the writer seems to believe, because there are no other options to progress. Any weight in making that decision is lost to resignation; a frustrated sigh of “Well, okay, fine. I guess I have to click Z here.” You are then rewarded with a SLAPPING pop song and a psychedelic cutscene of Sunny falling to his death. It’s tasteless to its core and appropriates the deaths of every suicidal person as a quirky, shallow “bad end.”

(Seriously, this is how the writer decided to depict a child taking his own life.)

2. Sunny/Omori is a poor presentation of depression

Sunny/Omori does not smile. Even in past photographs before The Incident, he still is not smiling. The contrast between Sunny and his friends stands out like a sore thumb, so I assumed this was the writer’s attempt to show that Sunny is dealing with depression, where he can’t be happy even in happy situations.

Of course, if that were the case it would be inaccurate since depressed people do smile and do hide their true feelings. They are often dismissed with, “You can’t be depressed, I saw you smiling once.” However, I was willing to let Sunny’s chronic frown slide because sometimes you have to oversimplify an idea to get your point across.

Much to my surprise, there is NO evidence of Sunny having depression before The Incident and there is very little indication of him having depression throughout the game either. The evidence of this is that while looking at a family portrait, Sunny comments that he's never liked to smile. Since he's a a baby in this portrait, this goes to show that his not smiling is simply a preference -- a quirky character trait that makes him stand out so that you feel an emotion during the true ending when he finally smiles. 

Everything in the game seems to point to him being pretty happy and well adjusted up until he killed Mari. Then, even after he killed Mari, he pretty much looks and behaves the same way. Wouldn’t it be more jarring and tragic if you saw Sunny was happy in the past, but depressed now?

Which leads me to my next point...

3. Sunny and Basil are not depressed, they’re guilty (and for good reason)

In the book I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t), Brené Brown explains the difference between feeling guilt and shame.

Guilt means: “I did something bad.” Shame means: “I am something bad.”

Guilt, when attributed to bad behavior, is actually a healthy emotion. It means that you have a sense of right and wrong, that you empathize with those you’ve hurt, and it motivates you to make things right.

Shame is an unhealthy emotion. It arrests growth, destroys self-esteem, causes poor decision making, isolates you from your loved ones, and is directly correlated with anxiety and depression.

OMORI should be a game about overcoming shame. All the right set pieces are there. Sunny’s walled himself off, his sister (allegedly) committed suicide, and he seems to be struggling with lifelong depression. However, this all falls apart, when it’s revealed that he killed his sister and staged her death as a suicide to escape blame (with Basil’s help). He DID do something bad. It’s not shame, it’s literally guilt.

All at once, OMORI stops being a game about recovering from grief and depression and becomes a game that demands the player to sympathize with a killer and liar who is hiding from his crimes. Because he and Basil feel bad about what they did, Sunny and Basil are presented as greater victims than their actual victim.

4. OMORI asks you empathize with villains (with ZERO self awareness)

Games where you are playing a character with a guilty conscience has been told before, but where OMORI really fails is that Sunny is not truly held accountable for what he did to others. Instead, the game focuses on HIS pain: since killing his sister he’s been isolated, he’s having nightmares, and he’s suicidal. 

The plot of the game is focused on helping Sunny forgive himself for ruining other people’s lives. The writing barely acknowledges how his friends/family feel about what he did. When his victims’ pain IS addressed, it’s either used to further victimize Sunny (ie: isn’t it sad for him that he made his friends so sad?) or it’s used to reassure the player that Sunny’s victims have forgiven him (or will forgive him). 

In fact, the game holds Mari responsible for her own death, citing that her "perfectionism" must have been what pushed Sunny to attack her. OMORI presents Mari, through headspace, as someone who accepted death gracefully and wants Sunny to live a happy life. She is never given her own voice and nothing in the game suggests she is capable of feeling bitter over her death and postmortem desecration. She plays the role of the Madonna archetype--and the perfect victim--allowing the player to empathize entirely with Sunny while accepting that Mari brought everything on herself.

[Mari suggesting that Sunny acting out his aggression on her was her fault.]

The climax of this game is NOT Sunny telling the truth to his friends. The climax is Sunny defeating his guilt and forgiving himself. We know this because the story does not even show how his friends respond to his confession, because-- once again-- what’s most important thing is resolving Sunny’s pain, not the pain he has caused others. (Though the game does heavily imply that his friends will forgive him.)

[Pictured: the boys shedding their guilt is the true happy ending ]

Imagine, for a moment, if this game was about an abuser, who caused immense pain to someone and got away with it. Then, the whole game was about how they felt bad for the abuse they caused, and-- as a player-- you help them forgive THEMSELF for their past abuse. Then, in the last few seconds of the game, they either apologize to their victim or kill themself. The victim’s response is not shown because it is not important.

This is the plot of OMORI, except with a bunch of excuses thrown on top to make it more palatable. Sunny and Basil are just soooo cute and sad. Killing Mari was an accident. Stringing her body up like a piñata was a juvenile mistake. The boys feel SO BAD that they want to kill themselves. And because suicide is so tragic, you-- as an audience-- are manipulated into empathizing them.

5. In OMORI, suicide is used as a cheap ploy for sympathy

As I mentioned before, suicide is horrible and tragic. People struggling with suicidal ideation need help, support, and respect. That said, let’s make one thing clear: being suicidal does not automatically make someone a good person. There are plenty of examples of criminals who kill themselves to escape the penalty or guilt for something they did. It is so common in the news that I don’t think I have to list out examples.

In bad endings, Sunny and Basil’s suicides are 100% motivated by guilt for their very real crimes. Now, it should be stated, Sunny and Basil do not deserve to die. And because suicide is such an extreme, permanent end for those two boys, we-- as players-- are invested in preventing that tragic end at all costs.

However, the looming threat of suicide is used as leverage to force the audience to dismiss the severity of what Sunny and Basil did. As I’ve said before, the plot of the game is about soothing and alleviating Sunny’s guilt and stopping him from killing himself as opposed to making things right. 

The worst thing is, this tactic actually works. The threat of suicide is so strong, it has distracted many players from the truth that this story is about sympathizing with a boy who has killed his sister, with little regard for those his actions have affected (see point #4).

It’s terrible because suicide is such a serious topic worthy of discussion, but when used as little more than pity-bait, it twists your perception of what the characters did and silences those who try to criticize how this game handles such topics.

6. Mari's suicide being fake is a terrible twist

Lastly, by revealing Mari’s “suicide” as an accidental death, OMORI misses an opportunity to tell a much more powerful story. In the first half of this game, when Mari is thought to have committed suicide at the young age of 15, is a sobering moment. That tragedy is something very real.

If Mari had killed herself as opposed to being killed, Sunny isolating himself after his sister takes her own life is realistic. Mari’s death coming as a surprise is also realistic; how often have we heard people saying that they never knew someone was suffering? That they seemed like such a happy person?

Losing a loved one to suicide does not just cause horrible grief, but crippling shame as well. Those left behind will blame themselves, tormented by thoughts of how they could have saved them, how they would do anything to get them back. That shame can follow you forever, haunting you like a ghost, threatening you with the same fate. Overcoming that grief and shame is no simple task, and I truly thought OMORI was going to be about grappling with grief and letting go of survivor guilt.

Instead, Mari didn’t commit suicide, her life was cut short by her brother. Then, her body was staged as a suicide, forever changing how her family and friends perceived her. Her hanging body did not represent a devastating loss of life and horror of teen depression, but instead is a cheap twist that represents Sunny’s guilt for killing her and tampering with her corpse.

Conclusion:

As I’ve mentioned before OMORI has a lot of potential. The set pieces of a depressed kid who escapes to a dream world to cope with his unresolved trauma is one that had the makings to be very meaningful. However, it fumbles these issues, creating a sloppy plot that results in a problematic message. It’s baffling that this even happened, especially considering the length of time this was in development.

[thatsaltydiabetic]

Religious Trauma and Chronic Illness

As someone with a chronic illness that very much impacts every single day of my life I want to talk about religious trauma and the ways that people have brought their faith into my health and condition that makes me… frankly uncomfortable. 

I have type 1 diabetes, completely insulin dependent, for over a decade now. No end in sight. I was just a kid when I was diagnosed, 6 years old, in kindergarten. It's safe to say that this is basically all I've ever known in life. But I think that most people with a chronic condition will find that they relate to this, or have experienced something similar, no matter what it is you have. 

Ever since I was diagnosed I have been hearing things along the lines of “God wouldn’t give you something you couldn’t handle” or “God only did this to you because he knew you were strong and could handle it” or what is probably the worst, “God is testing you”. And no matter how many times I hear it, it always feels like a direct slap to the face. It stings. 

I was raised catholic, live in a quite religious area.finding someone here thats not religious is very hard. I personally do not believe in any higher power myself, and this is not limited to christianity in particular, but that's what I am most familiar with, so it is what I am referencing in this post.

Those things that I've been hearing all my life, they were said to me or my family in a twisted way of trying to bring comfort, but it never brought me any, and subsequently made me deal with a lot of crappy feelings a young kid and teen that really seriously messed with my mind. 

I thought I had done something wrong my whole life, that this was my fault and that I deserved it. God doesn’t make mistakes, he doesn’t punish people that are good. If I had just been better, then I wouldn’t be suffering, it was my fault, is all I heard. That I needed to be tried by God so he could make sure I was worthy of life, that I needed to prove myself more than others did for some reason. 

I tried to pray to god constantly, asking for him to help me, or forgive me, fix me please, because I was sorry for whatever I did, I promised to dedicate my life to him if he just, took this disease away from me. I wasn’t even ten years old when this happened. I couldn’t comprehend any of that, I just heard people imply that God was doing this to me for a reason, so if I could somehow fix it with him, I could get better. I grew resentment later on for God because I didn’t know what I did wrong, how could he punish me for something I wasn’t even aware I did?

I was six when I was diagnosed. Looking back this thinking was irrational because what could a TODDLER do so wrong to be cursed for the rest of their life? It hurt me as a kid because I was taught that God was good, and that he didn’t make mistakes, and that he was above all. And somehow he let this happen to me, which means it must have been my fault. I was young, and dumb, of course I would think this when every single person told me that god was testing me, putting me through a challenge, like this wasn’t my entire life that went completely off course in the span of a week. 

People still say this to me, over ten years later. And I no longer believe in God. I just wish I could understand why these people truly think that I need to be tested more than others, and holding onto that, why others have it even worse than me. Why would any divine god that supposedly cares for everyone feel the need to make certain people's lives harder than others for no reason. 

It took years of undoing that thinking in my brain, that I did something wrong and this was just divine punishment for it. I grew to realize it was almost more of a comfort to the person saying these things than it was an attempt to comfort me about my struggles. They don’t like to think about the chance that their beloved God would allow something bad to happen to people without good reason. They had to reassure something within themselves too, that it wasn’t a mistake by their creator but happening because of some divine will. 

And I have no problem with people being religious, I don’t. But as soon as you bring it into my life and try to write away my suffering by saying that God is testing me, a god that I don’t even believe in, I have lost my respect for you. I had a friend ask one time when I was in the hospital for DKA if it was ok to pray for me. And of course I said yes, because that actually means a lot to me, that you want to ask the being you believe to be divine to help me, even if I don’t believe it too. It’s very respectful and I don’t mind when people say things like “I’m keeping you in my prayers”. But do not imply to me that YOUR God is doing this to me for a divine reason. 

The truth is that I cannot pray this away, nobody can. This has nothing to do with your faith, and I do not want to hear that stuff. I don’t care. It is not comforting and is frankly disrespectful to imply such things especially when you have no idea what my faith is, or if I even have one. Chronic illnesses are not the work of God, this is medicine, leave religion out of it please. It wasn’t fair that as a child I thought terribly of myself because of my condition, convinced that I was at fault. 

[rpbetter]

I'm so tired of roleplaying with people who don't put half the commitment I do into our threads and muses. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm a weirdo or like I don't belong for that. Any other hobby and people wouldn't care if I took it seriously. Why is roleplaying different? How can I keep going like this if I'm getting rudeness from all sides? I can't even go outside my already tiny bubble and find more partners, because I always see people putting roleplayers like me down and it's exhausting.

"Why is roleplaying different?"

Well, Anon, I know that was a rhetorical question, but I have some thoughts on that. To the surprise of no one!

I strongly believe that this is an issue with how fandom has come to dominate roleplaying. As I've said before, it really wasn't always like that. Of course, you always had canon characters and almost all RPers were invested in a fandom or two. The difference was that online RP was once viewed much more like tabletop RPGs are.

When the RPC became a near-total offshoot of Fandom, a lot of shit changed and very rapidly...and within Fandom, a lot of shit was changing very rapidly as well at that time.

RP has always been something looked down on (though, at least no one ever accused written RP online of being literally demonic like they did DnD, or made correlations to murder sprees like they did LARPing, so there's that) as strange, not the good, understandable sort of dorky.

Part of that is almost certainly because of the difference in the way society views writing vs the way it views hobbies like gaming - writing is seen as an intellectual pursuit and a job, gaming, even at its most negative points of view in wider society, has been seen traditionally as a downtime activity only.

But. RP was not looked down upon from within Fandom or in roleplay communities themselves like it is now.

When the whole experience of fandoms themselves became extremely mainstream and open, it welcomed in a ton of shit ideas and behaviors that were not previously prevalent. It changed RP, too, along many of those same lines.

When your hobby is considered objectionably weird by people within the fandoms you love and RP in and that makes you a sort of lowest-tier fan, the viewpoint of RP to RPers becomes something lesser than a valid hobby. When RPers are the same people who engage with Fandom monetarily, anything not monetized is passively consumable content, including RP. And RPers are trying to both deflect shame and struggling with wider society's mixed messages, that now hit them everywhere online as well. Shit like, "you don't have to monetize your hobby, it's okay to just make really good cross stitches of memes for yourself" and "if you're not paying me, you have no control over me."

We seriously do not view RP as a proper hobby anymore, that's why. There are many factors to that, those are just few, but that's the ultimate answer. It's not seen that way because it's not valued in the same way.

I think much of the problem with muns losing their entire shit over anyone else approaching the hobby differently, dare I say...more seriously, is related to a lot of complex psychology about self-esteem, control, and anxiety. So many people here struggle with serious self-worth and confidence issues, and I think to many of them, whether they realize it or not, when they see serious RPers, they feel like that's an inherent judgment and a danger to their own enjoyment. Because RP, as writing, is a skilled hobby - the more you practice it, the more skilled you become with it. Meaning that someone who approaches the writing seriously is going to be at a higher skill level.

