#EPATH

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Jo Bartosch

Published: May 3, 2023

Twenty years ago, after one too many beers, I met some pagans in a pub in Gloucestershire. They invited me to travel with them to Ireland the next morning on a spiritual pilgrimage. I expected a mystical experience, but I remained unmoved. On returning to Ireland last week to attend two rival conferences on how best to help people distressed about their gender, I realised that my scepticism is still intact – and that mad beliefs about magic have spread far beyond damp hippies.

The two conferences were very different. The larger, more established conference was organised by the European Professional Association for Transgender Health (EPATH), which claims to promote the ‘mental, physical and social health of transgender people in Europe’. The other conference was organised by a relative upstart called Genspect. Founded in 2021, Genspect is an international organisation that aims to ‘promote high-quality, evidence-based care for gender-nonconforming individuals all around the world’.

In a press release from March, Genspect’s director, psychotherapist Stella O’Malley, summed up the difference between the two organisations’ approaches when dealing with those experiencing gender distress: ‘The EPATH programme promotes heavy medical interventions while Genspect favours the least-invasive approach first.’ Genspect, explained O’Malley, aims to ‘crack open EPATH’s mono-focus on medicalised modes of treatment’.

The Genspect conference set out to challenge both the magical thinking of trans ideology and the medicalisation of childhood distress that this has led to. This was reflected by the presence of around a dozen ‘detransitioners’ among the delegates – that is, people who regret transitioning and want to revert to their original gender. These detransitioners, who were predominantly under 30, are now living with the consequences of taking hormones and having their healthy body parts amputated. In time, they might recover their mental health. But in many cases the harm done to their bodies will be permanent.

Michael Biggs, an associate professor in sociology at the University of Oxford, has long been investigating the effect of puberty-blocking drugs on sexual maturation. Presenting his findings at the Genspect conference, Biggs revealed that patients who have suppressed their puberty as children before surgical transition may never be able to orgasm as adults.

Speaking after the conference, Biggs told me that there is a wilful lack of published research on the long-term effects of taking puberty blockers. He said that ‘puberty blockers have been used in the Netherlands for over three decades, and yet the long-term effects are known for only one person’. By the age of 35, that ‘one person was depressed and ashamed of their genitals’.

Biggs also revealed that where research has been carried out into puberty blockers there have been attempts to suppress it. The NHS’s Gender Identity Development Service (GIDS) at London’s Tavistock clinic, which is due to be closed down later this year, began a study of 44 children aged between 12 and 15 in 2011. But GIDS director Dr Polly Carmichael effectively kept the results of this trial to herself. The findings remained unpublished until they were discovered and first analysed by Biggs in 2018. ‘It required a complaint to the Health Research Authority, questions in parliament, and a judicial review’, Biggs tells me, ‘before Dr Carmichael finally published the full results’.

Most disturbingly, Biggs told me of the awful fate of one healthy Dutch teenager. After having his puberty blocked as a child, the teenager underwent a vaginoplasty aged 18. The complicated procedure involved taking tissue from his bowel to create a replica vagina and vulva. Within 24 hours of having surgery, he had died in hospital of necrotising fasciitis.

Predictably, EPATH’s conference featured no such criticism of these surgical or medical interventions. Far from it. The conference was even spon.sored by a company offering facial-feminisation surgery, and from the off EPATH went on the offensive. In the opening address, the organisation’s outgoing president, Joz Motmans, attacked ‘anti-gender and anti-trans voices, legislation, policies and movements’. Motmans even claimed that the growing public scepticism towards trans ideology was driven by ‘far-right parties’. ‘We respect everyone’s freedom of speech’, he said, ‘but we choose not to listen to it’.

In the interests of actual free speech and debate, EPATH attendees were told that they would be permitted access to Genspect with their EPATH ticket. This gesture was not reciprocated. Indeed, EPATH has even blocked Genspect from its Twitter account.

