#because I’m physically incapable of sharing in their pain and emotions; I literally don’t understand it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cruelfeline · 4 years

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This Got Long and I am Sorry

Well, the anti in the Hordak tag deleted their post, which is a huge bummer because it means no fun games for me. But! I have been looking forward to addressing the points in that post all day, and I won’t give up my chance to talk ad nauseam about Hordak. Because y’all know that I love to talk about Hordak.

also I saved the post as a draft prior to it getting deleted so I actually have the whole thing hahaha

However: in order to prevent the original poster from getting harassed for said post, I’m just going to address points via my own summary. Safer that way! So, here we go: addressing some posited reasons that Catra and Hordak are not comparable, plus some claims about why Hordak can’t be treated with the same kindness many like to treat Catra with.

1. Hordak being a clone of a dictator/not being biologically similar to Catra et. al, acting as he does because of this biology as a clone.

This portion of that post was a little odd because I don’t really understand what the argument was. Perhaps the idea that Hordak literally cannot be anything different than his progenitor due to... cloning science? I’m not sure.

But assuming that that was the intended argument: being a clone essentially means having the same DNA as someone else. That’s all. It does not mean that you are the exact same person (ask some identical twins if they are the same exact person as their sibling). The environment one is raised in, along with epigenetics (changes in individuals due to gene expression rather than DNA), provides infinite variations between individuals that might share the same DNA. So this argument is a little... nonsensical?

Now, I can definitely buy that some of Hordak’s morality might be biology-based; that is a legitimate argument. See this post regarding why an individual like Hordak may not have issues raising children for his army, for example. Mind you, I don’t really see this as an argument in support of him just being an evil, irredeemable bastard; rather, I look at it as an argument against “natural evil” and more in favor of different biological, cultural, and environmental factors creating an alien morality.

2. Hordak created a social system that resulted in all sorts of abuses being visited upon children. He viewed said children as disposable materials for his war.

...yeah, actually, just go to this post again. Honestly, I have zero expectation for Hordak to have any sort of special tenderness towards children. I don’t expect a clone from a society of clones to value children, not because he’s pure evil, but because he comes from a world where children aren’t a thing. Why would he value them?

A creature whose life is so different from ours as to give it a different sense of morals isn’t necessarily evil, even if they do things that we look upon as evil via our morality. Morality is not a universal constant; our evil may be meaningless to an alien, whereas our good might be horrifying to them. It all depends on the creature.

And as far as seeing children as disposable material for war: well, that follows, doesn’t it? Because after all, Hordak is also disposable material for war. Material that was actually disposed of.

3. Hordak was ready to murder Catra for disobeying orders; he’s likely murdered other high ranking officers for the same.

There is no evidence that Hordak has personally murdered anyone, so we’re just going to pass on that. One may speculate all one wants, but unless Hordak presents me with a neatly-written list of all the poor souls he’s slain, I don’t have much to say about this.

However, regarding him being ready to kill Catra: this is a complex situation because it was not as simple as “Catra disobeyed, so she must die.” Catra did not just disobey Hordak; she lied to him. He gave her a chance to come clean, to be trustworthy and loyal, to own up to a mistake, and she lied to him.

This is an issue for a couple of reasons: first, Hordak appears to have a thing about lies. He has a thing about people deceiving him (potentially because, where he comes from, he is truly incapable of lying), about not knowing what people around him are planning. Personally, I think that this is at least somewhat rooted in self-defense: he is physically weak without armor and prone to emotional manipulation by anyone who knows anything remotely intimate about him. Catra proves this point by manipulating the bejeezus out of him during season four, right after showing him that she can kill him anytime she likes by disarming him via crystal-grab. If one of his subordinates is prone to deceiving him, he needs to get rid of that subordinate to protect himself.

Second, when Catra loses Shadow Weaver, she truly does endanger the whole Horde. Like, Shadow Weaver literally helps the Princesses infiltrate during season three. That is a thing that happens. Hordak isn’t just pulling dumb moments of insubordination from thin air; he elects to eliminate Catra because she has done something that proves to be actually detrimental to the Horde in a serious way.

I don’t mean to say that Hordak is morally correct in sentencing Catra to death, first via Beast Island, then via Crimson waste; what I mean to say is that he enacts an extremely dramatic punishment not due to simple disobedience, but due to Catra being legitimately dangerous to his life and the life of the Horde. It’s still not “good,” but it’s not the same as killing Catra for mouthing off. It’s not some grand confirmation of irredeemable evil; it’s not that simple.

4. Catra is an abused child who has been broken physically, emotionally, and psychologically since she was an infant; Hordak, on the other hand, has no background in abuse. The only bad that has happened to him is being called a defect and sent out to fight and die, which didn’t really matter because he was a clone anyway.

This… this is a sentiment some antis hold that is honestly disturbing to me.

I won’t touch on the Catra portion; all of that is true.

But Hordak… I cannot comprehend how some people don’t seem to understand the true horror of Hordak’s situation. As far as we currently know, as of season four, Hordak was manufactured to be a tool of war. He was never meant to be his own person, despite clearly having the psyche of one. He didn’t even have, couldn’t have, his own name. He was born into this purpose with no way out, no hope for any choice of his own. For pity’s sake, he has a port in the back of his neck that allows him to be erased without a moment’s notice. That is a piece of hardware someone put in him to completely control him against his will. It is a level of bodily autonomy violation suffered by no one else on this show.

Hordak has essentially no personal self-esteem and no ability to self-validate outside of his identity as Prime’s clone. His entire concept of self-worth is based upon being useful to Prime, to the point that he doesn’t seem to understand that his being thrown away for getting sick is not only not his fault, but morally abhorrent. He is so emotionally dependent on his Brother that, despite severe risk to his own life, he seeks to return to him rather than simply taking Etheria for himself (which is what he would have done if he simply wanted to be a ruler). He needs Prime’s validation, Prime’s approval, that badly.

And he tries to obtain that approval despite being absolutely terrified of Prime, despite it being very clear to us that there is no way that Prime will ever give it as long as Hordak remains his own self. Despite all of that, Hordak needs it because he was manufactured and programmed and conditioned to worship this terrible creature, and he simply cannot grasp a different way to live. He’s too emotionally sick.

I’m not sure how someone can look at this character and not see what has happened to him, what is happening to him, as abuse.

5. Hordak only starts to care about anything else when Entrapta enters his life, and he only does so because she validates him; even then, it takes a long time.

This is a perplexing concept to me because… well, yes? Of course he only starts to see things differently when he bonds with Entrapta? Obviously?

Until then, he never had anyone suggest to him that he could be a worthwhile person without having some sort of practical use. He never had a companion to share his vulnerabilities with. He only had his sick ties to Prime.

Perhaps this means to suggest that Hordak should have started building a new life without the help he received from Entrapta? As if people suffering from mental illness and severe emotional pain should just be able to lift themselves up with zero support and fix their whole lives in a snap.

Ailing people tend to need other people’s support to get through their troubles. Hordak not being able to see new possibilities for his life without Entrapta’s help doesn’t say anything negative about him; all it says is that he needed someone’s support to start healing. Just as the overwhelming majority of people do.

6. Catra wants to be in charge so that others can’t hurt her. Hordak wants to be in charge just so he can “be on top,” and he only regrets what occurs with Prime because it means he is no longer dominant.

Hordak as a warlord is actually a very interesting thing to look at. He fails to act in the way that many enthusiastic, traditional warlord characters do, to the point that he seems less into the ruling and more into the obtainment of Prime’s esteem via conquering a planet to prove his worth. Which is, y’know, what’s happening: Hordak doesn’t care about ruling Etheria. He cares about conquering it so he can present it to Prime and prove that he deserves to live. The full post about that is right here.

If Hordak really cared about ruling something, he would have never bothered wasting all of that time building a portal to get in contact with Prime. He would have focused all of his efforts on conquering Etheria and left it at that. His actions only make sense when one understands that he doesn’t actually care about being a tyrannical lord; he cares about showing his Brother that he’s a good boy.

7. Catra feels regret for her actions; Hordak does not. Catra sees herself as an irredeemable bad person and hates herself. Hordak doesn’t believe he needs to be redeemed and just wants to control everything.

Again, I won’t touch Catra here, because that assessment is valid.

Hordak, however: Hordak literally thinks so little of himself that he believes it his own job to prove to his brother that he shouldn’t have been tossed aside to die. He doesn’t see this as a moral failing on Prime’s part. He doesn’t see it as wrong, that he was thrown away because he got sick. He sees it as a problem that it is his responsibility to fix.

Hordak admits to Entrapta that he has doubts: perhaps Prime was right. Perhaps he, Hordak, is a failure. Perhaps it was okay to send him out to die.

Hordak believes Catra’s lies about Entrapta’s “betrayal” because, Twitter Word of God, he views himself as undeserving of friendship.

Whether Hordak believes himself needing redemption is beside the point: the core of Hordak’s story and character arc has nothing to do with being a morally good person. It has to do with learning, understanding, and internalizing that he has his own value beyond what Horde Prime grants him. It has to do with accepting himself as he is, triumphs and shortcomings alike. It has to do with realizing that he has a right to live with or without Prime’s say-so.

Moral redemption has nothing to do with it because before Hordak has any hope of learning to respect the rights of others, he has to learn to fight for his own.

Am I done? I think I’m done.

Well. Regrettably, I had to summarize this, so the original poster’s words are not verbatim intact, but I think I got the sense of them! Also regrettably, they will likely not see or respond to this, so that chance for active dialogue is gone. But anyone else can respond if they like, including any antis lurking about the tag. Well; if you can slog through this whole thing!

Anyway, in conclusion: Hordak is a sad bastard man. He has just as many painful personal problems as Catra and will forever have all of my sympathy and kindness because I have decided that he deserves it. So there.

#hordak #catra #man I have been looking forward to writing this nonsense all day and it was a good time #i love talking about this bastard #to the point that i appreciate antis giving me posts to respond to #you go you angry little people

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suchplausibilities · 5 years

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supercorp + medieval au or theme park au 👀💕

Don’t think I don’t know this was a Trap to do a Merlin/Supergirl fusion bianca. I do. but i have too many feelings about both of them and am not prepared for the inevitable implosion of emotion when the combine.

SO. Since last time i went to a theme park I spent the entire time dizzy and nauseous and therefore have bad feelings, I’m counting on your kind heart to allow me to slightly alter the timeline, and instead of doing a medieval AU, doing a Renaissance AU. Cool? Cool.

This fic would be called Open to Interpretation*, and would be forever long because I am physically incapable of shutting up. Lemme outline it for you (or give you the entire plot of the first half of the story):

Kara D’Anversa, the youngest daughter of a peasant class woodworker (originally Kara Zolea, daughter of a prominent traveling merchant), is nearly twenty when she decides what her course in life should be. She’s always been a thinker; the type to spend swaths of time in the field near her family’s cottage, taking detailed notes about the insects and animals and vegetation to better understand the whys behind their design. The way their aesthetics play into their function fascinates her in a very unique way. Her parents and sister - thinkers themselves, though in different ways - are happy to indulge her passion in any way they can, as they’re very aware that the older she gets, the less freedom she’ll have to be vibrant and brilliant and herself. If this means that half of most meals consist of the meaning of the color patterns of certain types of insects, then so be it.

(For the record: Alex knows a lot about leaves, now. A lot.)

When Jeremiah begins to notice the sketches starting to accompany her notes, he gets an idea. Kara receives her first book on techniques for crafting paint and canvas when she’s fifteen. Within three years, she has a total of six books related to painting and artistry.

When Alex is nearly twenty-five, her parents begin to discuss marriage. They’ve been receiving offers for years - unusual for the peasant class, given that poorer families usually required the help of their children for a larger portion of their youth, which also had the advantage of helping fathers to scrape together bigger dowries - but have neglected to give them any attention at all, given her age, their need for assistance in crafting and running the shop, and their desire to delay the inevitable for as long as possible, after they noticed that, even though she put forth a brave face, the idea of having a husband made Alex noticeably distressed. Now, though, she’s beginning to get offers from families known to be both kind and financially secure, and they’re afraid that, given her age, waiting would mean risking both her happiness and her future. Alex is both understanding and miserable.

The night that Jeremiah and Eliza tell Alex that they’ve narrowed it down to two men, and will likely have a deal by the end of the week, Kara spends the entire night in Alex’s bed, comforting and crying and laughing and just talking. It’s nearly dawn when Alex tells her to go. At Kara’s confused questions, Alex finally smacks her lightly on the back of her head, and tells her to stop being dense. She’s been talking about exploring and painting different parts of the country, finally finding a person whose portrait she finds interesting enough to paint, and meeting famous artists and being tutored by them for literal years. It’s time to shut up about it and finally go do it.

Kara’s understandably taken aback by this - um, she’s a woman near marrying age living under the feudal system. How in the heck would she even manage that?? Alex gives her money she’s been saving since she was Kara’s age (her dad was kind enough to let her take a cut from some of the jobs they completed together), meant to be her back-up plan if her parents were strong-armed into accepting the one of the proposals from the various jerks asking for her hand, and tells Kara that she’s smart enough to figure out the rest.

Kara leaves the next day.

Only, here’s the problem: She’s been reading and hearing about various artists for years now, and most of them have one thing in common: they’re stationed in Florence. That’s hella far to travel, considering that she lives in the Kingdom of Naples, in the province of Ultra, which doesn’t even have the decency to be near the Northern border - it’s dead up in the middle. That’s not even mentioning the fact that she’s a beautiful technically-still-teenager, traveling alone.

Furthermore, she’s not ignorant of her circumstances. There aren’t many artists that would be willing to take on a female pupil. She’s heard quite a bit about the personalities of several of them, and from what she can tell, that there are just a few that would even possibly maybe consider that. And, given that she’s risking everything for this, she’s not willing to settle on who she would like to learn from. If she’s going to do this, she’s going big. So, she decides to seek out the artist that most inspires her, to the point that the chance of learning from him is totally worth risking her life and future: Leonardo da Vinci.

During her harrowing trip to Florence (which involves lots of running, hiding, kind strangers with familiar names that are more than willing to help, and - naturally - punching of gross dudes), a few more hiccups in her plan begin to emerge. Firstly, she learns that da Vinci may be from Florence, and he may frequently stay there, but he definitely doesn’t live there. In fact, one thing that didn’t make it into her books or the stories she was told was that he is constantly traveling. He’s considered one of the greatest artists of his time, and is, therefore, frequently commissioned to work for rulers and nobles all over Europe. So, even if she makes it to Florence, there is a very good chance that she’ll never actually meet him.

Secondly, da Vinci’s willingness to tutor talented artists that wish to improve means that he already has quite a few pupils, assistants, and potential protégés that travel with him. Even if he was willing to take on one more artist, the fact remains that she is a woman. Her gender might not matter to him, but it’s unlikely that all of his students will share his feelings, which could potentially be a serious roadblock.

Naturally, though, Kara ignores the odds and keeps going. Even if he’s not in Florence, he’s a big enough name that she can probably still find him, and she’s willing to do whatever it takes. And, as far as his students go? Let’s just assume there’s a 16th century Italian equivalent to ‘screw those guys,’ and that Kara thought it very loudly.

Finally, two and a half years after leaving home, Kara arrives in Florence. Is she poor and tired? Yes. Is she also resourceful and unshakably determined? Absolutely. So, after she manages to secure temporary housing and an underpaying job willing to employ women on the down low, she starts asking around about da Vinci. Reports are contradictory, but she finally manages to speak to a reliable source that is absolutely sure that he’s in France, having been befriended, commissioned, and housed by the King, Francis I. With some effort, she finds the name of the town he’s settled down in: Amboise.

Nearly three years later, she arrives in Amboise. It reminds her of her village, because, although it’s slightly larger, it’s still small enough to be very close-knit. It doesn’t surprise her, then, that when people learn where she’s from and why she’s there, they’re slightly standoffish. What does surprise her is that, even when they realize her persistence, they’re entirely unwilling to even confirm or deny da Vinci’s presence, and continue to suggest that she look to expand her art knowledge elsewhere.

Finally, a local baker that she’s managed to befriend in the short time she’s been in town tells her that she’s asking the wrong questions. He tells her to head towards the eastern edge of town, and ask for Luciano.

Asking for this Luciano goes well - right up until the moment she explains why she wants to meet him and triggers the same brick wall she had before. She learns very quickly to keep it vague and let people draw their own conclusions about her reasons, which pays off well. Luciano Michelini, she learns, is a close friend and apprentice of Leonardo da Vinci. da Vinci, by this time, is elderly, and suffers from a crippling of his hand that has essentially stopped him from creating anything new. As a result, Michelini handles all requests for pieces, deliveries of purchases, and correspondence with those seeking guidance on artistic and engineering projects. Unlike da Vinci, Michelini is often seen about town, and the locals know him well.

After hearing all of this, Kara makes the painful decision to end her quest here. Bothering an old man so crippled that he barely leaves his home seems excessive and unkind, which is unacceptable, no matter how much it would mean to her to meet and learn from him. She’s disappointed, but there are other ways to improve in her artistry that don’t involve harassing the elderly. So, instead of seeking out a meeting with Michelini, she gathers her things a prepares herself to return to Florence.

…Which is, of course, when Michelini finds her.

See, the town is even more tight knit than Kara realized, and word had been passed around about the strange girl wanting to become a pupil of Leonardo da Vinci since the day she arrived. The baker (who truly had become fond of Kara), had been instructed by Luciano himself to point her his way. When they finally met, he explained that he preferred for his first impressions to be from a distance. He liked having the upper hand in a first meeting. da Vinci’s fame meant that it was important to know the type of person he was dealing with.

This does not annoy Kara as might have in other situations. Instead, she finds this man endlessly intriguing. Soon, she’s telling the tale of her long journey here, showing him her paintings, and getting a much clearer picture of what type of person would be able to get so close to someone like da Vinci. Before she knows it, Michelini is helping her to gather her things and leading her to the Château of Cloux - Leonardo da Vinci’s estate.

On the way, she learns a few things: Firstly, Luciano Michelini is not a painter. Unlike most that sought out tutelage from da Vinci, his desire was to be educated in the complex science of mechanics and engineering. Michelini saw the structures and machinery of the day and just thought that they could do better. There was so much more that man could do, and there was no one better than Leonardo to help him to learn how to make real, permanent advances.

Secondly, he met da Vinci in Milan, when he was 18 - eight years ago, now. He’d had many pupils when Michelini first began following da Vinci, but he was now the only one, and had been for several years. Luciano credits these years as ones that gave his life real meaning.

Once they’ve arrived at the expansive château and have taken up residence in the sitting room, though, a few more (fairly vital) pieces of information are shared.

For example: Leonardo da Vinci, Luciano explains calmly, has been dead for nearly six months. Kara’s silent shock ends up very convenient, in that it allows Luciano to explain without protest:

A little over a year ago, Leonardo contracted a mild illness, expected to resolve itself within a few days. A few weeks later, he was entirely bedridden, and stayed that way for months, before finally dying. Luciano, who had long since considered the man his father, was his primary caregiver, and therefore spent hours upon hours hearing stories of his past, ideas that struck him suddenly, and his regrets.