Enter the way we're training to think about writing again - when they see someone who is very practiced, skilled, and confident with their writing, the learned idea is that they're somehow superior in a nasty, personal way.

I most certainly do not think that makes it alright, it isn't, and I'm not very tolerant of it.

It's absolutely alright to engage with RP in any way you see fit. If that's extremely casual, it's a minor hobby for you, that's great! I'm so happy you're enjoying yourself, and I mean that in no facetious way. But not when that is the only form of it respected and accepted. It's just as alright to have RP as your primary, serious hobby!

The only way we can all enjoy a hobby with such great variance within it is by respecting each other's variables, not by vilifying them. It's recognizing that, no matter how much you enjoy the mun and/or muse, they're not engaging with the hobby in the way you are, it's not a good fit to write together. (Please, begging y'all to be friends with those who are different, not enemies, shit's sake. You've not got to write together to be friends!) Instead of labeling them and being hateful. Different =/= a threat.

And, to go off a bit lol y'all demonizing serious RPers really don't get that there are some intense tones of ableism and more going on in that narrative of yours, huh?

Not that anyone requires a reason to be serious about any hobby, but when people pick a hobby like RP as their primary one...you should probably have the maturity to consider why that is. Could it be that they focus on a hobby they can do from their homes and that requires low physical involvement, and has a degree of separation from direct socializing, for a reason?

Serious RPers tend to be limited in their ability to pursue other hobbies. Mental and physical health, region, finances, and ability to spend time outside of the home are all very common limits for those who "take RP too seriously/are addicted to RP."

Maybe take five seconds away from your own issues to consider that the person you're shitting on for something so minor as a difference of importance of a hobby might be the full-time caretaker of a special needs child, having to remain home and on a very small income. They might be chronically ill or suffer from agoraphobia. They might live in an area with no hobbies of interest, affordability, or at all...or they might live somewhere that is incredibly dangerous for them.

I honestly do not know where these people have been that they've been aggressed at by serious RPers, but that's usually the excuse. (I'm not saying it has never happened or does not happen, before anyone goes there.) The idea that serious RPers are extreme elitists who are demanding that other muns do what they do, how they do it. That they expect other muns to be online and RPing all the time, that they be "available for entertainment at all times" at the cost of real-life matters. Having the expectation that threads not be dropped constantly or that a writing partner not leave for months with no contact is neither of those things.

In over two decades of RPing across almost every platform type that has existed, I have literally never seen that be either a singular RPer-type problem or one that serious RPers are even more likely to deal in. I've seen the opposite, actually. Which is not a condemnation or a statement that all casual RPers do this, just what my experience has been. And one that actually stands to reason based on the way they view and engage with RP - quick replies, quick entertainment, and very low commitment to threads, muses, or other muns. Of course, it's annoying to them when a more serious RPer is unwilling to do rapid-fire style quick, short threads from an ask with them, but is writing the lengthy replies they already owed instead.

That's probably a factor as well, in here among a plethora of misunderstanding/unawareness of differences - for many serious RPers, it's not easier and more fun to write short, quick threads. So, what a casual RPer is seeing is that they're willing to put all this extraordinary effort into a massive reply to someone else while their easy, fun, quickly done thread is waiting in line.

Misunderstandings and unawareness breed hostility, period. And there is a hell of a lot of those things in the RPC.

What serious RPers are expressing are either boundaries/expectations or frustration. Not a demand that you be around all the time, but an expectation that you leave them alone if you're not also a serious RPer who will be committed to threads and muses. Not hostility and elitism, the frustration that it's already difficult to find muns who will work out before you add in the majority rule of casual RPers.

It's incredibly disheartening, frustrating, and honestly, a bit anxiety-inducing to constantly be the weird one, always have few choices, and to be at risk of being Problematic purely because you take the hobby seriously. You can't vent without someone jumping on your ass to remind you (even if you said numerous times that "real life comes first" and "people can do what they want") that omg, people have lives, people can do what makes them happy, it's just RP.

It's so upsetting when you think you might have found a good writing partner, then, you see a PSA they've reblogged about how it's a "hobby, not a jobby," and "no one owes anyone anything, ever." Excuse me, as that last one is a direct quote, let me redo it so it is verbatim: "no one owes anyone here anything - EVER !!!"

I said I wasn't very tolerant :)

But seriously, exactly what you've expressed is why I'm not...it's another form of controlling others instead of trying your best to control your own experience, and it's often extremely hateful. I'm not tolerant of anything like that, it's no longer supporting preferences at that point. When your preference is the only one that will be tolerated in the community, it's not a preference anymore.

It's something that makes others feel isolated, afraid of harassment, and depressed. It is a hobby and it isn't supposed to make you feel like that!

And, no, absolutely the fuck not lol the "answer" to this isn't that you're taking it too seriously and need to take a break. I'm so tired of seeing that shit tacked onto RPH responses and vents and PSAs. You're not saying that RP is making you feel this way, "just take a break and come back when you agree with everyone else" isn't a solution.

Of course, if you do feel like your time here has become so upsetting? Yeah, obviously, you should try to find some other things to supplement your downtime that make you feel happier again. Engage in some other forms of writing just meant for yourself, or that can be published as fics. Spend some more time on a game you enjoy for a while, or get invested in a new one. Learn to shape bonsai or make no-knead rolls. Whatever would make you happy as a hobby when you're not here.

Other than that, however, well...we're not going to be implying on this blog that you're too serious and need to take a hiatus until you have no emotional investment in your hobby. That's insane. I'd not say it about hiking, martial arts, dog obedience competitions, hobby farming, or painting either.

I wish I could think of some solutions as to where you could look that wasn't like this, but it's definitely the majority of the RPC. It doesn't help that, due to this, serious RPers have a tendency to quietly stick together and not venture out into the RPC. They're just not incredibly easy to find.

I will say that they tend to be:

novella - if you're not here for serious RP and sticking around for a while, you're not going to invest the time and energy into particularly lengthy writing

older RPers - I would say that twenty-five is probably the youngest, with early thirties to late forties being the majority

in fandoms with a large adult base of fans - even if it's a franchise friendly to, or even meant for, younger fans, if it has a particularly active adult fanbase, it's a better chance of finding serious RPers in it

as above, old fandoms - fandoms that have been around for a long time tend to have more serious RPers in them

fandomless OCs - tend to have a higher chance of being written by serious RPers than canons or heavily fandom-involved OCs

RPers who do not do a ton of advertising for their muse(s), but when they do, they don't advertise them based on activism points or trends

slightly more likely to not have an emphasis on highly aesthetic blogs, graphics, icons etc. - they use a modified basic tumblr theme, low on graphics, their aesthetics are not on-trend, for example

anti-content policing/"write what you want" style muns

muns with more extensive rules pages - they plan to be here for a while, they take writing, RP, and their muse(s) seriously, so, it's a bit more important to them to head off problems before they start

those with older characters/FCs - be that literally in age or the character being one that has existed for a long time

"stay in your lane" style muns - if they're opining on fandom or the RPC, they must really be angry about something

those with numerous and detailed headcanons - for example, their response to a HC meme ask like, "what's your muse's favorite ice cream flavor?" is going to be treated seriously, not simply answered with "mint chocolate chip because my bby is gross"

As usual, not a complete or perfect list. I don't fit some of the things on there! It could give you some things to look for when trying to find other serious RPers, though. It's based on observances from someone who was never a casual RPer, even as a minor (me, obviously), and maybe it could at least keep you from continuously running into hostility about your approach to RP.

I've honestly considered making a list of some sort expressly for RPers who are on the more serious end of the spectrum, but...in a RPC back when things were dominated by serious RPers, I did that sort of thing with a RPH I had, and it still got labeled as being a list for and by Elitists. I don't know that anyone would want to put themselves out there for potential harassment on tumblr, you know? It was a joke then, just having a group of RPers label you as an Elitist. Here, you get told to kill yourself, and none of us need more of that shit, right?

Try to hang in there, Anon, I know it's upsetting, and I'm so sorry that something fun has gotten to be like this.

Try to understand that these people are coming from a place of irrational defensiveness, often in response to bullying themselves at some point or feeling bad about themselves. That doesn't make it right, but it does make it easier to not take to heart.

And keep at it! In my experience here, once you find a group of people you fit into, it really is...A Group. Especially among RPers who are ostracized, they stick together, they promote each other, and they're very happy for their mutuals to become your mutuals. Once you find them, it unlocks so many opportunities for the interactions and type of RP you've been missing!

[luna-tiel]

What Entrapdak Means to Me

On the eve of Entrapdak Positivity Month, I thought it was as good a time as any to share my rambling thoughts on a ship that’s affected me in a way I didn’t think was possible. 

Entrapdak is the first ship I have ever been invested in. It’s such a new experience for me that it’s taken me the last few months to wrap my head around the whole thing. I may relate to the characters in a show, but when they form romantic attachments I view it with a degree of passive distance. I don’t understand what it’s like to have those sorts of feelings for someone (I am aromantic and ace as a brick), and, well, I’m honestly not curious enough to give the subject a thorough study. My mind tends to fixate on other things. 

What does this have to do with Entrapdak, you ask? Long story short for people who don’t want to read my meandering essay -- I relate a lot to these characters, and the way they bonded together struck a deep chord in me that I can’t ignore. 

Let’s start with the characters. I knew going in that Entrapta was neurodivergent-coded, but I took it with a grain of salt. When I actually watched the show, however, I found myself relating to her so deeply it shocked me. Never have I felt such a kinship with a fictional character! We don’t share every trait, but it was still like seeing my brain put to life on screen. I related to her enthusiasm over her special interests, her struggles to fit in, her desire to make friends who accept and understand her for who she is. 

The fact Entrapta is completely herself is something I love about her. Over the years of growing up undiagnosed, I developed a lot of masking strategies. Human psychology is one of my special interests, and even with all that accumulated knowledge, masking isn’t easy. It’s extremely mentally taxing. Masking can certainly look easy -- I can, when I have the drive and energy, “pass” as neurotypical, and only people who know me extremely well can tell I’m dying inside. All that effort is taken for granted by a lot of NTs because that’s how people are “supposed to” act, and surely I can “do the bare minimum.” The accumulated stress of near constant masking has led me to the darkest moments I’ve had in my life.

Entrapta’s struggle with leaving Beast Island hit me hard. It threw me back to a time when my feelings of isolation and worthlessness got so bad that I lost the energy to do anything, even the creative pursuits that were the obsession of my life. I retreated so deeply into my inner world that I hardly interacted with anyone. That total apathy shocked my family into getting me professional help, which gave me my autism diagnosis, the coping skills to move forward, and a good start on the road to self-acceptance. It also opened a channel between my family and I, allowing me to feel heard and understood. (An important side note on mental health: if you or someone you love needs professional help, please seek it! Sometimes you have to try out several therapists -- it took me three to find a good fit -- but you are worth it!)

It took me longer to realize, but I also relate to Hordak in some ways. Mercifully I was not raised in an extremist cult environment. However, I know what it’s like to feel defective next to a sibling that seems perfect. I was constantly being compared to my younger brother, and in all areas but art, he was superior. He was smart, athletic, and above all, he fit in with everyone. I didn’t hate him for this -- I hated myself. Trying to measure up to his standard is what caused me to develop such strong masking strategies. Underneath it all, I felt the despair of knowing my peers would reject me as soon as the mask cracked. I also live with chronic joint pain, starting at around age seven. The jury is still out on what’s causing that (the worst of it was due to a previously unknown food allergy, but the pain still comes and goes, even though it’s a lot more manageable than it used to be). This cocktail of pain, stress, and sensory issues I had to deal with gave me a very short fuse at times. 

As an aside, just because I sympathize with Hordak does not mean I am excusing his actions. He is still going to have to face the consequences of his choices, and work to adjust to life post-Prime. The series end gave him a new beginning, the opportunity to be redeemed, and I prefer this to a rushed redemption arc. 

What I love most about Hordak and Entrapta’s relationship is how they accept each other as they are. Hordak gives Entrapta near free reign of his sanctum, he listens to her when she talks, and he respects her opinions. Even when he pushes her away, he still considers the logic of what she tells him, and sometimes ends up doing things her way despite his initial instincts. This is something I do in my own life; I am easily overwhelmed by new information, so my initial response to an idea/activity is almost always a firm (and sometimes rude) “no,” until I have time to properly process and think about it. Hordak is the first person in Entrapta’s life that truly listens to her. He still has things he needs to work on, but it’s a lot better than how most of the princesses are with Entrapta. The Alliance treats her as someone to be managed -- she is useful, but unreliable. Hordak, in contrast, trusts her to get things done in her own way. 

On the other side, Entrapta is the first person in Hordak’s life to accept him without judgment. Hordak spends so much of his energy putting up a front of strength and intimidation, and Entrapta cuts right through that. She’s not frightened by his appearance, and even his outbursts have little effect on her until the two of them start to bond. Entrapta doesn’t come into their interactions with any preconceived ideas of what Hordak is like, or more importantly, what he should be like. This lack of expectation leaves her completely open to accepting whatever Hordak does and says, and it also relieves Hordak of the burden of needing to put on a front around her. When Entrapta sees him at his most vulnerable, she reaches out to him with compassion, something he has never felt before. Entrapta also does this in a way that doesn’t belittle Hordak. His imperfections are not something to pity, they are a valuable part of who he is. 

I loved watching their friendship develop. Entrapta and Hordak’s shared time together evolved slowly into a bond that gave each of them a sense of belonging they had never experienced before with anyone else. It gave me the hope that, despite what an oddball mess I am, perhaps I could find someone who understands me too. 

When a romance subplot inserts itself into a story, I tend to gloss over and ignore it (if I pick up on it at all). I’m even less interested in sex. Way back when I was first getting into fandom I was so excited to go online and meet fellow fans of the books and shows I liked, only to discover the spaces being dominated by arguments over character pairings. I was baffled. This is what people are most interested in? Oh well… back to the hermit cave I go! 

I was late to the party with SPoP. I’d watched a few episodes, but the show didn’t really hook me. This was partially because all I ever heard people talk about online was Catradora, and if that was the main appeal of the show, I wasn’t sure I would enjoy it (sorry Catradora shippers, romance is not going to entice me to watch a show, even if it’s rep). Quarantine was the ultimate cause for me embracing my curiosity and diving headfirst into SPoP, binging the entire thing a few months before the release of season 5.

