#btw my use of the word 'questionable' is me trying to downplay my interest in the genre

[4letteraroace]

ah yes. nothing better than listening to questionable rp audio asmr at 11 pm. this is the best way i could be spending my time

#btw my use of the word 'questionable' is me trying to downplay my interest in the genre #the audios are really good and i enjoy them immensely but i dont wanna get judged abt it #i was listening to ycey narrates #and i like his audios because he makes his characters sound like real people #there are some creators that just sound like theyre reading out a script #i dont need lore i dont even need names #i just need the speaker character to sound like a real person #and then i take a deep breath whenever the creators try to do kissing sound effects #the kissing always sounds SO WEIRD #anyways i listen to more than just redacted audios #i also listen to yuurivoice and ycey narrates #ANYWAY thanks for listening to andi rambles in the tags of her own post at way too late at night

[sabaramonds]

the thing about mikoto of milgram fame is that hes like. okay. so theres a lot that cant be said about him yet because his 2nd trial hasnt released and wont be for quite a while and his music video and interrogation only tell us so much. but what they DO tell us is um. enough to say some things if he answered his interrogation questions honestly, we know he has a younger sister he brags about, his parents are divorced and his father isnt involved in their lives. in regards to his mother, he says that “she raised me. i cant let her worry.” he downplays his own interests/hobbies a lot. he said he played baseball in high school but that he wasnt good at it; he went to an art school but did so in order to go into business (though design was related to his chosen company) and says that he likes drawing but, again, isnt good at it. he says he hates working late nights but we see him pulling an all nighter at work in ‘undercover’. when asked why hes working his current job, he says he worked incredibly hard to even get hired, so its something to be proud of. finally, when asked if he ever gets angry, he says he doesnt. he says, “i dont think ive ever gotten angry before. isnt it disgraceful to get angry?” theres also the following milgram portal conversation (src):

Yuno: Hey, Mikoto-san. Don’t you get tired being so conscious of others all the time? I mean, you’re free to do what you want though.

Mikoto: Eh…… Aha, what are you talking about? I’m not being conscious or anything. It’s normal to make sure to get along with everyone, right?

I mean, when you put it like that, aren’t you the same, Yun-chan? You’re always smiling and getting on with everyone too.

Yuno: I don’t smile unless I actually want to. But with you, when you’re talking with other people it’s more like you only smile deliberately. So I kept thinking, don’t your cheeks get tired?

Ah, is this just what happens when you become a working adult? ……you see people like that sometimes.

Mikoto: Haha, you don’t mince your words do you.

…….that was never my intention, but now that you mention it, yeah, I guess I do. This might’ve been since I started my job too…… But like, if I was rude to everyone I met, all my efforts would come to nothing, right?

all these little things add up to paint a picture of a stressed and deeply repressed guy working a job he doesnt actually like (but he has to have a successful job he can brag about or his mother will worry) he thinks little of his own interests and hobbies and socializes more out of obligation than out of genuine desire. all of this culminates to um...his present situation... basically what i want to say is that i think its fine. also i think he killed someone and immediately repressed it but that incident is entirely unrelated to his anime brand DID and his alter. who aside from trying to whale on es that one time has only ever really showed up to be like “can you shut the fuck up. and get away from me. im trying to be normal over here and you are RUINING my life” or to pace around in mikotos cell in the middle of the night like a creature. i think mikoto 2 was entirely unrelated to mikotos repression stress induced rage murder but they might have cleaned up after him idk. we will see. mikoto wants to be a normal guy having a normal time and not worrying his family at all ever and never experiencing anything like anger or frustration at all EVER EVER!! because he has to set a good example for his sister and be the perfect son for his mom so she can relax. and he doesnt think he can do the things he enjoys for the sake of doing them. so what im saying is if he killed someone who cares. whatever. also we should all mass vote him forgiven/innocent just to spite kotoko after last nights birthday timeline post. AND because it would be funny as hell and the fandom flopped HARD voting haruka guilty/unforgiven. like god forbid girls have a little fun 🙄 btw its my firm belief that the tarot set we see in his mv (and i could talk a lot about the rest of the imagery used in that video but its almost 2am and ive rambled long enough) was designed by him during college. really funny to think about it like that. he does have one of the card designs (the. hangman, actually. i think) visible on a canvas in his apartment, partially obscured behind his couch at one point. so. lol

#milgram #guys named mikoto be like. normal with something wrong with them #my ramblings

[senadimell]

Boromir for the character ask?

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: Honestly? His focus. He's a problem-solver. He focuses on whatever task is in front of him, and while he's the golden child, I honestly don't know if he'd be the best fit for Steward because he seems to be at his best when he's thinking about concrete solutions to discrete problems.

Oh! The other thing is that he evaluates the advice given to him for what it is, not based on the authority of the advisor. He’s not going to accept bad advice just because it comes from a trustworthy source, and he’s going to be honest about his thoughts. So he’ll trust and respect the advice of the council of Elrond, but not to the point where he doesn’t ask questions or question things that don’t make sense (I’m thinking about Caradhras here) It’s a good skill to have as the de-facto heir to Gondor, and it makes sense that he’s not in awe of elves or Gandalf and acts among them as a guest but also as an equal at least in political status, though his experience is vastly more limited.

At the same time, he’s not arrogant or haughty. He's a team player. He’s supportive of decisions for the most part, though where the ring is concerned, things get skewy. He’s not the kind of person to rub mistakes back in your face. He’s compassionate and understanding (which we see even in the way he treats Frodo as he strives for the Ring).

least favorite thing about them: Honestly Boromir doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I suppose his positive traits are also double-edged swords. Focusing more on the advice than the giver sort of has Feanor vibes? And you can see where his focus leads him when he talks to Frodo about why he wants the ring and how he would use it. He can see his corner of the world (Gondor) and his place in saving it (political, but primarily military leadership), and it’s his practicality, drive, and focus that the Ring exploits. He’s too busy thinking about what he must do to save the day that he misses the grander scheme (yet he’s doing it because he cares! he cares!).

brOTP: Um, Faramir, I guess. Though I guess it’d be kinda sweet if he’s got a brotherly relationship with Bergil. I can easily imagine Bergil hero-worshipping Boromir, and so I think it’d be sweet if Boromir did acknowledge him and know him by name.

