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lunarmote · 2 years ago

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Revisiting Suicide Room (2011)

Watch the same movie at age 12, 19, 25 - you'll react to it differently.

Two nights ago I watched a Polish movie with my art school friend S called the Suicide Room (Sala Samobójców). I’d seen this movie before about 5 times. The movie is about a gay high schooler called Dominik who gets "outed" by his former friend in an embarrassing public accident, is made the laughingstock of his class, and spirals into a depression. He seeks refuge in an online VR game where he meets a depressed girl who seems to understand him... As the movie goes on, he gets more sucked into the virtual world and loses touch with the outside world.

It's a film that seems to have gained a bit of a following in certain circles. It's criticized for the same drama that its followers praise it for -- depicting what it's like to have teenage depression. And all at once I am puzzled by this supposed "charge" against the movie: that it's melodramatic. The fact that there seems to be such a clean divide between older people calling it over-the-top and funny, an exercise in teens taking themselves so seriously, and teenagers idolizing the characters for being true-to-life, indicates to me this movie IS effective at highlighting some kind of bridge in preferences or empathy.

What does it mean for a film to be overdramatic?

I mean, this isn't the first teen movie to be called sentimental, melodramatic. As for myself, the film has lost the poignancy it once had but I am still incredibly fond of it.

This was my favorite movie as a teenager. At age 14, I begged my mom to be homeschooled. My overworked single mom panicked - a straight-A student threatening not to go to school was unheard of. The school administration freaked, set up "counseling" sessions where all they could do was talk glibly, soullessly, about the importance of education.

I remember watching Suicide Room that night and telling my mom I was perfectly willing to write a 5-page essay on my own on how the film was so beautiful and truthful and that if all English assignments were like this I would have no problems with school. I learned so much more through empathizing with the characters of Dominik and Sylwia than I learned through any school assignment. (It's interesting how this film works - it distracts you from your own pain by convincing you to, for an hour and 30 minutes, sympathize with another person. You come into the film wanting vindication, but you come away from it feeling like you lost a friend. I wanted to save Dominik.)

The fact that teenage angst seems to be near-universal, and the fact that adults eventually overcome it (I'd argue they don't actually, as many adults seem to be living in some kind of low-grade feelinglessness) doesn't suggest to me at all that the pain teens face is out of proportion, or that teens lack "perspective." It suggests rather, that perhaps adults have lost the memories of what it's like as a teenager, or they have lost sympathy towards that time of their life, since many people seem so embarrassed by their high school selves they try to scrub clean any memories of them.

I guess I can talk a little more about the main character in the film, Dominik. He is an entitled, condescending, sheltered kid. He nonetheless has a deep desire to connect with another human being. In the depths of his pain he turns to Sylwia who at first seems to be the provider of psychological support (and this time around, I picked up on this more strongly) - Dominik's redemption lies in the fact that he was willing to sacrifice himself to alleviate the pain of someone he thought had it worse than him. But his deepest flaw was not realizing that he had it worse.

Isn't that what happens? Your immediate environment fails you so you turn to the Internet. You find a community. You're led there by your own pain but you stay because you empathize with others' pain. But to break free of the pain means to break free of community.

A very clever scene exists in the movie. Sylwia is using Dominik to get herself pills so she can overdose. Torn between the threat of her hate and his fear of losing her to suicide, he talks to his psychiatrist through the closed door of his room while being in a voice call with Sylwia. The psychiatrist doesn't realize his answers have the double intention of showing Sylwia that ultimately, he will do as she wishes (get the pills), but not without stating his piece. He says he doesn't want to die. He doesn't understand suicide. His voice strains and he starts tearing up as he speaks to both - he doesn't understand how people who commit suicide could do that to their loved ones.

I've always wanted to stay up all night with Dominik. As a teen I wished I could pause the movie and jump in-universe and get through to him somehow, before the fatal incident. I told him I would stay up all night with him and we could just talk about, you know, life and death and beauty and our willingness to live, because sometimes you just need a friend.

So the film is dramatic. That’s what it takes to save a life.

#suicide room #sala samobojcow #sala samobójców #film review

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anitacoknow · 4 years ago

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I'm feeling my emotions pretty hard today (June 14th, 2021), so it might be a good idea to start writing.

Trigger Warning:

This text post mentions suicide, death, abortion, and could be an uneasy read.

About two months ago, I almost died during a routine abortion. The way that sounds, my stomach turns and it makes the tears fall like a monsoon. Nothing about getting an abortion is easy, it is humiliating and it's a huge personal hurdle to deal with - my heart goes out to any woman who has been in that tough position. That being said, I'm not writing this for sympathy nor am I looking for negative comments or death threats, I put myself through that enough already with my own mental.

Starting this attempt to release my emotions is difficult because I'm not even sure what to say to myself. I guess I am also hopeful someone will have the right words through experience or just in general because I'm struggling to find the words within myself.

To begin, I can't have children anymore and that is the worst part; I made a decision that took future decisions, future generations, future plans away from me. So, to anyone who wanted to go in on me at the sight of the word abortion: fate ironically beat you to the punch.

I made a decision that my heart wasn't wholly in and it almost cost me my life and it cost my daughter's life (I don't need scientific fact proving she was just a clump of cells and hadn't begun processing pain or emotion or whatever, doesn't change shit as far as empathy goes, so please shove it).

Her birth name was to be Juniper.

To give some insight, Washington State allows abortions up to 28 weeks. For those who aren't aware of pregnancy cycles/trimesters, 28 weeks is still half way through the pregnancy and the beginning of the second trimester. The fetus during this stage has become more human like and all that science stuff. I had my abortion at 21 weeks, in a clinic and the process shouldn't have gone the way it did.

On the second day of my procedure, I was put under anesthesia and when I woke up I wasn't all there. Before this, I had never experienced being put under anesthesia to my recollection, so what I thought I was feeling was normal. It wasn't until I realized I had been losing conciousness that things started to feel unnatural. I was laid on the floor of the "recovery room" and I started to regain conciousness fast. There was a lot of blood between my legs and mentioning it to them seemed to make the blood pool more. It wasn't long after that the doctor that performed the procedure squated next to me to tell me she needed to put me back under.

For the next bit, I apologize to the squeamish.

There was another woman in the room with me who had just come out of her own anesthesia, she was ironically a CNA, who started to show signs of worry when I wasn't making the anticipated recovery. The doctor had her removed from the room and leaned back in to tell me that they couldn't locate the fetal head and a few limbs. When they attempted to have me walk back to the room, I fainted and was placed back on the floor. The nurses wheeled me into the surgical room and helped me back on to the table, to which I protested them allowing me to see my ride. I'm hesitant to mention the father in this because it is sensitive, so I apologize for how he is mentioned in further comments. It wasn't until I saw him that things started to blur and I started losing conciousness again.

I feel it is also important to explain what I felt, which was extremely cold. My nipples were harder than they had ever been and despite the numerous blankets, warmed and otherwise, that were placed on me, my body didn't feel warmth until the EMTs carted me to the ambulance and the sun touched me; and again when I was placed on the surgical table at the hospital. Mentally, I don't think I was aware of anything bad happening to my body. Even after hearing they lost the fetal head, I don't think I ever reacted. If I had to say, I was mentally blissful - which isn't something I have ever experienced. I literally couldn't care less, everything was a joke (which is also part of my personality when dealing with assumed stressful situations) to me up until I arrived at the ER and they put me under before telling me that they might have to remove my whole uterus. My last words would have been: "oh, this table is so warm!" to the doctor who saved my life. When I woke up 24 hours later, there was a tube in my throat and I was tied to the bed (which Hollywood doesn't show in movies or T.V. so when you are experiencing it, it is really scary and it fucking hurts.) in ICU.

So, what the fuck happened?

Well, my uterus at the time of the abortion was about 2 pounds heavy and 2 feet long; Juniper was about the size of a sweet potato to give you an image. During the abortion, the doctor perforated my uterus, the length of the tear was about a foot long according to my surgeon/aftercare doctor. The abortion itself was supposedly no more than 10 minutes, but I was apparently under for roughly an hour. My ride expected me out in two hours, but after speaking to him, started to worry when I hadn't responded to texts and the elapsed time came to four hours. During the removal of the fetus, after perforation had occurred, I laid there internally bleeding for several hours. The human body can hold minimum 5 litres of blood (or to give you an physical idea, a gallon [US] of milk about) depending on the size of the body and health. A human can die from losing 2 litres of blood, but I survived after losing 4 litres internally, which is probably what saved my life. I vaguely remember being lifted on to the gurney and I vaguely remember the ride to the ER. I was given 7 units of blood, my uterus was stitched in 8 layers and the fetal head had nestled itself behind my kidney, so I had an emergency cesarean, plus a JP drain placed to remove all the blood that pooled in my abdomen.

The hospital experience itself is a different story and makes the whole ordeal just as sad. The only solace I had were two nurses that really didn't judge me, outside of that, everyone there had an opinion and wore it on their face and in their treatment. My last interaction with one of the doctors who helped performed my "miraculous" surgery and was probably the most surprising bit because it included a little racism. My partner is white and he is cisgender. Before his appearance, said doctor largely made fun of my pain tolerance when removing surgical tape from my incision area and inner thighs. If you haven't had a cesarean or don't know exactly what it is, after making the initial incision, the doctors have to literally tear the muscles apart to get to your uterus. In my case, I also had to have my intestines removed to get to my kidneys. Needless to say, my midsection was very sensitive outside of my low pain threshold. During the stint, he very angrily asked me if I wanted to remove the bandage myself while showing his frustration in his whole body and face. At that point, I just said fuck it and let him tear the bandage from my body with a little skin along with it. After a quick look, he stood up and asked if I cared if he left to deliver a baby and he didn't wait for a response, I assume because my face probably said exactly what he wanted. I sat there and cried until my partner got there and when he showed face again, his bedside manner gave me whiplash. He released us after I made a large fuss about my care and I left holding back tears until we were out of sight of the hospital.