On his deathbed, Leonardo had shared that his greatest regret, by far, was that he had not carried out his works to the extent he should have, and had therefore failed God and accomplished no real change. This affected Luciano deeply, as he’d never met a greater man in his life. So, as Leonardo lived out his last few hours, Luciano came up with a plan that would prove to an even definitively how great Leonardo da Vinci truly was.

With the blessing of King Francis I, and a vow from those that lived in Amboise (a town that was very unique in that very few people moved in, and just as few moved out) to stay mum, Luciano kept da Vinci’s death a secret, abandoned his own projects, and set to work building - and, where possible, implementing - many of the inventions da Vinci had detailed in his notebooks. The king had granted Luciano two years to bring to life as many projects as he could before da Vinci’s death was officially announced, at which point they would be revealed and demonstrated so that all of Europe had a much clearer understanding of how much da Vinci had - and could have, if he’d had more time - affected their lives. It wasn’t enough, Luciano admitted, but it was something, and the least of what da Vinci deserved.

When Kara finally digests this news, she asks the first question that pops into her head: Why was she - an outsider with no affection for da Vinci, outside of the impersonal kind she’d developed from hearing about and occasionally seeing his work -let in on such a huge secret?

“You’re exactly the type of artist he would have taken as a student without hesitation. The type of unique fortitude combined with the level of skill you possess is very rare. You have a very sharp eye. He’d have never passed up on the opportunity to teach you. I can’t introduce you to him, but I can show you things of his that might help guide you.

“To be entirely, honest, though, my ego wasn’t entirely uninvolved in the decision. You remind me of myself.”

“Because of my passion and determination?”

“Maybe a little, but those traits are more common than you think. I was more referring to how we’re both women that went through great lengths to avoid having to give up our entire selves to better fit into our assigned roles.”

“…uh, yeah. That’s… similar.”

(Kara gets the full story the next day, when she’s less overwhelmingly stupefied:

Lena Lovatti was the daughter of Lorenzo Lovatti, one of the richest men in Milan. He was also one of the most feared. Though he was far from poor, he sought out ways to climb even further in the ranks of the nobility, and ultimately managed to gain much more wealth by acting as a spy for the French, a successful venture that ultimately helped them to overthrow the existing dynasty in Milan and take power there. Given his wealth and the protection he received from the Milan’s new French rulers, he was practically untouchable. This was a good thing, because he was also largely hated by the locals for his treason.

This little hiccup meant that Lorenzo had only recently found a suitable suitor for Lena, who’d just turned 18. Lena was in the process of finding a way out of that situation (and that house) when her father requested that Leonardo da Vinci, one of the most famous artists of the time, come visit their estate to discuss the possibility of Leonardo completing a piece for Lorenzo.

da Vinci ultimately declined, but during the visit, he caught Lena - who’d retreated to the study after dinner - sketching the design for a machine she was thinking up. Impressed, he convinced her to show him other ideas she’d come up with. When he mentioned that he would love the chance to guide her and help her to better her understanding of the natural forces at play that would determine the effectiveness of her inventions, she laughed, asking him not to feed her impossible dreams. She was a Woman, after all. Leonardo clearly didn’t care about her gender, but wasn’t ignorant of the challenges they would both face if a upper class woman joined him in his travels. He didn’t give up, though. After a brief silence, he asked, “Tell me: Would you be especially opposed to hosiery, or are you too attached to the bodice?”

Two weeks later, Lena Lovatti’s strange disappearance was clarified by her family: She’d run away and joined a convent.

Three years later, the French were overthrown in Milan, and its former dynasty once again took power.)

The epilogue (wtf is wrong with me) would involve an episode of Fox and Friends, wherein they discuss the recent discovery of letters and portrait sketches that would suggest that Leonardo da Vinci’s most prominent pupil and inheritor of his estate was most likely a woman. The implications of this were even more astounding, as said pupil was married to the woman who, just a decade ago, been identified as the artist behind a nom de plume that had been used on several paintings now considered to be priceless.

The segment’s a complete cyclone of insane garbage, but this is what becomes everyone’s favorite soundbite:

“This is just the most ridiculous – I mean, god. They got the bathrooms, they got the marriage, they got into congress - how much more gay do we need? Are we rewriting the constitution next? ‘We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created fabulous.’?”

*lol good try, past Erin. That is not its name.

#this took so much research #i hope it was worth it #inaccuracy in historical writing is my kryptonite #by which i mean it kills me slowly and cruelly #hahaha outline right?#in which erin once again fails to chill #ps d'anversa is a real last name common to that area i didnt make it up #but i WAS tickled pink #pps the idiot at the end is not quoting the constitution #pippytmi #writing memes #my writing #kara and lena #bianca #supergirl

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gore-hovnd · 5 years

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Don’t Breathe: Part Two

As per request of @hydra-trash-spot

Warning For: Toxic/Controlling Relationship, Emotional/Physical Abuse

(Also, side note, I’m literally incapable of proofreading unless things are in post format so please excuse my typos pff)

(Side Note pt 2, electric boogaloo; I edited it and now it’s not as BAD. Idk if this is gonna retag but if it does I’m SORRY, bc I’m awful and I’ve been fixing the formatting smh)

Sweat droplets rolled between his shoulders in a way that made his skin crawl as he shifted in his seat. Staring blankly at the paperwork in his hand, Jack began to read the paragraph at the top of the page for the fifth time.

Of course there was maintenance happening on the building’s AC unit, of course today was the hottest day of the week, and of course Brock felt the need fuck him over in more ways than one by not letting him call off work for that day. When he looked at it from Brock’s standpoint as a commander, Jack understood why. The STRIKE team had an urgent mission come up, they would be leaving for it in three days, and they needed everyone to be ready. But when he looked at it from Brock’s standpoint as his boyfriend, Jack knew it was just Brock being the biggest dick imaginable at that point. It hadn’t been enough to drag him around the house in a dog collar that left dark, saturated bruises in its wake and made speaking a chore. It wasn’t enough to humiliate him by claiming that the bruising across Jack’s nose and beneath is eyes was from him coming into unfortunate contact with the shower rod the night before. And it wasn’t enough to make Jack come to work in a heavy jacket, zipped all the way up, in ninety degree weather to hide the bruises over his throat. Because nothing was ever enough and despite trying to stay out of Brock’s line of sight all day, Jack knew he’d always be Brock’s primary target.

“I need you to pick up training with Cap today.” Brock stated plainly while JAck shared a lunch that only one of them ate.

Jack recoiled, looking up from the slowly cooling chicken pasta in front of him. He’d only gotten three bites in before he decided that it hurt too much to swallow.

“Why?” Jack grumbled, his voice low and weak from both the abuse to his vocal cords as well as disuse. He hadn’t said a word to Brock all day, the anger in him once again rising, bashing against the cage of his resolve like a wild beast trying to break free.

“‘Cause Pierce called me about havin’ another meeting this morning. I don’t got a choice here, Jackie, I already told the big guy you’d be there.” Brock explained as he scrolled through his emails at his computer.

“Why not jus’ fuckn’ reschedule.” Jack grumbled under his breath, rising from his seat and throwing his lunch into the bin by Brock’s desk with more force than necessary. The combination of the action and his attitude had Brock looking up from his work, staring at Jack with an irritated look despite the upward turn of his lip.

“What was that, mouth?” He asked and Jack hesitated for a second. He could challenge it, could try to put Brock in his place, but the lingering threat of the previous night’s events bred an unfamiliar fear in his chest and he pulled his gaze away.

“Nothin’.” He mumbled, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets before making his escape.

***

Jack sat in the gym for twenty minutes waiting for Steve.

And in that twenty minutes he contemplated what the hell had just happened. He’d never been afraid of Brock before. Upset? Yes. Wary? Of course. Angry? Abso-fucking-lutely, but afraid? Never. And whatever was causing that fear to fester in his chest was making him sick.

The doors to the gym opened and Jack broke from his thoughts, staring up to meet the bright, happy smile on Steve’s face that oh-so-awfully contrasted from his own bitter mood in a way that was borderline annoying.

“Been a while,” Steve chuckled, offering his hand to help Jack get up from his place on the floor. He took it, pulling himself up and suppressing a hiss of pain as his body ached. That brief tumble down the stairs last night must’ve taken more out of him that he originally thought.

As the two of them readied themselves; stretching, wrapping their hands, and ultimately building dread in Jack’s stomach, he couldn’t help but lose himself again.

“Are you gonna wear that the whole time?” Steve piped up, pulling Jack back to reality for the third time in the past hour.

“What?” He asked, forcing his shoulder to stretch despite the strain of his muscle.

“That jacket.” Steve elaborated, gesturing at him to emphasize.

Jack glanced down at it, somehow momentarily forgetting he had it on, before shrugging with a nod.

“Yeah.”

That was all he chose to say before the two of them stepped into the ring. There he stood: in a jacket, white basketball shorts, and black athletic ankle supports, staring at Steve who wore something similar, just with a tank top instead.

The two of them sparred for a bit and from the very beginning, Jack knew it wasn’t going to end well for him. The soreness that blanketed him only seemed to get heavier the longer he tried to force his body to move. It slowed his reactions, made it impossible to keep up with the living god that was Steve Rogers. Jack didn’t think he could take goddamn Captain America down even on a good day so trying to on a day where all of his muscles were simultaneously on fire definitely wasn’t going to work in his favor.

And try as he might, one particularly well timed hit to his ribs had him on the floor. When he looked at the clock, he’d found that they’d been at it for a solid forty-five minutes and Jack was almost impressed with himself. That is until Steve fussed over him like a damn mother hen.

“Shit, Rollins are you alright?” Steve asked, dropping to his knees to seemingly try and get a closer look at Jack who, in turn, waved him off as he spit his mouthguard out onto the floor.

“M’ fine,” Jack wheezed unconvincingly as he pushed himself up with one arm, the other wrapped securely around his chest. Steve didn’t seem convinced, deciding to go for the jacket which had Jack pulling away reflexively.

Steve paused, staring at him for a moment before he pulled the collar of the jacket down and all Jack could do was look up to avoid seeing the concerned look on Steve’s face. He let Steve unzip the jacket and pull it from his shoulders, getting a closer look. Even the gentle grazes of Steve’s fingers over the bruises on his neck had him flinching, less from actually feeling any pain and more from expecting it. What the hell had Brock done to him? And to think, for a few delusional hours, he thought he was lucky to have that man.

“What happened to you?” Steve asked but Jack didn’t answer, responding by shrugging the jacket back over his shoulders and forcing himself to stand despite how much his body protested. “Did someone try to kill you?”

For a single, cursory moment, Jack paused while his brain took time to do a hard reset. The suggestion felt so ridiculous that he wasn’t sure what else to do but play along with it. So he shrugged and watched as Steve shook his head in disbelief.

“Did you file a report?” He asked and Jack released a bitter laugh.

“What? Hell no.” He snorted. He knew that Steve’s mind was somewhere else entirely but he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like trying to file a report against Brock. He’d be killed, likely. Pierce already hated their relationship, said it was a “conflict of interest.” Jack thought it was asinine at first but now he was beginning to think Pierce, slimy bastard that he was, was right.

“You need to, this is important!” Steve demanded. Jack wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to react and instead just shrugged it off with a quiet ‘s’ fine.’ only to earn himself a frustrated sigh from Steve.

“It’s not fine, it’s dangerous! You know what we do, it’s...our line of work isn’t exactly a forgiving one.” Steve huffed. ‘Tell me about it,’ Jack’s thoughts chimed as he shook his head, staring at Steve with a tired look.

“I gotta get back to work. STRIKE team ships out in three days, be ready.” His voice was monotonous and bland as he turned to head back toward the locker rooms. That’s when Steve grabbed his arm and a rush of adrenaline tore through his body with the force of a fire hose as he turned to throw a punch that Steve quickly dodged, releasing him in the process. Jack didn’t know when he started trembling but now that he noticed, he couldn’t calm his nerves. The sad look that Steve gave him did nothing more than ignite an angry fire within him and suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the feeling that he wanted to fight again.

“You don’t have to do this alone, I can help you.” Steve offered, taking a step forward and offering a gentle hand, only to have Jack grab hold of his wrist with an unnecessarily intense grip.

“Ever stop to think I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Rogers?” Jack growled. “Ever stop to think I might just need your head outta’ my ass?”

With a grimace, Jack shoved Steve back and turned without a second thought, zipping his jacket up as he retreated to lick at the wounds rubbed raw by Steve’s pity.

***

Going through a week long mission with Steve, while simultaneously trying to hide the bruises Brock gave him, had been absolute hell. So it was understandable that all Jack wanted to do when he got home was sleep. Unfortunately for him, all Brock wanted to do was fuck.

“I’m serious, no.” Jack growled, pushing Brock’s hand from his hip only for that same imposing hand to latch right back on.

“Oh, c’mon, Jackie, I need you inside me.” Brock purred, licking at Jack’s throat. By then, the bruises had become a sickly yellow and were faint enough for Jack to stop wearing hoodies and jackets to hide them. The rest of his body healed accordingly and things could go back to being relatively normal, something Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted. Because Brock made him hate normal.

“I said I don’t want to.” Jack said more firmly this time, finally managing to shove Brock back on his haunches. Pushing himself up on his elbows, Jack held Brock’s glare before his commander finally scoffed and stood up from their bed with a huff.

“You know, you seriously make me wanna fuckin’ hit you sometimes.” Brock growled as he left the room, undoubtedly planning to sleep on the couch. He always slept on the couch when he was sick of looking at Jack, when seeing Jack made him angry. He knew this, he knew Brock got mad when he said no, knew that Brock didn’t like it when he refused anything, especially sex, and knew that Brock wanted to hurt him because of it. But Brock had never actually said it aloud before. And for whatever reason, actually hearing it was unsettling.

He didn’t sleep well that night and when he woke up the next morning, he found that Brock had seemingly dropped the entire thing. He was bad about that, about ignoring any sort of argument they had, but Jack didn’t really have any other choice but to deal with it.

Over time, Brock got worse. Just as he always had. After a while his threats stopped being threats and he stopped warning Jack all together. Sometimes Jack could anticipate it but most of the time, it felt entirely random. Brock would smack him in the back of his head, shove him around, punch him, even, if he was in a particularly bad mood. And Jack was at a loss.

There was a war waged in Jack’s mind, his emotions tumbling between hating Brock and adoring him. Brock was a terrible man; he was violent and volatile and fear had become a familiar friend to Jack in the months that had passed since the choke chain incident. But every few days, he would be gentle and kind and he’d make Jack feel like nothing short of a god. And for those few, fleeting hours, Jack was on cloud nine.

But the good times never seem to last and eventually he was sick of making up excuses to stay.

“Come on, Jack, yer gonna leave over that? Over a love tap?” Brock growled as he followed Jack through their home.

“Does it matter?” Jack grumbled, shoving some of his clothes into an old backpack. “I’m a grown man, I can leave if I want to.”

This response, however, wasn’t good enough. Brock’s hand was almost instantly around his arm and Jack recoiled, throwing his elbow back and landing a hit across Brock’s mouth, effectively bloodying his lip.

“Sonuva-” Brock barked, staggering back when Jack landed another hit on his face. Spitting a mixture of blood and spit out onto the dark carpet, Brock wiped a hand across his chin before glaring at Jack, who was frozen. Multiple thoughts raced through his mind in that moment and somehow he was both proud of and angry with himself. But both of those were overshadowed by the terror that crashed through him like a startling rush of electricity when Brock advanced on him.

The two of them fumbled around for awhile, battering and bruising each other until eventually, Brock got his hands around the back of Jack’s head pulled, bringing his knee up to collide with Jack’s nose.

A sickening crunch filled the air and the two of them paused as Jack covered his face, panting while he tried to gather himself. Sitting down on their bed, leaving a bloody handprint on their white comforter, Jack tried to sniff but he couldn’t. Blood dripped down his mouth the same way it had months prior when Brock had pulled him off of the couch and all he could do was wonder to himself why he was stupid enough to stay so long.

“Let’s go.” Brock growled under his breath, taking hold of Jack’s bicep and forcing him to stand like he was a child. Jack shrugged him off, even going so far as to shove him away, before the two of them trudged out to their car.

The ride to the hospital was silent and when they got there, Jack refused to explain how it happened. It wasn’t that he was trying to protect Brock, he was just so exhausted… He didn’t have the energy to make up excuses or answer any questions.

Luckily, it only took fifteen minutes for a doctor to be made available for him. Unluckily, Brock followed him back into the room. And as if his broken nose wasn’t punishment enough, Brock continued to berate him.

“You jus’ dunno when to quit do you?” Brock growled, his arms crossed over his chest. His lip was swollen, the gash that ran through it shining angry and red. Drops of blood stained the collar of his grey shirt and in that moment the two of them stared at each other with equally intense looks of pure hatred.

“What?” Jack snapped, trying desperately to convince himself that Brock wasn’t worth a trip to prison.

“You don’t know how to fuckin’ quit, Jack! You always do this! You piss me off, then gimme that pissy little look when I get mad! This shit wouldn’t happen if you didn’t get me so fucking riled up!” Brock barked and all Jack could do was laugh incredulously, disbelief filling him as he stared Brock in the eye.

“No, this shit wouldn’t happen if you weren’t such a fucking psychopath.” Jack hissed and just like that, Brock was on him again. First, there was a knee to his ribs, then a fist under his jaw, but Jack wasn’t going to lay down and let Brock beat on him anymore. He’d finally decided that everything Brock did to him was complete and utter bullshit. It wasn’t warranted and he wasn’t ungrateful when he got upset about it. And for the love of God, he didn’t fucking deserve it.

So he fought back. He kicked and he growled and he fought with everything he had. Landed a few good hits too. At some point, the doctor must’ve come in to the two of them fighting and called security. They pried Brock off of Jack, his eye swollen shut and his lip re-busted-open. Jack grimaced, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him while he was restrained. But the security guards were too quick to get him out of the room.

The doctor didn’t ask Jack any questions, simply got him cleaned up, reset his nose, and offered him a phone to call someone. Jack accepted the offer with a grateful, albeit quiet, ‘thank you.’ And he sat for an hour contemplating whether or not he should do what he wanted to do. He didn’t really have much of a choice, though, did he?

“Hello?” Answered Steve’s familiar voice over the other line.

“If I ask you to come pick me up from the hospital will you promise not to ask questions?” Jack asked. He never was good at easing into a conversation.

“The hospital? What happened? Are you hurt?” Steve immediately started and all Jack could do was sigh and weigh what options he would have if he decided to hang up.

“Steve, please.” He begged quietly. He wasn’t proud of the pleading tone in his voice but he couldn’t take it back. Couldn’t hide it. Not anymore.

Steve didn’t say anything for a long time. The quiet that fell over them was the kind that was deafening and suffocating at the same time and he wanted nothing more than to scream just to fill the space. But before he could, Steve started talking again.