Whether or not EPATH chooses to listen, the debate over how best to treat patients with gender distress is gaining momentum across Europe. Last year’s announcement that the Tavistock clinic would be shut down, on the grounds its model of care is ‘not safe’ for children, has sent shockwaves across the continent. Medical bodies are now sounding the alarm in Sweden, France and most recently Norway. More and more clinical professionals are coming out to ask for the evidence that mental distress can be successfully treated by ‘gender-affirming’ medical interventions.

Last week in Ireland, the authority of EPATH’s gender priests took a battering. They showed themselves to be unwilling and perhaps even incapable of engaging with those who hold opposing views. More damning still, they refused to engage with the evidence.

Trans ideology is now being exposed for the magical thinking it always was. Its adherents are doing real harm.

==

Telling people to get a facelift or a boob-job when they're depressed or anxious used to be regarded as unethical.

Now it's a moral imperative.

[there-are-4-lights]

i saw the transkriget documentary and i didnt like it

the episodes were so short so it mostly felt like watching a clipshow compilation and not an actual documentary? they scratched the surface of a few important aspects (clinicians with criticisms, the influence of RFSL on healthcare, things like LGBTQ-certification, etc) but it was really hard to know what the viewer is supposed to take away from it.

if you compare it to something like UG where there were some clear take-home messages like "the hospital intentionally minimised harm being done to children" or "healthcare was ideologically driven"; it was really hard to pick out a message from this other than "its really complicated so we should slow down" i guess? and with the material they had they could have done something like "lobby groups were too close to the government and also influenced healthcare" like Nolan Investigates Stonewall did.

[feralthembo]

Oh you have hyperempathy? Can you empathize with someone who cannot comprehend someone empathizing with them or are you just projecting your needs and desires onto the ppl around you.

[nytehavyn-circle]

(Closed starter for @lives-by-moonlight - for Brie)

Tolaas hadn't been to a casino in years. He had money, it wasn't like he needed more. But he missed playing poker. Unlike a lotta guys, he didn't have a poker night or anything as such.

So, tonight, he decided he wanted to play poker. Maybe some slots. Definitely some 21.

There was a casino he heard about: The Moonlight Casino. He'd never been there, and he didn't know if it was new or if it had been around awhile.

He got dressed up, well, as dressed up as Tolaas ever got: He changed his demin button up shirt to a black, western-style button up shirt. He changed into black, pressed jeans. He'd trimmed his facial hair down to a five o'clock shadow, and put on some Old Spice. It lightly burned his skin, and he pursed his lips and blew a bit. A bolo tie went under the color of his shirt, and then he put on his black duster. And just like his brown one, it had several pockets that held whatever he put in them. Last to be put on was his black Stetson.

He took one final look in the mirror, adjusted himself, turned to one side and then the other, nodded, and exited the doors to his villa. As he headed to the elevator, he called down to the concierge. "Yeah, this is Tolaas. Can ya getta car fer me waitin' outside? I think I'm goin' out fer a while."

He hung up, put his phone away, and pressed the elevator call button. soon enough it dinged, and he stepped inside. A moment later, he was headed down to the lobby. Once more, the elevator dinged, and he stepped out. He moved through the marble lobby, waving at the concierge, and headed outside. The black stretch limo was waiting for him.

The driver was there by the side of the car, and opened the door for him. "Thanks. Uh, I'm goin' ta that casino, The Moonlight Casino...?" The driver nodded. "I know where it is," he told Tolaas before getting into the driver's seat. In a moment, they were off.

It took a bit, but they finally arrived at the casino. "Stick 'round, Ed," he said to the driver. "Keep yer earpiece in, in case I need ya." He reached across the divider and handed Ed a wad of folded money. "See ya in the casino!" And with that, he climbed out of the limo and eyes the casino's exterior. "Not bad," he said, impressed.

Into the casino he went, and grinned once he got inside. He looked around, grin on his lips. Despite the noises from the slot machines, the keno lady walking around, the craps table, and the music coming from somewhere (was this a club, too? Where was the club area? he thought), he was very pleasantly surprised with the casino and he hadn't even moved from the front doors, yet.

