#your best friend brings you what he recently described as a suicidal pill

[addhellandcurse]

look at his face

[caffeinatedseri]

Dead Apple Light Novel

Recently, I decided to buy LN 5, Dead Apple, purely because I’m a sucker for all of BSD’s light novels, so this post will revolve around what I took away from this novel. 

Dead Apple is Canon

Since the story jumps around in the timeline a lot, I had originally thought that Dead Apple took place outside of canon (especially with Atsushi’s flashback). 

However, a particular part of Asagiri’s afterword stuck out to me:

Now, allow me a moment to discuss some of the particulars of Dead Apple. Chronologically, the story takes place after the second season of the anime — in other words, after the war with the Guild, which puts Dead Apple somewhere between the ninth and tenth volumes of the manga. 

The novel also ended up affecting the main story in numerous ways, and I’m sure this new experience will continue to influence my future work as well.

It’s not unusual for a light novel to insert itself into the main timeline (see 55 Minutes which takes place in the 10th volume), but it’s nice to have confirmation that the same applies to Dead Apple. 

Of course, just because a work isn’t canon compliant (see BEAST), doesn’t mean that it has no potential for further analysis or it doesn’t bring any added complexity to the main plot. Regardless, this post serves as somewhat of a precursor to my other posts concerning Dead Apple since I have a tendency to talk about it a lot, and I’d like to establish a basis for a lot of my posts. 

Differences between the Movie and Light Novel

In the afterword of the light novel, Hiro Iwahata (the author of this LN) said:

“Furthermore, I worked on this book under Asagiri’s supervision, meaning there are several lines in certain scenes that differ from the movie. It might even be fun comparing the two!  Nothing would make me happier than the fans enjoying this novel alongside the movie.”

As per Iwahata’s request, I went into the light novel, looking for differences between it and the movie. However, the novel is surprisingly, almost identical to the movie (maybe not surprising considering it is a “movie novelization”).

Because the differences are so miniscule, I believe they hold an even greater significance, since Asagiri must have wanted to change these specific details for a certain reason. 

Some of the differences I talk about might be unimportant, but I did my best to catch everything that was changed from the movie.

1. The movie doesn’t mention SKK as a part of the Dragon’s Head Conflict, but the novel says, “Some fought under the alias Twin Dark.” 

This probably means that SKK became a pair either before the Dragon’s Head Conflict or during (although I’m pretty sure that the “organization” they destroyed over night was Shibusawa’s organization).

2. When Dazai says that he would’ve continued killing people in the mafia if it weren’t for Oda, Atsushi has little to no reaction in the movie; I would describe it as maybe a hesitant or concerned feeling.

In the novel, Atsushi has a more outward reaction.

““Huh...?!” Atsushi was baffled. He had no idea whether that was true. What did Dazai mean by that? (...) The melancholy Atsushi felt from Dazai had disappeared, and Dazai continued to speak in his usual lighthearted manner.”

Not only does he react verbally, but the novel also adds an inner monologue (mainly for Atsushi) that can’t be portrayed as well in movie format. 

To me, this change highlights how Atsushi sees Dazai purely as a good person; he reacts in such a startled manner because he believes that Dazai is too good of a person to be in the mafia killing people (which we know Atsushi hates). This trend reoccurs throughout the story, of Atsushi turning a blind eye to Dazai’s “bad side.”

3. This one isn’t at all the movie’s fault, but the novel gives a lot more clues as to what the “dead apple” and the dagger in the apple motif represents.

The first time it appears is when Kunikida and Tanizaki meet the Special Division’s agent, but they find out that he’s already dead.

“It [the apple] was, without a doubt, a simple fruit... save for the fact that there was a knife sticking out of it as if to condemn the taste of sin. A blade had been driven into the symbol of original sin. A dreary, ominous aura, oozed from the ripe fruit like venom. 

Throughout the novel, it seems to associate the “dead apple” motif with Fyodor pretty strongly, especially since this paragraph ties in Fyodor’s ideals nicely with the symbolism of the apple and dagger.

The apple represents sin, the very first sin — which you could interpret as sin at its purest — while the dagger represents the condemning of such sin. However, the apple can also potentially symbolize life, while the dagger stabbing into life can mean death. 

Fyodor’s ideals revolve around “removing the sin” of ability users (represented by an apple in this case) but he does so through manipulation. The dagger is associated with stealth and deception, which is fitting with what Fyodor does to “remove the sin” of ability users.

However, he’s also taking the lives of ability users in this process, hence stabbing the apple, coincidentally committing another sin in his attempt to relinquish all sin.

4. In the “Snow White” Oda and Dazai flashback, everything is identical to the movie (word for word), but there is some additional narration.

“It was an alarming sight — Dazai sounded like he was in a trance. It was as if he was ignoring all this world had to offer while in pursuit of something else.”

I’ve talked about this particular scene before here, but the gist is that Dazai was discreetly talking about himself while referring to Snow White. 

Dazai joined the mafia because he believed that the violence (or true human nature) would give him a reason to live, but we already know that this kind of thinking was flawed.  Thus, this line most likely means that Dazai was ignoring all of the “good” qualities of the world while pursuing a reason to live, which inevitably wouldn’t work. 

5. Right after the flashback, when Dazai takes the pill, the novel really sells the act of “Dazai walking towards his death and going to the evil side.” 

Personally, this scene in the movie felt more open to interpretation after you’ve seen the ending. You could say that Dazai took the antidote and said “Being on the side that saves people is more beautiful,” because his plan is to continue living to save more people. 

However, the novel throws away any possible double meaning with this paragraph:

“Dazai then reached for the pill with his bandaged hand, neatly picked it up, and slowly brought it to his lips — just like Snow White and the sweet, poisoned apple. The venomous red-and-pure-white-pill disappeared inside his mouth.”

After Dazai’s tangent on how Snow White could’ve committed suicide out of despair, the narration compares him directly to Snow White. With the added venomous pill stated outright, it only further cements the idea that Dazai’s actually committing suicide here.

I don’t particularly like this change, because it feels like this moment was set up entirely just to divert the audience’s expectations, rather than it be a standalone scene that makes sense when considering the rest of the story. (It might not necessarily be a change, possibly just a rough translation from movie to novel). 

6. When Atsushi wakes up from his nightmare, there’s some additional inner monologue:

Everything’s okay. I’m not the same person I was when I lived at the orphanage. I have friends. I have a place where I belong — the Armed Detective Agency. Things are different now.

The anime (and in turn the movie) tends to downplay the effects of Atsushi’s trauma — probably due to the limitations of anime — but regardless the novel portrays it much better with how Atsushi’s trauma affects practically every aspect of his life. 

7. I thought Fukuzawa’s ability only gave his subordinates control over their abilities, but the novel says:

“Yukichi Fukuzawa and his skill, All Men are Equal, a peculiar ability that allowed him to suppress and control his subordinates’ skills.”

Does this mean that Fukuzawa could control and suppress all of the agency’s abilities? It could be a weird translation, but it seems oddly specific.

8. This detail isn’t actually a novel exclusive, but it is an extremely small detail that I missed while watching the movie, so I figured I would add it here too.

“the phantom’s notebook had the word Compromise written on the cover. A copy of himself that didn’t follow ideals but made compromises was an abomination to Kunikida.”

Considering how abilities act as the shadow to every character in this story, this is a nice detail that shows how Kunikida’s inner desire is to compromise, because carrying such heavy ideals is undoubtedly a burden. However, because he holds onto his ideals so strongly, it becomes his biggest weakness AND his biggest strength.

9. There’s a super small detail added to this scene with Dazai, Fyodor, and Shibusawa. When Dazai suggests that Shibusawa could be saved by an angel or a demon, the following exchange occurs:

“Hmm... Maybe an angel?” Dazai picked up the skull on the table. “Or maybe a demon?” “It’s obvious what both of your true intentions are, if you ask me.” The third man mirthfully cackled and took the skull from Dazai’s hand.

In the movie, Dazai doesn’t pick up anything, so as a result Fyodor doesn’t take anything from Dazai either. 

Because Fyodor walked into the scene after Dazai suggested that an angel or demon would save Shibusawa, I strongly suspect that this was foreshadowing future events in which Fyodor does “save” Shibusawa by giving him his memories back.

The novel adds more to this foreshadowing by having Dazai pick up the skull before it’s taken by Fyodor — essentially having Fyodor take the cards out of Dazai’s hands and put them in his favor. 

It’s also worth pointing out that the skull is also the object that Fyodor uses to revive Shibusawa into a supernatural ghost of some sorts at the end of the story.

10. This may be just a difference in translations but in the movie, Shibusawa refers to Fyodor as “Demon Fyodor-kun”, whereas in the novel Fyodor is called “Fyodor the Conjurer.” (Ango uses the Conjurer title as well).

In western esotericism, a conjurer is a person who summons supernatural beings, like spirits, demons, or God.

This slightly changes the connotation of Fyodor’s title from a inhuman being of pure malicious intent to just a human who summons these otherworldly beings. This idea also aligns with Shibusawa’s revival, since he’s some sort of supernatural ghost that was “summoned” by Fyodor. 

11. Skipping past the parts where Kyouka and Akutagawa regain their abilities, and Chuuya talks to Ango in the government facility, (since they have little to no changes between the movie and the novel) there is a somewhat significant detail changed in Draconia once again with Dazai and Fyodor.

In the novel, this glowing ball of energy from the movie is actually described as an apple: 

The two lights melted into one and spun until they formed a juicy sphere. They had produced a single apple — a juicy, poisoned apple red as blood.

It birthed a skill — and an extremely powerful one at that — the ability to absorb. Every last crystal adorning Draconia’s walls was sucked into the apple with intense force. Ten — a hundred — a thousand — two thousand — every last one was greedily devoured by the apple...

The apple swelled as it absorbed the numerous crystals until the red light became hotter than the surface of hell.

Since the “dead apple” motif aligns with Fyodor’s character, we can assume that the apple is representative of sin, and sin is associated with abilities, as Fyodor believes.

This strange poisoned apple is made of abilities and has an ability (the ability to absorb), and it commits a sin (greed) in its devouring of other abilities; it’s also hotter than “hell”, which is a very specific connection that leads me to this idea:

My theory is that a normal apple represents life, while a poisoned apple (or dead apple), indicative of a stained, impure life, represents sin. Fyodor believes abilities are akin to sin (what a clever rhyme), therefore all of their lives are sinful.

12. This is arguably the most insignificant change of this entire post, but I feel obligated to put it here regardless since it was different from the movie. When the Special Division detects the singularity of Shibusawa’s dragon form in the novel, it says:

“Abnormal values for singularity are increasing! They’re twice — no, 2.5 times higher than they were six years ago.”

In the movie, the number is five times higher instead.

Why did this number change? Is it significant? I honestly have no idea (I’m surprised I even caught this), but it’s there and I had to document it anyways. 

13. The novel adds this narration for Shibusawa when he gets his memories back and he’s in the orphanage’s room with Atsushi:

“Shibusawa clearly recalled the events from six years ago. Fyodor had enticed him to go to the orphanage where he tortured a young Atsushi... until Atsushi fought back and killed him.”

There’s two things to take away from this: Fyodor had known Shibusawa for at least six years, and Fyodor had been planning the events of Dead Apple since at least six years ago. 

I find it hard to believe that Fyodor’s plan was thwarted by Dazai, because of how Fyodor demonstrated his ability to plan ahead in the main series, but I’m not sure what the long term effects of this plan could be. If Shibusawa succeeded, then it could’ve aligned with the DOA’s goals, but once again I don’t think Fyodor’s plan was actually foiled.

14. Super minor once again, but right after Shibusawa gets revived, the last sentence of chapter 5 is,

“Nobody would ever see the smile on Fyodor’s face.” 

Honestly, I think this was just added to create an ominous tone, but it’s a nice detail regardless.

15. As the red fog spreads across Yokohama, there’s a good part of exposition that connects the “dead apple” motif to Fyodor once again:

“After the red fog devoured the earth, the planet would undoubtedly look like a floating red apple from space. There would be no humans left on its surface, nor any signs they ever existed. It would be a true paradise, and with that, the Dead Apple would finally be complete. A dead planet covered in red fog — that was what Fyodor had planned and sought out.

Nothing other than death could wash away the original sin of man, so it was only fitting for the sin, which started with a fruit, to end with one as well. 

It’s pretty long, but I like the way this passage is written, more specifically the last part since it fits well with the sinful poisoned apple idea.

It also aligns with Fyodor’s ideals of creating a true paradise, free of ability users. However, if Fyodor had planned to have the Earth covered in fog, that could mean that his plan was actually stopped by Dazai and Atsushi in the end.

16. Shibusawa has a few additional lines of dialogue when he talks to Atsushi in their final fight.

“The dragon and tiger... I see now why they are called rivals.”

The dragon and tiger have their roots in Chinese Buddhism, but to go further into that topic would make this already lengthy post even longer.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though. I’m not blaming you for what happened.”

This line is a brief moment of weakness for Shibusawa, which is interesting in contrast to his strong will to kill Atsushi. Just as Atsushi learned to accept the past and the tiger’s ferocity, Shibusawa shares the same attitude by separating the blame from himself to just simply accepting the past for what happened.

17. In the aftermath of the last fight against Shibusawa, Atsushi and Kyouka meet up with Dazai.

Kyouka asks, “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” which prompts two different responses in the movie and novel respectively.

In the movie, Atsushi says, “Just as Shibusawa was able to forget that he’d been killed before, I think Dazai can put his past behind him again. But this is fine.”

In the novel, Atsushi says:

“... I could probably seal away this memory just like how I’d forgotten I’d killed him before. But... I’m okay with this.”

I interpreted Kyouka’s question in the movie to be questioning Dazai’s loyalties, as he did betray everyone, and Atsushi responded in Dazai’s defense because he trusts him.

However, the novel does change Atsushi’s response to focus on himself rather than Dazai, which in turn changes the implications of Kyouka’s question. 

Kyouka seems to be asking Atsushi whether he was okay with killing Shibusawa, and Atsushi responds by acknowledging that he did kill Shibusawa, and that’s okay. (a very clear development from the beginning of the story when he believed it was unnecessary to kill anyone, and he didn’t want to kill anyone)

18. In the epilogue, Ango talks about the underlying motivations behind the “Dead Apple” case. This change could be attributed to translation differences (like many others in this post), but the connotation does slightly differ from movie to novel. 

In the movie, Ango says, “How is a man like Shibusawa, so intelligent that others look like alien creatures to him, to act, to be destroyed, or to be saved?”

In the novel, Ango says:

“Perhaps the two of them [Dazai and Fyodor] just wanted to get a glimpse of someone like them... Perhaps they wanted to see what he would do and how he would meet his demise... or perhaps how he would be saved.”

The movie simply poses a broad question of what would happen to Shibusawa, a person alienated from the rest of society. 

The novel changes this to focus on Dazai and Fyodor’s perspective — two irredeemable aliens from society just like Shibusawa — executing this grand scheme out of curiosity to see what would happen to someone of the likes of them, and if there’s a possibility for redemption.

19. This is the final difference on this list, and it’s quite a large change. In Fyodor’s monologue at the very end of the story, he has a completely different tone from the movie to novel.

In the movie, Fyodor says, “But in order to end this world, rife with crime and punishment, I do need that book.”

The novel says: 

Glittering high-rises and stately brick buildings stood side by side in this port city with its countless citizens who struggled against crime and punishment. “I think I’ve taken a liking to this city myself..”  Fyodor took a bite of the apple in his hand, and the juicy nectar ran down his delicate fingers. “You’d all better be on your best behavior until next time.”

The reference to the book may have been removed for consistency with the main series, as the book is a part of the DOA’s plan (or more specifically Fukuchi). 

It also seems like Fyodor has grown fond of the city, and no longer wants Yokohama to be destroyed, so it’s still possible that his plan deterred from what he had originally intended.

Beyond that, I’m not entirely sure why crime and punishment was mentioned, or why there’s such an ominous tone to his ending statement, but that’s up to personal interpretation. 

