#turns out.......socialising........is good for my mental health?

[ineffectualdemon]

My mental health has been above a 5 for over a week now

Things that helped improve it in no particular order:

- not having tiktok

- turning off anon asks

- limiting replies (I'm going to unlimit it soon tho)

- being on Tumblr less

- getting more sleep

- keeping a log where I just do bullet points of things that I did that day or that happened that were memorable. Makes even low spoons days better

- getting my grade back on my last assignment and having it be good enough that I'm confident I can pass my module now

- booking the private therapist for a mental tune up

- deciding I need more real world socialisation and finding a local crochet group ← this is a big one

- deciding to talk to my best friend weekly over discord so we actually talk out loud and not just through text (we were on the call for 4 hours yesterday. I love her so much) ← this is also a big one

- probably the weather

- deciding to at least get mostly dressed in clothing that isn't pjs most days ← this is vital

- watching an episode of star trek TOS most weeks

It's going okay right now. I'm pretty happy about it

[multishipperbish]

rotating the idea of a Jalph soulmate AU inside my head

but not a traditional fix-it soulmate AU where they find each other and immediately fall in love and all is well that goes well. What about that "first words are tattooed somewhere on their body" AU where Ralph has "Where's the man with the trumpet?" on his arm and Jack has "There's no man with a trumpet. Only me." on his leg.

What if they meet each other for the first time and they're friends. What if Jack betrays Ralph and they start hating the words on them. What if Ralph covers his arm with mud and Jack his leg with blood. They're hesitant to clean up when they're on the boat back home. During future confrontations their eyes wander and they meet gazes and just know what the other's thinking : what if we could have made it work?

It's the 1950s so obviously they're not thinking about being in a relationship. Maybe the media normalises platonic soulmates. Maybe not; maybe their parents told them they'd better have female soulmates or else. Maybe after their first meeting, Ralph looks at his arm every now and then and feels a deep discomfort in his stomach but he tells himself it's fine as long as they're on the island because nobody's going to bother them about it. Maybe Jack starts wearing longer pants after the island because his father found out and started hassling him about finding the girl who'd speak about a trumpet, however strange she may sound.

And maybe then they're back in school and undergoing therapy (probably not cause the 1950s were yikes about mental health but it'd nice to think about) they see their soulmarks and the feeling of longing from before the island comes back. "If only I could find them I'd be whole" turns to "If only I'd handled it better". They wish it could have worked. They wish they could have stayed friends. If only it had gone differently. Right person wrong time. Because if they're soulmates obviously their souls are going to feel like something's missing their whole lives now that they've found each other and they're apart, so add to that the PTSD and whatever else is going on inside their heads, the poor boys will not be having a good time.

Maybe Jack feels the pull of the hunt after the island (because I personally headcanon that he's lived pretty repressed beforehand due to his strict parents and the island gave him freedom he's never had before; the hunt was an amalgamation of all the stress that comes from having an overbearing successful Father with a capital F melting off his bones) AND the pull of the soul. Maybe he meets people with fair hair and the most gorgeous smile and he wants to vomit because he remembers the blood on his hands. Maybe Ralph is trying to socialise at school and he sees parts of Jack in everyone he meets. Maybe Ralph tells himself to shut up about his missing half, he doesn't have it that bad, just look at Simon and Piggy and the mulberry kid! at least he's not dead! (don't do that kids. that's a horrible coping mechanism. seek professional help) and still he goes to church and hears the choir and wonders if Jack still sings.

I dunno it's just an idea!! I am not done yapping about this. Will add on through reblogs if needed

[eggzspider]

my thoughts on homeschooling/unschooling as a previously homeschooled child now in education

for reference when reading i went into alternative education aged 14, mainstream education aged 16 and am currently 18.

lowkey i think homeschooling was awesome for me. but i am also very aware that a whole lot of parents homeschool for entirely the wrong reasons. bc religion/alternative beliefs are quite big where im from, a lot of parents have this calling from god to neglect their kids idk. my mother definitely fell victim to a lot of these mindsets, especially since the lockdowns, as she became super entrenched in conspiracy theories, and being a "truther" (??) but my dad is very conventional so i think i got lucky in that. both my parents made sure i was seeing people and socialising as well as doing decently well academically.

all that being said, i think a lot of my positive experience is to do with my generally being academically inclined anyway. when i entered education, i didn't struggle to keep up, and after adjusting i found school/college a really good environment. this most definitely does not go for other families though. a lot of the other homeschooled kids I've known have found adjusting to that environment really difficult, especially regarding self regulation, and just generally making this huge switch from "child led learning" to the structure of classroom learning and such. what i did find difficult was not being able to play into my strengths, eg i am a good artist and writer, but i suck at maths and sciences, and normally that wouldn't have even occurred to me, if i found something boring (long division) i just wouldn't do it and would find something fun (write more or draw or wtv) to do. this uneven kind of education did mean that i ended up resitting various exams, which did do some deeply evil things to my self esteem/mental health

socially, i do feel very .. idk . weird ?? i dont think that being homeschooled makes you into a genuine socially inept outcast, if youre a cool person and not a dick people dgaf, but i do also think that ive missed out on a lot of experiences that other people my age had. when i entered education, i hadnt really had much experience of pop culture, an didn't really get a lot of jokes and things which did result in some generally quite minor bulling when i was in my mid teens. i think i have a lot more independence, but i think that might be just a me thing, as i also knew kids who literally wouldn't leave their rooms bc they were so unused to being around other people. aside from that i also think i have less of an inclination to follow trends, and get super wrapped up in social politics. i am just generally alternative, culturally, musically, artistically whatever, but i do blame this on the homeschooling, most of the adults i was around were very conscious of things like consumerism, capitalism, and environmental awareness which influenced me a lot. it amazes me on the regular that people are so genuinely uncaring about these things, and how culturally sterile a lot of people are. being able to seek out my own entertainment without peer pressure or a curriculum to follow got me to explore a lot of things (esp the arts) in my own time, and get some really deep understandings of things that i wouldn't have learned in school, but have really helped me now I'm finishing college, (uk init) and starting to prepare for university.

on top of this a lot A LOT of homeschooled kids are queer. like and insane proportion. turns out if you don't have a constant threat of bullying, or unwanted outing, you will be so much more inclined experiment with gender and sexuality without fear and repression. im transmasc and queer, and have received virtually no harassment or discrimination from other homeschooled kids or their families. even super fundamental families who homeschool to make sure their kids dont learn about dinosaurs and transsexuals are honestly remarkably chill.

so yeahg i think homeschooling is. ok. not for everyone. i think a good way to think of it from a parents perspective is "is my kid going to be in a better environment in mainstream education? are they going to be better off socially as well as educationally? are there things that school can offer that i cant, and vice versa?" and preferably not "aha yes you will stay at home forever to skin rabbits and say scriptures."

TLDR: i loved being homeschooled bc it made me a pseudointellectual aesthetically minded art freak. homeschool your kid if you want a peculiar homosexual child with PLUR values and an educational minmax build but you must unfortunately have a lot of time on your hands and resist brainwashing your child at all costs. peace and love.

[hedghost]

hey mate, i’ve just graduated from high school and now i feel like i’m useless, like what i do now? of course i’ll keep on with my studies but i feel left out, all my friends do “normal” universities, and mine is not like less hard, but trains in a more professional way so i can hopefully get a job (i do illustration) and i mostly do the projects from home, i have 2 days of lesson for week

but idk, everyone around me is getting a job while they do uni, the have drive licence and i feel left out, i don’t have any of this and i don’t feel the necessity of them, i don’t want to rush to do things but then i remember that in a couple of months i’m turning 20

do you have any advice?

don't worry, a lot of people feel this way!! its such a hard transitional period of your life and dealing with it can be really hard. the best advice i can give is that so many people feel the same, i know i did, but honestly the best thing you can do is put yourself out there, surround yourself with good people, become comfortable with yourself, and trust that you're on the right path for you. once you can appreciate yourself and your own company more, that sense of independence will come with it, and at some point you'll stop and realise that actually, you're exactly where you need to be. everyone takes different routes to get to where they're meant to go, and there's no one right way to study, or to get a career, or go to university. 20 feels old but i promise you, you'll look back and think about how young you were, experience comes with time and you have a whole life to do all that stuff, don't stress about it. i know its hard when everyone seems to be on a different path to you, but just trust that you're doing what's right for you.

i went to uni as a completely different person i am now, with no hope for the future, no self-confidence, and honestly absolute dogshit mental health. it takes time, but at some point i promise you'll realise that you're doing the exact right thing.

if you want, i guess, 'practical' advice i'd say work on stuff outside of uni that makes you feel good! whether that's like a hobby or a sport, or something creative, or just focusing on socialising, or relaxing, or making new friends, or spending time with yourself, or getting a drivers license, anything at all. find yourself a little corner of the world we're you can feel good, and the rest will follow!

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Okay so I’ve been going through mental hell the entire day

I fell asleep after getting home because I just

Wasn’t capable of watching something yet

Since waking up I’ve prayed and managed to eat Iftar and then prayed Magrib

And since then I have been stuck sitting on my bed and I think maybe I need to vent this out

Tw: PTSD symptoms/trauma and mental health discussion

Okay!

So this is what I mean when I say PTSD is a physical disability (and this is my experience it’s probably mixed somewhat with whatever other issues I have)

No sleep! Lack of sleep!

Mental noise

(Wait it gets worse)

Flashbacks to traumatic events

Can’t stand or walk

Can’t breathe (I’m literally having to remind myself right now every 20 seconds to BREATHE)

Throwing up

Cold symptoms! Yes you can work your entire body into a faux fever doing this! Currently I’m shivering shaking and rocking while it feels like my veins are turning into fire

Headaches

Can’t think due to mental noise - hence can’t function

I’ve attempted to eat but that has a 50/50 chance of coming back up as I mentioned before and typically you lose your appetite anyway!

A LOT of crying (only I am such a repressed person I get an overdose of the other symptoms and no crying)

Hallucinations!

Extreme exhaustion (read: nap earlier)

How are these disabling? In case you haven’t figured it out

You can’t do ANYTHING while dealing with the slew of symptoms here and these can crop up on their own unprompted by environment! I cannot stand breathe or walk, I can’t socialise so I can’t seek help! I can’t go to friends and ask for help! I can’t work! I can’t study! Clean! Can’t take care of my house and space! I can’t speak (somehow I’m managing to write this purely because it’s venting and also text is easier but it’s a lot like screaming inside your own head) I cannot do basic acts of self care all I can do

Is lie here

And scream inside my head :D

I could scream outside of it, the house is empty except for me, but pfft did I mention the repression?