“I’ll be there.” He said softly.

And he was. In twenty minutes, Steve was at the hospital and the second he saw Jack, it looked like his entire world had been crushed. An odd look of knowing crossed his face as he flicked his head and without a second thought, Jack followed.

After another wordless car ride, Jack found himself in a new place. The unfamiliar space of Steve’s apartment left him feeling vulnerable and exposed, like a rabbit in a field of rabid dogs. But Steve’s gentle hand guided him and it sickened him that his mind was already waiting for that softness to be replaced with anger and pain. But nothing happened and Jack scolded himself for thinking something would.

They sat on the couch with the same silence that had hovered over them on the phone weighing tension on their shoulders and Jack once again felt the urge to make noise so it wouldn’t feel so heavy on his chest. But just as before, Steve came to the rescue to fill the silence before Jack had to.

“I guess this is how Bucky always felt when he saw me all beat up.” Steve tried to chuckle and Jack couldn’t help the little snort that left him.

“Guess so.” Jack grunted in response, sighing as he refused to meet Steve’s eye. It was then that an arm slowly wrapped around him and with cautious curiosity, Jack let it happen, willing himself not to flinch. He half expected other advances to be made but nothing ever came, and he liked it that way.

Steve turned the T.V. on and for a while, Jack zoned out while late night sitcoms flashed on screen with mediocre, cheesy jokes filling the quiet with a comfortable drone. And eventually, as Jack grew too tired to ignore the exhaustion any longer, he rested his head on Steve’s shoulder and found a relieving sense of peace when Steve leaned on him too.

And for the first time since he’d met Brock fucking Rumlow, he felt safe.

#mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #whump #whump prompt #fic sequel #dark fic #hydra trash party #tw: abuse #tw: toxic relationship #jack rollins #brock rumlow #crossbones #hydra husbands #rumrollins #beaufic

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wellkepteden · 5 years

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Prompt 01: Questionnaire

(content warning for: suicide mention and uhhh brain washing? kind of? idk how to warn for that, and some mild like.... referenced medical gore idk)

01. Tell us about your character’s name. Was it given to them or chosen? Does it hold any special meaning? If your character has aliases or nicknames, how did they get them and what do they mean?

“What do you want to be called?”

“I don’t understand the question, sir.”

“Well, I can’t just keep calling you Sixteen.”

“Technically my full designation is PM-16-21A.”

“That’s not a name, you need a name, kid. What do you want to be called?”

The Keeper wasn’t really a man that cared for names, so he never bothered naming his charge either. It wasn’t until Eden reached the cybernetics expert, Sargo Hemmel, that she received a name. It was a long discussion, but ultimately she begged off deciding on a personal name for long enough that he gave up and named her after a dancer he’d known in his youth.

As for surname, Eden had a stronger opinion. It’s really just a pun on the fact that she was partially raised by the Keeper. She thinks she was very well kept. Hemmel tried to convince her to pick a more common name, but she does have her stubborn moments.

02. What is your character’s relationship to their homeworld? Do they hold fond memories of it, or do they hate it? Are they still here, and if not, do they miss it?

Eden didn’t get to see the outside very much while she was on Dromund Kaas. She remembers frequently listening to the rain, but even before she was stolen she was kept carefully away from public view. Now, it’s just a place that’s too dangerous to ever return to. A wistful dream that was never really a reality.

03. Describe your character’s relationship with those who raised them. Was it positive? Negative? Neutral? What sorts of ideologies were they raised with, and do they still stand by them now?

Even without the extra mental programming, Eden is a pretty naturally friendly person. She got along well with the scientists that watched over her in her first few years, and she absolutely adored the Keeper no matter how hard he could be to read and reach. Even though she was almost an adult by the time she reached him, she always considered Hemmel to be just as much of a parental figure, too. Luckily, she’s allowed to keep in contact with him even if the others are now far out of reach.

Growing up, the message was hammered into her that she should never trust anyone and that the world was a harsh place where you could never relax your guard. It never really took. Somehow, Eden remains a font of optimism almost no matter what happens. Just about everyone that helped raise her is convinced it’s going to get her killed someday (if they don’t think it already has).

04. What is your character’s relationship with the Force? Is your character Force-sensitive? Whether or not they are, do they believe in it? Do they lean more towards the dark or the light or are they somewhere in between?

Eden is force sensitive!! Not extremely, but enough that had circumstances been different she probably would have been picked up by either of the large force sensitive organizations. Hilariously, though, despite her own sensitivity to it she’s still not completely convinced it actually exists. She has a hard time with things that she can’t quantify in a way she’s comfortable with, and the implications of the force’s existence and so on make her Very uncomfortable so she tries not to think about it.

For the most part she only really uses it to convince people to help her, or to grab things that are out of reach. She doesn’t do much fighting, and was never really trained, so that’s about the extent of her abilities.

If she was trained more, though, she would definitely lean towards the light side. Not necessarily because of any inherent goodness, but because she’s not near as in touch with her more unpleasant emotions as she would need to be to harness the dark.

05. What three word would you use to describe your character? What three words would your character use to describe themself? What three words would someone close to them use?

me: bubbly, absent, brittle

eden: tall, pale, blonde

hemmel: never shuts up

06. Describe your character’s aesthetic. Do they tend towards fashion or function? Do they like to accessorize? How does this extend into their own personal spaces, such as their home or their workspace?

Eden tends towards whatever is going to help her complete her current job. That pretty much always comes first. Outside of that, though, she does very much like dressing up in things that make her feel good, and will often spend paychecks on nicer clothing. Textures tend to be more important to her than looks, but feeling like she looks good is important too.

Since others are rarely welcome on her ship it’s become one big cozy nest though, honestly. She likes to keep trophies and anything, really, that catches her eye. It’s important to her that she gets to do Whatever she wants with her space, after having grown up without a real space to call her own.

07. What are your character’s vices? Guilty pleasures? Bad habits? Weak spots?

A love for all things luxurious has followed Eden since her first time inside a rich person’s living space. Not that she ever wants to go as wild as so many of them do, but she does have a serious weak spot for the finer things in life. One of the quickest ways to her heart is well crafted gifts, whether they’re food or clothes or something else.

Outside of that, she has a particular fondness for cybernetic modification and loves to be filled with the latest tech. (in more ways than one ;D o god what did i just say)

Also there is her habit of sleeping with... Just..... A Lot of the people she works with. And the people she doesn’t work with. She doesn’t consider any of that a bad habit, though, so I’m not sure it belongs in this section.

08. Tell us about your character’s relationship with food. What are their favorites? Do they enjoy cooking? Are they adventurous? Will they eat absolutely anything or are they hard to please?

Growing up, food was for nourishment exclusively. So, of course, now that she’s on her own she’s abandoned that philosophy completely. Good food, it turns out, is delicious and makes her feel good and Eden is happy to indulge whenever she can. That being said, she doesn’t have all that much experience cooking because she would much rather let others do it for her, BUT she has helped others out a good few times and she loves working in tandem with people in the kitchen.

Also, she’s unlikely to try something new unless someone has specifically recommended it. Getting her to eat something she dislikes is very difficult, and she would much rather avoid doing it to herself.

09. How does your character feel about engaging in relationships—romantic and / or sexual—with others? What is their history like? Do they fall in love easily? Are they constantly in and out of relationships?

Eden loves easily and lightly, and her attitudes about romance and sex are basically identical. Both are very fun! She loves people, and she loves affection, and for her sex is not much more serious than dancing (though she’s never pushy about it, either). Commitment is never on the table, though. From the start of any given encounter, it’s very clearly stated that Eden is probably going to be moving on in days or weeks, off to the next planet and the next job.

She does have a few off and on partners that she falls into familiar patterns with when they occupy the same space, but even those fall much more into a friends with benefits area than anything more serious. If asked, Eden will say very dismissively that she’s loved many times, and it’s true that she comes to love and adore people very easily, but she’s never related to the poems and songs about romance. She’s never really missed someone when they were away from her, or had her heart ache for them. Frankly, she thinks it sounds unpleasant.

10. What is your character’s pain tolerance like? Can they hold their own in a fight, despite injury? If someone hurts them with the aim of gaining information, how much can they take before they cave?

Don’t hurt Eden !! She hates it and will do anything in her power to avoid it. She’s not even particularly into spanking in the bedroom.

Poor Hemmel has to like fully knock her out every time she comes in for an upgrade, too, cause she’s very.... Reactive. Horrible at staying still.

That said, lying and disobeying direct orders already literally physically hurt her so someone wouldn’t need to torture her much to get information out of her. Although, on the other hand, she’s also physically incapable of sharing certain information. Regardless, in the event of an emergency she has several kill switches set up that she can activate to remove herself as a liability if it becomes clear that she’s not going to escape.

11. What is your character’s weapon of choice? Are they more skilled as a melee fighter or do they have more skill with ranged weapons? What’s their fighting style like? What sort of training do they have behind them?

No weapons!! If Eden is in a fight then she’s already failed, no weapons! She keeps a knife on her but it’s a utility tool not for fighting. The Keeper and Hemmel both tried to teach her to fight so she has Some training in blaster handling and etc, but she mostly refuses to even entertain the idea. If there’s any chance of avoiding a fight she’ll take it, every time.

12. Does your character have any words or catchphrases that they say frequently? Tell us about how they picked them up.

When on autopilot she tends towards Very Polite, so between that and her time spent with Hemmel I’m sure she has a number of stock phrases. I just don’t know what they are yet, so I’ll get back to you on that.

Outside of that, though, she does have kind of a particular way of speaking about her. Often, when speaking to someone she'll have an air about her like she’s sharing a very special secret with them, or a joke that no one else gets to be on. A hushed, amused tone comes to her most naturally.

EDIT: i forgot sometimes in the middle of a conversation she’ll get a strong urge to drop in a “For the good of the Empire” but usually she manages to resist...... it’s just muscle memory honestly

13. Tell us about a negative experience your character has had with either the Jedi or the Sith, and how this has affected their standing. Whether currently aligned or unaligned with either faction, if forced to choose, how would they side?

Eden was raised on horror stories about the Sith-- though he worked with them, in his private moments the Keeper was not very fond. Perhaps because he worked alongside so many. However, out in her daily life Eden hasn’t had the opportunity to meet all that many Sith or Jedi individuals, and so remains largely neutral on the subject.

That being said... You can’t miss the destruction that a Sith leaves behind, and that is something she’s witnessed on any number of occasions. So, between the Sith and their horror, and the Jedi who she views as similar to any other authority figure, if forced to choose she would lean towards the Jedi. At least, as far as she knows, they kill people less.

14. How would your character react to seeing a relative or friend on the opposing side of a battle or mission?

If a friend is on the opposite end of a mission, then either Eden is currently working a con with them, or she has royally screwed up. Regardless, it’s not as though she’s going to be any more willing to fight them than she is anyone else.

15. Describe a memory that your character finds embarrassing.

Shame doesn’t actually come all that easily to Eden-- she’s not self conscious about many things. However, there were a couple of moments in which she deeply regretted not doing more research ahead of time. Though he taught her many things, there were ways in which the Keeper neglected her education, and Hemmel didn’t necessarily know that she had those gaps.

What I’m saying is she had Absolutely no idea what she was doing the first time she had sex and was very much trying to learn on the fly, which is a terrible idea and resulted in a very embarrassed and giggly end to the evening.

16. What goals does your character hold for themself and what steps have they taken towards achieving them? How far are they willing to go to reach them? What is their be-all and end-all?

Though she would say that survival and fun are her only goals, Eden is also fervently searching for a way to undo what the Empire did to her head. Cybernetics have proved unhelpful in that area, and it’s difficult to find any experts that don’t have pre-existing Imperial connections. At the moment, her search has stalled and she’s trying very hard not to think about it, but she would do almost anything to de-program herself, barring hurting someone she cared about.

17. What is the one thing your character would change about their life if they were given the chance? What other lives could they have lived as a result?

Honestly, Eden doesn’t much regret the way she was born or the way she was raised, at least not in any way that she would admit to herself. But she does sometimes dream of a universe in which her head and her actions were entirely her own.

18. Living in such a high-conflict time, how does your character feel about doing what they must to survive? Will they hurt or kill others—either directly or indirectly—to protect themself and / or those close to them? If so, do they regret it when all is said and done?

This is an area in which Eden is Highly Conflicted! Honestly, fighting is a very bottom of the list Last Resort for her, and in 99.9% of situations she’s convinced that there are alternatives and that she’ll find them. Usually, she’s right. A good stealth field can solve a lot of problems.

19. What is the biggest problem your character is currently dealing with?

Well! Her head isn’t entirely her own! But that’s more of an ongoing issue. Right now she’s low key wrestling with the morality of continuing to stay aggressively neutral as the galactic fighting seems to be only getting worse instead of better. This may be something she solves by going Robin Hood sometime in the near future, but that’s still hugely up for debate.

20. Give us 3+ headcanons of any length or subject matter.

1. Programming: As referenced multiple times in the questions above, before she was stolen away the Imperials did manage to fuck around with Eden’s brain a fair amount. It’s mildly experimental tech, but so far largely successful. Unfortunately, they didn’t finish in Eden’s case which actually leaves her in considerably more danger than she would be otherwise. To avoid doing damage (psychological or physical), they were moving slowly with the Watcher kids, implementing broad ideas at first and then refining them once they had really settled in.

Eden never got to the refining stage, so she’s left with broad strokes programming like “no lying, no hurting others, no disobeying a direct order, no sharing government secrets”. Had she managed to keep going for another few years, these things would’ve been refined in scope to things like “no lying to a superior officer, no hurting others unless threatened,” and so on. But, it is what it is.

Violating any of these rules, as it is, leaves her with a blinding headache that is very rarely worth it. Luckily, her Keeper was careful to teach her ways of talking and thinking around some of the programming, as like many things of this nature it can be finicky and there are loopholes to be found.

2. Seams: Eden has very many scars, all of them thin and almost invisible, which she affectionately refers to as her ‘seams’. They’re almost exclusively surgery related, long thin lines down her torso and along her limbs where skin was peeled back to allow for cybernetic enhancements. They’re faint enough that it’s uncommon for anyone to notice them unless they’re in bed together, as her doctor does very subtle work.

3. Enhancements: Speaking of the reasons for the seams, though-- having partially grown up with Hemmel, Eden is fully stocked up on high tech enhancements. There’s very little of her body that remains completely untouched, and she does have a fondness for experimental tech which has led to mild short outs in the past. Every few months she returns to Hemmel for a check up and maybe an upgrade, so her list of capabilities is ever-changing.

Some of the things that she’s had for a very long time and will probably always keep, however, include: False eyes to allow for enhanced vision and a useful HUD, several stealth systems that range from masking body heat and vital signs to cloaking her entirely, enhanced hearing and sensors in her fingertips that allow her to collect very specific information, and a few types of ‘kill switches’ as she calls them that can either knock her out or kill her completely should the situation call for it (none of these are able to be activated by anyone but her and maybe Hemmel). None of her tech is dangerous to anyone but herself.

bonus. Give us a list of any length telling us why our “fave is problematic.”

i’m not convinced that she is !!

sure she steals a lot but is that really that bad?

maybe she’s accidentally broken a few hearts but that’s not rly her fault is it?

so what if she has just decided she’s friends with a good number of people without asking for their input??

who cares if her ship is a mess and she might not be able to fight to protect the ones she loves!!

#sidereal prompt 01 #2 #3 #4 #5 #prompt #musing

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trulyhumblenarcissist · 7 years

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Hannibal or Hannigram

Well.. Unfortunately this amusing journey has come to an end. Yesterday I watched Hannibal's last episode and I am still hooked on it.

I'm not a quiet media consumer, I literally devour everything I like (lol), the faster the better. However I wish I was more disciplined and patient this time around, since Hannibal is such a deep and complex work you can't just binge watch it. If you're too hasty you'll end up missing some key points, affecting the whole experience. Every single line the main characters share is full of double meanings, layers on layers of lies and half truths that force you to constantly question your level of understanding.

The light is rarefied, usually diffuse rather than direct, the colors are cool-toned, never loud, with the exception of some intense flashes of red and orange. This contributes to create a deliberately somnolent, dreamlike atmosphere that accompanies the spectator through a meticulous, yet poetic inspection of the human unconscious.

The main subject of analysis is Will Graham, a man so skilled in understanding others the he usually loses himself. His "pure emphaty" is both a gift and a burden, something that makes him probably the most innocent being on hearth, a compassionate and merciful human mirror incapable of really condemn anyone, because he's too prone to wear other skins, even if they belong to serial killers.

On the other hand we have Hannibal Lecter, an extremely conscious and self aware man that uses his strong personality as a defense and attack tool. He secludes his real self into a fake human suit, impervious to any intrusion. This perfect camufflage that acts like a solid shield allows him to undermine other people without being affected. Hannibal is basically the crafty puppet master always in control, while Will needs to be "contaminated" by humanity in order to better comprehend it. Apart from this fundamental difference, however, Will and Hannibal are tremendously similar. Both intelligent and condemned by an overly lucid vision of reality, they "feel things" deeply and can read the minds of other people as printed books. Many common traits attract these two men in a way that seems almost fatal.

Hannibal is soon interested in Will, although initially it is a simple professional curiosity: Will's mind and his peculiar functioning are a frequent topic of conversation in psychiatric circles. Doctors and psychologists wonder whether Will is a genius or a psychopath. Hannibal's approach is completely different. He doesn't seek a demarcation line between madness and sanity, he doesn't believe in psychotherapy either, or at least, he refuses the concept of a treatment that makes people more willing to be subjected to social conventions and morality. Hannibal is definitely a master manipulator, but I don't think he has ever wanted to "shape" his patients. He aims for their darkest fantasies and fuels them, trying to bring them to light. His therapy is like wearing a pair of corrective lenses: you put them on and you see things you originally didn't notice because you couldn't focus well. Things that had ALWAYS been there, in your deepest core, denied and soffocated by fear and shame. Hannibal's velvety voice is never imperative, it drives without force, it creates a sort of psychological malleability that allows you to find your true self, no matter how ugly it is, and leads to catharsis, unlimited freedom and inevitable destruction.

Without any moral qualms everything becomes possible and God himself turns from Judge to loving ally.

On a metaphorical bed of twisted personalities, the troubled relationship between Will and Hannibal develops harshly. It can be considered the true and only protagonist of the story. A LOVEstory in all respects, filled with courtship, burning passion, fear and desire for the other, tenderness, betrayal, redemption... Death.

Honestly I was pretty surprised by how much this mad love between Hannibal and Will seemed "right" to me. There is nothing canonically healthy in their relationship, yet they both find their own safe place in the other. At the end of the day, shouldn't love be just like that? Ideally, love should allow us to acknowledge our most intimate nature, through the expression of desires that we would never reveal to anyone else. Love should make us feel safe and confident thanks to the reassuring awareness of being perfectly understood and accepted for what we are, no filters, no shame. In reality, however, we keep some barriers to protect ourselves and our loved ones. Boundaries makes life apparently easier, creating a comfort zone where we can recognize our intact individuality and protect it from contamination and excessive exposure. Humanity is just as coward as that... But wouldn't it be nice to leave everything behind, every defense, every fiction, every useless embellishment? Wouldn't it be nice to competely surrender to the other (desire becomes surrender and surrender becomes power)? Will's answer to this question is yes, but only after a very rough path.

