#early intervention in psychosis

[surinderbhalla]

Early Signs of Schizophrenia and Prevention Strategies!

Schizophrenia, a complex and often misunderstood mental disorder, affects millions of individuals worldwide. It is characterized by a range of symptoms that impact thoughts, emotions, and behavior. While the exact cause of schizophrenia remains elusive, early detection and intervention are crucial for managing the condition effectively. In this article, we delve into the early signs of…

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#Cognitive health #Early detection #Early intervention #Mental health awareness #Mental health education #Mental health prevention #Mental health promotion #Mental health support #Mental wellness strategies #Preventing schizophrenia #Psychiatric disorders #Psychosis signs #Schizophrenia awareness #Schizophrenia risk factors #Schizophrenia symptoms

[cannabiscomrade]

Psychosis support and solidarity should include postpartum psychosis

I don’t recall ever seeing posts mentioning postpartum psychosis, however it’s only other people who have experienced psychosis that I ever see posting about psychosis so I feel like it’s important to highlight this group

Having conditions that pre-disposition you to psychosis can increase your risk of developing postpartum psychosis, and I experienced it firsthand during my postpartum period. But anyone can experience postpartum psychosis- with risk factors like young age and perinatal/neonatal complications increasing the gestational parent’s risk.

Postpartum psychosis is extremely stigmatized and dramatized for media consumption and does not prioritize early detection for the safety of the parent and child. The risk of suicide is greater than the risk of injuring a child, and I think we can definitely do better on awareness of PPP from an antipsych perspective to promote peer intervention in these situations

#suicide mention

[afraidtoblink]

Hearing Voices & Unusual Experiences & Psychosis & Schizophrenia & Etc

Hearing Voices and Co 101

Community overview of hearing voices by BC hearing voices network and Hearing Voices Network of South Australia

A rare community and medical overview of hearing voices by Understanding Voices

Medical and Mental Illness style overviews of hearing voices (separate from pages on psychosis and schizophrenia, which is kinda nice) by Mind UK and Rethink Mental Illness

Explanation of psychosis by Likemind UK

Explanation of schizophrenia by Project LETS

Lived Experiences

“LUNAR: a psychosis zine” by feyxuan, interviewing 6 folks with lived experiences

"A Bipolar, A Schizophrenic, And A Podcast” hosted by Gabe Howard and Michelle Hammer aka Schizophrenic.NYC

“MadHaus” podcast by Maddie Jericho, who also is part of Students With Psychosis

“Living Well with Schizophrenia” Youtube channel by Lauren

“The Collected Schizophrenias” by Esmé Weijun Wang, book review with quotes here

Dealing with Life

Lists of coping strategies by Hearing Voices Network Aotearoa New Zealand, Hearing Voices Network Australia, and Manchester Hearing Voices Group

Advice from young people hearing voices by Manchester Metropolitan University

“Dealing with Psychosis” toolkit by Early Psychosis Intervention program in Canada

List of Hearing Voices Networks around the world on Intervoice website

Peer support groups for folks with “schizophrenia or a schizophrenia-related illness”, family and caregivers, and a helpline by Schizophrenia and Psychosis Action Alliance

#hearing voices #psychosis #schizophrenia #schizophrenic spectrum #resources #actually psychotic #mental health

[sunspira]

Im laying my bets now. the entire idea that autism (and adhd) is more common in men and boys is pure myth created by poor science, backwards statistics and faulty parameters of the condition itself. in another 50 years we will understand it was never a gendered condition. just a highly gendered and biased measurement system. i'm absurdly confident on that

the rates of autism in girls is "rising" exponentially. it is rising even more exponentially in girls than in boys. not because girls are becoming more autistic. but because the "science" is just getting better at measuring and accurately acknowledging autism in girls.

autism often does present differently in girls, due to how girls are raised or personality differences. the literature and criteria was based on boy sample groups. the entire research data was done on white men as if that is a standard default person and control group.

not only that, doctors and teachers and parents literally were not looking for it in girls under the false widely propagated belief it was rare in women in girls. it is a self fulfilling prophecy. that's not science.

we will soon have to reckon with the lost generations of autistic girls and women and children assigned female at birth* who never got diagnosis and early intervention. we should be forcing the world to reckon with it right now. a great deal of autistic millennial women are brilliant minds who dropped out of STEM and the workforce due to their untreated and misidentified disability overtaking their life. the impact of never Knowing you or your child is autistic or adhd is difficult to comprehend for autistic and adhd people who did get diagnosed as children. even when the awareness and interventions were unhelpful or harmful. the harm of not knowing means the child trying even harder to become neurotypical and a level of autistic burnout few others on the spectrum can comprehend, often taking place after the woman is a legal adult, and there are no legal protections in place for this disabled person.

the unmitigated stress of being developmentally delayed and never knowing it, simply hating and blaming yourself and fighting day in and out past your limits to become neurotypical, limits your don't know you should have because you have never been so much as briefed on what adhd or autism can feel like. you don't know the distres and tiredness you're feeling is "dysregulation". this is why we see women in nervous breakdowns. psychiatric wards. treatment resistant depression. electric shock therapy. hard drug addiction. cutting. homelessness. personality disorders. dissociation. psychosis. early death by accident or suicide. (obviously people who are not autistic or adhd have these illnesses but my point is untold and disproportionate numbers of them are undiagnosed neurodivergent with unprocessed trauma. i'm telling you. more than you think).

it's why we see young people on tiktok not faking DID per say, but describing a dissociated experiences and fractured sense of self and escapist alternate personalities, a mental illness that has much less in common with traditional DID, but has much in common with struggling and under-treated autistic people. DID is a very rare condition. autism is very common. autism can create out of body experiences and self protective blurring of reality and fantasy so extreme, no person can be expected to understand it is autism if they never been advised about their own disability and the knowledge that should he available to them. it's no wonder we have people with mislabeled rare disorders like DID who are clearly very sick but instead of showing real DID signs, are sick with all the signs of severe unassisted autism they have been completely barred from understanding or coping with in any other way. for those lucky enough, we see unemployed young women with severe chronic pain in their 20s and 30s who look and feel like they're elderly and gave up their dreams when they hit 21 or 25 and their brains stopped working and their bodies shut down. now they mostly scroll tumblr and tiktok and try to remember to open the blinds. they have a roof but people scorn them for entitled laziness and worst of all derided for "self diagnosing".

again i'm asking why CFS chronic fatigue syndrome is so responsive to adderall. i'm asking why professionals are reluctant to test women for adhd if she does well in school because she is very bookish and why experts in the field are openly amused and doubtful to test a woman for autism if she has a long term boyfriend. why is ability to mask or function a disqualification. why is inability to function in women, who later turn out to be autistic or adhd, so aggressively mischaracterized as BPD, bipolar, depression, OCD, schizophrenia. why is autism and adhd clinically diagnosed and defined by distress and dysfunction and not by intrinsic traits and qualities that present while still functional for preventative care. why are all people, men and women forced to wait until their lives and minds are deteriorating and they have experienced some irreversible disasters and pain before they can be diagnosed. why must girls and boys wait until their daily life as children have become unbearable hell for them before their disability can be treated and acknowledged. and if these policies are changing now, why are doctors and psychiatrists not eagerly and urgently reaching out to find the vulnerable adults they missed during more archaic screening methods. we aren't rising in adhd diagnosis because of tiktok you assholes. adult onset adhd and autism don't exist. those people were always adhd. adult onset skill regression and increase in severity due to stress DOES happen in adulthood. modern day stresses like loss of structure during the pandemic and social media is advancing to become more attention span draining. everyone is feeling the effects but these are causing adhd and autistic people to cope less and mask less effectively so they are running into significant problems, their loved ones are noticing, they are getting referrals and suddenly forced to google their rapidly worsening mental issues for the first time and seeing they line up with a known neurological condition . this is obvious. doctors blaming it on some sort of trend are being willfully clueless

*because autism especially is screened identified diagnosed and first intervened ages 2-5, before a child has an internal concept of self or gender and above all before they can express their gender, diagnostic practices and criteria are based on how adults perceive a child via birth assignments. and the studies are overwhelmingly beholden to data only on children assigned male at birth, rarely accounting for their actual future gender either. as part of the warped science insisting that autism is as if somehow linked to the y chromosome and not a universally likely human quality, you see amab kids laser focused on as candidates and afab kids fucked over most of all. all children assigned female have the worst chances of their developmental disability being identified and acknowledged in a timely manner and disproportionately experience late diagnosis in later adolescence or adulthood. tho i wouldn't be surprised if trans womens rates of accurate diagnosis is lower than cis men. as trans girls may present autism differently and characteristic of girls autism, even while still in the closet or before she knows she is trans. regardless adults are very vigilant for signs of autism, even atypical ones, in any child they perceive as a boy. so any millennial or gen z child identified female at birth had significantly worse chance at receiving autistic support compared to peers

in particular women assigned male at birth might have a better chance at being identified for types of autism that are often labeled "high functioning", involves high masking, and often receives few services. these more invisible types of autism often need to be diagnosed before age 5 in order to qualify under the criteria at all. and so in the days where autism was believed to be 20x more common in the genetics of xy children, any chance of being considered and diagnosed would come down to almost purely birth assignment dependent. with the less outwardly visible types of autism, a person who misses this window will remain autistic all their life but once they learn a certain level of skills and masking, no matter how late they learn these, the person will no longer qualify for diagnosis, either not until they have a nervous breakdown or possibly not ever qualify. it's this type of more hidden autism we see struggling across the board as undiagnosed adults including both trans and cis women especially, tho we are seeing it disproportionately even more so in undiagnosed afabs of any gender. who are dropping out of schooling and work and succumbing to severe mental illnesses during what should be the prime of their lives. overall tho birth assignment is not everything this is an issue that disproportionately impacts cis women. trans women. trans men. non-binary people. likely doubling for those that are afab. and then tripling and quadrupling for children who are not white.