Okay so why am I making this post?

Because I went 22 years before seeing a therapist and have them confirm what I was too polite and repressed to check which is whether I have ptsd or not

I can’t give you a formal diagnosis, hell even my therapist can’t give me one, that comes from a psychiatrist which can mean going through hell and high water

I’m telling you this so that you can know 1. You don’t need a formal diagnosis to get help and 2. If you fit all of these categories and have these symptoms and you DON’T have PTSD, you have some other mental disability?

Screw it it’s still a disability which means you’re still suffering which means you deserve to know YES THAT IS A BROKEN SOMETHING YOU’RE WALKING ON AND YES YOU SHOULD BE SCREAMING SHOUTING AND KICKING IT’S COMPLETELY OKAY AND NORMAL TO RESPOND TO PAIN THAT WAY

You are disabled

Give yourself a break

And I’m writing this for myself a little bit but I’m a stubborn idiot so I don’t listen but I’m hoping if Future Me sees this she remembers it for a future meltdown.

Anyway

If you’re feeling like this if you have any of these symptoms I’m really sorry and here’s a list of things that sort of could possibly help:

Focusing on breathing (in for 6 secs, hold for 7, out for 8)

If you can move, change into your cosiest clothes immediately and get into bed.

Turn on something you love to watch. You don’t need to watch it it just needs to be on, replace the mental noise

Have art or images to look at to help relax, save them for days like this

Huddle up in your bed. Don’t touch the phone, scrolling can only numb or distract but it can’t help you move through the pain

I personally have some physical habits? I don’t know if this works for everyone but I drum my fingers on my temples or I lightly knock on my temples, both sides, while rocking

If you have a stim or some physical habit that soothes, go for it

Try to avoid active self harm, passive (not eating or caring for yourself) is not good but it’s not horrible, you can self care after you reach the other side of the war zone.

Have a code word to text to a trusted friend or family member so they know without much explanation that you are sick (because you are! You are very very sick and it’s amazing you’re still standing and I’m super proud of you for staying alive!)

Remember the self harm tip? If you’re in a way worse position and considering something worse, self harm is fine as suicide prevention. This is a weird and risky thing to say but while it’s not a good coping mechanism and last resort, it is still one and it’s better than ending everything. Please try to exhaust every option before reaching this one

Call in sick. No really, call in sick this is worse than a cold, your own brain is turning against you. If you don’t have the privilege of calling in sick as I so often don’t, make sure someone you trust knows how sick you are (either at work or outside of it) to support you and help you through your day

If you live with family then they take on what you can’t. Cooking, cleaning, if you trust them enough then ask them to take care of you too

Hallucinations? Play something grounding, sleep with the lights on or keep all the lights on, have someone you trust with you (online, irl, family or friend) to ground you. Think Peeta in The Hunger Games, you need your Katniss and Finnick to tell you “real or not real”.

Yes it is horrible and yes some of this can feel humiliating and scary especially being so vulnerable and needing so much help, that’s the sucky part of the disability thing, it’s chronic it’s continuous and I’m sorry babes but we’ve just gotta deal with it and you WILL survive this I promise it’s just gonna hurt a hell of a lot first

[lookedafterchild]

  Part One -The overview of how i became homeless aged 18 My mental health was at an all-time low, and I was addicted to Synthetic cannabinoids AKA Spice or legal highs. And this ultimately caused me to end up being homeless at the age of 18; this blog aims at outlining how I got on these drugs and what I had to do to turn my life around and get to where I am now. It was not the most significant point in my life, and it does not relate to the person I have become now. The idea is to show how much I’ve changed and vocalise my experiences. I was already addicted to Spice / Legal Highs before becoming homeless I was in the local “bong shop” and saw someone buy it from behind the counter (this is before the laws came into effect in the United Kingdom. banning the sales and categorising it as a class B Drug.). I knew about it mimicking the effect of cannabis and thought I would try it. The thing is, this drug was not what I expected and was nothing like marijuana. Over a period of a year, I was taking this drug almost daily because. as explained in my blog post, A Medicated Mess. I relied on substances both illegal and legal throughout most of my life, to block out memories and keep me at ease. But I was not expecting this drug to take over and turn me into a zombie! As it does. (maybe a more in-depth post about this will come in the future.) How I became homeless We had all been drinking and smoking Spice; it was Halloween. I was with two friends walking through Dane Park in Margate. One friend had an opened bottle of beer where it was a no drink zone. a task force van zoomed up to us with its sirens on when we briefly stopped to rest. I was already half cut, and we were no less than 15 minutes away from the party when we all got searched. I had two unopened bottles of whisky + around £100 of legal highs on me. Which got confiscated the police office. jokingly or not told me it was a contribution to their Christmas party, and I got up and went to punch the officer… (ridiculous idea I know…) I then got pushed back to the bench. They got hold of my parents and told them because of my behaviour and the quantity of alcohol and drugs I had on me. They would have to file a report to social services if they did not remove me from my mum’s property. My mum made a hard decision that night. One I can imagine was hard but also one of the best moves she made… I became homeless, and this was to protect my sisters as well as to give me a much-needed reality check which I very much thank my mum for doing 🙂 if that never happened, I would wonder what would have become of my life. Being Homeless at aged 18 I knew one thing for sure, I won’t be your typical beggar, and I was lucky to claim various benefits… they saved me if I’m honest. But although I was addicted to drugs, I never resorted to crime or begging. I brought myself a tent and some essential camping equipment and headed to one of the local woodlands. And I pitched up inside the tent. The first month was the worst. After the incident I did not talk to anyone, I spent it in shock and continuously high… barely surviving… thankfully I got myself out of the cycle before it got too bad. I got back in contact with some of my friends. (mostly other addicts who don’t socialise with but two of those with are also clean from legal highs and are now getting on with life and I stay in contact with), and we had some good times. We were all in similar places. This Photo was taken at Tivoli Woods In Margate, Kent. near the location that Li Jean-Luc Harris Was Camping when homeless On my 19th birthday, I was camping in the woods, and it was pretty cold too. Not much happened that day. Two of these friends awakened at midnight with me with a birthday cake. They ventured out that night to get me; it was pouring down with rain too, so it was a pleasant surprise. But I remember having drinking whisky plus smoking legal highs too. cover up most the pain I was going through… I wanted to be with family too, but at the state I was in I was still not fit to ret

urn. A Picture of Li Jean-Luc Harris peering out of his tent to the warmth of a fire. Homeless Heater. I remember one winter night after getting a food parcel off one of the local homeless organisations. We attempted to cook lamb on a campfire using tent pegs to make a day grill; it took us hours to cook this; I remember I was up most that night. But when I finally got to eat, it was at 3a.m. and it was one of the more positive moments of being homeless.Christmas 2016 was an interesting one, I was with a few friends who hosted for me. It was an interesting day once again drug-fuelled and alcohol with a gammon joint roast. A Picture of a campstove and kettle outside Li Jean-Luc Harris's tent while he was homeless The 6th month of being homeless. And having experienced both ends of the scale of being in the woods and sofa surfing, I finally got to the point of realisation where I had to change my behaviours and start my life again. Once again, I needed to make the next move and escape the cycle. Part Two: I Want Out, My journey To Ending my Homelessness Towards the end, I was in desperate need of getting myself into my property. Not only was my head in a place where I had contemplated taking my own life. I knew also that my fantasy of camping was getting further from reality. I used ��I’m Just Camping, or it’s just like camping “to hide and forget the fact I actually didn’t have a safe place to go home. It was important to visit our local council on average of 3 times a week. literally begging for help. What made it worse was the fact I was a care leaver, and they had a responsibility of helping house me. But every time I was brushed off and moved along. December Was Horrid Month. Constant rain and cold weather made it hard to make fires, meaning more time stuck in the tent abusing drugs as well. Thankfully, I could keep somewhat warm and somehow did not get sick... I would visit my mum on occasions, and she offered me back to stay. Every time I refused. I hated being homeless, but did not want to endanger my sisters again. Somehow I made it through Christmas a friend at the time put me up for the night, in fact, he helped me out a lot... but sadly he never got out of the rut, and as far as I’m aware to this day he is now homeless and still addicted to Spice.   Time to change, I need out. [caption id="attachment_13920" align="alignnone" width="225"] an image of Li Jean-Luc Harris While he was homeless[/caption] i was so addicted to the drugs that I learned alternative ways to get hold of it for cheaper. I even learned how to wholesale the drug and even produce it at home. But I knew I needed to change if I was ever going to get myself a home. And move on with my life. After a while of being away from the local council office, I decided it was time. I knew I had to pull out the big guns.   It was a typical visit... I would get a ticket and wait for an advisor smelling like smoke and sweat from my campfire, with the full-on beard and dirt on my face. This time around, I had purposely waited to make sure I was in a horrid state of affairs and make sure they would take me as being serious about my situation... I didn’t want to get brushed off again... My ticket finally got called out, and I approached the desk to speak with the advisor. They looked at me and knew what it was about; I had never talked to this advisor before though, and I think it was mainly a matter of luck. Getting Emergency Housing At first, things seemed to go like usual, I’m homeless, been sleeping here for x Days I need housing I can’t stay with my parents for various reasons. The women looked at me. And told me she regrets to inform me she can not help me... and then this idea struck... “So this is coming up the 4 months on the street camping out of the way from populated areas to not be seen as a beggar, low life or piece of scum. I’ve asked you multiple times for your help and now we are facing Sub-Zero Temperatures. I’m a care leaver therefor you have a duty to assist me and my Pers