That concludes the long list of extremely specific and minor differences between the Dead Apple movie and light novel! 

Overall, I would say it’s worth checking out the light novel if you don’t have a strong grasp of the Dead Apple story, because it definitely presents the small intricacies of the plot in a more comprehensible way. 

On a side note, the manga adaptation has a lot of noticeable differences from the movie and light novel, mostly with the addition of entirely new scenes (which you can read @buraihatranslations​ — what a shameless self plug). I would highly recommend reading it as those extra scenes are very amusing, to say the least without giving any spoilers.

Honestly, this post was a lot longer than I intended, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. Thank you for reading!

[mrsh0rr0rxoxo-blog]

Depression

Depression –

 Let’s talk about the different types of Depression that are out there. Once I’m finished, if you are someone who suffers from Depression talk to me. Tell me what you Suffer from. And if you’re so inclined to do so, tell me about what made you this way. Because we didn’t get this way from birth, TRUMA happened to make us this way.

Clinical Depression –

Being sad most of the time, so much that it effects your daily life, you may or may not have this.

Treatment – Talking to your doctor, talking to a Therapist and medication. You may also want to consider making changes in your lifestyle. I know it’s hard, but even the smallest change, might make your Clinical Depression, less noticeable to you.

Major Depression –

Major Depression or as often called by doctors “Major Depressive Disorder” (It’s technically the same thing). To know if this is something that you suffer from, you’re going to feel or should be feeling depressed most of the days during the week, and nothing that you can do will bring you out during those days.

Symptoms –

-         Loss of interest or pleasure you once felt in activities.

-         Weight gain is most common for us Stress eaters & depressed eaters, but don’t be alarmed if you lose weight. It is more common than you think.

-         Not able to sleep at night or able to fall asleep, resulting in you feeling sleepy all day.

-         Feeling Worthless. (Which means in your mind, nothing you can do makes anyone happy) It’s not true, but in your mind it really is.

-         Restless, Sluggish and Agitated (ALL. THE. TIME.)

-         Slowed down physically and or mentally. (But typically if you’re slow physically, your mental state will be slow also.)

-         Always tired with lack of energy.

-         THOUGHTS of Suicide (BUT no action).

-         Can’t concentrate or make decisions.

If you go to your doctor with FIVE or more of these symptoms, and they last more then 2 to 3 weeks, you have a chance of being diagnosed with Major Depression.

Treatment –

Antidepressants, Talk Therapy (Which never worked for me.) Mental Health Specialists that you will be asked to see, they will help you find a way to manage it. (I highly recommend it.)

If medication barely helps – then you can also try ECT & rTMS (Electroconvulsive Therapy & Repetitive Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation)

Consult your Doctor before considering the above treatments in Bold.

 Persistent Depressive Disorder –

Depression lasting more then TWO years. The Term “Persistent Depressive Disorder” is used to describe two conditions, previously known as Dysthymia (low-grade persistent) & Chronic Major Depression.

Symptoms –

-         Change in appetite (Over eating or not at all.)

-         Sleeping too much or too little.

-         Fatigue or lack of energy.

-         Low Self-Esteem.

-         Trouble Concentrating/Making Decisions

-         Always feeling Hopeless.

Treatment –

Psychotherapy, Medication or Both.

Bipolar Disorder –

Someone who is Bipolar – or often called “Manic Depression” Has a mood episode. It can range from Extremes of high energy with an “Up” mood to low “depressive” periods.

When in low Phase, you will have symptoms of Major Depression.

Meds will help bring your moods under control. Whether you’re in a high or low Period. You might also need a mood stabilizer. (Talking with your doctor is the best way to figure that out.)

Bipolar is something Serious and needs to be treated right away.

Traditional  antidepressants are not always going to be recommended as first-line treatments for bipolar depression, since there is no proof from studies that these drugs are more helpful than a placebo(sugar pill) in treating depression in people with bipolar disorder.

Not to mention that for some people with bipolar disorder (like me), some of the traditional antidepressants may increase the risk of causing a “High” phase of illness, or speeding up how often you have these episodes over time.

Psychotherapy can also help you and your family with support.

I can honestly tell you, that my Bipolar Disorder, puts a lot of stress on my husband and child. It’s really bad. When I’m having a “High” day, it’s a bad day for everyone. I don’t even want to work on those days. I can’t focus. But employers don’t understand someone with mental disabilities, so unfortunately in this world, you can’t not go to work because of it.

 Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD or Seasonal Depression as most often heard) –

It is a period of Major Depression that most often happens during the winter months, when the days grow shorter and you get less and less sunlight. It typically will go away in the spring and summer.

If you do have SAD, antidepressants will help. You can also do light therapy. You will need to sit in front of a special bright light box for about 15-30 minutes each day.

Get it treated. Don’t let it go because you know with spring your mental state will clear, if you get too far down the rabbit hole, there’s no coming back out of it with the change of the season.

 Psychotic Depression –

People who have psychotic depression have the symptoms of Major depression along with “Psychotic” symptoms, such as:

-         Hallucinations (seeing or hearing things that are not there)

-         Delusions (false beliefs)

-         Paranoia (wrongly believing that others are trying to harm you.)

Treatment –

A combination of antidepressants and antipsychotic drugs can treat psychotic depression. ECT may also be an option for you.

 Peripartum (PostPartum) Depression –

Women who have major depression in the weeks and months after childbirth may have peripartum depression. Antidepressant drugs can help similarly to treating major depression that is unrelated to childbirth.

Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD) –

Women with PMDD have depression and other symptoms at the start of their period.

Besides feeling depressed, you may also have:

-         Mood Swings

-         Irritability

-         Anxiety

-         Trouble concentrating

-         Fatigue

-         Change in appetite or sleep habits

-         Feelings of being overwhelmed

Treatment –

Antidepressant medication or sometimes oral contraceptives can treat PMDD.

 ‘Situational’ Depression –

Situational – is not a technical term in psychiatry. But you can have a depressed mood based on what is going on in your life, a stressful event that you’re having trouble managing. A death in the family, a divorce, losing your job. Your doctor might call this “stress response syndrome.”

Treatment –

Psychotherapy can often help you get through a period of depression that’s related to a stressful situation.

Atypical Depression –

This is different then the persistent sadness of typical depression. It’s considered to be a “Specifier” that describes a pattern of depressive symptoms. If you have “atypical depression,” a positive event can temporarily improve your mood.

Other symptoms of atypical depression include:

-         Increased appetite

-         Sleeping more than usual

-         Feeling of heaviness in your arms and legs

-         Oversensitive to criticism

Treatments –

Antidepressants can help. Your doctor might suggest a type called SSRI – Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor, as the first line of treatment.

They might also sometimes recommend an older type of antidepressant called MAOI – Monoamine oxidase inhibitor – which is a call of antidepressants that studies state work well with atypical depression.

 Some of you are reading this & thinking, “I’ve been depressed my entire life” that very well maybe true. No doubts about it. It is highly unlikely for you to have every single type of depression, but it is not unlikely for you to have had, experienced each one in your life.

I myself am Bipolar. I suffer from Major Depression & I very often do get Seasonal Depression.

I suffered from Postpartum after I had a miscarriage. I didn’t know that, that was possible, all I knew was my depression was worse. So I seen my doctor he treated me and it finally went away, it went back to my normal Highs & Lows.

My depression started when I was in High School and it has not gone away.

Somedays my depression doesn’t get the best of me, and somedays it does. I can feel myself slipping into depression now, when the bad days are coming. Lately they are more often then not, because I lost a friend that I loved very dearly.

That is her own fault, and I am partly to blame, but I’m not the one that wants everyone to feel bad for me. I think it’s because she suffered a great, great horrible loss in her life and hasn’t found the right way to overcome that, resulting in pushing everyone else away from her. Then making someone else the victim.

I’ve done it before. It’s how I can figure it out.

So, I did what I had to do for me. I stopped talking to her, and ever since there’s been stuff said about me that isn’t true, and it’s making my depression even worse. So, I’m cautious.

I watch what I say and do, I watch what I eat, because I need to eat healthy to keep me in a positive mood. I focus on the things that keep me happy. My husband, child and close, close friends. I read trashy romance novellas because they make me happy, I binge watch Grey’s Anatomy (because who doesn’t love a good cry) and I try to get the best sleep possible.

I’ve recently had an increase in medication, and I do think that is helping. I can’t say that I will ever be okay, and I can’t explain how I’m feeling to people that don’t understand because they will never understand.

  Credits -

Thank you to WebMD, for helping me fact check and make sure that I provided the correct information, treatment and diagnosis.

[drdemonprince]

*grabs the mic* yes hello I would like to take back every single critical thing I ever said about St. Vincent’s latest album Masseduction. 

When I first listened to the album, I found it to be lacking in energy and emotion. It felt rote and dialed in. The number of guitar shreds paled in comparison to the eponymous St. Vincent album, and the number of upbeat bops was insufficient. In the videos, St. Vincent seemed dour and bloodless to me, and I felt like she didn’t even want to be there.

Now that I have read through all the lyrics many times, played the album in order from start to finish hundreds of times with careful attention, and read up on what Annie Clark’s been up to the past few years, I would like to apologize to everyone and say I TAKE IT ALL BACK

This is the best break-up album since Joanna Newsome’s Have One On Me. And trust me, that is a lot coming from me; I adored that album and listened to it daily when I was going through a breakup that left me nearly suicidal. This album is just as good, and I don’t even have the benefit of going through a similar experience at the time it’s coming out, the way I did with Have One On Me.

This album, to me, is a tribute to the patterns of ennui, self-medication, and hypersexuality that a recently heartbroken, deeply depressed person can through. The apparent bloodlessness is intentional, and it reflects Clark’s actual emotional state during her breakup, but there is also a massive undertow of pain and complexity drifting beneath it all. This is an album about growing older, losing beloved friends and lovers, and going through the motions day after day, living your own death. It’s an album about seeking refuge in sex and pills to get through a bleak period, discovering too late that your coping mechanisms don’t even help you cope anymore, and walking to the very edge of life before deciding to subject yourself to the pain of heartbreak all over again because hey, what could be better than love?

Clark has mentioned in interviews that following the release of St. Vincent, she spent a year touring and heavily medicated. That, of course, is what “Pills” is about, but the aftermath of that exhausting, detached period in her life is the entire backdrop of the album. In “Young Lover”, her ex describes her as distant, drunk, “gone again” – Clark clearly checked out before the relationship was over. While she was distant, her partner was relapsing in her own addiction, driving them both even farther apart and deeper into their respective despairs.

While the album is about 50% breakup songs, the title and imagery of the album is sexual, yet cold. The model on the front of the album is bent over and revealed, but also covered up. Her posture is rigid and uncomfortable. She looks like a doll. In the videos for the album, Clark is clad in vinyl and tights and spandex and heels, and is surrounded by beautiful, vacant looking women. The colors are lush and the images are arresting, but everything is lacking in joy. 

The songs about sex discuss it as a refuge, an entertainment, an attempt at being a savior or a martyr and failing. It’s not so much that Clark is trying to numb herself out with sex; it’s that sex is the only vestige of liveliness left within her, and in the wake of an addiction and breakup she’s chosen to fling herself into it, with mostly disappointing results. The sex she’s having isn’t bad, but it’s not enough. It’s not a reason to live. It’s not love.

“Happy Birthday Johnny” seemed the most out of place song on the album the first time I listened to it, but now I take that back, too. In that song, Clark brings back the Prince Johnny character described in her last album, and shares with us that he is much worse for the wear this time around. Like Clark & her ex girlfriend, his addiction has developed; unlike the two of them, that’s left him homeless and poor. Clark doesn’t know where he is or how he’s doing; he reached out to her for money and she didn’t acquiesce. He is suffering while she’s on the cover of magazines but taking no joy in it. The song further illustrates how Clark’s fame & success has alienated her, blunted her to the suffering of others, and allowed her reliance on substances to quietly fester when, for other people with less privilege, doing so would be a disaster.

When I first listened to “Slow Disco” I had to turn it off because it was too depressing. Now it’s one of my favorites on the album. During this period of Clark’s life, she’s been ghostly quite often, and in quite a lot of ways. She’s checked out of her relationship, she’s checked out of her friend’s life, she’s numb and heavily medicated, and the only thing that brings her up for air is the need for sex -- I can’t turn off what turns me on, she sings in “Masseduction”, but it’s clear she can turn off her head and her heart. She’s abdicated her life. She’s been gone for a long time. And "Slow Disco” is such a perfect tribute to that feeling of being technically alive but utterly removed from everyone around you. I remember feeling that way – due to depression, or because I was going through the motions in a relationship I knew was fated to end – and Clark renders it perfectly. It’s so tragic. But it’s also so cold. It’s hard to feel the full sadness of it. You’re a ghost after all.

The end of “Smoking Section”, the final song on the album, is the only turning point, the great moment of emotional release and pathos and a return to life. Paradoxically, St. Vincent is reborn through the contemplation of suicide. In the song, she recounts how she’s tempted danger, driven her beloved away, and become an island of water within a vast expanse of land (an “inland ocean”, as she puts it). Now she’s left on the roof of her building, looking down and back on everything she’s done and lost. It’s only right then, when she’s fantasizing about the release of death, that she is reminded of the beauty and joy and pain of feeling love, real love, for somebody else.

And she stops. Her voice soars and cracks. She becomes more expressive than she has been in the entire album. Her spirit returns to her body. She’s tragically sad, and broken, and she’s deciding to face the pain of love again. After more than a year of walking around the earth as a ghost, she’s determined to try again, and pursue the very thing that left her in this crestfallen position. Every time I hear that final refrain – “it’s not the end, it’s not the end, it’s not the end”, I as a listener become a tiny bit more committed to staying alive.

This album is a slow, cold burn, but it’s worth getting to know it.  I’m glad I finally did. 

@nocountryforoldjetpacks

[pisati]

this isn’t completely unfamiliar.

it’s not any worse than it has been. maybe on my end; just a little embarrassed. I’m really not usually like that. taking a few steps back, I’m honestly pretty annoyed with myself. 

I have my reasons, but they’re not all that good. I’m incredibly insecure. don’t know how to feel secure. I feel out of place in this world, but that’s not anyone’s problem but my own. why should I ever have the audacity to believe I matter? to believe I could be significant to another person? an exaggeration, I’m sure. but I’ve been mostly right so far.

I fell asleep again this afternoon, pulling my hat down over my eyes and my blanket up over my shoulders, feeling like I could just disappear. for all anyone knows, I have. nowhere to go, nowhere to be. nothing to say. I’m not in school, I’m not at work. after I pay my taxes this year I’ve got nothing else that says I’m even here, really. I don’t own my car or this house. I’m not on anyone’s radar. I’m off the fucking map. I’m just existing here, and barely.

I really don’t have much memory of the last few months. I was just scrolling back through pictures on my phone, deleting some, and there’s some I don’t even remember saving. just a few weeks ago tops. some I remember taking, but it seems like a whole hell of a lot longer ago than just a few weeks. maybe that’s not unusual, but it is for me. especially given that I have literally nothing else going on. not a lot to think about. time shouldn’t feel this... messed up.

I put Do Not Disturb mode on my phone last night for the first time in.. probably a good few weeks to months now. maybe it’s about time to move my charging cable back to my purse. go back to just looking at my alarm clock dock for the time, rolling over. nothing to check, nothing to answer. 

maybe this is why I haven’t tried much. I’ve been feeling really out-of-sorts for what feels like a long time. I told the lady screening me at my psych appointment last week about how my last job had me so miserable I actually noticed myself starting to feel reckless. I wouldn’t do anything stupid intentionally; consciously I know it’d be more of a mess that I didn’t want to deal with. but I’d often have the thought while driving to the office that.. what if a car swerved over from the other side of the road? what if I just drifted over? what if I got on the highway and kept going; ignored all the emails and hangouts messages and calls and just never showed up again? I got pulled over for speeding and it hardly fazed me; the last time that happened I had a panic attack the entire rest of the way home. I’d start crying on the drive in. have the thought almost every day that one of these days it’ll be the last time I have to walk through these doors. come home too exhausted to speak, pull my pajamas back on, and curl up in bed until it was time to make dinner. I’m sure a few times I didn’t even make it to bed; just curled up on the floor and cried. I’d sit on the stairs, crying, telling my mom I couldn’t do it. I wanted to quit. I still have dreams (nightmares?) about being back there; for some reason they re-hired me. in the last dream I got fired again; bringing me back was a mistake. I didn’t want to have to see our dickhead president ever again, and yet there he is, in my dreams. still a dickhead.