The first season is characterized by a strong relational asymmetry. Will is completely succube, he is sick and vulnerable, so he is eventually imprisoned for crimes committed by Hannibal. With the second season reality begins to be completely blurred. We are kept in anxious waiting, trying to find out if Will has truly become a killer without remorse, but in reality the most radical transformation is Hannibal's. Such a huge metamorphosis projects itself subtly under our eyes and we're too focused on other things to effectively catch it.

Hannibal lets himself being fooled by Will's farce, he dangerously lowers his defenses and, as it happens to any "common" human being, he falls in love. He falls in love so deeply he begins to project a future with Will, far away from everything and everyone, the two of them caught in an everlasting artistic battle against this vulgar world. Actually the romantic family portrait in Hannibal's fantasies involves two fathers (murderous husbands as Freddie Lounds would say) and a daughter to protect and educate. Abigail represents communion, affection and heredity. All of this comes to a cruel end when Hannibal discovers Will's true intentions. Well, technically Will himself tells Hannibal to run away, but this is not nearly enough to what Hannibal wished for. He was laying bare in front of Will and Will ignored his feelings, or at least he violated his trust.

The third season leads us to a full closure. After a short period of separation Will and Hannibal meet again. They try to get rid of the yoke that binds them through different and useless attempts to kill each other. At some point the end up escaping death together and Will, full of doubts and consumed by a deep discomfort, allows Hannibal to flee. He asks Hannibal never to look for him again and assures that he would do the same. This is Hannibal's equivalent to a terrible defeat, another painful rejection that drives him to a drastic decision: he lets himself being captured so that Will will always know where to find him.

The yoke is still there, around their throats, more lush but equally heavy.

Will tries his best to lead a normal life, he marries a nice woman and even takes the role of the perfect foster parent, but after three years of relative tranquility, the great red dragon makes its appearance and the fragile veil of stability is torn from its sharp claws. The great red dragon is a formidable catalyst: it symbolizes passion and raw nature, eroticism, primordial impulses that express themselves freely, away from the inquisitive eye of the Christian God.

Francis Dolarhyde physically drags Will to a point of no return, he forces Will to decide who should be saved and Will chooses: the last fig leaf rushes to the ground leaving him completely naked and finally free. Will kills the great red dragon that was an almost perfect work of personality construction and by doing so, he acquires enough power to finally abandon the "idea of duty", the preconceived dimension of right and wrong. He embraces both Hannibal and himself at the same time, he forgives and fully understans the indomabile force of his feelings for Hannibal: by loving him he truly loves himself.

"It's beautiful": Will whispers full of emotion, soaked in blood, dark like the night, clinging to freedom and new awareness. He finds his peace after a terrible journey, he finds it in Hannibal and in the stormy waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

I don't think it's possible to write a more poetic death for this two fatal lovers... Hannibal finally reaches Will with the power of his endless, loving stare and Will accepts it as an anchor of salvation that drags him into a place of absolute spontaneity and security, the true paradise on earth.

#Hannibal #hannibal tv #hannibal lecter #will graham #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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How Wynonna Earp is Busting the Moonlighting Curse

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The following contains spoilers for Wynonna Earp season 4.

While we wait for Wynonna Earp to return from its COVID-instigated midseason hiatus, it seems like the perfect time to dig into one of the show’s most complicated and rich topics: The layered relationship between Wynonna Earp and Doc Holliday, and the ways in which the show has committed to telling a love story that goes beyond whether a particular pairing will get together in the end.

Far too many TV series – genre or otherwise – waste far too much screen time delaying the organic progression of their two leads’ romantic relationship. As a result, from pilot to series finale, the redundant “will they/won’t they” relationship question dominates a significant portion of the plot, as marquee couples are inevitably pulled together and pushed apart by circumstance, and the story spins its wheels, afraid to let the would-be couple take “the next step,” usually right up until the series’ final set of episodes.

This happens so often that there’s even a name for it – it’s known as the Moonlighting Curse. The name references the (honestly, incredibly incorrect) assumption that the 1980s comedy-drama Moonlighting suddenly became both boring and bad because it finally paired off its will they/won’t they leads, played by Bruce Willis and Cybill Shepherd after years of mining the sexual tension between the pair.

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Though the true culprit was actually bad writing, the show’s subsequent collapse in terms of both ratings and quality was ultimately blamed by many network higher-ups on the decision to finally pay off the series’ love story well before the end of the show (the characters consummated their relationship at the end of Season 3, and the series ran for two more seasons). And in the many years since, something of a cottage industry of shows has sprung up that seem to exist solely to string along the fans who invest in romance, creating an endless stream of obstacles for their marquee pairings centered around the questions of whether they will “get together” yet afraid to fully confront the idea of what writing a real, complicated relationship might look like.

Thankfully, Wynonna Earp has never been the sort of show that’s afraid of anything.

When Will Wynonna Earp Season 4 Return?

By Kayti Burt

Wynonna Earp Season 4 Belongs to Nicole Haught

By Delia Harrington

In the world of this series, the question of whether Wynonna and Doc love one another isn’t really even worth asking anymore. It’s just a simple fact. Through fights and betrayals, trips to hell, the Garden of Eden, and back again, one of the only true constants of Wynonna Earp has been that, no matter what, Doc and Wynonna are in love.

Even when one – or both – of them was romantically involved (or at least sleeping with) other people for whatever reason, their epic attachment was always bubbling in the background. Everyone in Purgatory knows what this pair means to one another, even when both have done their best to avoid the reality. Granted, neither of them is a particularly easy person to be in a relationship with, which is perhaps why they keep failing to truly get together in a lasting, healthy way despite the complete obviousness of their feelings for one another. And man is it fun to watch, proof that the “will they/won’t they” narrative structure isn’t the only or even best way to tell a love story.

Yes, the two often appear chronically incapable of even really admitting – let alone realistically talking about – their feelings for one another. But Wynonna Earp smartly doesn’t pretend those emotions don’t exist, or that they’re not driving the behavior of both characters. Instead, the show allows their relationship to become a primary driving force of the plot. The fact of their love for one another is not only taken as read, it’s used as a tool by which to further explore who they both are as individuals, in a way that will ultimately allow them to be better both for and with one another.

Both Wynonna and Doc are deeply broken people, who’ve suffered unimaginable loss and pain in their lives. Mutually riddled with trust issues, neither seems to believe they will ever find anything as normal as peace, or that they’re worthy of those they care about most. This low-key self-loathing leads both to make selfish decisions and bad choices, the kind that generally end up hurting themselves more often than they end up helping anyone else.

Because of this, Wynonna tries to drive Doc away, convinced that she doesn’t deserve real love. For his part, Doc behaves recklessly, attempting to prove he’s the monster he’s always feared becoming. (Even allowing himself to be turned into a literal monster at one point.) They argue, they make choices the other doesn’t agree with, they purposefully hurt one another when they’re angry, and they push each other away.

Yet, at no point is any of this behavior meant to make viewers wonder about the reality of their feelings for one another or whether they’ll ultimately be together or not. (No television show is ever going to abandon a couple with this kind of sexual chemistry, and we all know it.) Instead, the issues in their romance are meant to illuminate the things that Wynonna and Doc struggle with individually, and every step they each take toward figuring themselves out is also presented as a step (back) toward one another.

If that’s not incredibly romantic, I’m not sure what is.

Often, the duo have what once again feels like cosmically unfortunate timing – we’re talking like John-and-Aeryn-on-Farscape levels of bad – in which neither of them can seem to get on the same page at the same time. Season 4 is the most heartrending example of this, as their fragile reconnection is shattered when Wynonna decides to shoot Holt Clanton in the back rather than trust the tenuous peace Doc negotiates between their families.

But – again, also like the central love story of Farscape – Wynonna Earp doesn’t act as though these issues are insurmountable, or a potential death knell for the pair fans love. In fact, despite the difficulties the two are sure to face next season, it feels equally obvious that they’ll still find their way back together and work things out in the end. But only once they deal with some of their own issues first. Because I mean, let’s be real, if Doc literally becoming a vampire didn’t faze these two for longer than a handful of episodes, this isn’t likely to do so either.

Yet, the latest rift between the two still makes for supremely compelling television – not because it overtly threatens their love, but because it stems from interior character issues that have nothing to do with their relationship and that can’t be healed by a romance. Whether these two want to be together isn’t the issue here – they clearly do – it’s whether they can be right now in light of the choices they’ve both made that have nothing to do with their feelings for each other.

Wynonna’s reasons for deciding to kill Holt are understandable – if perhaps decidedly unheroic – as is Doc’s conviction that her choice is not only cowardly but will surely escalate the same blood feud that he himself now regrets starting back in Tombstone. But despite the fact that the midseason finale ends with both characters moving away from one another, physically and emotionally speaking, both are still on similar narrative journeys, questioning who they are if their previously established identities as the Earp heir and the fastest gunslinger in the West no longer apply.

Wynonna and Doc’s relationship has taken something of a backseat in Season 4 thus far, allowing Wynonna Earp to center WayHaught’s story and explore Nicole’s lingering trauma from the eighteen months in which she had to survive in Purgatory on her own. But the pairing still feels as necessary and relevant to the story the show is telling as they ever have been. And, despite their current situation, it seems more obvious than ever that their paths will ultimately not only lead back to one another but to better versions of them both. This isn’t a will they/won’t they question so much as a matter of how and when.

Wyndoc is the grand and (thus far) tragic love story of the Ghost River Triangle, a star-crossed pair who share a child, a complicated family entanglement going back hundreds of years, and a love of continual self-sacrifice in the name of others. (And also, they hunt demons!) But Wynonna Earp isn’t content to simply throw up unnecessary narrative obstacles in their path for the sake of dragging out a happily ever after. Instead, the show acknowledges Doc and Wynonna’s obvious feelings, while simultaneously asking why they can apparently do anything together but figure out how to love one another the way they both deserve.

This sort of romantic introspection – and acknowledgment that love really doesn’t instantly conquer all – is an important and often ignored part of a couple’s story, and can be just as compelling as the will they/won’t they dance that many other pairings before Wyndoc have been forced to engage in. It takes work – on yourself and on your relationship – to build something that really lasts, and Wynonna Earp’s decision to show us that that can be something really ugly and uncomfortable is as important as the happily ever after part we fantasize about. Wynonna and Doc will absolutely find their way back together again – but this time they’ll be stronger for it when they do.

The post How Wynonna Earp is Busting the Moonlighting Curse appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 7 years

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Episode 63: Cry for Help

“I don’t understand.”

Pearl has done some awful things in Steven Universe. She nearly kills Steven in Space Race, and even if we ignore the rocket malfunction, her plan was to steal him from Earth for fifty years under false pretenses. She nearly kills Steven again in Rose’s Scabbard through inaction during a fit of furious sorrow. She indoctrinates Connie to see herself as fodder to be sacrificed at a moment’s notice. And she only apologizes in one of these cases.

Before Cry for Help, the show seemed pretty lax with Pearl’s tendency to lash out at others when in pain. While her grief explains her harmful decisions, it also appears to excuse them: most of our focus is on the suffering leading to her actions, not the victims of these actions. Steven comforts her every time she endangers him or his friends, which is nice of him, but suggests that his own feelings are secondary to hers.

It’s honestly reminiscent of Island Adventure, where the show refused to acknowledge the severity of Sadie’s physical and mental abuse. The difference is that Pearl is shown to be in the wrong, while Sadie is portrayed as a hero despite abusing Lars, but it’s still troubling to see Pearl more or less get away with hurting people on a recurring basis.

But it was all a glorious ruse. The Week of Sardonyx is here, groundbreaking for its depiction of a brutal rift that has almost nothing to do with the show’s title character, taking full advantage of the Steven Bomb format to tell a long-term self-contained story about what happens when Pearl finally gets called out for her toxic behavior.

If this story arc was condensed to a single episode, we would certainly spend it watching Pearl and Garnet. But with extra time to set the tone and understand the stakes, we instead see Pearl’s instigating betrayal from Amethyst’s point of view as the latter faces similar fusion woes. The focus on Amethyst is absolute (she even gets a song!), and it makes Pearl’s actions sting so much harder when her perennial rival’s reaction isn’t anger, or glee at the opportunity to tattle, but a deep and heretofore unseen discomfort.

Amethyst, who uses motor oil as a condiment and hoards literal garbage, is ashamed of Pearl. But even so, she comes to Pearl’s defense after outing her deception, because unlike Garnet she can understand the rationale behind Pearl’s actions: Amethyst and Pearl both see Garnet as strong, and themselves as weak. Amethyst misses being Sugilite, conflating fusing with Garnet as a means to share her strength, so she gets why Pearl misses being Sardonyx.

In a conflict between Pearl and Garnet, the most obvious approach is to have our third Gem act as a mediator, but I’m so glad the show developed Amethyst to fit organically into that role. Not just because she’s secretly the most sensitive Gem, or because she understands Pearl without condoning her behavior, but because she’s spent Steven’s whole life as a bridge between him and the other Gems. When you’ve got two close friends coming to a head, there’s nobody better to have in your corner than a middle child.

Amethyst's other big role is as a counterpoint to the notion that being sad excuses selfishness or cruelty. Cry for Help encapsulates the series-wide reactions that Pearl and Amethyst have had to sorrow, and seeing both at the same time removes any doubt that Pearl's approach is unhealthy, even if Amethyst’s is far from perfect.

When Pearl gets especially sad, her self-loathing fuels her self-centeredness until she stops caring about how anybody else feels. This is obviously bad news for the people around her, but eventual remorse over her actions fuels her self-loathing even further, and the fire just keeps burning. Everybody loses when Pearl is sad.

But look at what happens when Amethyst is sad in Tiger Millionaire, On the Run, Maximum Capacity, and Reformed: her first response is to show off, usually to Steven. She longs to be included, to be looked up to, so she becomes hyper-aware of how she’s perceived. She plays up the attributes she desires in herself (respective to those episodes: strength, belonging, the ability to chill out without thinking about sad stuff, and a better sense of self) in hopes of hiding her vulnerabilities. Or perhaps just to cope? I wouldn’t want to get all psy-cho-logical on her.

Amethyst and Pearl both struggle with self-esteem. And their actions have some overlap: Pearl taking Steven with her in Space Race sounds like something Amethyst might do, and Amethyst ignoring Steven to hang out with Greg in Maximum Capacity sounds like something Pearl might do (minus Greg, of course). But the intents that prompt these actions are night and day. Pearl wants to punish herself and Amethyst wants to feel comfortable with herself. Pearl is depression and Amethyst is anxiety.

And then we have Garnet, whose healthiness has always been portrayed as a universal positive. She’s strong in every sense of the word, which is great, right? It makes her the bedrock of the team, and gives her an ironclad sense of right and wrong with the conviction to back it up.

But it can also make her oblivious to suffering.

Nothing excuses what Pearl does to Garnet (which we’ll get to, don’t worry), but Cry for Help is part of a long line of episodes displaying the downside of Garnet’s strength: an inability to understand what it’s like to be weak, leading to many moments of callousness that honestly remind me of Pearl at times.

Remember how in Serious Steven she thinks plowing through the dungeon is the best option, even though Steven is clearly rattled? Remember how in Beach Party she’s incapable of caring about wrecking the Pizzas’ sign? Remember how in Monster Buddies she can’t see that her gauntlet is what’s bothering Centy? Remember how in Warp Tour she’s more interested in humoring Steven than taking his worries seriously? Remember how in Love Letters she prefers absolute bluntness to a polite but firm rejection? Remember how in Reformed she gets aggravated with Amethyst instead of exploring the root of the problem, leaving it up to Steven to figure it out? Remember how literally one episode ago in Chille Tid she ignores Pearl’s pleas to help out? Is it really any wonder she can’t see that Pearl and Amethyst are upset in Cry for Help?

This is a huge gap for a character that’s all about understanding, and it’s the reason the Week of Sardonyx is important for Garnet beyond making her a victim. Spoiler alert for Inside Out, but sadness is critical for nurturing empathy, and Garnet's general lack of sadness can make her miss when her friends are upset without...well, without a cry for help. There’s a reason it takes defusing into Ruby and Sapphire for her to start processing what happened to her, because Ruby and Sapphire are a lovable bundle of neuroses next to Garnet’s cool calm.

But there’s also a reason defusing into Ruby and Sapphire doesn’t directly lead to Garnet forgiving Pearl, because holy shit Pearl. Once again, fusion’s value as a multi-faceted metaphor is crucial to the tone of the show: there’s plenty of sexual innuendo to it at times, particularly in Cry for Help’s dances, but the fact that it stands in for relationships in general instead of just sex is all that prevents Pearl from being a literal rapist. Not only is consent important, but we were explicitly reminded of this only three episodes ago in Keeping It Together. It would’ve been bad enough if Pearl did this with Amethyst or Steven, but Garnet is particularly concerned with consent in regards to fusion.

Cry for Help tones down the drastic implications of Pearl’s betrayal by giving Garnet a somewhat childish initial response (“You tricked me!”), but from there it pulls no punches portraying Garnet’s righteous fury. Amethyst’s defense only makes her angrier, because it doesn’t matter if Pearl had a motive for fusing with her under false pretenses, and it doesn’t matter that Pearl feels bad about it. Even if it isn’t read as sexual assault (and I genuinely don’t think it’s meant to be, given how the situation resolves), Pearl’s actions are a violation of Garnet, their relationship, and fusion itself. It’s the dark side of the insecurity that fueled the longing hopefulness of sister episode Coach Steven, and it packs the biggest emotional wallop of the series thus far.

There’s a feeling of hopelessness to the end of Cry for Help that I deeply appreciate, because really, where do we go from here? It’s unlikely that the show would break up the Crystal Gems permanently at this point, but there’s also no real reason for Garnet to ever trust Pearl again. Garnet’s still mad (and she should be), Pearl’s a wreck (and she should be), and Amethyst and Steven have no idea what to do. Cliffhangers like this are rare on Steven Universe, but it does so well at capturing the awkward, awful aftermath of a friend wronging a friend.

Because despite all of this, Pearl is still Garnet’s friend. And I’d argue that despite all of this, Pearl is still a good person. In fact, I’d argue that Pearl being a good person is the most important thing about the Week of Sardonyx. It’s easy to tell a story about a bad person doing a bad thing, but most people see themselves as good, and most people have done at least one bad thing. If we write Pearl off as a monster and leave it at that, what room is there for us to learn? If doing one horrible action is enough to make you a villain, what hope is there for anyone?