The day before I almost died, I sat with the owner of the clinic who also doubles as a nurse there, and cried to her about my fear and the little consolation I had because she was kind. I have had two previous abortions during a previous marriage that I also didn't want to have, but being in an abusive relationship, you give and take a lot, that included. I confided in her that those two experiences, both at Planned Parenthood, were riddled in racist bedside manner and left me uneasy about abortions and clinics in general. Being a woman of color herself, she cried with me and assured me that things would be fine, in fact the woman doing my abortion would also be a woman of color. She called me two days later, I could hear her sadness, but it also left me in such a state of panic that I ended the conversation without saying much.

Women of color do not have great mortality rates when it comes to medical intervention, especially during pregnancies/child birth. However, uterus perforation during an abortion only occurs at a rate of .3%, so I'm part of a medical anomaly (it isn't an anomaly at all, she just fucked up). Beyond that, women of color, specifically black women are more likely to suffer from medical racism during aftercare. One of the biggest glaring problems being that black women are percieved to have a high pain threshold, something a lot of people lack.

Since this experience, which is missing a lot of detail, I've gone in an out of depressive mania. Which, to say the least, I can handle because I've dealt with it for years. What I can't handle are commercials, or even cherub faces in person, or the fact that my step-sister announced her pregnancy to our parents on mother's day. I can't handle the notifications of memories from my pictures that spotlight some of the photos I took during my pregnancy. I can't handle that my neighbors had just moved in and had just given birth right before being released from the hospital. Movie montages about children growing up making lumps swell in my throat. For the first few weeks I would wake up screaming, or crying, or begging whoever not to take my baby from me. I tried to cope with sex that I couldn't realistically have because I was healing. I took up smoking cigarettes again because it is the only thing I could physically feel relax my incision area. My daughter, who is 9 years old, asks me how I'm doing when I don't realize I'm zoned out and crying.

Overall, I wish they would have let me die. It isn't like I haven't tried to kill myself before and I always secretly hoped I'd find a way to just go peacefully. Of all my attempts at suicide, the most serious was drinking bleach and all I got from that was minor chemical burn in my esophagus.

Sitting there during my last follow up, knowing damn well I wasn't going to get good news, I asked the doctor who saved my uterus and life if I could safely get pregnant. I was told by another I could have a child, but it would most likely be harrowing because my uterus wouldn't be able to house a full term fetus and they would most like be born premature. There was also another possibility she kept from me, which my doctor with a penchant for being very frank said: "would end up taking my uterus or almost killing me."

Word for word: if I get pregnant, my uterus would rupture at the healed incision.

And what, what am I supposed to think or feel now that my worst fear finally materialized? I'm realistically mad at myself for materializing my greatest fear. I also hate myself for being so upset at something I caused because I know others are in my situation for reasons beyond their control.

I thought writing this would make me feel better, would make it so I wouldn't have to mentally relive it, but I just feel worse. My partner lost his job because he took a leave of absence to take care of me and that's to say nothing of him taking time off at the beginning of the year because he needed brain surgery. The job I had interviewed for earlier in the week kept my position open, but on returning to work found I couldn't keep my anxiety to a minimum and eventually asked for leave of absence. So now, we are struggling financially and I blame myself for that too, which I know I shouldn't.

I can't begin to explain how unsure and confused I feel every day. Some times I find myself pacing or walking around and I don't even know what I'm doing. Hearing or seeing emergency vehicles makes me panic. I've had to force myself to look down during driving because I'm so fucking scared.

Idk, I'm sorry to whoever is reading this. I just needed to vent.

#mentally drained #near death experience #abortion #black lives matter #selflove #mental dump #creative release #writing therapy #mental heath support #mental wellbeing #talking to myself #talking it out

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creatingquirks · 4 years ago

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Hello! I’m here for a quirk matchup bc it looks so cool 👁👄👁 I got HELLA déjà-vu writing this so maybe I already asked you and I just forgot?? I don’t know;; if so, please tell me and no need to stress on it, you can just re-direct me lol

I’m sorry I’m advance for the length I’m just a very thorough person in general-

I’m a Taurus, INTJ girl

My hobbies include, well— I have a matchup blog and I spend a lot of time working on matchups so I guess that’s a hobby of mine? Another hobby I have is CrossFit! Aside from that I enjoy psychological thrillers and listening/exploring music.

My biggest pet peeve is probably people who are ignorant? I get easily frustrated when I’m in class and other students ask questions that the professor LITERALLY just answered, I just feel like it’s a waste of (my) time. Another one is loud chewing. And especially if it’s the only noise in the room. It’s so gross and when it happens my biggest temptation is just to leave.

A thing I’d say I’m good at is,, sports technique?? I’m a fairly quick learner and I’m super competitive so I’ve always caught on quickly to sports because I was so hellbent on winning or proving myself

I’m HORRIBLE with sympathy, or empathy, or just other people’s feelings in general. I have a high IQ, but a frighteningly low emotional intelligence and while I try my best, sometimes I just don’t understand why people react the way they do (unless I’ve been in their shoes before) so I say blunt or accidentally harmful things to them without exactly meaning it?? I’m TRYING to learn I SWEAR-

I’m introverted, leaning towards ambivert in a way that I can handle myself very well in social situations (people usually think I’m an extrovert) but after a few hours I get so emotionally drained that I just have to sit there and zone out.

I’m a very,, eccentric person. When it comes to my behaviour, I’ll be weird if I want to be weird and if people don’t like that then it’s their issue. I apparently look scary but right when I open my mouth you can see that I’m friendly?? Just on the loud side of friendly. I have a very versatile sense of humour and I tend to strive on making people laugh and giving sarcastic comments all the time. Not many people do to get on my bad side, but if someone does manage that feat then I simply shut them out from my life as a whole because I honestly believe that I’m a good person to have as a friend and if you don’t deserve me, then you shouldn’t have me.

For quirk types, I’d like to leave it all to you! It’s not like I’d have a choice in I was assigned a quirk at birth anyways lolol

Hi, hope you like this!

I give you.......

Golden Eagle

Quirk type: mutant

Quirk summary: you have the abilities of a golden eagle like it’s senses reflexs, and some of its physical traits. You have eagle eyesight, along with a pair of golden eagle wings that are proportional to your size, and you have super sharp talons in your feet, and gain retractable ones of your hands.

Drawbacks: since your wings are so big the can get in the way of somethings.

#bnha imagines #bnha quirks #mha quirks #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #mha imagines #mha matchup #bnha matchup #matchups #matchup

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gothic-safari-clown · 4 years ago

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The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 14: How Could You?

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve

Word count: 1530

Brief explanation of El’s fear hallucination

Elianna awoke the next morning with a sore throat, a headache, and a dull ache in her wrists and ankles. With a groan, she rolled onto her stomach, half hoping to suffocate herself in the pillow. She gave up on that after a few seconds, reaching for her phone to check the time.

8:37? I'm late for work. Shit.

She scooped herself out of bed as quickly as possible, fighting off all the various pains in her body, and stumbled to the bathroom. She was halfway through brushing her teeth when Jonathan entered with a mug of coffee, which he placed on the counter next to her.

She recalled the night before and how angry she was with him for leaving her alone there.

But she was in no position to refuse coffee, so she finished brushing her teeth and rinsed her mouth before taking the mug from him with a glare.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ugh," she shook her head, pulling her makeup bag closer to her.

"Alright, stop getting ready; I already called in. You're taking a sick day, and I'm taking care of you." El shoved the bag away from her again and picked up her coffee as she walked to the kitchen for breakfast. Jonathan rolled her eyes at her tantrum and followed her; this was clearly about more than hating mornings.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong? You're the one that insisted on doing it."

"Yeah, I am." She retorted angrily, slamming a cabinet shut. "And you left me alone in there." Jonathan was taken aback, both by the statement and by her anger. It had been a long time since he had seen her like this, but it had never been directed at him or anyone else who didn't deserve it.

"What are you talking about? I was in the room with you the whole time."

"No, you weren't! I thought you would be, but I looked over, and there was someone else there, and you were gone, don't lie to me!" He raised his hands in surrender and slowly walked closer.

"Elianna, listen to me. I didn't get up from that seat until you finally passed out, okay? Just think about it, whoever you saw sitting in that seat was just projected over me." Her glare didn't falter for a second as he spoke, but he could tell that she was thinking. "Why would I lie to you about this, of all the things I could have lied about since you've known me?"

She didn't reply to that, and the glowering look never left her face, but she looked away from him, clearly considering his words very carefully. Eventually, her brow softened, and she put her face in her hands, shaking her head.

"No, you're right." She strained, pushing her hair out of her face. "You're right. I'm sorry, I just got agitated; it made me a little fragile."

"That's better." Jonathan nodded. "Let's go sit, and you can tell me about what you saw, and then we can have breakfast because I get the feeling that this should take priority." El bobbed her head in agreement, and they walked together to sit on the couch.

Over the next few minutes, she explained everything she had seen; the shadows (explaining that the one in his seat clearly represented Zsasz), the spiders, the holes (when she got to that part, she began to scratch nervously), and finally the way the shadows had broken her bones before she lost consciousness.

"How long would you say that it lasted?" Jonathan asked clinically, his face inscrutable.

"I don't know, maybe...half an hour?" It was a low estimate. Her first estimate had been a full hour, but she knew that the trauma could have affected her sense of time. Even so, she was shocked when Jonathan shook his head.

"Actually, it was about fifteen minutes. A little less, maybe." He took in her look of surprise and confusion. "I know it's disorienting. Do you have any questions?" El thought for a moment.

"I understand most of it, I know what I'm afraid of, but I just don't get why Shadow Zsasz took your place instead of just coming with the other one. I mean, does that mean that I'm somehow afraid of you?"

"No, the toxin changes your perception of your environment, that includes people. That being said, I think there is a reason, but it's more abstract than physical."

