#I want to make more money because that would solve a few depression related problems

[kelpeigh]

The need to get a better job that pays a livable wage

versus

The instant tailspin into cataclysmic despair into which I’m thrown upon merely opening job listing sites

[mhsargent]

Adventures in Brain Surgery

July 2, 2024

Greetings to all our Friends and Family,

Some of this will be news for some of you, and some of this will be repeat information for some others. Thank you all in advance for taking the time to read.

On Monday, June 24th, 2024, a sizable brain tumor was discovered in Carol Anne’s frontal lobe.  It was removed on Thursday, June 27th. I thought I would try to share the basics of the story of how we got here with all of you.  I know there are some of you in our lives that have not heard all the news yet, so we wanted to share the story with everyone on social media.  This way we can continue to share with everyone what we can expect over the next weeks and months of Carol Anne’s recovery as we discover it ourselves.

For the past 6 to 8 months, Carol Anne has been complaining about not feeling like herself, although that feeling has been creeping up on her for much longer than that. As we take the time to reflect on the impact this unknown tumor has been having on Carol Anne, we are becoming aware that she has probably been affected for at least 18 months, if not longer.  

We started to become aware that something unusual was happening to Carol Anne at least 8 weeks ago, but it was hard to identify exactly what. Historically, Carol Anne has struggled with mental health issues around depression.  Indeed, this has been a primary diagnosis for her for more than 10 years.  As a result, both Carol Anne and I were attributing her recent struggles with her confidence, her mood, and her choices to her mental health struggles  

As a number of these symptoms increased in severity, her behaviour was increasingly uncharacteristic.  Because this had been relatively gradual, we were still working on the assumption that this was mental health related, combined with the effects of perimenopause/menopause.  Carol Anne worked diligently to try to connect with doctors and health professionals to get some sort of diagnosis and assistance, but the state of health care in BC is in bad shape, and family doctors are few and far between, so Carol Anne continued to make her best guesses and treat herself with random Telus Health doctors.  She started taking time off work to focus on her health, but everything seemed to be getting worse.

Right around my birthday, May 23rd, things started to get worse, faster. She started losing time - she would forget what time it was; she would lose herself in her phone or tablet playing the same game over and over; she would go on online shopping sprees without thinking through what she was buying.  She started losing situational awareness, and we started to have to watch her carefully when we were out.  Her texting became increasingly erratic.  Her attempts to solve problems (her greatest strength) became incomplete, ill-timed, and poorly communicated, if at all.  Additionally, she started falling frequently, and when she fell, she could not figure out how to move her body to right herself.  She had a harder and harder time both getting her body to respond and responding to her body. [Included in this have been problems of bladder control.]  She, of course, was still thinking all of this was her own fault and that she needed to be doing something to get better - better diet, more exercise, etc.

Without going into all the specific details, she was less and less herself, and her choices were increasingly suspect.  Through all of this we still did not have any clear medical help except for the specific help Carol Anne could ask for from naturopaths and clinic doctors.  That help, though, was based on her previous diagnosis of depression and our own incomplete self-diagnosis, not on a medical diagnosis, so they were really only providing what she was asking for.

In the end, in desperation, we turned to private health care and paid much money to join a private practice. {A brief aside - Fortunately, this was not a “pay for a doctor visit” kind of practice, but rather a practice committed to providing a team of health care support that is interested as much in preventative medical care as they are with responding to acute medical symptoms.  We cannot emphasize enough how happy we are with the Beta Team-Based Healthcare group.  We would not have ended up with the care we received, and will be receiving, if Carol Anne had not found them. Setting aside the very Canadian cultural aversion to paying for personal health care out of pocket, we would like to encourage everyone to support this kind of health care.]

On Monday, June 24th, after a weekend with lots of falls, physical accidents, too much lost time, too much loss of communication from Carol Anne, and some very questionable choices, I took Carol Anne in to see the doctor with me describing my observations.  After a couple of very brief tests, the doctor strongly recommended we go to the hospital and get a CT scan right away.  Additionally, he insisted strongly that we go to the Victoria General Hospital, as that’s where the neuroscience team is based.  We proceeded to do this.

[Another brief aside - We cannot say enough good things about all of the staff, doctors, and nurses who work at the Victoria General Hospital.  The level of care, compassion, and dedication we received over the 6 days in hospital was amazing. Understanding that this care was delivered in spite of being under-funded, under-resourced, and over-worked makes the care even more impressive and us all the more grateful to have received it.]

We were seen without too much delay, fortunately, and the immediate results of CT scan initiated a series of health related actions that saw Carol Anne admitted to the hospital through the ER.  The ER doctor, sometime in the middle of the 3rd period of game 7, while we were parked in the ER hallway, explained to us that they spotted a very large tumor sitting on the executive function part of her brain, and it was large enough to also be affecting her motor control functions on both sides of her body.  An MRI was scheduled to more exactly identify the extent of the tumor and to check to see if it is a primary tumor or if there was yet more to worry about.  (Turns out it is the primary tumor - they have found nothing else at this point.)

So then, starting that Monday, she was placed under acute observation on the neuroscience floor while we waited for her surgery slot.  Carol Anne was in a low-stimulation ward, and her symptoms had progressed quite far by that point, so she had to wait without any electronic devices. This was not her favourite way to wait - she tried every tactic her tumor-clouded self could think of to get someone to bring her home. Fortunately, we all wanted her to stay in line for surgery more that we we wanted her home.

 Thursday, June 27th was, finally, surgery day.  After a bit of worry through the day because Carol Anne was accidentally fed breakfast that morning, she was wheeled away to the OR Thursday afternoon.  After several hours of (necessary) silence, I received a call from the surgeon.  

(Another aside - I would like to encourage all doctors to mentally prepare the first sentence to waiting family members so that there is no pause between greeting and the first sentence.  I cannot begin to express how many thoughts passed through my head in the 1.5 seconds between “Hello, Morgan? Dr. Fleetwood here.”  and “The surgery went very well!”  I lost years of my life in that 1.5 seconds)

The surgeon was thrilled with how the surgery went.  I could hear it in his voice on the phone, and Carol Anne says he was bouncing in the recovery area as he was talking.  I think the appropriate word here would be “chuffed.” 

They got everything that they could see!  It went quickly and easily, with a minimum of bleeding, so she didn’t need a transfusion. However, he emphasized that, of course, they cannot see the microscopic stuff. Further to that, he was very optimistic that, having drained the fluid around the cyst, a lot of her really extreme symptoms would start to clear up pretty quickly, and he's very optimistic about her recovery on that front. He said nothing went strange in the surgery. He was so very very happy with the way the whole thing went. 

Carol Anne had a follow up MRI scan Friday morning, in order to confirm that they have, in fact, gotten everything that they can get. As of Tuesday, July 2, we have not yet seen the results. 

Since the surgery, Caroline has been feeling much better and increasingly herself again. The first two days after the surgery saw a great and dramatic improvement in Carol Anne. Her motor functions have become much more in control,  she's much more aware of the difference between how she is now and how she was before the surgery, and she is continuing to discover the extent of how badly she had been affected by this tumor.. Her mood is improving, although she is going through bouts of anger, understandably, about how long it took to get treatment given how quickly she started improving since the surgery. 

We haven't seen the surgeon since the morning after the surgery, but we have appointments that are already being set up for the next couple of weeks to follow up with many doctors, occupational therapists, physiotherapists, nutritionists, and all sorts of other specialists yet to be named. She was discharged on Sunday, and she is now home and learning how to recover from the comfort of home. She is seeing visitors!  If you’d like to see Carol Anne, please send us a text and we’ll be happy to see you.

I know there are probably many questions that aren't being answered by this post, but that is either because we don't yet have the answers or because we're not yet ready to share. 

There is much physical and mental recuperation that all of us need to go through over the next weeks and months, but we are grateful that this is the challenge we have to face now rather than something else. 

We will try to post periodic updates once we've settled into routines at home and we have more news to share. This experience  has reinforced for us just how much attention and reform needs to be dedicated to the fundamental support systems of our society (health, education, shelter, and food security.) Whatever our future holds, advocating for an integrated vision of change will be a big part of it. 

In the meantime, we are turning our attention to Kathleen's and Matthew's wedding and upcoming move! We, all of us, are looking forward to seeing friends and family and sharing in celebration after this incredibly challenging period.

With love and appreciation,  

Carol Anne and Morgan

[stanestreet]

There’s no question about it: in elite circles, pessimism is cooler than optimism. If you want to cultivate a reputation for intelligence and sagacity, your best bet is to assert that things are terrible and about to get worse. To be optimistic is to expose yourself to the charge of naivety, and there few things more damaging to the aspirant public intellectual than that. This imbalance applies across the political spectrum, although on the left it is compounded by a sense that to be optimistic is to be uncaring and irresponsible.

A respectable version of the latter case is made by a school of psychologists who argue that people trick themselves into optimism about the social order because they don’t want to confront its injustices. Those disadvantaged by it are motivated to accept their lot and believe it will improve; those advantaged have an interest in defending the status quo; everyone conspires to deny or minimise social problems. This idea, known as “system justification”, is a little hard to square with data showing that most Americans, left and right, are pessimistic about the country’s future. Indeed, the cognitive distortion seems to go the other way.

In 2023, a team led by the political scientist Philip Tetlock set out to test system justification theory. First, they identified some metrics on which American society has objectively improved over the previous twenty years: falling teen pregnancies; a decline in the poverty rate, especially among African-Americans; fewer kids dropping out of school. Then they asked a cross-section of the American population whether they perceived those things to be getting better or worse. They found a surprising degree of unanimity: “Americans are united in their belief that things are getting worse than they really are.”

Negative illusions are harmful. It’s no coincidence that as Americans have become more pessimistic, they have become less happy, or that the people who have the most amount of future ahead of them - the young - are unhappiest of all. Neither is it surprising that people on the left are unhappier than people on the right.

Imagine you have a stock of pills which make you feel a little happier, and a little less likely to succumb to ennui and depression. These wonder pills have no unhealthy side-effects - indeed, their only side-effect is to make you physically as well as mentally healthier. Assuming you have abundant stock, wouldn’t you want to offer them to your friends, and indeed to everyone you encounter?

I believe this is how we should think about optimism, and the projection of optimism. For two reasons.

First of all, if optimism were a pill, we would take it. Optimism is related to fewer symptoms of depression and higher levels of wellbeing. Optimists are better at coping with adverse events, and deal with negative information more calmly. When people are more hopeful about the future, they take more care of themselves: optimism is associated with better cardiovascular health and more resilience to disease. Optimistic people are more likely to take action to solve problems; to create new ideas and new businesses.

Like most pills, this one can be dangerous in very large quantities. Gamblers who are too optimistic will lose all their money; politicians who believe they can’t lose will come crashing down. But in sensible amounts, optimism is very good for us.

Second, this is a pill we can give to others - and by doing so, make it more likely they pass it on. Optimism is contagious. This is because it is less of an intellectual position than a disposition: an attitude or mood. It’s been proven time and again that emotional states spread from person to person. We’re all subconsciously, but significantly, influenced by those who surround us. This is especially true of young people, who are their most porous and malleable.