onal Assistant. (Kinda like a social worker for over 18’s) has provided you with these details which you claim to have lost. So now let me tell you my plan of action unless you correct this situation.” At this point got my camping gear out as a physical demonstration that I will proceed. “if you’re unable to help me today, then I’m going to pitch my tent up outside of your entrance and I will camp there until either I drop dead in this weather or you home me. and don’t think I won’t talk to the media because one thing is for sure: I want my story heard “ The poor lady’s face dropped; she had nothing to say for a good minute we just sat there before she told me to stay where I was and wait for her to return. I honestly thought she had done a runner for a while, as it had taken over an hour before she got back to me. But when she returned, things made more sense. They offered me a small room in a hotel being used as emergency housing for the council. Continue To Part 3: Thanks for your support! My last post got over 35 Shares, over 1,000 Page views and 65 reactions, so I spent a lot of time to push this post out to keep the story fresh in your minds. I know I said this would complete the story. But once again after typing my words the conclusion is that I wrote too much. xD could be both good... the 3rd story will conclude the story completely and 100% because it is how it ended and also how I got of Spice, but the whole Synthetic cannabinoids will be another in-depth story to be released. I will though give you mini stories on events that got stuck in my head. Like being homeless in Dane park, Tivoli woods. I was sleeping in freezing and raining weather with just a tarp to wrap myself in. Or when we camped under a bridge, and they forced us to weigh our tents down or fly away. Please check out the last post in the homeless category by clicking here or to view all the stories in My Life Stories please click here please leave comments and engage to show your love and motivate me to post more stories into this series. Part Three: Getting Off Drugs and The Future In part one, I explained how I become homeless after a drug addiction to legal highs. And how it had started to effect my behaviours and how the police got involved telling my mum that my actions were at a stage where I had become a risk to my sisters and to protect them my mum had to leave me to fend for myself hoping it would give me that wake-up call needed. In part two, I explained being homeless and how although it was tough and stressful. I managed to get myself into Emergency Housing. Now its time to expand on the story and explain how I got clean of drugs and how I turned my life around. Or did I?   Moving to emergency housing I got placed at Glenwood Hotel, (Cliftonville, Kent) this place was tiny I walked in, and it was my bed a sink wardrobe toilet and shower everything else was communal. And the internet connection was crap, but I was so happy to be off the streets, and I was now able to clean myself up. Glenwood hotel was charging KCC £176/week which was crazy for what they provided. It didn't even include a meal. But they were taking advantage of the demand for housing. And this was only temporary until they were able to accept a duty of care and find me a council flat.     Getting myself off drugs. It was the hardest thing i had to do, if you have no read about my blog post A Medicated Mess  i would read it as i still blame the pharmasutical industry for making me prone to "Fixing habits/issues with drugs" Instead of actually tackling the route course.   i was still heavily addicted to Legal Highs (Spice, K2, Canaboniod, Ect) and at this point now i was housed and somewhat settled i knew it was time to make the first step and Admit i had an issue. if im totally honest i was not kidding no one. i knew i had an issue a long time before this but whist i was in an unfavourable position the only thing to allow me to sleep or take myself away from my c

urrent situation was the drug... but at the same time looking back on the year and a half expireance i knew that sadly i hardly could recall any events...  it took a lot of effort but that night was the last night i took that drug and i've not revisited it since. this was something i never wanted to revisit and was just full of regret. The Future, working life and living in a flat with a stable relationship this part will be split into 4 sub headings. i want to focused a lot on this part of the story as it outlines life now and everything i've worked towards Living in a flat after 8 months in Glenwood hotel and whist doing an employablity course with the job centre,r i was called up by east kent housing offering my a flat in invicta house, Millmead. the area was not favourable for sure but at this point, i was so exited to move in i jumped at the opertunity i've now been there for two years and am on a full time tenancy i've been balancing off debts a lot but thats part of life. Working Life as soon as i was in Glenwood hotel, I was thankful that i was offered a part time "Work Expireance Job" With Alpha Core International thanks to Phillip Rees and Peter Cook. they where  amazing and helped me regain my confidence and spark for working, as well as entrepenurial projects. Alpha Core International Holds a special part in my heart and will get its own blog post in the near future after that i went on a short break working on self employed projects before working for OCS, Now Known As RAS For a second time to help combat my debt A Photo of Li Jean-Luc Harris Working For OCS in 2017 at a superdrug Store After OCS i moved straight into a job up in gravesend for Independence-Development Ltd. which i currently still am working for to this date. Stable Relationship the best part of this is after years of searching me and Josh Evans Met! its now been a year and a half we have been dating and are very happy together :) The Future in the future me and josh are planing to get a mortgage and move in together which will be fantastic. i'm always looking for new job opportunities too and have had a few interviews in the past year that currently have not lead me anywhere. the new life stories series is doing amazing and i will continue working on this for sure.Update in September of 2019 we got the mortgage check out From Homeless To Homeowner; My Journey (overview) Thank you for reading Being Homeless Aged 18 3 of 3. this has been such an amazing expireance and everyone who has interacted and contacted me personally i am over the moon about you lot are really inspiring me to go far with sharing my past issues and how i am dealing with them now. with the hope that i can help others in similar situations. i would really love it if you can share this post or the "Homeless Catagory " so we can reach a bigger audiance and give hope to homeless people all over the world.

[aggressiveguitarnoises]

unfortunately real for the dopamine hit

for all the ppl i am not replying to much who text me i am very deeply sorry i just cannot contain my anxiety and stress rn and i dont want yall to see me like this and get more stressed that i am having fun (literally just socialising like a normal human being) and not studying, even if i can't. and i need to stop thinking this and actually start replying cuz i am making myself more anxious this way AH WHY IS MENTAL HEALTH SO FUCKING HARD

also realising that stressing actually does nothing and letting myself "feel my feelings" in this case makes it worse instead. gotta try and find balance with this, not repressing yet not letting my feelings eat me up but thats hard af. i am now mad cuz i did GREAT on my fucking exam that i thought i would def fail and the one subject that literally doesn't matter cuz i dropped it. but okay. whatever. at least i wrote good. 👍

AND WOOOOOOO HOPE U HAVE FUN!!!!!! i wanna go clubbing but. i am indeed a minor and i am not getting a fake id jesus

thank you, they turned out incredibly dark (yk that popular burnt brownies tumblr post where tags absolutely roasted the op. yea that dark except it is edible !), incredibly rich and chocolaty and incredibly sweet. thats cuz i put too much cocoa but honestly. im fine with that. cravings satisfied. 👍👍👍

to hoping that life will pipe the fuck down for the both of us

baking a miserable brownie after not having enough ingredients to bake anything else but having to bake smth or else i will go insane. mutuals ure welcome to get a slice

[charlattehotte]

i have an in-person class tomorrow for the first time in too long and im actually excited

[prcserpina]

so as of next year i am on my university’s salsa society committee (no i don’t know how that happened either) and have just received a message in the gc that to announce the new committee we’re doing the don’t rush challenge and i am FDSKLJH

[lgckiha]

hi legacy, it’s eri! ♡

i am back with a second muse already, and it’s only been a month. i’ve been working on this muse almost as long as i’ve had lgcjiae. he actually initially had a totally different fc but then i dreamed of choi san and bam! meet lgckiha or yoo kiha, a twenty two year old fourth year idol trainee from daegu with issues™ ( a lawful good aquarius who is an isfj-a ). i’ve actually redacted a lot of his biography for partial mysterious vibes so have fun with getting to know him. if you are interested in knowing what you can about kiha then you can check out his main pages here ( profile / biography ), but in usual eri fashion i’ve provided you with his life story and fun facts beneath the cut anyways. and unlike last time, i do have a connections page which is mostly angsty / long term / established plots that will require a good bit of plotting and will cause more mental anguish for kiha!!! hahahaha please, but i have got a few plot ideas under the cut too if you’re looking for something easier!

anyways, moving on. let’s plot! and so i don’t have to make another plot call, you are more than welcome to LIKE this post if you’re interested in plotting. and i will come to you, ofc ♡ also feel free to ask for my twitter or discord if you wanna plot but just not on here ( i really find tumblr dms unreliable and overwhelming, but it’s also probably because i too am both unreliable and overwhelming ). anyways, please give my boy lots of love ♡

tl;dr on kiha!

born on february 13, 2000 in daegu, south korea to first time parents, later became a big (and extremely proud and protective) brother to yoo taeha who was born in april 2006!!!

grew up living with his parents, sister and paternal grandparents in a three bedroom house where they ran a small general goods stores from the first floor of their home

he was actually a really happy, vibrant kid growing up

( tw parent death ) his mom was killed in a car accident involving a drunk driver on christmas eve in 2010, kiha was 10 and taeha was 4 ( basically it really messed up everyone’s lives from there on out, i’ll elaborate in private if you wanna know more~ )

their father more or less checked out of his responsibilities where being a parent was concerned, so kiha and taeha were raised predominately by their grandparents for the rest of their childhood and into adolescence

( tw mental health / medication ) ended up attending therapy as a kid and ended up on medication ( he still attends therapy regular and still takes medication to this day, but he is extremely private about his life and doesn’t talk to anyone about any of this stuff )

started playing volleyball in middle school ( to make friends, work on socialising better, to find confidence and self love ) also volleyball is just really fun, kiha’s a libero

he ended up playing volleyball throughout high school and would of ended up playing into college if he hadn’t ended up at legacy / studying through a cyber university

started dancing at sixteen with the support of his grandparents and little sister ( turns out he had a great natural talent for dancing and was able to really work on his skills, was also something he was able to share with his little sister and it eventually led him to his current place at legacy )

graduated from high school and relocated to seoul to attend university ( and to escape his past / home life which was getting more turbulent and unhealthy as kiha got older )

auditioned for legacy in january 2020 on a whim and got in, was a little apprehensive at first but he really grew to love and appreciate the company ( and everyone at it lol )

between studying and training, he works part time at a convenience store near legacy, you’ll catch him there after training a couple of nights a week ( he works to keep a little for himself but mainly to support his sister ) 

he goes home every few weeks to visit his grandparents, sister and his mom in daegu when his schedule permits ( family is very important to him )

kiha fun facts!

he’s not shy, but he’s incredibly introverted 

great listener, not a great talker ( aka he talks when necessary )

kiha is super intelligent; he did really well in school and speaks 3ish languages

very organised and disciplined, makes him a great trainee but difficult to exist with

currently a junior (3rd year) studying korean literature at kyunghee cyber university

enjoys playing video games and building model kits in his spare time

he’s also an avid reader ( and secret writer what he writes about idk )

fitness king! is extremely athletic thanks to volleyball, but he also does run, bike ride and go to the gym, he usually runs in before he goes to legacy in the mornings!

kiha genuinely enjoys activities he can do by himself without other people

he can drive

kiha would consider himself to be a cat person ( loves big dogs though )

is still waiting for his first kiss ( but no one will know anything of this )

quick plot ideas!

your muse frequents the convenience store kiha works at

your muse walks into the dance studio and kiha is taking a nap 

fellow volleyballers, runners, bike riders and gym-goers please!

other college students, even if it’s not the same university ( study dates etc. )

pc bang adventures? library adventures? 

please suggest other things <3

[crheativity]

Ahh okay, that’s good!! This isn’t spoilers for you then :D

My thought was Idia as Shots by Imagine Dragons and Ortho as Remember Me from Coco. I’m gonna cry ajdjdksh-

For Shots-

“Am I out of touch? Am I out of my place?” Idia CONSTANTLY questions if he’s socialising okay-

“Oh I’m gonna mess this up, oh, this is just my luck, over and over and over again” He tries really hard but he self sabotages bc of his mental health ALL THE TIME.