That would make sense. El knew that she had some mild abandonment issues, and the way that Jonathan explained it, that was the best explanation she could come up with. It made sense that she would be afraid of Jonathan leaving her behind, given that he was the only person of significance in her life. The initial shock had worn off, and after the constructive conversation that they had had, she now found herself preoccupied with other things.

"So...they're not going to have a problem with me taking the day off, are they? I mean, I've barely been here for a month."

"El, I think if anything, they'll be relieved that you're taking a personal day. After everything with Zsasz, people were surprised that you would even go back to work."

"What can I say? I'm a fighter." She grinned. "Breakfast?"

"Breakfast." They returned to the kitchen, and El thought about the duration of the hallucination. It had felt so real and so long. I guess that's the point, though, isn't it?

"So, fifteen minutes? Is that a normal amount of time for that strain?" He shook his head.

"When I first tested it, they all lasted closer to half an hour, like you thought." He ran a hand through his hair. "I normally don't continue to test a formula once I make a new one. Now I'm wondering if the effects don't last as long if the batch is older, or if that was specific to you."

It was an interesting thought. The deeper she fell into this plot, the fascinated she became with the idea.

Purely professionally, of course, for the science of it. It was strange to admit that she had always had a hard time empathizing with people. Sympathy was easy enough to fake through, but empathy was a different beast entirely. However, her experience with the fear toxin had made it incredibly easy to empathize with its victims.

Not Zsasz. He had deserved the treatment, and she was sure that given another chance to do it again that she would take it gladly. But even her recent harsh thought that the people of Gotham all deserved punishment (or release, depending on the type of person), now that she had experienced the effects for herself, it was hard to hold onto that thought.

She knew it would happen one way or another, regardless of her level of involvement, so the best option was just to keep with it to avoid the fallout. And she didn't necessarily feel the need to prevent the city's apocalypse, but maybe she would keep her interest in the project purely for educational purposes.

"Well, can't you just test it on someone else?" Jonathan pulled it over.

"I suppose we could run it on Zsasz. I have just enough left of that batch for him, although his previous exposure may skew the data..."

"I mean, it's not like you'll be using an old formula for the attack. This test would just be for your own edification. In which case, the fact that it still works should be enough." He turned his head and gave her a look, a sly smile on his face.

"You just want to poison Zsasz again." El flushed slightly, stammering for a response.

"Now that I know what it's like," she began defensively, "I feel like I might be able to follow his experience a little better. Appreciate it more." He just looked at her, still with the corners of his lips turned up knowingly.

"Whatever you want, El. Sometime this week, I promise. I've been developing a new recipe as well. I think it'll maximize the potency; maybe you'd like to help me mix the testing batch." She nodded. It would satisfy a curious thought to watch the toxin be made.

"I'd be happy to."

"Good." She could see a thought cross over his face before he spoke again. "I'll need to run an errand later today. It shouldn't take long."

"Oh. Where are you going?"

"That woman from the DA's office, if she thinks I'm doing something, then she isn't going to stop until she finds out. I'm going to see if there's something that can be done about her."

Elianna decided that she'd rather not know what that meant or who he was meeting about this particular issue. Unsure of exactly what to say, she offered a noncommittal, "good luck," in response.

The rest of the morning passed without incident: breakfast, idle conversation, followed soon by Jonathan getting dressed and heading off to...wherever he was going.

What exceptionally convoluted bullshit I've gotten myself into this time.

#the mind's power over the body #Jonathan Crane #scarecrow #batman begins #Nolanverse #Elianna Montgomery #jonathan crane x ofc #Attraction To The Insane #multi chapter fic #fanfiction #slight au #cillian murphy #cillian murphy scarecrow #tmpotb chapter 14

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localrobosexual · 5 years ago

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hewwo my fwiends it's currently real Loving Seaside Hours™ again as spurred by talking to a blessed pal of mine earlier today about our comfort characters, so as I'm tryina ride out this thunderstorm going on outside so I can actually go to sleep I'm just gonna take a moment and gush about this robot and how and why he means so much to me, that alright w y'all lmao

putting a breaker on this bc I already know it's gonna get long and ramble-y lmao. Not gonna mind if u skip this over and don't bother reading it, I just wanna kinda shout into the void about my ocs a bit, don't mind me!

HEY SO YEE I JUST RLLY RLLY LOVE MY BIG DUMB ROBOT SO SO MUCH AAAAAA HE MEANS THE WORLD TO ME AND I COULD NEVER SELL OR TRADE HIM EVER AND I JUST WISH I HAD MORE DISPOSABLE INCOME TO USE TO JUST BUY MORE COMMISSIONS OF HIM BECAUSE GOD EVERY TIME I DRAW HIM AND EVERY TIME SOMEONE ELSE DOES TOO MY HEART JUST FUCKIN SWELLS W LOVE AND HAPPINESS!!!!! THIS ONE LITTLE TRANSFORMERS OC DOES THAT MUCH!!!!!!!! AND ITS GREAT!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAA

ok but. For real now, besides my initial screams that I had to get out hksjdks. Y'all wanna hear some insight into what all went into making him and why he means so much to me and all. Strap in bc it's gonna get Real

let's start with something pretty well known. Maybe not coming from me but a well known fact regardless lmao. Truth be told I wrote out from the paragraph below this one to the bottom without writing an introduction first and I'm too tired to try to come up with anything good now so uh. Hopefully this isn't too jarring hkshdksk my bad y'all my bad.

Anyways. Mental health! Fucked mental health! that's so much fun right!!

Haha yeah. Nah. We all know this. Being depressed is rlly wack y'all. It fuckin messes up ur head big time. I still don't know if I have downright depression, because I still haven't been properly diagnosed, and I never rlly associated my symptoms and the way I was feeling with depression bc it didn't line up with the stereotypical symptoms of depression, so I was (and still am) just calling it my "existential crisis". That was rlly the only word I could use to describe it. And it was dark and it was lonely and crushing and so, so awful. Despite the fact that I had an extremely loving and supportive friend group, I was always, ALWAYS afraid of speaking up about it. Despite them and all, I still felt super SUPER alone in the way I was feeling about life, my future, and my general purpose. This was all just reinforced by my parents and other adults in my life who I tried to come to in the past who would brush me off by saying I was overreacting, or that I'll "figure it out, because everybody does", or just generally not really understanding or showing any empathy at all. It took my entire life up until SENIOR YEAR ENGLISH CLASS when I went to my teacher about how I was feeling about a certain project that was triggering my symptoms, and that was the first time in my life when any adult had actually shown any sort of understanding or sympathy towards me and my feelings. That was the first time in my life where my mental struggles were validated by someone I respected and held to high regard.

But I still felt so very very alone, with no one to really talk to or who I knew was going through the same thing as me. So I ended up just,, , making someone who did.

Fun fact, before I really went ham on his development, Seaside was just gonna be a one-off oc with a happy go-lucky attitude and not much else about him. It was only until I heard the song What We Will Never Know (which later ended up becoming one of his theme songs bc of this) for the first time that I decided "WAIT,,. ,, BUT,, , WHAT IF,,. , ,,, , I MADE HIM SAD TOO" pretty much hkHKDJDJSK and that's what kick started his development!!

here I was, this sad, depressed, deeply lonely bitch with a love for making characters who played on extensions of myself, finally able to make something to cope with how awful I was feeling all the time. And that's what Seaside kinda was to me at first, he was my coping mechanism for working through hard bouts of my existenial crisis. I crafted his backstory to fit EXACTLY what I was going through at the time. He was content but never truly happy with how his life had been for as long as he could remember, then something exciting and new happens and he's suddenly thrust into a brand new world with so many new possibilities, but as he starts to settle in he realizes just how lost and alone he truly is in this new environment and he doesn't know where to go or what to do with himself. This is literally, EXACTLY a point-to-point retelling of my experience going through high school, graduating, and trying to figure out what to do with my life all with my mental health rapidly deteriorating around me. And having someone like that in my life, even fictional, even one I literally made up myself, made me feel better. I'd daydream scenarios of of us going on little adventures at the beach at night where no one else would see him in robot mode (gotta keep up the disguise aspect and all), but mostly it was just us hanging out, usually cuddled up to each other bc it gets cold on the beach at night, looking up at the stars, chillin and talking and just taking comfort in each other's presences and knowing that we weren't alone in our struggles. And I KNOW that sounds super stupid and cringey and dumb but like, that's genuinely what made, and still does, make me happy and it's what I used to help me hold on just a little longer to get through some of the really rough periods of my existenial crisis. When it got super bad, when I still even couldn't tell my closest friends about how low I was feeling, I still at least had Seaside with me to help me cope.

it wasn't until it got to the point where I was pretty much (lovingly) forced to wake up to the reality that I was rapidly becoming genuinely suicidal that things finally started to change, even just a little bit. I only very recently finally started to get my mind right, I finally told my parents the whole truth about how I was feeling, I got put on some meds that are honestly doing WONDERS for me rn, and I'm definitely in a much better place mentally then I was just a few months ago. I certainly still have a long way to go, but for now I'm just trying to enjoy the ride and just soak up and relish in the fact that I'm, for the first time in years, genuinely going about my days just happy to be out here living life without constantly being weighed down by the soul crushingly empty sorrow that hung over me 24/7. (and to said close group of friends, if you're indeed reading this, this may be the first time you're hearing about what I've been going through all the time, and if that's the case, I'm gonna have to kindly ask that you not come to me about it. I'll know when I'm ready to talk about this openly, but now I don't think I am. I'm really sorry to have kept it from y'all for so long, it really was just eating me up inside, but I think I explained myself well enough)

so now that I'm doing much better mentally, Seaside's outlook has kinda changed, but at the same time, not really?? he's still my comfort character for sure, always will be, but now he's not so much a coping mechanism as he is just a solid source of happiness and peace to turn to every now and again. This one little transformers oc just genuinely makes me really really happy, and I love to just soak it all in and feel every little thing!! We still share the not knowing what we're doing with our lives aspect of ourselves, but now it's a little less completely lost and anguished and hopeless and a little more hopeful and reassuring. Things are gonna be ok. We'll figure this out at our own pace. And we'll still have each other to turn to at every step of the way.