Adjusting his Stetson, he immediately went lookig for the bar and found it. "Niiice," he said to himself and made his way to a barstool. He asked the bartender for a whiskey - Jack - on the rocks, and paid them to leave the bottle.

He took aa drink from his glass, and turned on his still to look out toward the casino. Immediately he started checking auras, watching them spike and level out, watching the colors change and ebb and flow.

He sent epathic feelers out to a general area, and felt sadness, anger, worry, but also happiness and joy. Just how a casino should be.

He took another drink from his glass, leaned back, and then spotted a woman - a very beautiful woman - walking by. "Damn," he whispered just a little too loudly. He tilted his head to watch her walk, then decided to move his eyes to somewhere else, lest she turned and caught him staring. Last thing he wanted to come across as was a creep. But he couldn't help but glance at her again.

[zwoelffarben]

How to explain this?

Were you ever as a child forced to eat brussel sprouts? Did your parents ever sit you down at the dinner table for four hours as you and your siblings stared down a big plate of brussel sprouts because weren't allowed to leave the table until the plate was empty, but you couldn't eat them because the smell of putting a brussel sprout to your nose made you gag, so you held your breath and then the bittersome taste of putting a brussel sprout on your tongue and chewing made you want to wretch further yet; so, you and your siblings sat there in miserable silence for four hours waiting for your parents to leave the room so you could sneak the brussel sprouts into the trash and be hungry but done wit the ordeal; And now, despite the fact your taste buds changed and the smell and taste of brussel sprouts no longer make you directly gag as a sensory reflex whenever you experience them, you think back to how you felt in those moments and gag epathically wit the memory of your past self? Even other vegetables prepared in the same way as those old brussel sprouts invoke in you that same reaction?

Has that specific thing ever happened to you?

I've always considered myself an angry person. Angry at what specifically didn't matter: I've always been quick to anger, and I've had to learn to temper it, to control it.

In college, I was asigned to read Assata, the autobiography of a Black woman activist living through the civil rights movement in 1960s. When I tried to read it, my throat closed up in anger. Here was a woman who had been so flagrantly abused by white people acting out white power, I got so angry on her behalf that I shook with fury, tensing up until I found could not breith. I did not finish reading Assata and believe me I tried. But, what people did to Assata Shakur made me too angry on her behalf to function.

So, no: I haven't formed my opinion about hogwarts legacy based on directly observing the text either through playing it myself or watching someone else play it; because, the antisemitic tropes in the francise would rapidly lead me by association to every bad thing that's ever been done to Jewish people and justified by those tropes, and I'd rapidly find myself back at a level of anger I never wanted to feel and never want to feel again, unable to breith.

I've no interest in a text that'd take my breath away (derogatory) any oxygen. hogwarts legacy simply smells like brussel sprouts.

[fe-fictions]

Yahoo! We’ve got a baby train going again! Can we please get a fic of Basilio?

(I missed this big lug so much ;;; ____ ;;; )

Flavia had been teasing Basilio for months about how much of a worrywart he’d become. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his wife, whom he was three heads taller than, had really started to feel the effects of pregnancy.

From the seventh month of your pregnancy, you’d adopted “the waddle”, seeing as it had gotten increasingly difficult to walk about with a healthy baby that just kept growing.

You’d also started to become more averse to food and drink you used to adore, which had perhaps been the most frightening thing to change. It was very touch and go, trying to figure out what you’d want to eat (or what you could and couldn’t) each day. Then came the mood swings, the random bouts of illness, and the aches and pains that came with the changes to your body.

Basilio had gone from cheery and energetic to fretting far more often than not; long sighs replaced his laughter, and his days of training were typically replaced with doting on you by staying at your side, for fear of you being hurt or needing his help.

But now he was at the peak of worry. You’d gone into labor about two hours past midnight, all during a blizzard swirling around Ferox, no less. Basilio had burst out of the bedroom with his poor wife in his arms, carrying you straight to the medical wing of the castle while shouting that the queen was in labor.