I also mentioned my tattoo, my cartilage piercing, and cutting my hair off, since all of those were kind of impulsive. she asked me if I regretted them and I said no, but I also didn’t really care, you know? I DID want the cartilage piercing; I have since I was 17, and I even remember being like 5 or 6 and doodling my future self with a whole bunch of piercings. I wanted the tattoo; I still kind of want more to make a half-sleeve. and I was so sick of my hair being sickly thin-looking when it was long; it started falling out when I was 17 and never grew back in, and I spent 5 or 6 years wanting to chop it all off. but... I had my reasons why I didn’t do those things before. I did them all last year because I wanted to, but also because I just stopped caring about the potential consequences. I’m sure festivus was part of that impulsivity as well. I do remember having the split-second thought that well, I haven’t done anything real stupid in a while, fuck it. consciously I know that was something I really, really shouldn’t have done. I would have slapped myself straight across the face for even thinking about it if that were me 6 months ago. I’m really unhappy with myself. but in the moment, I just didn’t care about the consequences. I think I even numbed out a little bit. just, whatever. I’ve never been the “fuck it, sure” type of person before, but over the last year and a half or so I’ve had this “whatever” attitude towards way too many things. this is a completely new monster to me. I don’t like it. I don’t like flipping so hard between thoughts and feelings and going with my impulses because who the fuck cares? I should care more about what happens to me. some of the time, it works in my favor. but obviously not all of it is as harmless. 

the suicidal urge people get usually only lasts about 15-20 minutes. once it passes, people often realize they don’t want to die, or they seem a little surprised; they would never. what do you do when you get hit with those 15-20 minutes? what stops you?

I had to think about it for a second. I said my mom. she lost it entirely when my brother got all fucked on acid; I don’t want to imagine any worse. my rats too; they need me. other than that... what really does stop me? at least I have enough sense to know that it’ll pass if I wait it out. 

sometimes I wish there were a pill that could shut your brain off.

I didn’t have bad dreams last night, but I did have dreams, and I woke up exhausted. I was trying to get to a show, I had floor tickets, I was already an hour late and I’d never get a barrier spot if I didn’t get to the venue, but it took me 20 minutes to walk to my apartment, so I started running; like, those kinds of dreams. I just want to turn it off. I’m tired of thinking all the goddamn time. even when I’m not awake, I’m still going. the sedatives don’t make it stop. they just make my body stop.

I’ve noted how different I felt a few times over the last few years. memory issues help too. I’m forgetting what it all felt like. I’ve had to dig it up again recently to describe what happened, but it’s all just words. what memories I do have, and they’re fuzzy. I am past it. it’s nice, in a way, to forget. for a while I held on to it. the few good memories I had. the proof that I’m not completely unlovable. it made me sad, too, though. I’d go visit and it’d still be fresh and it felt weird. it was weird to be back and trying to talk and act like nothing had happened. like I wasn’t still hurting. but T feels like a stranger to me now. a stranger I can still talk to, whom I still trust and respect very much, but a stranger, as far as I’m concerned. we barely knew each other then, even less now. A was my best friend for something like three years. he’s still one of the only people who knows me as well as he does. that’s what I keep close. the times we’d watch shows together and rest our heads on each other; when he didn’t shrug me off. when he played that dumb computer game and I’d watch; we’d both laugh til we cried because we had the same weird, morbid sense of humor about the whole thing. he’d take me to the pet store so I could see the animals. the book store too, because I liked it. poking fun at me a little bit for living where I do and being so mesmerized, because on clear nights in Johnstown all I wanted to do was stand in the dark and look at the stars. you could see an arm of the milky way from his backyard. he let me lay my head on his lap at farm jam my first year and just look at them all. made sure I ate when I’d get nervous. poked fun at me for being so picky but would still make me something I’d eat. he built two funeral pyres for Marty and Jay and let me bring them up to cremate them after they each passed; got some hair clippings for me because I was too upset to see them like that. that’s what I care about most. he still hurt me a whole hell of a lot. I won’t say I’m over the hurt. or, the aftermath of it, anyway. but over him as something more than a close friend? absolutely. even if he pulled a complete 180 and decided I was actually the love of his life... I don’t know how I could go back. I don’t think I could ever feel again the way I felt about him before.

Fitzie’s really not doing well. he’s eating and drinking alright, but his poops are smaller and he really struggles to get his footing. when he walks on the floor his back half leans to one side; it’s like he’s walking diagonally. his back left leg is worse. he struggles to get his back feet under him. he can’t lift them very well so he thumps his feet on the ground when he scratches. I’m not ready for this again. thankfully my last loss was Scottie, almost a year ago. so I’m at least a little more braced this time. I’ve had time; it’s not a surprise. but I can’t believe I’ve had him since he was a tiny 3-week-old little mouse. it was only just over two years ago. now he’s a little old man, and I don’t know how many more months he has left. I want to enjoy what time I have. holding him to my chest, giving him little kisses while he gently licks my hand. that’s been weaker too. I just hope he knows I love him. I hope Frankie and Scottie knew too. 

I don’t know why I have this impulse to share my thoughts. got almost 90k tweets, and nothing really good to say, ever. on timehop most of it is just me talking to myself about school, since literally nobody else cares. thoughts and feelings. musings. any dumb thought that popped into my head. I used to journal on my blogs too. write and write and write. not unlike this. nobody would read it, but that was okay. in some cases I didn’t want anyone to read it anyway. I think in some ways I see it as a substitute for human interaction. if I can’t have that, I’ll just write out what’s in my head. tweet it out if I can’t tell it to anyone. it can be good and even cathartic to let it out, but on the other side of that coin... nobody’s really hurting if I don’t say anything either.  I got comfortable with talking. some things, people needed to see normalized. I’ve talked about my depression and anxiety on facebook. I’m not ashamed of it; they’re illnesses I have that are very common and have unfortunate amounts of stigma surrounding them. people have felt safe talking to me and asking for advice. other things... I don’t really care, honestly. I don’t know why I’m such an open book, often to total strangers. do I think it makes me seem more relatable? more friendly? trustworthy? that I’m willing to just talk and talk about anything? if that is the case, it’s not conscious. I read that that’s another sign of an anxious attachment style, but I don’t see it as an anxiety thing necessarily. part of me thinks that’s just how I am. and yet, still, if someone were willing to talk, I’d talk. and talk, and talk. it’s not that I don’t have a filter, I just.. don’t always know how much is too much. it bothers me. I wish I’d just shut up sometimes. I don’t have to vocalize every stupid thought that pops into my head. every tangent, every related thing. maybe I just got used to letting it all out. having to explain myself. that feels impulsive in a way too, but I also know my mom does something similar. maybe I learned from her.

like, do I really want people to know me? every little thing? do I really think I’m that interesting? that anything I have to say holds any kind of weight? does everyone need to know what’s going on in my life? why do I feel like that? I mean... social media prompts you to share, share, share. everything. all the time. I don’t recall having that urge when I was younger, before everything was online. I liked journaling, I always have. maybe social media hasn’t been the best influence on me. someone that feels like she needs approval. that constant feedback loop. it’s not healthy. yet I still can’t get away from it. I tried to take a break; I failed. I’m sure I could try again. but I also don’t like the isolation that comes with avoiding it. it’s already quiet when people don’t talk to you and you don’t talk to anyone, but it still feels a little like company when you can see what other people are doing and saying. I remember the summer I got really sick and I was drowning in anxiety; I’m pretty sure I cried over my spotify friend activity bar disappearing for a few weeks. it even felt like company to be able to see what music my friends were listening to.

the lady doing my screening asked me what my depression looks like. I mentioned the recklessness, the impulsivity. of course the hopeless feelings, the deep discontent, the sadness. I’ve always had a melancholic temperament; always felt deeply. I’m sure, with a history of mental illness on both sides of the family, I was bound to end up like this. I remembered later that I also get restless. I never used to have that before. sometimes I just feel... antsy. like I just want to go. or do something. but I can’t. that causes me a lot of distress. I didn’t mention my itch to travel, but that’s part of it too, I think. I got the urge to travel the first time after that one new years. I came home from indiana and I was so out of it. I wanted to be as far away from pennsylvania as possible; mom found me looking up flights to LA and she offered to go with me. she didn’t know why I wanted to run and didn’t ask. it did help to be across the country, and it certainly helped to be in a warmer climate, but my feelings didn’t slough off and stick to the runway like I hoped they would. I still felt bad, but now I was feeling bad in LA.  it didn’t really occur to me that I got the urge to run like that again after my dad passed. I guess I just want to run when I’m hurt. get away. be somewhere where no one knows me. I actually get traveling anxiety pretty bad, but for some reason I can override it when things like this happen. I want to overwhelm myself with how different everything is so I don’t have to think about the pain. of course I still think about it.

another thing I didn’t think about, that I’m sure is related... I’ve noticed that my emotions flip around a lot. the lady screening me asked if I ever felt on top of the world; I said no. I know I’m not bipolar. I don’t flip that drastically. when she asked on a scale of 1-10, 1 being the lowest, worst I’ve ever felt, and 10 being on top of the world, where do I normally sit, I said usually I hover around a 4-5. pretty neutral, but there’s always the Bad Feelings(tm) lingering. but I get flashes of strong, uncharacteristic anger sometimes, over little things. I get annoyed way too easily over little things. I’ve been way more impatient than I used to be. the impatience leads to the antsy feelings sometimes. sometimes I can reason with myself, and reason my way out of certain mood switches, but other times I can’t. it’s all very confusing. but these are all signs of depression too. 

I didn’t think it was this bad, to be honest. 

I know when the depression kicks every so often because I’ll feel really deeply sad, and nothing helps. I’ve had the suicidal thoughts. I’ve cried so hard I’ve almost puked over nothing and everything; I just feel bad. I know on a conscious level that depression can also manifest as exhaustion, insomnia, restlessness, impulsivity, mood swings, apathy towards yourself and your wellbeing. but I may not have connected the dots with myself until very recently. maybe I thought these things were unrelated. I was watching for the wrong things. I thought I’d know if my depression got worse because I’d be unable to get out of bed, or shower, or eat, because I’ve been there before. I’m there now, but it’s more no energy and less can’t do it because I'm too sad. I thought the suicidal thoughts would get worse, or I’d be in that dark pit I sometimes get into for longer. it didn’t occur to me that I could be feeling relatively stable for the most part, even have good days, be as functional as my energy levels will allow me to be, have my usual occasional dips, but be so apathetic towards myself that it borders on reckless. I could be impulsive-- more than I’ve ever been. I could be moody but not just sad or self-destructive; irritable, impatient, angry. it really has been getting worse, and it literally never registered. 

I was thinking, too, about how I started saying last year that I was in such a fog, I felt mentally somewhere around 22. I felt like I’d stagnated. I still feel that way. I feel different than I did at 21, but I don’t feel like I’ve progressed much past that. I know what growth feels like, and I’ve literally been stuck. my last job had me in a rut. and, like, no wonder I’ve felt like I’m still somewhere around 22, almost 23. that was when it started. right after I graduated college. that’s why I don’t remember much of the last year and a half, almost 2 years. everything changed, not all for the better, and I just let myself sink into it. I’m 25 in another 6 months and I just. I don’t even know where I’m at at this point. I did feel better after I lost my job, but I also have very little recollection of what happened between then and now, besides the big things. I’m still in that fog and my sense of time is so fucked. I’m sure part of that is my physical health, but I’m just a mess of symptoms at this point. who even knows what’s what.

I’m really not a fan of the person I’ve been lately, though. overall. I’m trying. I know that a lot of it isn’t me. I’m not saying ideal me is who I am, but normal me is far from this. sick me has been avoiding getting help for too long. because it was never bad enough before. I wasn’t actively trying to hurt myself or anyone else, therefore I wasn’t in bad enough shape to need meds, according to my university health center. they were booked to capacity and didn’t have room for someone who just felt bad a lot. talking to some grad student in a family therapy program in the school of public health didn’t help. I dropped the idea entirely. figured I could deal. I kept going as-is and watched for the wrong signs of getting worse.

I feel like this isn’t me, but of course I’m responsible for my actions, hence why I’m really not thrilled with myself. mental illness isn’t an excuse, it’s an explanation. I have no excuse for the shitty things I’ve done because my depression has been making me feel reckless and impulsive. 

I love volunteering at the animal shelter. that’s what’s been keeping me sane for the last year. it’s a place to go, it’s something to do. and I help. I have a real, tangible impact somewhere, and staff really appreciates my help with the smalls. that’s the one good thing I’ve been able to do with myself lately. I think starting guitar lessons was a good thing for me too, but I’m not pulling my weight with it like I should. it’s holding me back a lot that I feel like I have no creativity. I’ve never had much creativity, to be honest, but somehow I feel like maybe part of my writer’s block, so to speak, is the fact that I’m not getting enough sleep and I’m depressed as hell. I certainly listen to enough music; I’m up to my ears in references and inspiration. yet I still can’t come up with anything myself. that’s so frustrating for me. I hate playing the same songs over and over and still messing them up; I hate getting so nervous around anything with a microphone or a camera that I forget the chords and words to songs I’ve been playing for years. I know all that comes with practice, but I feel like I’m keeping myself in a rut being like this. I want to do better. I want to explore. something’s missing and I just don’t know what.

so, that’s that on that I guess. I don’t like this. but I’m just glad that I’m starting to get help. that I recognize what’s wrong and that I can’t fix it on my own. maybe whatever antidepressant my doctor puts me on will quell the impulsivity and help my cognitive function a little bit. get me a little bit closer to normal again. that’s where I want to be. I don’t have a clear idea of my ideal self. maybe the best version of me possible is just... stable. still hovering around a 4-5, but maybe with some more 6. as with my physical health, the best I can hope for is improvement. functional. better. any little step forward is something. I’ll see where I end up when I get there.

[suzannebyrne]

What Chris Cornell Has Said About Depression and Addiction

Chris Cornell attended Elton John’s 70th birthday bash in Hollywood on March 25. (Photo: Michael Kovac/Getty Images)

Chris Cornell was found dead on the bathroom floor of his hotel room at MGM Grand Detroit shortly after a Soundgarden show on Wednesday night. According to TMZ, there was a “band” around the 52-year-old rock star’s neck and no blood, so the police suspect a suicide — and that plays into his spokesperson’s statement that it was “sudden and unexpected.” His wife, Vicky Karayiannis, reportedly had called a family friend to check on Cornell and that person forced his way into the room and made the discovery, though she also told friends Cornell didn’t seem depressed and wouldn’t take his life.

With autopsies and toxicology reports to follow, people are left wondering what happened to the talented singer and songwriter — who also was in Audioslave and had an extensive solo career — and looking back at some of his personal struggles, including with addiction and depression. The story begins in Seattle, where Cornell and Soundgarden were part of the grunge scene. He grew up in the city, but described his neighborhood as very “white. Urban but not really urban, suburban but not really suburbia. It was lower-middle-class white.” But it was a place where he was introduced to drugs and alcohol early on.

Early exposure

“We were all selling drugs by the time we were 12, or doing them,” he told Rolling Stone in that same interview in 1994. “Pot or pills or anything that was easily available. My neighbors to the south had two boys who were probably in their late teens when I was about 11, and they were just huge into drugs. I remember walking by the basement window one time, and this one dude … was shooting something at me from a syringe out the window. I don’t even know what it was, but it was shooting 15 feet, and I’m walking by, trying to dodge this thing. Those were the kind of people who lived near me.” He had said he also started drinking at that young age.