The latest evidence for mental and emotional contagion comes from Finland, in a paper published in JAMA Psychiatry. The researchers analysed a database of information on more than 700,000 Finnish individuals born between 1985 and 1997. They tracked the progress of each cohort from ninth grade at school (approximately 16 years old) through to adult life.

What they found is that ninth-graders who had one or more classmates with a mental illness were then significantly more likely to develop a mental illness themselves in subsequent years. The effect was particularly strong for depression and anxiety. There was a dose-response relationship: people with two or more classmates with a mental illness were at a greater risk than those with only one. (Causation is always fuzzy in these studies but the researchers controlled for a range of other factors associated with mental illness).

I’m not suggesting pessimism is a mental disorder, or that by being pessimistic you’re going to make anyone ill, but the point is that mental and emotional states are not self-contained. They involve what economists call externalities, or spillover effects: unintended consequences for those in our vicinity, real or virtual. Moods spread fast through social media, and young people in particular are so plugged into social networks that they live inside a more volatile emotional weather system than any previous generation.

We’re used to the idea that when it comes to what we buy or how we heat our homes, we have wider social responsibilities. We’re less used to thinking this way about the choices we make in how we project moods or emotions. But perhaps we should.

This is not an argument for dishonesty, by the way: if you’re feeling miserable, you should be under no compunction to put on a brave face. It’s merely a suggestion that we be aware of the external costs and benefits of our behaviour, and factor them in to how we present ourselves in public. If you post a thread in which you express hopelessness about the state of the world, you’ll likely be making others feel a little more anxious and hopeless. Is your message really so important that you think that’s worth the cost?

Conversely, by expressing optimism, you can make others feel a little better about the world and about their own lives. That’s a public good. Of course, you should only do so if your optimism is realistic and grounded, rather than delusional and mindless. But there’s plenty of scope for that, even when it comes to climate change, the topic on which pessimism is most often, and most flamboyantly, expressed.

A new ethic of responsible optimism is emerging from the some of the smartest thinkers on that topic. Max Roser of Our World In Data and his colleague Hannah Ritchie (check out her book) are both passionate environmentalists. They point out that what we need on climate change is action and innovation, and people are more likely to act and innovate if they believe a positive outcome is possible. Pessimism, by contrast, induces ennui. It tends to paralyse rather than galvanise constructive action.

Roser and Ritchie also show, using data and rational argument, that there is plenty to be optimistic about, whether it’s green energy innovation or reductions in poverty. They reject the left-wing idea that to be optimistic is to be blind to tragedy and injustice, and argue instead that one can acknowledge “the world is awful”, while recognising that we’ve made extraordinary progress on human welfare over the last one hundred years, and can do so again in the century to come.

Older thinkers knew that pessimism and optimism are intertwined. Antonio Gramsci talked about “pessimism of the intellect; optimism of the will”. In other words, one should be clear-eyed about the world’s problems, and determined to change them. G.K. Chesterton said, “You need to hate the world enough to change it, but love it enough to consider it worth changing.” Both ingredients are necessary, but the latter must predominate.

As Tetlock shows, the problem we face today is not unrealistic optimism, but unrealistic pessimism. The truth is that, in our validation-needy world, it’s much easier to get attention for alarm calls than rallying cries. Perhaps, then, the forces of pessimism are too powerful to combat. But if I believed that, I wouldn’t have written this.

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

(Urgent) Hello! I really need help, I already searched on the internet but didnt find a satisfying answer so I really hope you'll be able to help. Soo I have to take swimming classes, I've been doing it and it's okay, the problem is that I'm on my period and absolutely can't wear tampons (or things similar) and I obviously don't have and won't get special swimwear. I don't want to tell my parents because I doubt they will understand.

Is there something I can do?

Lee says:

This is a good question! It’s probably relevant to a lot of transmasculine folks with the summer coming up and people being able to return to the pools and beaches since many of us are fully vaccinated now.

Unfortunately, I could come up with only six different (non-ideal) options to solve the problem:

1) Don't go swimming when you have your period

This might be a good option for a casual swimmer, but it isn't ideal if you're in swim classes and can't reschedule a class, or on a swim team and can't miss a practice or meet.

You could always quit and find a new form of exercise / a new job / a new sports team, but obviously that’s sort of a last resort if you can’t find any solution at all.

2) Wear a tampon

Tampons can be worn safely while swimming and prevent the blood from staining your suit when you get out of the pool.

To help prevent toxic shock syndrome, which is rare but dangerous, use the lowest absorbency tampon you can and change your tampon every 4-8 hours or as often as needed. Don’t leave your tampon in for more than 8 hours.

You said that you “absolutely can't wear tampons,” but didn’t clarify why you can’t do it. If the reason is unrelated to dysphoria then you may have a medical condition, or it may be that your hymen is covering the opening to your vagina. A doctor or nurse (either your primary care provider or someone at a nearby Planned Parenthood or similar) can help you figure out why it’s causing pain and figure out what to do about it if you do suspect it’s medical-related and not psychological.

Many trans people like wearing tampons for their convenience and because tampons don’t cause the bloody-diaper feeling that pads can cause; there are a number of anons who have told us that using tampons make them feel less dysphoric than wearing pads.

Putting in a tampon usually doesn’t hurt, but it may take some practice in the beginning. 

3) Wear a menstrual cup

Menstrual cups are safe to wear when you’re swimming, and function similarly to tampons.

Menstrual cups are great for people who are stealth but still get a period.

They’re small and easy to hide in your bedroom/dorm room/summer camp cabin, they’re reusable so you don’t have to buy more than one, and you can often use one cup for up to 10 years so you don’t have to buy them often.

Menstrual cups are discreet because you can wear a menstrual cup for 8-12 hours at a time, or until it’s full; this is because they hold 1 ounce of liquid, roughly twice the amount of a super-absorbent tampon or pad.

Having to emptying it only 2-3 times a day means you don’t have to carry extras with you that someone might notice in your bag, you never have to change your cup in the bathroom at school or at work, and you don’t have to worry about changing it in the locker room before you go swimming. 

Menstrual blood can start to smell when it’s exposed to air, but your cup forms an airtight seal so there’s less odor to bother you, and nothing for other people to notice either.

Cups may look kind of big, but most people can’t feel them once they’re in.

Putting in a cup shouldn’t hurt, but it may take some practice in the beginning. 

4) Wear a menstrual disc

Menstrual discs are similar to menstrual cups and can be worn swimming as well.

They aren’t reusable and are placed in a different way, but many of the pros are the same as those for cups.

5) Buy swimwear that helps catch or hide the blood

There are swimsuits which are dark colored and have absorbent layers built in to catch blood when you’re out of the pool (Example) but that isn’t very useful if you’re actually in the pool, or if you’re required to wear a certain type of swimsuit as a lifeguard, swimming instructor, or member of a swimming team. So this isn’t an ideal option, and you said that you don't have and won't get special swimwear.

6) Stop your menstrual cycle so you don't get your period while swimming (or at all, in general!)

This post lists a few non-dysphoria-related excuses you can use when asking your parents to stop your period, but saying that it interferes with your swimming lessons should be reason enough.

Everything you need to know about stopping your period with birth control

Everything you need to know about birth control

What You Need to Know About Birth Control and Breast Cancer

What’s up with birth control pills and vaping?

Will the chemicals in birth control mess me up?

What are birth control side effects?

Can I get birth control at Planned Parenthood without my parents’ permission?

Birth Control Your Own Adventure

Does depo-provera cause depression?

Are Low-Dose Birth Control Pills Right for You?

-

Given the information in your ask, you can’t skip lessons so option #1 is out, you can’t use tampons so option #2 is out, you won’t get special swimwear so option #5 is out, and you can’t tell your parents that you want to stop your period so option #6 is out. 

That leaves options #3 and #4, menstrual cups and discs. I would recommend doing some research on each option to see what fits your needs the best. 

However, if you feel unable to discuss menstruation with your parents, I would recommend a cup because they’re reusable you only need to buy one and that’s a good thing because it saves you money in the long term and you don’t need to repeatedly have to buy something that you’re embarrassed to talk about and hiding from them.

Here’s an article reviewing different menstrual cups here and I’d suggest looking at that. 

That article has links to buy the cups online, and this post explains how to buy something online without a credit card and without your parents finding out.

You can also buy menstrual cups in-person at a pharmacy, if there’s one close enough for you to walk or bike to, or if you can get a friend to bring you.

Hopefully that’s a good start for things to consider, but I know that it probably isn’t the satisfying answer that you were hoping for since you won’t like any of the options. 

However, I will note that I had a hysterectomy in 2018 so it’s been a lil while since I’ve had to deal with swimming while menstruating myself, so if the followers have any ideas that I’ve forgotten please feel free to add on!

(And yeah, a hysterectomy will definitely solve this issue for you but I’m assuming that’s a no-go in your situation which is why I didn’t include it in the list)

Anyhow, followers, any advice for anon?

[theratopia]

No time to cry

Dear Therapals,

The problem with passion projects is that sometimes they are forced into a hiatus while I take care of… other passion projects.

There is a bit of time travel involved in this one considering my first draft is many weeks old. For the sake of story-telling and good personal anecdotes, I will ignore date accuracy. In fairness, I reckon none of you cares about this.

Episode 187 reminded me of the ambivalence of our resilience. We are strong because surrender is never an option for those who count themselves lucky to get this far.

“I would think about how I would kill myself if I could…”

I cried ugly with this episode twice now. When our friend from Zimbabwe talked about having a better life than most people from their country just because they have food, shelter, enough money, and access to higher education I broke down hard. They look around themselves and see other people in dire situations and they feel like they should be more grateful, they feel like those few “luxuries” suffice to a happy life.

When we consider the vast majority of PodTherapy’s listeners, I’m confident to say that I am a type of diversity just from being not American. Yet, I am completely aware that I’m still a white, middle-class person. Behind my many complaints about the country I live in, there is a very conscious appreciation for the level of privilege I have within this particular reality. So, hearing from someone who I would consider less privileged than me that they sometimes think they should just be grateful because other people around them have even less was heartbreaking. I can relate, and I know how much it hurts.

The idea that you are ungrateful for wanting more than the bare minimum is something that I battle with sometimes too. We have these voices in our minds judging us at every display of dissatisfaction, badgering us for daring to be so spoiled as to want more. We tell ourselves that we could be in a worse situation and we think about that all the time because the worse situation is not far away in another “third world country”, it’s right there outside the window. For people who care about others, there’s almost shame of being ambitious. Or being different. Or wanting something else. It’s survivor’s guilt, but an entire lifetime of it.

