#but lady has trauma from having a serious disease so coming out alive on the other end isn't something she takes for granted

[raquellmurillo]

I feel like it was within character for Nairobi to ask the Professor to father her child, but it felt so out of place him actually agreeing - and so quickly as well! He didn’t even think to mention it to Raquel which is such a horrible move. Also, with what happened to Nairobi, there’s no continuous plot with the scene, except for it to cause problems with Sergio and Raquel which I do not want :( Also we better get more Raquel next season because she did not get enough screen time in this part

See... not for a moment did I believe Nairobi forgot about her original son. Wasn’t that such a big part of her character and her backstory? Her wanting to get money to finally be able to care for her kid? She was one of the very few characters whose background stories we got in detail... what was the point of that? Wasn’t her goal #1 to get her kid back? 

I think they decided to scrap that part of her character because it would have been greatly inconvenient,  - screen time - meaning time would be taken away from the ‘action’ in order to deal with a very grey area situation; the kid and mother coming to terms with a very difficult past. Having to actually write a coherent relationship between the two, (a lot of ups and downs), also, meaning that Nairobi’s decision to take part  in heist #2 wouldn’t have been so obvious as she’d want to finally settle down with her kid and not risk his life....

They simply didn’t want to carry the baggage of s1&2 producers and someone out there was like “let’s scrap the kid, still make her child orientated... why not give her a new kid? She’ll be happy, and we won’t have to deal with writing a ‘controversial’ scenario of Nairobi trying to explain to her kid why it got taken away by social services, and why she has decided to kidnap him back.”

But I do think you’re right; it would’ve been just about within her character to ask, had they dealt with her other kid. It really wouldn’t have taken much either. Say the scene with Tokyo - as simple as Nairobi saying something along the lines of “my kid is in a really good family, he has siblings, I sent him and the family a lot of money”, fuck, or even a “I went to meet my son, I offered him to come with me but he wanted to stay with his siblings, go to normal school... so I decided it was his choice, and I’m always going to be there for him in case anything happens.” But NO...

... Not only did they deprive her of getting her kid back, or shutting that chapter of her life (which could’ve been shut with one fucking sentence); ladies and gentlemen, they only picked up on that story line in order to shoot her. Now that is doing her so dirty. 

I fully believe Nairobi as a ‘brave’ character, and even though dealing with the kid part of her life would have been hideously difficult, I am certain it would have been her #1 priority to sort it out. 

So, not out of character, but out of character for the given circumstances.

Now, my dear, you’re going to regret getting me started on the whole Sergio thing lmao...

First of all, the whole scene and concept of this thing is, to me, so weird and random.

It seemed so out of character for Sergio. He’s the mastermind, the thinker, the ‘I don’t do emotional or personal but factual’. His first and utmost reason to deny her would be his family’s illness factor. This, I think would be actually anyone's reaction. Even before having a kid with your actual partner - if you know that there is a history of genetic illness in your family, it is, believe me or not world, actually a very important subject to talk about.

When Sergio gets intimidated, pushed over into uncomfortable territory, he always resorts to knowledge. In this case, he should be doing so not only because Nairobi has moved the conversation into uncomfortable territory, but because of the necessity to explain he was a bedridden child.

It is a fundamental part of his character; he decided to do the heist to honor his dad. His brother and his mother both had the disease he spent years traveling over Europe to find a cure for. Illness has been something which has made his life hell. Deep down, the kid inside him, probably believes that his dad would be alive if he didn’t have to pay his hospital bill. His illness is responsible for the loss of his parents, brother... its a serious and fundamentally traumatic part of his character.

Money heist is, at heart, a bedridden kid trying to fulfill the dream of his father, who couldn’t do it himself, because he lost his life trying to cure his son’s illness.

Idkkk how much the characters know about each other, but the story of Sergio and his family has definitely gone around by now - as its probably the most traumatic part of his life and character. (and imo was one of the major things which got Raquel to let him go - the lie detector scene was powerful)

If Nairobi, or anyone, would have walked in, asking him that, I honestly believe he would have snapped. Obvs, its asking about a very honorable thing to do, but it seems to be ignorant of Sergio’s emotions, trauma and past sufferings. There’s one thing of asking someone if you have no clue. But being fully aware of it... we are on the border of a very serious ethical issue.

Even if wanting Sergio as the father of her kid might just about be in character with Nairobi’s personal interests and desires, I think in the context of Sergio’s past, it wouldn’t be exactly realistic for her to ask such a thing of him. She always has been the most woke character out there, serving some lines - to Berlin, Palermo; the whole lot of them - and seeing right through people. Tokyo is capable of such emotional ignorance, Nairobi isn't. 