OTP: none? look, I rarely ship and even more rarely out of canon.

nOTP: also none? Shelob? The Ring?

random headcanon: I dunno...

unpopular opinion: boromir has dark hair Sean Bean is an actor he’s not the only face

So I feel like there’s a bit of a structural problem with the LotR fandom. Characters are often written in pairs or as foils, and inevitably the comparison starts to turn towards “who’s better?” Then, if you don’t ship them, there’s a tendency to aggrandize one character’s virtues and minimize their flaws (which tends to happen everywhere), but then the comparison game starts. Because they have a paired character, the natural next step is to lionize your favorite by de-emphasizing the other character’s strengths and virtues (and sometimes also highlighting their flaws). (I’m not immune to this by far, btw, and am possibly about to engage in it.)

This happen the most with Frodo and Sam, but I think you also see it in Boromir and Faramir. Because obviously, in the books, Faramir is the golden child. Not in his father’s eyes, of course, but narratively speaking. And I have mad respect for him.

Most people don’t try and diss Faramir (because frankly. it’s hard. like, what are you going to say?), but there’s a tendency to downplay the fact that Boromir is his culture’s golden child, and Faramir...isn’t. Which isn’t to say Faramir isn’t beloved by those who know him, but his strengths are not valued in the same way that Boromir’s are. Faramir knows this. And given Boromir’s attitudes discussed above (how confidently he assumes his position in the world), I can’t believe he’s the 100% supportive, loving, sensitive, protective brother that fanon depicts him as. I don’t see how he can be.

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe the brothers love each other deeply. But growing up with siblings has taught me that it’s possible to love someone and yet be deeply wounded by them due to the casual and inescapable intimacy of your relationship? You can share more inside jokes and weird stories than anyone, yet you can never get away from how deeply they know you--not your thoughts, but who you are at home and who you were when you were seven and how you acted when someone broke up with you or what you did when your parents were furious.

You also know exactly how you match up against them, because you will always exist as a unit. And because your relationship is as natural as the lens  in your eye (you can’t imagine viewing the world without it), you forget about the other as a person and just say something and don’t think about how it hurts them. You can joke about this one thing and your sibling can carry around the hurt for years and you didn’t even know. And maybe the hurt isn’t even your fault--maybe they were just sensitive and you had no way of knowing, but the hurt doesn’t go away for the lack of malice. And even best-friend siblings are capable of malice towards each other at times.

So Boromir is good at things that Faramir isn’t, and Boromir knows it. He’s probably ribbed his brother in what he thinks is a playful way about when you’re going to shape up, or do X, or do Y, or why do you do that, anyways, or do you realize that’s a little unbecoming? maybe you should stop that. You know Father’s going to think that you’re... And he doesn’t realize how those slights can add up over the years. I do think he’s said things to his peers about his brother that have ended up hurting him. No matter how pure and nice he is, that sort of thing is unavoidable, and due to his cultural upbringing I don’t actually think he’d question the appropriateness of his attitude/acceptance and glorification of martial prowess at the expense of those who don’t have it in the same degree.

I think this passage is really telling:

For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me. 'In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:          Seek for the Sword that was broken:          In Imladris it dwells;          There shall be counsels taken          Stronger than Morgul-spells.          There shall be shown a token          That Doom is near at hand,          For Isildur's Bane shall waken,          And the Halfling forth shall stand. Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor. This only would he say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters. Therefore my brother, seeing how desperate was our need, was eager to heed  the  dream and seek for  Imladris; but since the way was full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loth was my father to  give  me leave, and long have I wandered by roads forgotten, seeking the house of Elrond, of which many had heard, but few knew where it lay.' 

There’s so much you can read into this. Faramir has this dream, and he has it many times. We know he’s a lover of lore and no less devoted to his kingdom than Boromir, though his love is expressed differently. He is “eager” to heed the dream. So would I if I was having prophecy dreams all the time.

But is Faramir a member of the fellowship? No. Why? Because Boromir “took it upon himself.” He wanted to do it, he thought himself the better candidate (and Faramir the worse), and he argued his way into doing it against his father’s wishes. Coupled with Denethor’s later attitude towards Boromir, I’m inclined to believe Boromir was uniquely able to obtain this quest for himself because Denethor has a soft spot for him.

I find myself inclined to disregard Boromir’s account of Faramir’s motive (”how desparate was our need”), because it sounds like he’s justifying the appropriateness of his actions.  If it’s just about the great need of the kingdom, it’s nothing personal that one brother goes and the other stays. That view implies  that Faramir’s interest in this mission is primarily utilitarian in purpose, with a little academic curiosity--that is, it’s nothing personal. Doesn’t matter who goes! Not as long as we protect the kingdom! Which...just doesn’t square with his description of Faramir having repeatedly cryptic dreams that he wants to understand. I can almost guarantee that Faramir wants to know what those dreams meant more than Boromir.

It’s a bit tragic, because ultimately Faramir was more suited for the quest than Boromir (tramping about in the wilderness doesn’t seem to be a problem, he’s also a team player, and he’s much more willing to accept the power of the Ring/not downplay its personal danger, and would be able to see it in a bigger picture beyond just Gondor). Ultimately, though, if Boromir was the one to catch Frodo in Ithillien, the story would have a veeeeeeery different ending. (Gollum would likely be dead, and I can’t imagine he’d be inclined to just. let Frodo and Sam go free.)

I kind of view their relationship as a much less antagonistic version of Agravain and Gwalchmai from Gillian Bradshaw. (Agravain is more of a jerk than I can ever imagine Boromir being, and has a wicked temper). 

Also none of this is to say that I don’t think he’s not protective of his brother.

So a lot of words to say: I don’t think the Boromir and Faramir relationship is as uwu cinnamon roll as it seems in fandom. I think they loved each other, but I think Boromir did have a tendency to take what he wanted when he thought he deserved it and not give it a second thought, even when it was at the expense of his brother. Sure, he’d defend his brother night and day, but I expect him to be a bit of a jerk, be unaware of the extent of his behavior, and also see little wrong with it (the ring quest seems to have crossed a line, by the way he justifies it).

Still, they do love each other deeply and genuinely. It’s just a little more conflicted.

song i associate with them: Requiem, from Dear Evan Hanson. Not a particularly creative association (and I don’t associate him with Connor at all), but his death comes as such a shock at the beginning of TTT and brings with it so many mixed feelings due to both their relationship and the circumstances of his death. Nobody’s mourning is straightforward: not Frodo, or Denethor, or Faramir, or Aragorn, or Merry, or Pippin. His absense is woven throughout TTT and even RotK, in plot and in emotion and in theme.

favorite picture of them:

Don’t really have a favorite, but this one is nice.