I vaguely knew about Entrapdak as a ship going into the show, and I admit, had I not been primed for it, I probably would have missed the romantic potential entirely. In no way did I expect to become invested. I was immediately intrigued by their dynamic, and as they got closer, I found myself thinking “oh, I see why people ship these two.” I didn’t understand this realization until months later. I was relating to the characters, and for the first time in my life, I was relating to their relationship.

I headcanon Entrapta and Hordak as an asexual couple. I’ll elaborate on this at a later time (asexuality is a spectrum with a lot of nuance, and this post is plenty long already), but at the core of it, I find joy in imagining these characters in a loving platonic relationship, something I hope to find myself one day. I hope this love comes across in my artwork and in my fanfictions <3

To those of you that read this far, wow, you must be patient! Have an imaginary cookie! I hope this ramble has provided a decent picture for why I, as an aro ace on the autism spectrum, have come to cherish Hordak and Entrapta’s relationship. It’s my first and only OTP… I’m still in shock thinking about that… I guess we’ll see where things go from here!

Take care of yourselves out there!

[rotationalsymmetry]

Returning to the theme of “what goes on in your life is news”…

I don’t have my skepticism glasses on with articles like these. (About the harm of responding to opioid addiction by getting doctors to prescribe fewer opioids.) And the reason why is, I’ve encountered this problem in my own circle of people I know. Not with a chronic pain condition fortunately or with forced tapering, but just one time when someone I knew was in pain from surgery and casually mentioned one time he was having trouble getting his refill on time that he didn’t want to get seen as drug seeking. (I don’t remember the details but I think the consequence was he got less medication than he needed for a bit.) The fear of being written off as an addict affects huge swaths of people, far beyond the number of people who actually get directly denied medication due to being seen as drug seeking.

And it makes sense! The possible consequences of getting that put on your chart…there’s a risk of getting stuck with a chronic pain condition and never being free of pain again, when the medications are there and you just aren’t allowed to have them. Of course people will go to great lengths to avoid that risk. Especially people who have already had the experience of being treated as less than fully human by other people and by institutions.

I’ve heard so many stories of health care disasters in the US and health care “wait, that’s it?” experiences in countries with socialized medicine. Guess where I stand on that issue. News articles didn’t convince me. People’s experiences did.

You know how I got to where I stand on intentional weight loss? Sure, I read some stuff, but the reason I believed that stuff is because my mom dieted on and off throughout my childhood, so when I encountered the narrative of “yeah, dieting leads to short term weight loss, but the vast majority of people don’t keep the weight off over time, even when they’re responsible people who try really hard” that was consistent with what I’d seen. I didn’t need studies (although, there are a metric shit ton of studies cited in Health At Every Size (the book)), I could just think about the people I knew and what their experiences were.

(My dad is about as skinny as he was in my baby pictures, even though my mom is the one who watches what she eats and Dad has never dieted in his life. I can see a utter lack of cause and effect when it’s staring me in the face.) (this is why many people find “fat is good, actually” diets compelling btw — they know low fat dieting didn’t work, but “maybe that specific dieting advice was wrong” fits the same data points pretty well too.)

You know what’s been getting me really pissed off about landlords? Living in apartment buildings.

You know why I became an anarchist? Because I was a good kid and I always did what I told and I got fucked up anyways. And then I read a book explaining how I got fucked up. And it made sense.

You know why I’m a feminist? Because I’ve had my ass grabbed by strangers, and because I don’t like shaving my armpit hair but you can’t just not shave your armpit hair as someone who looks like a woman without getting responses from people. And because I got pressured into a haircut I didn’t like in seventh grade. And if you think “well, it’s just a haircut” then you don’t understand anything about people.

I’m against school bullying because I was bullied. Because I know what it’s like. Because people I know and care about have been bullied. Because people I know of have died.

I’m against rape and for attempts to actively fight back against rape culture and create cultures based on consent and respect for bodily autonomy because, check as many as you like, I was raped, my friends was raped and she closed off emotionally and I lost my friend because some other asshole raped her, because I’ve heard an awful lot of personal stories about people (mostly but not exclusively women) getting raped and the aftereffects of that.

I care about community because I’ve spent a lot of my life being lonely.

I care about disability because I’m disabled. That’s not great, I wish I’d made it a priority earlier. (I wasn’t, like, against disability rights, I didn’t harass part time wheelchair users or whatever, but this is the sort of thing where most problems are actually caused by indifference, not active malice.) But I’m here now, and I’m here because being disabled sucks, and because only some of the suckitude is due to the conditions themselves. And at least now that I am here I’m trying to be solid on the “your struggle is my struggle” thing — I don’t have chronic pain but I’m for the rights of people who have chronic pain, I’m not developmentally disabled but I’m working to change my assumptions about people who are and I’m speaking up for developmentally disabled children and adults, I’ve never had any of the “scarier” mental illnesses (uh, that I’m aware of, I mean how do you know that you don’t have say a personality disorder) but I’m for destigmatizing all mental illnesses and I’m taking time to learn more and I’m for all people with mental illnesses getting assistance with activities of daily living when they need that. Even if it’s not obvious why food and showers and tooth brushing are not happening, the important thing is that they happen even if that means paying someone to make sure it gets done.

[justseveralowls]

Your best verses your breaking point: From a perfectionist to society in denial

mental healthHello, once again spectacular individuals! Today’s post is covering a topic that I think is very important and doesn’t get enough attention. This post is not a call out or to shame anyone/ any habits, instead, this is a pattern I have noticed in friends/acquaintances, and struggle with myself. This is to share awareness and offer some help and advice. So if you think this could be helpful for you or a loved one please continue! 

So we live in a productivity obsessed society. Proof of this lies in everything from our media (youngest billionaire, world records, how to have it all…), our ‘normal’ timeline for life (high school, college, career, marriage, kids…), and even our economic system (glorifying 60+ hour work weeks and normalizing over time even when not compensated for efforts. We start being exposed to this even before we can understand. We are taught that above average is what is required, praised for working hard had no matter other costs, encouraged to give up things that bring us joy or help us in order to be ‘productive’. This trend leads to an obsession with winning a race/maze that doesn’t exist/never ends instead of going a path that is healthy and fulfilling. 

There are REAL consequences to this method of thinking that are detrimental and reaching epidemic levels. The constant need to do more, be better, do it faster, earlier and for less reward leads to constant feelings of inadequacy and stress. This leads to chronic anxiety, depression, low self-esteem, a decrease in motivation and even feelings of hopelessness. This is the burn-out epidemic, and arguably is a huge problem for mental health and humanity as a whole.

Now I am guilty as heck of this, I have been pushing myself past breaking for years, and it took nearly dying (twice actually) to get me to actually realize this. At my breaking point, I thought I was fine (okay J reminds me, I wanted to think I was) but it wasn’t until I was forced to stop that I realized just how bad the situation was. Now I will acknowledge that my chronic illness struggles and life-threatening mental health issues (eating disorders are terrifying and dangerous. Get help) made this crash much more visible, but even without those two things, I would have been living on borrowed time. What I am saying is you can’t live at your breaking point, not only is it unsustainable but it will mess. you.  Up. Sometimes permanently (#chronic illness sucks guys). 

Learning to do your best instead of pushing yourself to your breaking point is not only helpful, and healthy, but actually can be actually life-saving.

So now comes the inevitable thought of “okay R, that’s great…. But how the flip-flap do you tell the difference between doing your best and going too far/ hitting your breaking point?”. And that my friend is what the following list/ comparison chart if for.

First, let’s look at important things to know about your personal best. Learned from experience, or things I am still trying to drive into my head.

Everyone has there own best, and that is valid and deserves as much respect before anyone else’s

Your best can change, whether by day or year

Example: On my good days my best is three blog posts and a shift at work without debilitating symptoms. But on my flare days: my best is listening to audiobooks and doing symptom management.

Your best is what is best for YOU, not your parents, society, or anyone else. Your job in this world is to make your life as happy and healthy as possible and be not hurt others. 

Okay so with that out of the way… now a handy dandy chart:

This list is a good quick check to see if you are pushing yourself too hard. If you found you fell more in the breaking point category, that is okay, this doesn’t make you bad or your situation hopeless. There are things to do to get back from that point. You are strong enough to have a happy life with reasonable standards and expectations. You can do this.

Reminders/ affirmations to end what turned out to be a rather long post…

You have a right to say no (I have a right to say no)

You are not obligated to push yourself to your breaking point (I am not obligated to push myself to my breaking point)

You are allowed to put yourself first (I am allowed to put myself first)

The people who care about you will respect your needs and boundaries (The people who care about my will respect my needs and boundaries)

Self-love is not selfish

Self-care is not selfish

Your best is enough (My best is enough)

You define your meaning of success (I define what success is for me)

We wish everyone positive energy, rest and happiness. You are doing great, you are not alone, you can do this.

Keep fighting,

R and D

[astoldbygingersnaps]

On Petco and COVID-19:

I’ve seen a lot of stories and reports about various companies and how they are treating their employees poorly in the wake of COVID-19, but to my surprise I haven’t seen anything about my company, Petco. I suppose it makes sense, given that Petco isn’t as large a company as Target, Starbucks, or Walmart, but I believe people should know what we as partners have been dealing with since the outbreak really picked up steam in the US. 

Before I detail exact what my personal struggle with the company has been, I’d like to make one thing clear: I am a hard worker. I have spent five years of my life--half a decade--dedicating myself to this company. I am both a dog trainer and a keyholder, and I take both of those duties very seriously. Nothing means more to me than taking care of pets and their people, and I pride myself on providing the best care and service to our guests as possible. So when I say that this entire situation is forcing me to abandon my job out of disgust for the way I and my fellow workers have been treated, I want you to understand how much that means. 

I love the work that I do, but that does not change the fact that I, along with many other Petco partners, have been exploited, dismissed, and outright lied to during this crisis. While I understand that we are living in a dangerous and chaotic time that is difficult to navigate, such a fact makes it all the more necessary to treat people with dignity, compassion, and respect. I do not enjoy putting an organization that I have given so much of my heart and soul to on blast, but the events of the previous month have made it clear that Petco as a company does not care whether or not its employees or even its customers are harmed or killed because of their negligence.

For almost a month our concerns have been ignored, belittled, and redirected, and the little action that has been taken has been incredibly delayed and led to even more confusion. Furthermore, we’ve had little clear guidance on what we, as partners who work in retail stores, should be doing to take care of ourselves and our guests. 

It is also worth noting that our CEO, Ron Coughlin, was sending out emails to Petco Pals Rewards members in the beginning of March claiming that stores would be instructed to disinfect and clean regularly, but no such instructions were ever given. We never received any emails or forms of internal communication telling partners on how they should be cleaning, and because of this my own store took time out of our day to develop a cleaning schedule and shared our template throughout the district. Again, this is something we did OURSELVES, NOT something we were explicitly told to do. So, if you don’t care about how retail workers have been treated, at least care that you, as a customer, have been lied to. 

From the beginning, there has been a very clear divide in how store partners have been treated compared to corporate/office workers. While corporate/office workers have the luxury of working from home with full benefits and are allowed to perform social distancing to the CDC’s guidelines, we are not so lucky. Again, I understand this, to a point: because of their positions they are able to perform their jobs from home while we are not. But such a decision was consistently framed as “difficult” and “emotional,” which, frankly, is bogus. What’s so hard about giving your employees access to work from their personal computer? And what’s so difficult for them anyway considering they’re not the ones who have to come in contact with the public day after day?

Through the second week in March, numerous communications were spread throughout the company on our internal Workplace service, each one more inadequate and inefficient than the last. The worst was a ten minute long video where our CEO repeatedly stated that “pets are our main priority” and described over and over again how we simply MUST stay open for our customers. It wasn’t until the very end of the video that any mention was given to partners at all. The entire post was incredibly off-putting and made me, as a partner, feel incredibly undervalued. 

What made things worse, however, were the comments under the video. Floods of partners shared their concerns and disappointments. Many of them cited having young children or older relatives at home, or were immunocompromised themselves, and worried about the danger that working in a retail environment put themselves and their loved ones in. And what was the company’s response? To tell these people over and over to simply “partner with their district manager if they were worried.” That’s it. No direction, no guidance, no words of comfort. Nothing. One person was even accused of simply not having a desire to work rather than, I dunno, A FEAR OF CONTRACTING AND SPREADING A DEADLY ILLNESS. 

The post in question (all names have been blacked out to respect privacy): 

It was some of the most vile behavior I have ever witnessed, both from upper management and lower-level employees like myself who were displaying an almost slavish devotion to a company that was so ready and willing to dispose of them. Multiple people stated they were proud to work for our company in this moment, which was utterly baffling to me, as I had never felt more worthless to Petco than I did seeing those messages.

So! Let’s talk about partnering with your local leader! (Spoiler alert: it’s fucking useless)

On March 15th, my direct supervisor and I made a call to our district leader to “discuss our concerns.” What followed was thirty minutes of our life wasted where we were told the exact same thing as we had been told via the Workplace post: no partner would lose their job for taking time off if they displayed symptoms or came into contact with a person who had COVID-19 (the absolute bare minimum, in my opinion), but they would be required to either take a fourteen day unpaid medical leave or use their personal PTO and sick time to cover the cost. Around this time I was both showing symptoms (dry cough, fatigue, shortness of breath) and learned that my fiancee, whom I live with, came into direct contact with someone with the illness via her work. The possibility of contracting COVID-19 was especially worrying for us, as my fiancee has severe asthma and I have scarring on my lungs from chronic bronchitis; were we to get sick, the consequences could be severe. It’s even more concerning given that the state we live in, Massachusetts, has one of the highest rates of infection in the US and hospitals are in danger of becoming overwhelmed. Therefore, I decided to make what I believed was the most responsible and ethical decision, and went on leave. 

Fortunately, I am lucky; as a full-time worker who has been with the company for many years, I have accrued enough PTO and sick time to cover the weeks that I would be gone for. But many people who work for this company are not so lucky. Many are part-time workers who are not entitled to benefits, and some are full-timers who may have already burned through their paid time off as it resets on the anniversary of your hire date. So now these workers, like many other workers across the country, are being asked to choose between taking care of themselves and their community or putting food on the table. It is absolutely inhumane, especially given that last time I checked our CEO is worth more than two million dollars--yet the rest of us are forced to worry about paying our rent and feeding our families while we do the dirty work on the front lines. 

Since I initially took leave, this has been amended, and employees who have been affected by COVID-19 have been given access to 40 hours of sick time, regardless of their status as full or part-time. But that only covers one week of the mandatory self-isolation period, meaning partners are still at risk of losing money. 