there's a lot of different kinds of comfort energies that many different kinds of comfort characters give off, and different ones resonate more with different people. The most common one I'll see at least is a kind of is parental comfort, someone you can come to for guidance in life because they have the experience to advise you on what to do and can be almost a better pseudo-parental figure. Mom friend types, loving dad energy, that kind of thing. Someone to protect you and give you big strong hugs and stuff. Seaside gives off a similar yet very different kind of comfort energy to me. It's not parental in any way because he's far too young (relatively, even in Cybertronian standards. He'd be like, mid to late 20s in human years) and inexperienced, and, frankly, still a little too naive and unknowing about a lot of things to really be someone to turn to for guidance or just generally be a pseudo-parental figure, but instead, he's just a good friend. He's a perfect kind of friend that'd stand by your side and will always be there for you through the ups and downs of life, someone who knows how to cheer you up when you're sad, someone you can share a solidarity in where you know you're experiencing the exact same struggles. He's just a good shoulder to lean on and a constant reminder that I'm never alone. And I couldn't ask for anything better tbh

so yeah. There's my ramble I guess lmao. To sum it up rlly I just love this big dumb robot w all my heart and soul and I'm so so glad I made him 💕💕💕

#words of meg #meg's ocs #seaside #ramble #tw: suicidal thoughts #existenial crisis #i debated writing this at all but i really need to just go and make myself Actually Do the things i Want To Do w my ocs so #yee #even if i get little to no feedback thats ok #i still made something #so this is kinda my attempt at trying to start that lmAO #rlly poured my heart out here huh #oof lmao

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everydaymamaof3 · 5 years ago

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An awakening in a new decade...

2020, A new decade. A decade where we seem to be a bit more awakened to the world and to all of the bs, corruption and harm in it! We care about our planet and it’s species, more now than ever...and it’s funny because this was the prediction for 2012. The mayans predicted an awakening felt across the world. So maybe this awakening is just a little bit late.

For me personally, it’s also a bit of an awakening, this is an amazing decade ahead, of things I’ve manifested. I plan to expand my business. My first born daughter is getting married, and has followed her career dreams. My husband is doing incredibly well in his position. My girls are thriving. My friendships are genuine and real. My self esteem is on point. My focus is clear. My goals are precise. But it wasn’t always this way. And I will continue to be a work in progress. I manifested my main goal in life, to be a good mom, inspiring, and an honest role model. Even though I made some terrible choices in the past, I still managed to do this. You are not your past.

Some things that I’ve learned from the last decade about myself are, I still suffer a very small amount, from insecurities due to other people’s views of me. It’s psychological I’ve realized. It’s from emotional trauma through my period of self destruction. People can be so cruel. There’s no way to sugar coat this. And through my difficult time, other people’s views affected me more than they’ll ever know. Whispering, judging, spreading rumours...it DESTROYS people. It took me 12 years of clarity, to finally feel and realize that people do this out of their own insecurities. A good trick I’ve learned, is to look for the good in people, and ask yourself, why are they the way they are? Why do they find me so interesting. Why do they whisper about others? Why do they treat people that way? Why do they need other people to make them feel whole? When you turn bitterness, jealousy, and envy, into empathy or even sympathy and curiosity, and start to think about them and their choices and surroundings, it’s much easier to swallow and to move past it. And you know what, if you have these feelings, that is OK! Whether people are or aren’t judging you. If you didn’t have these feelings, you wouldn’t be human! We all get jealous, or envious, or insecure. Just figure out how to deal with it. How to release it. It’s NOT your burden to carry what others think of you.

I’ve learned that my body is beautiful, I love it. It brought me my beautiful daughters. My husband finds it sexy. He loves my curves, my strong arms, and even my little bit of cottage cheese on the backs of my thighs. Yep I said it. And cellulite sucks. Bless sarongs.

We live in an era now where social media is taking over the world, almost forcefully it seems. It’s become a normal part of our lives. It’s how people communicate, stay in touch, blog, inspire, sell, promote, complain...which isn’t great, but hey, better out than in (wise words from Shrek). People are open about anxiety and depression and panic attacks, and the struggles of parenthood, and many more struggles, and it’s much more normalized now, because it IS part of being human. A big trend in society is wellness. Documentaries on thinking yourself well, how the mind and attitude contribute to your overall health. Which, I mean, how great is that? There’s a huge abundance of it on social media.

I personally get anxiety from time to time, I recognize it, I share it, using writing to express myself, I move past it, and I find a lot of inspiring, real life women from across the globe, posting about the very same thing, and how they personally cope and manage. It’s a great tool for advice, tips and feeling human.

Exercise is my go to for EVERYTHING! Same routine for the past 10 plus years. Up early, coffee, workout, start the day. I love working out in the comfort of my home, I didn’t always, but once I got into a good groove, I really started to love it, and as I’m aging, I’m also noticing more tweaks and pangs in my body, so I listen. I alternate workouts, whether it’s running, or yoga, or HIIT, or my newest passion, spin!

I feel good, I feel fit, I’m not skinny. I’m strong, and maintaining muscle mass as we age is crucial in keeping our bodies strong, so if I can emphasize one thing, it’s be, and stay active. Good for mental health and good for physical health. And please don’t diet! It’s a short term solution! Be patient and consistent with just a well balanced diet, smaller portions, better choices, vegan is seriously amazing, and do something active everyday for at least 20 minutes.

Now back to the social media thing...it’s a wonderful tool, but it’s also a very damaging tool to people suffering from low self esteem or who are comparison living. I find myself getting caught up in it too sometimes. And I notice my emotions drastically change. I don’t feel great, and it turns into irritation, and mood swings. Hmmm irritation and mood swings from scrolling social media? Sound familiar? Yeah...because it happens to most of us. What is it exactly? Jealousy? Annoyed? Just an overload of pretend? Comparing? So guess what...change it. Unfollow. Hide. Or eliminate. Anyone who doesn’t make you feel good when you see their picture or post, should not be on your feed. My biggest goal this year and forward, quality in life, over quantity. “The little red heart on Instagram is now widely considered currency for public approval” ~ Health Canada How unhealthy does that sound?

Some don’t like my honesty, but I’ll never change who I am because of it. I like to share personal and honest so that whomever out there, even if it’s just one person, can read it, and exhale and feel normal or not alone.

You don’t have to accept aging if you don’t want to. You can express being overwhelmed. You don’t have to be a part of something that you can’t be yourself in. You don’t have to go to that family function. You don’t have to please people. An actual statistic, 64% of women have people pleasing coping mechanisms!!! 64%!! That’s 6.5 out of 10 women are trying to please others at the cost of what?

You are the only person who can protect your peace and those who matter in your life, really don’t mind. Remember my blog about the ripple affect. It’s very real. Push yourself to be or do what you don’t really want to be or do, and watch it ripple down into other aspects of your life. Relationships shift, weight shifts, work is harder than normal, motivation tanks...it all gets affected when you aren’t living true to yourself. And when I say true to yourself, I mean, when you are feeling at your best, not questioning anything, or putting yourself in uncomfortable situations, when you feel like the best version of you, stop and take note of what’s exactly going on in your life, and strive for more of that. It’s not all gonna be perfect, there’s always gonna be ebbs and flows...but you shouldn’t be living everyday feeling awful on the inside, but smiling on the outside. Reach out. Or write it down and burn it. Find a way to get back to you. Have a time out.

Surround yourself with people who truly inspire you. Who are consistent in their behaviour. Who you feel really good around. Not unsure, or uneasy. That, my friends is your intuition speaking to you when you don’t feel quite right around a person or people, or in a situation you shouldn’t be in. Listen to it.

Yes it’s great to step out of your comfort zone, but not at the cost of your peace.

I used to feel bad about being such a home body, I’m missing this and that, but in the past few years I’ve stopped feeling bad about it, because this time, right now, this tiny window of time that I have with my kids is so valuable and important to ME personally. Travelling with my family, weekend activities, downtime.. I’ll have all the time in the world to do other things when they’re grown. And that’s just me. Some women thrive on ALL of it! And you are amazing too! I feel overwhelmed and get run down easily if I pile my plate too high...maybe because I’m an energy absorber? Maybe not. But I’ve learned that I don’t function at my best on mom auto pilot. I’ve learned though to say, I’m tapping out, BEFORE the eruption of motherhood. That’s part of getting to know yourself. Time with your spouse. Time out. You time.

Don’t set unrealistic goals, don’t force yourself to do things you don’t wanna do, celebrate yourself with self care as much as you can, confide in your spouse, or closest confidantes, and nobody else, change jealousy and bitterness to empathy and curiosity about why people are the way they are. And use challenges with people as growth.. what did I learn from this.

Everyone’s fighting a battle we know nothing about! Even the happiest people in the world have struggles now and again!

I’m enjoying the shift I see happening in the universe. People calling people out for their wrong doings. Not accepting that in our world more and more. Reusing more. Not ashamed to state we buy used. Used clothing is no longer taboo! People are spending more time with family. More time getting to know themselves, FOMO is becoming a thing of the past, as it’s now trendy to enjoy being a homebody, listening to a podcast. Women are empowering each other more than ever. If a woman is body shamed by one or two, one hundred or two hundred are defending her. Magazine covers are curvy women, elderly women, disabled women...and they’re just as beautiful, as any model that graced the covers in the past. Men are allowed to cry and show emotion, and promote being family men and active dads over “bread winners and workaholics”. Skinny is out. Healthy is in. Strong is in. Kindness is in. Vegan is in. So even though the world still seems a bit scary, it is shifting...focus on the positives. And allow yourself to have days where you see the negatives, but don’t stay there, allow it, move on. You are human. It’s not only unrealistic, but unfair to yourself to not have bad days! They’re growth days ♥️

Living your life simply, true to yourself, focused on the right priorities, knowing you are loved, and giving love back, is how you manifest all the goodness and goals and dreams. Living otherwise is putting a block on allowing good things into your life ✨ Just be you and watch the magic happen.