The Sean Bean runners-up: one, two

#asks #answers #boromir #did not think i had this many thoughts about boromir! #thank you so much for the ask!

[aileysmirnov]

Loki x Ailey hc! part 1

I was watching Thor Ragnarok with some friends (over zoom ofc) and then It popped up in my head a conversation that I had with @melyaliz and Alex (ig: shir.0_guru) a while back, and I couldn't shake it off my brain as I was trying to write some other thing. So hopefully writing this down would apace my mind.

TW: Arranged marriage, depictions of emotional/psychological abuse

Summary: Eris and Odin find a solution to what's been threatening their domains, an alliance between 2 of the most powerful families, but Ailey and Loki don't seem so keen about it.

Disclaimer/notes: Ailey is my OC! You can learn more about her in here!

Ailey has finally been reunited with most of her family and entered the realm of gods in this AU.

Samaras is the last name of the Eris family, they are rulers of Thera (Eris kingdom) and each member bears a royal title.

Ailey is the only demi-goddess in her family, Demigods are seen as shameful in this AU and usually they have a birthmark and a weakness that distinguishes them as such. In Ailey's case is her golden rose hair once she transforms in her god-form and her weakness is her allergy to gold, it practically burns her skin, debilitates her magic and herself, is like kryptonite for her.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

The only reason they even know about the other, is because of their parents: Eris had been in conflict with Ares lately, and one of his recent attacks greatly debilitated her army and Odin had trouble with a few of the realms under his command forming complots against him and the safety of Asgard.

Both rulers found themselves in need of the other: Odin had the greatest warriors and military at his service, and Eris being the goddess of discord could easily rise or disipate any conflict that may come her way (except for Ares ofc), an easy way in or out of war.

And so, they decided to form an alliance; But Odin being the wise men he is, knew better than to trust blindly in the goddess of chaos, after all...Eris was known for being a backstabber who acted only to beneficiate her own interests.

To prevent that, Odin decided to make the alliance under the condition that one member of the Samaras family must marry the second son: Loki, God of mischief. And so, Eris agreed and offered her youngest daughter: Ailey goddess of ruin and folly.

God it was an absolute mess since the beginning!

Frigga was the one to inform Loki, who immediately went to Odin to protest, but like always his father ignored him, shutting him down by comparing him to his brother and how he would do anything to protect Asgard but Loki was being selfish.

Ailey in the other hand was kept ignorant of such decision and only knew about it a few hours before the engagement party began and only because a servant accidentally told her.

She was furious and much like Loki tried to protest but Eris couldn't care less about her daughter's opinion.

Ailey could rage all she wanted, Eris wasn't even paying attention, the only thing she was accomplishing was in making her angry.

—Child, I think you tend to forget your place in this world, you see: among humans you might be...special but in here... you're just an idiot with too much privilege—Eris had a way with words that could make them feel like poison, creeping in to the insecurities of one's heart.

—If it weren't for me and your brothers, you would be Hera's new toy, so please remember, dear. You not only owe me but to your brothers and this kingdom as well.

Ailey headed back to her room feeling ashamed and angry, she felt her mother's words had some truth in them, seeing as how different she was viewed here in comparison to the human realm.

When the time came for the engagement party and for Ailey and Loki to meet for the first time, is fair to say neither of them were in a good mood.

Even though deep inside they knew both of them didn't have any say in the matter and were pretty much in the same situation; they still felt irrationally mad at each other, that's why since the moment they met to the end of the ceremony they would throw little passive-aggressive remarks at each other.

She viewed him as a pretentious asshole, and He saw her as a spoiled brat.

Almost near the end of the celebration and no announcement had been made so Eris took it upon herself to throw them into the spotlight.

—I believe you two have something important to share with all of us—her face was smiling but her eyes were threatening.

Ailey bit the inner side of her cheek, rolled her eyes as she turned to face Loki who only gave an exasperated sigh before speaking in a monotone voice

—Do you want to marry me?—he didn't even bothered to get on one knee and just extended the ring for her to take.

Ailey felt tempted to say "no" and walk away gracefully but doing that would probably have a negative impact on Thera, so after a long pause she answered.

—Whatever—and put the ring on, herself.

Clearly a good start :) .

I think they didn't saw each other that much afterwards and when they did it was mostly for wedding arrangements in which they continued with the passive-aggressive comments but this time about everything the other would pick.

The mood was so uncomfortable every time they were together everyone around them was like:

I think that sometimes they would have moments where they realize they had been too harsh with the other and would tone it down a little but treating each other like that was the only way of protest that was allowed for them.

Specially for Loki since he constantly had to travel to Thera bc for some reason unknown to him Ailey refused to go to Asgard, which only made his negative opinion on her grow.

In his mind, it was probably because she thought she was too good for Asgard but the reality was: Asgard is practically a death sentence for Ailey since 90% of every building in there was made of gold.

But she will never tell him that.

I think their first "moment of closeness" came to be purely out of the realization neither of them had any option other than get married or see their domains destroyed.

So, they decided to call it a truce: both would play along with the whole marriage fiasco for a while until things died down and then they could divorce and pretend they never even met.

And so, the passive-aggressive comments slowly died down, not that they started acting like lovers all of a sudden, instead they acted like they were just... co-workers or something.

They would greet each other in a formal manner and then only talked about the arrangements and left, nothing else.

But then, inevitably they started to get closer.

It was something so gradual none of them really knew how it happened.

It started off with small comments about decoration ideas for the venue, it turns out they both had quite the interest in interior design.

Eventually those small comments became lengthy conversations about which combination of colors would look the best.

When it came down to learning about the nobility attending the wedding on each side, both would spend a little more time together. Studying the proper way on how to address them and their interests all for the possibility in forming new alliances.

But I feel like instead they would roast the hell out of them, like they would be going through a list of the Asgardian nobility that were to attend and Ailey would just point at a picture of a random Asgardian noble and go: "Oh. My. God. what is he even wearing?"

And Loki would try to force back a smile or a laugh but eventually he would just give in and start joining Ailey in the roasting.

They also have a very similar sense of humor, but Ailey is just more blunt and open about it while Loki isn't, I feel like most of the time he has genius comebacks to stupid comments people make but he's a gentleman and normally just keeps it to himself or would only say it in a polite but slightly aggressive manner, so when Ailey just bluntly says something similar to what he was thinking he can't help but laugh a bit (he won't admit to it though)

Other things Ailey and Loki have in common is their love for drama and spectacle, while Ailey is more of a ballet/dance-based plays person, she understands Loki’s enthusiasm for theater and books even sharing some of it herself.