You handled the labor like a champ, but it was quite clear that you were in terrible pain. Basilio could see as much when he was in the room with you. You’d taken his hand into yours in a death grip, and you were struggling with the contractions as any mother-to-be would.

“You’re doin’ great, sweetheart-” Basilio tried to comfort you, though he could only do so much from the sidelines besides riding out the waves of pain with you. “You’re doin’ just fine!”

“Lord Khan, we need more ice water.” The midwife told him before you could so much as eek out a response behind clenched teeth. Basilio looked up at her, troubled.

“You mean I’ve gotta go get it? Can’t you send anybody else?”

“We’re still waiting on help from the capital- the snow and the time of day has made it difficult for the clerics to come. We’re spread thin as-is…”

“I get it,” He sighed, looking back at you. You were able to look up at him, though it was clear you weren’t doing well. You were frightened, and you were in pain. “I’ll be right back.”

“You h-have to go?” You held his hand a little tighter. He managed something akin to a tight smile, though even you could tell in your haze that he wasn’t aching to go.

“They’re tryin’ to get the other clerics in from the storm. ‘Til they do, I’ve gotta be the errand boy. I’ll be quick, all right? I’ll be back before you know it.”

You were able to nod, but another contraction racked your body before you could give your blessing. He stayed long enough to help you through it, before he had to peel himself away to get the necessary supplies.

Basilio grabbed two large buckets from the clerics, heading out the doors with a very troubled expression on his face. Flavia was waiting outside, Lon’qu and Lissa both in attendance as well.

“Careful- you keep worrying and you’ll lose your beard hair too.” She grinned at him, though his ashen face was far from amused. Her smile faltered some, “That bad, huh?”

“We’re shorthanded,” He explained, holding up the buckets, “They’ve got me running errands when I need to be with Robin. She’s in a lot of pain.”

“That’s not abnormal,” Flavia tilted her head, “She’s going through childbirth; it’s the greatest struggle a woman can go through. If it makes you feel any better, I did send some mages and castle staff to help clear th epath for the clerics. We’re working to get them here as fast as we can.”

“Do you think they’d let me in to help?” Lissa asked worriedly, though Lon’qu was the first to shake his head.

“You’re kind to offer, Princess, but I’m afraid Feroxi and Ylissean methods of childbirth vary quite a bit. It’s more likely the midwife would see you as an obstacle rather than helpful. It might be better if you two can get down there and see if you can help with getting the clerics through.”

“All right…if it’ll help Robin, then I’ll do whatever you need me to! Let’s go, Lon’qu.” Lissa hurried down the corridor, her Myrmidon matching her pace. Basilio glanced back at Flavia, who gestured they head the opposite direction to fulfill his own mission.

It was strange seeing the boisterous ruler so uncharacteristically quiet and anxious. He had been so excited for the baby, but now he seemed frightened that anything could go wrong.

Sensing this, Flavia clapped a hand on his shoulder while they waited in the kitchens for the buckets to be refilled.

“Enough of the long face, oaf. You’re going to frighten the staff away.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can you really blame me for being anxious? It looks like hell, what Robin’s goin’ through. And it doesn’t help she’s gotta do it in the middle of a winter storm- it’s like the gods looked at her and decided Morgan’s birth was gonna be the hardest possible day of her life. And I can’t do a thing about it, y’know?”

“You can be there for her, and assist with the delivery like you are now.” She pointed out, “What matters is that you’re there. Besides, the midwife hasn’t given any indication that it’s going poorly. If anything, it’s just a matter of waiting for the delivery to start.”

“You’re saying it’s supposed to look like she’s on the verge of death the entire time?”

“Every birth I ever assisted with in my village was just like that. Except the mothers didn’t have access to the best medical staff in the whole of the kingdom.” She pointed out, giving him a strong pat on the back. “So chin up, Khan- you’re only going to stress your wife out more if you look as freaked out as she does!”

“I’m sure it hasn’t helped, huh?” He agreed, sighing again. He straightened up, taking the buckets back now that they were filled with icy water. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling given the biting chill outside, but he didn’t dare question it. If you needed ice water, you were absolutely going to get it.