Cornell attended Catholic school and after being kicked out of eighth grade (twice!), he was sent to a vocational school, which he only attended briefly, bringing an end to his formal education.

“It was mainly for degenerate young people,” said Cornell, who was the youngest of six (aka the “Bobby Brady,” he once quipped). “It was the last ditch for kids that couldn’t go anywhere else. The concept for me was entirely wrong because it was sort of learn at your own pace, do your own thing, and my own thing was not school. So I’d go there and not do anything at all. It was just a waste of time.” (He and Vicky, his second wife, later started a foundation to help troubled kids. He recently traveled to Greece to visit a refugee camp there.)

Chris Cornell as he performed with Soundgarden for the last time in Detroit at the Fox Theatre on May 17, 2017. (Photo: Splash News)

Overcoming addiction

The drug thing stuck with Cornell — or should we say surrounded him. His roommate, Andy Wood of the band Mother Love Bone, died of a heroin overdose in 1990, inspiring Cornell’s band/album Temple of the Dog. He struggled himself in the nineties and early aughts, seeking treatment for addiction in 2002. (He told the Mirror in 2012 it was “mostly alcohol — from my late teens until my late thirties.”)

“The thing is, when you pick up the pipe for the first time, you don’t know that that’s your fate,” Cornell told Details in 2012. “The moment isn’t that dramatic. And then that was it — I didn’t want to care anymore.” He added that the “biggest difference I noticed” post-rehab with his band, whom he split from and then reconnected with, “and we haven’t even really talked about it: There are no bottles of Jack Daniels around or beers. And we never talked about.. it’s just not there.”

As for his decision to to go to rehab, he told Launch in 2007, “I really had to come to the conclusion, the sort of humbling conclusion that, guess what, I’m no different than anybody else, I’ve got to sort of ask for help — not something I ever did, ever. And then part two of that is, like, accept it when it comes and, you know, believe what people tell me. And trusting in what I have been told, and then seeing that work.”

In 2015, while promoting his final solo album Higher Truth, he talked about how his sobriety helped his music, but noted he was still trying to “kind of figure out who the substance-free guy is.”

“If I think about the evolution of my life as it appears in songs for example, Higher Truth is a great example of a record I wouldn’t have been able to write, and part of that is in essence because there was a period of time there where I didn’t expect to be here,” he told Rolling Stone Australia. “And now not only do I expect to be here, and I’m not going anywhere, but I’ve had the last 12 years of my life being free of substances to kind of figure out who the substance-free guy is, because he’s a different guy. Just by brain chemistry, it can’t be avoided. I’m not the same, I don’t think the same, I don’t react the same. And my outlook isn’t necessarily the same. My creative endeavors aren’t necessarily the same. And one of the great things about that is it enabled me to kind of keep going artistically and find new places and shine the light into new corners where I hadn’t really gone before. And that feels really good.”

In June, he was asked by the Tampa Bay Times about the recent high-profile, drug-related deaths of artists like Scott Weiland and Prince in an interview that noted he had been “sober for years.” He said, “What ends up happening with musicians and actors is, they’re famous, so when somebody has an issue, it’s something that gets talked about. People die of drug overdoses every day that nobody talks about. It’s a shame that famous people get all the focus, because it then gets glorified a little bit, like, ‘This person was too sensitive for the world,’ and, ‘A light twice as bright lives half as long,’ and all that. Which is all bulls***. It’s not true.” (He did a lot of work to help other musicians overcoming addiction and was awarded for it.)

Dealing with depression

As far as depression, Cornell had said that he had a tendency to “be pretty closed off” and reclusive.

“It’s about trying to step out of being patterned and closed off and reclusive, which I’ve always had a problem with,” he told Rolling Stone. “It’s about attempting to be normal and just go out and be around other people and hang out. I have a tendency to sometimes be pretty closed off and not see people for long periods of time and not call anyone.”

He once described the period before rehab as a time in which he was dealing with the “daily drudgery of depression and either trying to not drink or do drugs or doing them.”  In the 2015 interview with Rolling Stone Australia, he said that when he was drinking too much, it “has its own problems, particularly with depression.”

Talking about how his own music had melancholy vibes around the release of 1999’s Euphoria Morning, he told Guitar.com, “I’ve always liked depressing music because a lot of times listening to it when you’re down can actually make you feel less depressed. Also, even though a person may have problems with depression, sometimes you can actually be kind of comfortable in that space because you know how to operate within it.”

Asked if he perceived run-of-the-mill depression as a comfort zone, he replied, “The problem is, no one really knows what run-of-the-mill depression is. You’ll think somebody has run-of-the-mill depression, and then the next thing you know, they’re hanging from a rope. It’s hard to tell the difference. But I do feel that depression can be useful. Sometimes it’s just chemical. It doesn’t seem to come from anywhere. And whenever I’ve been in any kind of depression, I’ve over the years tried to not only imagine what it feels like to not be there, but try to remind myself that I could just wake up the next day and it could be gone because that happens, and not to worry about it. And at the same time, when I’m feeling great, I remember the depression and think about the differences in what I’m feeling and why I would feel that way, and not be reactionary one way or the other. You just have to realize that these are patterns of life and you just go through them.”

The family man

That said, Cornell relished in his family life. After his first marriage to Susan Silver ended bitterly (she was Soundgarden’s band manager and they had a daughter, Lillian, now 16, together), he got remarried to Vicky, a Paris-based publicist, in the City of Light in 2004. Their engagement was star-studded (he gave her a Harry Winston diamond, then they partied with supermodels) as was their wedding. Talent manager Jeff Kwatinetz was Cornell’s best man and Brittany Murphy, who was engaged to Kwatinetz at the time, was the maid of honor. After Murphy died in 2009, stolen video footage from Cornell’s wedding was put up for sale (dubbed “lost” footage of the dead starlet), leading Cornell to take legal action.

The singer had two children — Toni, 12, and Christopher, 11 — with Vicky, whom he described as an “an angel,” a “lioness,” and “the perfect mother and perfect wife” in a sweet Mother’s Day tweet.

To my @vickycornell you are an angel and a lioness. The perfect mother and the perfect wife. I love you! Happy #MothersDay2017 pic.twitter.com/Olv4Wyh1zD

— Chris Cornell (@chriscornell) May 14, 2017

Cornell said in the Details interview that he had to work hard to win over her family, saying, “When I met my wife Vicky’s family, I had to go out of my way to convince them, to show them, that I wasn’t anything like their idea of a musician,” he admitted.

He proudly showed off his family on the red carpet, including at an event just last month in NYC.

Chris Cornell with wife Vicky and children Toni and Christopher at a screening of The Promise in NYC on April 18, 2017. (Photo: Nicholas Hunt/Getty Images)

He also shared photos of his family on Instagram, including his daughter from his first marriage.

With Toni, Lily & Chris in Seattle. Photo: Paul Lorkowski

A post shared by Chris Cornell (@chriscornellofficial) on Nov 8, 2014 at 2:01pm PST

At the Vatican with my daughter Toni for a special screening of @ThePromisefilm #KeepThePromise

A post shared by Chris Cornell (@chriscornellofficial) on Apr 5, 2017 at 11:07am PDT

Happy 11th birthday to my son Christopher. I love you!

A post shared by Chris Cornell (@chriscornellofficial) on Dec 5, 2016 at 10:50am PST

Me and my ladies moments before the start of Gigi!

A post shared by Chris Cornell (@chriscornellofficial) on Apr 12, 2015 at 3:15pm PDT

In fact, all his final social media posts seemed full of optimism, hope, and love, including his last tweet about being excited to be in Detroit. Though it’s been pointed out that he closed his show with Led Zeppelin’s “In My Time of Dying” and posted a Facebook clip yesterday from “By Crooked Steps” that he captioned with the lyric, “I’m the shape of the hole Inside your heart.”

While it’s hard not to look into every little thing, especially while we wait for definitive information about his death, Cornell — almost cryptically — once complained about people reading into a songwriters lyrics after they died.

“When Andy [Wood] died, I couldn’t listen to his songs for about two years after that, and it was for that reason — his lyrics often seem as though they can tell that story,” he said to Rolling Stone of his friend’s drug death. “But then again, my lyrics often could tell the same one. In terms of seeing everything as a matter of life and death — if that’s what you’re feeling at the time, then that’s what you’re going to write. It’s sort of a morbid exchange when somebody who is a writer like that dies, and then everyone starts picking through all their lyrics.”

Let’s try not to pick too much until we have more answers.

Read more from Yahoo Celebrity:

Amber Rose Trolls Beyoncé and Tyga, Then Claims She Got Hacked

‘The Daily Show’ Accused of Transphobia After Trump Tweet Misses the Mark

How Sylvester Stallone’s Marriage to Jennifer Flavin Was Nearly Doomed by … FedEx?!

[to-my-beloved-fandoms-blog]

Tag 11

  Rules: Answer the 11 questions the tagger sets, tag 11 people, and ask them 11 questions.

Tagged by the sweetheart and pure soul, @moonlight-lyrics <3 ( check her out!)

Your questions are :

1. What is something you find romantic?   

Oh goodness, I am a softie and am kind of cheesy. I find simple dates romantic, like a good milkshake, movie, or just a walk at night in the park. I even love hand made gifts more. <3    

2. What movie would you use to describe your life? 

Oh god, I adore films.. This is a hard one for me. I would say..  it’s between Edward Scissorhands because I am my own Edward and that I was created but people see me as a freak and don’t understand me, so they blame me, but I create beautiful ( art) ice statues.  Or Alice In Wonderland because I am always in my own little world and have a very... odd mind. 

3. If you could invent a new flavor of ice cream, what would it be?   

Ohhh~ I lovvvvee ice cream! So I would say... Earl Grey- Blackberry-sugar cookie flavor :)  

4. What is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

When my now girlfriend, called me on the phone via facebook ( on the app) and asked me to be her girlfriend. We both cried like babies from all the feels. It was amazing and I can’t wait to be married to them one day. :) <3

5. Who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

This is a great question! I would say ether the 10th/11th Doctor and a letter saying they will take me and my girlfriend away in the Tardis. Or a letter from Cas, saying he is waiting for me outside in the impala with my girlfriend, and wants us to meet sam and dean, then go live in the bunker and finally get me away from my household..

6. Your idea of a perfect first date?    

Oh! Mostly going anywhere but being able to really get to know the person. My fave is like a tea place, so you can have tea, eat and talk for hours on end, or a book store. :3 If not then a movie, short, sweet, and you get to be near each other.

7. What is your favorite cartoon character?    

TO MANY TO COOOUNNNT. I will do my top five most recent ones I have seen to make it fair to my cartoon children. 1.) Steven Universe 2.) Jessica Rabbit 3.) Raven ( from TT, the original ) 4.) Princess BB 5.) Gumball :3 

8. What is your favorite song at the moment??    

Hushabye- Korn or LA Devotie- P!ATD <3

9. Most valued possession?    

Does my girlfriends heart count? If not then I would say the plushie my girlfriend made me out of her old, fave, shirt ( it smells like her too, and I name the dog plush Jareth after The Goblin king c:)

10. What is your MBTI personality type?

It is one of the most rare ones! :D I am very proud of it too! I am a INFJ! :)

11. What would you want written on your tombstone?

I have thought about this a lot, I use to think I wouldn’t have one because I would have ( trigger warning here, suicide mentioned) , for years, killed myself or gotten killed by my bullies, and ended up in the woods or some trash bin, or even in the back lot of a motel from jumping off. annnyyywasss. I would have it now say something about how I helped people and to make people not give up hope and keep creating. 

My questions:

1.) Would you rather Hogwarts or Wonderland be real?

2.) What age did you have your first crush?

3.) What type of style do you have? ( fashion wise)

4.) Fave book to read? If not, then movie?

5.) If you had two pills in front of you, one that is blue and can make you be able to forget a painful event, and another pill, a yellow one, that could make you bring anyone back from the dead, which would you choose and why?

6.) If you have to choose, are you a snake person or a shark person?

7.) Are you are full face makeup person or a no face makeup person?

8.) What character would you want to marry, be best friends with, and bring back from the dead?

9.) Are you a Doctor Who fan?

10.) What is your sexuality and when did you figure out you where that? ( if not out yet/ not comfy replying) Then do you support the LGBT+ community? 

11.)  Are you a Fall weather, hot cider, and haunted houses person? 

Tags: @ EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO DO THIS! :D I will tag only a couple, I am so sorry for “breaking the rules”,@every-person-for-themselves @fandomlife-universe @trisscar368 @madlepus @tradigitalhollow 

[whatwouldfrogsdo]

Sensitive (or Shout)

Day 4 of Nursey Week!

The majority of this takes place at a doctor’s office, so trigger warning for symptom discussion (although actually a lot of that is implicit instead of explicit), diagnosis and medication and stuff.

Also on AO3 here.

“I just have to take a few details, Derek, and then we can have a chat. What is your date of birth?”

“Er, February the fourteenth, 1996.”

“Valentine’s Day!” Nursey just stared, unimpressed, at the doctor, who smiled a little sheepishly. “Happy birthday for Tuesday.”

“Sure,” he replied stiffly. Being in the doctor’s office a few days before his sixteenth birthday wasn’t what he would describe as ‘happy’.

“And you are a student at Phillips Academy?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you sure you would not rather have a teacher in here with you?” The doctor glanced at Andy.

“I’m sure. I don’t want to talk about this in front of either of them.” Derek nodded his head in the direction of the waiting room, where the two teachers who had brought them out of school to come to the doctor’s office waited.

“You would like your friend to stay, though? Brother?”

The noise Andy made almost made Derek crack a smile. They didn’t look anything like each other. They weren’t even remotely the same ethnicity.

“Friend, and yes.”

“Okay. Tell me what the matter is.”

“I feel tired all the time. Or not even tired, but I want to sleep. My dorm buddies have to practically drag me out of bed every morning. I just don’t want to do anything. Nothing’s interesting.”

He saw, in the doctor’s eyes, the moment she decided that Derek was wasting her time. “That is a perfectly normal feeling for teenagers of your age,” she started.

“No, you don’t understand,” Andy cut across. “We live in a dorm with ten other people, so I know teenagers our age. This is more than is just a normal amount of sleeping in, or apathy towards classes. He doesn’t care about anything anymore. Not even hockey, and he loves that shit. And compared to the beginning of the year-”

“Sir, I promise you, this might not be something everyone feels, but I see a lot of teenagers who have gone off a hobby they used to have.”

“At the beginning of the school year, he was interested in everything. He wasn’t sleeping, because he had too much to do. He was happy. Almost too happy.”

“Yeah, there were times it got really scary,” Derek agreed. Tears pricked in his eyes. He never cried in public, but the past few weeks he had felt more and more sensitive. He bit on his lip until it hurt, and the urge to cry disappeared.

The doctor’s attention had been caught, now. “How long did this enthusiasm last?”

Derek and Andy shared a look. “A few months, maybe. It started when it was still the summer, and by Thanksgiving, I’d mellowed out.”

“He was back to himself again in November,” Andy said with a nod.

“And this recent dip in mood, when did that start?”

“A couple of weeks ago,” Andy said. “I know that’s not really long enough to get a picture with things like this, but it’s been long enough to affect his schoolwork and hockey, so I persuaded him to let us bring him here anyway.”

The doctor hummed thoughtfully. She reached for a thick book on the shelf behind her, and flicked through it until she found something. “I would like to ask you a few questions, Derek. I want you to answer with your own thoughts and feelings, not influenced by what you think I should hear, or what your friend might think or want to hear.”

Derek nodded. “Okay.”

“The first questions, I would like you to answer with how you have been feeling the past couple of weeks. If you could reply with whether you have felt it nearly every day, on more than half the days in those couple of weeks, just on some days, or not at all,” she told him, and then she started asking the same questions Derek and Andy had found on a site about depression a few nights before. Derek let out a shaky sigh before he started to reply. He had done this test online, and come out as severely depressed. He could see the doctor’s lips growing tighter as he answered ‘nearly every day’ for each question, until he told her that he had not had any suicidal thoughts and she relaxed almost immediately. It wasn’t completely true, but given that even if he had had the energy to act on them, they had only been fleeting notions, he and Andy had decided that the best thing would be not to mention them.