Not only they enjoy these things, but they also found comfort in them: For Ailey ballet began as something her mother forced upon her but transformed in an outlet for her emotions and a way to connect and control her powers.

For Loki theater was a form of escapism since he was a child, every time he felt like he didn’t belong he found a safe place in countless stories of the misunderstood heroes.

This only makes their bond grow deeper; up until this point they never had anyone to talk to about their interests in such depth, so now they talk all the time about it, sometimes they would surprise themselves looking forward to the next meeting just to gush about a new play or book they just saw or read.

I feel like Loki might’ve even lend Ailey some copies of his favorite books and Ailey as a “thank you” decided to sneek out with him to the human realm to watch "Tristan und Isolde".

Everyone is able to notice the change in attitude of these two, especially Thor who only had heard about the girl but could tell how happy she made him every time Loki would mention her.

And he was happy for his brother but felt curious about his soon to be sister-in-law.

So, it was only natural when Thor asked Loki if he could tag along the next time he went to Thera.

He said no.

Thor went anyways.

When Ailey met him, she could only think about one thing: "he himbo" which she thought was cute btw.

Thor could see why Loki liked this girl so much, they were practically the same, which he found sweet yet amusing.

—Lady Ailey, a pleasure to meet you, mi brother has told me a lot about you!—he stated.

—Really?!—Ailey questioned directing an incredulous glance at Loki. 

—He asked­—Loki tried to defend himself by downplaying his brother statement. 

—No, I didn’t.—Thor retaliated with a mocking smile, he could tell his brother felt embarrassed so he decided to tease him a bit more. 

—In fact, he won’t shut up about you. 

—That’s not true, he’s just.. 

—No, he’s all the time saying Ailey this, Ailey that. It peaked my curiosity and so here I am… 

—Brother, Could you shut up?—Ailey could only smile and hold back a laugh at the brothers spontaneous quarrel. 

Truth is she thought it was sweet of Loki to talk about her with his brother. And teases him about it afterwards.

I think Thor might talk privately with Ailey and would ask her to take care of his brother. 

—I know Loki can be a bit…difficult, but have patience with him, I can tell he really likes you. 

And Thor was correct, Loki really did like her. But it might take a while for him to come to terms with his feelings, and would only manifest in small gestures towards Ailey, like: tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, subconsciously offering his arm for her to take as support when walking down the stairs, placing a hand on the small of her back as guidance whenever they were in a crowded space, sneaking small glances at her, etc.

Overall, he starts acting a lot softer with her, a lot more caring.

Ailey might be a bit oblivious to this (since she’s only used to overly sexual advances and has a difficult time understanding genuine affection), but she appreciates it none the less.

And both might even find themselves thinking that maybe…just maybe spending the rest of their lives together isn’t a bad idea after all.

#ailey #oc #dc #dc comics #oc edit #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki headcanon #loki hc #loki x reader #loki x oc #loki x ailey #yulia rose #tom hiddleston #loki

[elenatria]

That moment in the 1x02 Chernobyl episode when Bryukhanov attacks Legasov because he can't tell how the reactor can explode, then mocks him, and Legasov is troubled, so Boris steps up and asks Bryukhanov about the graphite on the roof, and he's like "How dare you? Only I can yell at Valery. Am I clear?" And my heart bursted.

HHAHAHAHHA omg it never occurred to me to see it that way?? Brilliant. A want a ficlet on that scene.

You know what, it’s about time people got to know why this pairing is so hot and tragic and inspiring and and… And I mean I’m not crazy for shipping them, am I?? I mean ok ok “real people with tragic destinies” etc etc but but b-but the writer and the actors are doing SUCH a great job giving us the enemies-to-friends (or lovers) trope so effortlessly in a matter of, like, two episodes (btw I didn’t need two episodes, just the first time they met was enough for me to ship them hahah am I nuts or am I nuts). 

Alright, SPOILERS.

So at the end of the first episode Boris Shcherbina, the head of the Bureau for Fuel and Energy (aka aggressive, unapologetic apparatchik and bureaucrat), is calling Valery Legasov,  the first deputy director of the Kurchatov Institute of Atomic Energy (aka awkward nerdy idealist scientist), to bark some orders at him and essentially tell him “We don’t want your opinion, nerd, you’re here to answer questions, nothing more, kbye.” So at their very first contact Boris is rude, entitled and arrogant to Valery, even hanging up on him.

In the second episode Valery reads Boris’ report and freaks out. When he joins General Secretary Gorbachev’s committee, Boris tries to downplay  the disaster, his arms sprawled out all over the armchair as if nothing happened. and looks at Valery in utter disbelief when the scientist tries to convince everyone how serious things are. Obviously Boris would rather be home with his wife or something. Btw in the show Valery doesn’t have a wife, he only has a cat, cat=loneliness, geddit?

When Gorbachev orders them both to visit the power plant Boris cannot believe his ears. He’s stuck with this annoying nerd, a scientist for crying out loud, a know-it-all, the kind he obviously hates because, as an apparatchik, he probably climbed the social ladder through his connections in the party and not through studying. So he obviously loathes anyone who knows more than him. He’s an alpha and wants to remain one.

Look at his face and body language when they’re left alone, he’s totally blaming the Nerd for becoming a burden. His burden.

Here it is, the “unlikely partners” trope. 

And now things start to get interesting.

As they walk towards the helicopter Boris is totally ignoring Valery. They’re not exchanging a single glance.

In the helicopter Boris asks Valery how a nuclear reactor works. Valery finds it difficult to explain and Boris quickly shows how inferior he feels to anyone who has studied more than him, so he puts on his aggressive and arrogant facade.

He acts SO entitled that he even threatens Valery that he’ll have him killed if he doesn’t explain how the reactor works.

At this point Boris inspires nothing but fear and disgust.

HOWEVER when Valery fidgets his pockets trying to find something to write on Boris is quick to give him both a pen and a piece of paper. Even if he has his poker face on, his gesture is clear. He’s helping Valery for the first time and not just because he wants to learn about reactors.

When Boris quickly catches the metaphor of the neutron being like a “bullet” Valery seems startled. Apparently Boris is a good student, who would have thought!

But as soon as the explaining is over Boris shuts Valery out once more saying he doesn’t need him anymore. Entitled and arrogant af.