The pair were about halfway back before they spotted a maid rushing towards them both, looking quite frantic.

“Milord!! The queen’s ready to push!”

“Already?!”

“It’s noon, Basilio- at least ten hours have gone by.” She rolled her eyes, “Hurry back- I’ll take these and catch up!”

The Khan wasted absolutely no time, breaking into a sprint the second the pails of water were out of his hands. It was finally happening- you were moments away from the end of the journey.

It wasn’t much longer before he was back where they started, pushing through the heavy doors to find that he was not only in the throes of your delivery starting, but that Lissa was inside and at your bedside, coaching you through the pushing.

The delivery had already begun.

“Robin, I’m back! I’m here!!” Basilio said over the chaos of the midwife and clerics, taking Lissa’s place with a quick nod of thanks.

“The path is cleared- Lon’qu’s guiding them back, so they’ll be here in no time to come help Robin! I came back early to see if I could help.” Lissa explained quickly, an exhilarated smile on her face. “She’s doing great, Basilio! Morgan’s almost here!”

“Right,” He smiled back at her, before returning his full attention to his wife. You were staring at him with a notable spark of fear in your eyes, which he did wish he could wipe away.

“Y’hear that, Robin? We’re gettin’ close to the end of the road. Just a few pushes and we’ll have Morgan here, at last!”

“Y-yeah, I heard, I-I just…I don’t know if I can do it.” Your voice was strained and weak, but thick enough with fear that it alarmed Basilio.

“What’re you talkin’ about? We’re already this far in! Just a little bit more and we’re gonna be a whole family!”

“I-I’m just really…I’m tired, and i-it hurts so much, and I-I don’t think I can do it-”

“Hey, now.” He clasped your hand in both of his, kissing your fingers sweetly, “Don’t you worry about all that. If anybody can do this, you can! You absolutely can!”

You swallowed, absolutely beaten down by the circumstances. But nobody wanted Morgan more than you. Basilio was a close second, but he didn’t hold a candle.

So with a swift nod, you grabbed hold of Basilio and started pushing for all you were worth.

Basilio had never heard you cry out like he did that day. Your grip grew so tight that you ended up causing a hairline fracture in three different bones in his hand.

There were so many tears, so many curses (mostly spat at him), and encouragement that he was sure fell on deaf ears. But you still pushed on. The clerics finally broke through the weather and ran into the room, Lon’qu leading the charge for them to get to the queen.

It would be a full fifteen minutes of pushing before Morgan finally made it out, but the exact moment you heard your baby’s cry pierce the air…it was over.

“Robin…oh my gods, Robin!” Basilio gasped, his attention blinking between his absolutely exhausted wife and his very angry newborn son.

“It’s a boy!” The midwife announced, to cheers from Lissa, Basilio and the rest of the staff (you gave a wobbly smile). Though to be fair, that was wholly expected.

The Khan leaned down, wrapping his arms around you and peppering kisses into your hair.

“You did it! Just like I said you would, huh?” He said between pecks, making you giggle. He started to stroke your cheek, but found that moving his fingers caused a shock of immense pain to shoot through it.

“You…you good?” You breathed, and he retracted, realizing that there were some dark bruises showing almost exactly where you’d been gripping him.

“Who, me? Don’t you worry about me! You just had a baby! I’ll have Lissa take a look at my hand- I’m sure it’s nothin’.” He reassured you, “Just rest a second. I’ll be right back.”

He turned to said princess, who had quickly come to his side when he first mentioned her name. She bit back a laugh, taking out a Heal staff to address his wounds.

“Yeah, she broke your fingers.”

His face blanched.

“You’re jokin’, right?”

“Nope- pregnancy strength is no joke! I’m more surprised she didn’t break more of your hand.” She was grinning from ear to ear while she helped him off to the side. While they worked, you were carefully tended and cleaned up, given a fresh change of clothes and had your bedding replaced so that you could rest far more comfortably now that the worst was over.