#balance #realtalk #realmoms #healthylifehealthymind #beyourownmotivation #justdoyou #womenswellness

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whitewolfofwinterfell · 5 years ago

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Hi! I haven't followed you for long and I would love to get to know you better. So maybe you could talk about your favorite characters and what you love about them? xxx

Hey lovely! It’s great to hear from you!

I have too many favourite characters to name so I’ll just choose the ones that come to mind:

Prue Halliwell (Charmed)

Anyone that’s been following me for a while will know Prue Halliwell is my favourite character of all time. I grew up watching Charmed and as a child I always loved how strong and badass Prue was. As I matured and grew up I realised my love for Prue went a lot deeper than that. I love Prue’s strength and resillience, her devotion and ambition, the way she took responsibility for her family and always prioritised the well-being of others above herself including strangers. She was never afraid to do what’s right or what she believed in no matter how hard it may be. She was confident, self-assured, loyal, intelligent, independent and courageous. I honestly just love everything about Prue’s character. I could talk about her all day, so I best cut it short. The main reason I love her is because I see in Prue Halliwell the kind of woman I would wish to be.

Jon Snow (Game of Thrones)

I’m still very sensitive about Jon after the final season of Game of Thrones, just to pre-warn you haha. I love Jon because he was always an outsider and an outcast, even in his own home; someone that was unimportant and overlooked, but that through his skills and qualities was able to achieve incredible things. Just like Prue he always does what he felt was right no matter the circumstances or consequences of that (one of the consequences being him getting murdered). I love him because he is the one character on the entire show that didn’t give a shit about politics and titles because he could see the bigger picture. I love that despite knowing how impossibly difficult it would be and knowing that people would laugh and disbelieve him, he devoted himself to gaining allies and armies big enough to fight the army of the dead. Jon was always humble and grounded and never swayed by others. He knew his own mind and he knew what was right and he always acted on that. His heart was pure, he was courageous and loyal, and he fought for the honour and safety of others.

Sansa Stark (Game of Thrones)

I love Sansa because she went on an incredible and inspiring journey. She began the series as a naive girl with dreams of living in a castle and marrying a prince and through the sad and traumatic experiences she endured, she developed into a new, stronger person. She was incredibly resillient and became the person she needed to be to survive in a cruel and unfair world. Despite the horrors she endured she never lost hope and she never gave up. She continued to fight and she took back her home by her own sheer will. Instead of submitting to the will of others she shrewdly and cleverly observed her enemies and captors, absorbed knowledge and skills from them and later wielded them for her own benefit. Her intelligence, grace, courage, strength and determintion led her to be crowned Queen of the North and I’ll forever be in awe of all that she achieved and the incredible journey she went on. Sansa Stark is an amazing woman.

Aragorn (Lord of the Rings)

What’s not to love about Aragorn, honestly? He’s a highly skilled soldier and fighter, intelligent, wise, steadfast, loyal and dedicated. He has an ability to lead and inspire whomever he’s with because of the charisma, skill and knowledge he has. He’s respectful, considerate and a true friend. The amount of courage and bravery he has is incredible and there’s no situation that you could put Aragorn in that he wouldn’t tackle head on with his shoulders back and his head held high. When confronted with the Ring he was never seduced or tempted by it because his restraint, inner strength and moral code was so strong. I honestly just love everything about Aragorn, I think he’s amazing.

Angel (Angel the Series)

Angel is my baby. I didn’t fully appreciate or understand him until I watched Angel, but now that I have I’ve fallen in love with him completely. He’s such a complex hero with so many layers to him. His story is one of a kind - a vampire cursed with a soul - and the way in which he selflessly dedicates himself to helping those in need is inspiring. There’s no end to the compassion and empathy Angel has for others or the lengths to which he will go to to help people. Even with those that don’t deserve his kindness, he’s able to show forgiveness and understanding. Yet he’s not perfect; he struggles (a lot) with his own conscience and past, and as a result he’s prone to depressive moods and feelings of hopelessness. But no matter how low he gets or how hopeless things seem he always finds the strength to carry on for the sake of those around him. He’s completely grounded and understands that he can’t change the world, but amazingly that doesn’t stop him from giving his all to helping those few people that he can and making a difference in their lives. And although at first he does it because he’s seeking his own redemption, it’s never really about that. He’s just so connected to humanity (which is ironic since he’s a vampire) that he can’t simply stand by and watch innocent people suffer and do nothing about it. He’s a hero in the truest sense of the word. A well-rounded, multi-faceted character who is flawed but always committed to being the best version of himself he can be and doing everything in his power to improve the lives of others. I also generally love his dorkiness and how funny he is.

Jax Teller (Sons of Anarchy)

I love the complexity of Jax. He’s probably the only character in this list so far that’s categorically a bad person. He’s a criminal, a gangster, a gun-runner, a murder, a brutal and aggressive man who will beat people within an inch of their life. But what I love about him is that despite that cold, ruthless, reckless and awful side to him, he’s also an incredibly sensitive, passionate and loving soul. Jax feels so deeply, more deeply than any other character I know, but the result of that is that he has all of these extreme sides to his personality. He feels something and he reacts. He does stupid, abhorrent, evil and unforgivable things, yet through all of that I see his soul throughout it all. A tormented soul which is all twisted up and shrivelled inside, desperately trying to break free. Jax is one of the most conflicted characters I’ve ever seen. On the one hand being a member of SAMCRO is who he is - it’s literally ingrained in his DNA - and on the other hand, it’s contradictory to the very foundation of who he is as a person. He’s empathetic, he cares about people and he knows right from wrong. At the start of the series he doesn’t kill and when faced with brutality he struggles to mentally and emotionally handle it. It doesn’t sit right with his conscience. And his love for his wife and his sons creates a constant inner-turmoil and war inside him. He feels the responsibility for his club weighing heavily on him, but at the same time knows how detrimental the club is to his family who he loves more than anything and wants to protect. No matter how hard he tries or what he does he knows he can’t strike a balance between the two and he can never find peace within himself. I love the very nature of Jax’s character in this sense, because it’s so damn complex. I also find it facsinating how deeply and dramatically his character changes throughout the seasons. He grows darker and darker until by the end of the series he’s practically a monster. And yet I still can’t help but love him because it doesn’t matter how far he does or how awful the things are that he does, I still see his humanity and see the grief he carries for the things he does. I guess a large part of the reason I love Jax is because he’s so different from me and so different from anyone I’ve ever known and I find that fascinating.

Ben Mitchell (Eastenders)

Of course I had to include Ben on this list, how could I not? Ben is a character that snuck up on me. I’ve watched Eastenders on and off my whole life (it’s ingrained in me as a Brit haha) but I never really attached myself to Ben until Max Bowden took over the role. Max brings something to the character of Ben that enabled me to connect to him immediately. Ben is a tragic character. His back-story is so sad that it’s hard not to feel sympathy for him. His psyche is so twisted up (a lot like Jax) and he has a lot of complex issues that fascinate me. In many ways he’s an awful human being (once again, just like Jax he’s a murderer and a criminal), but he’s also very much human. He loves his father and craves his approval, he dotes on his daughter and longs to give her a better life than he had and be a better father to her than Phil was to him, he’s fiercely loyal to Jay who is his longest and oldest friend. Ben is a very loving and passionate character who feels deeply. In fact, he feels so deeply that he acts out because he doesn’t know how to handle those emotions. And the things he’s had to endure have also instilled him with an anger that he can’t control. He feels that he’s been stepped on his whole life and that he’s endlessly suffered (which let’s face it, he has) and he can’t help but take that out on the rest of the world. I love Ben because of the complexity of his character and because despite everything he’s done I truly believe that he’s a good person. He shows his capability for goodness in the way he is with his loved ones. All I want for him is to wake up and realise that he can’t continue down this path of destruction he’s on. He needs to start healing and move forward and make better decisions for the sake of his future and his daughters.

There’s more characters I could’ve included on this list, but it’s already too long so I’ll leave it there haha.

Thanks for asking! :)

#answered #lucres #personal

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strechanadi · 6 years ago

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Swan Lake - no longer a fairy tale

Right, so... Nobody asked me to, but something so marginal cannot stop me, clearly, so I went and translated the longest, the trickiest, the most profound review I have ever written. (And that includes POB Giselle, Swan Lake and Onegin! OK. Maybe not Onegin. But since I’ve done this one I can almost make myself believe I could give translating Onegin a go as well.) (She said and then promptly kill herself before she could made another clearly, completely and utterly deranged decision.)

Half of the things don’t make sense, I’m sure. And I can only hope they made sense in the original. (Which they probably didn’t, let’s be real, but since when this matters to me anyway?) (God, I literally cannot stop babbling, somebody strangle me or something. Or at least take the keyboard from my grabby and apparently very high fingers, that decided to simply vomit words after words for no real reason and with no brain to mouth/fingers filter whatsoever!)

It’s in times like this I truly wish to be able to write in an actual English language. Or for my mother language to be a world language, not some beautiful, hot mess, but a mess nonetheless, from the middle of nowhere. A mess I despite of everything love dearly and even live in this illusion of me being really pretty good in using (or more like playing with) it.

What is also clear - I, for a reason not known to humans, love to write absurdly, ridiculously long sentences. Be it just up to me, I’d write a whole review in one obscure linguistic construction I call a perfectly normal sentence. I was told however, that English doesn’t really do or like such things, so I tried to shorten them. Or some of them. Was really unbelievably succesfull doing so...

No reason to prolong this now, I guess?

So just, please be patient. Or benevolent. Or try to laugh in private at least! Look, I tried and I know it’s actually rather pathetic to be so spectacularly bad in English grammar, that I supposedly learnt from the age of 5 (but then spent more than 15 years actively hating the whole language, which... doesn’t make sense, I admit, but maybe explain some things), but... I mean, it would be better than google translate, if anything else. It HAS TO be!