“I’m sorry for everything, oh everything I’ve done. From the second that I was born it seems I had a loaded gun and then I shot, shot, shot a hole through everything I loved.” LIKE??? I’m not an Idia fan but like bro definitely blames himself for what happened.

For Remember Me-

“Don’t let it make you cry, for even if I’m far aware I hold you in my heart” Ortho is always trying to cheer up and help Idia!!!

“Just know that I’m with you the only way that I can be” AHDLDJDHS PAIN

I could go more in depths about the rest of the lyrics but I don’t want this to turn into a massive essay- but yes I have a lot of opinions on TWST character songs :))

Hey Krenen! I had a TWST-related thought that is emotionally destroying me. How far through are you? I don’t wanna spoil anything just in case hehe

oh, I've finished all the content available on the EN server so far! and I'm semi-aware about a bit of the JP-only parts of the main story, too :)

PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS!!

[silver-tongued-bby]

You're Mine, Chapter 3

You’re the CEO of a groundbreaking drug company in Sweden with a work/life balance that’s more work than anything else. That is before you meet Loki, who turns your world on its head in the best of ways.

Set in an AU, during the first Avengers movie. This work contains explicit content and BDSM.

Chapter 2 here.

Pairing: Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader

Warnings: No explicit mentions of NSFW content in this chapter

Word Count: 2,109

Author's Note: Here's a quick little chapter. It's a little less than I'd originally expected but I got the first dose of the vaccine Thursday and it thoroughly knocked me on my ass. I hope you enjoy and as always your likes + comments are much appreciated! Next chapter will be out next Saturday.

...

You left the club shortly after bidding farewell to Loki, collecting your coat at the door from a different attendant and heading out into the icy night. Slipping into the warm backseat of the car your driver pulled out of the alley and sped along the empty roads towards your house. You felt your phone buzz in your purse. Pulling it out, the screen illuminated the backseat of the dark car.

“I had such fun with you tonight, älskling.” You smiled as you read the text, a slight shiver passing through you at the memory.

“Will you join me for dinner tomorrow night?” His second text came in before you could type a reply.

“I did too. I’d love to- do you have a place in mind?” You responded, trying to tamp down your excitement.

“Yes. I’ll pick you up at 7pm.” He responded quickly. You replied with your address, your heart beating faster with excitement at the idea of seeing him again.

“Until tomorrow, älskling x” You smiled at his text before typing back “Goodnight, Loki. xx”. Settling into your seat you looked out the window, mind running wild at all of the different possibilities for tomorrow.

The next day you awoke to the sunlight streaming through your window. Blinking wearily you checked your bedside alarm for the time- 9AM. You laid back in the bed, stretching and smiling to yourself, remembering yesterday’s events.

Getting up you padded over to your bathroom, running yourself a bath in the large, sunken tub that overlooked the frozen lake behind your house. After your bath you got ready for the day, slipping on some comfortable clothes.

Entering the kitchen, you were greeted by Martin.

“You slept in this morning,” Martin stated, pouring your coffee as you sat at the stool on the kitchen island.

“Yes, I went out last night.” You smiled, wiggling your eyebrows at him, trying to get a reaction.

He simply looked at you, his face expressionless. “That is good. It is good to socialise.”

You laughed. Martin was honest to a fault and had the emotional enthusiasm of a Vulcan.

“Yes it is good to socialise” you agreed, settling in to the plate of food he placed in front of you.

After breakfast you retreated to your bedroom and found your phone on your dresser. Opening your messages, you were excited to find one from Loki. “I hope you slept well älskling. Are you feeling well after our time together last night?”

Grinning, you typed your response letting him know you slept well and are feeling good after the highs you reached last night. Suddenly your phone was vibrating- a call incoming from one Tony Stark.

“And what does my primary shareholder want on this fine Saturday?” You asked, feigning anger.

“Mental health check- did you spend your evening watching dubbed X Files re runs?” You could tell he was in his suit, the sound quality clear but his tone was distracted.

“The truth is out there Tony,” you joked as you sat on the edge of your bed.

“Right. So you went to the club,” Tony stated, his tone a bit more interested than before.

“I did.”

“Look at you go, Brainiac! And debauchery ensued?”

You laughed, “yes, debauchery did indeed ensue.”

“She’s all grown up J.A.R.V.I.S.,” he sniffed. “Indeed, Sir.” Came the robotic reply on the other end. “Well I gotta go- this satellite isn’t going to fix itself. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do- wait, maybe do depending on what or who or maybe where…” He trailed off, giving you the chance to cut in.

“Good chatting with you Tony! Say hi to Pepper for me.” You hit the end button before he could try to ask you for more details.

You spent the rest of the day catching up on some research articles- it was a large part of your job to keep up to date with the latest in your field. You had just finished a particularly interesting paper from the Cho lab about a novel method of synthesising proteins when you looked at the time- a little past 6pm.

Stretching, you walked over to your closet to choose what you’d wear this evening. The lingerie was easy- you decided on a black satin balconette bra lined with lace and matching panties. After a lot of back and forth you chose a black dress that fell to your mid thighs, form fitting with a high neck, long sleeves and exposed back. You showered and dressed, spritzing yourself with a bit of perfume. You clasped a thick gold choker around your neck, quickly arranged your hair into an easy style and applied some makeup.

Checking the time you realised you had time for a glass of wine to settle your nerves. You poured yourself a glass and perched on the kitchen barstool before pulling out your phone. Hovering your finger over the browser button you sighed. It must be okay to Google someone you were seeing- surely he’d done the same right? Making up your mind you typed in “Loki Laufeyson” and hit the search button.

Scrolling through the results you weren’t able to find him although there was a lot of Norse mythology. Tapping on an article about Loki, the Norse god of mischief, you noticed that Loki’s mother was Laufey, and that this mythical god shared your suitor’s last name. Could he have given you a fake surname? It was entirely possible- the club seemingly catered to well-connected people who’d be reasonably concerned with keeping their desires from prying eyes. Surely this couldn’t be a coincidence- Laufeyson was so unique a name…

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard three sharp knocks to the front door. Looking to the kitchen security monitor you saw the back of Loki’s tall, suave figure at your front door. You took a deep breath before striding towards the door and opening it to the frigid air.

“Loki,” you smiled as you shuddered against the icy cold.

“Älskling.” He grinned, his green eyes sparkling. His smile was positively infectious. You found yourself blushing at it, a large part of you wanting to do anything to keep it in its place.

“Please, come in. I just need to grab a coat.” You held the door for him as he entered, his eyes moving around the warm, modern entryway.

Closing the door you walked over to the hall closet, pulling out a dark cashmere coat. Turning, you were surprised to find him behind you, his gloved fingers grasping the coat from your hands.

“Allow me,” his deep voice sending shudders through you as his eyes captured yours. Nodding, you turned and slipped your arms through the coat. You did up the buttons on the front with trembling hands as you cursed under your breath- he had you already.

He placed your arm in his as he led you outside- you were grateful for the support on the slippery winter walk. Looking to the driveway you let out a low whistle- his car looked like he’d driven it off the set of Tron. You recognised it as one of the Mercedes electric concept cars and you knew only four existed at this point in time after being informed by your dealer. He laughed and led you to the passenger door, opening it for you so you could get in. He closed the door and came about the drivers side, settling in before speeding off down your driveway.

“May I ask where we’re off to?” You turned, studying his features as he focused on the road. He really was gorgeous- his strong brow, his cheekbones, his green-blue eyes staring intensely ahead. His dark curls were tucked behind his ears, smoothed back from his pale face.

“I’m taking you to dinner,” his lips curving slightly as he smoothly weaved between traffic.

You huffed at that before deciding to change the subject. “What line of work are you in?”

“I was involved in politics of a foreign nature in a previous life. Now I find myself… freelancing.” He declared, his smile turning wicked.

“I see- were you born here in Sweden?” You asked, although you were quite certain he wasn’t from his crisp accent.

“No, but I had visited a few times long ago. I find it a welcome refuge. How are you enjoying Stockholm, älskling?”

“From what I’ve experienced so far, I love it. I do worry I’ve missed out on exploring this country. My work keeps me so busy I’ve had little time to stop and enjoy myself.” You answered, a little shocked at how comfortable you found yourself around this man after meeting less than 24 hours ago.

“Well we’ll have to make up for lost time, älskling.” As he said that his gloved hand came to lightly rest on your exposed knee, sending your heart racing. You tried to distract yourself by looking out the window, attempting to place where he was taking you.

“I must admit when I was at the club last night you were the last thing I had expected to find,” he said as his long fingers lightly brushed small circles on your knee.

“And what were you looking for?” You turned to him and were surprised to see his full gaze on you, the car stopped at a light.

His gaze slid to your lips, then down your body, coming to rest for a moment on where his hand touched your exposed leg before flickering back up to your eyes. “A distraction,” he trailed his fingers up your thigh to stop at the black fabric of your dress, “but you are so much more than that, älskling.” You were fully captivated by his stare, your heart racing as his gloved finger tip hooked lightly under the hem of your dress.

All too quickly the light changed to green and his eyes flickered back to the road, his hand moving back to the wheel as he accelerated. You let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding.

After a minute or so he made a turn and pulled up to a small, nondescript but well designed building. Getting out, he swiftly came around to your side and opened the door, waving off the valet from doing so. He offered his hand to you which you gladly accepted, sliding out of the low leather seat and into the cold.

The maître d’ immediately recognised Loki and after taking your coats he swiftly led you to a private room. Seating you at a small table in the dimly lit room, he politely excused himself with a small bow, leaving you two alone once again.

A waiter came in to uncork a bottle before pouring you both glasses of red wine, indicating to the small menu cards over your place setting. You read the menu- it was a set meal of small plates paired with wine, everything sounding delicate and delicious. Looking up you found Loki observing you with a hint of a smile at his lips, the waiter long gone.

You smiled at him, “what is it?”

“Just a passing thought.” He sipped his wine, “I do believe it is my turn to inquire about you, älskling.”