“Okay, it sounds like you have been suffering from a depressive episode, and given what you were telling me earlier, I have some more questions about what you experienced at the beginning of the school year.”

This, Derek hadn’t expected. His mouth dropped open a little, but he nodded.

“You can just answer these with yes or no,” she told him. She asked a string of questions, nearly all of which Derek, with barely any hesitation, answered yes to. “You were more interested in sex than usual?”

“Oh, no,” he said easily. She seemed a little surprised that he had actually answered negatively, but without pressing it, she moved onto the next question.

“Do you have any family history of bipolar disorder?”

Derek frowned. “Uh, I don’t know. I don’t think so?”

She smiled softly. “I will have to ring your parents for consent to prescribe you any medication, so I can ask them myself. Do you know what bipolar disorder is?”

Derek shrugged. “Like mood swings and stuff?”

“Not really. It is a mood disorder, but it does not ‘swing’ in the way people think. It is characterized by manic and depressive episodes. These can each last months, or for some people even years, and there are usually periods in between where you are not suffering any sort of episode, and these periods of normality can also last between months and years. The fact that it has only been a few months since your last manic episode may suggest rapid cycling, so I would like to get you on mood stabilizers as quickly as possible. Because of the nature of the disorder, I would also like to set up regular meetings with you.”

“With you? Not a therapist?” Andy asked in confusion.

“With Derek’s description of his feelings, I can be fairly certain bipolar is the correct diagnosis, but it will be easier to tell if anything else changes, or if the episodes of hallucination and dissociation worsen, if I am monitoring him myself. Those are psychotic symptoms, and while they are an aspect of mania for some people with bipolar, they may indicate another issue. Similarly, the fact that he reports no change in his sex drive—”

“He’s fifteen.”

“Which is exactly the age I would expect more fluctuation in interest in sex, whether combined with an affective disorder or not.”

“But he’s-”

It was as if something snapped inside Derek. “He’s right here,” he hissed. “Why does it matter if I don’t care about sex? Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing considering it’s not even legal for me to have sex yet. And I live at school. It would be kind of weird if I was attracted to anyone I live with, or wanting to masturbate or any of that shit.”

Andy was staring at him with a strange look on his face, now.

“Okay,” the doctor said softly, as if Derek was some fragile child who needed to be handled with gloves. “I have some booklets you can read for more information, and while you are looking at those, I will ring your parents and we can see about getting you on some medication, okay?”

Derek bristled, but nodded.

Andy came into his room that evening after dinner, while Derek was lying in bed, staring at the new pot of pills on his desk.

“Hey, there.”

Derek didn’t reply. He just shuffled across so that there was space for Andy to slide under the covers next to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“The same. A little confused. Totally overwhelmed. Like I should have cried by now but nothing’s happening.”

“It’s a lot.”

Derek wanted to scream at Andy that he had no idea. Instead, he pressed his lips together and turned his face into the pillow.

“I do have a question.”

“Yeah?”

Andy took a while to formulate what he wanted to ask. Derek almost started to drift off to sleep. “Were you serious? Have you never had a crush or anything on anyone here?”

“I’ve never had a crush on anyone. Except maybe in elementary school, this one girl, but I don’t think kid crushes count. I don’t want to think about people like that. Not here.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you can control how you feel about people.”

Derek frowned. He didn’t know what Andy meant, or where he was going with this.

“I just— Never mind.” They lay there in silence for a while. Finally, Andy seemed to decide he couldn’t let the topic drop. “Just most people do have crushes on other people at school. It’s normal. It wouldn’t be weird if you did.”

Something about the conversation set Derek on edge. It had already been a difficult day, and all he wanted to do was sleep. “But it is weird that I don’t. That’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it?”

“For God’s sake, stop being so sen—”

Andy cut himself off with an intake of breath. They stared at each other warily.

“Stop being so sensitive?”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t mean that. I know it’s been a horrible day. You have a right to be upset right now. It’s not a bad thing if you’re feeling a bit touchy, or if you don’t have any crushes, or if that never changes or anything. I’m not saying it’s weird. I’m just— I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

His eyes darted upwards, which Derek knew was a tic of Andy’s when he was lying. He bit his lip and rolled over. “I just want to sleep, okay? You can stay if you want, but I want to sleep.”

There was a soft sigh, and the brush of fingers over his hair before Andy settled his arm around Derek’s waist and they fell into silence.

[themindfulword]

PSYCHOLOGICAL & SPIRITUAL THERAPY: Love can't exist without suffering

In our weekly Psychological & Spiritual Therapy column, therapist Jack Surguy is offering professional advice to The Mindful Word readers for all those questions and problems you have wanted to discuss with someone qualified and caring. If you would like Jack to assist you in any areas of your life and relationships, fill out this form. He will respond to your questions through this column, normally published every Tuesday.

QUESTION

Hello, I've suffered from asthma for years and recently the situation has worsened. I get a lot of breathlessness, respiratory infections and sinus infections. Mine is a serious condition that requires steroid injections, analyzation, antibiotic pills and more. I'd welcome a spiritual understanding as to why this happens and what I should do to heal myself. Thanks, and blessings of light and love! Astar, 66, Israel

ANSWER

Hello Astar, Thank you for taking the time to send in your question. I'd just about completed a well thought-out, philosophical response when life shattered my comfort zone and reminded me once again that while life may be a mystery, suffering is much more apparent. I ask for your patience as I relate my experiences while also trying to address your question.

November 2015

On November 11, 2015, I received a call from my son at around 12:30 p.m. Ryan, my middle child and second son, was in school at this time so this call was out of the ordinary. I answered the phone and as soon as he spoke, I knew something was wrong. In a voice that I knew was holding back tears, Ryan told me that his best friend and training partner on the high school wrestling team had committed suicide that morning in the locker room. Levi Black was just 17 years old when he walked into the locker room of Shenandoah High School and hung himself. My son’s life, as well as the lives of Levi’s family, were radically changed in just a few passing moments. In fact, Levi’s older brother, Gary Black, was the wrestling coach and Levi’s father, Gary Black Sr., was the assistant coach. Gary Jr. was one of the first people to discover Levi. I dropped what I was doing and immediately drove to be with my son. Instead of allowing Ryan to leave with his friends to try and cope with the situation, I insisted that he and I spend some time together first. Ryan and I spent the next three hours talking by a nearby river. As we sat next to the stream, listening to the water gently pass by and feeling the cold wind blow its chill at times, Ryan began the long, arduous task of trying to wrap his young mind around the reality of death, loss, unfairness and life’s perplexing nature. Ryan was asked to be a pallbearer at Levi’s funeral—a request he felt honoured to fulfill. Ryan also spoke at the funeral, reading a revision of a letter that Ram Dass had written to the parents of a young girl who'd been murdered. The letter read, in part: Levi finished his work on earth, and left the stage in a manner that leaves those of us left behind with a cry of agony in our hearts, as the fragile thread of our faith is dealt with so violently. … I cannot ease your pain with any words, nor should I. For your pain is Levi’s legacy to you. Not that he or I would inflict such pain by choice, but there it is. And it must burn its purifying way to completion. For something in you dies when you bear the unbearable, and it is only in that dark night of the soul that you are prepared to see as God sees and to love as God loves. Our rational minds can never understand what has happened, but our hearts—if we keep them open to God—will find their own intuitive way. Levi had been struggling with some mental health issues for a while. He'd been seeing a counsellor and taking medications. His parents were doing all they knew how to do for Levi. He's still greatly missed.

This past week

Just this past week, as I went about my day, I was approached and informed that a student my older son, Brett, went to school with was found dead, having suffered from multiple gunshot wounds. Since I don't know this student’s family as well as I know the Blacks, I'll leave out identifying information. However, this young man was found dead in the street at around 4 a.m. To make matters even worse, I discovered that even though I live in a different town, Brett’s friend was killed less than a minute away from where I live. Once again, I found myself trying to help young people struggle with the reality of death, loss, unfairness and life’s perplexing nature.

Meet suffering with an open heart

In your question, you stated that you're seeking a spiritual understanding of why you suffer. To answer your question as honestly and sincerely as I'm able, I have to admit that I simply don't know. I'm able to provide you with reasons why I think people may suffer, but at the deepest level within me, I must acknowledge that my opinions are just speculations. They're speculations based on a life of studying psychology and religion and practicing meditation—but they're still speculations. Even more important, however, is the fact that when a loss hits you so hard that your breath is knocked out of you, and your entire life is suddenly transformed into a hell you barely recognize, the words used to try and convey these answers seem empty of meaning and provide little to no comfort. What I've found that does provide some sense of comfort and peace during difficult times is a practice Thich Nhat Hanh calls deep listening. Thich Nhat Hanh describes deep listening with the following: Deep listening is the kind of listening that can help relieve the suffering of another person. You can call it compassionate listening. You listen with only one purpose: to help him or her to empty his heart. Even if he says things that are full of wrong perceptions, full of bitterness, you are still capable of continuing to listen with compassion. Because you know that listening like that, you give that person a chance to suffer less. If you want to help him to correct his perception, you wait for another time. For now, you don’t interrupt. You don’t argue. If you do, he loses his chance. You just listen with compassion and help him to suffer less. One hour like that can bring transformation and healing. To be able to practice deep listening, we must also be willing to mindfully embrace our own pain and suffering in a compassionate way. Mindfulness isn't about sitting on a pillow and going away to a blissful place in the mind. To the contrary, mindfulness is about meeting suffering head-on, directly and with an open heart that's willing to feel the intense pangs that often accompany pain and loss. As I stated, I don't truly have an answer for you. However, I do believe that Thich Nhat Hanh has provided us with some excellent guidance based on his own mindful acceptance of pain and suffering. I’ll leave you with his words, for they're much wiser than my own: Love cannot exist without suffering. In fact, suffering is the ground on which love is born. If you have not suffered, if you don’t see the suffering of people or other living beings, you would not have love in you nor would you understand what it is to love. Without suffering, compassion, loving-kindness, tolerance, and understanding would not arise. Do you want to live in a place where there is no suffering? If you live in such a place, you will not be able to know what is love. Love is born from suffering. You know what suffering is. You don’t want to suffer, you don’t want to make other people suffer, and therefore you love is born. You want to be happy and you want to bring happiness to others. That is love. When suffering is there, it helps give birth to compassion. We need to touch suffering in order for our compassion to be born and to be nourished. That is why suffering plays such an important role even down here in paradise. We are already here in some sort of paradise surrounded by love, but there is still jealousy, hatred, anger, and suffering around us and inside of us. It is because we are struggling to free ourselves from the grip of suffering and affliction that we learn how to love and how to take care of ourselves and of others, not to inflict on others more suffering and misunderstanding. Love is a practice and unless you know what suffering is, you are not motivated to practice compassion, love, and understanding. I would not be willing to go to a place where there is no suffering because I know that living in such a place I would not experience love. Because I suffer, I need love. Because you suffer, you need love. Because we suffer, we know that we have to offer each other love and love becomes a practice. image: Suffering in silence by exezippdf via Flickr (CC BY 2.0) Click to Post

[oliverwithoutthetwist]

Physical and Mental - agony - (warning: suicidal thoughts)

Hello again, my for all eternity deserted friend

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This post will be long as hell and (WARNING) it includes various depression filled and suicidal thoughts

Topics: Current appearance . Others’ perception . Romance. Agony . Physical pain . Suicidal Ideation . Loneliness . Family

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1- Mirror Selfie above

Torso- This was the first time I found a mirror that allowed me to capture more than just the face (in a way that everything is sort of visible and I’m not just a faraway being). The legs are not present but I’ll find a way to reveal them along side the rest of my prison-like body somehow. I want to have everything clear on record.

Face- My features here reveal the facial expression I tend to make when anxious and paranoid. Note: Currently, I’m always anxious and paranoid when I leave my flat, afraid of being “discovered” as a “fraud”. Continuing, after analyzing the image, I now understand why strangers see me as a lost child. Imagine the person in the pic above being 5ft (my embarrassing height) and standing uncomfortably on the underground station platform. Yes...

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2- Agonizing reality

12 year old look- Yes, I do look like a 12(hope not less)-14 (at max) boy when walking alone down the street. And, let me tell you, this thing of looking like a child was sort of fun at first but, now, it has proven to be a struggle. 

The stares- I can’t drink or smoke in public comfortably like i used to. People glare now, whisper between themselves, laugh and sometimes comment (rather loudly) when seeing me engage in adult behaviors, behaviors that merely consist in me hanging out with my young adult friends. “Adult” like me.

Romance- The universe, currently, does not allow me to be with anyone romantically. A bloke my age, or even 5 years younger, would automatically pass as a pedophile if he did has much as hold my hand with other people around. No 20 something year old wants to be seen as a pervert, someone who wishes to #!% little children. This is indeed understandable, I wouldn’t want to be perceived as that as well. 

Pedophiles- 50plus year old repulsive men are the only ones who seem to want to (or actually do so) approach me with the intent of having “sexual relations”. With me, the lost and innocent looking young boy. I never knew this to be so common. It’s terrifying.

Nighttime stroll- I used to sometimes enjoy walking back towards my flat instead of taking the tube, especially when the moon is high. I don’t do that anymore though. It has become dangerous. The reasons: 1- Looking as young as I do, and being in the street alone after the sun sets,  I am now the perfect and rather easy to capture prey for the so called “pedo” to attack. 2- I’ve been called a “faggot” two times now (note: my gay friends have never been insulted like that). “I guess” no “straight” young teen dresses like I do so I am, automatically to the ignorant human, a miniature “roostersucker” and this can actually lead to a group of neanderthals beating the shit out of me. When having that appearance, a person is indeed an easy target. Note: I actually live in, what’s considered to be, a safe country. These things still happen though and not that rarely. 3 (worse scenario)- Ok. Imagine this: there I go, down the street, no sunlight, looking like a young boy when suddenly a breeze opens my loose fitting jacket to reveal a previously hidden female body. Just a quick look and I’m suddenly discovered by a transphobe as a “fake” male, a “freak”, a trans person. This is horrifying. I’ve read/know of testimonies by trans blokes (mostly pre-t) who were beat up rather violently or/and raped with the excuse of it being an attempt to help them, to cure their “disease”.

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I’m in hell

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3- Suicidal Ideation has returned

Lately, I keep thinking about the various boxes of prescription pills that are hidden in my wardrobe. 

Swallowing, about 5 by 5, of my rather strong anti-depressants until there’s nothing left. And then, adding to the mix, my mood stabilizers. 

This is sure to provoke an effect on the body.

Short story- Before coming out, and after I started meds,  I went on a google quest to know how many boxes of pills (the specific ones I take) would kill me. I still have, in my macbook, a document that holds that information. 

The ultimate swallowing of all my anti-depressant and mood stabilizers has yet to happen though. I like to plan things, to make sure I’ll be successful while doing them, so I did my research and found cases of people who tried suicide by prescription drugs and ended up not being able to perform the simplest of tasks and requiring the assistance of others to go through life, their body and movement ability destroyed. When reading this, I became terrified of surviving the attempt and not even being physically able to repeat it. The body that has brought me so much misery over the years would become not only the prison that has always been but also a bloody straight jacket. And this would be my life, until fate decided its end. 

Short fact- Before coming out (early October), after years of research, I had finally found a flawless way of suicide (an “exotic” and not well known way). The Holy Grail. I will not reveal what it is. I don’t wish for anyone to find it and swallow "the thing” because of me and the information I have provided here. That being said, this “thing” was being sold on a website (for other purposes, so completely legal) but it was temporarily unavailable. You had the option of sending them your email in order to receive a notice when “the thing” was back in stock. I did that and I did receive a message. It was at the end of November that they announced its availability. I deleted this announcement. Curiously enough, I had just come out and, for the first time, I was excited to be alive and to see what the future would bring. 