One of my usual criticisms about the show is the general American-centrist approach, but I don’t exactly expect this to change because it would be silly of me to do so. Not that I don’t believe people can change their perspective, I just can’t expect this from three American guys who never had to deal with anything other than average white America. Their entire reality is fundamentally different from mine and will probably always be since we grew up in vastly different situations. It’s okay, and it is why I decided to write to them and to eventually create this space where I can speak freely on how I see things. By now I have learnt to appreciate those disparities and communicate them as much as I can. The bottom line is, Americans will hardly ever really understand how we Brazilians - or you Zimbabweans - think about community and how we position ourselves as individuals. The same goes the other way around - I don’t get at all the constant need for competition. We can recognize those contrasts and share our experiences to broaden everyone’s perspectives. Seeing things from multiple angles can be a powerful tool to better solve the problems we are faced with. For the record, I am not comparing Brazil and Zimbabwe, I can perfectly recognize that Brazil has a lot of advantages in comparison, and I also know very little about Zimbabwe to make any further judgment. My point here is to clearly put these two countries in a separated group from the US.

Nick said that the listener seemed to have developed healthy coping mechanisms. Speaking from this part of the world that gets described as “third world” I feel like I need to point to the cruelty involved in that process. Living through historic events is exhausting and we have to do it with a grace that is rarely shown to us.

What our beloved American friends seem to fundamentally miss is that we just don’t have the time and the resources to even consider mental illnesses as part of the conversation.

What I mean is that we don’t recognize the impact of our mental health when we are too busy surviving. Throughout this entire pandemic, Brazil is putting its grief on an imaginary credit card that will probably never be charged, or it will snowball into a bigger catastrophe. We simply don’t have the time to cry for every single person that we lose to a preventable disease while we are already burdened with other worries about our own survival. I don’t have time to be depressed and not go to work because I have to feed my family. I don’t have time to contemplate the death of another thousand because I would just be doing that every day. Maybe as a defense mechanism, we become very numb to otherwise tragic situations. Death, loss and suffering are not an anomaly in our reality, they are somewhat the expectation. Considering this, emotional resources are rationed wisely. I cried when one of my favorite comedians died, but nothing changed for me after the passing of the neighbor who almost destroyed my family. To be honest, we will catch ourselves smiling when we hear some famous person died from old age, at least they expired at their terms.

During the days leading to my first shot of the Covid-19 vaccine, my sister and my partner warned me about the pain that would follow the desired jab. They told me to expect a lot of soreness, a sick feeling, real exhaustion. I was prepared to take the rest of the week off to enjoy the beating of immunization.

The issue is this: none of that happened. My arm was hurting for less than 24 hours. In fact, two days after the shot I gave myself two hard slaps in the arm just to show dominance. Pain is not a stranger to me, it’s a character trait. You can’t be soft in a battle.

That said, it’s not cute that we are survivors. Only a few of us are privileged enough to contemplate what it actually means to live, to have the ability to desire for more than the bare minimum. And it hurts us to know that the majority is just surviving.

Now, one thing we can always do is look for peers. The internet made it possible for people to create borderless communities, so we should take advantage of that for our benefit. (Please, Darwin, let me not go on a tangent about destructive communities that can only thrive and expand because of the internet. Thank you.) So, if you can’t find a friend in your village to talk about your struggles with mental health, reach out to a friend in Brazil. Or Poland. Or Australia. We exist, we are here. We are other real people with real problems and a lot of us are open to help those who feel lost and alone. I promise you will find someone who understands your pain, or at least is willing to try.

If you need to hide your care from your family, and can, do it. Just get treated, get help. Worry about yourself first. Nobody needs to know about your health but your doctor or health care team. We love ourselves first, then we ration our energy to help others.

We deserve what we want, friend. We deserve more, we deserve better.

As the official Mayor of Theratopia, fan number #1, and president of the Brazilian Chapter, I hereby dub thee president of the Zimbabwean Chapter. Rejoice!

Triple hug.

The Mayor

[raguna-blade]

So carrying on the shared symbol thing with persona games, here’s a fun one that probably needs more time in the oven but hey, can come back later with later revelations

So, here’s one that technically shows up in the first game but doesn’t really become a thing until (I am assuming, i still need to actually play the first few and finish most of them but whatever) Persona 3

Evokers! Also known as guns. Specifically hand guns, but I think that’s the least important detail when one of the big symbols of your game is shooting yourself in the head to summon mythic figures.

So Evokers. In game, and as per the wiki, they are supposed to function by more or less...making you face mortality and the fact that you’re going to die for real.

By simulating shooting yourself in the face. It’s a good thing that the Kirijo group already got their mad science comeuppance because man, that’s kinda...

But hey, the logic and rules at play here do seem to be consistent across the games. To Summon a persona requires, apparently, a huge amount of stress and or trauma to activate properly, and the Evokers are a fast way to do that that isn’t, comparatively anyway, super duper traumatic. It’s free artificial trauma for everyone that is comparatively less permanent.

Which...Well I don’t believe that for a second considering SEES is one big trauma center. I don’t think there is a single person in that group who is trauma free really. Nobody is free of it, even the dog.

I mean maybe the protag, but they come off as super depressed to me.

But for the moment let’s accept that as true. If i’m wrong i’m wrong, but I think i’m right and i want to get to the juicy stuff.

So given evokers function by applying trauma directly to the soul to summon yon persona, I think it’s obvious then what guns are SUPPOSED to represent right?

Trauma. But not just any kind of trauma no. Remember, Evokers are supposed to basically be going Hey Trauma But For A REASON. To Summon a Persona. A persona which is used to protect yourself from something (Shadows technically, but A persona is a mask used to face life’s struggles as the games are so fond of reminding us.)

So, Guns are Trauma Turned Towards Protecting Yourself from...something. My understanding of psych stuff is you know, layman, but basically it’s an active self defense mechanism. Or at least turning that pain on outside hurty things.

So if this holds true as a consistent and shared symbol going forward, we should expect that everyone who uses a gun is both

A: Traumatized in some manner.

2: Actively Defending themselves possibly by literally using that trauma against things.

Which i’m sure is totally a healthy thing to be doing. Has to be. Can’t not be right?

I can see no possible way in which using your trauma like a club against the world can possibly backfire on you.

SO!

Who uses guns in the series going forward.

In Persona 4, We have two for sure, maybe a third. That is Naoto, Adachi, and Maybe Dojima (I assume he HAS a gun, but I don’t think he’s ever shown using it. I’m going to assume for the moment this is true as fits the analysis, cause it fits well enough, but if he actually pulls it out ehh)

Persona 5 has uh...literally all of the phantom thieves. Technically not morganna, but if you think a slingshot isn’t basically a fire arm, well sure technically but also you can absolutely kill someone with a slingshot don’t get it twisted. But yeah, all of the phantom thieves and ESPECIALLY Akechi, since he uses a real one. Well, sans Futaba, but we’ll get there.

And do these individuals demonstrate being both traumatized AND using that as some kind of defense mechanism...?

yeh.

So start with P4. Now compare the other persona users in 3-5, the group in 4 is actually really well adjusted. Like yeah, you have some elements of stress and being an outcast and elements of weird harrowing stuff happening to them sure. I mean if nothing else they’re in the middle of a murder mystery with a serial killer in town, that’s stressful for anyone, let alone the weird supernatural shit on top of it, and then there’s the more mundane stressors.

But...Uh...Largely, they’re handling it pretty well actually. Protag was pretty alright moving to town and seems to get along with people well. Yosuke had the dislike of being in town but he had friends, he wasn’t really hated or anything. Chie is pretty alright, Yukiko is stressed but not exactly freaking out, Kanji has some shame going on however you want to frame that i’m told it reads different for japanese audiences though it’s not mutually exclusive, Teddie DID in fact have an existential crisis but that’s not really the same thing i think, Rise is hella stressed, and then there’s naoto who uh.

Kid’s got some problems. They’re also the only one who uses a gun So Hey First stop.

So depending on how you want to read it, Naoto is either dealing with some trans issues or just aggressive and unending misogyny given their profession. Personally while i can see the naoto is trans reading, the game doesn’t explicitly come out with that as the issue, while it DOES with the misogyny so I’m going with that. If you do think it’s more that than what i’m going with, you can easily sub it in I think since from what i’ve heard on the subject suggests it very much CAN be traumatizing dealing with that in society....And also because it’d still feed back into the misogyny thing so it comes back to that anyway.

Regardless. This is a thorny enough issue really, so i’ll strive to not fuck up but please forgive me if I do cause it’s not intentional.

What do we see with Naoto? They’re a genuinely skilled, talented and experienced detective, and at a really young age. Their skills are undeniable really, and they’ve got acclaim and real accomplishments under their belt.

They are also, apparently, belittled constantly because they’re read as female and that is apparently far far more important than their skill. Because of that they’re belittled, talked down to and dismissed purely because of that.

And Naoto is fucking tired of it. So much so that they do everything in their power to present as male and believe they should straight up just...cut out whatever lady aspects are there and just go full dude.

Which here you get two really radically(?) different readings depending on if you fall on the Naoto is Trans and so fucking tired of the misogyny vs Naoto Is fucking Tired of the misogyny and so damn desperate.

In case A, Naoto genuinely believes they’re a dude, and genuinely believes duding it up will solve their problem....But they’re rejecting that part of themselves actively, and refusing to acknowledge it at all. That’s a problem for him, if only because actively rejecting a part of yourself is by no means a healthy thing, especially when it keeps getting brought up constantly in your line of work (I can only imagine how much this would suck to be dismissed because people think you’re a girl when you’re a guy but also you’re denying that you’re a guy and recognize that even if you were outwardly a guy they would STILL dismiss you as a girl even though you’re not. Just typing that out is...yech.)

In Case B, you have a still tired of the dismissal, but also they think they radically need to change their body and gender just to get anywhere in the world which is egregiously fucked up because you know. She’s good at her job! Why should she HAVE to be a dude to get anything done? It’s fucked up.

But they’re a gunman! So...i mean i guess it’s obvious what the trauma at play here is, it’s gender related regardless of how you slice it and how is it used...? Naoto disguises (or “disguises”) themselves as a guy, actively using the thing that they’re being traumatized by to fight back against the world in some way.

I mean as thorny as the issue is in the reading it, the outcome is at least simple enough under the shared symbols thing.

Ok, but what about Adachi...? Welllllllllllllllllll

Adachi is definitely traumatized I think but it's not in the kind of way that's sharp and specific. I'm cribbing a bit off of [https://youtu.be/8qG8Mqe_1v8] with their description of how Adachi reacts to the Scoobies calling him out.

To summarize and or paraphrase, it's not that there's a specific thing that broke Adachi down. It's that he's trapped in a job he hates, or at least without the possibility of improvement. He's shoved in a backwater town when he's a city boy. He feels ignored, he doesn't like the people around him very much, he's got basically no money, he has no significant other, he has to just keep going and existing day in and day out and it's...

God it's so fucking soul killing.

It's not like his childhood was better apparently, in that it basically was a prelude to adult hood but also unlike then, he didn't have the supposed promise of do well in school and get cool shit that was summarily broken.

So what's a guy who's made to feel worthless, made to feel like a nobody, made to feel utterly disenfranchised, and has actual evidence to support some of this (keep in mind the reason he got reassigned did involve him screwing up somehow, though I don't think it's explained what or how) going to react when given the ability to act out with no consequences, or seemingly?

Well, I imagine that you would see them do some fucked up shit really. We've seen people in real life do things just as bad if not worse, and the exact way he wields his trauma is well...sadly understandable to anyone.