Time and time again we have been told how much our overlords value us. We have been thanked, we have been praised, and we have had so many meaningless words and tiny gestures thrown at us. Sure, our store hours have been cut and we’re offering curbside pick-up to reduce foot traffic in certain stores (my store, a smaller Unleashed location, doesn’t qualify for curbside pick-up, because of our size). Sure, changes have been made to the dog training program to freeze classes and puppy playtime for the time being. And sure, there has been a partner assistance fund opened to support partners in these ~trying times. I applaud the company for making these necessary changes and for putting their money where their mouth is when it comes to donating directly to us.

But in a lot of ways, it’s too little, too late, and so many of these services remain inaccessible to all partners. Hell, partners have even been policed about when they can actually utilize their own personal sick time even though we are in the middle of a global health crisis. 

Even for those of us who have done everything exactly as we were supposed to, we are still getting screwed. Currently, I’m battling with Petco HR to get paid for the first week of my self-isolation as, even though I submitted all my time off requests accurately, none of it was reflected in my paycheck; because we get paid by-weekly, I have yet to see whether my second week will be covered, but I suspect I will have to battle for that as well. As a person who lives paycheck to paycheck in one of the most expensive cities in the country, I quite literally can’t afford this right now. But, of course, the HR team is off work right now because of COVID-19, because unlike us they have that luxury. 

In addition to this, I’ve also been prevented from coming back to work because our Leaves Coordinator now claims I need a doctor’s note to return to work even though I have it in writing, from paperwork directly from the Leaves Department, that I do not, as evidenced here:

I would also like to note that I confirmed that I would be returning to work on the afternoon of March 27th and received an automatic reply that I would hear from a representative in 24 to 48 hours. I did not, in fact, hear back from a representative until March 30st at 11:59pm EST, ten hours before I was scheduled to return to work, as you can see here (again, I am hiding my personal information as much as possible to try and avoid retaliation from my employer): 

While I understand delays given that our HR and Leaves Departments are no doubt bogged down given how many employees are currently in the same boat as me, it does not change the fact that I am suffering because of their lack of action. 

It would be one thing if the facts had been clearly communicated from the very beginning, but as you can see that’s very much not the case. Instead, I’ve been jerked around, lied to, and, again, had my pay withheld. Every day I spend at home fighting with these people is another day of pay I lose and cannot get back. Words cannot express how terrible this whole experience has been. I’ve cried nearly every day and been so anxious and depressed I’ve literally vomited from the stress. All the years I’ve spent building my career and taking care of clients while earning money for this company and this is the thanks I get in return. It is quite literally sickening. 

Throughout this entire process I and many of the Petco employees in my area have been treated like absolute garbage. The stores in our district are running on fumes because so many partners are sick and/or on leave. Employees are running entire stores on their own and not getting breaks because we’re so short-staffed. One store in our district even closed down because a groomer tested positive for COVID-19 leading to the entire store shutting down and being professionally cleaned... and then re-opened almost immediately, causing even more of a burden on the remaining employees scrambling to cover all these near-empty locations. Our technology is over-loaded and crashing because it can’t bear the weight of our increased Buy Online, Pick Up In Stores (BOPUS) and curbside pick-up orders. It’s absolute insanity and it needs to stop. 

I am not the first person to say this, nor will I be the last, but the crisis we are currently experiencing has starkly exposed how broken our economic and social structures truly are. Along with doctors, nurses, and medical care professionals working in hideous conditions to keep the rest of us healthy and safe, the people who contribute the most to our communities are those that have traditionally been looked upon as unskilled and overall less-than: janitors, housekeepers, garbagemen, cashiers, shelf-stockers, etc. Very quickly public perception has turned, and now society as a whole knows what those of us who work these types of jobs have always known: we are essential. We have the power in society. And we should use that power to defend ourselves and each other, which is why I’m writing to you now. By shining a light on the flaws and failings of this company, I believe we can hold them and others like them accountable and demand better, because we absolutely deserve it. 

The bottom line is this: if you care about workers’ rights, if you value the safety and lives of your fellow humans, and if want to slow the spread of this disease that has upended everything we hold dear, don’t go to Petco. Don’t reward this company’s bad behavior with your money because they have proven they do not deserve it. 

[aroworlds]

Those With More, Part One

When Mara Hill's magic results in her brother's impossible, wondrous transition, of course Suki wants to know how she did it! What if Sirenne's magic workers can help others find euphoria? What if this magic can heal Suki's hands—or at least lessen her pain? But Mara, distrustful of priests after their failure in protecting Esher, won't share her power.

A senior priest must bear responsibility, but Suki suspects her problems lie deeper than lack of oversight, and her reluctance to discuss her aromanticism with a woman who needs support only proves it. Would she have preserved Mara's faith and Esher's health if she hadn't first avoided revealing herself to her aromantic kin? If she'd faced their expectations that she shoulder their pain and grief as well as her own?

Suki has lived her life by the Sojourner's second precept, but how does she serve when she doesn't have more to give—and never will?

Contains: A disabled, non-partnering allo-aro woman struggling with the expectations of her young, fledgling aromantic community; an autistic, aromantic priest reconsidering their expectations of their community's leader; and an allo-aro woman in need of support as she struggles with her non-partnering, aro-ace brother's illness. 

Content Advisory: Please expect many references to or depictions of aro antagonism, allo-aro antagonism, amatonormativity, familial abuse, mental illness, suicidal ideation, death, gender dysphoria, chronic pain, ableism and ageism. This piece contains non-detailed, non-specific reference to a character's past suicide attempts. 

Length: 4, 409 words (part one of two). 

Note: This is the last story in my Suki mini-series, but it refers to characters introduced in The Sorcerous Compendium of Postmortem Query and is best read following the stand-alone story What Makes Us Human. You can find links to all on my pinned post or on this Tumblr master post.

Non-romantic love, to Suki, serves a similar role as the Sojourner or any other god: a fine concept in theory, but while she respects others’ need for a guiding framework, she can only nod vaguely at love’s existence.

***

They talk in a west-facing corner of the inner gardens, the sun edging towards the valley’s cradling ridgelines. Suki sits with careful stillness, resting her bony wrists and fingers in her lap. Her companion, Mara Hill, twirls a lock of dark hair around her finger with the ease of a woman unaware of her movements’ toll. Few people reach the ends of their lives untouched by disability, but Suki still aches to watch others take their youthful ability for granted … even if Mara’s restless fidgeting suggests anxiety as much as mind-type.

Suki was an artist once, albeit not the kind of craftswoman draped in the world’s renown. She built wonder from bare ingredients. She made the needed and the practical from scraps of thread and fabric. She took her hands’ ability to knead and shape for granted, revelling in others’ appreciation, until the pain built to a degree even she couldn’t deny. Given the option, she’ll always sit in her garden with her knitting needles or workbasket, making.

She can’t reconcile herself to hours spent halting her fingers and wrists in too-often-futile hope of preserving later use.

“Must I explain, one trans woman to another, why we want this?” Suki works to ease her voice, to sound possessed of patience and released of jealousy. “We … dabble, in spells and medicines, parlour tricks to lessen anguish, but this … it can be freedom. When wrought correctly.”

Now, Suki sees little sense in seeking such a transition: she’s had time to forge an accord with her body and gender. If said accord holds a touch of the defiant, rebellion nonetheless sheltered her through aching moments of feeling her body less hers than a chafing suit she’ll endure for this life. Gender, though, only began the war of Suki’s selfhood separating from her own blood and breath, and it long ago won second place on her list of impossible wishes.

What if Mara’s magic can do more than change a body’s sexual characteristics?

What if it can ease Suki’s hands, heal her knees, return to her the gift of unthinking movement?

Mara shifts her hands to twist the untied lace dangling from her bodice. She’s a handsome woman: tall and long-limbed, her cheekbones sharp enough to slice hard cheese. Full lips, wide skirts and a waist-length sable braid soften the flat planes of her face, shoulders and hips. Suki can’t call Mara beautiful, but she may have used the word “ethereal” if Mara didn’t also bare her haphazard humanity: hair falling out of its pins, scores of grass stains marking her petticoats, a waistcoat absent any matching buttons, a dress ten years out of style knotted up to bare clashing stockings and scuffed boots. Life with Mara, Suki suspects, is no small amount interesting, but one needn’t fear from her airs or pretentiousness.

This conversation, regardless, comes none the easier.

“I know you understand,” Suki says, attempting a beseeching gentleness. “How can’t you?”

“It’s a secret.” Mara stares at Suki with a distressingly direct gaze, as though hoping to emphasise her sincerity through eye contact. “Handed down from witch to witch. I’ve sworn oaths to the living and the dead. I can’t. And I won’t.”

Mara Hill is also a terrible liar.

“You insist this isn’t sorcery. It’s witchcraft—a type of magic that can be taught! Why, then, can’t you teach us? Can’t you imagine what we could do, if we could study and understand it?”

Just as Suki regrets such desperation-fuelled bluntness, flashes of brown, red and grey show through the eucalypts and fern-encrusted rockery dividing the outer garden from an interior courtyard. Only two other people in Sirenne stand tall enough to be seen over said wall of rocks, and neither looks towards her. Moll, their face set in their accustomed expressionlessness and their iron-grey hair scraped back in a braid, walks close by their companion: a man with Mara’s cheekbones, his gaze distant and his face cavernous. While health warms her sienna skin, even when moistened by anxiety and dappled sunshine, his sallow complexion provokes no kind adjectives.

Esher Hill is the gaunt, walking embodiment of the nightmare Sirenne’s priests struggle to dispel when discussing medicines and spells—a man who appears drugged and ensorcelled into a puppet-like lifelessness, a state absent all vitality.

His sister caused, provoked or necessitated most of it.

Most.

Like too many guests, Mara brought her brother to the monastery when absent solutions in her home village’s offerings of lay priests, physicians, magic workers and well-meaning family members—a last, desperate resort. Esher wasn’t happy or healthy, but he had muscle and energy enough that Suki decided his taciturnity somewhat intentional. He stopped to pet Sirenne’s horses; he allowed their cats to settle on his lap. He scowled when faced with chattering acolytes. He reacted.

Mara’s power stripped his bones of flesh and tissue in the quest to craft him an almost-cis body. New organs, somehow, grew; others withered and sloughed away like an unused cocoon. Such impossibility should be a miracle, but can one fairly call a tempest that devoured his body and hammered his mind miraculous?

What if, though, this transition becomes a goal identified and worked towards with desire, preparation and consent? What if a patient understands what lies ahead? Can one then cope with magic’s trauma, a difficult moment endured in travelling a chosen road? Or what if they narrow the scope to one change, one part of the body?

Will she then see a butterfly, bloodied but eager to take flight?

Will she then be able to live her last years still wielding her pastry brushes and knitting needles?

“It’s dangerous!” Mara follows Suki’s gaze towards the rockery, her lips pressed together in pale, thin lines. “Can’t you see that? Shouldn’t you?” Her husky voice sharpens like a blade on a grindstone. “And what makes you think I should trust you with it? Or would?”

Suki bites her lip while counting backwards from ten. Her tongue runs to tart even when voicing second and third thoughts, and she fears she offers little sympathy when she finds something worth speaking: “But less dangerous in better circumstances? If he knew, was prepared, agreed, expected…”

If a witch doesn’t work her magic behind the priests’ backs, but that’s less Mara’s fault than Sirenne’s.

The question remains: if a witch fears dysphoria's ache the cause of her brother’s depression, why didn’t she offer this magical transition weeks or months earlier? Why didn’t she gain Esher’s prior agreement and approval? Why did Mara bother to take him to a monastery? That she wrought this after Sirenne’s failures dashes Suki’s hopes: Mara’s supposed witchcraft is sorcery, unpredictable and unreachable. Nothing more than a panicked, desperate deal made with demons, a grave power Sirenne can’t replicate ... even should a priest be fortunate enough to make the same bargain with the same brace of demons.

If demons routinely offered such vast power, how many trans people wouldn’t sell their soul for a body suiting their nature?

“Prepare? After you made me—” Mara’s voice cracks like thick, shadowed frost under morning’s first footstep. “If there were anywhere else, if I thought … we wouldn’t be here!”

Suki shifts in her chair, her hands and feet aching as though a purple-black bruise engulfs her joints. Is it a wild, ridiculous joke that her body throbs as if beaten while showing no wound to draw sympathy? Why must a black eye or nasty scrape provoke sorrow while injuries or illnesses unable to heal garner, at best, a mute acceptance? Why do people following the Sojourner’s path lack comprehension in the second precept’s broadness? Why must a priest spend her day asking questions lacking comforting answers?

Because Amadi’s ideal became her god: question.

Mara’s desperation, too, deserves an answer.

“We failed,” Suki says, her own throat roughening. “We failed to serve Esher’s needs. A man who has too long had those needs unmet, and believes he has failed in even wishing his needs met, reacted to this lack in despair. There’s nothing irrational in that.” She wants to smile, because she can’t not know the rationality behind such a conclusion, but Mara won’t understand. She doesn’t know about Mama Lewis. “We went over our changes with you, for we can’t allow this to again happen. I ask you sincerely: are we now doing something inadequate? Are you unhappy with Moll or Thanh’s service? Within the limits of our resources and ability, what aren’t we doing that you think we should? How can we better help Esher? Help you?”

Suki didn’t assign Esher’s first priest. She didn’t speak or condone the words that gave him reason to lose the last shred of a trust abraded by too many authoritative people. She didn’t know why he needed consideration in the priest given to guide him; the unasked question wasn’t hers to speak. Ignorance, nonetheless, rings like an intimate, personal failure.

Not a failure Sirenne’s priests share as a collective whole.

A failure, terrible and tragic, in Suki.

Could she have tried harder to serve as an aromantic priest?

Mara purses her lips, her green skirt clenched in tight-knuckled hands. “He’s … always been. A little. But only in the last few years was he so distant, and I don’t think … he wasn���t bad like this until after the Thinning and Benjamin.”

Suki takes Mara’s non-answer as indication that, at least for the moment, she has no objection—and perhaps that’s a victory, but what good is winning when the war shouldn’t be fought? Suki sighs, shaking her head, as Moll and Esher move past the gap in the trees, vanishing behind canopy and granite outcrops. Only her garden, in its art-defying muddle of ferns, trees, mushrooms and bright-coloured orchids, remains—and while, ordinarily, such clashing shades appeal to her, today those greens and reds feel another mockery, a symbol and privilege undeserved.

Even when Moll gave her the opportunity to address her neglect, she took retreat in her brusque manner and authority, confident that a conscientious priest wouldn’t examine the shallowness of her answer. She offered reassurance, solved a problem, revealed herself in the most cursory of ways and fled with fears and feelings still buried within her aching bones.