I say this while knowing that I’m actually pretty quick to condemn people forever for certain actions: namely, try as I might, I struggle to see any reason for any rapist to be allowed to live. Like, to the point where my first wish if I ever nabbed a genie would be for every rapist on the planet to vanish and get replaced with a note that says “Don’t mourn for me, I was human garbage.” (Obviously there would be many footnotes for this wish; for instance, if a rapist is a pilot I don’t want to endanger folks on a flight, so extra magic would have to intervene. I have really thought this out, I got the footnotes all set, I am ready to find a genie.)

If that’s how I feel, how is it that I have such empathy for Pearl, even though I’m completely on Garnet’s side? It’s not that she’s fictional, because I’m not huge on fictional rapists either. And it’s not that her action isn’t actually rape, because it’s still a gigantic violation. So I honestly don’t know. But Steven Universe is capable of making me examine how I view the world in a way few shows can, and even if I don’t think the Week of Sardonyx quite sticks the landing, the opening is appropriately wrenching stuff.

(With funny weeping foodstuffs to keep the younger audience from getting too upset. Not the subtlest subtext in the world, but I’ve got no beef with kids’ shows keeping things grounded for kids.)

Future Vision!

Nothing too direct, but the Week of Sardonyx’s angst returns with a vengeance in the Breakup Arc immediately following Wanted. Multiple episodes of working through an argument? Check. A sense of betrayal involving fusion? Check (sorta). A resolution brought about by a common enemy? Check. The biggest difference (beyond the shifted focus to Steven) is that the Breakup Arc is more invested on making you miserable on an episode-by-episode basis, making it even harder to watch. Want a break from Steven and Connie not talking? Have a secondary breakup between Peridot and Lapis!

Pearl’s similarity with Spinel makes the movie’s exploration of a suffering Gem’s toxic reaction to pain a fascinating companion piece to the Week of Sardonyx. The major difference is that Pearl hurts others due to selfish thoughtlessness and Spinel’s goal is hurting others, but both have great reasons to feel terrible, neither has a great reason to inflict this pain upon others, and both need to make a change.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

This is the episode in my “Love ‘em” category that I’ve watched the least, because it’s a tough one. I more appreciate Cry for Help than enjoy it, because it’s not meant to be enjoyable, but it’s still worth putting up there because man does it nail the tone.

Top Fifteen

Steven and the Stevens

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

The Return

Jailbreak

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Winter Forecast

Chille Tid

Keeping It Together

On the Run

Warp Tour

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

The Test

Future Vision

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

We Need to Talk

Cry for Help

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

No Thanks!

4. Horror Club 3. Fusion Cuisine 2. House Guest 1. Island Adventure

#cry for help #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

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heartsofstrangers · 6 years

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What has been one of the most challenging things that you’ve experienced or are currently experiencing?

“I’d say my biggest challenge would have to be my back issues.”

Tell me about those.

“When I was a teenager, I was taking growth hormones, and they did say that one of the side effects might possibly be health issues that would occur a lot sooner than they would to the average person, say at sixty or seventy, I might deal with it around forty or fifty. Being thirty-five, it’s happened a lot sooner than I thought. I have back issues and circulation issues. Mostly with issues that wouldn’t normally occur to someone my age.

“That, I’d have to say, is my biggest challenge, because when I get up and do things like protest, it really challenges me. It makes me want to fight, because even though my back hurts, it’s really rewarding to see that people are seeing the truth. It’s just the biggest inspiration for me, to see that others are being made aware that the establishment and our current government are very crooked. People need to know and stand up and say, “No more.” We need a new government. That doesn’t mean violent revolution. It just means, basically, hiring better, newer people who are more capable of running this government without corruption. That’s how I feel about it.”

I want to go back to your back history. Tell me why you began using growth hormones.

“Physically, I appeared to be eight when I was twelve years old, and when I was thirteen, I didn’t appear much older; I still appeared to be about eight and a half. Physically I was growing much slower than I should have. They said there was a risk with it, but I didn’t mind.

“When I was twelve and looked eight and a half, basically my parents were concerned about my growth issues, so they took me to a doctor, and the doctors told me what the risks were. I was willing to take it, because I was at a time where I couldn’t understand why the females of my same age range were just ignoring me. It was explained to me that they weren’t interested in preteens, and I looked like one, so I was like, ‘Well, I need to do something about that.’

“It ended up being that I took the risk. It’s well worth it though, because the challenges that come with it are quite rewarding. The results if I pass the challenges are rewarding, you know?”

Were you teased because of your size in school?

“All the time.”

So, here you are today, suffering health issues because of, it sounds like, feeling insecure about your size at an early age. Do you have any regrets?

“No.”

No?

“None whatsoever.”

When did you start developing some of the symptoms of your back issues?

“I’d say about twenty-three, twenty-four was when it started happening. It wasn’t too bad back then, but as the lower lumbar disc deterioration disease progressed, it seemed to get to the point where I couldn’t function, and I ended up having to take pain medication to maintain it. But even so, I’m still fully functional and grateful for that. God has blessed me with that.”

It sounds like you may have gone through a period of—I would assume—depression or something, not being able to function as you wanted to. Tell me about that.

“It was quite a struggle. I have to say the biggest thing I struggled with during that time was feeling incapable of doing anything, being in a position where I couldn’t do what everyone else my age was doing, and wanting to. Thinking how horrible it is to be stuck in that place.

“I overcame it, eventually, mostly through a belief system. I practice Messianic Judaism, and that has gotten me through a lot, because there was hope and there is healing. I was in a wheelchair at one time. I was paraplegic for a while. I think that’s the correct term, because it was from the waist down I was having issues, but when I started putting God in my life and practicing Messianic Judaism, that’s really what brought me out of the whole mess that I was in—the emotional mess as well as the physical mess. It doesn’t matter what anybody else says; God does exist, and he shows himself in ways that are so miraculous that it’s mind-blowing. He does heal the blind, makes the blind see. He makes those unable to walk, walk, and I’m living proof of that, and that’s what’s gotten me through to where I am now.”

Was there ever a point where you felt you wanted to give up and couldn’t do this anymore?

“Yeah, a couple of points. There were a couple of points where I just said, ‘Forget about it. Whatever happens, happens. If I lay here, I’ll defecate on myself or starve to death, whatever; I don’t care.’ My brother introduced me to God, and that’s when I started to see that there was something more to life than just misery and pain. My doctor said I should go there and see them one more time even though I had already given up, and I said if not for me, then at least for the family, and so I did. Through his powers of persuasion and lots of prayer, miraculously, the doctor decided that they’d look at it and start giving me physical therapy and pain medications. Things like that actually helped with the healing process. Sure, I still have back pain to this day, but it’s not nearly what it was, when it was crippling and disabling to the point where I couldn’t function.”

At the time when you were struggling, would you say you were focused more on the pain and what you could not do instead of some of the blessings and gifts that were before you?

“Yeah. That’s pretty accurate.”

How have you shifted focus? You mentioned that you brought God into your life in this way. What are some of the other ways that you sort of focus on the good things and the blessings and the gifts, even though there are still things that ail and challenge you?

“The biggest thing that keeps me focused is the reward of what comes after. This may be a struggle—this may be a hell, even, for some—but if we get through it trying to bless as many in our path as possible, the rewards are going to be so massive that we don’t feel any pain. It’s just, man, these mansions here are nothing in comparison to the ones we’ll get.

“And it’s not just getting things, either; it’s more than that. It feels good to serve others, because when I serve myself, there’s a temporary satisfaction, but when I serve others, which is what Messianic Judaism teaches me, it’s a longer-lived satisfaction. I get to see others’ lives get better. You get to improve others’ lives, and sometimes even see the results with a small action, like giving twenty dollars to a hungry man at the bus stop. It makes all the difference in the world when he’s probably sitting there thinking, ‘Nobody cares about me,’ or ‘I’m gonna starve to death. I’m too tired to get up off this bench to beg for money and too ashamed to even try.’

“I’ve been there too, so I know those thoughts. When I saw that hungry man on the bench, give him twenty dollars and know that he doesn’t have to feel that way anymore—when you’re on the receiving end of somebody just giving out of the kindness of their heart for no apparent reason that you know, you know the other person feels that way just by the expression on their face, and that is way more satisfying than any sort of self-satisfaction. That’s the only way I can describe it, and that’s what keeps me going, that drive to make other people’s lives as satisfying as mine was. As mine still is, really.”

Is it fair to say that maybe the darkest hours of your life have brought you to your brightest moments now?

“Yeah. It is definitely fair to say that, because we all have to hit rock bottom to see how good we have it. We really do.”

So it’s made you appreciate life.

“Oh yeah. Life is a beautiful thing, and there are other things that the scripture teaches me. If I am in a moment of pain, and I’m so focused on that pain and worried about myself, all I have to do is work out and it’s everywhere. The trees are breathing out oxygen that we breathe in. The ground is full of living creatures. If we don’t focus on ourselves, and we focus on outward, we begin to see how beautiful life really is.”

Did going through those times strengthen you and give your courage to face others struggles as well?

“Absolutely it has.”

It sounds like it’s also created a sense of empathy and compassion for others.

“Yeah, because when you struggle through the pain and misery yourself, you begin to realize that others are going through the same thing, and you look at the bigger picture. It’s not just about me; it’s about everybody. It’s like that song says, ‘Lean on me when you’re not strong. I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on.’ That’s the way we should all be, because, shoot, if we were all to lean on each other in hard times, I guarantee there wouldn’t be hard times anymore.”

What advice would you offer to somebody else struggling out there, reading this interview?

“I would suggest that they read the book of Matthew in the Bible and Proverbs and Psalms. One of those three, if not all three, because those were the most inspiring for me, because I could most relate to them. Also, they have such excellent advice on life in general, you know? Things that make you not focus on the immediate pain and suffering that we’re going through and even improve our lives and make it so that others don’t have to go through it as well.”

When we started this interview, you were wearing your mask. At a point during this interview, you took it off. What inspired you, what moved you to take it off?

“Well, because this is more personal, and I felt it would be disrespectful to share a personal experience indirectly or impersonally.”

It seemed to me profound. Often when I do these interviews, whether or not a person is physically, literally wearing a mask, figuratively they are removing the mask by opening up and sharing something very vulnerable and personal with me, so it was fitting that a few questions into it, you actually took off your literal mask.

“Yeah, really, I have nothing to hide. The reason I wear this is it’s symbolic; it’s representative of all of us, we the people. That’s what Anonymous is about.”

Do you believe that we’re connected to each other, as human beings to nature?

“Absolutely. Interconnected with everything, even the inanimate, unliving objects, for that matter. I think that energy itself connects everything. It’s so complex and interwoven that our mortal minds couldn’t even comprehend it, but our souls understand it, and that’s why we yearn for it, I think. Even though our physical minds don’t understand, our souls are so much more complex and deep, and they tell our minds and bodies to yearn for it.”

Do you have a favorite quote you’d like to share?

“Hmm, that’s a tough one. I’d really have to think on that one, because there’s a lot of them, but one in particular . . . So many to go through. I read a lot of books. I think it would have to be by Terry Goodkind, but I don’t want to misquote him. I have a bit of a memory issue, so if you’ll pardon me while I look it up . . .

“It’s actually Wizard’s First Rule by Terry Goodkind. I’d have to say that’s my favorite, because it applies to life in general. I believe it’s similar to the statement that the best intentions are the road paved to hell, or something like that. Sorry. And it’s appropriate, considering what I’m doing, too. It says, ‘People are stupid. They will believe a lie because they want to believe it’s true, or because they’re afraid it might be true.’”

What does that mean to you?

“Well, I don’t agree with the statement that people are stupid, because they’re actually quite intelligent. It’s just a lot of them live in denial. I do agree with the part that says, ‘They will believe a lie because they want to believe it’s true, or because they’re afraid it might be true.’

“For example, what it says on my sign here is ‘Child Protective Services kidnaps our children without legal cause or any warrants.’ If anybody else did that to our children, they would be arrested without a moment’s notice, and yet these people go into hospitals and take babies. People believe that CPS is good for society because they want to believe that lie. They want to believe it’s true or are afraid. Fear runs society too much nowadays. We need to live more on love, less on fear, because the more we live on love, the better life will be, and these warmongers, these kidnappers, anybody else causing harm to us can’t have the power they have if we don’t fear. They will end up being the fearful ones, because love is way more powerful than fear ever could be.”

How has it felt to share these experiences and thoughts with me?

“Liberating. It’s good to know that others will be able to be inspired, because that’s what I live for. I live to serve; I live to serve others, and if I can serve others with this and help improve their lives somehow with something that I said, praise God.”

#masks #vulnerability #recovery #courage #heartsofstrangers #everyhearthasastorytotell #yourstorywillinspireothers #yourenotalone #authenticity #resilience

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bentonpena · 5 years

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Mental Illness – No Shame – Lots of Hope via @alanbleiweiss

Mental Illness – No Shame – Lots of Hope via @alanbleiweiss http://bit.ly/34pfQKV

Clinical depression (diagnosed by a professional). Panic attacks. Blackouts.

Suicidal thoughts and planning. Destructive societal behavior.

PTSD. OCD. Drug addiction (including alcohol).

Nine years of recovery. Nine-year relapse.

Second round of recovery.

Now approaching 15 years clean and free of “drugs.”

The list of psychological challenges and illnesses I have lived through in my life is long.

Trigger Warning: This post briefly describes severe abuse as a child, and goes on through to suicidal thoughts. If you are not prepared to read even brief content about a little child being severely abused, or how that eventually led to considering suicide, please skip this section and go on to “From Surviving to Thriving“!

Early Environmental Influence

While at least some of my issues may, in fact, have genetic origins to varying degrees, I have come to learn that we can be shaped and molded based on our environment. And for me, that all started as a result of having been severely abused – physically, psychologically, emotionally and spiritually throughout my childhood by my parents.

I was physically beaten routinely. Belts. Wooden hangers. Hands. Whatever was convenient. And crying, yeah that cliché “This hurts me more than it hurts you” was said often. As was “If you don’t stop crying, I’ll give you something to cry about.”

I was also told at various times growing up:

“You’re not good enough.”

“You don’t deserve ____.”

“Look what you did to your mother – why do you get her so upset?”

“You’ll never have anything in life.”

“It’s my house, and if you don’t like it, you can leave.”

One of the worst, from my mother: “Don’t argue with your father – he’s right even when he’s wrong…”

The chaos and abuse at home were only reinforced by being bullied from elementary school until my teen years.

I was taught “turn the other cheek,” “don’t cause trouble at school,” and concepts along those lines.

I was never taught how to stand up for myself early on, as a human being. Never taught at that age any concept of self-worth or self-esteem.

So it was almost guaranteed that I’d seek to escape from that hell.

The Early Years of Insanity

My earliest escape was daytime, waking life blackouts. As a very small child, I would literally be doing one thing somewhere in the house, and next thing I knew, I was outside, doing something completely different.

When my parents would have friends over, I would hide behind the couch, in fear.

I had nightmares that some evil being would come through the window to attack me.

Sugar became a drug. The adrenaline rush in pouring sugar onto sugar-infused cereal was an addiction.

Daydreaming about a better life became a constant outlet.

Escalated Escape

Eventually, escape for me transitioned into schoolwork. I found that if I did really well in class, my teachers would praise me, show me appreciation. So that became a drug.

Seeking approval actually got results somewhere. I craved it. Obsessed over obtaining it.

Except as the years passed, and the abuse got worse, none of those escapes were enough anymore. And that led to drugs. I fit in. Got acceptance. And at the same time, could numb my emotions and thoughts.

Any drug I was exposed to. Could get access to. For me, one drug didn’t lead to another. It was a free-for-all of access and impact. Its use grew though – in volume and frequency.

I almost didn’t graduate from high school because at that point I was “tuned out” – from a straight-A student to failing because of not even showing up at class.

From there, I ended up creating a path of chaos wherever I went with jobs, friendships, everything, and anything.

I got arrested for “minor” infractions more than once. That happens when you are “tuned out” all the time, and when you end up in places you don’t belong, with people you aren’t going to win societal participation awards among.

Life eventually hit bottom (my first of multiple bottoms). Nothing worked anymore. None of my escape mechanisms could numb the pain or internal turmoil.

So I thought suicide was my only way out. Tried planning it out. Yet never did come up with a method I could guarantee would work.

That was 1986. I was 27, and it was the darkest period of my life.

From Surviving to Thriving

Yet I stand here today, writing this post, to say that with a lot of help, support and effort, I’ve overcome so much over so many years.

No, my life is not “perfect” these days.

All of those mental health challenges still, even now, have a residual impact on who I am and how I face the world.

And I can, in the blink of an eye, end up falling into the chaos and insanity at any time for the rest of my life because some of it became so ingrained in me over so many years, that there’s a residual set of beliefs right there.

Just beneath the surface. That close to wanting to take control again.

That’s how it is with addiction, and that’s how it is with the psychological parameters that allow addiction to awaken even when we “know better.”

It’s why, after my first nine years clean from drugs, I relapsed. And spent nine more years out there, fighting the demons.

And while I am approaching 15 years clean this time around (if I can make it, one day at a time until October 27), recovery is still not guaranteed to last forever.

There is no cure when the damage is so deep. There is only mitigation, alleviation, and remission.

In spite of that, I’ve learned to build a pretty amazing, miraculous and spectacular life for myself overall.

I’ve gotten to travel much of the world – consciously chose to live a nomadic life, moving from city to city, state to state every couple years until I went and bought a house at Lake Tahoe this year, where I now reside.

I’ve built a reputation as one of the industry’s top site auditors, gotten to do that work on hundreds of small, medium, and global enterprise sites.

I’ve established lifelong friendships with industry peers and been able to give back in countless ways to the search community and to people in need out in the world.

I often have very good days.

Productive. Happy. Serene.

Even when I have bad days, they are not anywhere near as bad as they used to be because I have tools and resources and an entire support network.

And I have been practicing their use for so long at this point, that most of the time, the noise doesn’t get very loud, if it shows up at all.

When it shows up, I know what to do about it.

That doesn’t mean I instantly take positive action all the time.

Some days, it is a struggle.

Yet I know better now. I have practiced and done the work enough, and gotten the positive results. So there’s much more balance in my life.

Overcoming Mental Illness, Addiction & My Past Demons

How have I done that? How have I been able to overcome such crazy obstacles and challenges on so many levels?

Caveat: What I share here is what has worked for me, what continues to work for me. I cannot possibly say, with absolute certainty, that any of this will guarantee to work for you. And I don’t go into the details here as there’s too much of it.

What I do know though is this – there are many ways to achieve success in SEO. So too, there are many ways to overcome challenges arising from mental illness, addiction, and other outward signs of internal chaos.

So please understand that if these things help you, that’s a blessing. And if they don’t, it does not mean there is no hope. You just may need to find something else that works for you.

And as my brother told me many years ago when I was at a psychological bottom – as long as you have a breath left in your body, there is hope.

First Rule: No Shame

First, I’ve done so by not accepting that any of these issues are something to be ashamed of.

There is no such thing as perfect except in that every human has challenges. Every person suffers from the broader “human condition” called life.

Anybody who ridicules, stigmatizes, or disrespects mental illness, for example, or physical limitations others have, is themselves, suffering from a form of mental defect.