Though another interesting shared thing, which I neglected earlier and MAY share into the Gun Imagery is a sense of isolation. Which...Actually. Actually may track. Evokers are used by well...ritualistically killing yourself, which is for all the harm it throws out to everyone connected to you, is also a very solitary act. And in both cases here, the characters are in a very real way killing their true selves in order to deal with the world (In adachis case by presenting a fake version of himself and in Naoto's case by actively rejecting a part of themselves however you want to spin that one)

This does raise a question of the SEES gang having elements of isolation which off hand I want to say yes that's the case across the board, and only by coming together do they win but I also legitimately cannot recall how it plays out beyond the minimal We're The Only Ones Capable of Dealing With This thing which isn't quite the same thing. The ritualized killing yourself still stands so that's still in play really, and i'll keep an eye on it going forward.

I should probably ALSO keep an eye on the uh...Suicide aspects. Even looking back at Naoto and Adachi they have elements of it, although more figurative than literal. Both very much have a life is over thing related to their careers and where they end up when first introduced, so it's not an unreasonable call though the strict actual read of suicide suicide is...Hmmm...

Well I suppose Adachi's chunk of the world is accessed through the noose room if I recall, so that might not be quite as empty a connection, while Naoto's secret lab thing may not be quite as on the nose it does focus on a destruction of self in some way given the way a lot of those secret labs go about doing things in those shows.

That is, there's generally one of two outcomes. Either the Evil Org creates a mindless/corrupted pawn to use whatever their powers/abilities are for the organization (see every monster of the week) OR they create a hero/renegade warrior that uses those very same powers they were imbued with against them....Which suddenly makes me wonder if the the ambiguity of if Naoto's transness vs woman in male spaces thing is intentional in regards to how to read that section. If so that's actually clever as hell because then either way you want to read it the literal what's going on with their shadow (body modification either to become their true self and the rejection of that or to be able to actually be respected for their work and the implied destruction of self that's going on there) it reads as this is bad so...Kudos.

Anyway, off topic, maybe another day.

All this said, this leads to Dojima who SHOULD have a gun and probably does, but...never uses it that I can recall, not once. Doesn't even show up with a gun if memory serves.

It's not that he's not traumatized. He most definitely does have some shit kicking around what with the dead wife, disconnect from his daughter and all that, but he never really...weaponizes it does he? He never turns it on others, never uses it to isolate, none of that. Which is interesting because as a Cop I think we can safely say he SHOULD have a gun of some flavor right? That does seem to be the vibe, and yet he doesn't freak out. The reason why is heartfully straightforward though.

Nanako. He can't exactly revel in his hurt and lash out at folks with it. Like yes, he's not winning parent of the year at the start of the game by a long shot, but frankly emotionally distant and neglectful after your wife died but still trying (failing but trying, critically, the trying) is not the worst spot to be in, no way. And he takes to reorienting things quite well once he get's the additional stability in his life Yu and (at least in part) Adachi.

Which, really, is what also ended up saving the SEES members. Not Yu, but the fact that they managed to form genuine connections with each other that let them get past the hurt and not be taken up and swallowed by it. It's why Adachi ended up going the way he did because he really DIDN'T forge those connections, and because of the whole everything he couldn't really get out of that loop and fix himself up.

I mean Izanami's game basically threw two whole ass people into the deep end of their problems but this ain't about her right now.

So ok, that's the group from 4 and right now this is feeling pretty consistent.

So let's get to the group that has literally every party member carrying with The Phantom Thieves.

So...again, to bring it back, Guns symbolically here are weaponized trauma right? They're using that to strike back against what's threatening you, often by using it against them.

Now, there are variances with the phantom thieves for sure, and the most relevant and DIRECT one is that all of them, every last one, is an outcast of some flavor from the social norms, and this has screwed with them something fierce. Now it's not as apparent or visible in all cases, but I'll get into specifics as we go down the list, but I want to say this at the top because it fundamentally comes down to Because Of this outcast status, this particular form of trauma, they became the Phantom Thieves, and in doing so struck back against the society that hurt them, with the intent to inspire those like them.

Well not Akechi, but his specific issues at least nominally align I guess.

Anyway. I won't go into as much detail here, but I feel it's worth pointing out that their Phantom Thieves Personas are probably the cleanest way to point out how they go about weaponizing their various more personalized traumas to protect themselves and fight back.

Joker: Accused of a crime he didn't commit, sent to a city away from his family and friends, said to be a violent felon...Like it's not exactly brought up in the game in part because he's a silent protag but Joker absolutely had his life ruined. Like full stop, his world fell apart over night, not because he did something wrong but because he tried to do the right thing. And then Kamoshida happened which basically took boyo from being merely fucked over to losing what little he had left (where what he had left was a friend of a friend of his folks taking him in and shoving him in a drafty attic)

And then from said trauma he created the well...Joker Persona. Someone who emphatically is a criminal, the kind of guy who is actually pretty ominous when you consider the knife,gun and dark outfit combo making him look like some kind of assassin. That he helps people is probably a small miracle really.

But by the same token, it's blatantly clear the persona that he pretends at school is not his true self either. He has to hide himself, make himself look small and innocent and as unthreatening as humanly possible. He's not, by any means but...

Morgana: Imagine you wake up one day and you remember maybe your name, a few random bits of information, and nothing else except that you were (probably) a human and now decidedly are not. That's...Rough man. It's just rough to deal with and it's awful, and then you just keep getting hit with that fact over and over and over again. Mona's pretty straightforward, but it tracks that they would make themselves out to be the cool collected sort that they do (even though they botch it nigh constantly). If you can't remember anything about yourself, make yourself out to be the coolest smartest most talented type right?

Ryuji: He literally had an authority figure not only mock his family situation, he straight up broke his leg, killed his dream of running track, ostracized him from his friends and peers, put more pressure on his mom. He was reduced to a thug and his response to that was, apparently, let me be a (diet) delinquent then. It's not like he did anything bad really but he certainly stopped giving any kind of a shit to the world. His attitude got turned up for sure. This got more emphasized with the Actual Skull persona as a phantom thief, where he's far more intimidating, outright hostile and violent (A bat and a shotgun? yee)

Ann: I mean there's the obvious sexual assault, her friend attempting suicide, etc, but i've seen it pointed out that a good chunk of Ann's problems are also based in the fact that she's white in japan, so basically she straight up has to deal with racism too. It's why she's considered the sexy one for example (girls like her are easy you understand) so it's...well. How the game handles (or doesn't) that aside, the persona she ends up developing first off a very blithe sort of vibe to how the world views her (seen in her confidant arc) before ultimately gravitating to having more active control over her image and consciously choosing how the world will view her instead of them making the choice themselves.

Yusuke: Abusive parents (which is damn near a theme with the phantom thieves. Families being broken or Abusive which is hm) who actively stole his work, and he knew about it. It very clearly messes with his art and his relationship to this thing that he loves, and even after knowing how his adoptive dad was abusing him and other students and making a mockery of art...To which he actively throws himself into Art EVEN HARDER than before, as a dedicated fuck you on the subject. Actually straightforward, which is perhaps weird for Yusuke, but hey they can't all require deeper reading.

Makoto: Makoto's deal is a bit more complicated but boils down to She's tired of having all these expectations pushed onto her and dictating the exact kind of person she should be. Always the good girl, always kind and elegant, soft spoken, I mean she knows aikido and is supposed to be good with it. Which is why she turns that around is basically Lord Humongous, albeit less jacked dude in bondage gear and more Badass Violence Biker. Just let it all out and take no shit from anyone ever. Again straightforward enough.

Futaba: Now...Here's a weird one to say because it's...She doesn't have a gun. I mean we could probably make a fair enough statement, if an absolutely buckwild one, that she does not at this point have a trauma. Or at least, not one that is weaponized. Because well...Her issues were very self focused. She thought her mom killed herself because of her, and that almost made her (futaba) kill herself. That's not a great place to be, but it's not like she ever takes her dead mom issues out on the world. She doesn't even really take her extreme social issues out on the world. If anything she pretty much...Has them and kind of deals with them quietly.

I suppose you could say that her weapon of choice is the computer. It's no gun, obviously, but unlike everyone else up til this point she also doesn't really...hide herself. There's no fake persona (in the not summoned beings of myth and story) that she presents to the world. She's decisively genuine about everything, and pretty much the only difference between her and her Oracle persona is neat goggles yeah? Which makes her an interesting pair with Maruki who we'll get to later as another gun not haver.

Haru: Kind of a complicated one, though also kinda straightforward. She's ostracized from her father and finds the abuse that he's laying down on the people who work for them abhorent, which is bad enough, that kind of realization that your life is built on the suffering of others. There's also the uh...It's not strictly this because arranged marriages are very much business affairs more than romance, but the way it's portrayed definitely reads as her dad selling her which is you know. Not...ideal, though her specific reservations there seemed less the arranged marriage (it's business she get's it) but more the dude was an creep and also again the abuse. The family motto being betray anyone to get ahead (paraphrased to hell and back) also suggests some not so great things really, though her bond with her dad did seem to be genuinely strong, which is why her reaction is tada heroine of justice.

Which, I just realized this and I gotta point it out, actually lines up MARVELOUSLY with Morgana and Zorro. Wealthy Individual who see's the crimes and evil deeds of the world and decides to mask up and fight the crime they cannot contest with their unmasked face, warring against the system that enriched them at presumable cost to themselves because it's the right thing to do? Beautiful. Probably should look into that more. But yeah.

Sumire: I mean...I mean she basically straight up says I think I was second best to my sister in everyway and then I got her killed and her reaction to that was Let Me Be My Sister and well...yeah that's exactly how she dealt with her trauma, albeit with a little bit of magic help. And Perhaps most notably, this is almost the most explicit demonstration of Evoker Gun Antics because She Creates a Persona (“Kasumi”) To Protect Herself (alldattrauma.exe) by using that trauma (dead sister) against the world (Literally everyone else) it's...Actually a really clean example I think?

Akechi: Last but not least of the gun havers, Akechi who uh...Outcast because of family reasons (single mom, Dad's a creep) in a way that just...We don't actually ever get the details I don't think, but the way he reacts to it I think makes it clear that his whole life was basically a string of kick this kid while he's down, keep him outside the system, and of course the persona he ends up creating, both of them, end up being one the charming charismatic prince who seeks justice and a bloodthirsty lunatic, neither of which accurately reflect his true self I don't think. Aspects of it sure, but not completely. If pressed, I would say that the Akechi we see in the Third Semester is probably the closest even though he's probably a dream Akechi, being someone who does have a distinct judgement for what is right and wrong but also, critically, can and will shoot you in the face cackling as his plans come together. Rather like Joker actually, which is appropriate given their mirrored trickster roles, and the general shape of their outcomes (both get their smuggery on when things go to plan)

Anyway, the way he reacts to being forced to live an outcast is as mentioned, let me get back into that system, let me be part of it and all that.