bit of an understatement in that last part there. gender likely isn't even the biggest barrier to proper diagnosis and treatment. probably race is even more so. but since gender is such a big disparity in itself across race and one i relate to and can speak on from experience ive focused on it here. a more in-depth look is needed on the neglect of adhd and autistic children of color especially black native and latino kids. but for now do keep in mind the points i'm making increase exponentially for kids who aren't white across all genders including cis boys

#this is dramatic and long but it's a dramatic situation that is completely slept on in the public eye #it's not just about me this is about people who had it so much worse. tho my insider experience obviously brought it to my attention #i'm pretty sure i'm not autistic im adhd but the reality of adhd is a lot more like autism than we are acknowledging #a topic for another day #autism in women #adhd in women #atypical autism #adhd inattentive #undiagnosed autistic #undiagnosed neurodivergent #undiagnosed autism #undiagnosed adhd

[schizosupport]

Hey so I've been researching schizophrenia (and other schizo-spec + psychosis-spec disorders but mainly schizophrenia) and it essentially explains a lot of my life + experiences.

I have a question about when or even if I should/need treatment for it? I'm pretty sure I have early onset schizophrenia or had a premorbid schizo-spec/psychosis-spec disorder and I've read that early/earliest intervention is best.

I know needing to be treated is a very person to person thing but I really do want help because it's seem to have been getting worse in the past few years. I'm just not sure when it's appropriate to get help for it.

Hey there! So in my opinion the time to seek treatment is when the symptoms you are having feel unmanageable to a degree where you are willing to brave the associated complications of formal diagnosis and side effects of medicinal treatment etc.

Everyone's threshold is different, and there's obviously no guarantee that treatment will help you personally, but it does help plenty of folks so you can't just write it off either.

I'm sceptical of the idea of early intervention, where people get (medicinal antipsychotic) treatment for symptoms they may be about to develop based on other associated signs. In my opinion this is a pretty risky move given the side effects etc of antipsychotics.

But at the same time I'm not interested in gatekeeping treatment. I have personally benefited from antipsychotics on a day to day basis for psychotic and psychosis adjacent experiences of a more transient or less intense nature. Like the right dose of risperidone took me from crying from paranoid anxiety every night, to sleeping consistently, and it felt like a miracle at the time.

So I think if formal diagnosis isn't a problem for you, and you are feeling bothered by these types of symptoms, you could give it a try.

I think the important thing is to keep an open mind, and remember that most psychiatrists have an irrational fear of psychosis in their patients. So make sure that you are a part of making decisions about your own health, and don't just go along with whatever.

Some psychs don't like it when you research medicine and doses and so on. But frankly it's bullshit, and please do so. I know a few sad cases where people got put on way high doses of antipsychotics for no particular reason, and it set them back by a lot, as it took them years to realize that many of their newfound mental issues were a result of the very medication they were taking in hopes of feeling better.

So like. Stay informed and advocate for yourself, if you do seek treatment.

Hope this vaguely helps :p

#answers #medical malpractice #overmedication

[lovelessdagger]

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Repetition of Poetry

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Summary: So this is it. The end—or more accurately, its climax.

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Graphic Violence. Implied Torture. Derealization. Drugging. Angst. Medical Horror. Sith Nonsense. Someone loses a limb. Again.

Words: 8k

Summary: So this is it. The end—or more accurately, its climax.

A/N: Trying out a new way of formatting. The other chapters will be changed to reflect this eventually.

Masterlist | Starlight Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

Doctor Pershing insists on keeping Lumina restrained during their sessions. Her ankles are tethered to the legs of an iron chair. Her hands, free yet restricted in binders, inhibiting her access to the Force. He claims it’s imperative the holds not conduct electricity, a fear of intervention in his study. Monitors to her left attach to her skin and skull through stuck on wire.

Heart rate, oxygen, brainwave activity. A handheld device on the table remains constantly pointed in her direction, reading out any electromagnetic emission. He says she’s radioactive. She isn’t entirely sure what that means.

He asks, “Have you heard any more voices since beginning your medication?”

She answers no.

He requires she take three pills a day, one in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one just before night hours. The morning acts as a super nutrient, the middle for her supposed psychosis, the last for sleep. He watches her swallow, and checks under her tongue after each. 

“Any visual hallucinations?”

“No.”

She’d just taken the first of the day.

“Mania?”

“Depends who you ask.”

“Paranoia?”

She shrugs. “Always.”

“But no voices?”

“No voices.”

He types, maintaining eye contact. She looks away. He stands.

“You’ve made excellent progress,” he tells her. “You should be proud of yourself.” He kneels, untying her ankles. “Your levels have finally stabilized to a healthy rate. Many of your symptoms are from a typical trauma response. With time and more sessions they should fade as well.” He takes her wrists, removing the binders.

“Finishing early?” she asks.

He stands, but tells her no, not quite. He asks her to stay seated, and leaves saying he’ll return.

Lumina listens. 

She considers helping when Pershing returns, struggling to manually open the doors. Even without the restrictors, there’s no point in it. She sits with her head pressed on the table, sure to leave a mark when it rises. The emission reader pushes against her scalp. She couldn’t understand the numbers if she tried. 

“It wasn’t easy to get this approved,” Doctor Pershing says, grunts in-between as he closes the door again. “But, I considered it necessary. For both your healths.”

Both?

A baby coos. She gasps, sitting up and only feels slightly faint.

Grogu squeals, babbling with hands in her direction.

She wells with tears before she can think. “Can I hold him?” she breaks. “Please?”

Pershing nods. “Of course.” He passes the Child over, he clings to her. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. Again and again. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Lumina inspects every visible part of him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” To Pershing, “What did you do to him? Did you hurt him?”

“No,” he says immediate, sitting again. “No I would never. He’s only a child. To be truthful, all I’ve done is extract a blood sampling. A majority of my time aboard has been with you.”

She ignores. “Did he hurt you?”

A wave passes through the Force; No.

She pets back his ears, nodding. “Okay.”

“You should know he’s incapacitated a total of eight stormtroopers aboard.”

“Did he kill them?”

“No.”

“Good.” She taps his nose. “Good job.”

“You’re proud of this?”

“He’s defending himself.”

“And how do you suppose he’ll react himself when he discovers you have rejoined the Empire?” He makes a wave to her uniform. “Is he expected to combat you as well?”

“If I ever to pose a threat to him, yes.”

He types again, clicking a persistent nuisance. “Were you ever expected to combat Lord Vader?” Readings on the monitors increase. “Yes or no,” he pushes.

“On his request. Yes.”

“Can you present an example of a request?”

Her foot taps. “When he first presented me with a second lightsaber. He threw it at me, turned on his own. The expectation was that I fight him.”

“And of the other times when he would become physically violent towards you. What was the expectation?”

Lumina’s head shakes. “That never happened.”

“No?”

“No.” Knuckles crack, pressed against her thigh. She grows quiet, confidence stripped away. “He never hit me. He wasn’t a monster.”

Doctor Pershing stutters. He says the Machine’s name, covered in disbelief. Like he were here in the room, standing behind her. She tries to imagine the Machine, feel his presence, his scratching electronics, his towering figure. The red eyes of his helmet, the pumping of his iron lungs sounding into their dead space of silence.

It offers little comfort, instead she’s supplied with resentment. She becomes the source of what he has left behind. Impatience. Intolerant. Arrogant. Miserable.

She becomes a vessel of her fathers torment.

Beeping from monitors become shrill cries. Doctor Pershing grabs the radiation monitor, waving it over her form. He remains unfazed by the results. He produces a lightbulb, holding it out. His datapad props up, camera aimed to her.

He announces the experiment. “Holo Log One-Twenty-Five under CF-318F1. Test eighty-seven.” She preforms her role, removing her gloves, taking the glass in her right hand. She holds its base, figures pressed around the metal. It indents her.

The results are null. She places the glass down, hands return to her lap. To the Child.

Doctor Pershing sighs, typical of this routine. The camera turns off. “That’s alright,” he says. “Let’s explore something else. Your bond to the Child. How did it begin?”

Lumina leaves him without response in favor of Grogu. Her fingers tickle his stomach, blowing kisses in his cheek. “You’re stinky,” she mumbles. “It’s okay. They didn’t clean me either. I’ll make sure you get a wash soon Bug, I promise.”

“Your relationship to him is greater than I suspected,” Pershing says, a glimmer of awe. “I never would have guessed you could be so… maternal.”

“I try,” she says. “I’ve only really known one before.”

“One mother?”

“Yes. She was kind. Gentle, but strong.” Lumina looks to Pershing. “You’ve seen my genetics. Do I have one?”

“Well,” he stutters. “Theoretically, every being has a mother.”

“So I’ve been told. But do I?”

“I… I’m sure,” he admits. “Though with no match in the database, it’s impossible to say who.”