Now it’s Valery’s turn to seethe internally because he’s stuck with this total asshole. 

Aaaaand then we get to the part when I totally flinched in surprise and I was like… “Okayyyyy do they want us to ship them now or what?…”

Because Valery, in a state of panic, finds the courage (or might I say, has the nerve) to call Boris by his first name (back then Soviet people would call each other by both names as a sign of respect). Valery probably mimicked Gorbachev using “Boris” in the previous scene but Boris simply. Won’t. Have it. 

He instantly snaps at the unexpected intimacy and I’m over here fangirling like crazy because who else would snap at terms of endearment and intimacy but a man who’s not used to it - and is probably craving for it. But not from this carrot-headed Nerd. Definitely not from him, he loathes the guy, okay??

Boris exercises his power once more threatening to have the pilot shot if he doesn’t fly over the reactor and for the first time Valery manages to “outrank” him by explaining to the pilot why he’d rather be shot than fly over the reactor. Valery convinces the pilot to disobey Boris - power play at its best. Boris is clearly defeated, maybe he’s never been defeated before.

And this is the first time Boris touches Valery (hopefully not the last).

As the helicopter turns to avoid the reactor Valery trips and almost falls on Boris’ lap. Notice how Boris doesn’t push him away but he rather steadies him and helps him sit. For a man who loathes his partner and is not used to intimacy he’s rather… well-behaved.

Of course the look on his face when the scene ends says it all: “You’ll pay for this, nerd.”

We’re 25 minutes into the episode and we finally see a glint of doubt in Boris’ eyes when Chief Engineer Fomin and the plant’s director Bryukhanov mouth off to Valery, disrespecting him and questioning his expertise and patriotism. For some reason something clicks inside Boris. Maybe he too had dealt with too many people doubting him and treating him like shit in the past. Maybe he feels Valery, for all his obnoxiousness, doesn’t deserve that kind of behaviour. Maybe the proud Head of the Bureau for Fuel and Energy will lose face if his partner is disgraced. Another nanosecond of doubt and he decides to step up. He uses Valery’s observations to talk about the core exploding.

At first I thought “Oh goooood I can’t believe this asshole is ripping off Valery’s observations to act all clever in front of his inferiors. What an asshole.”

But it turns out that he’s siding with Valery and starts to trust his judgement and expertise. Maybe because, for all his lack of formal education, he’s too clever to not know suck ups, cowards and liars when he sees them.

Next he challenges the two men to prove Valery wrong. Perhaps he does want to prove Valery wrong and ridicule him. Or perhaps he’s rooting for him already.

When Valery pushes him to evacuate Pripyat, Boris snaps again. He’s not here to follow the Nerd’s orders.

But the very next minute Boris walks away with the promise to get Valery as much boron and sand as he needs to put out the fire, like a king eager to impress his betrothed. “I’m going to get YOU.”

As soon as Boris leaves, General Pikalov is quick to offer Valery some help.

Because they both know they have long days and long nights ahead of them.

I will come back to the subject of the hotel in my next post. There’s another fanfiction trope right there, two unlikely partners forced to stay in the same hotel (or hotel room if you want your imagination to run wild). YESSSS.

Cut to the hotel room. An exhausted Valery massages his own neck (oh baby I’m sure you would like someone else to massage it for you.)

Boris enters his room (*their* room..?) without knocking - apparently someone doesn’t feel the need to lock his door. 

Boris is happy to announce they’ve been successful at dropping sand and boron into the reactor but Valery doesn’t share his cheerfulness.

AND THIS IS WHEN BORIS STARTS CARING ABOUT VALERY’S OPINION AND FEELINGS. The “what?” cliche when someone is not reacting while his friend/lover is begging for a response. Because. Boris. Needs. Valery’s. Approval. That’s why.

Valery insists that the city should be evacuated and Boris reassures him that they’re staying there “so it must be safe.”

But the way he utters those words in a hoarse whisper, shaking his head confidently, is almost like he’s saying “I’m glad we are staying here. Together.”

When Valery gets carried away and slaps Boris in the face with the horrible truth, Boris loses the ground beneath him.

But he doesn’t look just shocked. He looks hurt. Hurt that Valery didn’t sweeten the pill for him. 

Valery instantly regrets his bluntness and takes a step towards Boris as if to comfort a helpless child. Or a very good friend. But he can’t really hug him, shush him and tell him everything is going to be okay, can he? So he takes a step back.

“I’m sorry”…? What?? You just met the guy and you hate him and he hates you! Get a grip!!!

Boris feels so horrible that it takes him ages to pick up the phone.

When they join Gorbachev’s committee again to brief him on the crisis Boris seems totally lost, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by Valery who stares at him, concerned.

When Boris finally comes to terms with his own mortality he steps up once more, taking control of the situation. Valery fails to convince the workers to go to the basement and open the valves and that moment…  I just knew it was Boris’ turn for a glorious inspirational speech. And boy, does he deliver. Best, most laconic, most convincing inspirational speech I’ve ever seen. He appeals to the workers’ patriotism and self-sacrifice and he succeeds. So he’s not educated and he’s not as clever as a scientist but his true talent shines here, that of leadership. Inspiring people to do the right thing, like a true general. They’re at war and Boris knows he’s the man for the job. 

And now it’s Valery’s turn to look at him in utter awe.

“That’s him. That’s my guy.”

And I haven’t even talked about episode 3 yet. 

Oh god, ep 3, I mean…

#spoilers #chernobyl #jared harris #stellan skarsgard #valery legasov #boris shcherbina #valoris

[anarcho-smarmyism]

God i fucking feel the whole psychiatrists are shit / fuck the medical system vibe. My shrink ignored and downplayed my complaints about antidepressants and kept increasing the dose until i went full on manic state mode. Now i dont trust anyone and im still suffering lmfao

yeah you would not BELIEVE the shit i had to do to get doctors in Texas to take me seriously about any mental disorder that wasn’t either bipolar, anxiety, or depression. people really think that it’s just as simple as “getting up and going to the doctor!!!” but in reality it’s more like: 

(this got WAY long so it’s under a cut lmao) (trigger warning for basically everything you can imagine btw)

fucking read up on the DSM, try to figure out which symptoms you have, go on goddamn tumblr and sort through the tags of various MIs until you find someone who seems like they’re not full of shit (professionally diagnosed or otherwise). try to have conversations with these people about these conditions, and what it’s like to live with them meanwhile a bunch of irrelevant assholes are hounding you trying to “prove” you’re lying for attention or something. go look through forums of people with the Edgy mental illness you think you might have, watch how they talk, try to figure out if that’s what you do, or if maybe you’re just over analyzing, or paranoid, or something.