The conversation between the two of you flowed easily as each course came and went. He asked about your past, your time at university, your family, your company, and your hobbies. You decided to leave out your time at Stark Industries for a later time- usually when you mentioned that you completed years of research for Iron Man that was all your date could talk about.

Your server brought in tiny plates of petit fours along with glasses of scotch, informing you that it was the last course and thanking you before taking his leave. You popped a tiny macaron in your mouth, closing your eyes when you felt the burst of the sweet, light buttercream against your tongue. Opening your eyes to see Loki surveying you with dark eyes as he leant back in his chair, the glass of scotch in his hand making your thighs clench together at the memory of last night.

Taking your scotch in hand, you brought your face down slightly. “Where to next,” you peeked at Loki through your lashes “Sir?”

Letting out a dark chuckle Loki placed his glass down and stood, slowly making his way to your chair. He gently caressed your cheek with his fingers, making your eyes flutter closed before opening them to peer up at him. “Let’s play, älskling.”

End Note: älskling = darling/honey in Swedish

I had fun writing this chapter- my partner and I had the chance to experience a restaurant similar to the one I mentioned for an anniversary a few years back in France and it was such a special experience. I like to imagine if Loki were stuck on earth it’d be something he’d enjoy as well.

Chapter 4 here.

[spectrumed]

7. identity

The aesthetic of suffering, the allure of victimhood, it’s important to acknowledge that to many people, the idea of struggling with mental illness is hot. A common trope in teen dramas is the existence of the sexy bad boy haunted by demons of depression or addiction or some other psychological malady. Women with mental illness tend to be sexualised, less, but then again, women are most typically always sexualised, no matter the state of their mental health. But it’s not just a case of some people finding mental illness to be attractive in others, many see mental illness in themselves as something to take pride in, to celebrate and nurture. To seek out a diagnosis, to infiltrate communities that exist to provide support to those in need, and to declare themselves as being special. Fakers, you could call them. Yes, we’re going to be entering into dangerous grounds here, talking about a potentially incendiary topic that might feed the flames of controversy, but it’s a topic worth discussing. Self-diagnosis. Is self-diagnosis valid or not? Should one self-diagnose? Is it ableism to be against self-diagnosis? Is it ableism to be for self-diagnosis? Is it ableism itself ableist? I don’t know, sweetheart, you are asking a whole bunch of questions and I am hungover… But let’s go on rambling about what it means to be labelled neurodivergent.

Do you have an identity? Do you root for a particular sports team? Do you like a particular kind of music? Do you dance a lot? Are you a dancer? What are you? Simply stating that you’re just “a human” probably won’t do. Sure, it’s correct, but I am also a human, and we could be two very different kinds of people. Your identity should be that certain something that makes you stand apart from the rest, that distinguishes you from the squirming mass of flesh that is the whole of humanity. There are plenty of things about you that do figure in your identity, even though you wish it didn’t. You’re black, you don’t wish to always be “that black guy over there,” but you’ve come to realise that’s just how society views you. Maybe you are a transwoman, and you very eagerly want your friend to stop introducing you as her “trans bestie.” You’re just a woman, you don’t need her to keep labelling you as trans, even though that's what you are. There are many ways we can change our identity through direct personal action. Maybe you could start wearing a hat, and be known as “that hat guy” to the people you work with. Maybe you could embrace a punk aesthetic, looking like young Johnny Rotten stepped into a time machine and got transported to the current day. Actions like these can have a big or small impact on how others see you, but it feels good to be able to make a decision like that and get a response. This is me, this is what I am. I’m the guy who wears bow-ties, don’t I look cool? If only shaping your sense of self always came down to personal decisions like that. You don’t always have a choice.

I’ve lately been watching some Conan O’Brien (American TV talk show host who’s recently decided not to be a TV talk show host) clips. I am sure I don’t need to explain who Conan O’Brien is to my readers, but just in case this is being read by aliens ten-thousand years from now, what I can tell you is that Conan O’Brien is well known for being freakishly tall. Like, really tall. He’s an elongated leprechaun. He’s turned being tall into one of his trademarks. Like many comedians, he’s come to use his corporeal form as a source for levity and fun. While, naturally, the man did not choose to grow as tall as he did, he’s come around to use his height not as a hindrance to success, but rather as an asset. He’s “that tall irish guy on the TV,” and he’s been that person for nearly thirty years. It pays to have some distinguishing feature if you wish to be distinguished. Mr. Joe Average might be perfectly funny and charming, but being an average-looking guy can be wholly detrimental in making a career for yourself as a funnyman. At least get yourself some weird voice, or something. Maybe pretend to be some foreigner and put on a fake accent. As a comedian your job is to be exploited, you wish to be made into a commodity to be sold. People will want to watch your special because of that funny face you pull in the thumbnail. To be different can be financially lucrative.

What’s the best approach in turning something that could be perceived as an abnormal feature into something that is beneficial to you? To make jokes about it? Certainly, if I were to meet a man with a heavily scarred face, I feel there’d likely be a tension between me and him that could be dispelled if that man with the heavily scarred face made some little joke about his appearance, some little quip. “I’m sorry, I cut myself shaving this morning,” would do. The person isn’t obliged to justify his existence to me, he does not have to go out of his way to make me feel less uncomfortable. I am the one in the wrong, certainly. I shouldn’t look at a person with a heavily scarred face and feel uncomfortable, that’s me letting prejudices get in the way, I know that. But, it is what it is. If you’re looking for a practical solution, telling people to simply get over themselves and learn to not be so awkward around folks with physical deformities won’t do. It may be the right thing, but it’s not going to happen any time soon. I am sure that the man with the heavily scarred face isn’t interested in being defined by his heavily scarred face. He's probably sick and tired of that little joke, and wish he didn’t have to make it. But it does the job. Suddenly, you are not looking at something to be feared, the other, you are looking at a person, and someone with a sense of humour. The importance of humour in eradicating stigma, making it possible for the ostracised to enter in society, cannot be understated. Through humour, you can convince most everyone that you are someone worthy of inclusion, because… well, you’re just a funny guy, who doesn’t wanna hang out with you?

For those who have grown up not feeling normal, worrying that there are aspects of your character that others may perceive as unwanted, the yearning to be liked can at times become excruciating. I like to consider myself a funny person, while this blog isn’t intended to be a humorous one, occasionally small little jokes will squirm their way to the top, like worms coming up to the surface during a rainstorm. I am also a cartoonist, and produce a new cartoon every other day. My humour isn’t universal, no good humour ever is universal, but it’s done good in getting some folks to like me. Some people want to be admired, some people want to be feared. I only want to be liked. The one thing I absolutely do not want to be is pitied. I don’t want your pity, I fear your pity.

You’re probably familiar with The Sims, right? It’s a life simulation game, where you control a little digital human, known as a sim, and try to help them make the right decision through life. Each sim has a number of meters that measures their current needs. Hunger, hygiene, energy, if they need to urinate or defecate (though, frankly, the distinction between the two isn’t made in the game, so one can assume that sims are like birds and have just one cloaca that does both,) and so on. One of these meters is for social activities. If a sim hasn’t been social in a while, they go nutty. What’s interesting here, the reason why I bring it up, is that in real life, though we all (to a lesser or greater degree) crave to socialise with others, what kind of socialising you do is of a very big importance. There are a myriad of ways in which one can be social, and depending on your needs at the time, one kind of socialising may not do, whereas another kind of socialising may be just what you need. Do you want to hang out with your pals, cracking jokes and maybe drinking a couple of beers? Do you want to have a serious conversation with your partner about what you wish to accomplish together? Do you want to play with your dog? These different social situations scratch different parts of your mind, and you can’t just substitute one for the other and think that’s all alright. A person may have tonnes of friends, lots of buddies to spend their time with, but they may still desperately be yearning for another kind of social interaction, one that none of their friends can deliver. The human need for company is more complex than how it is depicted in The Sims… which, to be fair, probably shocks nobody. The Sims doesn’t pretend that it’s some highly realistic simulation of real life, it’s a game meant to be played for fun. But what’s important here is the fact that while humans do have a need to be social, how that need is fed changes dramatically on the person, and their conditions. Socialising that may bring comfort to one person, may bring discomfort to another person.

I don’t want you to pity me. I may list my diagnoses, I may tell you of the difficulties that I face in life, but I do not want you to feel sorry for me. I want you to be entertained reading this, I don’t want to make you weep thinking about how cruel life can be. I don’t want you thinking I’m special, or different, because of my diagnoses. I want you to think I’m special and different because of my writing. Sure, this blog is about living with autism spectrum disorder, but I don’t want you reading this blog just because it’s about autism spectrum disorder. I want you to read this because, while it is about a diagnosis you are interested in learning more about, you also find what I write to be well-written and at times, mildly humorous. This blog isn’t my rabid manifesto detailing all the ways my life sucks, and what must be done by society to appease me. Nah, I’m doing relatively fine, don’t feel bad for me, please. I don’t want that kind of attention. I do want attention, I won’t lie and tell you that I don’t have an ego, or that I don’t get pleased seeing people like the things I put out there. I do have a social need, it’s just that being pitied does not do it for me. It doesn’t make me feel good. It makes me feel bad. It makes me feel sad. It really makes me feel mad.

We’re finally getting around to the topic I promised I would discuss. Self-diagnosis. A principal concern people have with self-diagnosis is that people only self-diagnose in order to receive pity from others. The difference between someone like me, who’s got a proper official diagnosis, and someone who is self-diagnosed, is that I don’t want your pity. I don’t want you to fetishise my diagnosis, this thing about me that I did not choose to be. I don’t want special favours just because of my diagnosis, I don’t want to be known as “that cartoonist with autism.” I am autistic, I’ve come to accept that, but I don’t want anyone to introduce me as “their friend who’s on the spectrum.” Some may accuse me of self-loathing, treating being autistic like some bad thing that I am ashamed of. But that’s not it. After all, I did start this blog to discuss what it is like. I just don’t want to be defined by this certain something that lies outside of my control. I don’t want it to be my “thing.” I don’t mind being referred to as a hairy cartoonist, because I am pretty hairy. I don’t want to cut my hair any time soon (especially with this plague going around.) No-one would pity me just because I am hairy. At most they may regard me as a good-for-nothing beatnik, and I’m okay with that. Ideally, I still want to be liked, but anything is better than being pitied. To be pitied is to be robbed of your own agency, your own potential. Sure, it gets you that attention you may be craving, but at the cost of infantilization. Autistic people often struggle with being infantilized by society, to the point where some folks don’t even realise that there are autistic grown-ups in the world. Anyone who would voluntarily seek out a diagnosis just to be pitied, well… it doesn’t sit right with me. It makes me, quite frankly, feel demoralised.