As always - I appologize for anything and everything I did to the poor English language. It doesn’t deserve such a poor treatment.

Were there anybody who would feel personally attacked by my sheer ignorance of the basics of language of Shakespeare, Byron or Shelley and would want to make this thing better, let me know! (Even though I am afraid there are so many mistakes, your eyes will be bleeding around the end of 2nd paragraph...)

Last one - I have no idea how in/definite articles work!

(Good thing I don’t write fiction of any sort, ANs would be longer than the actual thing.)

Swan Lake, no longer a fairy tale

Whenever the two words – Swan Lake – were mentioned, everybody had some universally shared idea of the final picture. Nothing has drastically changed with John Neumeier (1976, Illusionen – wie Schwanensee), who mixed the original fairy story with events from prince Ludwig II of Bavaria’s life, nor with Mats Ek (1987), whose prince was torn between imaginary princess Odette and real life Odile, nor with Jean-Christophe Maillot (2011, Le Lac) and new relations between his main characters, not even with Alexander Ekman (2014, A Swan Lake), who came back in time and took a look at the first premiere of said ballet in 1877 and tried to make a rather poetic story about what from certain point was started to be called a fiasco. As if the later Petipa/Ivanov version needs any more boost…

The unshakable certitude was irretrievably broken in 1995 by Matthew Bourne. His Swan Lake was new, daring, bold, with unexpected twists and one could not left theatre feeling indifferent after seeing it. Part of the ballet world turned its back to such profanity of beloved classic. The other part fell for its captivating charm, and since in 2018 Bourne’s Swan Lake came back to his New Adventure’s repertoire for umpteenth time, after hundreds of successful shows, many tours across the globe, adorned with every possible theatre and dance awards, it seems clear who were right then, 24 years ago.

The most common characteristic of Bourne’s Swan Lake is „the male one“. Prince is in the centre of attention, black swan Odile is changed into unknown Stranger, and most obviously – all the swans became purely men’s business. Which opens completely new perspective for male dancers and saying that this ballet has a major influence to whole generations of artists is hardly an overstatement.

Bourne follows the original structure and basic frame of Swan Lake. There are still four acts, act one follows the Prince, his character, the environment he’s living in, relations he has, act two is for the swans, act three still represents the ball, and in act four, where traditionally the Prince is coming back to the lake, here the swans appear in prince’s room. Many times even the formal structure is intact – the prince’s solo at the end of act one, pas de quatre of both little and big swans, or Bourne’s take on character dances in act three. Even the entrée of swans in second act follows the same space structure of the Ivanov’s original /aka swans are coming one after the other and crossing the stage from left to right (dancers‘ perspective)/.

Oedipal Complex, repressed sexuality, low self-esteem

Bourne’s Prince, his personality, is more than ever influenced by his upbringing, by the estrangement of aristocratic background, his world constantly controlled, constricted by rules and rituals, with no spaces for affection, understanding, empathy, every emotion being replaced by duty. Bond between son and mother the Queen (ice cold, distant Katrina Lyndon for whom one cannot feel an ounce of sympathy, or more emotional, but still dismissive Nicole Cabera) is minute, almost non-existent, which has such a strong impact on the introverted, socially inept, insecure Prince, who is on top of all that haunted by strange dreams about swans. The feeling of lacking something gets even worse when he clearly sees his mother is more than capable of showing emotions, particularly towards another young men.

During yet another military parade or boat christening or exhibition opening, the heir to the throne is met with a bit silly, ill-mannered and completely unsuitable girl for his royal life (incomparable Carrie Willis, whose interpretation makes her character pretty sweet with candid, open-hearted warmth), who shortly after became his girlfriend and went with the family to the opera house to watch a ballet performance. Staging theatre scenes within the actual production /we call it theatre on theatre, which probably doesn’t make sense in any other language then ours, sorry/ is always very rewarding. Bourne is on top of that master of choreographic punchline and this scene (to pas de trois from Act I music) combines all clichés from romantic sylphs, awaken Floras, forest beasts to well-built male heroes one could think of and is a joy to watch for its grotesqueness as well as for the subtle details in gestures, ballet quirky manner or choreographic pattern for those, who know where to look for them.

The prince is trying to find his freedom in a night club, but to no avail. He’s met there unexpectedly with his frolicking girlfriend, then he got himself into a fight with one of her suitors (or maybe rather clients) and at the end his soul is beaten for good, when he has to watch the royal secretary paying some money to the one girl, whose affections he believed were genuine. (And it kind of doesn’t matter they most probably truly were.)

The only logical solution for the prince is a suicide. But before he’s able to throw himself into waters of a small park lake, majestic Swan appears and everything is changed at once. Traditional swans‘ corps de ballet danced by women is often associated with delicate elegance, crystalline beauty, dreamy atmosphere and aesthetics of homogeneously moving bodies. Swan is becoming a pure ideal almost as if from ancient Greece. Bourne’s swans are first and foremost animals, he’s not denying their grace, but is showing their slight awkwardness and ridiculousness in some movements at the same time. His swans are wild, independent, fetterless. Looking sinister when lining up to attack the prince, their physical, natural power strengthened by additional slapping arms, stamping feet, hissing and dangerously sharp, audible breathing. The Swan alone is very wary of the prince, uncompromisingly harsh, defensive, with sharp edges of aggressiveness that serves as self-defence of this imposing, powerful creature from anybody who would think of causing any harm. The almost imperceptible gestures calling the prince towards him are even more meaningful then, the moment when he nuzzles prince’s chest indescribably intimate.

Next evening there’s a ball at the palace. And even though it may seem the main reason of it is prince’s engagement thanks to all the ladies present, it’s the queen in her bright crimson dress amongst all black gowns who is in the spotlight. While her son doesn’t even know, what he should be doing with all said ladies. Break from routine comes with mysterious Stranger, whose raw, animalistic charisma draws every female’s attention to him, which he welcomes with great satisfaction. At the same time it also affects, quite unintentionally, the utterly unprepared prince, because Stranger’s arrogant dominance has something from Swan’s animalistic fierce. /Dear English language, you have many words. More than my mother language. But you have exactly nothing that would or could match prchlivost. Or at least I am unable to find it./ As Odile in original libretto, the Stranger dances his way through character dances (the Neapolitan one stands out with its light-hearted fun it makes of cliché Italian relationships) and finds his dancing peak in duet with the queen (music of so called Black Swan Pas de Deux). It is when prince’s psyche breaks and he, in his imagination, is thrown in arms of unknown to be faced with intimacy, sensuality, sexual tension and even the most basic physical contact, everything so strong even person of sound mind would probably find it difficult to cope. Therefore, when the Stranger kisses the queen, prince is there with gun in his hands and complete madness in his eyes. In chaotic situation gunshot is heard (although not by prince’s pistol), prince’s girlfriend falls dead and terrified young man is drawn away.

The tragedy is inevitable. To padded cell, where the prince is held, come doctor with the queen followed by group of nurses with queen’s face, whose hairstyle and white uniform may resemble the demonic nurse Ratched from the Miloš Forman’s film Flew over the cuckoo’s nest. After certain medical procedure (just shy from lobotomy) the prince is taken to his room, where the miserable, wounded Swan emerges from his bed. Shortly after he is followed by irritated flock of other swans, that throw themselves unbridled on the young man and then even on their supposed leader, doing so with brutality growing with every Swan’s desperate attempt to save his prince. The Swan dies at the end after their fatal, almost fanatical attack. And with him die prince’s illusions, dreams, hopes and then he himself. So when the Queen comes in the morning, all she finds is her son’s dead body, the sight of the Swan embracing his prince behind the bed the only, yet bittersweet comfort for the audience.

As many other versions of this famous ballet, this too strengthens psychological aspect of the story and deepens characters‘ personalities. Here, more than ever, the contours of main characters are pretty blurry. The prince and the Swan are blending into one, they are reflected in the other, full of opposites they are complementing each other, one would say they are like two sides of the same coin. /Ha!/ Bourne on top of that let his characters to blend with different original ones. Where in traditional Swan Lakes it’s Odette weeping at the beginning of the last scene, here it’s the Prince, who is going through mental breakdown in striking resemblance to Giselle’s mad scene. The role of Rothbart, the sorcerer, is played by the royal secretary as well as prince’s own mother, who at the same time plays a part of original Siegfried during the act 3 ball, when being seduced by Stranger, who is Odile. What may seem as confusing chaos at first sight, makes perfect sense in the end and strengthens the unquestionably dark tones of Bourne’s choreographic vision.

Artistic approaches or One man’s meat is another man’s poison…

As it always is with story ballets, individual artistic interpretation is something that has the power to change the final image of said piece. In case of Bourne’s Swan Lake and its current stars, the outcome may be completely different with each cast.

Where Liam Mower was bored, annoyed, slightly defiant teenage Prince, Dominic North’s hero was more tired, depressed young man with no illusions, very well aware of all his flaws and inability to fulfil all expectations of his social role, while James Lovell, who seemed most out of touch with reality, emphasized prince’s childishly pure, honest naivety. If the suicide attempt of Mower’s prince was more than anything a dramatic gesture, North was simply resigned to its inevitability, and Lovell threw himself into the waters with absolute, desperate abandon, his mind not able to see any other solution. Each and every prince is then influenced by his Swan and Stranger (and every Swan and Stranger by his prince).

Matthew Ball, the newest principal of the Royal Ballet, can rely on his first-class technique as well as on his unquestionable elegant stage presence. His pliable body felt the music to its very last molecule, every movement full of regal charm and classical beauty, which in a way brought Ball closer to traditional, delicately soft, feminine portrayal of Odette. His Swan was untouchable in his impeccable perfection, icily confident, aware of every gesture he made, of every prince’s fascinated glance. Max Westwell, former soloist of English National Ballet, concentrated more on the raw temperament, natural animal distrust, physical power and ferocity combined with enigmatic magnificence. Dynamics of his movements escalated at all times, was full of unexpected turns and transitions from strong, energetic endings, to exhalation captured in casual, seemingly ordinary movement of hanging wrist.