THEN you gotta make calls and calls and calls trying to get seen by a real doctor in the first goddamn place. the only ones that take medicaid are shitty and obviously mostly aimed at “rehabilitating” addicts, but you take what you can get. meet the doctor and be polite and try to, like, surreptitiously feel out whether you can be honest, or need to heavily edit what you tell them so you don’t end up fucking institutionalized. pretend you’re too stupid to use Google and you’ve never heard of the DSM, try to describe the symptoms you have as honestly as you can without letting on that you’ve done any of your own research. have the motherfucker blow you off and say you can’t possibly have what you think you have because you’re “too nice” or “too self-aware” or because you’re in any way interested in self-improvement that you can’t POSSIBLY have a personality disorder. finally convince him that it’s possible you MIGHT have a cluster B personality disorder, but he won’t diagnose it because of ~the stigma~. get prescribed whatever standard mood stabilizers and anti-anxiety he feels like giving you.

go to see a therapist. the therapist ALSO does not believe you when you say you may be dealing with something worse than “depression and anxiety”. when you talk about why you think you have the thing, she asks a million weird, invasive questions that sound like she thinks you live in a fucking Lifetime movie. she OBVIOUSLY doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but she’s a ~professional~ and you’re not, so you just try your best to get whatever out of it you can. you get very, very little out of it, because she’s trying to treat “depression and anxiety”, and that’s not what you have, and she is not qualified to treat what you have, and you both know it, but you’re poor and can’t afford a doctor who’s qualified. all the doctors keep telling you about the godawful stigma and telling you how you want to “avoid the label”. you try to explain that you don’t give a fuck about the label or the diagnosis, you just want the treatment. they obviously don’t believe you, and obviously think you can’t tell that they don’t believe you.

so you think, fuck it. i’ll do it myself. i’ll talk to people online who have the Edgy mental illness i think i have, i’ll ask for their advice. and they actually have good, practical, helpful advice! they share worksheets and stories and tell you ways to cope. and it’s hard and it sucks at first, but you practice and it gets easier. but if you ever try to talk to people irl about that? you’re full of shit. you’re making it up, you’re too crazy or stupid or young, too female and too poor, to know what you’re talking about. “you gotta go talk to the PROFESSIONALS”, people insist. “you gotta get a DOCTOR to tell you what’s going on.” try all day to convince any of them that the doctors are sometimes full of shit. it won’t work. it will NEVER work. you are too easy to dismiss and Professional Authorities are too easy to believe.

and the people who don’t tell you to have blind faith in The Professional Doctor Authority? they tell you that “it’s all in your head”. they tell you, if you would just Buck Up and Try Harder, the shit would go away. they say everyone gets sad sometimes and if you try to explain you didn’t just “get sad”, they roll their eyes and say you’re dramatic. exaggerating. it’s just How Your Generation Is. entitled and spoiled. oh what, you’ve been dirt poor for the last decade? you actually DIDN’T always have laptops and iphones and wifi and all that shit? oh whatever, that’s a fluke, doesn’t really count, you’re STILL entitled because of your “””generation””””

one day, after you’ve been having panic attacks nigh on constantly and deliriously telling yourself that you’re just imagining it, you’re just MAKING IT UP, eventually realize there’s no way you’re making this up. that you don’t know what you’ll do if you don’t get help soon. someone tells you, if you’re thinking about killing yourself, just call the hotline! they’ll help you! you’re suspicious, but what you’ve been doing isn’t working. so you give it a shot. you call them and tell them what you’re going through. they tell you to go to the ER. you go to the ER, they ask you questions, reassure you that you really do need to be here, then have some fuckin’ cop tell you, very slowly and softly, that he’s gonna walk you across a parking lot to a building where they’re gonna help you. for some reason he jokes about how ugly the walls on the inside are. you do not give a SINGLE fuck about how the walls look, but you’re “a girl” and you’re in texas, so you act like it’s funny. he’s annoying you, but he’s also obviously trying to help. you shouldn’t blame him for not knowing how. he’s a cop, not a doctor.

when you get to the building, you talk to a woman who asks you what’s going on. you tell her the truth, she tells you it’s okay if you need to pace around, then she tells you that you should never go through the ER because that’s a $1000 bill. you’ve never even seen a thousand dollars in cash before. what the fuck? she tells you you’re gonna stay for probably about 3 days, and then they tell you to sit on a bench, in a room by yourself, nothing to occupy yourself with but a fucking TV blaring news about the weather, apparently there’s a big storm somewhere and people are scared. you are hysterically crying and panicking and they leave you there for HOURS. you think maybe you’re in purgatory. you hear doctors in the next room laughing, talking cordially. your mind is devouring itself as you sit there shaking and trying to hold it together through faith and tenacity alone, and this is just another day at work for them.

before they’ll let you in, they strip search you. they count your scars and comment, almost laughing, to one another about how many there are, how neat they are. where you hid them. you try to make conversation and they ignore you. you are not a person, you are a patient. you want to scream at them but you know that will only make things worse, so you grit your teeth and stare into space and try not to react to anything at all. finally they believe you aren’t hiding anything and they walk you into the room with the other “general” patients. the woman says something about how “some of them are quiet and some of them are loud”. she smiles at you and you want to tear her fucking face off but you know she just doesn’t know what to say. there’s nothing to say. so you just nod and go talk to some of the other patients. they’re pretty cool, pretty nice. they try to hug you but they get yelled at for it. touching isn’t allowed.

you dont even realize for a couple hours that you’re still wearing the thin blue hospital clothes they gave you after they strip searched you. you have to go ask one of the nurses to give you your clothes and let you into a room to change. you put on your clothes, feeling slightly more human, but you still have to wear those goddamn socks instead of shoes, because your shoes are too beat up and shitty to wear without the laces. you zone out for a while and at some point, realize that while you were hysterically sobbing and packing some clothes and notebooks and books to take with you (most of which they would confiscate, telling you to go read some boring magazines about babies and dating and flowers and shit), you without realizing it, grabbed your Harley Quinn t shirt. the one where she’s looking at the camera, smirking as two cops are, apparently, about to drag her away for questioning. for some reason this is the funniest thing that has EVER happened to you. you start laughing and you can’t stop, and everyone looks at you like you’re crazy -the patients look concerned, the nurses look smug and knowing.