“Do I have any matches?”

“I am not at liberty to say. I’m sorry.”

“Do you have one? A mother.”

He softens. “I did. Though it has been many years since her passing.”

“How long?”

“Decades. I was only a boy. She got sick.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yes. Very much.”

 Lumina nods, pensive. “Would you like to see her?”

He freezes. “Pardon?”

“I can help you see her again. If you’d like to that is.”

“How?”

“I can enter your consciousness through the Force, granting me access to your memories.” She bounces Grogu. “I’ve done it with him. It won’t hurt if you consent, and I won’t touch you if you’re too afraid.”

He’s hesitant. “How do I know you won’t harm me?”

“You don’t. Not really. I know there’s nothing I can say to make you trust me. I could snap your neck if I wanted to. Make your brains blow from the inside. But you’ve been the only one aboard to listen to me. Respect me. Despite, everything,” she says to the monitors. “And you brought him back. I have no reason to harm you anymore.”

Doctor Pershing stares at her, he removes his glasses, wiping it on his jacket. “Okay,” he whispers. “What do I do?”

“Close your eyes,” Lumina guides. “Think of her. I’ll go from there.”

The art of presentation of one’s self is not a endeavor to be taken lightly. Absolute perfection must be achieved, errors will not be tolerated. A single strand of hair for example, raised away from the rest, shows a carelessness in grooming, lack of attention to detail, insufficient use of styling tools, stupidity.

Fingers with scooped gel run over white hair. Ghost glares in the mirror to achieve a flawless partition along her scalp. “Regulation states you must straighten your hair,” she says to the girl behind her. “Or at least pull it back. You look like an animal.”

There holds no truth in the statement, an unnerving admittance. The assessment of a mane isn’t too far off however, it’s fitting. Voluminous dark curls not too loose nor too tight. Slept in, cared for. Framing bright eyes, alluring everyone into a dangerous trap. 

“I still prefer you with brown eyes,” she continues. Hers meets herself, ice blue into ice blue.  Chilling to the bone. “In certain lighting ours look the same.” She grabs tweezers, plucking a single hair from thin brows. “I should tell you I agree with Doctor Pershing’s assessment of you. You are unsettling. I never thought of it much when we were in our younger years, but seeing how we’ve grown… how you’ve grown. It’s undeniable. You’re a freak.”

Ghost turns around, approaching. “How did they do it? Preselect you with such precision?” She whispers, “It shouldn’t be possible.” She circles, a vulture to prey. A pit of darkness in her hungry stomach. Starved. “Who else are you taken from?”

There is no response.

“A Jedi, I’m sure. Your genetics are your only flaw, and yet it is the reason you’re so…” She groans in frustration. Her bun pulls tight on her head, inducing frequent migraines. “You should have been kept in a lab,” she says. “Let Lord Vader keep his mutt for play, not legacy. It isn’t fair. Every day, years spent competing for his attention when you were preselected the whole time. Created for this purpose alone, and you remain who you are. The rest of us were left to starve, fight. You lived in a palace. Everything you could ever want. Power. Money. Glory. It’s should have never gone to you, you’re ungrateful. Even now, when they all praise you for merely existing.”

It’s worse with her presence in practice than it was in theory. They watch her every step down the corridor, every request is met with unnerving acceptance. They salute, they bow, they excite in the knowledge of shared air. Like she were the first and last woman in the galaxy, the answer to every problem, an immaculate creation from the Force itself. They’re all ridiculous ignorant fools, clawing for attention.

She revels in it too, this much Ghost is certain. She has to, it’s only logical conclusion for their position. Unending gratitude for doing nothing at all. A crowd at her feet, submission willfully given.

That’s the worst of it. The power. It suits her, she wears it on her uniform, in every stitch. The meek stray from their mildness, the arrogant from their ego. Ghost has seen so much happen without understanding any of it at all. The most loyal troopers in steady conversation with her, spewing glory to the Empire until she touches them. Their arm, helmet, hands. The intimacy cannot be afforded and should weaken her, yet it does not.

She asks of their person, their interests, where they are from. Irrelevant anecdotal information with no use. No purpose. Wasting time, energy, resource.

They feed from her because of it.

And Ghost waits for the break every time, for the branch to snap, wood falling to echo. Someone will make a mistake. Cross the unspoken line. This is a ploy to goad them into false security. A lesson on trust and naivety. To prove her rank, be the reason for fear and nightmares.

Ghost was so sure it would have happened earlier, with the TK she spoke to. She believed he’d done it, unleashed the monster. Be the cause of revelation of the inhuman creation Gideon boasts of, that Pershing obsesses over. They’ll all fall in terror. Realize truth never lives to legend. Understand an idols facade is riddled in a constructed narrative.

Then, only then, will they crawl to Ghost. They’ll rally, worship. Beg for her to claim the mantle, rise to the greatness of the Sith stand by the Emperor. Become the daughter that should have been.

And it should have happened. He touched her. He grabbed her arm. No warning, no context, only a firm hold. She stopped talking, animated gloves frozen. Her head turned. It should have happened. They should have been made to believe she is none other than Lord Vader’s child. She should have snapped his hand. His neck. Push him through the Force, impale him on her saber.

Ghost should have watched every light behind every visor fade to misery.

Her arm moved, her hand cupped. He should be hit, tortured, executed.

She should have done every horror imaginable.

The demon from her capture, the one who tore limbs and bathed in blood. She should arise.

Instead, her hand fell gently on his. It squeezes, then rests. She nodded. His shoulders shook like he cried. 

“I’m sorry. I’m certain they miss you as well,” she told him, quiet. 

Ghost didn’t understand at first. Having no lead of conversation to source from. It didn’t make sense, she didn’t make sense. It came upon her later, through an overheard conversation between Pershing and Gideon. 

“I theorize her abilities could be useful during interrogations, should the captive party not be willing to divulge information. It would be far safer than a mind flayer.”

“How do you mean?”

“She’s done it to myself, with my participation of course. She’s able to infiltrate consciousness, resurface memories I did not know I possessed. I saw my mother, heard her for the first time in years like she were here. It’s extraordinary Moff Gideon. Like I could speak to the dead.”

Ghost understood immediately, and suddenly years of TK programming flushed away. 

“You’re a disgrace to the Empire,” Ghost says. She reeks of venom, it drips from every word. She looks to the air.

“It should have been me!” She shouts. “You promised me everything! Where is it? Have I not done enough for you? I expect my dues!”

The air rings hollow until a knock comes at the door. She grants entry. An officer, one of Gideon’s pets. His favorite. Kane.

“Thirteenth Sister,” she says, holding a data pad. “A report has come in from your Inquisitors on Coruscant. You’ll want a look at it.”

“What’s happened?” Ghost asks, taking it. She skims the words.

Code cylinder, Inquisitors, New Republic, Arkanis, investigations, the Senate, information leak.

“It seems the effects of the initial reprogramming weren’t as successful as we once believed,” Kane says. “Gideon has already been informed. He’s awaiting your word of action.”

“Where is she?” Ghost asks.

“Her quarters. Preparing for her last session of the day.”

“Is the alien with her?”

“Yes. It hasn’t left her side.”

“Tell Moff Gideon I will meet him in the bridge momentarily.” Ghost looks behind herself, static figure remaining. “Until then, you’re dismissed.”

Officer Kane bows, the doors close.

In an instant, Ghost’s lightsaber flies into her hand. The right end powers on, she swings rapid at the girl, a feral beast. Her red blade passes though the illusion with no reaction.

She screams at it. She thrashes like a child. She forces the figment to crane its neck, instills fear in its eyes. She makes it bleed.

Somehow, even now, it’s still perfect.

A gentle waterfall washes over the Child’s face. He growls annoyed, feet kinking in the sink of his bath. “Look at you,” Lumina coos. He splashes, giggling at floating bubbles. “You’re so handsome.” 

And decisively less dirty.

She pours water over him again, taking extra care behind the ears. “Your dad is coming,” she whispers.

The room they’ve given her isn’t a far shot from her previous home of a cell. She has a cot, a desk and chair. One tall lamp. A mirror. A small fresher area with a door that refuses to close. She’s been assured there are no cameras in the space, her own detection skills confirming. Still, there’s never a thing as being overly cautious.

Grogu perks up, ears standing alert.

“I heard him,” she goes on to say, draining the basin. “He found out where you are. I think he’s coming today. That’s why we’re washing you now. So you’re nice and clean when he comes. He’ll be so impressed.”

Lumina lifts the Child onto the counter, wrapping him in a towel. “Don’t worry. Come tomorrow you’ll be back on the Crest and no one’s gonna hurt you again. I promise.”

Grogu calms, but falls into this type of silence she hasn’t seen in ages. He knows. He has to, he’s smarter than he looks. Stronger. He asks no questions after, yet Lumina finds the urge to explain regardless.

“I can’t go with you, not anymore. But it’ll be okay. You’ll be with him again, that’s all that matters.“ She pulls his coat on, fixing his feet. “You’ll have to take care of him now. Make sure he’s okay like how he does with you. And you have to listen to him. Be good, do what you’re told.” She taps his nose. “But stay sweet. Keep training. Not be afraid.” Adjusting the collar, Lumina takes him in her arms. “Do you think you can do that?”

He nods. A promise of sorts.

“Good.”