Question.

If she considers god her ideal and Amadi’s ideal her god, why didn’t she?

“Benjamin is your partner, yes?” Suki shifts her left ankle, thinking even a circumlocutory attempt to build rapport better than another futile attempt at questioning. “May I ask what happened at the Thinning? You needn’t answer.”

Mara’s body softens, although she doesn’t ease her grip on the skirt. “Have you had … family, friends, come visiting? After they … pass?”

For all that belief in the Sojourner’s path embodies the human struggle to conceptualise, negotiate and accept death, hir followers still deal in euphemisms. Family come visiting. Bad like this. Suki, in the outspoken rebelliousness of a would-be priest, spent a year into her novitiate chanting “death, death, death” at her mirror before bed, just to prove that death isn’t a black-cloaked reaper summoned upon saying hir name.

Such boldness failed her, of course, when Mama Polly passed.

“There’s always spirits flickering about, but few speak.” Suki barks a hoarse laugh. “A man who desired me and told me that he’d never have broken his neck if I’d first wed him. Both my mothers. Mama Lewis talks too much.”

Such events aren’t for Suki as unusual an occurrence as they are for the non-necromantic laity, but the conversations between the returning dead and the priest who offered guidance on their paths through the life now history aren’t for outsiders. There’s always a few, often those who died in the last year and haven’t yet had their connections to this world stretch thin, who come back to speak rather than observe. Sometimes those spirits come burdened with regret and recrimination; sometimes they express gratitude or relief. Death, drawing closer with every breath, grants the living a night a year where one must look into hir shadow and fearlessly accept, even celebrate, hir company.

She’s none too fond of Mama Lewis’s bitter postmortem moaning, but a salt circle and poker at least puts paid to that nonsense.

Respecting the sacred covenant of life and death doesn’t mean tolerating abuse.

“Really?” Mara blinks, shaking her head. “She came to me, with other dead relatives and villagers—my Aunt Rosie. I think she knew I needed to talk to her. She told me that I don’t have to romantically love a girl to want or love a girl, and they told me all the ways they didn’t love, which made me feel that … I could talk to the woman I wanted. So I did.” A sweet warmth softens and curves her lips, but the speed with which Mara flattens them suggests she isn’t easy with smiling in current circumstances. “And we’re together, now. But Esh … he doesn’t want anyone, and that should be fine, but maybe … it wasn’t good for him to see me and Ben happy.”

She leans forwards, coughing, before wiping her palm on her skirt.

Suki clenches her hands, fighting to ease her expression before Mara catches her face. It rankles, to say the least, when someone happy in an intimate partnership—however non-romantic!—suggests that those without must be broken in their loneliness. How can she ignore the reflections of Mama Lewis, one shape of expected love or partnership replacing another in the same unyielding structures and assumptions? Mama Lewis cut and hewed the shape of Suki’s illnesses, not another’s possession of something she doesn’t want!

Non-romantic love, to Suki, serves a similar role as the Sojourner or any other god: a fine concept in theory, but while she respects others’ need for a guiding framework, she can only nod vaguely at love’s existence.

Anger, though, doesn’t explain the terror stiffening her body.

“Or after seeing you find a less-conventional form of the coupled happily-ever-after,” she says in a voice perilously close to “glacial”, “your kin and village increased their expectations that he should find the same?”

Mara stares, her lips parted as if in surprise or hurt. “I … Uncle Sascha would say that, I guess. So would the Fisher sisters.” She sighs, frowning. “I don’t know. Just that he got worse after Benjamin … right when I thought he’d get better, because Aunt Rosie said that we’re … real, human. Just a less-known ordinary. Even if we didn’t know the specific word before Moll said it.”

“Only your brother knows why,” Suki says in the mild, self-evident comment a guiding priest says to people having difficulty observing—or permitting themselves to observe—the truth before them. The mild, self-evident comment a priest, who doesn’t fear the direction of this conversation, may say to a guided guest. “So why bother yourself with if I didn’t non-romantically pair up with a girl, maybe he wouldn’t have tried to kill himself drivel? Can you go back in time to not pair up? No! Nor should you halt your life just in case it may be the reason!”

Mara’s half-raised eyebrows suggest that she doesn’t agree.

“Girl, the world tells you in so many ways that you shouldn’t non-romantically partner. After all that repetition, you’re inclined to find excuses to obey that! Keeping my brother from attempting suicide feels more reasonable to you than most puerile objections, but is this reasonable? Are you helping him by thinking this? Or are you obliging everyone who thinks you shouldn’t exist by undermining your partnership with misplaced guilt?”

She refrains from mentioning the insult in anyone’s assuming that depression must be provoked by the existence of someone else’s intimate partnership, as though such relationships are so fundamental one must sicken in witnessing another’s contentment! She refrains, unable to think of anything that doesn’t sound like an observation based in betraying knowledge. Shouldn’t they focus less, anyway, on Mara’s limited understanding of non-partnering people and more on the real issue at hand: her trying to craft another impossible?

Even if it means making herself the cause, Mara seems set on wishing together a world possessed of perfect assurance that her brother won’t again attempt suicide.

Sorcery is by far an easier art, but that’s no comforting truth.

Mara glances at Suki’s belt, as if in need of reassurance that she talks to a senior priest. “Are you, uh … well...”

“Am I what, girl? Don’t cluck!”

Mara swallows, stumbling over the word likely strange to her voice. “Aro … aromantic? Because you sound like…”

Aromantic.

A word in a book, discovered by accident.

A word feared, weighted down by her obligation and pain.

A word unsaid, a man nearly dying of its absence.

“Aromantic and allosexual. I like men for bedding. I don’t like partnerships.” Suki speaks with the casualness that shaped her words when speaking to a distressed priest in a vegetable garden, words said now as if they’ll make up for their silent past. Words said devoid of her terror. “I have enough of one with myself.”

She waits, wondering if Mara will subject her to the young, abled trick of past tense, as though sexuality must be Suki’s history and not her present or future. Something accessible only to the hale and young, presuming her sense of another’s sexual attractiveness withers along with her body? Or will Mara grimace, disgusted by the notion of an elderly, disabled woman whose sexuality hasn’t “decently” become distant memory?

She waits for the accusation: why didn’t you say this before?

“So you understand … why it’s … hard, to live unknowing who you are and what you want, what the words are?” Mara’s brow furrows, her hesitant speech giving way to a spurting rush of feeling: “That’s what Aunt Rosie gave us that night, but it came so late. I lived for so long not knowing, without a word, without knowing it an option! That it had a name! And that hurts, even now I have what I didn’t know I wanted or could want. For so long, I didn’t know! Maybe … that’s it, for Esh, the hurting? Or part of it? How can’t it be…?”

How old is she? Twenty-five? Thirty at most? One needn’t own precision in telling another’s age to know that Mara’s adulthood, outside of accident or illness, stands years distant from death’s shadow. Suki draws a sharp breath, fighting to swallow the tart, quill-bristled question clogging her throat: And when do you think I found the word, girl?

Amadi gifted her the other-shape-of-normal permissiveness, but ey died unknowing of the word describing them both.

Ey died, leaving her alone in a world where she feels outdated and unwanted, where everyone sharing in the known power of the word aromantic can’t comprehend her pain but expects her to, immediately and easily, carry theirs.

Mara needs her pain acknowledged, to have someone confirm that possession of a happy non-romantic partnership can’t and shouldn’t erase ignorance’s lingering hurts. Someone who acknowledges that such bruises are long in the fading but one can still build a life worth living. Someone who reflects understanding and the vital, powerful sense of aromantic siblinghood. Someone who can give what she needs and deserves.

Why must Suki provide it? Why not Moll? Why not anyone else?

“Yes.” She swallows, shifting her throbbing hands, fighting to keep the growl from claiming her voice. Another failure! “We all feel the … betrayal, the years lost to ignorance. Why didn’t I know? You’ll have times of hurting, of struggling, of wondering what could have been if your family knew, your friends, your neighbours. When something isn’t yet recognised or accepted, despite being extant and common … pain, for those of us ahead of that coming, isn’t optional. You aren’t alone in that.”

Suki isn’t gentle. Increased social permissiveness towards the crotchety manner discouraged in children and younger adults stands as one of age’s rare benefits. Mama Polly joked that Suki was set to be a grandmother while still a maiden, but Mama Lewis—curse her long-dead soul—didn’t laugh. Even after half a century gone, Suki can still recite her clipped lectures, delivered in the hope that decreased acidity and increased sweetness will help her daughter find the happiness packaged in a loving, romantic partnership.

Mama Lewis’s shade, returning for her once-yearly lecture, still hopes that her now-elderly daughter will soften enough to allow love into her heart.

It should amuse Suki that such gentleness is now demanded whenever she dares reveal herself as aromantic.

Mara nods, her lips pressed together, her jaw tight, her glistening eyes angled towards her lap.

“It could be part of your brother’s feelings. It could be something else. But this second-guessing of his motivations doesn’t help you or him!” Suki changes the subject for Mara’s sake: for a woman fighting to keep from breaking down before a near-stranger. “Where does this get you but exhaustion? You’re only going to chase your guesses around and around until you’re a dog barking at a rat behind a grate—only to finally spot a different rat gnawing on his brain, realise you’ve been barking at this one for no reason, and there’s actually a score of invisible rats feasting on his poor, bloody brain. Does this help you see those invisible rats? Does this barking help your health, girl?”

She absolutely, assuredly isn’t changing the subject because Suki fears the explosion of her own anger and hurt while discussing aromanticism.

Question. How can she?

Mara’s eyes meet Suki’s face in the bulging stare had by someone imagining rodents chewing on grey matter. “R—rats?”

“Chewing brain rats. You want pretty metaphors for a bloody illness? Don’t talk to a priest, then. Pretty metaphors leave people telling themselves depression isn’t illness, just something that can be shouted, shamed or pressured into abeyance. I don’t hold for that.” Suki sighs and attempts to ease Mara’s shock, hating her bluntness’ sharp, gleaming edges. Is she trying to hurt Mara, wounds delivered in return for those unintentionally given? “I know you want to help your brother. You’ll do more for him by asking what he needs, and listening to what he tells you even if it’s ‘nothing’, instead of chasing every rat in the hope they’re the ones eating him. There’s too many rats, girl! When he’s able to cope with your asking, ask. Leave handling the rats to us—because that’s what we’ll teach him.”

If only they’d thought to ensure Mara realised this before she attempted to bludgeon the rat labelled “dysphoria”, but who imagined a village witch owning such power or ability?

Mara nods: perhaps accepting such advice, perhaps planning to avoid future commentary on what she thinks provoked her brother’s attempt. Her silence is, though, more honest than immediate agreement. Better that than false approval or out-of-hand rejection, especially when she hasn’t agreed to a guiding relationship between priest and guest. Especially when Suki has already stepped further over that line than is wise for a priest struggling with herself! Anyway, hasn’t she gleaned enough to make a solid guess—that Mara sold her soul to purchase Esher’s transition? What more need they discuss?

She isn’t a powerful witch keeping her magic a solemn, oath-bound secret.

She��s a frightened sister doing everything she can to hold her brother into life.

Is that another rat set to gnaw on Esher’s brain? Is that, as much as distrust or fear of priestly reaction to sorcery, reason for her denial? Does she seek to keep this secret from Esher and the priests involved in his care to avoid making yet another rat? Does Moll realise this?

Is Mara all that different from Suki herself?

“I’m sorry that I can’t help you.” Mara stands and bows in the abrupt, jerking movements of a woman looking to leave before the conversation leads them anywhere uncomfortable—and Suki feels unreasonably relieved. “Thank you for your advice—and wisdom.” She hesitates, leaving Suki certain that “wisdom” is nothing more than politeness. “I’m glad, I suppose, there’s more people like us here. Maybe … maybe that will help Esh, if things go better.”

“If you think a priest’s guidance may be useful for your own sake,” she says, falling back on well-worn script in the surety that her own words are far too confronting, “please know that our service extends to all. And I hope, one day, aromantics are so ordinary there’s no need to comment.”

Mild, facile, trite.

Her hands throb, and Suki fights to unclench them.

Mara’s face shutters. “You’ve more than enough work with Esh.”

She bows again and, in a frenetic, long-paced stride best described as “hurrying”, heads down the garden path towards the guest quarters.

Trust.

Can she blame Mara for not trusting her when Suki has none to give?

She sighs and stares at her orchids, at the stone rising behind the tangle of shrub and ivy, at the blue-tinged mushrooms threatening to take over the lawn, at the green grass beneath her chair and the cloudless sky overhead. She stares at the rocks and leaves of her sanctuary, thinking about Mara, thinking about Mamas Lewis and Polly, thinking about the conversation with Moll in the vegetable garden, thinking about words unsaid and feelings concealed … but as the sun ebbs lower, she finds no course of action but the obvious.

Question.

Why has she, for so long, chosen avoidance over service? Why has she refused to face her pain, even while knowing the impact her absence has on others? If she preaches the sacred power in guiding another to a better road, why does she refuse another’s gift of the same? Will she leave this world as Mara is now? Or will she trust her own kin, her own ideals—the only god worth her wholehearted belief?

“Aziz!” Suki waves a hand at the acolyte reading on the lawn just out of non-shouting earshot. “Tell Moll that I’d like them to attend me here at their earliest convenience. Please have the kitchen arrange sweets for both of us and my afternoon tea.” She pauses, considering, as Aziz scrambles upright and straightens hir brown robe. “My shawl. And ask Thanh for an additional dose of my pain medicine. Thank you.”

Question.

If Moll is good enough for Esher Hill, they ought to be good enough for Suki of Sirenne.

[scripttorture]

Under the right conditions, is it possible to "brainwash" someone using torture? My character was raised by someone who wanted to turn him into their own weapon, so they would condition them to react a certain way, using what can be seen as torture methods. The history of this character will only be shown in flash backs but I want to get this right and show the terrible and lasting impact of that history.

Nope.

 Not even remotely possible. And the way this trope is used in most fiction it isn’t really survivable either.

 The best case outcome I can see for a situation like the one you’ve described is a severely physically disabled and severely traumatised adult who would probably be unable to care for their own needs or ‘pass’ as a normal member of society.

 I’m also… skeptical of some of the phrasing here. ‘Can be seen as torture methods’ sounds very much like plain ol’ torture to me. Whatever apologist material you’ve read I can assure you that in reality there is really very little grey area.

 Chances are what you thinking of is torture and has serious long term physical consequences. Like death.