As the Stranger Ball looked like smug dandy enjoying himself and all the attention, all too well aware of his own youth and beauty, that make everybody fall for him. Personally though I couldn’t help thinking he wasn’t as in charge as it might look at the first sight. He was mocking his prince, showing off ostentatiously. Weswell on the other hand was the embodiment of pure, uncompromising charisma. Interactions between him and Mower’s prince, who was impressed by Stranger’s unconventional, rough manners at first, was quickly becoming a tense fight for power, the prince trying to prove himself worthy of Stranger’s attention, to prove he’s his equal. With Lovell’s prince the seducing, open flirting, blatant sexuality was much more evident, which combined with this prince’s ingenuous innocence made the final picture unpleasantly sinister.

Regardless of different casts, ending of the ballet became a real emotional roller-coaster. With Matthew Ball and Dominic North equal in their complete despair when being sure of the inevitable death of their partner. Ball’s total resignation the more palpable, the more he was stubbornly, despite his injuries trying to stay or at least look unaffected on the outside. Change of Westwell’s Swan, in act 2 so independent and powerful, was shocking. Now he was utterly, hopelessly, painfully broken. He was defending both his princes against furious swans with rabid determination, with no self-preservation whatsoever, with perfect, devoted abandon. Bond between him and James Lovell’s prince was then strengthened by certain feel of responsibility, by tenderness that felt almost motherly. He was not only trying to protect, but to sooth, to give some comfort to his prince as well with physical contact, with touches stronger, more frequent, more expressive, more meaningful. That was why prince’s positively hysterical, agonizing grief hurt almost physically then.

Bourne managed something extraordinary. His Swan Lake with costumes by Lez Brotherson is as iconic, as legendary as the original ballet. His vision as strong as let’s say Ek’s Giselle. What’s more, Bourne’s ballet doesn’t age, it hasn’t lost any of its impact – thanks to slight costume, dramaturgic and choreographic changes, that only strengthen its drive. Prince’s hinted homosexuality won‘t shock anyone anymore as well as men swans won’t provoke such controversy, true. But thanks to these examples it is evident, that Bourne’s ballet is so much more than just a gay version of one famous story…

For everybody who actually reach the end of this madness - congratulations. And I am sorry.

#ballet #review #swan lake #matthew bourne's swan lake #selfpromo

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actuallyschizoid · 8 years ago

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Hello-- My best friend is schizo. I myself am very overly empathetic, to the point where I get overwhelmed. Anyway, I don't want to bring it up to him in case it's not something he wants to share/it'd be too intrusive, but the question keeps bugging me- what is it like to have friends as a schizo? I'm terribly sorry if I come off rude, but is it possible for them to care bout/have friends? I want to understand better, as I have high empathy and don't get what it's like. Thank you for any insight

Well, first of all, if by “schizo” you mean schizoid, as an empathetic person you might not want to call your best friend that. ^^’ Of course, unless he identifies as such himself.

Thing is, “schizo” could refer to a few conditions (schizoid, schizotypal, schizoaffective, schizophrenic, to name first that come to mind), and different kinds of people from this spectrum aren’t always willing to identify with an umbrella term because of how different those are. Also this term is occasionally used in offensive way, and some may find it rather hurtful. Even though others have tried to recover it back into viable umbrella term, it’s still in a gray area, as it seems.

Now, I have just the post you’re looking for somewhere. Thanks to my new blog excel thingy, I even have a chance to find it, one moment... Eh, I should tag things better... >.> I think this is the one I’m looking for, though maybe I missed another big one on similar subject. Anyway, that post pretty much sums it all about friends and schizoids. But I’ll try to elaborate a bit (hopefully it won’t result in even bigger wall of text).

What it’s like to have friends when you are a schizoid? Well, I don’t really think it’s all that different then it is for other people. I mean, it’s based on all the same psychological mechanics. The only difference is schizoids tend to have low motivation towards having friends and high cost to sustain it.

I.e. friendship is by definition a mutually beneficial relationship. Unlike all those romantic options, here can’t be one-sided friendship. If just one out of two finds it to be worth to be friends, that just doesn’t cut it — the one without enough reason to sustain it will just withdraw and find something better to do.

So for schizoid having a friend can easily become a burden. It’s draining energy (which is already low), forcing into regular contacts (which is hard and far from always is welcomed), etc. And for it to be still worth it — well, there must be something in it, right? Some profit — and I don’t mean, like, financial gain. Any gain, even psychological — feeling better and all that.

Problem is, emotional closeness is rarely viewed by schizoids as profit — way more commonly it is, in fact, a loss. Allowing someone to be close to you emotionally from schizoid PoV is the cost they must pay to have some friends. Depending on specific schizoid, it may or may not be worth it to begin with.

Like, I personally won’t have close friends ever because the whole world doesn’t have enough valuable for it to justify sharing my emotions with anyone but myself. Not-too-close friends are fine, that’s not a big deal. But there’s just no way I anyone would ever be able to get to the “best friend” level of closeness, like talking about feels, being sincere with each other, not having secrets or whatever else.

I mean, really, people? Really?.. >.> How is it even possible y’all agree on such horrid thing and find it even pleasing? But then again, it could be just be. If you are already best friend with that schizoid of yours, perhaps he’s not that far gone yet, and for him being emotionally close is still an option that isn’t impossibly expensive.

Still, probably worth to keep in mind that you’re likely taking at least twice as much as you think you do in this friendship. And things that you thing you’re giving are, in fact, just more expenses in his mind. It could be already quite disbalanced.

And I’m guessing there might be a good reason why you find yourself bugged by those questions. Like, perhaps you feel like he is (was, or slowly getting) more withdrawn, doesn’t seem interested much in spending time together, as if he doesn’t care much? Maybe passively agreeing to all things you suggest, but never suggesting anything on his behalf. Probably not even calling/messaging for weeks or months unless you contact him first.

Of course it’s just a guess, I could be wrong. But honestly that wouldn’t surprise me. Because friendship with schizoids is always like that. Why is it like that? Because, just like I said before, it’s so easy for things to get just not worth its cost. It doesn’t mean he no longer likes you or anything, if that’s the case. It just means he’s tired and unmotivated and it’s harder and harder to stop himself from finding excuses to not go somewhere/do something/whatever.

So, is it even possible for schizoid to care about friends? I’d say, yes. For some schizoids it’s pretty easy, in fact. All it takes is a good enough reason to care. :) I.e. that friendship must provide something truly valuable for this specific schizoid to trigger this “care” thingy.

No, emotional warmness, sympathy, talking feels — that’s not it. It must be something the schizoid can’t provide themselves with by other means. Like, external motivation, for example. If you can supplement the natural inability of your schizoid friend to stay motivated, that might help.

At least for me that always worked better to have other people doing the “get, the fuck out of bed and do something, ffs you can’t just stay here for weeks it’s just unhealthy, there’s this long list of stuff you had to finish by last year and it’s still not done” thing instead of myself. Especially if it’s not just words, but that someone would actually keep being involved with the stuff I must do, being motivated for the task to be completed waaaay more than I could ever dream to be. Just knowing that someone cares about things I don’t care enough about could make a difference between the thing in question being done within 10 minutes or 10 years. Literally.

Or, if he’s a different kind of schizoid whose most prominent problem is, for example, dealing with other people — well, how about helping with that? Maybe taking care of some mundane thing that you find simple or even fun, but he finds it a personal hell. Like going to a shop, talking to strangers, whatever.

Then, eventually it might actually click. And all those things that were a burden with nothing in return would become the one and only relationship in their life that actually matters.

Occasionally, when that happens, some schizoids are capable to develop the level of attachment you wouldn’t expect of them, as far as I know. Sure, it might still be rather withdrawn on the emotional end (or maybe not — again, it’s individual). But there’s surely a possibility that it would matter a lot.

And of course I ended up with another wall of text, but let’s be honest, none of you doubted this post will be long the moment I said “hopefully it won’t”... including myself. >.>

#actuallyschizoid #szpd #schizoid #friendship #attachments #care #Anonymous

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teachanarchy · 8 years ago

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While I live a pretty normal life I have a lot of issues with sensory sensitivity. Like loud noises, bright lights, certain food tastes, smells and standing in crowds of people. These things make me feel a bit stressed out resulting in various issues like headaches and digestive problems.

While we're on the subject. Certain non-autistic people have the misconception that those of us on the spectrum would "lack empathy." That is simply not true. We often have a hard time to "read" people, but we certainly do not lack human empathy. That needed to be said.

I am lonely. I want to be around people so much. I love talking, they taught me to talk and forgot to give me others to talk to. I want to work, but I need supervision.

I hit my head on things when I am upset. I hate that. My arms flap when I am excited and people stare. People stare for other reasons too...

And I love children and children love me, they love to talk to me and ask questions, or talk to me about cartoons. I would never harm anyone, but their parents act like their child is in danger it makes me feel like I am a terrible person.

Luckily now I am friends with an eight-year-old and she is awesome, loves LEGO, and we have a lot of talks about who is the best Disney princess, explorers (I told her about an explorer in LEGO, Johnny Thunder who explored tombs and she has suddenly decided to love the idea), and also about Doctor Who and time travel (the back seat of her car is a time machine when we go anywhere!)

So I guess, in short, autism is lonely, it can cause a lot of pain, it's like being trapped in a body that is only half loaded. Just cause people are aware of autism or accept autism, doesn't mean they will make time for those with autism.

Friends make it easier.

I am an autistic person with hyperempathy, and my husband (also in the spectrum) has very low levels of empathy. He certainly still cares a great deal about others, but he finds it difficult-bordering-on-impossible to understand people's feelings or connect with them. He still has plenty of sympathy, though.