The excitement has now vanished. Reality has hit. I used to be fully accepted when I was hidden inside the character I had created as means of survival, a fake individual who caused me excruciating pain. Years of self harm accompanied me through out. Quick note: I will, later on, share my experience on the subject. Continuing, hiding misery did in fact provide me with being accepted by others. I’m not saying my friends (for example) are transphobic. What I’m saying is that real life, in its total, is a lot harder now. But I will not go back to how it was before. I can’t do it. No way. Even, going out of the flat without a binder makes me feel so anxious that my breathing stops working properly. Yes, going back is not an option at this point.

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4- Physical pain

Binder- I’ve recently shared here the physical pain I’ve been experiencing due to overwearing my binder. The chest area does not hurt but my back does, a lot. The pain is so bad that I’m only able to sleep due to extreme exhaustion. I might be tired but my back will keep me awake until, hours later, I simply pass out. I’ve been experiencing this for over a week now. Sometimes it goes away and I think it’s over but it comes back and is horrible.

Heavy head and lost of balance- I have a lot of important and unavoidable things to take care of at the moment. I’m bloody anxious as hell. I have ADHD, which makes this all outstandingly overwhelming and confusing. I’m trying to keep myself focused and I don’t take any meds for it. After my diagnose, I chose not to (I was taking 4 pills a day at the time and didn’t want to add more to my daily breakfast routine). . . . All this to say that, today, my head suddenly turned heavy. It’s difficult to describe actually. Let me try. Imagine your head being somehow pulled by a strong rubber band. That’s it, that’s how I can describe it. I apologize, I can’t find better words for it. But yes, the “heavy sensation” made me believe my head was tilted to the left without my control when, in fact, it was straight. This belief made me experience difficulty with walking. All day, I had to concentrate really hard in order to not appear drunk or high. I’ve heard of this before, this happening due to anxiety, but I had never experienced it first hand. 

Panic attack- Adding to all this, I had a day filled with sudden issues! 1-I opened a new bank account with my new ID but, due to an error, the guy found out my name used to be *insert birth name here* and stopped referring to me as “son” and started treating me as “miss”, even though my ID says MALE. 2-Again, stares and laughs at the little boy who thinks he’s all grown up. 3-Pain and lost of balance 4-Panic attack (a strong as shit one). 5-My friends are suddenly not open to let me share my troubles (these are the people who have always criticized me for not talking to them about my personal issues). Ex: friend: “Are you ok?”, me “uh... not really. I just had a panic attack and basically spent the last hour attempting to breathe, screaming and sobbing”, friend: “...”, friend 2: “This is the best chicken ever. Oh! I have a new crush.” 6- I left my ID inside a taxi. The taxi driver was horrible to me the whole trip. When I went to pay, I gave him money and told him he didn’t have to give me the change. Due to the head heaviness thingy, I was desperate to go to my room and lie down. The thing is: I was so confused with my surroundings, that I let my wallet fall when I got up to leave. I was quick to notice I had left it there though. I shouted in despair towards the guy, telling him “wait!”. He actually noticed me but still drove off. I tried to run and place myself in front of the car to force him to stop but failed to do so. The driver left with my wallet. I thought I had been saved when my landlord and neighbor called me. I looked to see him looking through his window and, after noticing my attempt to reach the taxi, he memorized the license plate. I was saved! Not. I called all my city’s taxi companies and the guy’s car didn’t belong to any of them. They said he must be an independent taxi driver. He’s registered though, his car had everything to be official. There’s a company that controls all of it but they did not pick up my phone call. I had to send an email. So, my ID is basically gone (the ID I spent extra money so I could have it as quickly as possible, the ID I went to pick up yesterday, the ID that made me almost cry from joy and relief). If they do reply and contact the driver, he will probably deny having the wallet. It’s not because of money, I didn’t have any, only enough for the taxi drive. He didn’t have anything to steal. The bank card inside was old and had already been canceled. I only need my ID! My precious baby! The driver treated me like shit, he’s not going to be kind enough to report the missing item. He probably just threw it away. Where I live, that’s actually a crime. You have 7 days to report a lost ID. He can always say another passenger took it. . . Right! My baby is gone and I can’t do things grown ups do anymore. 7- Oh yes, my macbook charger suddenly broke and it’s expensive as hell. FMbloodyL

Anyway...

Status: I’m uncomfortable as hell! I’m a mess, mentally and physically. This day was... so many things... It’s surreal! 

.

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5- Loneliness

I started this blog as a way to make a record of my transition. I was hoping (and still sort of am) for, one day, to look at it again and see all the steps it took in order to achieve my life changing transformation and personal accomplishments. 

Not only that, it was also something for my friends to check from time to time so they could understand my situation a bit better and accompany me when I leave this city (not long now). They were actually the ones who asked excitedly if they could follow me. Yet, they did not. I don’t think they ever even visited the link I gave them. 

Another thing I thought would be nice was chatting with other fellow transgenders and share deep thoughts or just have a nice chat. This didn’t happen though. I sent some messages to tumblr bloggers I found to be interesting. They answered me, very nicely. But they ended up ignoring the message I sent afterwards. I swear to the bloody stars that I wasn’t offensive in any way. 

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6- Parents

My parents (and brother) still don’t know

They’re blind as hell 

They care

They just don’t see 

They’ve always pushed aside the emotional aspects of life

They’re good people

But they simply prefer to ignore deeper issues 

It’s not their fault

It’s how they were raised

And, consequently, it’s how I was raised too

It’s how I learned to also ignore those issues and live in bloody agony all this time

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Conclusion:

I’m alone

[penguinghostwriter-blog]

Mania and Suicidal Thoughts: Part One, An Understanding

To quote a favored blog post of an internet stranger "Yes, I'm suicidal and no, it's not what you think. As I see it, there’s some gray area in being suicidal. It’s not just black and white like a lot of people assume." - Rebecca Lynn Clark

I received a lot of feedback when re-posting this article, and said that I would write one of my own. In order to fully comprehend something, we must first understand it. So here it is: Yes, I'm suicidal. Always have been, always will be. But no, it's not what you think. Rebecca and I hold one very stark difference: She does not have a plan. I do. I have for some time now. Two people in this world know the plan - one of which is my therapist, the other, a very good friend. When the plan was constructed as a result of Lexapro's side-effect "suicidal thoughts," in a frenzied fear I told this friend on my birthday, of all days, every detail of the plan. I'll never forget the way his piercing blue eyes looked at me that day. And the words he said:

"Only you could take suicide and make it such a selfless thing."

We had a good laugh about that. He quickly amended, "Well don't do it, because I would be really fucking bummed if you did."

Without going into detail, the plan has always been weirdly unselfish. I'm not going to dive into the politics of whether suicide is selfish or not - everyone has their own view on things. It's not the point of this post. The plan, my plan, has its t's crossed and its i's dotted - no detail left missed. The irony and benefits of being a writer - nothing goes without detail. No mess, no cleanup, no second-guessing, no 'why did she do it,' no leaving any affairs unattended, no return engagements, and done in a way that would benefit ecologically. So yes, I'm suicidal, and yes, I have a plan. But before you reach for the phone, hear me out. We'll touch upon some psychological facts and readings, then get into the truth. My truth.

Before we deep-dive into this, we need to recognize a few factors at play:

Mania - "What is a manic episode? A manic episode is not a disorder in and of itself, but rather is diagnosed as a part of a condition called bipolar disorder.

A manic episode is a mood state characterized by period of at least one week where an elevated, expansive, or unusually irritable mood exists. A person experiencing a manic episode is usually engaged in significant goal-directed activity beyond their normal activities. People describe a manic mood as feeling very euphoric, “on top of the world,” and being able to do or accomplish anything. The feeling is like extreme optimism — but on steroids." - PsychCentral

Hypomania - It's worth noting here that due to my condition, I'm inflicted with a lesser mania (despite its name) called hypomania. "Hypomania is a less severe form of mania. In a hypomanic state, you’ll likely feel euphoric, energetic, and productive, but will still be able to carry on with your day-to-day life without losing touch with reality. To others, it may seem as if you’re merely in an unusually good mood. However, hypomania can result in bad decisions that harm your relationships, career, and reputation. In addition, hypomania often escalates to full-blown mania or is followed by a major depressive episode." - HelpGuide

Hypomanic Obsession - In my research prior to this post, I found someone who endures the same afflictions that I do. "Bipolar disorder is recognized by mania, depression and usually anxiety. One area of bipolar not usually talked about is obsessive thoughts and behavior. [...] The obsession comes with balance and/or mania or hypomania. We have energy and are doing things. Hopefully we are accomplishing things that need to be done. But then there is trouble.

One thing we are doing makes us feel good at first. Since it feels good we want to do more of it. Soon we are thinking of nothing else. Our normal daily activities get left by the wayside and soon all we are thinking about is the one thing we want to do.

From here it is not pretty. We think about it when we go to bed. Obsessing about it at night keeps us from falling asleep. We wake up tired and thinking about our obsession in the morning. We know there are other things that need to be done at home, at work and with friends and family. We try to think about these things. But our minds keep going back to the obsession." - Dave Mowry for BPHope.

Anxiety - "Behaving in an apprehensive manner (worried, fretful, fearful, nervous) causes the body to activate the stress response, which causes the body to secrete stress hormones into the bloodstream where they travel to targeted spots in the body to bring about specific physiological, psychological, and emotional changes that enhance the body’s ability to deal with a threat—to either fight with or flee from it—which is the reason this response is often referred to as the fight or flight response or the emergency response. You feel a sudden and unexplainable urge to escape, run away, or depart the situation, circumstance, or environment you are currently in as fast as you can. This sudden urge to escape or run away feeling can range in intensity from slight, to moderate, to severe. It can also come in waves, where it’s strong one moment and eases off the next.

This sudden urge to escape or run away feeling can change from day to day, and/or from moment to moment." - AnxietyCentre

I'm blessed enough to say that I have several resources in the psychological industry. Sometimes having a sounding board is the best resource one can have. In a recent discussion, we tapped into all the above - and why suicide would always be an option.

The moment one is diagnosed with any sort of lifetime illness, it's a bitter pill to swallow. Imagine someone looking you dead in the eye and telling you that what you're feeling will never stop. It will be a fight every single day for the rest of your life. There are things you can do to stop the pain, but they are only band-aids to a permanent facet. You'll spend the rest of your life using different band-aids. They'll work for a little while, but it's inevitable: eventually it will stop working, and you will need to start all over in finding a new fix.

Every day will be a new fight. You will never know a day without struggle. But here's the soundboard response on that: everyone, mental illness or not, is going through a struggle. Our fights look different, but at the end of the day: we're all fighting something, every day, trying to better ourselves. You'll have good days, and bad ones, and sometimes it will feel like the bad outweighs the good. On the flip side of it, the bad days will always make the good days feel so much better.

Recently, that realization came to the forefront for me: I will never know a day without struggle. I only know three other people who are afflicted with what I am, and they're still struggling. Combining the four factors above, I became hypomanically-induced obsessed. It will never get better. My own mortality was looking me in the face. How much longer do I have? When should I end it? Should I write my last will and testament now? How would I send out my final words to everyone? Should I do it post-mortem? Or prior, and risk someone getting my "goodbye" before I even left?

By now, you might be wondering why. These thoughts kept me up all hours of the night, and all hours of the day. Yet, when someone would I ask, I would say I was okay. My anxiety was out of control, but that's nothing new: so I truly was okay. If you read the above, anxiety instills in you a constant "fight or flight" reflex. What other permanent escape is there but to leave this earth entirely? As foreign as this may sound to you, the sounding board I mentioned confirmed: this is perfectly normal. Well, normal as I ever could be, that is. Suicide will always be an option because it's the ultimate escape from life. It's the ultimate flight. One you'll never come back from. In that context, it sounds like freedom. When you're trapped inside your own mind, any freedom sounds like the ultimate bliss.

Someone close to me even offered to help me travel somewhere. I considered it for a time, knowing that doing so would only put me in more debt. But the chance to escape, even for a little while, was enticing like a moth sees a flame. Nevertheless, I was conscious enough to decline. Both for the sake of my bank account, and with the realization: no matter how far I run, or for how long, I will always have to come back to these same struggles. There is no real escape. It's just another band-aid.

I had a realization when discussing all of the above with one of my psychologically-educated colleagues: Sometimes things do not make sense to you until you're forced to explain them to someone else. That's what this blog is, me explaining to anyone who feels like listening. People hear the word 'suicide' and immediately go on high-alert: with good reason. But we need to recognize that it's much more common than anyone talks about. I'm only one person, but I'll help remove the stigma: it's okay that you feel this way. We need to talk about these things if we want to fix them. I'm lucky to have a very strong support group who reach out to me the moment they realize something is off. Not everyone has that - and I feel lonely even knowing they're there. I remember a time when I didn't have this support system, and how lonely I felt then. So if you're reading this and can relate to what I'm talking about: you're not alone. I know. I understand. I hear you. I'm listening. There are many people in this world who will also listen. They're few and far between, but I promise you that they exist.

If suicide is always an option, what do we do now?

I love that question.

"What are you going to do now?"

Everyone has a different answer to that question. Some have their lives planned out, some don't even know what they're going to do in the next hour. I fall finely in the middle of that scale.

Today, I choose to live. Is it easy? No. But is that the right question to ask? Also no. I understand that I'll continue to have good days and bad days, and that will never end. I understand that everyone experiences this. So that's what I'm going to do now: take things day by day. Today was not a very good day, so I've redirected my attention to making this blog instead. That's the key to stopping hypomania and the obsessions that come with it: distract, and redirect. Tomorrow is a brand new day. I'll still have the same problems, but who knows: perhaps tomorrow I'll have a strength I didn't have today. I'll never know if I don't make it through the rest of the day.

That's what keeps me going most days. The hope for a better tomorrow.

It's a hard pill to swallow, but it's a fact: with the rates of mental illness these days, suicide is and always will be an option. The trick is to make it the very last option, and to put every other option before it. Take it day by day.

I'll see you tomorrow.

If you or a loved one is experiencing any of the above, or you are concerned for their health, here are some resources for you. The first step to anything is to raise awareness. Together, we can end stigma. Let's talk:

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline - 1-800-273-8255

Help Someone Else

Suicide Prevention Resource Center

National Institute of Mental Health - Suicide Prevention

To find local resources in your area, visit To Write Love On Her Arms.

Afraid to talk? It's okay - just text. You can reach the Crisis Text Line 24/7 by texting “START” to 741-741.

For additional resources, see the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention and SAVE (Suicide Awareness Voices of Education).

Provided by The Mighty: you can read the following stories from people who’ve been there:

If You Feel Like You’re ‘Losing’ to Your Mental Illness, This Is Your Reason to Stay

For When Your Only Thought Is Suicide

The Difference Between Wanting to Die and Wanting the Pain to Stop

Dear Suicidal You

[media-valtimes]

DON’T COMPARE APPLES TO ORANGES

My opinion on adaptations has changed over the years. I think this is because I’ve grown to love film just as much as I love literature. As a kid, I read books from all the big teen franchises, like The Twilight Saga, The Hunger Games, Mortal Instruments, Divergent, Maze Runner, you get the picture. 

(I know, Twilight???? Seriously???)

My friends and I were always so excited for the new adaptation to hit theatres, but every time after the lights came back on, we were in one way or another disappointed. 

“How could they change that detail?” 

“How could they cut out that character?” 

“What? That never happened in the book!”

These are all things that would likely come out of our mouths after seeing the newest must-see-book-to-movie-adaptation. I was always so mad that the movie wasn’t exactly like the book that I loved so much. 

As time has gone on, I now wonder why I would ever pay money to see a movie I hoped would be identical to a book I’ve already read. In a way, in reading a book, you already get to watch the movie version, except it’s playing in your head. When I see an adaptation now, I go in wondering what the filmmakers interpreted differently that I did. What did they think was important? What characters really impact the story? Going in with an open mind has made the process much more enjoyable for me.