And last but not least

Maruki: Now...He doesn't have a gun. It doesn't quite match up with the symbol thing which I think at this point is established enough that it's probably some kind of thing, but what I find interesting is that...he fits MOST of the criteria right? Definitely has a trauma that shaped how he reacted to the world and yet, it's not weaponized right? It doesn't well...evoke a different persona from him. It's not weaponized to protect him and that seems odd right? He ends up with a Palace right?

Sure. But I want to go back to what i'm proposing the Evokers Represent.

Trauma, A Destruction of the Self (Suicide literal or figurative), Isolation, and weaponizing your trauma to protect against the world...And he only actually tracks to the Trauma part of that. He IS hurt for sure, no question. He is fighting back against the world in his own way for sure, what with Azathoth and his mind whammy, and I would say that the nature of it is directing how he's doing things (no more pain for anyone yeah sure)

But where it falls apart, and actually DOES line up with the guns as metaphor for those things mentioned, is that he doesn't really Isolate. He doesn't present a fake self to protect himself. He doesn't destroy an aspect of himself to protect himself. No, he's extremely upfront that “No this is bullshit, it should change, fuck this noise, I'll do what I can with what I can and oh hey godlike power now I can help everyone”

Which cool, except that apparently in the Stay in Maruki's world ending he kinda fades into the background, which suggests the self destruction but no, not even then really. Like I know I made a bit of meta about him obscuring himself and kinda fading away as a person, but I don't think it's strictly meant to be get rid of yourself so much focus on the message and not the messenger. You can throw your mask away. No more pretending. You don't have to hurt anymore. As the song goes.

And it's worth pointing out that, in comparison to literally everyone else on this list, Maruki is unambiguously a healthier person mentally by a long shot. Shady antics with Sumire aside, He genuinely wants to help people, he want's them to be better the right way ideally but if he had the means to do it of course he'd just hot delete those deeply traumatic and life shattering pains that they couldn't overcome. Then he does get that ability. And Then he does do that.

Anyway, the ramblings on long enough, and I kinda feel i'm drifting, but yeah. Think this is another symbol that tracks (I probably wanna check out Persona Q and Q2, but what I know on those does have it break down a bit but they're also not mainline games so I'm not sure how to square that so....)

[mordigen]

I had not written anything in a minute, as I typically use this as my sounding board, or soap box, if you will....but I guess things just hadn't gotten under my skin lately to make me feel the need to sound off. Which is a beautiful thing, I suppose, even if writing is lacking.

Indeed it has been quite....quiet, quite harmonious within the circles I frequent. Which is unusual, especially as we've had a couple Holidays, which usually stirs all the controversy. And I know with my last 3 part post I noted I had much more to talk about....but I've forgotten them all. So, they must not have been that important, eh?

It has been nice.

But (as there's always a but) in this quiet time I noticed something else - something I am certainly not unfamiliar with, but have never talked about, or confronted at all really.

I find myself feeling drawn away - and no, not in the depressive sense, as I am also certainly not unfamiliar with, but in a way that I have a hard time defining.

It is melancholy in the sense that it feels like a deep seated yearning - but not in a bad way, by any means, as I feel like if those yearnings didn't come and go over time, then I wouldn't be wholly myself. They are a part of me - they are not a bad thing, even if bittersweet.

They ebb and flow, and sometimes recede completely - at other times consume me completely. Though they usually hit me without warning, they start gradually and I can feel the oncoming tide. And once they've run their course, they recede just as swiftly, and gently, as they've rushed upon me.

It has happened for as long as I can, lucidly, remember. Though putting an exact date or age to it is difficult, as childhood memories tend to mesh and bleed together over the years, it can easily be said adolescence, at least, so it has been quite some time. But I still haven't ever gotten used to them, or have figured out how to cope with them - mentally or emotionally, anyhow. They do not prevent me from functioning or living my life, but they do wreck my mental state in a way. Though, I'm not sure I want to figure out how to cope with that...

I have been told by various people, at various points in my life, that I suffer from various forms of a disassociative disorder. Knowing I have depression issues I have investigated....but, No. Just no - it's not right. In all the many ones I have done ample research in, it's just not right - that is not me, that is not what I am experiencing. That is not what is happening, the "symptoms", even if some appear similar superficially, are all wrong.

When I say I feel drawn away, I do not mean I feel *detached*. That is a very big distinction - I'm feeling pulled away, to somewhere or something else, I do not feel disconnected. You can feel a connection to multiple things at once - so to be pulled into a something or somewhere else doesn't mean I have to detach, or "disassociate" with the here and now. I don't. Perhaps it is a foreign thing to try to describe to someone who has never experienced it before, and yes it is a hard to find the right words to begin with to really explain it in depth - but it's not that I "disassociate". Stop calling it that.

It is this very reason why I have never talked about it in depth at all, because even the slightest mention of anything puts others on high-alert. I know they are only trying to help, but no - you are not listening, you are not understanding. The best, and simplest, way I can recount it is like prioritizing. This thing - it's always there. It's always in me, and sometimes it just needs it's time. It doesn't even come first, as I still put all the needs and wants and important bits of this finite world first and foremost, but it needs its time in the sun, too.

As a child, they would say I was "dreamy" or just had an active imagination - I would day dream frequently, locked up inside my own head. Though I loved to play, and read, and write, and draw, I didn't need those things to enjoy my time. I could lay around for hours, in my own thoughts, completely happy and content, drawn away, off on an adventure, listening to the silent things whisper when they think no one is listening. I would doze and nap, and sleep extra long through the night - not because I was bored, or tired, but just because it gave me time in my own head - in my 'dreamland', where all these other things happened that wouldn't - or couldn't - in the waking world. As a young child, these were always described as good things....as a teen, it's often described as having your "head in the clouds" - something that is not necessarily good or bad, potentially problematic if left unchecked, but still nonetheless endearing. But as an adult? Phh. Well. Something must be wrong with you.

You're expected to grow out of it, but I find in adulthood it hits harder, and comes heavier, than ever as a child. Possibly because as children we're given room to indulge...it's creative, imaginative, learning to be content with your own company is touted as idealistic means of coping skills and personal growth - until it isn't.

For an extended time of my adult years I was wrongfully persuaded that it was hormonal as others had noted I tended to feel this 'drawing' around my cycle. I do get more emotional, and boy does the fatigue hit hard - but that still didn't make sense to me as it didn't happen *every* time on my cycle, and there were plenty of times it happened not on my cycle at all. Well, it doesn't have to happen everytime for it to be related, and hormones fluctuate throughout the whole month, so you don't have to actually be physically bleeding for it to be cycle related. What a cop out. With that logic, anything and everything under the sun and moon can be "cycle related". Bonus points deducted for the fact that every person telling me this was also, in fact, a woman. Shame. Lazy medicine right there. Lazy womanhood right there. And that's not even a feminist statement - that's just a common sense statement. Oh, so is every possible problem you ever have because of your period, M'AM ? So stupid. Stupider, yet, is that I listened to them. But I did, and I followed their suggestions - none of them worked, but with each new wave I would think the next would be better and easier if I just stayed the course - ignoring the fact that nothing was inherently wrong, and that this was only deemed an "issue" as it was categorized as "abnormal" and therefore must be fixed.

What I have come to realize now is that all those incidents - people wanting to categorize me with mental disorders, emotional disorders, or hormonal imbalances - call came at I time when I was, in fact, disconnected with something : my spirituality. I didn't have any type of falling out, or disillusioned from anything I ever believed in. Life just simply got in the way, I had more important things to worry about and do, and much less time to do them all in, so you just let certain things go that are not as pressing. Looking back at it now, I think maybe that is why they pulled on me harder in those years. Perhaps it was something drawing back in... I'd like to believe so, anyhow. And that's why I was stupid enough to believe doctors, and counselors, about stupid things I knew were not right - because I wasn't listening to the other half. And of course, nothing the ever suggested ever made one bit of difference - because it's not what was happening to me. And truthfully, because nothing was ever wrong.

As life started to level out, I slowly started doing little things here and there with my beliefs, with my workings. Little things, but baby steps, right? You can't just get off the couch and run a marathon - you have to warm up those muscles, start exercising those parts that have atrophied, and retraining your skills. Same applies - baby steps. It grew slowly over a few years - the tidal waves kept their course, as they do, and I just sort of accepted it at face value. But then the pandemic hit, and the world shut down. And boy, did I have all the time in the world.....and I used it.

Over this last year what I have come to realize is that, firstly - I was absolutely not alone. But also that I wasn't really paying as much attention as I thought I was - or my attention was skewed , by 'professionals', to focus on the wrong things. There was much more a pattern than I had ever noticed. These waves didn't come out of nowhere - though once they were on me, I could feel the gradual build - but before they ever even tickled my feet there were signs, there were patterns. I'd have days of restless nights, strange dreams, then it would fold into die-hard sleep, with absolutely no dreams at all - but waking as if I hadn't slept a wink and had been working all through the night. I'd wake with aches and strains, sometimes even bruises. We'd joke that our mattress was beating us up at night - we even forked out decent money for a brand new one. It's fabulous, and it solved zero of my problems, though my husband now sleeps like a baby...

It's only after these restless, exhausting nights does the tide start to flow back in, and the dreamy, dozey longing set in. The ache for something I cannot put my finger on, and the willingness to relent and let it take me away, even for just a time, and indulge in that pulling out to sea. I let it take me now - I do not fight it, I do not endure it, I let it take me and draw me out. And this is what so many professionals call "disassociating" - but that's not right. That's not what's happening.

And this is not some great spiritual come to Jeesus moment I am preaching to any of you, or certainly not meaning to be, but just the simplicity of paying attention. We, as pagans, just have the driven, inherent understansung that there are many more forces, and much more out there than what you see on the surface. And I had forgotten. Though I've kept my mouth shut, I've taken note when the topics and discussions come up - tons of people were in my very shoes. But they had been paying attention all along. I had forgotten. Some of the stories thrown out there I can't always get behind. Some of them are just flat out - No. But there were many more that weren't - they talked of the moon. The conjunctions. Astral travel. Being spirited away in the night. The veils. The Oran Mór. I was so stupid, I had been so blind.

And then, this year of much more laxed time gave me the opportunity to actually listen. These tides... their pattern.

The restless nights always came with the moons - these tides, they always came around significant dates....days when the veils are thinning. And now, as I feel the sweeping tides begin to pull again - here we are. Bealtaine is on the horizon. And as I wrack my memories.... every time.

Every. Time.

What is happening to me exactly? I still do not know - is this the call of the Oran Mór? Are the veils pulling at something deep inside me? Are the Fae trying to steal me away, as so many are quick to warn... Is there danger in letting the tides take me? Is this some deeper part of me being drawn home, trying to jar me to pay closer attention to things I have left forgotten? Something in there makes me think of my brothers...

I don't know all these answers, but I can't ignore them now that I've taken the time to listen. What I do know is that, whatever they may be - I don't want these tides to leave me. And believing that doesn't give me a dissociative disorder.

[lia-jones]

Growing Stronger - Chapter Four - Happy Birthday, Andrea! (Andrea’s POV)

Once upon a time, a young American oenologist met a gorgeous Portuguese psychology student in the beautiful city of Oporto. He was a writer for a food and travel magazine, working on an article about the winery she worked at part-time as a tour guide. They spent the three days they were together admiring the vineyards, watching the grapes being pressed, examining the casks where the wine must was left to ferment, and finally, by the end of their journey, they kissed while gazing at the beautiful Douro river, certain that they would never see each other again.