... that being the evaluation of just the first part of the whole issue, not even mentioning the whole not telling Raquel part (which I will mention in another ask, lol as people share your opinion my dear.)

Definitely not enough screen time for Raquel, although, with the writing of this season, perhaps less screen time is a blessing lol I guess quality over quantity, but I’m not sure I can even stand with quality at this point. She should be leading the heist... from the control room! I’m shitting myself for having her inside the bank, as once again it’s stripping her of her characterisation (she knows police protocols, she’s the negotiator; not a babysitter!!) and putting her there solely to cause DrAMa 

#the tea #asks #lcdp

[allmymisters]

For the Love of China

I just woke up. That’s a lie. I woke up around 2 hours ago. I awoke from a dream I can’t remember and a peacefully sleeping Mister who does that snoring that sounds like he’s whispering “poo”. I used to do this thing in my head, when I was about to go to sleep. It was to calm me and clear my thoughts, but I would imagine this little Iggy like character in my head, climbing through my brain to the top of the stairs. He had a little room there and he would turn on the light and there would be a very large blackboard full of doodles and writing and he would literally erase my thoughts. When he cleared the board, he would turn the light off and I would go to sleep. When I was a child, I never sucked my thumb, nor did I sleep with my parents. Across the hall I slept in my crib and then that crib turned into a bed eventually, but I was not the type of child who was uncomfortable being alone and my parents were not the kind that would coddle me. When I was a kid, I’d play with my hangnails to get to sleep. Strange I know, but I’d start at a quick pace and as I would slow the pace down to go to sleep. Some people count sheep, I played with my hangnails.

I wasn’t a nervous child. I was shy, but not nervous. Anxiety was something that occurred the night before a trip or the night before the first day of school. I never was affected by it the way my friends say they are crippled by it. Something has happened to me recently and I don’t like it, actually I hate it. The older I’ve gotten the more stressful my life has become. Job stress, money stress, relationship stress, health stress…what was invisible before has now ravaged my nervous system like a freight train. Why has this happened? What did I do that my mind and my body have decided to betray how I compute.

When you scroll down Facebook posts you’ll notice a pattern with people. It goes from “My kid said/did this” to “I have an opinion about the current state of the world” to “My (insert family member) died” to “Look how much fun I’m having on said vacation”. We know every anniversary, birthday, death, birth, new job, new partner, etc etc. Look, I’ve read and listened to a lot of psychologists and experts talk about how social media affects us and I think it affects us in different ways. For me, it’s more of a strange place where you can’t disagree with anyone or I’m reading about some pretty personal stuff for the world to see or I’m realizing how sad I am that I don’t have a cute baby to show everyone or a cute dog for that matter. As of two days ago, it was acknowledging that the two guys I dated in high school were arrested for some pretty serious sexual misconducts.

I have emotional OCD. I can’t help it and noticed my mom is the same way. We lash out in two different ways. We get angry and tell the world to fuck off and then we cry in the shower at how hurt we are. My family was always big on the “suck it up and move on” or “don’t ever let anyone see you’re weak, be smarter”. I think I’ve lived a majority of my life like this. I care way too much about things. Being a natural empath can be rewarding, but can also turn on you in a most wretched way. I fixate on things bothering me. I will go through scenarios, the why, the what, the how. I will talk to that person in my head and say exactly what I want to to them and then see them as though I have no complaints. Please don’t misunderstand, I’m bold enough, I just don’t see what it would really do but become my problem.

I’m trying not to care. I’m actually trying not to notice what’s happening to me. My body is falling apart. I thought I’d be one of those cool ladies you see memes and documentaries about. The ones that are growing old gracefully with designer bifocals and purple hair. My mind has grown and continues to do so, but my body is being an asshole. When you start to see the transition it gets scary. The grey hairs, the aches and pains, the weight gain (for some), the lethargy and most of all the crushing anxiety. I’m having serious issues with anxiety recently and the only thing that has helped are my new acupuncture appointments. But as with all things I experience, I don’t want to have to be helped or ask for it for that matter. It’s challenging, but I’ve always seen myself as someone who can handle her shit. So, I thought.

“Iggy where are you!?”

My mind races in the middle of the night. I go to bed fine, but if I awaken, it’s a nightmare. I try to get Iggy to come out and he’s there but he either erases the board and it refills instantly, or he just stands there looking at it, as though he’s stuck in some video game prompting me for his next direction.