But not all people self-diagnose just to get pity from others, right? For some it’s genuinely their only option, likely living in a barely-functioning country like the United States where receiving psychiatric care is expensive and it’s just not something they can afford. It’s unfair of me to phrase self-diagnosing as just a quest to receive pity, it’s way more complicated than that. And yes, I’d have to agree. To know all the reasons why a person may self-diagnose, you have to go personally ask them. Even if it is possible to highlight a few certain trends, things that they all have in common, it’s bound to be impossible to make this one sweeping generalisation to explain everything. All I am saying is that there absolutely are those people who do self-diagnose with the explicit goal of getting pitied. Whether they are knowingly faking their condition or not, to them, being pigeonholed as a person with autism isn’t at all a negative. It’s their identity. It is how they have chosen to let the world see them. They made a choice. They chose this label. This is why many people who have official diagnoses are sceptical of those who've only got a self-diagnosis. Whether your self-diagnosis is accurate or not, in the end, you chose to identify yourself with it. You made a decision, oblivious of the fact that many people don’t get to make that kind of a decision, and they may bear resentment for how you are turning something they’ve faced ostracization for, into what is potentially on the same level as listening to a certain kind of music, or being a supporter of a sports team. A diagnosis is not something you should choose to have.

There are other things to say about self-diagnosis. First of all, it can be dangerous. Some of the diagnoses I’ve seen people give themselves are really serious, things like personality disorders or psychosis. Psychiatrists are very careful when putting these kinds of labels on people, knowing the harm that it can do. A diagnosis is meant to only be given after careful deliberation, and after long conversations with the patient. Psychiatrists know that reducing a person to a set of symptoms can have detrimental effects to that person’s sense of self. If you’re trying to cling on to a diagnosis, seeing it as a major part of your identity, then that may hamper any attempts you make to become a better person, to improve your mental health. You will feel as if you need to correspond to the exact specifications of the disorder, and you will not allow yourself to grow naturally as a complicated human being, a human being whose internal life is far too vast to be fully rounded up with some psychiatric jargon. There are plenty of things about me that do not line up with the diagnostic criteria for autism spectrum disorder, and guess what, that’s quite good actually. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have autism, I very much do, but I realise that as a person, I am more than just my diagnosis. The diagnosis does not define me, I define the diagnosis. If you self-diagnose, do you comprehend all that you are getting yourself into? Are you going to find yourself in psychological traps that will only serve to worsen your mental health? It’s hard to look at yourself objectively, you could easily be misrepresenting yourself inside your own mind. You may effectively be locking parts of yourself away, making it so you are no longer able to see the full you. You will no longer be all there, you will be segmented in favour of upholding the defining marks of a diagnosis that doesn’t suit you.

Instead of self-diagnosing, try doing a self-assessment. Keep in mind that, while you may have this diagnosis, it’s too early to say for sure. You’re going to need somebody else’s input. You’ll need to sit with it for a while to see if it sticks. Keep an open mind, realise that there’s no easy way to explain exactly who you are, or what you are like. It’s very possible that you will come to realise that you are in fact autistic, or have whatever other diagnosis you may suspect describes you. I, after all, came to the conclusion that I was autistic before I got the diagnosis (though, I was going to therapy at that point, and I was on the way to undergo a neuropsychiatric evaluation.) It’s not bad to try and get to understand yourself, don’t come out of this thinking that self-reflection is only possible with a psychiatrist looming over you, telling you how to think about things. We all need to come to certain conclusions over how we self-identify, and sometimes you need to take mental leaps to explain certain things. Just don’t feel as if your best option is to put a label on yourself that can potentially negatively affect your psychological well-being. If you are truly searching for understanding, if your goal is to find out more about yourself, you should act with caution and concern for what you are doing. If all you are looking for is to have people pity you, then… well… I don’t know what to say, really…

[solarianvoidthearoace]

Excerpt#1 of my Gerry Keay/OC Magical/Mythical CollegeAU

CN/TW: Social Anxiety, discussion of mental illness, discussion of past trauma, awkward coming-out, miscommunication, misunderstanding, it/its pronouns for Michael Shelley, he/they pronouns for Gerry, they/them pronouns for OC, narrative mention of Mary Keay, mention of alcohol, mythical people living in a parallel society and amongst humans, original character talking German (two sentences; extrapolable from context)

“But sure, you're seeming nice so no problem.” Heaving a relieved sigh, Gerry followed them into the room. The two taking seats in the lower rows of the auditorium, seeing as Gerry’s companion wore glasses. Unpacking their notepads, pencil cases, and Gerry setting up his laptop. There was still time until the lecture was set to begin, so Gerry turned to his table neighbour,

“Your look sends very mixed signals, if I’m being honest.” They grinned, propping their chin up on the back of their hand,

“All the right ones, apparently”, demonstratively looking Gerry up and down. Making them look away, clearing his throat. They laughed,

“Not flirting, don’t worry. I’m Yanis.” He tried masking his relieved sigh best they could,

“Gerry.”

They did pay attention to the lecture, still, Gerry found out a bit more about his dyed ginger saviour. Yanis was in the same semester and some of the same courses has he was. Though they didn’t study for the same engineering degree, there was a decent overlap. Some courses Gerry needed for his software engineering degree much the same as Yanis needed for mechanical engineering. They easily offered they could study together. Yanis having been at the campus since they started their degree and knowing the ins and outs of it.

Having easily found common ground in their discipline of study, as well as their taste in music, Gerry had no qualms following Yanis to the canteen for a late breakfast. They kept chatting, switching back and forth between languages.

“So what if you’re 31?”, Yanis shrugged,

“I also had to take care of my health first. Plus we’re both neurodivergent so starting a college degree at all is more stressful to us. It’s not like anyone is rushing you.” Gerry rolled their eyes,

“Still. Being autist and depressed doesn’t exactly help my case here. That’s ignoring the ADHD and trauma.” A painted-black nail flicked his nose,

“Nope. None of that, you’re not demanded to keep pace with anyone and if your personal reasons bared you from even looking into college education until you were 25, then that’s how it is. Besides, it’s eight years between us. Don’t be dramatic.” Gerry tried to glare but they simply raised a brow in challenge, shutting him right up. While they weren’t in the same major, they compared their course schedules some more and found they were in the same philosophy and ethics courses for their minor. Gerry having decided to not put that on hold and taking the according courses in his semester in Germany as well.

By the end of the day, Gerry felt they had a better handle on his new college-everyday and possibly even made a friend. Which raised a few problems all of its own.

While Gerry had no problem with Yanis finding out what concretely had delayed his life so much, they had another problem. Gerry wasn’t human. And neither was their best friend Michael, for the matter, it being a changeling and his nature chaotic to a fault. Gerry themself was, depending on what one believed, involuntarily threatening to humans.

His mother having been a hulder, a mythical being almost looking like a human. The feature most telling of their mythical nature, though, the fact that they look hollow if seen in the right light, from the right angle. Akin to forest spirits, hulders were drawn by their nature to lure townspeople into forests. Not inherently malicious, of course, their blonde hair and fair skin drawing mostly men in.

With an established mythical society existing in parallel to the non-magical human society, there were laws and proper paperwork surrounding magical and mythical people’s “otherness” and characteristics.

Characteristics which were the life-long obsession of his mother. Her trying to create offspring of her own that would be inherently dangerous to humans and as malicious as she had been. Gerry hated thinking about his father almost more than he hated his mother. But matter of fact was, being half-hulder, and his father having been a river-nix, Gerry was… alluring. Drawing people in without them realising as much if he acted the wrong kind of way towards them. Gerry forced to be constantly mindful of their nature, as to not accidentally harm someone.

Which was why they usually didn’t make friends. Having to make sure the person wasn’t human as to not endanger them.

And yet, they got stuck with Yanis. Gerry was glad it was autumn, the chance of light hitting him in just the wrong way dwindling. But he couldn’t help their worried unease, recognising Yanis and them grew closer.

It wasn’t that Gerry was set out to avoid Yanis, having taken them up on an invitation to lunch and even to revise notes and study together. But Gerry had a bad feeling about it, especially when he grew to see them as a friend. They did try bringing some more distance between them, an attempt so he didn’t need to outright evade Yanis. Declining their invitations more often than not, excusing themself and finding reasons to convince himself it was the right thing to do.

Having forced himself to take a step back, Gerry caught themself looking for them. It had started so he could more easily get around them, trying to deter Yanis from inviting him in the first place so they didn’t have to turn them down as often.

Gerry wasn’t oblivious to their whole demeanour getting muted once it had clicked that he was trying to push distance between them. But seeing Yanis less cheery and energetic made Gerry realise some things about them.

Yanis wasn’t much smaller than him, a few inches at most. But they carried themself in a way that made them stand out. Gerry had learned Yanis had chronic pain, making it hard on them to be on their feet the entire day. Rarely, they wore leg braces, limiting their range of motion further than their chronic pain already did. Still, Yanis was confident and most days glossing over their frequent aches with relative ease. It had been more apparent when they hadn’t been upset but the way Yanis walked was… with purpose. Every step seeming deliberate and not to be questioned. While that cocksure confident way to carry oneself wasn’t all that remarkable, it stood out in Yanis.

And Gerry needed a good long while to figure out why.

Michael had badgered them to get out and socialise. It was the last week before winter break and there was a social happening of the engineering faculty. Gerry had put on a nice button shirt and proper slacks before touching up their black nail polish and putting on a hint of eyeliner.

Yes, he was cautious not to accidentally draw humans in but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to tart themself up. Gerry hadn’t even really planned to talk to anyone, if they were being honest. Just mingling among people and feeling alone in the crowd instead of feeling alone by himself.

That was, until aquamarine and black varnished fingers held a bottle in his field of vision. Gerry couldn’t fight down his smile before closing their eyes. Shaking his head, they just let it happen. Let that gentle affection wash over him for just a moment.

“Thought you might be here tonight”, Yanis held out the drink,

“The crown cap is still sealed.” Gerry pulled a face as to not smile despite themself. He sighed,

“You’re quite persistent.” Yanis raised a rather expressive brow at him,

“If you honestly wanted me gone, you would have told me. So I dare say you don’t want me completely gone. It’s nice having someone who can keep up with my ADHD jumping through topics, plus being able to overlook what allistics call me weird for.” When he finally took the bottle, their smile turned from friendly to bright. He bit his lip, trying to hide it behind the bottle. Yanis offered them their bottle opener.