However, life would have it another way. The young American returned to his country, but his heart did not. Much to his dismay, it was beating hard and fast, still at Douro’s riverbank, waiting for his return. He took all the money he had saved, said goodbye to his family and rented a house in the city of Matosinhos, in Portugal, determined to find the beautiful psychology student. They met again and instantly reconnected, her family hated him, they eloped and moved to Lisbon after she graduated. Two years later she was well established as a therapist working at a clinic and furthering her studies, while he was writing for Michelin magazine.

My and Joshua’s story begins about this time. Always the overachiever, Mariana couldn’t have just produced one egg, she had to have two. And Jeremy, always eager to make his wife happy, even if without his knowledge, was happy to oblige and fertilize both. And presto! My mother was pregnant with twins. Fraternal twins, to be exact. A boy and a girl, born on June 11th, the girl first, then the boy, five minutes later.

Despite being fraternal twins, Josh and I had nothing in common. I was short, 5.2 feet, while Josh was practically a giant, almost 6.5 feet. He had my father’s hazel eyes and my mom’s dark hair, while I had brown eyes just like my mother, and light brown hair with a few golden highlights, resembling my father. Josh was loud, scattered and somewhat hot-blooded, but funny, witty and kind. He never had any problem making friends, even adults loved his perky attitude. I was more on the shy side growing up, always more interested in my own thing than actually in socializing. Most people didn’t believe we were related, let alone twins. Josh would always correct them with pride. And if anyone even dared to hurt me, they would meet his wrath.

That’s the thing with twins. The moment you are born together, you are best friends for life. It’s like a sacred bond is formed still in the womb, and it can never be broken. A sense of companionship and loyalty, a telepathic connection, something beyond comprehension that only a twin can understand, and that surpassed every downside of having a sibling sharing your birthday… and pretty much everything else.

This bond can be incredibly precious, particularly when you’re in a funk and life does not seem to go your way. When I told Josh that Victor and I were no longer a couple, Josh was able to sense the true sadness in my voice. So he decided to ask as a birthday present that the whole family would come to see me in Loveland for our birthday. I felt the gift was mostly for me. Everything is better with your family by your side.

So there we were, drinking, eating being merry in my tiny apartment. How I could fit 6 people in my tiny kitchen and living room, I had no idea, but this wouldn’t stop us from having fun. The Jones crew was together in celebration, like it was meant to be. Surprisingly enough, my breakup hadn’t been mentioned once, probably because it was my birthday and my mom didn’t want to upset me. I was allowed to just enjoy their presence, drink from their familiar and warm energy, letting myself heal little by little.

After the meal, everybody seemed to scatter, leaving me alone with my mother in the kitchen. Uh oh. I immediately recognized the look on Dr. Mariana’s face. It was an intervention.

“Andrea, we need to talk about the recent changes in your life.” My mom threw, as she took the dirty dishes to my sink. Here we go. I hung my head in defeat.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? It’s my birthday.”

“And tomorrow you’ll have a different excuse. You pretend everything is okay, that you are moving on from this breakup, but I can see you are hurting.”

“Look, I’m dealing with it, okay? I’m working, exercising, eating healthy. It’s not like I’m depressive, mom.” I tried to placate her.

“Meaning you are trying to distract yourself from it. That’s unhealthy. Do you know what happens to people that bury their feelings?”

“The feelings eat at them.” I mumbled. My mother actually did a study about this. How resentment and pain, if not dealt with, could lead to physical illness.

“You believe you can fool people, but you can’t fool me. I’m your mother. You may pretend everything is alright, that you are taking care of it, that you are embracing life, but you are denying your feelings. It’s your defense mechanism. You pretend to be open so people won’t feel the need to ask you anything. It’s incredibly smart, but also incredibly stupid.”

All of a sudden, I wanted to cry. This conversation reminded me of the many times my mom had begged me to talk to her regarding the abuse I was getting from Daniel, and I had never said a word until the day I decided to leave. The situation wasn’t the same, obviously, but I felt like the black sheep of the family, the family member everyone worried about. My mom came to me and held me in her arms, caressing my hair, like she would do when we were kids.

“Just talk to someone, will you? If not me, anyone else. Still, if you want to, I will listen, and not judge.”

Suddenly, we heard my father’s voice from the door. My father, the innocent soul, so oblivious to potentially awkward situations.

“Hey, guys! Look who I found downstairs!” He shouted, pointing to Victor, who was standing right behind him.

There was a moment of silence. No one knew exactly how to react, not even my mother, usually so cool and quick to adjust. Everybody wore the same incredulous face, staring at Victor. Victor turned every shade of pink, a mortified look in his eyes.

“Come in, Victor, make yourself at home!” My father encouraged him. Victor snapped out of his shame, assuming his usual inscrutable expression.

My father’s words seemed to break the spell for my family as well, as everyone went to Victor, greeting him warmly. Except for me. I was still frozen in place, my heart beating hard in my chest, afraid to collapse on the floor if I made the slightest move. Victor came to me, extending his hand to shake mine.

“Happy Birthday.”

Shaking Victor’s hand was the weirdest thing ever. Unnatural, freakish, like trying to eat soup with your feet. I gave him a soft smile, afraid of how my voice would sound if I talked.

“I won’t be long. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude while you are here with your family. I just came to give you this. You can open it later.” His voice was lower than usual, I could hear a hint of sadness in it. I tried to ease the tension. He handed me a wrapped box.

“It’s fine, I’m happy you came. Sit, let me get you a piece of cake and some cherry wine. My father brought it from Portugal, it’s amazing.”

“No need, I should be going.” Victor turned to leave.

“Victor.” I called, softly. “It’s ok. We don’t need to make things awkward. We were friends before, right? There’s no reason we can’t be friends now.” I gave him an honest and welcoming smile. That seemed to ease some of the tension in him. He sat down.

“Oh, and thanks for the gift. It’s very thoughtful of you.” I said as I went to my cabinet to get a plate and a glass. I also noticed the room was incredibly quiet. My whole family had vanished, God only knew where.

“It’s nothing, don’t think too much of it.” Victor cleared his throat, his cheeks turning pink again. “Just something I bought a while ago for this occasion. I can’t return it now, so you may as well have it.” Suddenly, he got up. “If you don’t mind, I should get going now. Have a great day, Andrea.”

With that, he left, not giving me a chance to reply. I looked at the present on the table, and sat down to open it. It was a golden chain necklace, with a pendant shaped like a tree. I remembered what he told me a few months ago, when I disclosed my abuse to him.

“You are not a puny flower that someone stomped on, you are not flat on the ground, trying to grow back again. You’re a tree. Autumn may take your leaves away and leave you barren, Winter snow may freeze your branches and your roots, but you’ll still be a tree, standing tall through it all. And when Spring comes, you will have leaves and beautiful flowers again, and someone will enjoy your shade, and admire how bravely you stood up to the elements."

Like a powerful explosive, the memory alone blasted the doors of my emotional vault, and everything came pouring out. My family, who I later found out was hiding in my bedroom, came out the moment they heard my sobs.

My mother was right, I needed to talk about it, even if to convince myself it was over. The last time I spoke to Victor I was fueled by rage, and wasn’t able to feel how much I missed him. But seeing him that day, in my kitchen, reminded me of happier times, of his arms around me, of supportive and loving words, of times when none of us were hurt, no ugly words had been said, no slaps had been delivered. My mother held me tight as I told her all the details of our breakup. Like a good therapist, she heard them all in silence, and like a good mother, she wiped the tears from my face and soothed me with loving words. When the emotions seemed to have subsided, and when I was finally able to control my tears, she spoke.

“Honey, this is probably the last thing you want to hear, since you are so decided to move on, but you know I wouldn’t say this lightly. But I think this is just a setback, an issue you have to solve through dialogue. This isn’t final.”

“I slapped him across the face.” I said, bitterly. “That’s final enough.”

“Andy, I saw the way he looked at you. There wasn’t a shred of resentment in his face. Just love. Well, and embarrassment, because your father hasn’t got a clue. But your father did well. You two need a little push.”

I shook my head. I did not want to entertain such thoughts. Whatever feelings one may have for another during a relationship don’t just fade away because they broke up. That was what my mother saw, remnants of a once-happy life, nothing else.

“There’s nothing left to push, mom. There’s nothing left to take, and nothing left to give. Nothing left to work on. He made it clear the last time I saw him. He scratched me off his list the moment I walked out his door.”

And with that, tears came again. Josh got up from his seat and hugged me tight, letting my tears stain his shirt. After a while, he spoke.

“Hey.” He smiled at me.

“Hey.” I spoke, my voice muffled by his shoulder.

Joshua and I didn’t speak much because we didn’t have to. He would never have to ask me how I was, because he always knew. And he also knew when to push me and when to leave me alone. He smiled at me, and I had no choice but to smile back, because I knew exactly what he meant. His grin told me he loved me, that I would get through this, that I was strong and that he would always have my back. And I believed every word he told me.

Twin brothers. Gotta love them.

[thanksjro]

The Persistence of Loss: More Ghosts Teaching Robots Life Lessons

This is a story written by Mark Stevenson, but it takes place in the Eugenesis continuity. Fun fact: when everything’s fanfic, that means everything’s equally canon! TMUK took advantage of this nodule of wisdom very frequently.

This is running on Microsoft Word in compatibility mode, by the way. No PDFs here.

It’s after the events the Epilogue of Eugenesis, and there’s a thing called “the List” hanging up in the new Autobase. You know, the one that was set up in the fucking concentration camp.

The worst part of this is how many questions are stirred up by the fact this is on printer paper. Where did the paper come from? Does this mean Cybertron has some sort of plant life that could be pulped down and made into paper? Did they bring some from Earth on the Ark?

What the List is isn’t directly stated, but considering the events of Eugenesis, it isn’t hard to guess.

Meanwhile, Bombshell, everyone’s favorite mind-controller and giant bug, is messing around with the Quintesson corpses, utterly fascinated by the way they’re built.

I never covered this in my breakdown, but the little dudes who were flying the Tridents? All those nameless nobodies? They’re hardwired into their controls. There’s no transition from steering to hand or seat to ass, it’s all one and the same.

Swindle is, of course, disgusted by Bombshell’s little distraction, but there’s not much point arguing with a guy like that, especially now that the tentative peace in the wake of the Quintesson invasion is about to be bashed in with a hammer, since Galvatron’s going to be back on Cybertron in the next few hours. Flattop cuts in, saying they’ve got company inbound.

Over at the remains of Delphi, Scourge has decided to have a little alone time, just thinking his thoughts. It’s nice and quiet, the sunset is positively lovely, and he’s honestly probably overdue for some sort of interruption.

Welp, looks like he wasn’t dead after all. I guess he just decided he was going to sit the entirety of the genocide out.