What do I have to work on tomorrow? Can I sell this woman’s house? Am I doing the right thing with my life? Why does he have to work tomorrow? Am I going to lose my hair? I need to go to the gym. What should I get my parents for Christmas? I’m so angry about my camera! Why haven’t I heard from her, do they just not like me anymore? I want to go somewhere. I miss my dad. I hope my dad is ok. I wish my brother would come visit me. I wish I could afford to go see them, i hope those fires aren’t too close to him. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Ok, relax, deep breaths. Why is my heart beating like this, am I dying…fuck…fuck…am i ever going to lose this weight. I need to just go to the gym. Oh my god, stop snoring! I need new glasses, shit I need to reschedule the dentist because I don’t have money right now, how am I going to pay for the window…..

And it goes on and on and on and on. From me thinking I have cancer to wondering when the next tragedy in my life will occur to am I going to have a job tomorrow. I get it, I’m not alone, there are other people who have this stuff going on, I just don’t like it. It’s physically tearing me apart. I’m about to turn 47 and I’m wondering where my womanhood has gone because let’s face it, I’m 22 forever. It’s disorienting and for me, very frightening. I don’t want to have a heart attack in my fifties you know?

I used to love being an empath, recently I hate it. There’s an emptiness I’ve been carrying around with me and what used to be a simple brush off the shoulder and has now become some colossal underlying stress ball of unimaginable proportions. My doctors have told me that they are quite surprised I’ve gone this long without completely losing it. When I look at them with “tha fuuuck?” look, they explain going through that much trauma in one sitting can put most people over the edge, but two therapy sessions in, after a suicide, an excruciating end to my marriage, the death of one of my best friends, the news that my ex boyfriend and friend had died while at mentioned best friend’s funeral, the loss of my close knit circle and the loss of my job due to all of the above was good enough for me. I moved forward. Moved forward in a very zig zaggy, drunken fashion making no stops for breath while being accused of being unforgiving, angry and abandoned. Yep, seems about right. It’s been nine years and I’m afraid it’s finally all caught up with me, like a tsunami from hell.

“Take a Xany”

I don’t do pills. I will fight to self heal before having to take something for it. No offense to you who have found resolve in it, I’m just not that person. I just wanna feel better! I want to sleep. I wanna enjoy my morning instead of walking straight to my computer. I want to figure out a workout routine. I want to tell people no. I want to not feel like my heart is in the Kentucky Derby. I want my body to slow down. I want time to slow down. Slow the fuck DOWN! Why am I so apt to be that overachiever? I think because for so long I’ve been overlooked in my duties, and now, I’m finally getting recognition and to be honest it feels fantastic. My therapy comes from helping others, that’s my selfish reason for doing the things I do. So, how do I make it stop? I don’t have an answer. Right now, being in a dark room for one hour every week with pins sticking in me seems to be the only thing that’s been working. It’s sad that, it is the only place, I can breathe and not think of all the things, even though the cost gives me its own anxiety.

It’s not greek to me

A few hours ago I couldn’t finish writing this piece. I wanted to write something because writing is my catharsis and to be honest, I was upset. It helps me work it out in my head. Instead, I started talking about it while my man comforted me and asked what he could do. I broke down. Blubbering like a fool, telling him how disappointed I am in my life right now, how I don’t know why I can motivate others and not myself and how alone I feel a lot of the times. I just want to shut it off sometimes. My brain that is, not my system. I don’t want to be fearful because that’s not who I am, yet I feel like I’m fearful everyday with everything I do and say. When did that happen?

I just want to sleep like the dead again so I can feel alive. Remember in our 20’s? Bed at dawn, sleep til work, repeat. I want to eat a piece of chocolate without feeling like I’ll need to buy new jeans next month. I want to tell people to eat a dick every time they tell me what I should feel and what I should say. I’m not feeling very punk rock these days and that’s what it comes down to. All these feelings I have about the world, the non-reciprocated relationships I have, the allowance of urgency everyone needs from me, and the disrespect I’ve received in certain situations are an implosion waiting to happen, all because the one emotion I owned, anger, has become some sort of disease. Are we no longer allowed to express our discontent for anything except what has been deemed acceptable and determined by some invisible sensitivity police? I think not. It’s not just about being consumed by anger, it’s more about being able to express and release. You know, throw some plates against the wall and then have a martini after. Maybe I’m reading into it too much, but for me, I think it is part of the reason why I feel so handicapped recently. I wanna mad. I want it to run through my veins and shout it out! It doesn’t make me crazy. It doesn’t make me unable to cope (fuck anyone who says I can’t cope with shit) and it surely doesn’t make me non-confrontational. I don’t like this new, “Don’t let them hear you” mentality. It’s my right to embrace my humanity and that includes being angry and having my own perspective. So, I’m getting my plates ready, because I’m tired, so very, very tired, and there’s nothing Greek about that.