Suddenly, something shifts in the Force, the unbalancing of a scale, slowly tipping. Grogu senses it too, she’s sure. He tries to stand, examining the room. It’s a cold presence, whiskers on his head upright. 

“Okay,” Lumina whispers. “Grogu I need you to listen to me. I don’t know how much time we have, but we have to play a game. We have to play pretend, and it might be scary. But it’s just a game, okay? Remember that. It’s not real.”

He listens to her every word.

A recorder clicks, a holoscanner powers on. Doctor Pershing introduces the recording as their hundredth and twenty eighth. He’s granted her freedom from his machines, just this once she’s sure. Lumina holds the Child in her arms, rocking him steady in a bundle of her old cape. The Mandalorian’s old cape, technically. Debates are still out to whom it gives greater comfort to.

In front of her, a green medication bottle, a cup of water. The second pill of the day. She takes the single dose, drinking away the taste, unusually bitter.

“How are you?” Pershing asks.

“Fine,” she answers, soft. “He’s been hungry, no one is answering my request for food. I’ve had to give him my rations.”

“I apologize for that.” He’s sincere, a growing frown and lines of worry on his forehead. “I may have something in my lab for him. Would a travel biscuit suffice? I have plenty to share.”

“You’re getting travel biscuits?” She asks in disbelief. “I’m lucky if I have more than one piece of nuna jerky. My portions are less than half of what’s normal.” 

“That is to do with the medication,” Pershing explains. “Your nutrients, most of your allotted income for a day comes in the pill. You aren’t starving, I assure you.”

Lumina makes no comment on herself. How she wore the torn shirt she came in after a wash and it hung to her differently. Her muscles less defined. “He still needs food,” she argues. “Real food. Meat especially, he loves it.”

“I’ll make a note.”

“You’ll do,” she pushes. “I’ve made it clear I don’t care what’s done to me, he needs to be taken care of.”

“Of course. I’ll speak to the Moff.”

“Thank you.” Lumina locks onto the recorder, she presents better, more fitting to her station. Her chin lifts, a facade of pride, her feet plant on the ground. “Let’s begin,” she says. “I’d like to spend the rest of the day with him in privacy.”

Pershing presents her files, adjusting his glasses. “Certainly.” He coughs, reading the screen. Though, quite uncharacteristically, he puts it down. “Let’s try something different,” he says. “There are pressing matters we should discuss.”

Blast doors slam open, an echoing bang into the walls. Moff Gideon enters, three troopers follow. They keep their blasters aimed for assault, focused on Lumina.

Pershing flinches. “Moff Gideon.”

Lumina asks, “Why is he here?”

“You promised me one more session, we aren’t done.”

“You are now,” Gideon says, then to his men, “Hold her down. Grab the Child.”

At first step, Lumina startles bumping the table, glass spilling. Commotion ensues, her chair falling back, left hand extended. Troopers begin to yell. They say they’re prepared to shoot. Pershing tries to intervene.

“Moff Gideon you must not hurt her!” He’s somehow more scared than she is, stepping between her and the blasters. “You can’t!”

“I am well aware,” Gideon says. “Worry not doctor, it will be delivered to your new laboratory as expected.”

“You’re not taking him again,” Lumina fights. “I just got him back, you can’t take him!”

Something crosses Gideon’s face. Something sick, activated. He looks at her like a starved to a meal. She could swear he salivates, smiling, teeth and all. “I don’t want the Child,” he says. “I want you.”

Lumina’s hand dashes to her hip. She ignites her saber, red blade waving it out. “Call them off,” she says. “Call them off or I kill every single one of them.”

“Moff Gideon, please,” Pershing begs.

“Quiet,” Gideon barks. He steps forward, between the troopers. “You have a child in your arms. You’re in no position to fight,” he tells her.

“You should know not to underestimate me,” Lumina says. “Last time you did that half your fleet disappeared.”

Moff Gideon repeats a similar motion to her, his hand drawing to his hip, gripping a cylinder of black metal. A blade ignites from it, dark and light all at once. Humming at a rapid and dangerous pace.

She stills. “What is that?”

“You aren’t familiar?” Gideon hums, matching pitch to the saber. “You will be.” In a violent strike his arm raises above his head and swings down on Lumina. She blocks, plasma clashing inharmoniously. Instinctively she turns out, creating space between Grogu and the scene.

“I’ll give you one chance Gideon,” she says. “I don’t play fair.”

“Neither do I.” And his blade swings again, lower. She matches, a scorch mark on the floor.

The stormtroopers fall back, lining the wall. They know better than to intervene, Pershing follows though his guidance comes with fear.

Gideon swings again, and again. He uses two hands on his hilt and all the strength he can muster, the full weight of his body. Lumina predicts his moves, the sole explanation he can think of for her excellency. Still, he moves in, taking advantage of her occupied left side. 

It doesn’t work.

Nothing works.

He can’t win.

In a desperate urgency, Moff Gideon miscalculates. For the duration of their spar she’s worked solely on the defense. Until now. His blocking is just a second too late. Her swing, right on time. Moff Gideon’s saber flies across the hold. His hand goes with it. Cauterized at the point of impact. He crumbles to the floor, clutching to his chest what was once his hand, now a deformed burnt stub. He screams.

Stormtroopers and their weapons flood Lumina’s eye line. Her saber powers off.

She says, “You forget what I come from.”

“I haven’t forgotten thing.” Gideon snarls, a beaten animal. He glares at Pershing as if he were responsible for this outcome. “Has sedative been delivered?”

Pershing answers, quiet. “Yes.”

Sound fades, hollowed in a canyon. Lumina’s vision darts to their table, green medication bottle toppled. Pills spilt. Her heart drops to unsinkable levels.

“What did you do?” She asks, shaking. “What did you give me?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Grab her,” Gideon barks.

They do. The troopers, in her shock they swarm her, yanking her arms. The Child falls. She snaps out of her daze when he yips. Pershing picks him up. Struggling, Lumina’s lungs burn with rapid breath. “What did you do?” she asks again, screaming. “What did you do to me? Ghost! Let go of—Ghost!”

“I’m sorry!” Pershing cries. “I’m sorry! I had no choice!”

“Let go of me! Ghost!” Her breath moves faster than she can manage. “Let me go,” she sobs. “Let me go, please. I’m sorry. Please.”

“Moff Gideon—“

“I’m disappointed,” Gideon interrupts. He stands on bent knee. “I expected so much more from you,” he tells her. “I imagine your father would not take well to your behavior.”

“You know nothing about him,” Lumina snaps. 

“I know he wouldn’t tolerate you betraying the Empire. Leaking sensitive Imperial data directly to the New Republic. You have compromised the very foundation of your being.”

“What?”

“The Arkanis Imperial Academy is currently under siege by journalists and investigators. It seems your efforts have taken effect quicker than you expected.”

It hits. Relena.

“She did it,” Lumina whispers. Her eyes flash wild. “You’re fucked.”

“This, is merely a setback. We will overcome.”

“We?” Lumina asks. “This Empire is nothing. What forces do you have now? Admiral Sloane? Commandant Hux? Scraps of what once was? You don’t even have Thrawn. You won’t win. You can’t. It’s over Gideon.”

“I already have,” Gideon says. “I win because I have you.”

“I’ll die before I help you.”

“If you insist, that can be arranged,” he says. “If the reprogramming doesn’t take that is. Of course, once Doctor Pershing harvests your cells, you will no longer be necessary.”

“What?”

“The drugs should take any second now. I should warn you, hallucinations are a harmful side effect. Although,” he muses, “you’re no stranger to that.”

It’s comical, the activation on his word. The flash of heat, beading sweat. “What did you do to me?” Everything is light, floaty, words sound seconds after they’re spoken.

“I’ve done nothing. Yet.” He addresses the troopers. “Time to move.”

They echo, “Yes sir.”

One push, her legs give out, a second, her arms. 

“Sweet dreams,” Moff Gideon says. “318.”

A third, her head.

The last thing she hears, “Take her to the mind flayer.”

They throw Lumina on a type of operating table, room separate from the rest. Her head bangs against the base board, jolting consciousness. They strap down her arms, legs, chest, forehead. Nearby electricity stings.  Her vision flashes in and out, hazed at the edge.

“Moff Gideon,” Doctor Pershing says. Muffled, miles away. “I must protest.”

“I’ve heard enough from you.”

“Sir please—please. There’s no telling what damage the voltage will cause. Her body will not be able to process high electrical currents in the state its in.”

They had taken her to the mind flayer, hadn’t they? It would explain the burning. She’s heard stories, seen first hand what the machine does to its victims. 

Extremist electroshock therapy mixed with sensory overload. To put simply, her own personal hell. The results enough to make Tatooine shiver. Stripping the sentient of all identity. Soulless, they become trapped in a shell of their own bodies. Some lose the ability to speak, to walk, some become so far gone their own organs forget how to function.

They become nothing. A permanent member of the walking dead.

“Moff Gideon I am begging,” Pershing says. “Allow her to come with me unharmed. I assure you—”

Heels click, entering the room. “The Moff is not interested in your negotiations.” Ghost. “Your services are no longer necessary, Doctor. It’s time for you to go.”

“You’re her friend, are you not? Please, tell him to spare her.”

“Doctor,” she says. “Don’t tell me you’re attached to it?” Her face appears above Lumina. “Personally, I don’t care for mutants.” She rises, turning to the doctor. “If it dies, make it again. Make a million of it and keep one to fuck, I don’t care. It isn’t real.” 