Of course, I still think that the major conflict and plot points should stay the same, but everything else is fair game. With major franchises and teen sagas, it’s more difficult to have full creative control, because if one too many things are changed there could be major backlash from loyal fans, but I still think that filmmakers should be able to recreate the story in their own vision. 

CALL ME BY YOUR NAME

Call Me By Your Name (2017) is a movie that I watched recently, that was beautifully adapted from a book of the same name by André Aciman. I haven’t yet read the novel, but the movie has stuck with me since I watched it almost 3 weeks ago. The movie was nominated for 4 Oscars and won the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay. With this critical success, I was curious as to whether the author was happy with how the movie turned out or not. I found an article of an interview the author did with Vanity Fair, where he described his thought on the adaptation. He had this to say of his first arrival on the movie set:

“Right away, I knew that very little in the film would correspond to my novel and, like any author, was wistfully resigned to watching my story morph under someone else’s vision.”

I’m sure any author would be a little bit apprehensive at the thought of someone else interpreting their work and presenting it in their own vision, but at the same time, it’s so interesting that someone can tell the same story in a completely different way. 

Even though Aciman was watching from the sidelines, noticing every detail different than what he first imagined, he saw the beauty of film in front of him.

“For me, the message was clear: film cuts and trims with savage brevity, where a shrug or an intercepted glance or a nervous pause between two words can lay bare the heart in ways written prose is far more nuanced and needs more time and space on the page. But the thing is, I couldn’t write silence. I couldn’t measure pauses and breaths and the most elusive yet expressive body language.”

There are so many things that you can do in film that you just can’t do in a novel, and the author realized that. Although many things were different from the film to the novel, particularly the final scene, Aciman knew that these were still his characters, and the themes of his story were still being expressed, just in a different way than he originally imagined. 

“I recall that when discussing his plans for the film, Guadagnino had told me that he would end the film with a shot of young Elio weeping before the camera. My heart sank. This was not at all what I had envisaged for the ending. The last  pages of my novel sought to capture the lovers 20 years later as they reconnect and tell each other that, despite the years, they’ve forgotten nothing. When I finally saw the film at the Berlin International Film festival, I was stunned. The ending captured the very spirit of the novel I had written in ways that I could never have imagined or anticipated, and as for the music, it resonated with the love of the two young men, so much so that the final scene with Elio and Sufjan’s song stayed with me long, long after I walked out of the movie theater and, as happens so rarely, into the next morning and the evening after that.”

Above is that final scene. If you haven’t seen the movie sorry for the spoiler but this scene was utterly heartbreaking. It encompasses the feelings of loss and isolation that everyone feels at some point in their life, and when watching this scene those familiar feelings come rushing back.

Although the film is different from the novel, the beauty of both can be appreciated. Just as the other said there are things that you can do in film that don’t translate to literature. You can’t write silence. On the flip side, there are things you can do in writing that you can’t in film. You can’t hear the voice of the narrator throughout the whole movie, and all of their innermost thoughts. Sure there’s voice overs and POV shots, but those aren’t the same as seeing everything from one character’s eyes.

13 REASONS WHY

The second adaptation I want to talk about is the TV series 13 Reasons Why (2017). While very controversial even to this day, as we approach the release of the second season, this series made a very large impact on the world for a while, and it was all based on the novel written by Jay Asher. I read this book at some time in elementary school, and while it was pretty devastating to read, I forgot about it not too long after. The book didn’t have a lasting impact on me, and I forgot all about Hannah Baker’s story until the announcement that it was being made into a Netflix Original Series. 

In the series the audience is able to see a lot more of the other characters, other than just Clay and Hannah. They get to know the motivations of other characters and why they do the terrible things that they do. In presenting the story this way the audience is able to see how Hannah’s suicide impacts everyone, and not just her and Clay. I think that this portrayal is more honest. In reality, even the people who hate your guts would be impacted severely by your absence. I also think that it is much harder to watch the series than it is to read the book. Seeing these graphic scenes has a certain impact that I don’t know is possible to achieve in writing. 

The opposite of the norm is true to in this adaptation. There seems to be so much more detail in the series than the book. We get to see so much more depth in the secondary characters than ever is described in the book. Lots of extra things happen in the show that don’t happen in the book which, again, has a greater impact on audiences. One of the most controversial scenes in the show, Hannah’s suicide scene, never even happened in the book. In the novel, Hannah commits suicide by swallowing pills, but in the series, Hannah is instead graphically shown putting a razor to her arms, bleeding out in the bathtub. The series also shows more of what happens to the other characters after Hannah’s suicide, and its repercussions. Such as another character’s suicide attempt, another contemplating a school shooting from being bullied relentlessly about his part in Hannah’s suicide, etc. This interpretation brings even more taboo issues into the show, and allowed for it to spark an even larger discussion after its release. 

The show made waves. While the show never would’ve been made if not for the novel, the series surpasses the novel in so many ways. The author of the book is very proud of the series and has no anger toward the producers for changing details, as he understands that it took his words to a whole new level, and allowed for the story to reach a much larger audience.

While I did the very thing I said not to do, and compared the book to the adaptation, I wanted to show that they are different enough that they can be considered as separate from each other. They can be enjoyed separately. They both shine in different ways, and it is possible to respect the creators of both for their storytelling methods.

THE SHINING

Finally, what we all came for, The Shining (1980). 

At this point it’s pretty much common knowledge that Stephen King hated this adaptation when it was released. It can be assumed that this is because it is so different from his original novel. I have never read the novel, but in reading up on the topic I see why King may be angry at the adaptation of his piece. I read in an article that “Kubrick’s movie is less an adaptation and more of an interpretation,” and I would agree with that statement. I honestly think that’s the way that it should be. Why would you want to see a film with the exact same characters, doing the exact same things, wrapping up in the exact same way. 

Kubrick changed the characters in a way that would be more suitable for film and the time constraint associated with it. In the novel, the reader is able to see Jack Torrance’s soft side, and the part of him that doesn’t want to succumb to his addiction. He has more redeeming qualities in the novel, but I think that Kubrick wanted a physical villain and an antagonist other than the hotel itself. He wanted the audience to loathe Jack Torrance and be uneasy at the sight of him from the beginning of the movie. In doing this, every time Jack is around another character the audience wonders if he’s going to finally snap. The movie wouldn’t be as scary if we weren’t equally as scared of Jack as we are the hotel. 

A famous changed detail from the book to the movie is the ending. In King’s version, the hotel is burned down, but in Kubrick’s it freezes. Again, I think that this contributes to the horror of the movie. If the hotel burns down it is sending a message that the scary times are over, it’ll all be okay, the bad thing is gone, but in Jack freezing instead, the threat is still lurking, capable of thawing and wreaking havoc once again. This works for the film medium, but for a novel the readers might want something more conclusive. Of course the inconclusive ending does follow Kubrick’s style, as it is another question left unanswered at the end of the film. Both the burning and freezing of the Overlook Hotel make for a great ending, and they can both be respected by readers and audiences alike.

King and Kubrick are both artists, and nobody should try to say that one’s version of the story is better. They are simply different interpretations of the same characters, each story horrifying in its own way. They can be enjoyed as separate entities, and I think that’s what most filmmakers hope for when releasing a movie. They want it to be their work just as much as the original author’s.

WRAPPING UP

Books and movies (and television for that matter) are completely different mediums, and adaptations shouldn’t be ridiculed for every single detail that is different from what happened in the book. I think that when making an adaptation the novel should be your general outline, but you can jump off and explore new ideas from there. If you don’t want your favourite book to be wrecked by an adaptation then perhaps you should go in with an open mind, and be willing to see the story told from a new perspective. If you can’t do that then it might be better not to see adapted screenplays at all. Respect what authors do with their own characters, and respect what filmmakers make their characters do differently. It’s all art, people. 

[julybrown]

Case Study #112-47B

I wrote this short story about a year ago. It’s a little spooky. Enjoy!

Case Report #112-47B

“The best safeguard against abuses in the future is a complete public accounting of the abuses of the past” - Senator Edward Kennedy at the 1979 Congressional Hearing regarding MKULTRA, The CIA’s Program in Behavioral Modification

~

“Gruesome Murder/Suicide in Harbrook County

Quiet Harbrook County was thrown into chaos Sunday afternoon when Dan Patina, noticing their absence from Sunday service, knocked on the door of his neighbors, Jerome and Patty Martens. When they failed to answer, Mr. Patina let himself in (he later told police he often watered the Martens plants when they were away, and knew where they hid a spare key). What he found inside was a haunting sight, one he could only describe as ‘unthinkable.’ Blood was streaked and splattered across the walls, staining the carpets, filling the air with an iron scent. The Sheriff's deputy who was first to arrive said he had ‘never seen anything like it.’ Patty Martens’ body was found, face down, in front of the stairs. The cause of death was obvious: her body was littered with cuts, some deep, some shallow. Her husband was found moments after, sitting in the kitchen, a grim smile on his face, and a large knife sticking out of his chest. State police were quickly dispatched to the scene, where they determined that Mr. Martens chased his wife with the knife, killed her, and then himself. Neither individual had any history of mental illness, violent behavior, or criminal activity. Their friends and neighbors are reeling from this horrific loss. ‘Jerome and Pat were honest, hard-working, and faithful, full of love and life,’ their pastor, Robert Parsimony, wrote in a statement. He echoed the words of Mr. Patina, saying ‘the idea that Jerome could be capable of such a cruel act is unthinkable.’ He also invited the community to come to his church, to pray for the Martens’ souls and to root out ‘the blight in our town’”

To: REDACTED

From: kb29@REDACTED

Subject: UPDATE

Sent: Sunday, 8/12/16, 2:53 PM

Subject J. Martens and subject P. Martens found dead by subject D. Patina. J killed P, then himself. Local PD alerted immediately, state troopers imminent. As of writing, forensics still on scene. Media presence unknown. Agent CF and I implementing damage control by your direction. Protocol 00 authorized?

Agent out

To: kb29@REDACTED

From: REDACTED

Subject: Re: UPDATE

Sent: Sunday, 8/12/16, 2:57 PM

Protocol 00 NOT authorized. Agents on ground are only authorized basic clean up. Husband was deranged, killed wife in fit of rage. Make sure that is the story. Keep it small. Stay quiet. Make this go away. Do not implement any protocols without express authorization from this office. Resume normal operations ASAP.

To: Sheriff John Cowley [johncowley@gmail.com]

From: Lieutenant Mark Maxwell [mm739@oklahoma.gov]

Subject: ME Report

Sent: Monday, 8/13/16, 4:42 PM

Sheriff,

The medical examiner has completed her autopsy of both Mr and Mrs Martens. Toxicology came back with traces of LSD in both husband and wife. We need some local insight. Do you get much acid there in Harbrook?

And, Sheriff, I know you have mixed feelings about us staties getting involved in delicate local events, but we will be as respectful as possible, and we want to work with you, supposing you’ll work with us.

To: Lieutenant Mark Maxwell [mm739@oklahoma.gov]

From: Sheriff John Cowley [johncowley@gmail.com]

Subject: Re: ME Report

Sent: Monday, 8/13/16. 5:03 PM

Mark,

We got some kids playing around with junk like that, every so often we even nab one dealing. But most seems to come from the city, and even then it’s rare. More often it’s pot and pills, we don’t get much of the exotic stuff down here. Can’t imagine Pat and Jerry ever did that. But I guess there’s a lot about them I didn’t know.

I appreciate the effort to include me, Lieutenant, but I still think the state brings too much media. Can you do something about those damn reporters?

“Religious Sighting in Harbrook?

Ethel Murszt, septuagenarian and volunteer teacher, was brought to the hospital early Tuesday, after an incident wherein she walked naked through the streets, loudly proclaiming that God had spoken to her in a vision. Ms. Murszt is regarded as a pillar of the community, working with troubled youth in the afternoons and teaching Sunday school. Friends and neighbors say that she’s never been known to have any trouble with dementia, and the consensus seems to be that she must have been shaken by the recent troublesome events in Harbrook. Ms. Murszt is at St. Ignacious Hospital and in stable condition, although it is unclear how long she will need to be hospitalized.”

To: kb29@REDACTED, cf47@REDACTED

From: REDACTED

Subject: URGENT

Sent: Tuesday, 8/14/16, 9:27 AM

State MEs found LSD in J. Martens and P. Martens. State and local PD both know. More troubling still is E. Murszt. Create an explanation for this NOW or we are compromised. Protocol 00 still not authorized.

Transcript of telephone call placed between NUMBER UNKNOWN and Harbrook County Sheriff’s Office, Tuesday, 8/14/16, 5:53 PM

Sheriff’s Office: Hello, this is the Sheriff’s office, Pete speaking, how may I help you?

Number unknown: Hi, I’d like to report an anonymous tip.

SO: Alright... [paper shuffling] And what’s your name?

[silence]

SO: Right, sorry, anonymous. What would you like to tell us?

NU: I think a boy at school is dealing drugs.

SO: His name?

NU: Kyle Delancey.

SO: Kyle Delancey. Yeah, I know him. Wouldn’t be surprised, to be honest. Well, what makes you think he’s dealing?

NU: He said he could get me acid if I wanted.

SO: Acid? You’re certain he said acid, like LSD?

NU: Yeah, that’s what he said.

SO: Well, thank you very much, ma’am, you’ve done-

NU: He said if I wanted it, I should meet him in the Denny’s parking lot tonight at ten.

SO: Is that the Denny’s by the highway or by the mall?

NU: The mall.

SO: Alright. [writing sounds] Thank you for your tip, ma’am. You can- [click] Ma’am?

“Police Bulletin

Harbrook County and residing townships

Tues., 8/14/16. Kyle Delancey arrested for possession of illegal narcotics by Crescent Hill Mall. Police reportedly found a large, unspecified amount of LSD in his vehicle. Kyle is a local high school student. It is believed he was selling the narcotics.”

Transcript of police questioning of suspect Kyle Delancey

Tuesday, 8/14/16, 10:56 PM

Mark Maxwell: -lright, we’re recording. I’ve read Mr. Delancey his rights already, let’s just shoot off a quick role call for the recording. I am Lieutenant Mark Maxwell, with me is Harbrook County Sheriff John Cowley.

Sheriff Cowley: Hello

MM: Kyle’s lawyer, Linda Moderno.

Linda Moderno: Present. I can attest to my client’s hospitable treatment.

MM: Thank you, Miss Moderno, we do our best. And of course, Kyle Delancey himself.

[silence]

MM: Kyle, would you please introduce yourself?

Kyle Delancey: Hi.

MM: Very good. John, would you please read off the charges.

SC: Possession of illegal narcotics, possession with intent to sell, sale of narcotics, being a general pain in my ass, and potential connection with other criminal activities and entities.

MM: Thank you, John. Now, this will all be very easy, Kyle. You’ll tell us where you got the acid and who you’re working for, and we’re prepared to only charge you with possession. You’ll be out in two to five.

KD: But I told you already, it wasn’t mine.

SC: Come on, Kyle, everyone knows what you’re up to. I would have brought you in myself if I’d known that it was more than just pot.

KD: That’s all it was.

MM: So why was your trunk, and your backpack, full of LSD?

KD: I don’t know. I think I’m being framed.

SC: [laughs]

MM: Kyle, listen, No one cares about your youthful indiscretions. Pot, your momma’s pills, even if this were just a few tabs, we’d let it slide. Slap you on the wrist and send you on your way. But this? [paper shuffling] That was about one hundred tabs of LSD. The lab hasn’t finished its work but they say it’s good stuff too. This is major league activity. We know this didn’t come from Harbrook.

SC: No sir.

MM: So where’s it from?

KD: I’m telling you, I don’t know!

MM: [sighs]

LM: I think I’d like a minute alone with my client.

MM: I think you need it. Come on, John, I need a cup of coffee. Where’s the pause button on this thing?