Maybe it’s “only” a lack of empathy. Maybe it’s something more insidious.

Regardless of the cause, people who fail to respect others who are not like them physically, intellectually, or emotionally, are no different than those who fail to respect others due to color of skin, sexuality, or any other major life framework.

That does not mean I am free from embarrassment, fear, guilt or shame all the time.

Heck, even writing this post, fear kicked in.

What if I allow this to be posted on a top industry site? Will people still want to hire me for audit work?

Will they think I am unstable, or incapable of helping them given how messed up my life has been at times?

Yet when that does come up, I understand and recognize that the need to share my truth with others is more important to me than some unrealized fear.

I cannot keep my path in darkness. It needs to be brought into the light.

One of the most important things that have helped me countless times over the years has been learning that others have gone through the fires and come out on the other side.

So I believe I have a moral, human responsibility to write this. And guess what?

Anybody who reads this and ends up running away from me, well, that’s on them. They’re not wrong or bad or evil for doing so if anyone does that. They too are only human.

And the world is big enough that I will be okay. My entire identity is not, these days, wrapped in having to get approval from every single person I encounter.

In fact, I’m also writing this because others in the industry have, themselves, been vocal about mental illness and other life challenges. So they themselves, have given me inspiration, and courage and hope that writing this is OK.

Second Rule: We Need Others & We Need to Take Responsibility

Second, I’ve learned that “I can’t, we can.”

One of the biggest character defects I developed growing up was the belief that I had to be the one to resolve all of my own problems in life.

That I couldn’t ask for others to help me, let alone accept it.

I had to figure out what to do in everything – which, in my case, was made better and worse at the same time because I happen to be highly intelligent, and I also suffered from “the great I Am” syndrome (thinking I was the center of the universe).

So I used to think “if only this outside situation or circumstance will change, everything will be better.” And then I’d go and find a way to make that change quite often.

Except I never, back then, looked inside, to see what my role in any of it was.

I never stopped to consider that I had a broken picker.

Broken relationship picker. Broken job picker. Broken societal participation picker.

I also had deeply a flawed understanding of how to participate in society and didn’t understand humility can coexist with confidence.

As a result, while things would appear better on the surface, for a while, I inevitably ended up having it blow up in my face.

Relationships fell apart. I’d quit or get fired from job after job.

I’d end up in dangerous situations and circumstances within society. Ended up on death’s doorstep many times.

I call it “hell on earth.”

So I eventually learned “wherever you go, there you are,” and “when one finger is pointing outward, three more are pointing inward.”

Yet I also needed to learn that I am not “The great I Am.”

I am not God. Or a god. I am not the center of the universe. I don’t have all the answers.

This means I need to learn to seek out those who have been where I was, or I am, and who themselves, have overcome some aspect of what I have yet to overcome. And, or, for different needs, I need to turn to professionals.

Sometimes, you really do need search science when your blogging friend can’t even identify with why you aren’t ranking organically, right?

So too, sometimes we need medical professionals or clinicians regarding our mental health needs.

Even a recovering addict needs pain medications sometimes, like after major surgery.

I need to reach out to potential support and help resources, when appropriate.

And if they are willing, and able to offer any support, guidance or help, I need to be honest, open-minded, and willing myself.

Honest about what’s really going on. And about what I don’t know or understand.

Open-minded to a better way to live. And to the possibility that they may have answers I seek.

Willing to change. Willing to take responsibility for my actions. Willing to learn.

Third Rule: It’s Simple, Not Easy

Third – when it comes to mental illness, addiction, behavioral patterns that need to be overcome, the process is almost always simple.

Whether it’s taking certain steps physically, mentally, psychologically or spiritually, they’re just steps.

Footwork. Effort. Sequential change in how we think, what we think, how we feel, what we feel. Or behavior modification.

Yet the deeper the wounds, the more complex the layers of issues, the heavier the load – which means that even simple steps can feel monumental.

And the more years we’ve lived with these challenges, the more ingrained our behavior has become based on raw survival learning. How to survive while suffering internally. Which means we have established, maybe even carved into proverbial stone, rules we live by. Entire belief systems on how to exist.

And that in turn, has led, for many of us, into creating, then maintaining our entire life identity around what just may turn out to be a complete misunderstanding of how we need to live this life.

So it’s possible that at the mere thought of needing to change any of that, our fight-or-flight survival mechanisms may kick into high gear.

We may think we want to change something, on the surface. We may feel there must be a better way to live. We may say we are willing to change.

Yet we may not be ready. Or willing.

Fourth Rule: Accepting Reality, Resisting Change

When push comes to shove, subconsciously, we may panic, else need to accept that everything we came to believe about our selves and our world, needs reevaluation.

That, quite often, can be the scariest concept we face in our lifetimes. The notion that “what worked for me all these years may have been completely invalid,” is heavy.

Yet for someone like me, whose life was constant chaos, turmoil, and insanity, none of it was truly “working.” I was barely surviving.

Heck – even with several years of growth and awakening to a new way of life, and yes, even sometimes, to this very day, while the chaos has been lowered, the insanity “mostly” eliminated, those old beliefs still sit there, on the sidelines, waiting to jump up and take charge again.

The more I resist acceptance about the truth of my situation, the more likely I’ll tell myself “hey, don’t change – you got this far without that abracadabra or woo woo nonsense.”

When that happens, I’ve come to learn to listen inside. Where is that coming from? Is that from my past? Quite often, when I need answers to that, I go to my intuition.

Some people refer to intuition as “a gut feeling.” Others call it God, or Holy Spirit. Others still, refer to it as wisdom. I even turn to “God” sometimes. Which is not a religious god for me.

God, to me, is its own complex notion of endless wisdom, love, positive direction. None of the condemnation stuff. Whatever label you put on any of it, that is where to turn.

Yet we also need to avoid becoming trapped in self-convincing con artist level internal dialogue. Because the more years we have in “just surviving,” the more power we’ve given to the voice of insanity in our own being.

Whether it’s ego, the devil, fear, or whatever other “source” of the “self-deception,” we need to be vigilant for that as well.

Healthy Support from Others

I could spend hours and hours going further into the psychology and the process of what I’ve been through, what I’ve learned, and how I’ve overcome personal challenges to the degree I have – except this is “just” a blog post meant not to be a life story or a book.

(In fact, I’m in the final stages of actually writing a book on how we can change our life stars. It’s currently in the hands of my editor.)

However, that’s another subject altogether.

What I will say now, in moving toward a conclusion of this blog post, has to do with the fact I mentioned earlier that we need others in our life to help us.

When I say that, I need to emphasize how important it is to also realize that we almost certainly cannot seek help from just one other person, or just one book, or one medication, or just one course in wellness.

Our lives, like SEO, are so complicated, multi-faceted and unique to us that we almost certainly need help from multiple people, books, courses, or medications.

We’ve built a lifetime of circumstances and issues and needs. Some directly relate to others, while others still are ultimately not related. Involve different causes, require different solutions.

So thinking only one person or one answer is needed, is potentially not true.

And if we look to rely on just one source for help, that may lead to other problems.

Take people, for example. It is probably not possible that any one person is going to have enough direct experience, themselves, to align with all of the facets of your unique situation.

When you need SEO, you may, hopefully, seek out an SEO professional.

Yet when you need accounting restructuring, or Human Resources changes in your business, or a business loan, or legal advice, it’s almost never advisable to expect your SEO professional to have the depth of experience in your unique path’s history, let alone the experience in how to win with all of those things.

Unless you need a veterinarian. And your SEO is Marie Haynes.

Yet even then, if you hire Marie or her company for SEO, and at 3 a.m. on a Saturday night, your dog needs medical help, is it really appropriate to call Marie?

So too, is it true that when we have mental illness challenges, they are likely to have manifest in ways that not everyone we meet who themselves has overcome mental illness challenges, can help with.

Or where a given individual counselor or psychologist has expertise in one area, they may not have expertise in another.

We may need a food or gambling addiction support solution, a medical doctor, a psychologist, a drug addiction support solution, a marriage counselor, a physical therapist, a spiritual advisor, or any number of other “specialists.”

And even if/when we find any one of those, that one person may not be able to be available for us every time we are in crisis.

We can not allow ourselves to think they “should” be either. We can not, ourselves, be all things to others, 24/7/365. Not even to those we love the most.

Trying to do that will eventually cause us to lose our own sanity. So why would we think that isn’t true for someone we turn to for help?

Which means we need to find multiple resources sometimes even regarding one aspect of our growth needs.

Take What Works – Leave The Rest Behind

Even when we find someone or several people or support groups, or practitioners, it’s just as important to realize going into it that what they offer may apply to us, and it may not. Because they’re as unique as we are. They too, are only human.

And what works for them or worked for them, may not work for us, even if, going into it, we think they know our situation, or we think their story is our story.

So we need to be OK with situations where something they offer, whether out of love or compassion or empathy or training, may not be ideal for us. Or may not fit out truth.

And that’s OK.

If we rely on honesty, open-mindedness, and willingness, we also need to rely on that intuitive awareness I also talked about.

And if there is something in their background, or story that tells us they’re not perfect (that illusion of reality), or is radically different than our story, we also need to allow ourselves to be wise enough to accept what does align, without allowing what does not align, to prevent us from receiving value.

As long as it’s a healthy relationship scenario with that person, that practitioner, or that support group, it’s healthy to have the courage and capacity to see and accept what works and aligns, in spite of differences.

Like me and Jeremy Knauff. As brilliant as he is, he’s a jarhead, and I’m an Army rat. So how can a crayon eater possibly help me?

Well when it comes to WordPress code, I turned to Jeremy to get my site lightning fast. And now it is. In spite of his poor choice of military service.

I use that as a joking way to say “Look, not everything about our two paths is the same. Yet for this thing, he has what I need.”

That same silly concept, when taken seriously regarding mental health support, applies as well.

If there is enough alignment with someone else, in an area I need help with, and I am able to focus on that thing from them, that’s what matters.

Codependency

On a final note regarding seeking help from others:

Codependency is another major barrier to growth as individuals. If we are or become codependent with people we turn to for help, that’s self-sabotage. Self-destructive behavior.

We need to learn about codependency, enough to learn its patterns and warning signs, no matter what type of help we are seeking for ourselves. So I encourage people to, at the very least, get a good book on the topic and read it.

Warning – you may discover all or many of your relationships are codependent. It’s not uncommon for people with mental illness, or addictions, to suffer from that.

And it’s not uncommon for people in relationship with or in a family where someone has mental illness or addictions, to also be codependent.

And if that’s true, it’s OK. It just may mean there’s something else that needs to be addressed on your path in life. Which means there’s still hope.

The Bottom Line

No matter what you have been through, no matter what you are going through, you are not so unique that nobody else has gone through it.

No matter what.

Why? Because if there are words to describe it, that means someone else has been there, experienced that.

And because of that, given the age of humanity, there is almost certainly somebody who has gone through it and overcome that thing. Probably exponential numbers of others, in fact.

Maybe not in the exact combination you have lived, yet to enough degree that together, we as a society, can provide answers. And help each other.

So if you are seeking help, in whatever way, please know that as long as you have a breath left in your being, there is hope.

More Resources:

Image Credits

Featured Image: Paulo Bobita

Seo via Search Engine Journal http://bit.ly/2ZRRdDd September 6, 2019 at 09:09AM

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3000wordsandnolife · 7 years

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Countdown To Midnight- Chapter One

A project I’m 8 chapters deep into. I’ll probably release them weekly... or something. Takes heavy inspirations from Danganronpa, with my own flair of shoehorning homosexual relationships in because I think they’re cuter than straight ones.

The room smelled of smoke as I walked in, and it immediately clued me in to who exactly had been the one to break the lock on my door, and who the silhouette I saw sitting in my chair was through the window. He never had the courtesy of opening the window. He didn't look up from the newspaper he was reading as I closed the office door behind me, and in fact would have most likely continued to ignore me had I not cleared my throat.

The short, hairy man looked up at me, his face almost as disgusting as the smell I would now have to leave my window open to get out of the room.

"Late night?" He said in a tone of voice that expected a response of profanity, so of course, I obliged.

"Fuck off, Alan." Alan looked at me, feigning hurt. At least, that's how I saw it. While it was possible he could have actually been hurt, I somehow doubted he had the ability to comprehend emotions. He stubbed out the cigarette in a little portable ashtray, which I would have considered a pointless trinket had it not been one of the few things keeping the dirty office from getting dirtier. I moved from the office into the kitchenette (which was just a fancy way of saying 'A small room with a refrigerator') and took out a bottle of... well, something. I wasn't exactly a heavy drinker, so I had just bought some weirdly named liquid for an exorbitant price that usually did the trick. Not bothering to get one of the few glasses I had, I dragged a chair to the other side of the desk and crashed into it, my tired legs finally giving up the ghost. I uncapped the bottle and took a swig as Alan smirked, presumably having come up with some stupid thing to say that would only make me more infuriated.

"What, not going to offer me any?" Alan could clearly see the anger in my face as I glared at him, as he quickly backed down from annoying me, both of us knowing what would most likely happen if he didn't. "Hey, joking. Guessing the last one didn't go so well then?" He said, his voice changing to what, when talking about a normal person, would be considered concern. However, Alan Marcus Everett was not a person. He was a reptile, a cold-blooded predator preying on those whose lives are too shitty for the regular people to take on. Which of course, leaves people like me as his staff. Someone who goes around either beating the living hell out of either drug addicts or drug dealers, and being paid what I could only assume to be blood money from whatever shady enterprises Alan partook in. He was, for want of a better term, the boss. I couldn't possibly know who else was under his thumb, which other poor fools had fallen for the lies that he had once also told me. A better way of life. Bullshit. The 'last one' that he had referred to had been the last job I was sent on, a job to rough up some local newcomers. Apparently, they were cutting in on something Alan was doing. I had no particular interest in knowing what. I just do the job, and take the money. Usually he gives me important information, the keyword there being 'usually'. This time around, however, he had made mistake after mistake.

"So I'm guessing you had a good reason for not telling me that they were strapped." There had once been a time when I had objected to using such cliché terminology. That time had long since passed, and my general apathy that overtook a lot of my life took that as well, leaving me a bitter, uncaring shell. Alan's eyes widened with the information, which told me the exact reason why he had neglected to share such details. Somehow, somewhere, one of his- our- staff had failed, leaving me with nothing to defend myself but my wits, which were ropey at the best of times.

"Are you okay, did they get you?" Alan asked, looking me over. I took another swig from the bottle, grimacing as the strong, disgusting liquid coursed through my body, and unzipped my jacket. The once-white tank top I had been wearing had a slow red stain blossoming over it, the direct centre being a bullet wound that had been the first warning I was given that I was not, in fact, given the upper hand that I had assumed I possessed. "Holy shit." He breathed as I grabbed a small bag from my desk and unzipped it, taking out the tweezers from inside.

"D'you really think I'd be drinking this much if I hadn't been hit?" I asked him as I took more supplies from the bag that I would need for this homemade surgery. "The bullet's still in there, so I need to take it out before I fix the hole it left." I explained to him, as I slowly reached into the hole with the tweezers. I wasn't sure if I was explaining what I was doing for his benefit or my own. I had taken hits before, but I had only ever been shot once. My hands would have been shaking a lot more had I not been drinking beforehand. As it was, my nerves were extremely prevalent as I swore under my breath, catching the side of the wound. I took the tweezers back out, got the alcohol and poured a very slight amount onto the wound. The burning was immediate, and it took a lot of tongue biting and internal swearing so as to not double over and make my situation worse. I wasn't sure what exactly had made me do that, except for having seen it previously on TV shows. I didn't even know if it helped the wound, but it definitely helped me distinguish the open wound from the blood that had been previously leaking from it as if it was its job. Which, come to think of it, I suppose it was. Just like how it was my job to not get shot, and I royally cocked that up. I moved to enter the wound again as Alan responded.

"Honestly, I can't tell with you, Harvey." He said with his usual brand of insufferable wit. Ignoring his remarks, I reached in, and, very gingerly, removed the remnant of bullet that was embedded in my body. Taking a needle and thread, I begun the next painful process in fixing myself. "I've got something for you, by the way. Something huge." I scoffed, finally realising why he had been concerned. When it came to a job, it wasn't a choice. If he wanted me to do it, I would have to do it unless I was physically incapable. The actual thing he was worried about was that I wouldn't be able to help him out for the next thing. However, he had never said anything had been huge before (aside from his drunken bragging, but I never believed him there anyway), so while I showed my disdain, I was secretly interested to see where exactly he was going. Finishing up sewing my wound shut, I sellotaped a cotton pad over the hole, put my top back down and zipped my jacket back up, and began drinking again, which Alan took as his cue to continue. "There's a hotel. The Ruxford. Pretty swanky place. Named after Irene and Michael Ruxford, two entrepreneurs who apparently decided that a hotel was the next best course of action to spend their money on. Personally I'd spend the money on-" Alan trailed off mid-sentence as he caught me looking at him, annoyed. "Anyway, there's going to be a parcel drop off there. One of my... couriers, shall we say, is going to drop off something important of mine. Obviously, you can't just walk in there and pick it up, however. You need to leave with no suspicion whatsoever. Luckily, I have a plan."

"I await this Scooby-Doo caper with baited breath." I said, before Alan slid an envelope over the table. He looked down at it, then up at me expectantly, so I begrudgingly picked it up and opened it. Turning it upside down, the contents fell onto the desk, and I gasped slightly as crisp, fresh notes fell out. "What... the fuck." I said plainly, less as a question and more as a statement of my sheer amazement.

"Five grand. Three for the reservation, two for the advance pay. Ten when you bring me the package." Alan said, smirking at my clear shock. The pay was absurd! It’s never been that high before! Wait... it has never been that high before. I looked at him sceptically.

"What's the catch?" I said, awaiting some sort of response that would discourage me. Instead, the one I got surprised me.

"There is no catch. Or at least, there shouldn't be. At most, assuming you're in and out, all you have to worry about is keeping a low profile. The security system has blast shielding." I must have had an obvious double-take at that information. "Yeah, I'm not sure why either. It must be a pretty big target though. If you get caught doing anything suspicious, the building will lock down."

"I don't understand, how exactly am I getting the parcel?" I asked, suspicious of how simple this was seeming to shape up. There had to be a catch, right? There was no way in hell that something as easy as this could happen. For god's sake, it was literally a paid vacation. Alan smirked again, another reminder of how his face really didn't present much pleasure to look at.

"Room 413. That's your room. It's also the room that the parcel will be left in by the previous person living in the room. A few pockets lined here and there, a few eyes looking the other way, and no one will enter the room after him but you. Honestly, there's no way this could go wrong." This was usually the line that was given before things went wrong, so I didn't exactly get my hopes up for a smooth trip. However, for all intents and purposes, it was watertight. I go into the room, put the parcel in my suitcase, and walk out with it, no one suspecting anything. So why did I still have a pit in my stomach? It wasn't as if I couldn't blend in. I wasn't the type of person to get looks on the street when I ventured outside, and the shitty place I lived in was only by choice. I could easily pose as one of the ritzy divas that would reside there. "Any questions, Harvey?" Alan asked. I thought about anything I might have needed to know. But only one question came to mind. One I had been asking for a while.