“You’re wrong,” Pershing says. “She’s more human than you’ll ever be.”

Silence infects the room.

“Then she’s weak.” Shoes squeak against tile, turning. “You two,” Ghost says. “Escort Doctor Pershing to the hangar. A shuttle is waiting for him. If he resists, kill him.” Her face enters focus again, she grabs Lumina’s chin. “You once said you have an uncanny inability to die. Prove it.”

Bo-Katan Kryze is found on a planet called Lafete in the Outer Rim. Cara and Fennec opt to in the Slave I while Din goes with Boba Fett. Their brief discussion of a plan is the most they’ve said to another since Nevarro. Boba warns Din that he and Bo-Katan may not see eye to eye. She doesn’t like clones, he doesn’t expand, but something tells Din the river runs deep. The situation is far more personal than he can divulge from silence, but he knows not to push.

They agree to let Din do the talking.

He and Boba walk into the cantina, finding Bo-Katan with Koska Reeves. The younger one snickers, signaling Bo-Katan with a toe tap to the calf. 

He tells Bo-Katan of the Child. Stolen by Moff Gideon. He tells her they have coordinates to find him. Everything is ready, he just needs muscle.

Her interest turns. Din mentions her of his light cruiser, preemptively offering it to her. 

“You want to retake Mandalore,” he says. “You do it in that, not a gauntlet.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Boba mutters. “Mandalore? The Empire turned that planet to glass. There’s nothing left. Reclaiming is a spice dream.”

The domino starts here. Back and forth spats. Who is and isn’t Mandalorian. Boba’s armor. His father. His existence.

“You are a clone,” Bo-Katan sneers. “I’ve heard your voice thousands of times.”

He responds on instinct. “Does that include my sister?”

Her brows raise. “So, you’re the Imperial lapdog I’ve heard so much about.” Her stare flickers to Din. “You sure know how to pick your company.”

Boba responds before he can. “Where are they?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

Conversation lulls. Din can sense Boba’s eyes on him, through the visor. Bo-Katan follows, exposed, she frowns.

“Where’s my sister?”

“I wouldn’t know.” She’s earnest. “Omega dropped off the map after the war ended. I haven’t heard from her since.”

Boba’s nod is robotic. Up. Down. “And the other two?”

“Alive.”

“Where?”

Intention falls behind every word Bo-Katan speaks, mimicking a knife’s edge. “If you know what’s good, you’ll leave them alone. They don’t need you in their lives. You clones have done enough.”

“Is that what you tell him when he asks of his father? I recall only clones being at the wake. If you care so much, where were you?“

She says nothing.

He continues. “The Empire has taken his child, you know how this ends. You’ve seen the effects. Frankly princess, I don’t care how much you hate me or my kind. But if I find out there have been days where you’ve looked that boy in the eye and told him that his father was a bad man—”

“I haven’t,” Bo-Katan says, quick on the draw. “His mother is one of the only friends I have left. She’s my family. I know what he did. The sacrifices he made. How happy he made her. I would never disparage him,” she says. ”I don’t know where your sister is, but I do know that none of them would want to see you. Not after everything.”

Boba is quiet, just for a moment. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t scoff or shake his head. He just stands there.

“They took her too,” he says. “Moff Gideon took her. She’s gone.”

Bo-Katan asks, “Who?”

Din answers, “Lumina.”

She looks at Boba. “How do you know her?” 

He answers slow, accent thick and low. “Why do you think the Empire hired me?”

Bo-Katan freezes where she sits. Din can’t make out much, she hardly gives anything at all. But he watches her eyes, how they flash. Her subtle but present hitching breath. She doesn’t look at Din, only Boba Fett. Boba Fett who says nothing else but nods. 

She nods back.

Koska looks just as lost as he is. He can find comfort in that.

“We will help you,” Bo-Katan says. “Both of you. In exchange, we will keep that ship to retake Mandalore.” Then to Din, “If you should manage to finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”

“Fair enough,” Din says.

“As for the girl, I will take her—“

“She stays with me,” Boba interrupts. “I raised her, I’m the only one she trusts. She won’t go with anyone else. I will not debate this.”

Bo-Katan concedes. “Fine.” She turns to Din. “One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me. It is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything. Except for pure beskar. I agree to your conditions on the terms that I be the one to kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will finally be within reach.”

“Help me rescue the Child and you can have whatever you want,” Din says. “He is my only priority.”

Capturing Doctor Pershing is a task easier said than done. Information from the data capture on Morak detailed a scheduled departure for the scientist on a Lambda class shuttle. Tracking coordinates included.

Boba makes quick work of it once discovered, blasting the fighter with an ion cannon. “Lower your shields,” he pings. “Disengage all transponders, prepare for boarding.” He turns to Din, standing behind. “That means you too.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I got that.”

He threatens Cara, or he tries to threaten Cara. The older of the two pilots. He shoots his companion dead for trying to negotiate. He brings up Alderraan, boasting at its destruction.

“I was on the Death Star,” he says. “My brother pulled the switch.”

Cara spares Din a look through the corner of her vision. “Maybe they were friends,” she says.

“Not the time,” Din mutters.

“Do you have any idea how many millions were killed on those bases?” The pilot asks. “Mothers. Fathers. Sons. Daughters. How many people were there just for a job?”

Funny, the point is less sympathetic when he says it.

“The Rebels slaughtered them with no mercy and the galaxy cheered.”

“Last chance,” Cara says, turning her blaster. “I don’t have time for this.”

He says, “Destroying your planet was a small price to pay to pay to ride the galaxy of terrorism.”

Cara shoots him between the eyes and steps over his body. She grabs Doctor Pershing by the arm, pulling him forward. “Let’s go.”

The room is dark.

No, dark does no justice to adequately describe the state of things.

The room is filled with ink.

There are no lights, no sounds, no breeze coming from ventilation shafts. Everything is off, not a hint of energy, not a spark. There are no wires, no monitors, no trackers. The Force itself ceases to exist.

For a long time, Lumina stays in the ink, unmoving. Hours pass with believing she still sleeps, or worse. Caught in a limbo, trapped in her own consciousness she’s rendered unable to move even muscle.

Feeling returns slow, unnoticed until recognition comes with the familiar pressure of fingertips against her thighs. A cool block against her back. In an instant her eyes flash open, greeted by the complete nothingness. Her nerves reawaken through pumping blood, a small fire throughout her body.

Slow and in desperation, she feels along herself. For each of her limbs, fingers, all still attached. She pinches her tongue, then runs it along her teeth. There are no cuts on her face, no tenderness which indicates bruising. She’s clothed, left in the base of a skintight suit.

She explores the cell in caution, running her hands over every inch she can. The walls are smooth, cold. Seams of panelling are flush, nothing is loose, not a screw out of place. The door is found by its indent in the wall, sealed shut with no forgiveness for movement. 

She knocks, startling herself with the echo.

She knocks again.

Mouth dry, her tongue sticks to the roof. Nothing hurts, not really. She holds tension in her jaw, a light headache but nothing more. 

She can’t remember much of anything, but against all odds she feels refreshed.

What happened?

Her voice is hoarse, crackling. “Hello?”  She coughs. “Hello?”

She can’t exactly call for anyone specific, names evade her at the moment. There’s no guarantee anyone would hear her anyways, let alone come. She slumps back, stepping to what she assumes is the rooms middle.

Very well. 

“This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser,” Bo-Katan says within the Slave I. “In the old days it would carry a crew of several hundred. Now it operates with a tiny fraction fo that.”

“Your assessment is misleading,” Doctor Pershing says.

“Oh great,” Cara snorts. “An objective opinion.”

“This isn’t subterfuge, I assure you. There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board and the Empire’s strongest Inquisitor. She is the one who abducted the Child—”

Something in the air shifts, tangible inside Din.

“What?” He asks.

“What’s an Inquisitor?” Koska asks.

“The strongest Force users left in the galaxy,” Pershing says. “In the case of CF-313, trained from infancy to be high grade assassins.”

“So, murderous Jedi?” Cara asks.

“Jedi killers,” Fennec corrects. 

“A crude definition, but yes,” Pershing says. “313 has taken it upon herself to enact as Grand Inquisitor, their leader. She possesses all the skill and strength of Jedi, only dangerous, violent. Unlike Jedi, she has no moral code preventing her from victory.”

“You’re saying she took the Child?” Din asks.

“Yes.”

“That’s not right,” he mutters. He feels the sensation of a migraine, lingering in the entrance of his mind. He swears under his breath.

Cara asks, “You okay?”

“What do you mean—she didn’t take the kid,” he argues. “She… Lu…”

Bo-Katan says, “Take him up to Fett.”

Cara grabs his arm, he pushes her away. “No, no. What are you talking about?” He asks Pershing. “What does she look like?”

“Mando,” Cara whispers.

He repeats. “What does she look like?”

Pershing shifts, his vision flickers from side to side. “Her physical make up places her height at 180. She is extremely pale, white hair, thin. Overall in excellent health.”

“Who told her to take the Child?”

“Pardon?”

“Someone gave her directives. Who?”

“To my knowledge, Moff Gideon prepared strict instructions to all forces that the Child… and you, remain unharmed. The Empire’s use for the Child is now minimal, his extraction was not necessary. She disobeyed on her own volition. The Moff was not pleased, I can assure you that.”