SC: You two need anything from the vending ma-

To: REDACTED

From: kb29@REDACTED

Subject: UPDATE

Sent: Tuesday, 8/14/16, 11:14 PM

Police suspicion successfully diverted. Subject K. Delancey apprehended with felony amount of LSD. Police still seeking LSD source, but looking towards the city. Please instruct agents there to set up a patsy. Agent CF and I reviewing data. Still unsure about what triggered aberrant behavior. Please have lab check control sample of batch HB-103 against last sample I sent. Should we lower levels to avoid future incidents?

Agent CF complaining of dizziness, occasional disorientation. Likely due to lack of sleep and recent stress. Will keep you updated on her condition. My condition is nominal.

Agent out

To: marie.franklin@gmail.com

From: carlafranklin37@doj.gov

Subject: Hey sis

Sent: Tuesday, 8/14/16, 11:14 PM

I know, I know. I don’t talk to you or mom and dad for three months and now an email? I’m sorry, Murray, I’ve been… busy? I wish I could tell you about it. No, I don’t. You don’t need the burden. How are you? How is life? School? Boys?? Tell me all of it.

I wish I could talk to you more. I wish I could just be a person again. I feel crushed. I can’t breathe. I miss our time together. The bus. The ferris wheel. Tolkien.

I can’t stop thinking that something terrible is coming. Maybe it’s already here, lying in the shadows by the foot of my bed, waiting to snatch me up and eat me the moment I put my feet on the ground. A monster of my own making. You get back what you put into the world, that’s what dad always says. If that’s true, I don’t want to stick around for payday. I know, Carla’s being self-pitying again, soaking up all the attention and the “no, you’re great”s. That’s not what this is. Or maybe it is. I’ve been the monster in the shadows too long, little sister. Maybe it’s time to bask in the sunlight, to be seen by the world. Or by God. That’s what Grandma would’ve said. Remember how much she used to preach? We’d always laugh. The place I’m in, they sound like her. I understand her now. I understand them. I understand Him. Sometimes, just for a moment, I feel like I can understand everything. Then it’s gone.

Thanks for reading my word-barf, Murray.

I love you. See you on the other side.

Yours, now and forever,

Carla

To: kb29@REDACTED

From: REDACTED

Subject: Re: UPDATE

Sent: Wednesday, 8/15/16, 10:03 AM

Lab analysis has come back, comparing control sample HB-103 with the sample you sent postmarked 8/7/16. Everything is up to par. We’ll know more when you send a newer sample. Recent incidents appear to be aberration. Continue mission. Do not alter course, dosage, or any other parameters for the time being.

Agents in the city have implicated cartels. DEA, FBI, ICE all very interested now, will take this far, far away from Harbrook. Good job with clean-up, agents. Ensure that Agent CF gets some sleep. We don’t need any more slip-ups.

Transcript from Indiscrete Microphone, Routine Agent Monitoring

Wednesday, 8/15/16, 3:54 PM

[car sounds, radio]

Agent KB: [singing to radio] Hmm-hm-hm - now get in formation… You alright? You’re giving me a real weird look.

Agent CF: Huh? Oh. Yeah. I’m fine.

KB: Are you sure? If you’re sick, tell me now, I don’t want to catch whatever you have.

CF: I’m fine, Katy. I’m just feeling out of it, you know?

KB: What do you mean?

CF: Like, like something’s not right. About this.

KB: About us?

CF: All of this!

KB: You mean the mission? I know we hit some speed bumps, but that’s all they were.

CF: Not just the mission. This town. The sky. Life.

[pause]

KB: Well, you’re right about this town. I’ve seen more porn since we got here than my entire life up to that point. Goddamn.

CF: Don’t use those words.

KB: Porn?

CF: No. His name.

[pause]

KB: Well, you weren’t so tight-laced about that just a few nights ago.

[extended silence]

KB: I’m sorry, that-

CF: Don’t. Just don’t.

To: REDACTED

From: kb29@REDACTED

Subject: UPDATE

Sent: Wednesday, 8/15/16, 11:09 PM

Mission status nominal. Subject K. Delancey is still detained. Public has heard rumors of LSD and is connecting the dots on their own. Mourning for subjects J. Martens and P. Martens continues.

Agent CF’s condition has deteriorated. She is increasingly irrational and argumentative, and has repeatedly mentioned a sense of disorientation. This is my informal request that she be pulled from the field ASAP. She needs a psych eval and a physical. I’m worried about her, REDA.

My condition nominal.

Agent out.

To: kb29@REDACTED

From: REDACTED

Subject: Re: UPDATE

Sent: Wednesday, 8/15/16, 11:42 PM

Request for agent withdrawal denied. You may still make a formal request if you like, but you know that will involve an on the record statement saying agent CF is unfit for duty. Continue mission as it stands for now. Does agent CF drink tea? An herbal tea often helps relieve both physical and mental symptoms of stress.

Keep me updated.

Transcript from Indiscrete Microphone, Routine Agent Monitoring

Thursday, 8/16/16. 2:12 PM

[squeaking rubber, indecipherable noises, indecipherable chatter, amplified recording]

Voice over PA: Here at Stop’n’Save, we stop to-

Agent KB: There you are. You find the hot pockets?

Agent CF: [indecipherable]

KB: What?

CF: [groaning] Whoa.

KB: Are you okay?

CF: Katy…

KB: Yeah?

CF: Katy, He spoke to me.

KB: What? Who?

CF: Him.

KB: God spoke to you? Carla, breathe.

CF: He spoke to me, to me. His voice. His face!

KB: Carla! Get a hold of yourself.

CF: I was right about this town, it’s off, it’s wrong.

KB: Hey, what are you-

CF: Protocol 00!

KB: Put that down, Carla.

[gun cocks]

CF: [shouting] It’s time.

[gunshot, screaming]

KB: Put it down, agent. You’re blowing this whole operation.

CF: I have bathed in the light of God! I am His eyes! [gunshot] I am His ears! [gunshot] I am- [gunshot]

[screaming]

[sirens]

KB: Oh, fuck, Carla. Carla, oh no, oh no, Carla, speak to me, speak to me, baby. Breathe. Please, Carla, please-

“In Harbrook, a Nightmare Continues

Last Sunday, a married couple was found dead in their home in Harbrook County, a grizzly murder/suicide. Two days later, an elderly woman hospitalized for a public breakdown. That same day, a local teen arrested with a felony level of narcotics, implicating him in a major DEA investigation. And now, a horrific public shooting. Wednesday, around 2 PM, shoppers at the Stop’n’Save grocery store on Clairmont Avenue ran in terror when a deranged woman fired a gun into a crowd of people. The first shot missed, but as chaos erupted, she fired twice more, striking both times. One bullet struck Darrel Jenkins, 24, an employee at the Stop’n’Save. The other struck Betsy Carmichael, 19. Both were rushed to St. Ignacious Hospital, where they are in critical condition. Before the shooter could fire again, another woman, believed to be connected to her in some way, fired at her from point-blank range, killing her. The second shooter fled the scene on foot, running into the woods before authorities could arrive. Local police have set up a man-hunt, assisted by the State Troopers and later FBI, who are believed to be taking command of the investigation. Witnesses said they recognized the two women, saying they had moved in on the edge of town almost a year ago but kept mostly to themselves. The fugitive is described as average height and weight, curly brown hair, and of indeterminate race. ‘There is reason to consider the suspect both armed and dangerous,’ said Sheriff John Cowley in a press conference Wednesday night. ‘We caution residents of Harbrook and the surrounding areas to lock their doors, stay in after dark, and generally keep an eye out. If you see the suspect, do not engage, withdraw to a safe distance and call the police,’ he added. The parents of both Mr. Jenkins and Ms. Carmichael have invited the community to come pray with them in the chapel hospital.”

Notes.

I know that the events of Harbrook are dismaying. Agents KB and CF were two of our most stalwart operatives, and they set in motion one of our greatest operations in half a century. Our resultant findings, even in the adolescence of Project Harbrook, exceed all projections. Unfortunately, in a project like this, human error, whether a heretofore unknown psychosis or a romantic indiscretion, is inevitable. We will continue with our mission. We are so close. We will succeed, for agent CF, for our country, and for the planet. God bless America and God bless this project.

-REDACTED

[phogenson]

A Hard Year: Emergency Room

I left the ATM with a bit of cash which I figured I could afford to spend at my favorite coffee shop for dinner. This was a bit of a treat in February 2016--I wasn't eating enough, a problem I will examine in another post. I walked two miles to the Hard Times Cafe as the temperature fell.

Writing in my Moleskine has been a good way to organize my thoughts since I started directing. So while I was waiting for my food I just wrote what I had on my mind. I don't write free associations, but this entry has that feel about it.

The page wanders from instances of anxiety producing triggers in my life; some interpersonal difficulties I was facing in my living situation; a small meditation on film. One of the things that can happen in the real throes of anxiety seems to be valuable insight into a topic. There is a high degree of mental activity which can seem like an excess of clarity--like an over exposed photograph.

For a moment on this page I considered how music might inherently detract from film. The reasoning here is still very clear to me, something to return to. Basically the thinking goes that cinema is an art all its own, the addition of music or even dialogue, while perhaps powerful, also dilutes the medium. It hybridizes it, something perhaps problematic. This is something that's connected to many other thoughts I have on film as a medium and I think belies my interest in minimalism e.g. sound and music should only be deployed as little as needed in film.

I would like to come back to the idea, no doubt. In some way I'm sure I will. But my handwritten paragraph, rather than drawing a conclusion ended with the words "so fuck him." It's not even tangential like this reflection is. It's jumbled. The paragraph, the entire page, points to all sorts of things that were on my mind. It draws no conclusions.

One aside catches my attention though.

Only recently have I looked at the idea that "no one sees" and it's a deep yearning I feel. It was not something I merely wanted at the time, it underscores existence. The next morning I would live out the preceding description in this paragraph. I'd be alone.

February 13, 2016 I woke up at a friend's house, I slept on the couch because home wasn't where I wanted to be. That morning I had a meeting scheduled and I didn't make it. The temperature in Minneapolis that morning was -8 Fahrenheit and this was a problem. Unprotected and over used, my phone battery died again and again in the cold as I tried to reserve a Car2Go. I was running late, it was a Saturday, nothing was open and nothing worked. The batteries in a Smart Car struggle to start the engine in Minneapolis on a day like this.

Being in that kind of situation, constant failures and mental rerouting has a distinct feel to it. Wikipedia describes a diagnosis of a panic attack which includes the word "un-reality" and that is a true description. The thought in my head was "how is this possible?" It didn't seem like what was happening was remotely possible. Everything that I took for granted failed. My phone, the car, the stoplights didn't work, the streets seemed unnavigable. It's not bad luck and it's not first world problems at some point. And more than being self critical, there seemed to be no explanation of the situation I was in despite very real experience of it.

Eventually I was driving on I-94 toward St. Paul doing 80 and as the words in my head to describe whatever I was feeling at the moment failed me too. So I screamed and mugged. Trying to dead recon my way to where I was going, I pulled off the highway, got lost, and stopped near a BP.

I went in and asked to charge my phone. The answer was "no," and the guy at the gas station had probably seen a million crazier things than me at that moment. That's a problem too, I was holding myself to a standard of normality that required tremendous concentration. Shaking, I broke what might have been my last dollar into quarters and used a payphone outside in Minnesota's version of February to call my Dad, an analyst and LCSW. He cut through the noise and oncoming tears and told me to get to a hospital.

On this call a guy, Dave, asked me if I was okay. This was an unbelievably fortunate meeting. Looking back it is absolutely the kind of strange collision that killed the dinosaurs or welcomed the grief stricken mourners at the empty tomb of Christ. Dave asked me directly if I needed a ride someplace. I told my Dad I was going to get to a hospital and I hung up.

I pulled myself together as much as I could--any resolve must have been transparent--and said "uh, can you take me to a hospital." Dave took me to Regions Hospital and maybe I owe him my life.

Regions took good care of me. I've heard that the best way to get seen at the ER is to say you're bleeding and you move to the front of triage right away, but maybe saying you think you're having a panic attack works well too. They took my vitals, verifying the hypertension from the night before and pretty quick observation must've made diagnosis pretty easy. The doctors tell you who they are, there's two of them, then they ask you these questions:

"What brings you in today?"

And I said "I think I had a panic attack."

"Do you have any thoughts of harming yourself or others?"

And because if you're in that seat, being asked these questions, you do want to die you say "yes."

Then they ask if you've ingested any alcohol or drugs recently, and when your repression about the last days makes you clam up they tell you "we just need to know what we're dealing with." And you tell them the God's honest truth for what feels like the first time in your life even if ten seconds earlier was the first time you'd verbalized suicidal thoughts, and twenty minutes earlier you couldn't speak. The doctor said "I tried weed and didn't like it at all."

This was all good. It happened fast. And then things get a little less great and a lot more harsh reality. The hospital has some ward for emergency psychiatric issues, but it's not great. They take all your stuff and put it in a locked room while you change into scrubs. Then you get a room and a little later the worst cafeteria food ever, and they get your order wrong. But I hadn't eaten really at all. So I ate the chicken and peas.

This ward was actually in disrepair. They were building a new one, so maintenance wasn't a priority. But I had my own room with no windows and very beige walls and some stock photo of a palm tree bolted to the wall. There absolutely is a camera in there. And they check on you.

I know I was not the worst case in the hospital. At one point I heard a nurse remind the guy in the room next to me that he'd pulled a knife on a guy outside a bar last night. He denied it. But I think I was very high on their priority list because they had identified me as a suicide risk. Although by this point I felt like I'd seen too much to even try it.

So a doctor met with me pretty quick.

"We can give you a 'chill pill' that'll knock you out for a while," he offered. We talked about a bunch of things, but I didn't want medication like that. It seemed like it'd just be another blow. Then they tell you what they want to do. They wanted to move me "upstairs" as soon as they could, but this meant waiting in the room overnight. They didn't have the space or the doctors to make that happen.

The doctor also outlined other options for observation. In that situation the options really sound like the end of your ability to have any control in your life. I really didn't want to give up what little control I had over my life at that point. It's seemed like a misconception that being in even a pretty laissez-faire institution would be desirable. I could have my thoughts, but maybe not have control over my food. In other situations maybe that seems like a huge boon, like you wouldn't have to worry about living, but some pretty basic functions were the limits of my control and I didn't want to give them up. I thought about it though.

At some point I made a few phone calls. I called my work, told them I was in the emergency room and that they'd have to find some way of making coffee without me. I don't know if they could've guessed what'd happened. I feel like they had some idea. I called my parents and told them I made it to the hospital.

Then I waited for hours to be seen by a social worker. Apparently she described my looks as "he looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin." Basically I just lay in the bed. My cousin came by, she would help me immensely over the coming weeks.

In the end though they can't keep you in the ER when you ask to leave. But they will write a prescription for lorazepam to keep you from coming back in. I'll talk more about lorazapam in another soon, but it stops a panic attack like a freight train. This is the only time they'll just hand you this pill and basically tell you to stay doped up on it for as long as the prescription runs.

The hospital pays for a taxi. And this taxi driver was exactly the kind of over masculine, I work out, hot girlfriend, meathead I could barely deal with. I sat there next to the patriarchy for a little while.

I got home and made a few more calls. At this point there was also an early warning sign of things to come between me and one of my roommates. We got pizza and, couched in concern for me, he said "you've gotta go home, dude." And that's really hard to hear when your life is in this city and except for the last 12 hours you feel self sufficient. When I could think about it more rationally, my entire system of support was in Minneapolis--family, a therapist, hospitals, my job--and I wasn't about to abandon it to be home. And I hated Minneapolis. So it was a dubious claim. In hindsight this conversation began to make me unsure of myself in how I handled day to day situations and planted seeds of personal attacks that eventually did push me out of the house.

Ultimately I did the best I could. Eventually I did what I had to. Somewhere in there were some fuck-ups too.

On February 14, 2016 I was pretty doped up--lorazepam. But looking at the scribbles from two nights earlier, the beginnings of the effect the lorazepam has are clear. My writing was straight, pragmatic, to the point, and fiercely linear albeit a little more open than I like.

I've excerpted the entire page.