 If you really do want to get this right then in my opinion you have a choice between keeping the torture or keeping the character as an effective fighter.

 I can’t tell you which is the better choice for your story. That is up to you.

 But if you want to be realistic and if you want to be respectful to survivors you can not have both.

 Neither option is right or wrong. It depends on what you think the most important part of this character is.

 If the torture seems to be the most important part then that’s going to mean accepting the effects on the character.

 A lifetime of torture starting at a young age is likely to result in death. When it doesn’t severe mental health problems and developmental delays are guaranteed. Long term physical disability is incredibly likely, but the exact form it would take depends on the abuse.

 Intellectual disability is also really really likely. Especially if the character is kept in solitary confinement, starved or food is withheld as a punishment.

 A character like this would be much less effective as a fighter then an ordinary person. They would learn how to fight much more slowly. Their strength and reflexes would be worse. They would be significantly hampered by chronic pain and whatever other forms of physical disability the abuse left them with.

 Essentially if a character like this reached adulthood they would probably require some form of regular support. This could range from health care worker visits every other evening to 24 hour care. It would take years of support, care and concerted effort for the character to be able to care for themselves and function as a member of their community. Even with all that support they might never be able to care for themselves.

 This is what I mean when I talk about the misconceptions we have around torture being harmful.

 Because we have all seen dozens of examples of this narrative. Where tortured characters are ‘forced’ to become warriors, assassins, ‘killing machines’.

 The reality is these people struggle to leave their homes. They struggle to feed themselves.

 And we turn around and paint them as dangerous for it, for daring to survive.

 It just isn’t cricket.

 Which brings me to option two. Trying to make the character into an effective and loyal fighter.

 That means getting rid of any physical abuse in the narrative because it is more likely to produce resistance to the ‘teacher’ character and is more likely to make a less effective fighter.

 When I say ‘any physical abuse’ I absolutely mean it. Spanking, going to bed without supper, standing or sitting in the corner for long periods, washing their mouth out with soap. Any physical punishment should be avoided in the story.

 Even if it’s a punishment that is normalised or portrayed as ‘less harmful’.

 Solitary confinement also definitely counts. The definition is less then 1-2 hours of human contact a day.

 There’s research on the effects of solitary confinement on young children, but studies on incarcerated teenagers in the US clearly show a larger negative effect in children compared to adults. If the effects on teenagers is severe enough to have a lasting impact on their ability to socialise then I think it’s safe to assume the impact on younger children would be devastating.

 Realistically speaking if you want a character to be capable of interacting with others in a passably ‘normal’ way then that character needs to have regular, positive interaction growing up.

 Abuse does not instil loyalty.

 In fact the evidence we have for torture pretty clearly shows that it increases resistance. It produces opposition, often lasting and strong opposition. This does not necessarily mean violent action; it means that survivors and witnesses tend to despise torturers and anyone they associate with torturers. And they act on those feelings in whatever way they can.

 Abuse does not aid learning or training.

 It does make students significantly more likely to die.

 If you want a character who is loyal and can fight well then realistically speaking the process you want to describe is more like a cult. I refer to these techniques as ‘ICURE’ partly because some of the literature does and partly because I feel like it’s a helpful acronym that reminds readers what the techniques are.

 ICURE means: Isolate, Control information, create Uncertainty, Repetition and Emotive arguments. Let me break that down and explain how it works.

 The group (or possibly just the abusive individual in your story) isolates the targetted character from people outside the group. This can mean physically imprisoning them or (more commonly) making it difficult for them to socialise with people outside the group.

 This can be done with punishments. But more often it’s achieved with manipulation rather then violence.

 If the target is encouraged to ‘convert’ others or persuade them to join the group that can severely limit the social interaction they have with people outside the group. It teaches people outside the group to avoid that person otherwise they’ll get a sermon.

 Another approach might be putting social or emotional penalties on interacting with people outside the group.

 For example, say this child character sees other children playing in a park and asks the teacher character if they can go and play.

 First the teacher might say that other children are awful and do they really want to go? They won’t enjoy it. Are they sure? Well the teacher has a lot of things to do today it would be very inconvenient. Are they really sure? They won’t have fun. Other children are bad and mean. Wouldn’t they rather do some more training like a good child or play a game with the teacher? Are they really really sure? Well alright fine they’ll go outside but only with the teacher and only for twenty minutes-

 This kind of interaction teaches children that trying to interact with people outside the group is not worth the effort.

 This is part of ‘Controlling information’. It means that anything the character learns is first filtered through the larger group. It’s a form of censorship which means the character is only exposed to information that supports the group/ideas the group wants the character to have.

 This is combined with creating uncertainty about beliefs the group wants the character to reject. Often this means only providing information that discredits their outside belief systems. It can also mean extended discussions about ‘why x is wrong’.

 Things that are designed to create uncertainty don’t have to be true or accurate. Often they’re not. But if the character has little contact with outside sources they may never find out the truth.

 Repetition is, what it says on the tin. It’s repeating this pattern of only giving the character information the group wants them to have, positive messages about the ideals the group wants to instil and negative messages about previous belief systems. Consistent repetition over a long period of time has an effect on our beliefs. Sometimes it even effects them when we know the information is wrong.

 Emotive arguments means- well keeping any discussion away from logic. Something like- going from ‘well I’m not sure this idea about our belief system lines up with what you taught me’ to the manipulative character asking why the target hates them/God/the entire group.

 This sort of environment through childhood would lead to an intensely isolated individual, almost entirely reliant on the teacher-character for all their emotional and social needs as well as physical survival.

 And that produces a character that’s likely to be intensely loyal.

 Because we are social animals and we need positive interaction. We will often to choose to go along with group-actions, even if we don’t like them or feel they’re wrong, if the alternative is being alone.

 Manipulative groups and individuals often go out of their way to persuade targetted people that the only options are them or complete isolation. It’s a horribly successful strategy.

 Rounding this off- I suggest you take a look at this masterpost on common torture apologia tropes.

 You should also read this post on researching torture and this one on the most common effects it has on adults.

 I can’t tell which of these two options is the correct one for your story.

 All I can really do is explain why the story, as it is right now, is unrealistic. And how that repeated fictional trope harms survivors and our understanding of torture.

 Where you go from here and how you use that information is up to you.

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[cripple-cryptid]

Getting To Know Me (Again)

It’s been a long time since I’ve really made a serious post that was well thought out and also like, a full update. It’s been a long time since I’ve even really just made a literal “Life Update” as well. So I guess this is a good time. I think it’s important because this blog has changed quite a bit in the past few years, and I think that I need to just make some things clear. This is probably going to get long, and heavy, but I think this is important, and I’m hoping that maybe I can help people in the future after I get this taken care of. Fair Warning: I am literally the worst at organizing this sort of thing, but I would really appreciate it if you read it the whole way through because it would mean a whole lot to me.

Hello. My name is Sava. I’m 22 years old. I’m a transmasculine Agender individual, and my preferred pronouns are They/He. Truthfully, I don’t mind other pronouns as long as they are not She/Her. I am a trans person, and I experience dysphoria. I’m planning on getting top surgery and HRT at some point in my life. I don’t know when, but I hope that it will be soon. I’m also Asexual, and Aromantic. I’m sex repulsed, and romantically indifferent. I am polyaffectionate (thanks to @aromanticpolyamory for the flag on this one, and coining the term as far as I’m aware?) and I have two partners. I love them both very much, with all my heart, even when I am an AroAce. So in summary, I’m a polyaffectionate Triple A (thank you @aro-ace-agender-space for the beautiful Triple A Pride Flag once again I literally love it to death)

I am also disabled. Mentally, and physically. I went most of my life undiagnosed, however I have been tested repeatedly for various things since I was a small child. I was always disregarded, and never got a proper diagnosis for my mental illnesses until I was 17. My physical ailments were ignored and went unnoticed until I was an adult, and I still am working towards a true understanding of what is going on. I am an amalgamation of many things, both mentally and physically, and it is a very long and frustrating process. Everything from my Depression, PTSD, and various other mental illnesses mix with my hEDS, Fibromyalgia, Chronic Migraines, and Insomnia. New symptoms are cropping up, as well as potential new problems. There are many things that make sense to me now that I look back on how I grew up. My old injuries make sense. My weird allergies make sense. Some of the things that I seemed to have inherited from my parents now make sense. But now that I’m older, I’m starting to learn. I have tools, braces, and mobility aids that make life easier. I finally decided that meds are a smart idea, so doing the responsible thing is starting to pay off. I hope.

I’m...not the same person I was when I first joined this site 10 years ago. I was innocent, misguided, selfish, manipulative, lazy, and bigoted. I did nothing to change my views, and didn’t really allow anyone to educate me on things that I did not realize were actually important. I was ableist, somehow sexist and misogynistic, and downright stupid. Despite all this, I thought I was right in all the wrong ways, and never tried to properly justify any of my points. And this is where everything changes.

I am going to put a warning here now. These are my beliefs, and If I receive any hate in my messages or in my askbox because of what I am about to say, I’m not even going to answer them. I am entitled to my opinion, and you are to yours. If I am threatened, I will report the threats. And that is that.

You are allowed to self Dx. I’m not going to say that it’s better than a professional diagnosis 100% of the time, but some people are not capable of getting a professional Dx at that point in their lives. Sometimes, it’s the start of the journey towards finding answers, and that is why I support it. You do not need dysphoria to be trans. Now mind you, I am referring to the umbrella term here. I feel that sometimes, you don’t agree with the identity that you were assigned with at birth, and that it can cause a serious disconnect. This can apply to many different identities, whether that is genderfluidity, gender neutrality, or another identity, it is not for me to say. I am not in charge of your body, you mind, and how your autonomy works. I know that people will argue with me on this, but I think the most important thing is that we all need to support each other in the community, regardless of what labels we use. It’s a journey of self discovery, and sometimes, labels change. It’s okay. I love you no matter what. Aspec People belong in the LGBT+ community. I’m not going to expand on this because I don’t have to. There is plenty of history that you can look up for yourself on the internet, and I don’t have to justify myself. Your spiritual beliefs (or lack thereof) are yours to practice, and I’m not going to shame you for them. I have my own beliefs, and I’m not going to shove them down your throat. I’m not going to tell you that you’re going to hell. I’m not going to try to “convert” you. I’m going to respect you to the best of my ability, and if I need clarification on anything, I will try my best to make sure that I do not overstep any boundaries. I will not shame you for your body, no matter how you look or how it works. It is not my place to tell you how to look, how to dress, or how to take care of yourself. I love you and I hope that you can love yourself, too. Abled people do not have a say in how to treat disabled bodies. You do not know our pain and you have not gone through the same journies that we have. This goes the same for neurotypical people and speaking for neurodivergent people. We know ourselves better than you ever could. POC voices are the only voices that matter on topics that relate to their struggles. White voices hold no weight because we know nothing about what we are saying. BLACK LIVES MATTER. FOREVER.

There are many topics that I have not addressed here, but I cannot think of many more at this current moment. I’m considering making some sort of masterpost, or fixing up my FAQ later on to better address all these things later on. But I have more that I need to and want to say in this post, and I need to move on.

It’s been a long time, and things change. I have changed. This blog has changed many times. I will probably be revamping the appearance of the blog soon as well. so I decided that this long post is a good time to say the things that I need to say.

I want to help people. I might be a bit of a grump, and sometimes, I’m a bit of a wild card when it comes to things that I’ve posted in the past (read as: I’ve posted some really dark shit because I’ve been in some really dark places in the past). I don’t know everything, but I still want to be here to help others. I want to be here for people that are struggling with pain, and need some help. I want to be here for people that are hurting and don’t know how to start the process of healing. I want to be here for people that maybe don’t have the capability to get the help that they need, because they will never have the chance. I want to be the friend that I never had when I was younger. If I can do that, I’ll be happy. This might just be wishful thinking, but I really do want to be a bigger voice in the disabled community, in the mental health community, and in the LGBT+ community. I want to be part of something bigger.

So once again I will say: I’m Sava. I’m 22. I’m a triple A. I’m polyaffectionate. I’m disabled. And I want to help others and make a difference.

[the-bounce-back]

5 STEPS TO  EMOTIONAL DETACHMENT FROM TOXIC AND USELESS SOMEBODIES

Well, hello there. It’s been a slightly long minute… but I’m back with another banger for your headtops. A lot has happened since my (four month late) birthday post in which I said I was going to write more regularly… but you know what? I refuse to feel bad about it. We’re really in a whole pandemic, life is hurling curveballs at all of us at very disrespectful rates, and now the year is coming to an end very swiftly - like say it wasn’t June just a couple weeks ago. Yes, I’ve been feeling extremely unmotivated to come on here and give everyone a pEpTaLk about how ~*great*~ life is once you let go of everything that’s been holding you back - and that’s okay. I’ve decided to give myself a break instead of beating myself up over it, and can’t lie… I needed it. Besides - posting this post in particular now coincides nicely with releasing and purging all the drama that has been happening during this year before 2021 arrives, so let’s just pretend that the delay was intentional. Okay? Okay!

All jokes aside, I have been struggling a little with writing about this topic, because I really wanted to make sure I did it properly. If you read my never-ending birthday post (if not, read it here), you might remember that one of the points was that learning how to detach yourself from toxic people and situations is pretty much crucial for you to be able to fully let go of the past, to be able to move forward in life without any remorse or guilt, and to never revisit what used to be very painful situations ever again. As much as my own detachment jOuRnEy has been going relatively well, to say that the whole “letting things go and never revisiting them again” thing has proven to be quite the challenge would be the understatement of the century.

By quite the challenge, I mean a f*cking nightmare.

I’m sure many of you can relate when I say that having all this forced time off/downtime throughout the past year has made introspection, reflection and self-analysis pretty much inevitable. Even when you’re just trying to chill and binge watch your favourite box set for the gazillionth time as a distraction, eventually your thoughts catch up with you - forcing you to face certain things that were so easily ignored and avoidable when the outside was still open. 

When you spend so much time of a day in your thoughts (trying not to lose your mind from the boredom), it’s only natural to start evaluating your situation, relationships and state of mind. I can only speak for myself, but going from constantly being able to avoid certain thoughts and feelings to suddenly being brutally forced to sit with them ended up being the catalyst I needed to want to find a way to finally strip myself of all the painful baggage, situations and people that have been holding me back from moving forward in life. Aaaand cue the inevitable - but extremely necessary - discomfort that the detachment process brings.

Hella revelations. Hella difficult conversations. Hella growing pains. Hella tears. Hella ended relationships/friendships. The list goes on.