“Wait,” Cara says. “If you don’t want the kid, why attack?”

“To retrieve the Daughter, of course. It was at the demand of her that the Mandalorian and Child be left alone should Moff Gideon pursue a second bombardment following his failure on Daro. I’ve seen the communication myself, she was quite clear on her threat.”

Din discovers his voice travels without his knowledge. “What did it say?”

“In short,” Pershing says, “Moff Gideon extended an invitation into the Empire and a total pardon. The Daughter declined. She stated should Moff Gideon attack again it be directed at her alone. Harm to you or the Child would result in an attack to his family.”

Cara reacts first, physically at least. Din’s stomach drops and twists. She bumps his arm.

“Who said this?” She asks.

Din answers, breathless. “Lumina.” 

No one else speaks, not until Bo-Katan raises the question. “Where is she now?”

Pershing adjusts the map. “When our final session concluded, she was delivered to this holding cell.”

“Session?” Din asks.

“We hold various appointments throughout the day. Psychoanalysis, medical, physical, etcetera. At the time, we had completed one for her psychology and mutations.”

“Let’s move on,” Bo-Katan says.

Din ignores. “What mutations?”

“She exhibits a variety of genetic anomalies. Strength, intellect, standard organ function.”

“Energy?” 

“Yes,” Pershing says. “Yes precisely. She’s a remarkable piece of bioengineering. I’ve never met anything like her.”

Cara voices Din’s thoughts. “Bioengineering?”

Fennec interrupts. “Your dark troopers,” she says. “They’re droids, right? Where are they bivouacked?”

The map changes. “They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay,” Pershing says. “They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”

“How long to power up?”

“A few minutes, perhaps.”

Din asks, “Where’s the Child being held?”

“The brig, here. Under armed guard.”

“Is the Inquisitor?” Koska asks.

“Perhaps. More likely the bridge. Wherever Moff Gideon is, she will follow.”

“Very well,” Bo-Katan says. “We go in two parties.”

“I go alone,” Din says.

“Our strength is in numbers.”

He repeats. “I go alone.”

“Fine. Phase one, Lambda shuttle issues a distress call. Two, we emergency land at the mouth of the fighter launch tube, cutting off any potential interceptors. Koska, Fennec, Dune and myself disembark with maximum initiative. Once we’ve neutralized the launch bay, we make our way through these tandem decks in a penetration maneuver. Afterwards, Fennec and I will retrieve Lumina before entering the bridge. There, I will challenge the Moff. If the Inquisitor is an issue, we leave it to Lumina.”

“You’re kidding,” Cara deadpans.

“I wish I were.”

“What about me?” Din asks.

“We’ll be misdirection. Once we draw a crowd, you slip through the shadows, get the kid.”

“What about the dark troopers?” Cara asks.

“Their bay is on the way to the brig.” Bo-Katan looks to Pershing. “Can he make it there before they deploy?”

He nods. “It’s possible.”

“Here. Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.”

Din responds, “We’ll meet at the bridge.”

So this is it.

The end—or more accurately, its climax.

The end is yet to come, when it does it will not be mistaken. The end will arrive slow, with agony, lingering words unsaid, and acceptance. This is not that, it is entirely too calm. 

At a vain attempt to track time, Lumina counted three hundred minutes before giving up. No one has come for her. No one has knocked. 

If this is the afterlife, she isn’t impressed. Though, it is fitting for one of her station. Whatever that may be.

Admittedly, the stoic peace is a welcomed wash from the usual chaos filling the day to day. As a part of her training rituals, the Machine would place her in rooms just like this. Completely isolating her from the outside world. In hindsight, he may have meant it as a way to desensitize her to torture, but she always enjoyed it more than she should have. Now is no exception.

Is this the future in which she swore to resent the past? What an odd declaration of intent when taken into consideration that her whole life—every broken fragment of her being, every lie, every name, every mask, every droplet of forced anger, every will she has held for good or evil—has been in reaction and the direct result of the past. 

This has all happened before, in one way or another.

The Machine, the war, the after.

Becoming a waitress, a mercenary, something to be wanted but never kept. Someone recognized but never placed. 

She has never been of herself.

Not really.

Those days, the before, they have no greater reason to be hated than the rest of it all. There’s no point in it. Directed anger towards one but not another. Acceptance of one but not all.

Why waste thought? Why bother when loss is inevitable?

Lumina looks to the ceiling, head tilting. She can’t see anything, true, but lack of proof does not equate to a lack of existence. The first outward sound she heard echos, turning metal. Landing in her hand, round glass. A lightbulb.

Commotion comes from the outside, a siren alarm, boots running across tile, shouting.

Truly, nothing has changed. 

It ends in the absence of peace, as it always has.

She suspects it is night.

Though an argument can be made that night as a concept holds no meaning here. Not in space.

The story has concluded long ago and there is still dark. Ink and tar.

And she resents no one—not for the lack of rivers, forest, mountains, farms. Not for the missing child to hold and call her own. Not for the Mandalorian—not even herself.

She has nothing left.

Finally.

No flowers.

No sun.

No stars. 

Though, somehow, through some conception unknown to all but the Force itself… there is light.

It flickers, just now in the palm of her hand. A faint golden glow. There it is again, quick as lightning.

Just as before.

When it comes a third time, it is violent. The door opens, gears rusted, light from the corridor blinding.

"Get up." She hears. "It's time."

So it is.

According to Din Djarin’s internal display, it's been exactly three minutes and eighteen seconds since Bo-Katan departed into Moff Gideons cruiser.

She instructed him to wait for five.

In the allotted time since, he has removed and replaced his helmet eight times. Once every fifteen seconds. Now, he removes it again.

Nine.

When before he was trapped in a slow moving vessel of spacetime, praying for the days end. Now, he prays for the vessel to stop. Time refuses to wait for him.

He stares at his own reflection in the window with no visible emotion and nothing but turmoil inside. What does he do? What can he do?

Nothing.

The headache grows.

Boba said it should have faded days ago. That she used to do the same to him, its only ever lasted three rotations. He refuses to dive into specifics.

Din isn’t sure it would make a difference anymore.

Hands rub across his face, sighing. He welcomes the fresh air like it were his first experience with it. It might as well be. This is something he cannot become accustomed to. No matter his personal wants. 

Delusions.

Fears.

It’s all the same.

All meant to be locked away.

The time for thought has passed.

His priority is in the Child, as it should have been all along. He must rectify his mistakes. Retrieve the Child, discover his covert, atone for his sins. Disappear. Forget everything. 

Okay, he thinks, okay.

The countdown on his vambrace rings. Five minutes. 

The Mandalorian lowers the beskar over his head until it hisses and clicks.

Ten.

This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force.

There is a reason attachments are forbidden.

It is the repetition of poetry.

Chapter Thirty-Five: Apocalypse

Taglist: @lexloon​ @jay-bel​ @xsadderdazeforeverx​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny​ @hello-th3r3​

#Din Djarin x OC #Mandalorian #Mandalorian Fanfiction #Mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian Fanfic #Din Djarin x Original Female Character #din djarin x female oc #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x original character #mando x original character #mando x ofc #Mando x original character #mando x original female character #Starlight

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

hiya there. was hoping for some reassurance/comfort. (mentions of abuse and bullying but no in-depth detail)

i've experienced quite a lot of bullying as well as about a year of no contact sexual abuse from a previous partner (i was about 13-14 and he always about a year older than me).

ever since i was 11 i knew that something was wrong with me (in the mental health sort of way) but it's taken a long time for me to get help. i was referred to our mental health services and bounced around for a short time (between a short-term therapy service, the overarching service, and an early-intervention psychosis service) before i had an 'urgent' psychiatric assessment. however then i was immediately discharged via letter and was told it was all due to my autism (professionally diagnosed).

i feel as though i failed my 11 year old self. we have (suspected) DID so there is a sense of disconnect (even though im 90% sure that was me) but it still feels like i didn't work hard enough. it's not necessarily my wish to get help (suspected szpd reasons) but it's what they wanted and i pushed through all that uncomfortable stuff for them only to be immediately turned away. i can feel it eating at me constantly and my mother doesn't seem too bothered. i don't know what to do and it makes me feel like im a fake. i don't really know how to perceive myself.

-mika (please tag it as such if you post this too please)

Hi Mika,

I'm sorry to hear about everything you've been through, not only in the abuse you suffered but your struggles with getting proper mental health treatment.

Unfortunately, accessing effective and affordable mental healthcare can be needlessly difficult, and often just adds to the ongoing mental health challenges. I'm sorry that you've experienced this first-hand. Please know that none of this is your fault, and in fact I'm proud of you for attempting to advocate for yourself, both your health and your needs.

While it's perfectly valid to feel discouraged, invisible, or insignificant, it can also be incredibly rewarding to continue to try and find the care you deserve. But it's ultimately important to give yourself patience and compassion as you navigate this system, both institutional and possibly internal as well.