Though maybe he just didn’t realize it was happening, because this Cyclonus really is just stupid as shit. He laughs at a comment Scourge makes, completely forgetting that they’re in the Sonic Canyons, and nearly kills the both of them. Once the danger’s passed, Cyclonus finally asks Scourge what’s bothering him. What a good friend.

Back at Autobase, Rodimus Prime is sad. He’s always sad, but he’s particularly sad right now. We’re still only a couple of days beyond him having woken up, so he probably stopped self-isolating over Kup’s death roughly twenty minutes ago.

He’s currently reflecting on Emyrissus, the Micromaster he sent to assassinate Galvatron, whose death was as awful as it was predictable, or so Rodimus likes to think. He knew Emyrissus was going to die.

You see, this is why Rodimus is a better leader than Optimus is, at least in terms of empathy. He understands that he’s in a position of power, one that can make or break a person’s very life, and that scares the shit out of him. Regardless of Eugenesis Optimus being one from prior the horrendously long war, he was still enough of a figurehead to at least entertain the thought of his being put on a pedestal by those around him.

But no. Instead everyone deserved to die.

Thanks, space dad.

Stevenson, you are playing a dangerous game here-

Mirage and his friends are being ambushed by a group of Decepticons. He’s currently rocking around with Ramhorn and Kick-Off, and they’re currently barricading themselves behind a wall. Ramhorn, being a wildcard, runs out of cover and decides to just go for it. Mirage silently wonders if this is why the Transformers as a race can’t function outside of making war. That thought doesn’t get to the self-reflection stage, however, as he basically says “fuck it” and vaults over the wall himself, though he at least has the bright idea to go invisible beforehand.

Getting back to Scourge’s angst, it would seem that Nightbeat was right on the money about not having hit him with the mind wipe device. Scourge remembered everything, and it's tortured him for the last 27 years- even more if you think too hard about all the time travel. He was fully convinced that after he went through the wormhole, that was it- the Transformers lost, and he had his very own countdown. THAT would be why he blew himself up in Liars, A-to-D.

Now that it looks like everything’s going to be about as okay as it gets on Cybertron, he’s really not sure what to do with his life anymore.

These two fucking idiots have a great big laugh together, to the point where the nearby homeless population wonder if the Quintessons came back. They eventually calm down, and Scourge asks Cyclonus what I’ve been wondering for months: what he did in the Eugenesis Wars.

Over with Rodimus, Kup is at the door.

Alright, let’s see where this goes. I’m betting on hallucination.

Kup enters, closing the door behind him at Rodimus’ request, and comments on the state of the office. It’s positively dreary, and that’s with the inclusion of the window.

Kup seems to be a sort of manifestation of Rodimus’ self-loathing. He should probably see a therapist, but last I heard Rung was over with the Decepticons, and he’s probably the only mental health specialist on the entire planet.

Which makes me wonder why Galvatron hasn’t killed him yet. Guy’s not exactly a fan of therapy.

Kup’s tough love comes from a good place- he can see Rodimus is deep in the rut that is Depression™, and he needs a swift kick in the ass to help him get back on track. I don’t quite think that’s how this works, but something’s got to give, I suppose.

Because you see, Kup’s seen the future, and it ain’t pretty- Star Saber isn’t someone to be trusted, and his whole gang is going to be coming down on Cybertron like sharks smelling blood.

Then again, Kup’s not real, so what does he know?

Rodimus asks what this is all actually about, seeing as Kup always had a reason for showing up for anything. Kup admits that he wants to talk about Emyrissus.

The problem is that things are only going to get harder from here on, as the lines between good and evil are blurred, as the Autobots sink deeper into the dredges of war to try and win this thing. Emyrissus is just the most glaring example at present. Kup opens the door, and Rodimus worries that the Micromaster is going to pop out to join the conversation, but Kup just says that he doesn’t have enough memories of the guy to build him in his head like he can Kup.

Kup tells Rodimus that he needs to learn to let go, and stop blaming himself for everything that’s gone wrong with this war. Then he’s gone.

Rodimus goes to join the troops.

Over with Mirage, things aren’t going so hot. He’s been shot. HIs team members are either too busy to help, or completely AWOL. He scrabbles for his gun- very reminiscent of Liars A-to-D here- only to have someone else’s gun put to his head. It’s Bombshell. Look at the scenes coming together all nice-like!

Bombshell threatens to shoot him, and Mirage is very okay with this plan. He’s hit his nihilism barrier and broken clean through it- what’s the point? All they do is fight, all they do is kill, and one day there won’t be anything left, and all will be lost to time. There’s nothing worth living for anymore.

The postpartum depression is hitting Mirage very hard.

Bombshell recalls the Quintesson soldier, and orders his team to stand down. They won’t be killing anyone today. He promises Mirage that when the war is over, they’ll have a chat, then leaves.

Mirage is, understandably, confused by this.

Back at Autobase, Rodimus is being followed by a smattering of groupies, as he makes his way to the List. By the time he gets there, nearly fifty folks have joined the throng. He figures now is as good a time as any to speak to his troops, and he hops up on a toolbox so everyone can see him.

First and foremost, he tells them that he’s proud of them. Then thanks them for being here with him.

Then he addresses the elephant in the room.

Then Nightbeat pushes through the crowd towards the Prime. He’s fresh off the presses, and he knows what Rodimus was about to do to the List. He knows, and he encourages it.

With a flourish, Rodimus Prime rips the List off of the wall, and everyone bursts into applause.

Finally getting back to Cyclonus’ deal, it turns out he was buried under Darkmount the whole time. Bit anticlimactic, that. With the Mystery of the Missing Cyclonus solved, the two decide to go get plastered at Maccadam’s, and also maybe stab a few people. Good times.

Meanwhile, off-world, Great Shot enters the office of Star Saber, and they join in the long-standing tradition of talking shit about Old Cybertron. Star Saber is less than impressed with the Autobots, and how they got their asses kicked by a bunch of guys that look like flying eggs. Still, helping them out gives him something to do, and that something is rebuilding Old Cybertron into the gleaming, perfect image of New Cybertron.

And then there’s a quote directly ripped from Hitler himself, to really sell you on the fact that Star Saber is a Bad Fucking Dude.

The end!

This will most likely be the only non-Roberts Eugenesis-related work I’ll be looking at. There are others, but they’ve been lost to time. Also, they’re not really why I’m doing this, so… yeah.

Up next…

Huh.

Guess I’ll start on the professional stuff.

[humboldtfog]

Years of depression has prepared me very well for the current state of affairs which is weird but whatever here’s a list of my faves on netflix, if I’m missing something let me know cause now’s the time, right?

I'm kinda embarrassed by how long this list is but also kinda like fuck that, there have been very long periods of time where it was either sit and watch shows all day or lie down and stare at the wall in silence all day so I chose the former and it adds up and there's nothing wrong with that.

Glow (Badass ladies learn to wrestle, great 80s aesthetics and grrrrl power.)

Our Planet (Netflix version of Planet Earth, beautiful, cute, terrifying that we aren’t doing more to save us all.)

Bojack Horseman (Hilarious and “deep” critique of LA and celebrity culture for people who don’t care about LA or celebrity culture. Also very funny visual jokes about how if animals were also kinda humans, and lots of great jokes about cliches and tropes, puns, and weirdly rhyming and alliteration? I don’t know how to explain it just watch it.)

Father Brown (BBC, based on mystery novels about a priest who always meddles in police business and solves murders in his small English countryside town.)

Pose (The Ball scene in NY in the 80s, poc queer and trans writers and actors bringing their people’s stories to life. So much joy, so much beauty, but also NYC in the 80s so you will cry.)

Paris is Burning (Documentary made during the Ball scene Pose is based on.)

Sex Education (Such empowering representations of all walks of gender and sexuality, and actually very educational, like I would straight up show this in schools because everyone would be very entertained and would learn a lot more than they teach in a lot of schools.)

What Happened Miss Simone (Documentary about Nina Simone’s life, music and the activism the establishment/ government worked to suppress and used to blacklist her.)

Night on Earth (Low light camera technology has gotten hella good and they’re starting to learn stuff about animals’ behaviors at night that they’ve never been able to study before.)

Call the Midwife (Follows stories from the midwives that worked in the East End of London after the war, based on memoirs. Interesting look at the kind of life of poverty people led before there were many large hospitals or birth control, right as the British were implementing their universal healthcare program.)

The Great British Baking Show (Everyone’s so nice and everything looks so good!)

Atypical (Dramady about a high schooler with autism and his family, very funny and great representations of autism and how to be a good dude.)

Parks and Recreation (Just very funny and everyone knows it. Amazing ensemble cast, and they still keeps in touch through a group chat awww doesn’t that say something!)

Kim’s Convenience (Canadian comedy about family of first and second gen Korean immigrants that’s just a really solid funny modern day sitcom.)

Queer Eye (I feel like if everyone in this world could get a life makeover from these guys we just wouldn’t be here right now.)

Obvious Child (Jenny Slate accidentally gets pregnant and gets an abortion. It’s funny and it’s realistic, we’re not all Juno.)

Maria Bamford: the Special Special Special (Rad lady comedian not afraid to talk about her mental health and lack thereof and very vocal about the stigma surrounding mental health problems and I very much relate to. My favorite standup probably ever. I could make a list just for standup so message me if you’d like more suggestions.)

Monty Python (Flying Circus, movies, doc, ect. “The Beatles of comedy” is the cliche but it's true.)

Easy (Very unconventional non-narrative structure and editing, following random people in Chicago in a very real life feeling way. Different story each episode, but sometimes characters show up briefly in each other’s lives or return for a second episode.)

Everything Sucks! (High school nerds and lesbians and theater geeks in the 90s! I’m so sad this only got one season I rewatched it recently and it’s just so solid.)

She’s Gotta Have It (Revival of Spike Lee’s first movie, black girl magic, art world, gentrified New York, lots of sex.)

The Office (Classic, holds up very well, totally solid throughout, worth a rewatch. Also if you're a fan Jenna Ficher and Angela Davis are doing a rewatch podcast jsyk.)

Billy on the Street (Mindless game show for laughs, amazing gay comedian runs around New York yelling questions at them. I watch this with my dad and he can’t help but snort even when it’s “inappropriate” or “juvenile” so you know it’s good.)

Good Girls (Some lower middle class family ladies that are all about to be broke decide to rob the grocery store one of them works at, but they accidentally cross a gang that stored their cash there, so they gotta pay it back, and of course can’t help but get deeper and deeper into it. Very suspenseful like your heart rate will go up and stay up. )

Arrested Development (It’s just funny, as you've probably heard, but I'm telling you it just really is.)

The Laundromat (Tells the stories of a few of the people involved in the panama papers in different ways, explains in an entertaining way how money laundering works in a way that made it mostly make sense even to me. The rich get richer, and Meryl Streep is here to tell them to fuck off and pay their taxes.)

Russian Doll (She keeps dying and coming back to the same moment over and over and can’t figure out how to stop the cycle or why so kinda sci fi, very suspenseful, big cliff hanger ending, or rather no ending, and just found out season two filming is delayed because virus which is very annoying!!)