you eventually get it together. you remember you can’t sleep without the mood stabilizers you’ve been prescribed. you tell the nurses that, tell them you brought the pills with you, should be with your things. they politely blow you off with what is clearly a canned response, saying you’ll be able to talk to a doctor tomorrow. they ask you what your dose was, you say you don’t remember but you think it was 200mg, you tell them your doctors’ name so they can check. they nod understandingly and you think they’re gonna check. (you will later find out that they just took your word for it, and you were WAY off; you were only on 50mg. they gave you 200mg anyway. you later find out how fucking lucky you were that quadrupling your dose didn’t ACTUALLY fucking kill you.) when you eventually give up on sleeping at 4am and drag yourself up to pour some of the shitty hospital coffee they’re serving, the nurses ask you how you slept and act surprised when you say that you didn’t. “oh, you poor thing.” then they ask when’s the last time you ate and when’s the last time you took a shit and blah, blah, blah. you don’t remember most of it.

when you try to talk to any of the nurses about trying to actually TALK to someone about what you’re dealing with, they tell you they “don’t do that here”. they tell you that’s the “outpatient program”. they make you go to group where they hand out these cute little pamphlets with cute little cartoon stereotypes of people in abusive homes, make you all go around and say which one you are. the nurses think you don’t notice them smirking at you, but you do. during group one day, they talk about a man who lost his wife of 50 years and who was smiling and whistling the next day, because when asked if the cup is half empty or half full, he replies "it's a beautiful cup". the girl about your age who came here after a bender for help with her drinking problem thinks that is so profound that when she gets out of here, she goes and gets a tattoo of a cup with that quote. later, you will admire her tattoo and be happy that the story helped her. on the other hand, they also say things like that "every situation can be good". they use the example of the big storms that are currently happening, somewhere in the world: the storm is bad, but look at how people are helping each other! it's a good thing, after all! the other patients smile. you don't; you say, but a lot of people still died. a lot of people still lost their homes. that's bad. it doesn't matter if some people also helped. the nurses glance at each other nervously and double down: no, you have to "find the good" in the situation. they smile at you and tell you patronizingly how very, very smart you are. you know that's not a compliment, and you also know that THEY don't know that it isn't a compliment. you decide to just keep your mouth shut; the other patients seem to be comforted by this crap. who are you to tell them they're wrong? you shut up.

every night, one of the nurses announces that she is a motivational speaker “outside of here” and talks about Jesus and Overcoming Adversity for about twenty minutes. she clearly has been through some real shit in her life, and she also clearly believes she is really, really helping somebody with her Motivational Speeches. you don’t know if anyone else is getting something out of this -other people are often comforted by things that seem completely ridiculous to you- but you suspect they don’t. whatever. good luck getting her to shut up about whatever she’s on about. (you confess to the doctor later that day that you sometimes think about hurting people. that night, the Motivational Speaker talks specifically about ‘wanting to hurt people’. you pay close attention, knowing she thinks she’s helping, but actually just thinking that they were lying their asses off when they said this shit was confidential. you think to yourself that you need to remember that.) at one point she tells a story about a girl who tried to kill herself and failed, ended up paralyzed. the moral of the story, she says, is that “if you try to end your life before God is ready to take you, he may send you back worse off”. you stare at her and wonder, vaguely, how anyone worships the God you worship and talks about Him like that, like he’s some evil tyrant who would paralyze a child because she wanted to end it all, had the audacity to believe her life was her own to do with as she pleases. you are used to other Christians talking about God that way by now.

the main benefit of being in here is that you get actual, real anxiety medications -not the cheap, weak shit that Texas prescribes poor people asking for anxiety medications. that, and you’re in a safe place. well, not completely safe; a man much older and quite a bit taller than you overhears you and another inmate trading sex stories, most of them sapphic. he sits next to the two of you and listens to you talk for about fifteen minutes, then gets up and says something about d*kes being disgusting. you joke about him, but nervously. the other girl tells you “well if he tries anything, i’ll kill him”. you laugh and say thank you, but you know that’s bullshit. if he tries anything, everyone around you will be too late to help you. you think oh, maybe i’ll just avoid him, but the next time you go to get coffee he glares at you like he wishes you were dead, shakes his hand at you limply, and it takes you a second to remember that it’s sign language for “f*ggot”. you flip him off, but then go tell the nurses about it. you’re very careful to specify he didn’t actually threaten you, ‘cause he’s a black man and you don’t want to get him in Real trouble for “threatening” a white girl when he didn’t. the nurses tell you to “remember where you are” and that people in here are sick. you nod and say yeah, it’s probably fine. he probably won’t do anything. he has to sleep in a separate room from you, anyways.

at some point, you’re playing cards with about five other patients. talking and shooting the shit, starting to enjoy yourself. one of the guys who is in here for a suicide attempt keeps making “jokes” where the punchline is that women did something sexual. people keep not laughing and he’s obviously getting frustrated that people laugh at your jokes more than his. he starts talking shit about “sluts” and you try to, politely, reasonably, tell him that it isn’t his business who anyone sleeps with, that so long as nobody is lying or getting hurt, everybody has the right to sleep with whoever they want. he slams his hand on the table and says, “No! It’s disgusting and it needs to be destroyed.” He stalks off, too furious for words. You glance at the other “slut”, the same girl you talked about being gay with, and she agrees. everyone else takes his side, follows him around reassuring him that he totally respects women, and you’re just a crazy bitchy SJW. you know you’re right and you know he’s not just some poor wounded frat boy. you know he’s an actual danger to any woman he’s around. you also know that no one will believe you, so you just try to hold your tongue and not pick fights with him, because it doesn’t matter if you’re right. everyone will take his side. everyone always takes the man’s side.

eventually, 3 days are up. you feel calmer but just as empty and lost as you did before, except now you are approximately $2k in debt. you go to a nearby elementary school’s park, even though it’s overcast and cold, and you sit on a swingset and stare into space. there are a couple of kids there, but you figure so long as you leave them alone it’s okay. you stare into space for a good twenty minutes before you realize you still have that fucking bracelet on, the one with a bar code that they would scan every time they called you up to get your pills. you tear it off viciously, immediately. 