I realise that I’m not exactly selling the whole detachment thing very well, but let’s be very real - it is painful, and you definitely need to be in the correct headspace to even be able to admit to yourself that you’ve allowed a certain situation to go on for so long. I can’t even lie, living in denial and turning a blind eye to former fRiEnDs’ behaviours and how they treated me was a hell of a lot easier. I accidentally got into the habit of justifying and defending other peoples’ mistakes and sh*tty behaviours, no matter how much it hurt me in the process… all because I saw pOtEntIaL in them.

Bruh. Typing it out like this and reading it out to myself is even annoying me. Ya girl is pissed for letting this sh*t run because where was my logic? My critical thinking skills? Common sense? InTuItIoN that I claim to have?! Was my third eye asleep?!

Sigh. Let me relax. It is well… no point in beating myself up over it now. But still.

However - with that being said - I definitely feel like I had to put myself through a lot of that sh*t, because if I hadn’t I’d definitely still be clinging on to expired/toxic friendships and connections. Going through it really had me in a place of suspecting that everyone wanted to hurt me and/or take advantage of my kindness. Luckily, I met some amazing people along the way that reminded me that not everyone is trash, that I am deserving of genuine and real connections, and that I need to learn how to let go of people once they start moving all kinds of mad… enter the concept of detachment.

As you can probably tell from the ever so slightly passive-aggressive title - no, I haven’t fully mastered the art of detachment… yet. I definitely have a long way to go before I can commit to the last couple of steps of the process, because as a chronic overthinker that looooves to analyse past situations and an eMpAtH that hates giving up on people, simply ~*letting go*~ is infinitely more easier said than done… but definitely not impossible. It really is an ongoing process, and I can tell you from now that you will revert back into the toxic mindsets that lead you to your current situation at least 1000 times along the way… but what’s important is learning how to g-check yourself, remind yourself why you are doing this and to keep it pushing no matter what.

Anyways. Without further ado, keep on reading to find out how to leave your d*ckhead exes, fake-ass friends and painful memories in 2020, so you can move forward into 2021 with love, light, a clean slate, peace of mind and all that other corny and cringe sh*t that we all crave - and never look back. Enjoy!

1. Set a very concrete reason why you want to start the detachment process.

Usually, this is a no-brainer. Most likely, the person you’ve decided you want to detach from has just done or said something unforgivable that makes you feel sick for ever even being associated with them. Or, you’ve clocked a series of minor violations that have built up over time… and one more tiny violation pushes you over the edge and makes you lose your head. Either way, it works as a catalyst to make you finally realise just how little respect they have for you, your feelings or your mental health.

However, there are certain situations where the reason may not be as clear as “she f*cked my ex” or “he stole £5k from my account” - sometimes, it’s literally just a gut feeling that someone doesn’t have your best interests at heart the way you have for them. Regardless, it is important to remember that any and all reasons to want to let someone go are valid, and you don’t owe anybody an explanation. This is your healing process and journey, and you’re the one that’s going to have to deal with the pain of it - so anyone that has any remarks on how/why/when you do it can choke, because what’s their own?

With that being said, it is imperative to make sure that the reason is strong enough for you to be able to stick to the process - because believe me when I say that there will be times where you’ll start asking yourself if you’re overreacting, if it’s really that deep, you’re being too sEnSiTiVe or being too radical. These thoughts are either a way for our mind to avoid having to process a lot of sh*t that will probably be very emotionally painful to work through, or a result of being gaslighted and being told that it’s nothing serious. In those cases, a strong reason should be enough to keep you reminded of why you are putting yourself through this process. It should keep you going, and help you find yourself on your darkest days when you just want to give up.

For me, determining a good reason that I know I will stick to became easier over time, because I realised that really delving deep into the root cause of the issue makes everything so much clearer. For example - yes, while Lucy shagging your ex and then meeting up with you for drinks is violation enough, chances are that if you dig deeper, you’ll realise that there’s been repeated pattern of her not respecting you as a friend, disregarding your feelings and not caring about how her actions affect you. In instances like this, it becomes easier to commit to cutting them out of your life, because it’s not just a “one-off” violation, if that makes sense.

The bottom line is that regardless of what the reason is, it should be a clear indication that you are choosing you. Your mental health, your sanity, your energy, your present and your future - and why would you want to jeopardize any of these for someone that clearly doesn’t appreciate your worth?

2. Find healthy coping methods to release your emotions.

I’ll be honest with you - the beginning of the detachment process is definitely the most difficult part, emotionally speaking. Yes, the whole journey is hard, but it’s in the beginning where you have to adapt to not speaking to this person anymore, not seeing them anymore, and having to force yourself to establish heavy boundaries with them… which will most likely be met with reactions that will make you want to respond in some way. Just because you know someone isn’t good for you anymore, doesn’t mean that your old feelings for the person just magically evaporate into nothing. 

As much as you may hate to admit it to others and even yourself, you’re going to be hurting. And pain has a way of pushing us to find coping methods to release these emotions - or not have to deal with them at all.

Trust me, as much as I understand and can personally attest to that coping methods that numb your senses may feel like the best option at the time, the truth is that they do nothing for your personal growth. Sure, sometimes you just don’t want to feel - but what happens when you’re sober again? The feelings come right back - and now you’re really playing a dangerous game that can lead to spiralling, health problems and addiction. In the long run, you rarely end up feeling any better.

Healthy coping mechanisms look different for everyone, but there are definitely a few that are universal and can be good for pretty much anyone regardless of the specifics of the situation. 

Talking to someone you trust (or a therapist). Working out. Indulging (heavily) in self-care. Doing things that bring you joy. Finding a creative outlet that you can pour all your feelings into… like a mental health blog(!). The possibilities are endless if you stay open minded and genuinely want to get better.

For those that may be stuck in that dark place where literally nothing will make you feel better (except maybe the person you’re trying to detach from… gets like that sometimes), or you feel like your energy is extremely limited - try to set one goal for the day. Just the one. Even if it is just tidying your room, taking a shower or doing the dishes. Setting minor goals that you realistically feel are achievable - and achieving them - are very helpful in gradually building up the confidence in yourself that you will get past this part of your life. And that goes for all situations in life that are heavy -  not just the detachment process.

3. Find ways to keep your mind in the present and on the future. 

So, you’ve started to begrudgingly get used to the fact that the person isn’t going to be around in your life anymore. You might even have started to realise how much your stress-levels have reduced, and begun to realise that this whole process was an excellent idea. However… not quite enough time has passed for you to be fully immersed in your journey, and you still think about them pretty much all the time. You’re feeling like a nitty trying to cope without crack for the first time in years, and that’s okay.

While it is important to allow yourself to fully acknowledge your feelings and mourn the loss of what used to be a very strong connection, you definitely owe it to yourself to try your best to remain present during this time. As tempting as dramatically starting out the window while it rains and thinking about them - like you’re in a music video - may sound, doing this is guaranteed to keep you firmly lodged in the past, and very stagnant in life… and we don’t want that. 

Just do a couple songs to get the dramatics out of your system, then get ready to boss the f*ck up.

Now might feel like the worst possible time to start something new, especially since your emotions are probably all over the place and you’re finding it hard to focus on little else. But trust me when I say that this is exactly why you need to do it - you need to reclaim your life by putting yourself back into the main focus of it. And what better way to do it than starting a project you’ve always wanted to do, but haven’t because of insecurities and/or self-doubt?

Regardless of if it’s pursuing a new hobby or even starting your own business, having an activity that brings you joy, challenges you and pushes you to set and exceed goals for yourself is imperative at this kind of time in your life. While a lot of the detachment process is pretty much trying to force yourself not to think about someone - thus making you want to think about them even more - having a passion project is a healthy way of willingly keeping your mind in the present and on your future. This, because you’ll constantly be looking for ways to improve your skills for yourself and your success in life.

Personally speaking, this blog was the perfect passion project for me back when I started my own detachment process. It still is - despite my inconsistency in writing, there actually isn’t a day that goes by without me thinking about future posts and what messages I want to share with whoever ends up reading it. However, since my writing does involve a lot of reflecting on past situations, I’ve decided to expand my creativity and start selling my art (check it out here, we love a cheeky and shameless self plug!). Focusing mostly on drawing, getting more involved in the art community, investing in art supplies and researching drawing methods lately has definitely made me more present and motivated… and I’ll even go as far as saying that I’ve forgotten about the people I’m detaching from at times.

The point I’m trying to make is that doing something you enjoy for your own mental wellbeing is one of the most rewarding parts of this whole detachment palaver. When you fully deep how much of your time that used to be spent worrying and stressing yourself out over someone trash, and focus that time on something creative that actually benefits you and makes you feel better about yourself, you’ll soon find yourself asking yourself why you didn’t start earlier.

Of course, it is important to remember that while feeling passionate and motivated in your creative/business ventures after feeling like sh*t for so long is a great thing, you should still make room for sitting with your feelings from time to time. Especially in the beginning. There’s a very, very fine line between using a hobby to empower and uplift yourself, and using it as a distraction to not think or feel at all. At the end of the day, it’s all about finding a good balance that takes into account where you currently are in your healing process - over time you’ll realise that you won’t need as many “days off” to be in your feelings, and trust me… that realisation and feeling is phenomenal.

4. Forgive and heal.

I just love how I’ve bunched these two together into one cute little step like they’re not the hardest part of the process. In theory, forgiving someone for yourself (not for their benefit) makes a lot of sense, but let’s be honest… a lot of us lie to both others and ourselves when we say we’ve moved on and forgiven them. 

I, for one, can confidently say that most people I’ve claimed to have fOrGiVeN still live in the deepest parts of my mind rent free. They might not be present all the time in the way that they used to since I started the detachment process, but once I get in my feelings their presence is often there as strong as ever… and this is okay. Of course you’re not going to magically forget how someone treated you just because you’re committed to moving on, but there comes a certain point where you realise that all you’re doing is going round and round in circles in your mind, while time is just passing you by. Think about it - how many hours of your life do you reckon you have spent in bed, staring at the ceiling dramatically while fuming over a situation in which you were done dirty?

If you’re anything like me, the answer is BARE. And don’t even get me started on how the amount of hours increased more than tenfold during the lockdown because I couldn’t even distract myself properly.

Actual footage of me re-deeping a vio at 4 am.

But as much as lamenting to yourself about how much sh*t you’ve let slide and how you’re never going to let yourself be treated like that again is healing in itself, at some point you literally feel yourself losing the plot from replaying the situation in your head so much.

This is a sign that it’s time to heal and truly move on. It’s time to evict them from your mind… because they have millions of pounds in rent arrears at this point… and that can’t run, because what kind of disrespect?! You deserve better than shitty tenants, or worse - squatters.

Ok, enough with the renting comparisons because I can’t concentrate while chuckling to myself. The thing about healing and moving forward is that there is no one size fits all solution that works for everyone, so all I can really do is speak for myself and hopefully provide some tools that you can use to tailor your own healing journey. 

This is going to sound very dramatic and depressing - because it is - but I’ve noticed that for me, the past creeps into my mind in the form of happy memories and good times… inevitably making me reminisce about people that used to mean a lot to me. This might not seem like anything harmful - surely there’s nothing wrong with reliving some good times in your head, right?

Wrong. For me, it starts off all cute and positive - but then my mind starts to wander. I start to remember other memories with the person. The bad memories that made me not want to have them in my life anymore. The memories in which I realised exactly how worthless, disrespected and unappreciated they made me feel… and what was meant to be happy reminiscing turns into either sadness or frustration, because now I have to re-open their case to really make sense of how much they had me f*cked up back then. Aaand before I know it, hours upon hours of angry analysing have passed by. Time that I’ll never get back, which will never sit right with me.

The way I’ve managed to combat this is by throwing myself into my own self-growth and self-love journey. In simple terms, placing all my focus on my mental wellbeing, my future goals and personal development makes it gradually easier to leave the past in the past - because the more I evolve, the less I associate myself with past versions of myself where I may not have been as strong, secure and assertive, as reminding myself of my worth has made me now. I can now understand and accept why I chose not to see the disrespect at the time - usually because of my former attachment issues, or because I deluded myself into thinking that the person cared the same way I did. El oh el.

Basically, I realised that a lot of my attachments to these toxic people came from a place of unresolved trauma, lack of validation and low self-worth. Once I identified these issues and started working through them, I noticed that placing my focus on understanding myself instead of someone else made things easier to cope with - because while I’ll never fully understand how someone else's mind works, I can work on understanding mine because I’m literally in it 24/7, 365. 

In other words, healing and forgiveness is all about YOU and your development, and has very little to do with the other person in the long run.

Another large part of the forgiveness process for me is dedicating some time to use what I know about the person that I’m trying to detach from to understand the “bigger picture” of why they treated me the way that they did. A vast majority of cases just made me realise that their actions, thought processes and ideas were literally just a series of trauma responses and projections that they weren’t aware of - or were aware of, but refused to address.

Either way, this is where my empathetic nature works in my favour - because I know what it’s like to not be able to swallow your pride and deny certain negative aspects of yourself. Admitting that you’ve been in the wrong and that you need to heal takes a great deal of self-awareness and humility - traits that the people I’ve dealt with definitely do not embody. The unfortunate truth is that a lot of people might even live their whole life deluding themselves that they are okay, that their actions don’t hurt others and that they are not to blame for anything. When I realised this, I noticed that a lot of my anger started to fade - and I started to pity them instead, making forgiveness slightly easier. What’s important to remember here is that while pity can make you want to bE tHeRe for the person and help them heal, it’s actually very much their personal journey. You can’t help someone that doesn’t realise they need it, or that doesn’t want to be helped - so all you can do is leave them to it and focus on your own life.

Another important aspect of forgiveness and healing is remembering that it is inherently an act of self-care, and not a service you’re doing to the other person. You’re not “letting them off easy”, “letting sh*t slide”, or “letting them win” by choosing to not allow the situation poison your thoughts, feelings and present anymore. You’re choosing your mental health, sanity and future - all very valid reasons for jUsT LeTtInG gO, if you ask me.

“But Liv! How do I know that I am truly ready to move forward? And how do I know that these feelings won’t come back and re-trigger me in the future, despite all this effort I’ve put into healing now?”

Excellent questions. I wish I had better answers... but the harsh truth for both is that you don’t. You have no idea what’s going to happen, how people are going to act, what will remind you of the situation or what is going to trigger you. You have zero control over the situation, and you’ll come to the ugly realisation that the world, in fact, doesn’t revolve around you and your comfort and mental health.

I know, right? Imagine my shock, horror and surprise when I realised this.