"Why the hell do you keep calling me by my last name?" I said, smirking as his surprise at my question became evident on his face. It wasn't exactly uncommon for him to address people by last name only. The few times I'd heard him speaking to someone else, he had always addressed them by their last name.

"I don't know, Rose." Alan said, emphasising my first name when he said it, so as not to seem as if he didn't know it. "Maybe it's just because I'm more professional, and last names are just who we are anyway. After all, our last name is our heritage. Our first name's just a way of telling them apart." He spouted his usual brand of bullshit, and I took another swig, feeling my head grow lighter. In and out. It shouldn't be difficult at all. That's just what I'd have to keep telling myself. I knew something was going to go wrong. This line of work usually did. But, unlike what I had said previously, a few questions were running through my mind, ones I dared not ask, either for fear of knowing too much or knowing that I would most likely be lied to either way. What was this package that couldn't just be directly delivered to Alan? What was the significance of this particular hotel? Why couldn't it be another one? I mean after all, it'd be a lot more expensive to bribe these particular staff, wouldn't it? And the biggest question of all, the one that motivated me to find out more about the entire situation: why was the pay so damn high? Alan’s wallet was tighter than a duck’s asshole, so for him to shell out this much… I couldn’t focus. Maybe the blood loss combined with alcohol had taken its toll. I felt myself grow weary, and before I could really register what I was doing, I had fallen asleep, the last thing I remembered being Alan leaving.

When I woke up the next morning, I could barely remember the events of the previous night. My head ached from where it had been resting on my desk, and I could feel the red mark of where I'd been sleeping on a pencil that I had been writing with. I looked at the notepad in front of me, and saw the questions I had been asking previously. The night's memories returned to me as the questions flooded back, and I checked my desk to make sure what I had experienced wasn’t a dream. Sure enough, an envelope was there, reminding me of two things. One, I was incredibly hungry. Two, I had a job to do. And I could sort both of them out at the same time. But first, I’d need to think. I considered eating something, but I decided against it. I work better under pressure. Or, under hunger. There were three questions on the paper in front of me.

1. Why is the pay $12,000 for one job?

2. What sort of package needs to have numerous couriers?

3. Why did it have to be the Ruxford?

I had no idea what the answers were. In fact, I don’t even know why I had chosen to write them down, considering that the only way I’d really find out the answers would be to do the job in the first place. Well, except for one. I slid open a drawer on my desk and took out the small laptop that was inside. When it had loaded up, I decided to look into the background of the Ruxford hotel. It wasn’t much I didn’t already know. Irene and Michael Ruxford, two of the richest people around, who decided that they wanted to create a hotel for people like themselves. Something that did catch my eye, however, was that they hadn’t made any public appearances in about 8 months. Which, conveniently, was when they announced their son had come home from some overseas tour of some sort. Jordan Ruxford, the son in question, had taken over for everything they had been working on. Another notable thing was that there were no pictures of him at all. With most people, there’s usually one or two of them, but this guy had kept himself out of the public eye with an enviable amount of skill. It was kinda… strange. As soon as he had taken over, there were suddenly a lot more new security guards working at the hotel. In fact, if it wasn’t for the fact that this didn’t pertain to what I was doing at all, I’d have investigated the matter more thoroughly. Well, if it paid well. Personally I couldn’t care less about whatever crooked scheme was going on there. It didn’t involve me, and it was highly unlikely it ever would. Either way, it wasn’t going to stop me. Not much would for 12 thousand. And that’s how I found myself throwing together a suitcase of supplies. It was mostly just clothes and the alcohol I liked, which was barely passable as alcohol, more as sweetened water with about a shot’s worth of alcohol put into it, then removed because even that was too much. But hey, it tasted good. Not that it mattered, I wasn’t exactly going through customs. The Ruxford was about an hour away from my small apartment, though I was going to take a little extra time to make sure I looked like I was coming from the airport. The last thing I would want would be to be seen coming from somewhere else, considering that was what my lie was based around. Or, what it was going to be based around. As I packed the suitcase, I began coming up with my background in my head. My name was Rose Harvey (this bit didn’t take too much time to plan out), a 26 year old whose parents have paid for her to take a trip to the illustrious Ruxford Hotel, though she wouldn’t appreciate it since she’s been to a plethora of places around the globe. I paused, thinking. Would there be a situation I would get into where I’d have to show pictures of myself in those places? I’d have to watch out and make sure I didn’t say anything that I wouldn’t be able to get out of. The last thing I’d want would be to dig myself into a hole. Then again, I could just pretend that I was lying because that’s who I was. Which honestly wasn’t too far from the truth. I reassured myself to stay calm, that I was overthinking things, and that I wouldn’t need to worry at all. So that was the chain of events that led me to a taxi at 5AM to an airport, then a second taxi to the biggest hotel around, the Ruxford. And it wasn’t just the biggest in terms of popularity. There was only six floors, but about 30 rooms on each floor, every one of them being the same high quality template, equipped with a flat-screen TV and a mini-bar (okay, maybe I had researched a little bit more than just the history of the hotel, but in my defence, it was the biggest hotel around. I got a little excited) stocked with various expensive liquors, which I planned to partake in with a little bit of the money from having taken the job in the first place. On the drive over, I also had the chance to check my phone for more details, where I discovered that it also had a pool inside, complete with sun lamps and beach chairs in an attempt to accurately simulate the outside. As well as this, there was also a bar there too. I was seriously beginning to consider drinking more frequently, if only to accept all these opportunities that were arising to drink. Calm down, we’re here for a week. You’ll have plenty of time to drink without having to become like Uncle Brandon, My brain said, reminding me of the family members I had tried so hard to distance myself from. Looking up, I noticed I had arrived. The hotel’s white walls were straight ahead of me. I paid the driver, which included quite a generous tip (partially because I was nice and partially because I wasn’t going to wait for the change from a 50) and stepped out, having my bag taken out by the driver, who I waved off as he drove away. Now all I had to do was pose as a normal person, walk into possibly one of the richest and most protected hotels, and retrieve a package of god-knows-what from my hotel room, all while attempting to enjoy myself as much as I possibly could. What could go wrong?

#CountdownToMidnight #Story #Chapter 1

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soovaryit · 7 years

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First off I don’t want this to come across as if I’m trivialising depression in any way. It is serious, as serious as any other physical or mental illness and can absolutely result in death and you should take it seriously. I write light heartedly about serious things because that’s my way of dealing with life but I’m not disregarding or commenting on anyone else's experiences but mine. OKAY srs stuff over (kind of). A lot of what is written or spoken about depression feels cliche, simplistic and ultimately unhelpful. In medical terms it is black and white (we’ve all filled in the forms) - in the past two weeks, how often have you felt like a failure? In the last two weeks, how often have you felt that you have let yourself or a family member down? I could literally recite the whole paper here. At the other end of the spectrum, usually in the media and in the arts, it’s poetic, or dramatic, or suicidal, or puts you a catatonic trance for months on end (which is true for some people and that's important to know). Both the practical and emotional aspects of it are important to recognise but I can’t help but think that depression is just something that needs be normalised for it not to get worse. Here’s my dramatic description of it. Depression is a parasite that buries itself deep, deep under your skin and is awoken at the most unexpected and inconvenient times. It manifests itself in new and ugly ways - making you forget your sense of self, turn against people who love you, preventing you from enjoying anything, causing you to nurture addictions to unhealthy habits and people, It’s always there, but it is only a part of you and does not define you, despite the fact that it is often SO hard to separate from you. I have mild/moderate depression that I never took medication for until September of last year when I had an episode that lasted around 5 months. I never even knew what an episode was but mine consisted of crying almost every day, thinking constant negative thoughts about myself and my life, shutting out people around me, drinking to excess, getting involved with problematic people, being incapable of looking to the future and of seeing any positivity in any situation. Overall - hopeless, tired, not worthy of happiness. The reason I didn’t medicate was because 1) I never wanted to admit that I felt depressed and 2) People don’t talk about their experiences on anti depressants very openly, and although I knew a few people who took them I didn’t necessarily feel comfortable asking them about it as I was cautious. I would say around 80% of my depression is from chronic pain. I know this because before endometriosis symptoms took over my life, I had very occasional episodes where I felt unhappy rather than it being the norm which I had to fight against everyday. I am a functioning depressive, I am one of those people that hears ‘omg but you don’t SEEM depressed’ in a situation where I reveal that I take medication for it. First of all - never, ever say that to anyone with a mental health problem because it is extremely invalidating. Second of all, the reason I don’t seem depressed when I feel it is because I spent such a long time trying to bury negative feelings in the back of my mind that I am incredibly convincing at faking happiness and positivity. In my particular case, I don’t mind that, because often it gives me a lift or at least allows me to coast along until I feel relatively normal again. This is because my depression is mild, for some it can completely disable them and I would never recommend faking positivity that you don’t feel unless you get some kind of positive outcome from it (which I generally do). Don’t do it to make others comfortable if it makes you feel less comfortable. On that note though, even when I have felt in the depths of despair I think its important to try and communicate to those around you that they can’t expect anything from you because you are unwell. The way people to react to that is usually how you find out which people are the right ones to invest your time and energy in. I watched some Ted Talks on the topic of depression yesterday and something said in this one really struck me. Andrew Solomon talks about depression being perceived as a veil to outsiders - something that clouds your judgement, a layer of sadness over your true self. But from the inside, depression feels like you’ve finally found the (harsh) truth. People underestimate how real the thoughts feel, how sadness can become a state of being and not feel like something that will pass, but who you really are at your very core. For me anyway, that is what I fight against. A few weeks ago I increased my sertraline dosage and I don’t feel any better. Because I’m in a bit of a low right now, I tell myself its my fault. I’m grumpy, ungrateful, pessimistic, lazy, spoilt, a drama queen. I am lucky because I have now, to some extent, trained my brain to recognise that this is not the truth. I’m frustrated, irritated and upset by these thoughts, but I know that I am a person who is loved, full of confidence and motivation and that the feeling of wholeness will come back to me at some point. I know that it is not my fault when I’m not at my best, I just have to convince myself often. I worry these days that I am more comfortable in being sad than happy. I am more equipped to deal with bad than accept good. But although it can feel like it, depression is not a permanent state of being for anyone. There is no way I could speak for others about this but the one thing that is true of anyone suffering is that it will get better because it has before. Even if just for a while, it will. That kind of sentence used to enrage me. But now I repeat it to myself in my head, I look at photos from good times with friends and family and think of all the things I’ve done that have been productive and kind and brilliant and I try and try and try to recognise that and not let the feelings of unworthiness swallow me whole. It’s a difficult conversation to have with anyone. GP’s can be unhelpful and unfortunately so can friends and people you trust because of the stigma attached to mental illness. I even know people who hypothetically can sympathise with it, speak openly about how difficult it must be for people to experience it - but when it comes to you, they have nothing to say and don’t want to get involved. Because it is easy to understand in theory but not in practice. My best friend Alicia is one of the people in my life who consistently amazes me with her positivity and resilience in the health battles that she’s faced and how she turns her discomfort into beautiful, powerful and thought provoking art that will help heal others. Although comparing yourself to other people is completely misguided, she has gone through 10 times what I have and is my beacon of hope and strength when I fall apart. Doctors constantly misdiagnosed her, put her on medications that only made things worse, treatments that failed and the way she continues to open herself up to people about her experiences astounds me. On the topic of medication, it is also a subject with a lot of stigma attached to it when there shouldn’t be. I absolutely should have been on medication a long time ago and I wish I hadn’t kept my curiosity and anxiety about it to myself. Specifically in the context of chronic pain: constant pain makes you depressed. It is pretty much a fact. You will feel misunderstood and angry and pathetic and beaten down by things that others don’t consider a problem. It is a different way of living, one that requires you to constantly adapt to new drugs, new ways to retrain your thoughts, new and different pain all the time. Being in pain since I was 6 years old has made me carry a lot of negativity that I used to be very self conscious of (and guilty about). But now I recognise that it doesn’t make me lesser than anyone and that there is a lot of power that will come from sadness and the worst part of the battle is simply not knowing when it will come. (This is a super good Ted Talk on chronic pain btw - gives me hope! and also an astoundingly beautiful song on coping with shittiness, if you don’t know Amanda Palmer you gotta get to know and I’m V happy to share my excellent depressed playlist with you).

#depression #SSRIdrugs #chronicpain #chronicillness #meds #painmeds #sertraline

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kiaronna · 7 years

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Soulmate AU Suggestion Master List!

a flower/bouquet blooms somewhere on your body when going through puberty. It will be completely unique, except for your soulmate, who'll have it in exactly the same place. HOWEVER, it will be in black-and-white until the first time you first see/meet your soulmate, and then it slowly begins gaining colour. The colours don't even have to be natural. Maybe the flower(s) have an associated meaning? (Phoenix Lumen, FFN)

everyone were born with "marks" on different colors and shapes and whenever your soulmate came closer the mark grew. (With mark I mean colorful swirly things. Not picture-like marks of flowers or stuff...) (Kirei Ao Tori, FFN) Another is when the the Soulmate-pair meet in dreams. It could potentially be pretty great if neither if the pair could speak to the other in human language and they both were in the shape of an animal("spirit-animal"?) in the dreams. It could actually work since no one knows what animal other people are. Bonus COULD be that you only understand what the other said if you had heard their voice in real life and NOT through a TV-screen. (I kind of came up with this now wile writing... -_-') (Un-relevant(kind of relevant?) side-thing, what if people could somehow project their "spirit-animals" like a patrons? (Kirei Ao Tori, FFN)

Idea 1: until you meet your soulmate, you're physically incapable of feeling Idea 2: you don't age past puberty until you meet your soulmate or, conversely, you age rapidly without them. Idea 3: you're ADD until your soulmate comes along- they bring focus to life. Idea 4: you share your soulmate's heartrate/heartbeat. Yuri has panic attacks, Victor is an athlete, they go back and forth. Idea 5: you feel your soulmate's fears. Idea 6: you don't feel your own injuries; your soulmate does. There's a precarious culture surrounding soulmate's because of the potential for abuse. Idea 7: when you eat and sleep and drink, your soulmate is affected as well. Yuri's eating habits and Victor's stress come into play. Idea 8: you share ideas, but not information. I.e. shared procedural memory and imagination.

(Laura, FFN)

you can't feel pain/be injured when you're around your soulmate (booopsboops, FFN)

a world where, the day you meet your soulmate, you both suddenly become allergic to something (the same thing). So like say you're eating ice cream with this cool new person you just met and you suddenly find yourself with puffy eyes and a sore throat, and you're never able to eat ice cream again, and you're chatting with them one day and they casually mention how torturous it is to watch others enjoy ice cream while they have to sit on the sidelines because of their damn allergies, and it's too bad because they really used to like the stuff, and you just think to yourself, "Oh. OH." (Unconscious Again, FFN)

Siulmate AU where, when you first meet your soulmate, you burst into song. It isn't necessarily loud or long, it could just be a line or two of something, but it's your soulmate's favourite song at the moment. So, say your soulmate was a closet Broadway geek, you might end up singing a verse of "Memory" from Cats and breaking your vocal chords because the key is so damn high. (Unconscious Again, FFN)

au where wenever you wright something on yourself it also appears on your soulmate. (TDIHP, FFN)

story wherein the soulmates feel each other's emotions when their eyes meet. Or where soulmates hear the songs their soulmate is hearing in their mind. (principessa luna fiorella, FFN)

1. You have a tattoo that illustrates something about the moment that you fall in love with a person. Examples: fall in love at the beach? Seagull. Realize you love your best friend at their bday party? Party hat. 2. You occasionally have incredibly vivid dreams about the person, but aren't given details as to what they look like(I like this one cuz your soulmate is literally the person of your dreams, but you don't love them simply based on looks) 3. You are born with a streak in your hair that's the color of your soulmate's eyes or hair or both (I can see issues coming up with this one where it isn't really definitive, especially in cultures that doesn't have much diversity appearance-wise) 4. You can do a perfect impression of your soulmate's favorite animal (strange, I know, but the image of yuri perfectly imitating makkachin and victor thinking 'that was so cute' popped into my head) (drkm2000, FFN)

soulmates could feel each other's emotions (LiannaAila, FFN)

a world where whatever soulmates write on themselves shows up on the other's skin? Sometimes people use this for any mark too, like bruises etc. (booopsboops, FFN)

Every time your soulmate gets a surface wound (bruises, hickey, scrapes, cuts, stuff like that) it appears on your skin, in a color that represents their soul, for as long as it takes for the injury to heal. It can happen from the moment you are born so I think it would work for your fic because of the age difference. I read about this and think that it is utterly adorable. (Stuffs-and-zzzzs, FFN)

they swap bodies for 24 hours and have to figure out who the other person is and how to contact them (BookdragonBeth, FFN)

you constantly dream about yours and your soulmate's wedding day ceremony. But, the dream ends abruptly, ending right before the priest says their full names towards the end right before they kiss. With Victor and Yuuri already being in their 20's, they've had this dream enough times that they could recite their own and each other's vows. In their vows (LeMinaChan, FFN)

what if you could turn into your soulmate's favorite animal? With some kind of discerning feature. Like an animagus in Harry Potter. (It feels like I'm referencing Harry Potter a lot.) It would be hilarious if small children ran around in different shapes of animals especially since kids change favorite animals all the time. One day you change into a cat and the next into a bear or something. (Poor, poor parents...) I'm thinking the animal would have to be something specific so people couldn't just go up to someone and claim to be their soulmate. Or just have a shared specific feature. (Kirei Ao Tori, FFN)

veryone is born with a blank outlined design on their body. While the outlining design is a prefect copy of their soulmate the color schemes that make up the rest of the design are different. The colors show the different emotions and trials that their soulmate has went through. The mark fills in a little each year until the soulmates finally met. The size of the mark depends on the great things that your destiny has in store for you. Normally a persons mark is small, just enough to fit on the back of someones hand... But for Victor and Yuuri it was different. Almost their entire bodies were canvasses. (guest on FFN)

where one doesn't age until they meet their soulmate (The Blood Cloak, FFN)

your greatest accomplishment or, as they called them, Deeds appeared on your soulmate's skin. (The Blood Cloak, FFN)

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ruffoverthinksthings · 7 years

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What would Mal and bens kids be like

Warning: Heavy Bias towardsBal, skewing EXTREMELY towards negative realism.

Two general trends:

Emotional, unstable individuals with heaps of problems inherited from their parents and their inherent genetic/magical weaknesses to mental illness and emotional issues; or

Completely normal, healthy, pleasant people who just happen to be EXTREMELY out of the norm and challenge Auradon’s established norms and beliefs by the simple virtue of existing.