If anyone would like to add any comments or suggestions, feel free to do so. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #tw abuse #tw sa #tw csa #tw nccsa #tw cocsa #tw nccocsa #tw medical abuse #tw medical trauma #tw ableism #mika

[diary-of-some-random-gothamite]

Day 7 of Posting: I went to my counseling session and my counselor asked if she could look at my blog and I didn't want to say no because that'd look suspicious and she wants to help me anyway uh we got to yesterday and, me having to explain to my counselor what I meant by "mild psychosis" and. Good news! I'm not going to Arkham! But apparently I might need an "early intervention"

#rp blog #going to be honest I'm just hoping she doesn't contact my father or something

[gosuperdonnie]

(THIS IS A VENT POST. if you come on here to ask me if I’ve tried XYZ or if I’ve looked at ABC, I can assure you: I have and the service is either not available to me or will not meet my needs. also, I will block you.)

love to have a long-existing but recently identified psychotic disorder in a state where all the extant services for people with psychosis are either:

a) “early intervention” programs designed for people whose psychosis was identified early,

b) programs that for some reason have one set of eligibility criteria listed and then if you call them to set up a screening, they inform you that they actually have a much different set of eligibility criteria that is much more restrictive, or

c) institutionalization.

so since I’m in crisis from a condition I’ve had since I was 10 but was not diagnosed until last year, but I have a job and stable housing and haven’t been institutionalized long-term or arrested, my options are either:

a) non-specialized services (read: CBT or DBT) with providers that know nothing about psychosis – which amounts to at most 1 hour of therapy a week.

b) medication management (read: psychiatrists prescribing me whatever antipsychotic they give all their psychotic clients and treating me like I can’t possibly have any insight or thoughts about my treatment)

c) institutionalization.

and, of course, even if I could find a program that was community-based and not shitty, they probably wouldn’t take me because MH services have no idea how to work with people with co-occurring IDD. so most of them just say “you’re not eligible for services if you have an IDD” and turn us over to IDD services … which just means ABA.

I have a meeting with a social worker on Friday, at which point I’m very likely to be told “you don’t qualify for ACT, you don’t qualify for any community-based treatments other than therapy and meds, if you’re really that much in crisis, go to the hospital.” because fuck me if I want access to community services to help me stay in the community and keep my job and housing, right? I should have to get institutionalized, lose my job, and make me and my partner homeless in order to even have a chance of getting proper care, because that’s how the system works apparently.

but if I get angry at the social worker, or try to explain why I’m frustrated at the lack of *any* community services for people with dual diagnosis IDD/SPMI, I’ll get labeled as “treatment resistant” or “hostile.” because apparently resisting ineffective and inhumane treatment is a bad thing. apparently it’s “hostile” to be upset at a system and gatekeepers who fundamentally exist to prevent people from getting help.

and people wonder why I’m angry and tired and unwilling to cooperate. because my entire life has been not getting anything close to the help I needed while people insisted I was selfish and a burden for getting even the most basic level of care. because there are no options for me that won’t fuck up my life for years if not forever because someone decided I haven’t suffered enough to deserve adequate care.

I fucking hate living like this. especially when my state is “the best in the country” for IDD waiver services, except that fuck you if you have IDD/MI dual diagnosis. because the mental health system won’t do shit for people with IDD and the IDD waiver system basically will not pay for anything that has a mental health component. “professionals” here love to crow about person-centered planning and positive supports and integrated care and it’s all a fucking joke. if you have IDD (especially IDD where you are obviously disabled and need substantial accommodations for care) and mental illness (especially SPMI or anything more impactful than like mild depression or anxiety), there are functionally no services. unless you want to live in a group home or a psych ward or a “residential treatment facility” or other institution.

#donnie talks #donnie vents #institutionalization cn #institutions cn #ABA cn #mental health shit #‘person centered planning’ and ‘positive supports’ are fucking jokes #nothing has made me more suicidal and more in crisis than the entire fucking lack of any competent community supports #suicide cn #I guess

[mentalhealthhelpsblog]

🔵Delusions Occurring in Bipolar Disorder

🔵A delusion is a false belief that a person firmly holds to be true, regardless of whether it actually is true or even possible. Someone who's delusional will hang on tight to such a belief even if other people are able to logically explain why it's false. 🔵 In bipolar disorder, psychotic events usually occur during manic episodes, but they can develop during a depressive state as well. Either way, if psychotic episodes are part of your bipolar disorder, your official diagnosis will likely be a bipolar disorder with psychotic features (sometimes referred to as bipolar psychosis). 🔵If you are diagnosed with bipolar psychosis it doesn't mean that your illness is more severe than that of someone who has bipolar without psychosis. One study found that people with bipolar psychosis tend to be more likely to experience more rapid cycling, as well as more chronic mood disturbances, than those who have bipolar without psychosis.

🔵Warning Signs of Psychosis

Psychosis doesn't normally happen suddenly. There are often warning signs that can let you know that it's coming, including:

* A decrease in performance at work or at school

* A sudden decline in self-care or personal hygiene

* Being unable to do things you normally can

* Confused speech or trouble communicating, such as changing topics rapidly or speaking incoherently

* Difficulty telling reality from fantasy

* Extreme changes in sleeping or eating patterns

* Having trouble focusing and concentrating

* Saying or doing bizarre things that don't reflect reality 

* Spending a lot more time alone than usual

* Strong, inappropriate emotions or having no feelings at all

* Suddenly losing interest in the things you used to enjoy

* Suspiciousness or uneasiness with others

Treatment

It is treatable, especially if treatment is focused and prompt. Early intervention makes a big difference in recovery. Treatment may include antipsychotic medications and psychotherapy, such as cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) and supportive psychotherapy.

#manic bipolar #mental health #pyschosis #bipolar disorder #information

[gray-gray-gray-gray]

Chapter 6 of Schizophrenia, Third Edition: The prodrome of schizophrenia

Typically, early psychosis work targets people presenting with a first episode of psychosis. However, there are identifiable signs and symptoms before psychosis has onset and there has been a worldwide movement to develop comprehensive early intervention programs for schizophrenia. Is it possible to intervene before the onset of the full disorder? Studies that focus on pre-onset are controversial because the development of a disorder remains a possibility.

Many that seek help during the prodromal phase are already debilitated by their symptoms despite them being sub-threshold for psychosis. Reducing the duration of untreated psychosis in the first episode may prevent or limit the future severity of symptoms, chronicity of the disorder, or resultant collateral damage. Many people who receive treatment for their psychotic symptoms and go into remission still find themselves disabled. It's believed this disability formed during the prodromal period.

For those with a psychotic illness, the prodrome is the time period where there is a change from a person's premorbid functioning up until obvious psychotic symptoms occur. 80-90% of patients with schizophrenia report a variety of symptoms including changes in perception, beliefs, cognition, mood, affect, and behavior that preceded psychosis.

Ideally providing treatment during the prodrome would delay or even prevent the transition into psychosis. Even if it can only delay the development of a psychotic episode, early intervention may minimize the impact that the episode has on functioning. However, in the absense of infallible markers of vulnerability the ethics of early intervention research needs to be seriously considered.

#nerdpost #graypost #psychology #psychosis #schizophrenia #book: schizophrenia third edition #prodrome #prodromal phase

[granulesofsand]

TW for religious themes.

This might be a weird ask but, is it possible for organic systems to have very particular inner structures?

Our system has a main system then multiple subsystems (moreso subgroups) that are barred from the main system and are incapable of coming over unless summoned by our primary gatekeeper or in absolute emergency (system collapse or reshuffle usually).

It means we don't tend to have flashbacks to early childhood and when we do, it all seems fake and the memories dont last. Its all so well organised that absolutely nothing slips ever, and it frustrates our host (due to trauma denial) and some paranoia holders (who suspect RAMCOA but have no memory evidence to stop them from spiralling).

We also have a higher power who oversees our gatekeepers but never intervenes unless to punish or retrain our gatekeepers, and even then their intervention is few and far between. The last time they interacted, they plummeted us into a brief but terrifying episode of religious psychosis that only let up when they returned to overseeing.

Our system is also oddly religious based in structure. Almost all of our gatekeepers are angels of some kind, in accordance to a specific christian heirarchy of angels, despite only being raised catholic for a very small portion of our childhood before our caregiver gave up on raising us religious.

I know theres no particular way a HC-DID system should look, but is it possible for an organic system to have such complex structures?

It is possible. The angels might be from a period or alter you don’t have access to yet, or it could be from a snapshot in time that didn’t require much exposure.

It’s a common experience for memories to seem fake. Barriers are put up to keep ignorant alters from exposure. Shame can play a role in avoidance of memories in anyone.

Abusers of any kind can reinforce dissociation with denial. Some RAMCOA systems (I would consider this to be at best gaslighting, which can qualify) have dissociation enforced with perpetrators telling them “this is not real” or “nothing is wrong”. It could be chanted or spoken, during abuse or after.

Trusting memories is hard, especially for topics were told are unbelievable or rare. It doesn’t matter so much whether it happened as how it carries over. You don’t have to know it was real because it’s real to you, and your reality matters.

Depending on how your& system is set up, alters might prefer to process alone or together. If fusion or high integration are goals, it might be that everyone should integrate these memories as part of the body’s history.

It’s okay for alters to keep things private, with the exception of active harm. An alter shouldn’t have to disclose of their experiences to let the fronters know an outsider is dangerous, but they might have to share some details if they are running programs.

Whether your& system is organic or programmed, alters do have to process to heal. Leave the floor open for those who want to do memory work. Keep an eye out for programs in play.

It’s easier on the system to let things happen with time, but you can expedite the journey with good therapy and healing in other ways. Building trust and relationships (internally and externally) creates the safety required for the natural dissolve of barriers.

Amnesiac alters might never witness proof of programming. Programmed alters can decide to stop their jobs as they recover, and it can be done with support from other alters with other kinds of integration.