The truth is that life is going to keep throwing cute little triggering curveballs at you, and the only thing you can truly control is how you react to it. You can choose to let it poison your mind and mood… or you can simply sit with it, allow it to pass without attaching emotions to it, and then keep it pushing when you’re ready to.

I’d definitely argue that this part of the process is the hardest to achieve - especially when you’re an emotional drama Queen like myself. However, once you get to that point where you can let your triggers and memories pass without affecting the present… you’ve pretty much won, because nothing can rattle you anymore. You become truly unf*ckwithable, and I can’t wait until I get to this stage of my process. 

In the meantime, it’s all about constantly reminding yourself to stay in the present, because life will keep going on regardless of where your mind is at.

5. Be grateful for the process and do not look back.

I know, I know - feeling gratitude when you’re neck-deep in the sh*t is infinitely easier said than done. When you’re there ugly crying in the mirror, the last thing on your mind is going to be “Aw, look how much I’ve grown! I love that for myself! Well done, me!”. However, when you’re all exhausted, cried out and feel that zen feeling afterwards (you know what I’m on about), take time to acknowledge that while it feels like it’s never going to end now, one day you’ll be able to make your peace with what happened and that it will never happen again. 

Be grateful to yourself over your resilience, how much you’ve learnt and how highly you must regard yourself for pushing yourself through this whole experience - because as you know by now, it is extremely hard.

When you can learn to see past the pain and emotional distress this whole process has caused you and find silver linings that you can be grateful for, it’s finally time to start looking towards never looking back on the situation ever again. Or, at the very least, being able to think about it without attaching any emotion to it, and just letting the thoughts pass by without any judgement before gently bringing yourself back to the present and getting on with your happier, stress-free life. Sometimes it can be easy to romanticize an old connection when a lot of time has passed, and you start to forget why you were so angry and hurt in the first place. In these cases, it’s important to remind yourself of why letting go and keeping it pushing is so important for your growth. Here are some things I like to consider when I feel myself spending too much time on memory lane, reminiscing and lowkey wishing I hadn’t been emotionally intelligent enough to recognise I needed to move forward:

Where would I be - emotionally and mentally - right now if I hadn’t decided to put myself first?

If I met someone new that reminds me of the person I’m detaching from, how would I react?

How have my current friendships and other relationships changed since deciding to focus on detachment and healing?

When comparing my past state of mind to my current one, what has changed in regard to how I view myself? How I view relationships/friendships? 

How has pushing myself being the best version of myself set me up for future relationships, friendships and generations (if I end up having kids)?

Spoiler alert: I can tell you now that you will realise that you have grown so much without even realising it. Seemingly behind your own back, you’ve become a self-aware, self-loving, no-sh*t-taking, confident powerhouse that would rather have all your toenails slowly extracted before even considering letting someone get away with disrespecting you ever again. You will realise that everyone currently in your life is there because you want them to be - not because you need them in any way. They’re there because they love and support you the way you deserve to be - but you know that if anyone was to act up, it’s curtains… because now you know that anyone that doesn’t consider your mental health and happiness important has no place in your life. And that’s on Tampax Compak Super Plus.

I want to end this post with a personal story from my own detachment process. As those of you that have been reading my blog for a long time know, one of the biggest reasons why I even started this blog in the first place was to have an outlet for my emotions and to help myself to heal after a bad breakup. 

When I say I thought I was going to die, I’m not even being dramatic or exaggerating. I legit thought that I would never be able to move past it, or get over him. Back then - despite having a decent background in psychology and understanding the importance of expressing my emotions - I chose to bottle things up (except for in therapy) and turned to unhealthy coping methods so I didn’t have to feel so much. I can’t lie… life was very sh*t, and I honestly struggled to see the point of even being alive anymore.

Fast forward about a year - I made the conscious decision to take responsibility for my healing and detachment, because I realised that holding on to someone that hurt me so badly wasn’t healthy. Deciding to let go of all the promises we made to each other, the memories and good times is hands down one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but I realised that just clinging onto the past just because of familiarity was not the one. Plus, at this point I had started to be able to admit to myself that the relationship was never as perfect as I had made it out to be in my head - making it easier and easier to gradually let go. I begrudgingly continued the healing and detachment process, winging it and hoping for the best.

Major time skip to just a few months ago - I’m literally just at home, chilling, minding my business. All of that. I went on the calendar app on my phone to check something, when it suddenly hit me that what would’ve been our seven year anniversary had passed a few days before… and I hadn’t even noticed. A date that used to mean so much to me and get me in my feelings just a year before, had now completely slipped my mind.

What’s more is that when I clocked it… I felt nothing. Nada. Zilch. And that’s when I fully realised how oblivious I had been to the bigger picture of my healing journey, because the sudden apathy towards a situation that really had me considering if life was even worth it anymore really came as a surprise. Even now, as I’m writing this and am clearly thinking about how dirty I got done… I feel nothing besides how proud I am of myself, and I love that for myself.

If I - THEE most sentimental, dramatic and emotional woman on the planet - can get there, trust me… you definitely can too. I had to figure out the “formula” for myself, but now that I’ve given it to you, you literally have no excuse for not letting that toxic and useless somebody hurt you anymore. Get to it! 

With that being said, I wish you a happy, stress-free, peaceful and self-loving 2021, because you deserve it. I can’t wait to share my new ideas with you in the new year, so I’ll see you on the oThEr SiDe.

Love,

Liv

[hobohumanitarian6]

This is a long post so please be warned!!! I need to get some things off my chest....

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING POSSIBLE⚠️

Feedback to this post is open-ended. You cannot offend me and will not be blocked.

⭐ So here's the thing: one of my late grandmother's friends just posted that her 29 year old son died in his sleep with seemingly no explanation. This really shook me I guess. For one, I used to hang out with this kid during the summers a lot. My specific memories are very vague, but deep in my consciousness I know that I have called him friend in the past. For another, many things lately have been prompting me to ask the difficult questions ie

Why in the fuck am I here?

What's the meaning of it all?

When is my life going to get better?

How do I prepare myself for better things?

Am I blocking me or is something else blocking me?

What am I doing wrong that the universe doesn't think I'm ready for a new chapter?

Am I really with the right person?

What about the afterlife?

Am I going to be silenced or speak out?

What if I can't do some of things I want/dreamed of?

What is going to satisfy me if my future doesn't go as planned?

⭐ I've been doing quite a bit of soul searching through all of this, established the framework of the person I want to be and

BAM! 🧱 💥 🏃🏻‍♀️

Straight into a fucking. Brick. Wall.

⭐ I am in one of the worst continental states in the US (by even statistic) and before all of the shutdown and pandemic began, I had plans to be relocated with my new job, a place to call home & reunited with family by June 1st. Clearly that didn't happen....

⭐ I am spending $900 a month for a 250 ft² motel room just so I am not out on the streets.

Homelessness. Can we talk about that for a second? People getting arrested for being out past curfew because they don't have a place to go, put in jail because they're in the way, not tested or treated for the virus because they generally have no insurance, giving people loads of food stamps so the emergency assistance funding is broke-

600 dollars of groceries is a lot if you have a fridge, freezer, microwave, oven, toaster, etc not if you have to buy your food from overpriced convenience stores and gas stations and fresh food from grocery stores that 70% of the price is for the packaging it comes with!!

Soup kitchens closing because they don't want to risk contamination. Who's feeding those without a hot meal? Do they realize malnourishment is the quickest way to get sick with any pathogen!?

Shelters closed because of overpopulation. Domestic violence homes turning battered women and children away because there's too scarce of resources and funding. Yet people care about big corporations going bankrupt? Please tell me what the difference is between a goddamn human fucking life and a couple lawsuits because you didn't know how to prepare for an ever-changing economy.

Thank the universe i am sheltered with minimal resources to take care of myself and I have a steady job due to an enormous company's "chance on a down-in-the-dumps contractor." This job I have held steadily for a year despite chronic health issues has been the best thing to happen to me by far in a long time. I am definitely not by any means complaining about my job or that I even have life necessities right now. Several million don't have that.

⭐ The problem with this state is there are no resources for a person who's struggling to make an honest living. I lost my apartment two years ago because I had to take a medical leave of absence at my job then, got behind on rent and was evicted without a chance to catch up. The power was cut three nights before I had to leave, and I owe a deposit on the electric company to get any type of service back in my name. The realty company who owns the apartment complex will not allow a payment plan without a fraction of the principle paid down, so therefore I cannot apply for private or realty housing and I have been on the waiting list for federal housing assistance for 3 years without a single word. I also had my bank card stolen with my ID when I was trying to catch a bus to work a few weeks after that so whoever it was made small purchases that my bank applied interest and late charges to so that is also standing in debt. Thank universe my current employer allows direct deposit to a savings account at a bad credit institution or I'd be royally fucked.

⭐ Before I made the hard decision to doll out almost a G a month just for a room, I tried sleeping in my pickup. I even took the effort to pallet it for a platform bed & make benches to live in free campgrounds, cemeteries, truck stops, boonie dead ends, and behind abandoned buildings. I had a 12V converter that I connected to a rice cooker and made a tin can stove to grill small portions of meat on a single-egg mini skillet. I kept getting chased off by rangers, cops, annoying people trying to do crack and not get their lives better, and eventually violently detained for "suspicious activity" - I was thrown on the ground, put in handcuffs, patted down by a male officer with no female present, searched my vehicle without consent & written a citation: this was 2 am, I had a campsite reservation, I was clearly sleeping & my vehicle was current. The officers did not give me their name or numbers so I could not make a report.

⭐ I have chronic health issues - hip dysplasia & hyper mobility (not severe enough to be EDS), anemia, rexhia (NOT PRO ANYTHING), pre diabetes, H.S, BPD, PTSD, endometriosis & chronic migraines. I have filed time and time and time again for medical assistance but have always been denied. Every time I try to see a doctor, they claim I have this-or-that infection caused by this-or-that disorder, sent to an overpriced pharmacy with illness-irritating antibiotics that just keep me in an unending cycle of flares and barely-managable pain. Do not let anyone privileged or wealthy confuse you - you are not treated the same if you don't have coverage. Sorry to say but it is indeed a fact.

⭐ With this job I work 40-50 hours a week, eat as healthy as I can on a dime sized budget, and cover all my expenses. Yet I cannot move forward in this state on to better things. I want so badly to have a family, to go to college, etc but I cannot do this with living month to month someplace that isn't even my own.

⭐ The emotional affect this has had on me is tremendous. I am embarrassed of my situation, and never allow any guests in fear they'd judge me. I never take any photographs, which is heartbreaking because it has been one of my long-time hobbies. I am extremely guarded and I lie about small details to protect myself. I have severe trust issues and I always hold a dagger at my waist because I have to assume any minute you'll pull out a Glock.

⭐ Naturally I am an empath and this has brought me more compassion and understanding than I ever thought possible. The police brutality against people of color and racism in socio-economic programs truly breaks my heart because as a white female and all the struggles and discrimination I've endured, I can only begin to understand it's 1000x harder for people of color especially. I stand behind your protests 100%. I beseech you, go fight for what you deserve! I will be begging higher powers for your protection indefinitely!

⭐ I have gained a new perspective on non-profit organizations and volunteer work. Some are truly amazing and their stories move people to tears; others are truly wicked stealing from the poor, embezzling cash flow for their own vanities. Please please please research the charity you are interested in thoroughly before getting involved. Volunteer work will always be appreciated- and will teach you many invaluable lessons. If you help these organizations and need help yourself: respect yourself, hold yourself high, and ask for the assistance. They will generally be more inclined to help. If you are turned away, try not to be bitter. Administrators only do as they see fit.

⭐ That's another thing - bitterness. This has been the most vile and roughest character default I've ever had to battle with myself. When you've been through the shit and you can't see the sewer (sts) it's so easy to stay in the dumps. It's so easy to feel entitled because you've clawed your way to the top. It's easy to feel angry with everyone because it's you vs the system. It's so fucking easy to give up completely and stop trying and just lay down and die. It's easy to step in front of a two ton bus, oncoming freight train, taking the entire package of extra strength Excedrin not because you have a migraine, but just not to feel a thing, go completely numb for one single second. It's easy to go down to the head shop and get a nickel bag of weed to chill and get a 5$ pizza and forget you have responsibilities.

IT'S SO FUCKING TOUGH MAN

⭐ Growing up strictly religious, I tend to shy away from Christianity or other "preachy religion" now. I hate having Jesus shoved down my throat at a service before a hot meal on a Tuesday night and the "speaker" automatically assuming I need to stop smoking crack and going to jail and get my life back on track and God will bless me when I'm in the 46% who has never been to county and hold a job while trying to get back on my feet.

ADDICTION IS NOT POVERTY GUYS

I still support people who go to church and speak in tongues if that satisfies them. I still support people who are strictly vegetarian and make a pilgrimage to the mecca if that satisfies them. I still support people who have 7 two week long feasts a year for something that happened 4000 years ago if that satisfies them. I still support people who believe in baptisms for the dead and not drinking coffee if that satisfies them. I still support people who call Jesus the Nazarene and believe that Lucifer the Dark Lord will prevail if that satisfies them. I still support people who call down the power of the moon into their plant babies and give thanks to the triple goddess if that satisfies them. I support religion or practices of all kinds.

I believe I was meant to be tolerant and be good to others. That this life will give back what you put in. That there is a higher power that governs all and it is up to you to determine just what that is to you. Not to tell people what is wrong with their lives just based on your personal story.

⭐ During this pandemic, I have done a lot of soul searching. Journaling, listening to podcasts, listening to seminars on values I'd never know existed, trying to discover who I am. This journey has included empathy training, reiki, yoga, somatic movement, feldenkrais methods, and astral meditation. I just have a list of these questions I'd like answered or given suggestions to:

What do you believe is the meaning of life? Is there any philosophers, speakers, teachers, theologians, writers, musicians etc that can help answer this?

What is your definition of religion in it's rawest form?

Do you know of any resources I may not have thought of?

Is there any criticism you can give good or bad?

Am I focused on one thing and neglecting another?

Do you have any further opinions on the topics listed above?

Do you have a suggestion of the next right step?

Do you have ideas on how I can help with the aforementioned problems?

How do I stop feeling like I'm wasting my time?

How do I find contentment in everything should I die tomorrow?

What is your opinion of the afterlife?

How do you find happiness in the midst of bullshit?

What did a friend/relative/mentor tell you when you were going through an existential crisis?

Have you felt trapped too? Due to the covid or otherwise?

Any curse words, songs, books, movies, etc of use?

🌸🌸I sincerely appreciate any feedback 🌸🌸