Basilio watched over you the entire time, ready to jump into action with half a hand if necessary. Thankfully you were returned to your peace, and Morgan’s wails had quieted once he was bundled up nice and warm, on his way to his mother’s arms.

By the time the Khan’s healing was finished, he found that you were sitting upright, gently bouncing a very tiny bunch of blankets that no doubt was occupied by a handsome young fellow.

“Congratulations,” Lissa whispered to him, ushering him to your side before escaping the delivery room with the rest of the quieted clerics.

The chaos was finally over. Now, it was just the two of you, alone in bed with a squeaky, squirmy baby.

“Robin?” Basilio called to you carefully, walking back to the bedside. You turned to him, the smile he’d missed for months finally back on your lips.

“How’s your hand?”

“All better,” He replied, nervously glancing at the package in your arms. “You two, uh…how are you guys doing?”

“We’re fine…just fine.” You returned your attention to your little one, tilting your arm just slightly so Basilio could get a good look at him. He leaned forward in his seat, practically halfway onto the bed when he was able to spot that little face.

He was crinkling his nose and his brow furrowed, but every time you touched his cheek or cooed his name, Morgan would calm, and his expression would ease.

“Well, well, well…would you look at that.” Basilio was all but glowing. His hand settled over the blankets, feeling the teeny warmth that a newborn seemed to radiate. “Morgan’s just as handsome as I thought he’d be.”

“I think he’s even more so.” You remarked, making him chuckle.

“He’s gonna be a hell of a looker, that’s for sure. No doubt he’ll be whip smart, too…think he could be even smarter than his future version?”

“Are you trying to pit our sons against each other before one of them can even sit up?” You laughed at his musings, to which he shrugged.

“I didn’t say that! I just thought, y’know, since it’s a different timeline and all…I wonder how different this Morgan’ll be.”

“I doubt they’ll be too different. I’m sure he’ll be just as sweet, smart and strong as his older brother.”

“No doubt about it.” Basilio hummed in agreement, “...Though hopefully this one’ll hit a growth spurt. It’s no fun bein’ the only tall one in the family!”

“Just for that, I hope he’s shorter than me.”

“Don’t do that to him!” Basilio gasped, “He’s gotta be a giant like his old man, you hear me?”

“I mean, I do, but I don’t have any control over that.”

“We’ll just see about that.”

“...What are you planning to do to our barely-half-an-hour old son?”

“Nothin’...yet.” You shook your head, flicking Basilio’s forehead to put a proper stop to his antics. The pair of you dissolved into laughter, and the rest of your snowy afternoon was spent cuddling Morgan, taking turns holding the itty bitty baby and plotting out the hopeful future you looked forward to as a lovely new family.

[rozxartaki]

Esy na mas peis ti epathes kai tosa reblogs

Glykia h pswlh tou geroy?

Λετζιτ κανω σπαμ σε όλους αγάπη, δε ξέρω γιατί εδώ και τόσες μέρες έχεις φάει σκάλωμα. Ζηλεύεις κάτι;

[romios-gr]

ΒΙΝΤΕΟ: Ο ψύχραιμος 13χρονος που έσωσε τελευταία στιγμή λεωφορείο ενώ ο οδηγός έπαθε «ξαφνικίτιδα» Δείτε: Συνέβη πέρυσι: This is the moment 13 year old Dillon Reeves, steered a full bus to safety when the driver became unwell and bus veered out of its lane pic.twitter.com/UVtaw2pJeQ — Science girl (@gunsnrosesgirl3) May 26, 2024 πηγή »»»»»»  ΤΟ ΒΡΗΚΑΜΕ ΕΔΩ  «««««« Περισσότερα εδώ: https://romios.gr/vinteo-o-psychraimos-13chronos-poy-esose-teleytaia-stigmi-leoforeio-eno-o-odigos-epathe-xafnikitida/

[eclecticstarlightblogger]

