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Exercise is great for helping manage Depression. Medication and a doctor are essential.

I really need people who don’t know shit about living with mental illness to stop talking about it, because they’re hurting those of us who live with Depression and other forms of mental illness.

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I’m reading up on chocolate frog cards in the Harry Potter universe, for reasons, and-

“Came up with the ever changing floor plan.” 

Really, Ravenclaw? Really?

“You know what this school needs? To not make any sense-”

“Rowena, I don’t think-”

“Exactly, you don’t think. I’m brilliant and this is perfect. Moving staircases, walls that think they’re doors-”

“But how will the students get to class?”

“They’ll have to figure it out.”

“…”

“Everyday. They will figure it out everyday. My students will live in a tower and navigate these stairs every time.”

“The stairs move! This doesn’t seem safe…I think I’ll put my common room in the basement, Rowena.”

“Ditto. I think the dungeons would be safer…”

“…My kids will brave these stairs. I’ll take the other tower.”

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Do this four times repeatedly and you’ll be out. But how does it work? There’s some real brain science behind it.

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wheres that story about the D&D guy who plays as a bear and has really good disguises and no one knows its a bear and he becomes king and everyone falls for it except one person who rolls for perception and he goes THATS A FUCKING BEAR and gets kicked out of the kingdom

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Me and my mutual followers that never seem to actually talk but we like and reblog each other’s posts:

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I’m not sure whether I should laugh or cry.

Is OP aware that oh so many books exist on this subject?

And that almost universally the ones authored by people with doctorates in classicism and mythology disagree with OP?

Including the… epic hymn that first told this story? You know what’s in that original source material… right?

Abducted, yes. Demeter mourned? Definitely. Rape, no.

So here’s some info on Ancient Greek wedding traditions which (oh my stars and garters!!) included abducting the bride. With the father’s permission, which Hades got before he took her away.

Here’s a whole book on the subject of Ancient Greek wedding custom and its conflation with funeral rites. (Which sounds a bit like Hades and Persephone to anyone who’s ever dabbled in things like explication and context)

Here’s a link to another book that talks about Persephone’s rise to power as a result of her willingly eating the pomegranate seeds.

Oh shit!!

Here’s a whole bunch of myths and hymns that talk about her Queen of the Underworld badassery!!

Holy pug tacos Batman!!

Here’s another book about the myth focusing on the seasonal religious and liminal rites. WHICH TAKE PLACE IN THE DRY SUMMER (not the fucking winter), which you know if you read a book.Way to go, OP!

All these fucking books!  What could anyone possibly do with them all?!?!?!?! Do you eat books to absorb their powers instead of read them?

A better guess would be that you got into a moral panic over the name of a certain Renaissance statue and maybe after reading three pages of Edith Hamilton or the first paragraph of a Wikipedia article. And then used that to castigate and demean not only the people who actually take their limited time to create gorgeous art but also to denigrate modern day worshippers of Persephone and Hades?

Maybe next time, you stringy piece of over-boiled okra, you might want to take your own advice and pick up a book, instead of reducing the feared and respected Queen of the Underworld who held power equal to or in many interpretations GREATER than her husband into a meaningless pastiche of female disenfranchisement that you seemingly plucked from your own ass.

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these are both still male dominated like……….this is wrong this is not more women than men look its plain and simple wtf

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Another Story From Mom...

When my mom was in high school, she wasn’t popular or anything. Anyways.

So a group of kids decided they wanted to go ice skating but they couldn’t get a ride, so these kids told my mom that if she could get them all a ride to the skating rink, she could come too.

Well she asked her dad, and he said that they could go and they piled all these kids into the car and they headed off to the skating rink and my mom was telling my grandpa how he didn’t have to wait around for them to be done and that the session was over in about three hours or so.

But nah

He was just: “Actually, I think I’ll try skating, I should really try to learn.”

So my mom was horrified, her dad was going to be trying to learn how to ice skate and embarrass her in front of everyone. The guys thought it was funny to get to see an old man fall on his ass all night so they were all for it.