However your system heals is good and right, even if you can’t tell how far along you are. You can set out some plans for how to talk with those you can and how to stabilize through rough times. It’s a long road, but you& will get there.

#ramcoa #tw ramcoa #ramcoa programming #did osdd #dissociative identity disorder #osddid #polyfragmented system

[catboymafia]

(Unrebloggable post)

Mental illness does things like make you think you have special secret true information that contradicts mainstream narratives. I thought the masons were putting human parts in grocery store products, ye thinks hitler was misunderstood. The elaborate processing of information through psychosis is obscured except for the resulting output. We dont know why he arrived at this false conclusion and are unlikely to find out until or unless he explains that (eg) dragon energy is sending him messages from god and actually hitler was a pacifistic figurehead and wanted to found a new isreal for the jewish diaspora in madagascar before the party faction controlled by ernst rohm created the concentration camp plan and shifted focus to ethnic cleansing. From the perspective of "a ghost told me he was just a fallguy but he's still in soft hell trying to earn his wings by helping antinazis in the living world because he was still a collaborator and he helps jewish kids give class speeches now and i astral projected and watched once", his comments would make sense. That is mental illness.

We should probably open up the conversation about how conservatives sprinkle psychosis triggers into their culture warring, and these sprinkles create a background radiation of facsist conspiracy mythology that seems to have a special magnetism for the obsessive thinking of people experiencing psychosis. It is easy to get pipelined into qanon territory from any given rabbithole. And this seems to be an intentional weaponization of mental illness against the mentally ill. The mainstream dialogue has no form of compassionate support aimed at addressing or deescalating this process.

A fair intervention is looking for impartial sources that introduce a sense of unreality to the psychotic delusion (which feels hyper-real when uncontested); eg does ye agree that hitler wrote mein kampf or was that ghostwritten by ernst rohm? If hitler wrote it you cant say he didnt hate jewish people, and hating jewish people was demonstrably not good for germany, so what gives with saying anything to the contrary? Catching vibes? Seeing what happens? Thatd be stimulation seeking, self-destructive recklessness; depression copes plus psychosis. We can blame people for their struggles or we can be more solipsistic; struggle is going to be "inappropriate" a lot at this juncture, its early on in the awokening. In a case like ye's where he's seeming to be taking on new beliefs that are bizarre and its during a time of extreme personal stress, i think we can kind of rule out "he was always hateful and these are his core beliefs coming out", and yet people are acting like his present state is interchangeable with that scenario morally and reacting from that perspective. I debate how woke this is.

#kanye west

[clowngremlin]

i need to phone the local mental health centre and i have been putting it off for weeks (my therapist phoned the early psychosis intervention clinic while we were in session because she knew i would have a hard time doing it, but since this isn’t my first psychotic episode, they gave me the number to my community mental health clinic) but i am sooo nervous about it.....like i know things might not get better if i don’t phone them to get the help, but i’m just like so worried they’re gonna dismiss me or think i’m some kind of freak? like i know they probably deal with people like me all the time, but it just makes me so anxious and in turn i get worse because i’m so anxious :~(

#upset gremlin noises #also worried about being put on a higher dose of antipsychotics because i am already super tired all the time cause of the dose i'm on #and i sleep for like 11-12 hours every night because of it

[schizosupport]

hey, i'm going in to see someone who specializes in early psychosis intervention to get a diagnosis soon. everyone thinks im likely on the schizospectrum but im open to any diagnosis. the thing is i'm not very good at speaking or communicating so i was wondering if you have any tips on what kinds of things to say if the goal is diagnosis w/ a psychiatrist?

Hi there!

Since you are seeing the early intervention team, I assume that your symptoms are recently emerging and/or of a type where you are not coming from the direction of a recent major psychotic episode.

It is also likely that you are experiencing symptoms commonly seen in the prodromal phase of psychosis/schizo spec stuff, without anything overtly psychotic having happened, and that you are referred based on a concern that you will develop psychotic symptoms.

I'm talking about this, because it's relevant for the question of diagnosis and how to communicate your symptoms, and your goals in treatment.

A lot of the time, a psychiatrist will have to make a diagnosis to start treatment for various systemic reasons. Since you're seeing an early psychosis intervention team, they are likely to diagnose you with something in a psychotic direction. If you are not experiencing full blown psychosis, but you are experiencing things in that direction, then they will often go for something like schizotypal, but to be honest the diagnosis is not super important.

The most important thing is that they listen to your concerns and needs, and take you seriously. It's also important that you don't allow them to define your experience too much.

For example, it's true that certain symptoms and experiences make it more likely that you will have other symtoms later. But in my experience some psychiatrists overstate the risk, and use it to bully patients into treatments that they might not want or necessarily need.

For example, they might claim that someone should take antipsychotics as a preventative measure, and that not doing so would be irresponsible. Your health-care provider should not be pressuring you to take meds that you don't feel are helping you. Period.

I have known plenty of people who benefitted from a low dose antipsychotic even if they weren't dealing with fullblown psychosis, but it's not universally beneficial. And some psychiatrists will insist on prescribing it to people they consider 'at risk', even if it's actively harming that person and not giving any benefits.

That's not good, because they are causing harm in the moment, based on a 'medical hunch' that if they don't, something worse will happen later. So in terms of treatment, my advice is to listen to the doctors, but also trust your own experience about what is helping and what is not.

As for communication with the doctors.. The good news is that it's a part of their job to help you provide information. They might ask you an open-ended question to begin with, but usually they will quickly move on to asking you more direct questions about whether you have experienced this or that. If you struggle to respond, they will often move on to things that can be answered with a yes or a no. If you say yes, they will try to prompt you for examples.

If you have anyone who knows you well who can come with you, you can ask them to help explain or provide examples at the appointment, and then you only need to confirm to the doctor that what they are saying is correct.

I think the most helpful thing for yourself to prepare would be to think of what are things that are most bothersome and difficult for you in terms of symtoms. Try to think of specific instances where it happened or was a problem, so you have a 'library' ready in your head of it, and they won't put you 'on the spot' when they ask.

You can even write down some notes of things you would like to bring up or would like for them to know about.

If you are bringing someone to the appointment, it could be helpful to try to talk to them about these notes/thoughts beforehand. That way, if you freeze up, they can help to share what you had thought about, and this could also help to prompt you at the appointment.

Best of luck with it! I hope that they are respectful and that they will help you feel better!

[the-idea]

tracking down data on personality disorders in schizophrenia

From article on personality disorders in first-episode psychosis (from an early intervention program in Scandinavia):

Schizoid (38%), avoidant (34%) and paranoid (28%) personality disorders were the most common personality disorders in the semi-structured inter-view. The MCMI-II personality disorder (BR >84) most prominent profiles showed 12 avoidant (38%) and nine schizoid (28%) personality disorders. Slightly less prevalent were the seven borderline (22%) and the six schizotypal (19%) disorders. The paranoid was rare (3%).

The main findings of this study are that half of the TIPS patients with schizophrenia met the criteria for two or more personality disorders, while one-third had no personality disorder. Schizoid and avoidant personality disorders were found to be the most frequent personality disorders present among first-onset psychotic patients when using both semi-structured and self-report instruments. The MCMI schizotypal and avoidant personality dimensions were associated with increasing social difficulties from childhood to adolescence, and the MCMI schizotypal personality dimension was associated with poorer childhood academic level.

From an article about ipseity disturbance in BPD:

The data support the hypothesis that disturbance of the basic sense of self is not associated with borderline personality pathology in a UHR sample. This is consistent with the notion that basic self-disturbance indicates specific vulnerability to schizophrenia spectrum pathology and that self-disturbance in BPD is of a different type. This points towards the complexity of the construct of ‘the self’. The distinction between different types of self-disturbance (i.e. disturbances of different levels of selfhood) needs to be recognized and carefully assessed in clinical and research contexts. An example of this is the issue of dissociative experience. In BPD, dissociative experiences commonly occur in a transient fashion in response to stress, that is, as a means of coping with immediate stressors. In contrast, the dissociation associated with the basic self-disturbance seen in schizophrenia spectrum conditions involves a more pervasive distancing from and observation of immediate experience (and concomitant lack of first-person perspective or ‘ownership’ of experience). Similarly, the sense of ‘emptiness’ of the self evident in BPD derives from the lack of a coherent and continuous identity, whereas the ‘emptiness’ in basic self-disturbance can stem from lack of immersion in or engagement with immediate experience (disturbed ‘presence’, as captured in Stanghellini’s terms ‘disembodied spirit’ and ‘deanimated body’) or from the sense of a more fundamental existential difference from others (see section 2.1 of the EASE).

A study of psychotic symptoms in BPD:

We excluded BPD patients who had a preexisting clinical diagnosis of nonaffective psychosis. Three patients in our sample could nevertheless have been considered to have met DSM-IV criteria for schizophrenia (10% of all 30 cases interviewed). This is in line with a previous study of 111 patients with BPD, in which 19 (17%) met DSM criteria for schizophrenia (Kingdon et al., 2010). Individuals with schizophrenia and comorbid BPD have been reported to have poorer long-term outcome (Bahorik and Eack, 2010).

Despite looking for studies on personality in schizophrenia, it's a lot easier to find studies that go the other way around (and given the priorities in research in general, most of those were BPD)

#szpd #avpd #ppd #stpd #schizophrenia