a few minutes later, a woman walks out of her house, across the street, toward you. you watch her curiously. she approaches you and asks you “if you know where to get any bud”. you say sweetly, “i’m sorry, i don’t,” as if you don’t know for a fact that the woman is a cop because you live on this block, and have seen her cruiser, and also what fucking stoner walks up to someone they don’t know and asks for pot in front of 2 children and on a public school’s property? she wasn’t even dressed like a stoner, for fuck’s sake; just a cop’s approximation of what a stoner looks like. jeans and an oversized t-shirt and hoodie. please. was she even trying, or do cops really just think all stoners are complete morons? do you really look like that much of a stoner right now? doesn’t matter, anyways. you knew she was a cop, and you never tell strangers you do anything illegal anyways -not when you remember to watch your mouth, at least.

the outpatient program turns out to be more of the same bullshit. starts at 7am and they make you empty your pockets and stand with your arms out so they can use a metal detector on you and make sure you’re not smuggling anything in. they make you put your knife in your locker, and that annoys you because you always carry your knife with you when you’re not at home, but you know if you say that they’ll think you’re Violent. so you put it up and feel naked and exposed and try to act like everything is fine. try to be civil with people while you’re tired and irritable and everything is so fucking stupid but you never know, right? maybe they do have SOMETHING to teach you. maybe you’re just being full of yourself thinking these people are full of shit. so you make the pain in the ass arrangements for the little bus to come pick you up, dodging questions about whether the car outside your house runs and whether you have a license and whether it would be technically possible for you to drive yourself, even though you don’t have a license still and you know for a fact if you get pulled over for driving without a license it may be years until you can actually get your license.

the ‘group therapy’ in the outpatient program turns out to be mostly about making fucking collages and shit. they hand out pamphlets about Christianity and about how a butterfly can’t become a butterfly if it doesn’t fight its way through its cocoon. one of the days, the woman leading the group will not shut the fuck up about how she “knows” that talking to a different woman in a different room is going to give you all soooooo much anxiety. you want to tell her to fuck off, but you figure she’s just really green, they’re probably using you all to break in the brand-new “therapists”. you smile at her and make nice because she’s obnoxious and dumb but she’s trying. the woman who usually leads the group is obviously annoyed with you; you are too blunt, too aggressive, too confident in yourself, even now, even at rock bottom (except fuck,don’t tell yourself this is rock bottom, don’t say that, because then like clockwork, the rug will be torn from under you and you’ll find a way to sink even lower), for this woman’s comfort. you try AGAIN to tell her what you think you have. she tells you there’s no way you have it because you’re “too self aware”. you irritably explain that you think there is a strong possibility you do have it, and you explain why, and you try very hard not to scream when the most you can get out of her is some empty platitudes about “having self control” and “seeing the other person’s point of view”.

when she leaves the room, the other patients commiserate with you about what a fucking waste of time this is. one of them is mourning the death of her daughter, lost to suicide when she wasn’t even in high school yet, and she went to the office like she was supposed to, and had an argument with the girl working there and annoyed the girl, so the girl claimed that she was “suicidal” even though the patient said she’d been dealing with depression for decades and knew it wasn’t an emergency, and that’s why she was even here. she starts crying in group and you wonder if you should go up and hug her, or that would be overstepping a boundary. you stare helplessly. the woman leading group watches sympathetically for a few seconds, clears her throat, and diverts the conversation back to her lesson plan.

at some point, they call you in to talk to a doctor. there are three people about your age also in the room, writing stuff down on notepads. one of them asks you questions about every possible trauma and hardship you may have gone through. after you admit to each one she says softly, “im sorry that happened to you.” you are grateful to be treated like a human by somebody in the room, even as the doctor himself is clearly bored with this whole schtick. the meeting takes about fifteen minutes; within a few weeks they will send you a bill for several hundred dollars. that’s how much it costs to sit in a room while a doctor ignores you and lets medical students do his job, asking you about the worst things that have ever happened to you, for college credit so they can finish medical school.

they tell you to do “homework” that amounts to writing about your feelings, your worst memories, your deepest secrets. you try to convince yourself that you might actually get something out of this whole shitshow if you just go along, but you can’t stand the idea of letting that fucking woman read anything you write. whatever. you show up every day and say no, you did not do the homework. no, you do not feel guilty about not doing the homework. the woman who leads the group glares at you. you are an incorrigible crazy girl who must not want to get any better, after all. one day they have you all go outside, hold hands, and move a hula hoop around in a circle without letting go of each others’ hands. you make a skeptical face and the lady who leads the group says something about “being resilient enough” to do her stupid little exercise. you want to tell her to go fuck herself, there’s no part of this shit that has anything to do with resilience, but you know better than to argue. you participate and, incidentally, you pass the hula hoop quicker than everyone else did, and then you say “i don’t like to touch people”, because you don’t, and the other patients let go of your hands immediately. the lady who leads the group looks pleased with herself.

on the seventh day you drag yourself up in the morning to go to this stupid outpatient program, they just have you watch Inside Out and then fill out a paper about “what emotions does society tell us to repress”. you go through the motions, go eat the lunch they serve you, and go home, knowing you are not going to bother going to the next day. These people are full of shit. you have to figure this out on your own, as usual. at least you got the higher dose of mood stabilizers you needed, though.

you get a new job, because you quit your old one in a panic. you’re too anxious and pissed off all the time and awkward and unsure of whatever the fuck these people are so mad about when you can’t sit them down immediately or whatever, to be good at customer service, so you just start doing the grunt work. you’re still under the impression that being a hard worker when you first start a new job will help you keep the job; this job will be the one that lets you figure out you don’t actually want to give 100%, because then your coworkers will slack off and when you try to slack off, your boss will be mad at you for not performing the way you usually do. 

it’s almost unbelievably difficult, but you keep showing up to work. you hide the panic attacks and you push through the depression. you smile and play nice even though everybody is full of shit and thinks you’re an idiot and you can’t ever, ever change their mind. you feel like you’re going to explode all the time, but you don’t explode. you don’t die. you don’t relapse. you toe the line and you slowly, slowly learn and improve and heal.

you try to talk to people about it. they won’t believe you. crazy people can’t fix themselves. they can’t reason their way through a problem, they can’t realize their behavior is an issue and take initiative, they can’t. it’s impossible. crazy people don’t know they’re crazy. only the Doctors can be trusted.

whatever. they’re full of shit. you have to figure out your own way to survive, just like always.

#actuallyborderline #actuallybipolar #adhd #yes it's offically diagnosed by a real doctor fuckin finally #asks #modestmousecankillme #this is a very frank and thorough description of what i went through trying to get help #i dont want pity and i dont want outrage. i just want ppl to know. #but it is long and it is upsetting so god please be careful clicking read more