You have to understand: Mal and Ben are an incredibly volatilecouple just waiting to have all manner of issues come boiling up tothe surface. They’re also an AK Royal and VK couple, the veryfirst, actually, and any children they have will be subject to allthe criticism, the scrutiny, and the intentional and unintentionalscrutiny that comes with being a VK in Auradon and being a Royal inAuradon.

Think of it as the worst of both worlds.

On your VK side, your peers consider you “diluted” in that youare an Auradon Villain Kid (AVK), not nearly as “evil,” “rotten,”or “cunning” as any of them simply by virtue of your bloodlineand where you were born--they needn’t even be Evil Evil,just otherwise Good kids that get into mischief most days of theweek. You don’t just become an Isle Kid without growing upin the Isle and even if one of your parents were from there, becauseYOU didn’t live with the discrimination, the desperation, and therampant psychological and physical abuse.

Think of African Americans from “The Hood” and the sense ofshared anger and outrage at “Gangsta” being co-opted by peoplewho never experienced their hardships, oftentimes as a gimmick formoney and attention.

(I actually have a headcanon that Robin Hood’s kid and the restof his Merry Men and Maidens consider themselves AVK already, whichbrings a lot of hatred and conflict between them and the authenticVK’s, but that’s a different topic altogether.)

On your AK Royal side, you are on an even tighter rope than theoriginal Royals, as now you don’t have immediate support and loveof the heroes and beloved monarchs that the original AK Royalshave--in fact, there will be a LOT of (mostly unjustified) racism anddiscrimination simply by virtue of you having “Villain” in yourblood, and most of Auradon being heavily racist and bigoted.

You’renot invited to all the fun parties, but you’re expected to show upfor all the major, boring events.

People do not give you the benefit of the doubt, will rail againstyou on the slightest of mistakes, and will treat your doing thingsright as “exactly what is expected of you, nothing that would earnpraise” or since they can’t say it out loud, “I’m stunnedthat you managed to do this right because I expected you to failcatastrophically, and I don’t want to say anything else for fear oflooking even more racist and bigoted than I already am.”

You seeyour pure AK and VK peers belonging with their respectivegroups, while you stand outside their groups by virtue of yourbirth, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

And these kids are the KING AND QUEEN’S CHILDREN, so you know,they’re also inherently considered a class all their own, separatedfrom their own AVK peers, and constantly watched by the media andsociety because BOY HOWDY does Auradon love itself some eagerlywatching the 1%’s lives.

There’s two ways that their kids would develop in a society thatoffers them no stability, no community, and all the discriminationand the hatred because they’re an entirely new class of demographicaltogether and that is instinctively terrifying to everyoneelse:

One, you learn to carve out your own niche, take pride in yourdifferences and rally with your other exiled peers, and join or make your owncommunity where you let your Freak Flag fly proud, such asthe slurs being used against your community and turning them into anaffectionate nickname for your group.

Or Two, you forever remain an outsider, and come to terms with thefact that you’re always going to be an outsider, no matter howloved, popular, or invaluable you make yourself to the people thatshun you, and that’s just your lot in life.

Example OC’s of both groups are the following:

“The Knight in Sour Armour” Jacques “Jack” Maurice

Usually, Fairies come to bless newborns, granting them wisdom,strength, and cunning that will serve them well all throughout theirlives. As Jack will tell you, being the biological son of a fairydoes not make you blessed right from the starting gate, it saddlesyou with an awful, terrible curse.

1/4th Fae, 3/4th human; incapable of magic of any sort; naturallyresistant to most poisons, pharmaceuticals, and drugs both good andbad; cursed with both the supercharged empathy of his mother and hisfather and grandfather’s capacity for volatile, explosive rage.

Jack was always capable of experiencing exactly what otherpeople were feeling--their joy, their sadness, their anger, theircuriosity, their disgust, their fear--everything. It was a delight inthat he would happily lose himself in celebrations, literally lettingthe other’s enjoyment flow into him and lift his mood along with itlike a tide, but it was a nightmare when he could also be easilyknocked over and drowned in a sea of gloom, anxiety, and anger.

His parents were blissfully unaware of his distress, Ben thinkinghe was just a particularly emotional child, and Mal evenaffectionately referring to him as a “Cry Baby” because theoverflow of any sort of emotion oftentimes made Jack cry.

Then the panic attacks started.

Mental health STILL being terrible in Auradon, Jack being amagical-hybrid, and the public’s perception that he’s just beinga “yellow-belly who needs to toughen up and grow a thicker skin”whilst they laugh at his latest public emotional breakdown, he’sunable to develop properly or regulate his emotions in healthy ways,and in desperation, turns to Stoicism, using the anger and the ragehe feels at himself to tamp down on ANY emotion he feels or picks upin others.

By his teenage years, he’s an extremely logical and reservedman, eyes decades older than his actual age, a wizard in mathematics,programming, and behavioural economics, one of the foremost expertsand poster boys of rational thought and the study of emotional andpsychological biases, and frequently involved in numerous HIGHLYunpleasant tasks such as reforming the mental health system, fixingthe numerous systemic racism and biases that still exist in his time,along with not only opening the closets that contains theirskeletons, he breaks the doors down so they may never be able torecede where they won’t be noticed and will go unfixed.

When he ascends to the throne, he gains a reputation for being ahighly unpleasant and overtly practical king who has “no respectfor tradition,” just the rule of reason and hard statistics.

He will happily be called callous, cruel, and cold.

But don’t EVER imply that he is unfeeling, that he doesn’tlove his country and its people, or that all of his decisions aren’tmade with the needs of his people above that of his own interests.

Because the one thing that keeps him getting up every morning,that keeps him soldiering through the constant deluge of emotionsthat threaten to sweep him away and overwhelm him once more, is thepain he feels everyday, his rage that they aresuffering, too, and his determination to make it better, comehell or high water.

In his words, "Being a fairy's child is a three part curse:one, you feel exactly what everyone else is feeling; two, you feeltheir suffering extra hard; and three, you literally cannotstop yourself from trying to make them feel better."

His most iconic feature is his left hand: permanently curled into a claw, because of his childhood habit of constantly gripping things so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Rosa “Mel” Melantha

Mel is the spitting image of her grandmother, Belle: intelligent,compassionate, and brave. She even has her exact shade of lovelybrown hair, if her mother’s striking green eyes.

She’s funny. She’s an absolute darling in words and deed,whoever you are. She reads horrific, gory, personal accounts of thepolitical prisoners the likes of Grimhilde kept in dank, inhumanedungeons before bedtime.

For you see, Mel is obsessed with “Evil.” She wants to knowwhy people are so distrustful of her mother for being a “Villain”Kid even if she long stopped being a villain, and in some generousinterpretations, never really was. She wants to know why Auradon heldthe values of being a perfect society with all “Good” people, buther father Ben decided to bring back the “Bad” people to actuallymake it a better society. She wants to know exactly what makessomeone evil, with the ultimate goal of making an objective“Evil-O-Meter” scale, of which the official unit of measurement will be “Mal,” after her mother and grandmother.

In short, she wants to know, “Why?”

As Queen or one of the crown princesses, she becomes a prominentphilosopher, moralist, and attorney of law (and later, judge) whocompletely changes all of Auradon's standards on crime, “Goodness,”and “Evilness” along with earning the ire of most every religiousleader out there when she never stops questioning “What exactly ISGod's Will?” among other probing questions made in good faith andwithout the hint of malevolence, just childlike curiosity that stayswith her her whole life.

And no, she doesn't mind being completely ostractized by hercommunity for being so smart, intellectual, and asking no shortage ofuncomfortable questions, either--”I'd rather be the minority thatis right than the majority that just assumes they are right.”

Belladona AKA “Bella”

From the very beginning, Bella was an artistic soul, drawing andpainting with whatever she could get her hands on. Malenthusiastically bought her a giant collection of finger paints, anextra big canvas for her to unleash her creativity, and left her toher own devices, wanting to be surprised by whatever it was herdaughter was going to create with proper tools.

What she got was a mural of the Circle of Life, with all the gruesome, violent, bloody detail that a two-year old is capable of.

Throughout her life, Bella has always been accused of beingshocking, gruesome, and offensive for the sake of it. And while shewill never deny it, she prefers seeing it as her “portraying lifeas it really is—confusing, messy, and oftentimes horrifying, butbeautiful—always, always beautiful.”

She has donepolitical pieces of the kind of racism and discrimination that AVK'slike her can experience, complete with all the unhealthy copingtactics and the sheer depth of despair they can reach. She has doneinnumerable album covers for heavy metal, punk, and rock bands,hoping to do the artists before her justice as she crafts thecontroversial, graphic, and oftentimes littered with more femalenudity than is strictly necessary faces of the new generation. Shehas made tattoos and art for friends, and especially people who wanttheir very first tattoo done right—her favourite is that of awriter literally bleeding their lifeblood onto their magnum opus.

She curses in sixdifferent languages without a second thought. She will not hesitateto tell you that you suck to your face, that what you said was stupid,or that you look terrible in her iconic getup of ballet skirtsand combat boots. She walks through life ignoring the whispers andadmonishments of the royals and aristocrats of which she willeventually have to rub elbows with full time when she becomes Queen;she also isn't bothered in the slightest about the criticisms of herpeers about her not being “punk” enough or just being a really good “Posey.” (An Auradon Kid or Auradon Villain Kid trying to be more Rotten than they actually are.)

She does what shewants, and what she wants is to live a life where she and everyoneelse is free to do whatever they please, so long as they do not “stepon someone else steel-toed boots.”

She's a Goodperson, who loves hanging out with the Evil crowd, challenging bothof their ideas of if you really are just one or the other.

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5 Ways to Quiet the Negative Voices in Your Head

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5 Ways to Quiet the Negative Voices in Your Head

“There’s a brilliant, beautiful, priceless piece of art hanging right in front of you. It’s sophisticated and meticulously detailed—a painstaking labor of passion and deep devotion. The colors, patterns and textures are like no other—they soar and dip, they shine bright and leap right off the canvas at you. And yet, you choose to fixate your eyes on the tiny, dark housefly that has landed on the edge this masterpiece. Why would you choose to do such a thing?”

She cracked a half smile in my direction and then shifted her gaze down to the ground.

“Look,” I said, “the point here is that there’s no possible way to be 100% certain about anything in this world. Life, like great art, is sophisticated, complex and unpredictable. So you’re left with a choice: either appreciate it and look for the beauty it holds, or focus on the worst and dwell on it.”

But if you expect the worst, you’re never quite as disappointed,” she said under her breath.

“Yeah, but who truly lives like that?” I replied. “No one, that’s who! People die slowly every day like that, without ever truly living.”

That’s the gist of a conversation I had recently with an attendee of our Think Better, Live Better conference (I’m sharing this with her full permission). She literally started the conversation by telling me that expecting negative things to happen is her default way of coping with life’s challenges. If you can relate in any way at all, it’s time to revamp your mindset.

Believing in negative thoughts and acting on them is the single greatest barrier to living a healthy, productive life. If you allow these thoughts to dwell for too long, they will succeed in robbing you of peace, joy, productivity, meaning, and ultimately your life. You will think yourself into endless disappointment, heartache, and even bouts of depression.

And make no misunderstanding about it, when you are feeling down on a consistent basis, the battle you are going through isn’t fueled by the words or actions of others, and it isn’t fueled by what did or didn’t happen in the past either. It’s fueled entirely by your mind that gives negativity a voice. In a very real sense, you are what you think—you can’t change anything if you can’t change your thinking.

But, are you ready for the silver lining?

YOU CAN change the way you think!

And when you change the way you think, you can gradually master a new way to be.

Quieting the Negative Inner Voices

Today we’re going to take a look at a few effective methods for quieting that negative inner voice of yours—these are the very same methods we’ve successfully used with hundreds of new course students and coaching clients over the years. But first, let’s examine a super-common error in judgment negative thinkers tend to make:

People who are habitual negative thinkers are often proud to describe themselves as “realists.” Of course, anyone who holds a strong belief thinks they are being “realistic” by holding it, whether it involves alien encounters, perfectly truthful politicians, or otherwise.

The “being realistic” pronouncement is a favorite among cynics everywhere. And in a way they are correct. But only because negative thinking causes the human mind to give up on everything—to not even try, or to give a disorganized, half-hearted effort—so the negativity itself influences the end result. Self-fulfilling predictions like this really do happen. Research even suggests that in some cases what we believe about our health can have more bearing on how long we live than our actual physical health.

So, why do we as human beings do this to ourselves?

Because thinking negatively, expecting “the worst,” seeing the downside of positive situations, and even downright expecting failure, all convey a kind of backwards-thinking, emotional insurance policy. It happens subconsciously and it goes something like, “If I expect a catastrophe, then I won’t be quite as disappointed when it takes place.”

What makes all of this so alarming is the fact that it means negative thoughts can plague us even when life is going relatively well. For instance, the thought “This is much too good to last!” quickly wreaks havoc on a positive situation. Thus, the methods discussed below have to do with how negative thinking distorts our perception.

Ready to get started?

It’s time to…

1. Watch your tendency to over-generalize the negative (and minimize the positive).

Ask yourself: “If something negative unexpectedly happens, do I over-generalize it? Do I view it as applying to everything and being permanent rather than compartmentalizing it to one place and time?”

For example, if someone rejects you or turns you down for a date, do you spread the negativity beyond that person, time and place by telling yourself, “I’m just not good at relationships; they never work out for me, ever”? If you fail an exam do you say to yourself, “Well, I failed that exam; I’m not happy about it, but I’ll study more next time”? Or do you over-generalize it by telling yourself you’re “not smart enough” or “incapable of learning”?

Remember, negative thinking stops us from seeing and experiencing positive outcomes, even when they happen often. It’s as if there’s a special mental block filtering out all the positives and only letting in data that confirms the negative biases we have. So, do your very best to catch yourself today.

Being able to distinguish between the negativity you imagine and what is actually happening in your life is an important step towards living a happier life. (Note: Angel and I discuss this extensively in our NEW book.)

2. Start focusing on the grey area between life’s extremes.

Life simply isn’t black or white—100% of this or 100% of that—all or nothing. Thinking in extremes like this is a fast way to misery, because it basically views any situation that’s less than perfect as being extremely bad. For example:

Rather than the rainstorm slowing down my commute back home from the office, instead “it wasted my whole evening and ruined the night!”

Rather than just accepting the nervousness of meeting a new group of people, “I know these people are not going to like me.”

Since 99.9% of all situations in life are less than perfect, “all or nothing” thinking tends to make us focus on the negatives—the drama, the failures, and the worst-case scenarios. Sure, catastrophes occur on occasion, but contrary to what you may see on the evening news, most of life occurs in a grey area between the extremes of bliss and total devastation.

3. Stop looking for negative signs from others.

Our negativity leads us to quickly jump to negative conclusions about the unknown, which can be especially harmful in our relationships. We are provoked to interpret something another person does as being negative, even when we have been given absolutely no indication of what the other person is thinking. For instance, “He hasn’t called, so he must not want to talk to me,” or, “She only said that to be nice, but she doesn’t really mean it.” When we jump to conclusions like this, we only cause ourselves and others unnecessary pain, stress and frustration.

So, if someone says one thing, don’t assume they mean something else. If they say nothing at all, don’t assume their silence has a concealed, negative connotation. Assigning meaning to a situation before you have the whole story makes you more likely to believe that the uncertainty you feel (based on lack of knowing) is a negative sign.

On the flip-side, holding off on assigning meaning to an incomplete story helps the mind overcome it’s negative thinking tendencies. When you think more positively, or simply more clearly about the facts, you’ll be able to evaluate all possible reasons you can think of, not just the negative ones. In other words, you’ll be doing more of: “I don’t know why he hasn’t called yet, but maybe… he’s actually extremely busy at work today.”

4. Identify the underlying triggers to your negative thinking.

To change your thinking, it helps to have a crystal-clear understanding of what you’re thinking in the first place. When a troubling (negative) thought arises in your mind, instead of ignoring it, pay closer attention and then record it. For example, if you’re sitting at your desk and you catch yourself ruminating about something negative, pause and write it down immediately. Get that raw thought out of your head and down on paper—just a short sentence or two that honestly depicts the specific thought that’s presently troubling you:

“I’m not good enough for the job I’m applying for because I don’t have enough experience.”

Then, identify what triggered the thought. Again, be brief and specific:

“I’m new to the industry, and therefore I’m feeling out of my comfort zone.”

At the very least, this process of evaluating your negative thoughts and their underlying triggers helps bring a healthy, objective awareness to the sources of your negativity or anxiety, which ultimately allows you to shift your mindset and take the next positive step forward.

5. Change your mantra.

All journeys of positive change begin with a goal and the determination needed to achieve it. However, what do you think happens when you are too determined, or too obsessed, with a goal? You begin to nurture another belief: who you are right now is not good enough.

A few months ago, one of our new Getting Back to Happy course students had become overly obsessive in her efforts to meditate. As her interest in meditation grew, she began to increasingly say to herself, “I am not good enough,” and, “I have to be better at this.” She began to notice various imperfections within herself that needed to be “fixed.”

In a nutshell, her over-the-top efforts to meditate for extensive periods of time had opened the doors to lots of unexpected self-criticism and stress. Thankfully, with a little coaching from Marc and me, she eventually realized her obsession toward meditation had made her forget one of the basic objectives of meditation—self-acceptance.

So, the bottom line is this: you have to accept yourself as you are, and then commit to personal growth. If you think you are absolutely “perfect” already, you will not make any positive efforts to grow. But, constantly criticizing yourself is just as counterproductive as doing nothing, because you will never be able to build new positive changes into your life when you’re obsessively focused on your flaws.

The key is to remind yourself that you already are good enough; you just need more practice. Change your mantra from, “I have to be better,” to, “I will do my absolute best today.” The second mantra is far more effective, because it actually prompts you to take positive action at any given moment while simultaneously accepting the reality that every effort may not be perfect.

Being able to distinguish between healthy striving and self-abuse on your journey is another critically important step towards living a happier and more successful life.

Afterthoughts, and Next Steps…

There’s a quote I’ve always loved that’s often credited to Ignatius: “Pray as if God will take care of all; act as if all is up to you.”

That’s such a strong way to live! It’s about using your faith to fuel positive thinking and positive action, every single day. I sincerely strive for this in my own life. And, I sincerely wish this for YOU.

It’s important to note, too, that replacing your negativity with positivity isn’t about turning off all your negative thoughts—that’s nearly impossible because negative thoughts typically arise spontaneously and uncontrollably. It’s also not about turning your false negative thoughts into false positive ones. The goal is to reframe negative thoughts effectively, so they are based entirely in reality, detached from needless drama, and focused on the next positive step forward that can be taken in the present moment.

The five methods covered above provide solid starting points.

Challenge yourself to START, today!

And, with “starting” in mind, I’d love to hear your thoughts about this article. What resonated with you? Where will you start? Is there anything else you would add to the list?

Please leave me a comment below and share your thoughts.

And finally, if you haven’t done so already, be sure to sign-up for our free newsletter to receive new articles like this in your inbox each week.

#Happiness

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