Γιατί έπαθε αφωνία ο Νίκος Ευαγγελατος με καλεσμένη την Σοφια Μπεκατωρου

Ο Ευαγγελάτος μενει άφωνος σε live μετάδοση που η Σοφία Μπεκατώρου αποφάσισε να συστρατευθεί με τον ΣΥΡΙΖΑ και τον Στέφανο Κασσελάκη. Γιατί έπαθε αφωνία ο Νίκος Ευαγγελατος με καλεσμένη την Σοφια Μπεκατωρου – olympia source https://www.olympia.gr/1586291/viral/giati-epathe-afonia-o-nikos-eyaggelatos-me-kalesmeni-tin-sofia-mpekatoroy/

[thoughtfullyblogger]

Γιατί έπαθε αφωνία ο Νίκος Ευαγγελατος με καλεσμένη την Σοφια Μπεκατωρου

Ο Ευαγγελάτος μενει άφωνος σε live μετάδοση που η Σοφία Μπεκατώρου αποφάσισε να συστρατευθεί με τον ΣΥΡΙΖΑ και τον Στέφανο Κασσελάκη. Γιατί έπαθε αφωνία ο Νίκος Ευαγγελατος με καλεσμένη την Σοφια Μπεκατωρου – olympia source https://www.olympia.gr/1586291/viral/giati-epathe-afonia-o-nikos-eyaggelatos-me-kalesmeni-tin-sofia-mpekatoroy/

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

[ Source: EPATH Conference 2019. ]

Apparently being a regular teenager is a disorder requiring medical treatment and the removal of body parts. Not only are you "trans" if you don't fit a 1950s Barbie/G.I. Joe stereotype, you're "trans" if you don't fit a 1950s "golly, gee" soda shoppe "Leave It To Beaver" stereotype.

This is the same tactic psychics use to tell you your fortune, and astrologers use to convince you that distant stars reflect your personality. It's called the Forer Effect, or Barnum Effect.

To really drive home the cult programming, any time you're feeling better, that's how you know you've gotten worse.

For political and ideological reasons - for example, one presenter actually claims that children are being "misdiagnosed" as autistic when they're actually trans - they've flipped the symptom and the cause.

This is more accurate:

[greekblogs]

Γιατί έπαθε αφωνία ο Νίκος Ευαγγελατος με καλεσμένη την Σοφια Μπεκατωρου

Ο Ευαγγελάτος μενει άφωνος σε live μετάδοση που η Σοφία Μπεκατώρου αποφάσισε να συστρατευθεί με τον ΣΥΡΙΖΑ και τον Στέφανο Κασσελάκη. Γιατί έπαθε αφωνία ο Νίκος Ευαγγελατος με καλεσμένη την Σοφια Μπεκατωρου – olympia source https://www.olympia.gr/1586291/viral/giati-epathe-afonia-o-nikos-eyaggelatos-me-kalesmeni-tin-sofia-mpekatoroy/

[skandaladiaplokidiafthora]

Γιατί έπαθε αφωνία ο Νίκος Ευαγγελατος με καλεσμένη την Σοφια Μπεκατωρου

Ο Ευαγγελάτος μενει άφωνος σε live μετάδοση που η Σοφία Μπεκατώρου αποφάσισε να συστρατευθεί με τον ΣΥΡΙΖΑ και τον Στέφανο Κασσελάκη. Γιατί έπαθε αφωνία ο Νίκος Ευαγγελατος με καλεσμένη την Σοφια Μπεκατωρου – olympia source https://www.olympia.gr/1586291/viral/giati-epathe-afonia-o-nikos-eyaggelatos-me-kalesmeni-tin-sofia-mpekatoroy/

[katharaeironiko]

mlk thomais twra esy ti epathes

[andrewtheprophet]

Sexual Assault Inside the Holy City: Revelation 11 https://andrewtheprophetcom.wordpress.com/2024/02/26/sexual-assault-inside-the-holy-city-revelation-11/

[healthylifesthings]

Τι είναι η χολόσταση στην εγκυμοσύνη που έπαθε η Μαρκέλλα Γιαννάτου https://health.rodos-island.gr/ti-einai-i-cholostasi-stin-egkymosyni-pou-epathe-i-markella-giannatou/