“Got me there. And yes, having a neurodivergent friend is quite unwinding”, he admitted. Opening the drink, Gerry took them in. A proper once-over. They weren’t primped either but certainly had put thought into their casual suit not clashing with their once-again stark-red hair. Gerry having seen Yanis cycling through vibrant red washing out to ginger, before they went back to dyed poppy-red.

Gerry felt admittedly awkward standing together with them. Very much aware of how they had avoided them after all. Nursing their drinks, they kept quiet. Even though Gerry noticed Yanis also taking in his appearance. After some time he sighed,

“I’m sorry. It’s…”, they broke off, shaking his head.

“Complicated?”, Yanis offered with a huff,

“That’s one way to put it, I suppose.” Gerry raised a brow at them. Before he could ask what they were referring to, though, Yanis turned to him properly.

“Did you notice there’s a dance floor?” They blinked in surprise,

“Uh… yea, I did.” Yanis snorted, taking his empty bottle from them and depositing the glass on a nearby tray for used tableware.

“So, can you dance?”, Yanis’ smile inviting and warm,

“And would you dance with me?” Gerry froze, biting his lip and looking away. He knew they shouldn’t. They were very much aware that Yanis needed to keep their distance from him. He swallowed thickly,

“I can dance but…” Yanis hummed expectantly.

“We shouldn’t, okay? I don’t want to elaborate on that.” Yanis’ face cleared as they gave a soft ‘oh’ of understanding.

When Gerry looked back at them, Yanis was looking at them. The expression in their eyes making him pause. A glint of intent, resolve. But their overall demeanour had changed as well. That deliberate way they carried themself was back, not in a way that intimidated. But even standing next to Gerry, he could see they were moving with an intent, with a conscious focus on the way they moved to get there.

Yanis licked their lip,

“I will respect your turndown. But I would like you to know that I know.” Gerry froze. Raising a brow, Yanis’ tone turned gentler still,

“And I really don’t want to push you towards anything. Or put you up to anything.” Gerry felt his amusement bubbling up when Yanis said as much. The idea of someone human inciting a mythical or magical person to anything at all seemed a bit laughable.

“I’m aromantic myself”, they shrugged,

“And asexual.” Their smile turning into a bit of a smirk, cheeky just around the edges. Gerry’s face cleared in surprise, his jaw dropping a bit. His amusement freezing over with a faint ‘oh’ of their own. Before he grimaced,

“I am aromantic, yes, but that’s not it. I’m sorry, you’re a really nice person. You have been nothing but friendly and a reliable friend at that. It’s…”

Yanis closed their eyes, brows raised, before they snorted.

“Let me stop you right there. I know you have been avoiding me, I have respected that you were avoiding me”, they looked him in the eye,

“If you want me gone, I won’t bother you again. I’ll be out of your hair and we don’t have to even talk again.” Gerry felt his face fall, nervously biting his lip once more. Yanis wasn’t done just yet,

“But if you would like to, I want to get to know you”, a short jerk of their head,

“Properly get to know you. I think both our first gut feeling about the other was that we could become pretty great friends. And that’s all I’m suggesting.” Gerry needed a moment to process that. To let sink in that Yanis was really just curious about his friendship. Something they had so far always had to be wary around. At least until Gerry knew whether the person in question was human. Yanis huffed,

“While you process whether to give us a try, I’ll get us new drinks.” Gerry blinked, then nodded when they realised Yanis was waiting on his okay. Another one of those bright friendly smiles before they turned away. Gerry didn’t know what it was but they followed Yanis with his eyes. Their red hair easy to make out even in the crowd.

Just as he was about to turn away, he noticed something. Yanis was a very body-aware person, conscious and deliberate to a point it might seem standoffish. They had explained how it related to their chronic back and joint pain. But as Gerry watched them move through the crowd, he realised just how easily they moved around people. Almost light-footed, turning out of others’ ways with ease.

Despite them being almost as tall as him, and dressed in dark clothes, something about Yanis’ way through the crowd seemed almost airy.

It didn’t fit. It should have clashed immensely.

As they moved back towards him, Gerry realised what had been so weird about Yanis’ bodily confidence. They didn’t seem to make way for themself. Not at all. While that sureness was clear as day, written all over their most minute movements.

The way Yanis moved was the harsh opposite. Gerry was tempted to call it floaty. He knew they could make a way for themself through people, had witnessed as much a few times in the bustle of the campus. But how Yanis moved around people seemed just as natural.

Not even the slightest touch between them and the people around, as if some shimmer was keeping Yanis from being touchable. Kept up their airy strut, as if they weren’t turning and stepping around people.

The contrast did not make sense. And seeing as Gerry’s best friend was a changeling, well, if things didn’t make sense, it was likely some faerie or other was involved.

Which, on the one hand, would mean Yanis was safe from his own magic. But on the other hand it would raise so many more questions around them. About them.

Gerry couldn��t help his sceptical look when Yanis returned. Frowning at them, unsure whether to trust what they had seen.

“You're looking at me like that again”, Yanis raised a brow at him. Gerry gnawed his bottom lip,

“You’re a bit of a mystery, if I’m being honest.” But took the offered bottle none the less. Yanis’ warm smile returned,

“Well, I suppose it’s on you whether you care to figure me out, then.” An easy shrug as they raised a brow at him.

Gerry didn’t reply. They had not clue what to reply to that. And what they wanted to reply in the first place. Yanis didn’t push him. Much to Gerry’s relief. They fell back into companionable silence, emptying their drinks. When the bottles were empty, Yanis looked at him for a long moment. Searching their face. Yanis’ expression fell a bit, their smile not reaching their eyes anymore. Still, they only grimaced a little before sighing,

“So… have a good night, then.” Taking his empty bottle to take it away with their own, Yanis turned to go. Looking back over their shoulder,

“I guess I’ll see you around.” And with a final shrug and smile, they were gone in the crowd. Gerry stared after them before he closed their eyes and sighed. Silently cursing themself, he turned away from the crowd as well. One hand coming up to cover his mouth. Yanis had been right, if Gerry really had wanted them gone, he could have told them as much anytime. If they had wanted Yanis gone, he could have told them as much when they literally offered to leave him alone.

But Gerry didn’t. Because Gerry hadn’t and still didn’t want them gone.

They spent another few minutes turning things over in his head. What he had to consider if they really tried building a genuine friendship with Yanis.

Once he started looking around for them, Gerry regretted their delay. Not able to make out the red shock of hair, Gerry pulled out his phone. If he couldn’t find Yanis, he might at least tell Michael about his hunch. They had been friends for forever but Gerry still wasn’t all that confident to make out people that were connected to faerie. It was his best idea at the moment but he might just as well be off. Asking Michael for his opinion was a solid thing, also maybe it could distract Gerry if they really didn’t find Yanis again. Which meant Gerry would have to approach them around their next shared lecture.

Pocketing their phone, he looked up and around once more.

And huffed in amusement, Yanis standing almost directly in his line of vision. Albeit turned from them and leaning with their chin propped up over a bar table. Despite having avoided them, Gerry knew their usual posture well enough to see Yanis had to adjust to their pain at the moment. Holding their weight cautiously and reducing tension in their back and legs. Coincidentally, Yanis was looking at their own phone when Gerry came closer. And if he wasn’t mistaken, they were looking at the recent chat chronic between the two of them. The small frown pulling down the corner of Yanis’ lips gave Gerry a weird boost of confidence.

As he stepped up to the table, Yanis looked up.

“Du schon wieder”, they raised a brow but their frown had vanished. The quip good natured and accompanied by a small smile. Gerry couldn’t help smiling themself. With a slight head-tilt, he shrugged,

“Well, I can admit that I went looking for you.” Feeling a blush creep up on him, they tried fighting down his smile. Yanis turned to them fully, still with one elbow leaning on the table, they raised a brow. Giving Gerry a once-over. A short jerk of their head,

“Okay, und?” Gerry took a deep breath,

“You wanted to dance with me”, he shrugged,

“How about that invitation?” Yanis’ smile brightened a bit, stepping away from the table and coming closer. They offered him a hand,

“Your lead or mine?”

[scripttorture]

I was reading through your tags, and I came across your discussion of the Milgram experiment. I had no idea it was so poorly conducted, in high school psych people always talked about it like it was the final word on the matter. It’s actually great to hear people did argue with the authority. Anyway, I do have a question about the difference between torture and abuse. You reference torture leading to communities for both victims and torturers and abuse not (at least, not the same way). 1/2

2/2 How important is this idea of “competing communities” to the reality of torture (not the legal definition so much, but the practical effect it has on the world)? And how important do you think it is to reference/display/show that in a story? I want depict torture accurately in my novel -thanks to you- and while it’s legally torture, there’s no discussion of community there, and I want to make sure I don’t exclude it if that’s important. Thanks for your help! I’ve learned a lot from you.

-

I think this is where my lack of a psychology or sociology degree is a disadvantage because I’m not sure if you’re talking about an established theory and if you are it’s not a theory I’m familiar with.

 Given that I think the most helpful thing I can do is talk about what these communities can look like and the place of these communities in fiction.

 I’ve gotten to a point where writing about these sorts of communities and the effects on communities, on generations, is quite instinctive. I don’t remember ever having to actively look it up as a separate thing and that’s partly because I grew up outside of the West surrounded by people from different parts of Asia. It’s a lot easier to grasp what these things look like when you’ve seen it, even if it’s at a remove.

 The reading I did which touched on the topic immediately made sense, because I could tie it to people and places I knew. To the fallout from the gulf wars and the partition of India and Pakistan sheering in two (hell Bangladesh because that was a mess). These things cast long shadows.

 All of this means I might struggle a bit to explain some of this. So I’m sorry if this gets a bit messy.

 Communities of torture survivors will look different depending on the situation in your world. Some important questions to consider when building this into the story are:

Is torture still going on in this place?

Are the people who ordered/allowed torture still in power or has there been a regime change?

Are the survivors still in the country where they were tortured?

Are the things they were arrested for/accused of still crimes?

If there’s been a regime change or torture has become less common what happened to the former torturers?

If the survivors are in a different country what are their material circumstances and how welcome are they?

What practical means of support do the survivors have?

If the atrocities are no longer happening how much time has passed?