Well my mom and a couple other girls didn’t terribly know how to skate either so they edged around the side of the rink and my grandpa was right with them, inching along.

Well one of the guys thought it would be funny to slide toward the girls and kick ice up at them and my grandpa told him that wasn’t an approrpiate way to treat the girls and told him to stop it.

Little bastard said something flippant my mom can’t remember but she summarized it as essentially being ‘kiss my ass’ and skated off.

My grandpa looked at my mom and the rest of the girls, and told them to never, ever let anybody, let alone boys treat them like that and like that he was GONE.

See

thing my mom and none of these kids knew was that my grandpa knew how to ice skate, actually. The man was the star player on his highschool hockey team.

He skated right up to the boy and stopped abruptly, which ended up causing the boy to fall on his ass and told him to never, ever treat anyone like that ever again, and had him go over and apologize to my mom and the other girls for his horrible behavior. Of course he then spent the rest of the evening skating backwards and sideways and doing fancy maneuvering around the rink, as the jig was up.

But later, my mom realized that he stayed at the rink and pretended he couldn’t skate because he didn’t trust the other kids to behave themselves and wanted to be there to protect his daughter. So he spent all that time barely inching along, wobbling and pretending to struggle so he could stay with my mom and make sure she was going to be treated alright by the popular kids.

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It begins. David Tennant is Crowley. Michael Sheen is Aziraphale. They are amazing. #GoodOmens

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Deserted but not Alone.

It was one of those shifts. One that dragged on and on and was mostly spent with the nurses huddled together at the station, giggling over something ridiculous a patient said.  It was low-key and low drama.  Perfect for seasoned nurses; a real bore for new ones.   Our manager, a gem of a lady, came through handing out shots of expresso to boost us.

We were all laughing and having fun when my charge nurse said quietly, “ Do you think we could move this group into bed 7?”  

I looked at her surprised.

“How come?” I questioned immediately.  Her response was equally quick.

“He was just made comfort measures, they are starting morphine … and he has no family here or that’s coming.”  

We all immediately stopped lounging and got up.  Our orientees dogging our steps, we filed into the room.  All 9 of us on the floor.  We took turns murmuring our hellos or simply squeezing his hand.  He peered at us and nodded.  He had been on our unit for a few weeks and we had all, at some point, encountered him.  He was simply adorable.  His wife had severe dementia and didn’t know him anymore.  His only son was estranged.  His neighbors had already said their goodbyes.  

One of the nurses who had him the most leaned over to him and said quietly in his ear.

“Your wife is ok.  She will be taken care of…” she paused and squeezed his hand, “You’re with friends now, ok?”  

He opened his eyes and looked around glassy eyed as his oxygen levels dropped.  9 figures in blue surrounded him.  He nodded briefly and closed his blue eyes.

“My friends.” He repeated to himself over and over.

Tears clouded every eye in the room and the ones closest laid a hand on him as we watched silently as the color drifted from his cheeks.

The new nurses looked around nervously as death came into the room.  The rest of us were stoic with shimmers of tears threatening to spill over as we watched the last bit of life drain from his face.

I stepped back and discreetly surveyed the room.  All eyes were either looking down or at him.  Bittersweet smiles on their faces as they knew he was at peace.  9 nurses, side by side, grieved for this man whose family was unable to do so.   It was in that moment that I could see how lost the hospital would be without nurses, how sterile and heartless it would become.   I stood with 9 of my coworkers who work short staffed constantly and nearly half have been hit or bitten since I have worked with them.  They are degraded, ignored and yelled at by patients, families and staff… and yet they are the most humane, sincere group I have ever known.

This patient died without family.

But he did not die alone.

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i can’t believe friday, september 1, 2017, is nineteen years later. the last scene in the harry potter books.

this is it.

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this gone hurt somebody feefees lol

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What I want to say when a disease is idiopathic

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Doctor I’m going to need you to chill…

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When your dad joke game is too strong

The rest of my Star Wars stuff is here