I, on the other hand, am kind of like an emotional chameleon. I can't help mirroring the emotions of those around me, and it's very tough. I want to be helpful and supportive when I see someone having a hard time, but when I start to adopt their negative feelings, it becomes very difficult to help because now I've got all this stress of my own to deal with.

I have huge trouble telling someone they've made a mistake. I've let people go calling me by the wrong name, or I change the subject in conversation because the idea of making someone feel bad for making an error is intolerable. That one's a bugger to get around. It was worse as a teenager, I was once frozen to the spot for 3 minutes outside a teacher's door because knocking would interrupt them. Never mind that I had to see them and that they were expecting it, it might slightly inconvenience them and it would be my fault. I'm glad that stage is mostly over with.

Emotions can be more extreme, especially the negative ones, unfortunately. There is a sudden trigger and a switch just flips. I usually take a step back and take a breather to get myself to baseline then.

This also ties in with control for me. I have a hard time with unfamiliar situations/places or if I have no way out. What's normal there, how should I behave, what if I do something wrong? What if I need a moment to myself where do I go? I would love to travel but everything about it can get me into a panic. But once I'm there and have assigned a spot as my place to collect myself I'm fine. Getting there is the hard part.

I also want to be really, really sure someone likes a present. I am horrible at giving a gift without them knowing what it is. I only not check if they would like it if there is no doubt in my mind that they would love it.

My go-to analogy is to imagine being in a country where nobody speaks English and you don't speak their language. You don't have a phrasebook but you do have a translation dictionary. So you are speaking the words but the syntax is way off, not to mention accent and pronunciation. You might think you're making sense and communicating well but really people will be confused by you.

For me, it's being different enough to be noticed and alienated from other people, but being similar enough to know it and hate yourself for it. I'm high functioning, but I was always a little bit less developed than others my age and was always ostracized for it. Got bullied out of high school by former friends when I finally told them I was high functioning and haven't ever finished.

Now after isolating myself for seven years, I have no idea how to make friends because social interaction is something that does not come naturally or easily to many of us. You can try and try to make friends but there is always the little voice reminding you that you are different and you are always paranoid that others notice. So you begin to hate yourself for it which then is noticed by others who then don't want to be around you, further convincing you of your differentness. It is the most lonely feeling in the world to know how you are supposed to act and not be able to do so, as hard as you try. I would not wish it on anyone.

I have thoughts that no one else has, and when I articulate those thoughts, be it a joke, reference, even just a sentence, I will more often than not get a vacant stare in response. It's actually getting a little irritating if I'm honest, having to try and explain in terms they'll understand before dismissing the conversation entirely because I'm fighting an uphill battle.

Imagine you just started a new job, but you didn't get any on-the-job training, the company has a very different work ethic to what you're used to, the environment is different, the people are unapproachable, everyone seems to know what they're doing but you, nobody seems to accept that you don't know what you're doing, they just get irritated with you, and it's assumed that you can just ask people for help if you're struggling... but everyone is scary to approach and makes you feel inadequate. That's what it's like for me anyway

An extension to this metaphor, also imagine that everyone else loves their job but you're only doing it because there are no other jobs going and you need the money. Ideally, you'd be doing something else but it's not an option, this is the job you have, like it or not

10.

I've grown to fear and hate contact with people because of the stares/bullying. But I'm not afraid of children or small animals. My dog is my only friend.

11.

I'm in high school and it seems that most people are on one page and I'm in a different book.

12.

I have a good friend who is autistic. He rocks his body and bounces a little and can't help it, he can't filter his words very well. He wishes he could be the guy who lives with the flow but pretty much needs structured plans and has a hard time if anything changes. He describes it as lonely too, but also frustrating. He says social situations are just too alien to him. He can't understand others well. He says he knows what he wants his mind and body to do, but they just don't.

I had this piece of garbage car once, like it was REALLY bad, and sometimes it would die, and the radio buttons didn't always work, and it had steering and breaking problems, and the clutch had problems too. Before I got rid of it, I'd always get [mad] driving it because I knew what it should be capable of doing and I knew what I was capable of doing in a normal working car, but I just couldn't get it right in that car. My friend told me the way I acted driving that car is how he was in his head. He knew what his body and mind should be able to do, and he knew what he should be able to do with a working mind. But he couldn't. He was trapped in his body and mind like I was in that crappy car. Really broke my heart... I don't know how he does it, I certainly couldn't.

13.

I was diagnosed with Aspergers at the age of 11.

I feel like I'm part of a play where everyone has the script except me.

14.

"So if I'm speaking to someone with autism, what can I do to make you feel more comfortable while taking to you?"

For me, I just want to be treated with dignity, patience, and respect. Be aware that I'm probably agonizing over your social cues that I may or may not be interpreting correctly or even noticing.

15.

I think I'm reasonably socially competent but it just takes so much effort. I have to think through every social move and feel overwhelmed after. I have to prepare for interactions. I hate small talk. I feel incredibly uncomfortable if people touch me, or stand too close to me or behind me. I have a mole on my cheek that has changed recently so I went to get it checked out, the doctor I'd never met before touching my face and peering intently at me and the bright lights in the office pretty much wrote my morning off by killing my threshold for anything else. I'm terrified of people's reactions to me and actively dislike meeting new people because I can't predict them/haven't worked out the formula for what they like to talk about/their humor, etc.

True relaxation for me is sitting in my room, by myself indulging in whatever I've become obsessed with. It's currently hockey, and I just love getting immersed in it, reading statistics, team histories and player profiles etc.

16.

It's really, really lonely. To be desperate to go out and be with people but at the same time have no idea how to interact with them. Left out of every conversation. Completely ignored.

The benefits are basically being able to concentrate on anything and really excel at it. Also not falling apart in an emergency, because the emotions of the situation don't really come into play.

17.

Social interactions that come to others naturally require a lot of thought and planning in my situation. For lack of a better analogy, I have mental checklists for every social event under the sun.

Obsessions are amped up from non-autistic people, as are following rituals - every night when I get home, I have dinner and watch The Simpsons, no ifs, ands, or buts.

I work as a chef, and my supervisor and I have a certain codeword (traffic) that if I mention it out of the blue, it means "I need to cool off for a few, I'm getting overloaded here."

18.

The therapist who diagnosed me once told me this story about how one of her patients basically thought "Why is everyone so [...] weird?" for about 17 years before he got diagnosed because he genuinely didn't realize that he might be the odd one. That's me, as well.

19.

I'm coming up on 40 years old in a few months. I feel like I have learned enough of those things, that I can now pass for completely normal. I've got a wife, I got a place, I keep my bills paid, I haven't had to move in over 4 years which is a new record for me. At worst, people think of me as an under achiever. Nobody has any ideas. It can be done, but it does take time. A lot of time.

20.

Socially I've managed to cope with my autism, I was quiet in middle school and a little bit of high school. I figured out I'm best at making myself look ridiculous in front of people. I now just laugh at myself and I seem to fit in, however, most of the time I don't really catch on to my friend's jokes or opinions.

21.

I love people, but people have to make exceptions. Being my friend means having to look after me. Being my friend means understanding I can't meet you at the mall, you have to come to my house and take me. Being my friend means accepting I won't know when I have caused emotional harm through being too blunt or saying something honest when you wanted a lie.

22.

Oh man, change could be so hard. When I was younger I hated it when my parents would redecorate the living room. Took me weeks to get used to and accept it as the new normal.

23.

Filtering useless info is exhausting, and I feel lucky I can even do that even though it costs me extra energy. A club is a nightmare, way too loud and too many people and lights. On the flip side when it's super quiet my mind focuses on the background hum, equally distracting.

24.

I never experienced an invitation to anything till I was older. Even if I don't want to go the feeling of being included is the best feeling ever. Like my friend, she had a party just for me. She invited 3 people to play board games and they chose board games that I was able to understand. It was the first party I had ever been to. I was 25.

My friend invited me to the board game night with an actual invitation it said "Time: Place: What to bring:" It made it structured and it was the best adventure I ever had because it was my first real social adventure.

25.

For me, its loud noises, especially bangs, screeches, high pitch noises from electronics no one else seems to hear. Constant repetitive sounds like beeping, there are other sounds too! I don't like a lot of music because of it. Sometimes, it's sounds others cannot really hear, or that their brains have tuned out. It can be strange explaining to someone you do not like their favorite song because there is a scratching noise from a guitar pick on a guitar that they have tuned out or is so minor they don't notice.

26.

I have high functioning autism as well as anxiety so some of this may be the anxiety but I find it really hard maintaining friendships at all. For example, I left 1.5 years ago and haven't spoken to one of them in over a year because I quite honestly didn't know how.

I also find communicating really hard. It takes a lot of effort and I would find meeting someone new really hard with me having no Idea where to go past hello and me getting a stutter is also quite likely.

I don't cope well with changes from a routine. For example, I will eat the same meals each day.

27.

It's hard, not only socially but also in school. I can't understand what the questions are asking me because I always interpret it in another way. Especially the questions like "Why did the author write this, how does the author feel?.. etc." I would always question if I was reading this answer correctly, and my teachers would get frustrated with me due to the excessive amount of questions I asked.

28.

If I said to you, I am done talking for now and wanted to stop talking, it doesn't mean I did not like you and it does not mean I did not enjoy the talking. Just sometimes it's a bit overwhelming and I need to stop for a while before going back to it. Some people take it as that I did not like them, or that I am rude. Then I get sad cause I can't go back to talking.

29.

My current girlfriend didn't realise that I have high functioning autism - partly because it's not severe, but also because basically all of the interactions with her have been ones that I've been through many, many times and I roughly know how I'm meant to react, even if sometimes I don't know why I need to react that way. it's a huge help but also a hindrance because some people just refuse to believe me until they spend more than a few minutes at a time with me

30.

The Internet has been one of the best things ever for autistic people. It is so much easier to communicate through text devoid of all the body language and vocal tones...

Remember to SHARE this with your family and friends.

#autism #nuerodiversity #ability

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