 Communities of genocide survivors in Rwanda (who have remained in Rwanda) will look different to Rohingya survivors who have fled to Bangladesh. Communities of people tortured for being queer look different in countries where homosexuality is still illegal compared to countries that have legalised it.

 I’m not a sociologist so my opinion on why that is just opinion. But we can still use the examples above to illustrate a little of what I’m getting at with the bullet point questions.

 A large proportion of Rwanda’s genocide survivors returned to their homes or at least their home country. A lot of the genocide was carried out by ordinary people. That means that the people who attacked, tortured and tried to kill them were often neighbours and acquaintances.

 A lot of these people still live in quite close proximity to the individuals that attacked them. I think Rwanda did it’s best to try and get justice for as many people as possible but logistically some estimates say around a million people were culpable for the genocide. A lot of people were never arrested and the trials of the 100,000 or so people that were, were slow and not always fair.

 Rwanda also had a change of government so the people heading the genocide trials and reorganising the country were not the people in power at the time of the genocide. (Not trying to say the RPF didn’t commit crimes too. But a change from the government that was torturing to new leaders tends to give people more confidence that the crimes of the former leaders will be treated seriously.)

 Contrast this to the situation many Rohingya are in today.

 I don’t think it’s controversial to say that the majority no longer live in their home country. There were an estimated 1-1.3 million Rohingya in Burma before the ongoing genocide. It isn’t clear how many people have been/are being killed but there are thought to be between 700,000 and a million Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh today*.

 The people responsible are still in power and there’s been no move to hold anyone accountable. There have been a couple of moves to return Rohingya to Burma, and the Rohingya have refused saying they’d be killed.

 Bangladesh… has not done a particularly good job of supporting the refugees. But they’re also a poor country dealing with a sudden influx of hundreds of thousands of people.

 These two situations have led to different different communities and different community pressures.

 I feel like I need to be a bit careful about what I say here as obviously I’m not part of either community.** I don’t want to put words in their mouths.

 My impression is that of communities of Rohingya survivors in Bangladesh things are still incredibly tense. Their general situation is unstable. The violence that drove them from their homes continues and the people responsible are still in power.

 My understanding is that there’s less community focus on healing and rebuilding and more focus on survival. Because unfortunately that’s the situation they’re in.

 My impression is that there’s been a lot more effort towards rebuilding and healing in Rwanda. Things like these counselling sessions and concerted efforts to reduce ethnic tensions do seem to have helped people move forward.

 Obviously the fact the Rohingya genocide is still happening and that Rwanda has had years to try and help survivors means this isn’t really a fair comparison. But the point here is to illustrate differing situations.

 To me the words ‘competing communities’ implies a situation where communities of torturers/former torturers and survivors are in close contact with each other. That’s not always the case. Survivors may end up in a different country. Torturers might be part of an occupying force that leaves- You get the idea.

 When these communities are living in close proximity there are still a lot of factors that can influence how they interact. Regime changes, justice and reconciliation efforts, support for mental health problems can all make a difference. Education and jobs can also make a difference.

 I’m honestly not sure whether de-radicalisation programs have ever been attempted for torture specifically.

 What I’m saying here is that (while I doubt a torture survivor is ever going to get along with someone who personally tortured them) I have heard stories where towns and villages containing a mix of people who were victimised by a regime and people who supported it have reconciled and been able to exist as a community. Even though some members of the community are never going to like or trust each other.

 Communities of torturers are… a lot more volatile. Rejali describes the toxic sub-culture torturers tend to build up in a lot of detail. It isn’t clear if this carries over into life after torture.

 The impression I get from interviews with torturers is that while the attitudes and beliefs may carry over former torturers don’t seem to stay in contact with each other. The group seems to form on the job and then fall apart without the job to hold them together.

 Now there is not a lot of research on torturers. So I honestly can’t say this is true. It’s a pattern in interviews but a dozen interviews do not a statistically relevant study make.

 I can confidentially tell you that most former torturers report social isolation after they stop and they seem to have difficulty forming and keeping relationships. It also seems likely that they have a high turn over rate (regimes can periodically purge them and their mental health problems can easily get them fired or reach a point where they quit.)

 So when I say ‘communities of torturers’ I’m mostly talking about numbers rather then an organised social structure. My impression is that apologists are more likely to do the work of organising then torturers.

 I’m going to try and bring this round to the question of what role communities and communal support can play in stories.

 Personally I think it’s something I’d like to see writers try to tackle more often. Especially since community can add a lot of depth to characters.

 I don’t think it should be considered essential to a narrative involving torture though.

 Torture means a large number of victims and communities of survivors. But not every survivor is going to be connected to those communities. Most Rohingya people have ended up in Bangladesh but not all of them have.

 Thinking about the victims of police torture in Chicago in the 80s, most of them were black and/or homeless. Given that particular segments of the population were targetted I think these groups could have processed this as a communal experience etc. But someone from a group that was less regularly targetted might not have had a way to access either community of survivors.

 Some victims end up isolated because they aren’t believed. With the rise in clean torture it’s become more common for things like ‘You weren’t tortured, you’re a spy and you gave them information willingly’ to be used to discredit survivors.

 And some victims end up isolated because their particular pattern of symptoms makes it hard for them to socialise.

 Some people just fall through the cracks. Some communities refuse to talk about or deal with torture when it’s happening around them. This… is not particularly healthy but it can come from a place of wanting to protect a survivor and reduce the risk of harm, especially if torture is still happening in the area and the people that ordered it are still in power.

 Isolation is a real problem. It is the experience of a lot of survivors. Especially at first. I don’t think there can be anything wrong with trying to portray that.

 Showing communities won’t work in every story. They take time to establish, demand more characters and when poorly handled they can steer the narrative away from the plot.

 However they can also bring some much needed relief to dark stories and create a lot more opportunities to show the variety and humanity of survivors.

 I am a little biased here. I love stories about people connecting and supporting each other in difficult circumstances. Including a community element is a very easy way to do that in a story.

 The kind of community your survivors characters have should be something that grows from the circumstances of the story.

 In a world where the Evil Empire was ousted survivors might feel able to meet in public to share their experiences or help each other. In a world where the Empire is still in power any meetings would be smaller, secretive and fraught with risk. Characters who have fled the Empire might find they have an easy connection to everyone else who’s fled. Regardless of where they come from.

 Is this something prior generations have had to contend with? If these things have been going on longer then there are more likely to be established community structures to support survivors even if it’s ‘smaller’ things like gifting neighbours meals.

 At the end of the day I think the details should be decided by what the story needs, what adds to it. Sometimes a community for the survivors characters will do that. Sometimes it won’t.

 I hope that helps :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*Some will have fled previous conflicts and have been in Bangladesh longer.

 **For those who don’t know this already my parents are English and Greek-Cypriot and I grew up in Saudi Arabia near Bahrain.

[imanes]

Hello imane! Because of the pandemic, I still have all my uni classes online & idk ive been feeling v stuck in life like ik everyone has and im v privileged compared to alot of people but just submitting assignments in the same old home environment everyday. Ik we all have to get through this but life feels joyless and dull. Just endlessly depressing. So i wanted to ask u how u idk made life exciting while u were working from home? Like any rituals or a routine or hobbies?

hi angel! tbh i don’t know if i’ve suceeded in making my home life very exciting in the last year, but there are a few things that helped. my desk used to face a wall and it got really old after a couple of weeks of always staring at purple paint all day long so i turned my desk around to face the window, and surprisingly that helped a lot. having the cats around definitely do a lot of good things for my mind too. i decluttered my space, i burn a candle every day, got a lot of comfy clothes to wear around the house. i also take showers during my lunch break lol. i have a thing for fancy drinks so i got myself quite the selection of teas, coffees and various drinks to prepare at different points throughout the day. taking walks got real old bc living in the city means taking ugly street upon ugly street for little pay-off so i don’t really have that outlet akjkfjgld. one thing that really helped me was making my own food and be diligent with my meals by making sure i was treating myself to things i wanted to eat and by trying new meals and prepping my own pickles and fermented foods! i feel proud of myself even when i make a sandwich bc i can put in stuff i pickled myself etc, and it constitutes a highlight of my day even if it’s based on something i made many days ago. i make sure i talk to my friends every day, even if it’s just to share memes. i’d say just little things make a whole lot of difference when you add them up. starting tomorrow i’m going to do that 30 day yoga challenge thing by adrienne something something because to be honest i have a LONG way to go when it comes to my physical health and i really need to start generating happy hormones by working out and involving myself physically into activities. as far as food for thought is concerned i’ve been following a lot of webinars on decolonisation, anti-racism and stuff, it’s a topic i’ve always been interested in and i feel very lucky to be able to assist to so many online conferences where scholars and activists come together to share their expertise.

as far as hobbies are concerned, i’ve taken up playing electric guitar a few weeks ago and i’m getting back into drawing and painting a little, but i wouldn’t say it’s something i’m doing to alleviate the constraints of working from home if that makes any sense, it’s more part of a long-term plan to be more creative. and as usual i read a lot! reading is my favorite thing to do, especially now that life is so boring and monotonous. fiction is literally making me feel alive by proxy as pathetic as it sounds lmao. but i’m not berating myself for that, and neither should you. yes there is a mountain of privilege involved in being able to work or study from home when so many are at the end of their rope. however, it does not invalidate the fact that after nearly a year of repetitive lockdowns, isolation and general threat to mental and physical health, there is a lot of people who feel at the end of their rope and are still trying to find the silver lining somewhere. i think a lot of people have started journaling, which is cool, and jotting down stuff they feel grateful about, which works for some people but for me it’d be counterproductive. it all comes down to trial and error and see what makes you feel alive. lately even doing my laundry has been a highlight of my days bc i love the smell of cleanliness (it’s the virgo in me...).

last but not least u can join our book club~ the link is in the bio. to be honest it’s a book club but it’s not mandatory to read, there are plenty of channels and it’s a nice occasion to chat with people about common interests. if you feel like socialising that is <3 just being able to chat about this or that w/ cool people in a positive space does wonder for my feelings of depression and loneliness.

ok i typed a lot but idk if this has been of any help lol i’m a boring person and i don’t do any spiritual stuff or think about mindfulness at all and i’ve got a laundry list of issues to deal with so i don’t even feel qualified to share advice but at the end of the day i just wanted to tell u that i wish u the best and that u find ur cruising speed, and that if u do and lose it for a bit, it doesn’t mean that u can’t get back on track!! i wish the both of us and everybody else a better future