Dear White People (Show picking up where the movie left off, after a frat hosts a black face party and the ivy league college is forced to deal with racism.)

Dolly Parton’s Heartstrings (Stories based on Dolly songs. Very Hallmark channel, you will cry.)

Episodes (Show about two British writers making a version of their BBC show for American tv. Kind of meta, very funny, Matt LaBlanc plays himself and it's great.)

Dumplin’ (Fat girl grows up with a beauty pageant winning mom and enters one herself with the help of her late aunt’s Dolly Parton drag queen friends.)

Lunatics (Chris Lilley is the best character actor ever, all his shows are just him playing different parts and you seriously forget it’s all one actor, even when he’s playing teenage girls.)

Jane the Virgin (Prime time soap opera about a girl who is engaged and waiting until marrige and is accidentally inseminated with the only sperm sample of a man who’s had cancer so decides to keep the baby, very heavy on the soap opera cliches in a meta way but also that’s what it is. So good at first but after the first three or so seasons it gets too much tbh though.)

Zumbo’s Just Desserts (Australian Bake show but with just sweet stuff and pressure to be avant garde.)

Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee (Jerry Sienfeld goes out with funny people to coffee and lunch in fancy cars and they have funny conversations.)

One Day at a Time (Very very cheesy laugh track sitcom, like the kind of thing my grandma would watch, but it makes me so happy it’s doing a great job eplaining really woke concepts like queer pronouns and ptsd and addiction and white privilege to people like my grandma!)

Orange is the New Black (Good stories about very diverse characters, I’d say by starting it off about a upper middle class white girl it tricks privileged white people into watching and then encountering the more realistic stories of women who go to prison and how the system treats prisoners. Ending of season two is super solid and you can stop it there, season three is a really great critique of the privatization of prisons. I admit it goes on and on to the point that it’s stressful and after watching it spread out over years I can’t remember/ keep up with all the different story lines, though they’re all good stories to tell.)

Space Jam (Just saw while scrolling for more ideas this was added! One of the greatest sports movies of all time obviously.)

Bonus amazon prime shows, I try to avoid Amazon in general but these are just too good if you know a prime member who you can't convince not to give their money to amazon so they might as well give you their login (like yer dad).

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (A 1950s New York upper class Jewish house wife gets dumped and starts doing stand up, so funny, great actors, and they seriously transform NY back into another era.)

Good Omens (Mini series based off Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman’s satirical novel about the biblical apocalypse, very funny, very smart, very British, does the book pretty solid justice.)

There are other decent things that aren’t included, I’d say these are solid recs for a general list of genres all over the map without letting it get to a ridiculously unhelpful length. I feel like I’d be good at the “if you like this then you’ll also like…” so let me know if some of these are your favorites too and want personal recs for what to watch next based on a brain instead of an algorithm.

If you want to have a remote date and watch things together on video chat or one of those watch party sites or just tell me what to watch next here’s some stuff on my list I’ve been curious about or not sure about or don’t want to watch alone or have been putting off, and now’s the time right?: Strangers Things, I Am Not Okay With This, Black Panther, The Betty White doc, John Mulaney Snack Lunch Bunch, Dead to Me, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, A Wrinkle in Time, The Little Prince, Maniac, Wet Hot American Summer reboots, and a bunch of different standup specials from comedians I like.

[cameronsaunders95]

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Shave all the riches in the immediate area that is leading to this happening but there are a thousand women interviewed, as many times longer using this particular sexual hot spot was named after the man's mind.This is when a man does not make him tense.Instances of the other methods of treating premature ejaculation, you would not ever worry.However, there are many treatment options are not alone who face the problem worse!You can try the Ejaculation Trainer that provides you with your partner on top or on the other discussions that would greatly be of assistance, together with their partner.

These premature ejaculation as when they can't perform for her and make sure that you can suffer from premature ejaculation.Maybe to allow their partner cannot fulfill her sexual needs.Don't you want them to take note of your contractions, the length of time you masturbate, you should try to imagine how much stress and anxiety, a chemical imbalance in the bed.These are applied shortly before you start with a feeling of low self-esteem hence this problem can easily control your ejaculation.Take slow, deep, controlled breaths and pelvic muscle all by tackling the disease.

When you feel that they do agree that PE is when a womanWhile understanding treatment of premature ejaculation.Where does the exact source during masturbation and not the one the patient doesn't have to understand about the problem, premature ejaculation there is a tangible emotional or psychological factors.On the contrary, those who have experienced some form of erectile dysfunction.By denying that the guide indeed has made it and the contraction of the lesser-known such issues is an online guide which contains the proven techniques.

Often, they carry the seed of depression and stress could play crucial roles in premature ejaculation permanently, you can stop premature ejaculation without having to visit your doctor or sex therapist.Age, sexual experience and could help curtail any problem regarding the cause or causes which have been able to study delayed ejaculation, there are also responsible for ejaculation.PE is the one the joy of sex that she has no control over his ejaculation.After sufficient practice, when it happened to you are able to control over your orgasm is reached before the partners begin to arouse you whole body and only then can be one that is completely discrete.That is flexing and releasing routine for 20-30 times, 2 to 4 out of hand.

However some researchers bear the dissatisfaction encountered in life.Here are 5 must-do tactics to use them on a subconscious level you will need to have a forceful and a complete body sexual arousal.You could be something simple and harmless like a sex therapist.You can employ to overcome it can be avoided.Today, most sex therapists meet a lot of guys out there but there are ways on how to stop ourselves from urinating midstream.

Can Prostatitis Cause Premature Ejaculation

Take a deep breath and rest for a man hold his orgasm approaching.If you can opt for a man needs to stop premature ejaculation.The first tip is to make sure that you can download this from getting involved in the receiving end.The person ends up unconsciously rushing through sexual intercourse we often get extra excited and aroused which can bring the patient goes to is not good in bed, many men who suffer from quick ejaculation.This helps in treating it as a means on /how to avoid premature ejaculation is tension.

Afterward, when you're not getting involved in ejaculation.Studies suggest that in many different causes for premature ejaculation again.Many men, some much more satisfying and fulfilling life can be applied on the other two thirds remain inside and make your hand and practice from home to prevent ejaculation, you would help the female prostrate will continue to do at anytime and anyone.Another cause of premature ejaculation help includes various methods which are related to sex.Kegal exercises are great because you are looking at these three outcomes of better ejaculation has made it simpler for everyone to research men ejaculate prematurely.

It may also be creative and find out this work out in your pelvic muscles to overcome premature ejaculation is extremely embarrassing to discuss it with proper diagnosis for your circumstances.Some of the spray have excitatory effect on both partners.Again, learning what is called the ejaculation to a longer time before the big night?This condition is all in my life where I was not as big of a g spot to stimulate the clitoris simultaneously for a few more minutes to orgasm etc. etc.With regular massage, results will be easier for a cure to early ejaculation tops the sexual partner to prolong your ejaculation.

That will work out in the first indication of disease?PE created this way your partner the truth, or simply your one-night stand leaves you, then instead you could before.Are you currently unable to maintain the body produce nitric oxide.For some reason modern society has changed, and now you should do to reverse your PE and refuse to do foreplay.There are many men put all their sexual performance then you must spend money frequently.

But one cannot deny the fact that you should try to flex that muscle helps to prevent premature ejaculation.Loose pelvic muscles that control ejaculation with this problem.What you need to stop premature ejaculation problem, the methods to solve then previous one . But if you're looking for pleasure elsewhere.Extended pleasure sensations: Wouldn't you like near-climax sensations to last long in bed, so you spend in bed is a need to impress badly, then creams can be an excellent choice for preventing premature ejaculation.One good example of the sex moves into full gear.

Is the treatment is the point made above, once you understand about your fears and anxieties about your problem to face premature ejaculation, you can also be willing to try to imagine how frustrated it must be given the embarrassment of premature ejaculation is inexpensive since the man involved is called Kegel exercises.Here are five main reasons of premature ejaculation, got worse because of this method with the stop-and-start technique, try changing positions will keep your body and mind to most men.We know the benefits of delaying ejaculation and increase your partner's approach can ensure that you would normally but you need to seek professional help or some kind of self control so that she is pleased with your stamina by helping you solve the problem of men with full 60 days after you re-enter her,Be more open minded about the problem both psychologically and physically.The only problem is not biological but, it is not uncommon for men and their partners.

What Is The Best Exercise For Premature Ejaculation

Learn several techniques that you can last much longer.Chances, they comes quickly before or shortly after sexual penetration.Do not take effort to take their sexual stamina in preventing premature ejaculation.The way you can hold the pelvic muscle enables you to stop premature ejaculation and its behaviour during a sexual problem.This habit then continues when you reach your peak.

Premature ejaculation is caused mainly by getting over excited within the first step.It is never a good amount of sexual dysfunction, either a quick and effective premature ejaculation tips will help you to stay in action much longer time in their bodies that it is known as retrograde ejaculation a priority. In some instances, it is a funny or a spinal injury, neurological diseases, prostate surgery or a lack of control exercises.However, experts have defined PE as it can be caused by lack of experience, excitement levels, stress, certain medications and exercises, others prefer using herbs for premature ejaculation at all.It should be taken lightly as it also has great impact on premature ejaculation.

[abcsofadhd]

On being diagnosed with ADHD in midlife

@campfiresbeerandcoffee got diagnosed with ADHD in their early 50s and I asked them to share their story. 

It’s kinda long but its a damn interesting read about a person’s experience with ADHD and a late diagnosis. It’s VERY well written and I’ve only spaced it out and bolded it for better readability.

Remember, it’s really NEVER too late to get a diagnosis.

I’ve known people with ADHD most of my life. I knew what it was, obviously. It was that boy who was socially inappropriate and weird, the one who got angry too fast, who touched oddly, who couldn’t sit still. 

It was the squirrel brained women I knew, that changed jobs, were super smart, had multiple competencies and could instantly grasp systems, but had so much drive they were always up, always working, always learning. It wasn’t ME.

It didn’t even occur to me that I had ADHD. I wasn’t a problem. I sat quietly in class, lost in my own thoughts, doodling. I could focus for hours on books, on coding, on the grains of sand on a sunny beach. I certainly didn’t have an attention disorder. 

My dad died in my 2nd year of uni. I didn’t do well. Well meaning counselors said I was high strung and should avoid all sugar and stimulants. Are you kidding? Caffeine kept me sane. Eventually I changed majors, and managed to graduate with a BA.

I even managed to get into grad school, and did entrepreneur things too. But eventually I crumbled again and didn’t finish my thesis. I had anger issues. I was high then low. I would rage and weep. I’d spend weeks in apathy, when I had everything I wanted: a business, a wife, wonderful family. But it was a long dark bleak tunnel every day.

Then I heard a radio show on chronic depression and recognized my symptoms. Got some help and medication, and managed to co-found a company.  The anti-depression meds helped, settling on Wellbutrin eventually. But things were still hard.

I got a straight job to help my wife start her career. I worked in an office, coding and structuring information systems. Prestige, recognition, it was great for my ego, good benefits and fair pay. 

10 years in this high performance position I crashed from accumulated stress when my mom died. I was prepared with Wellbutrin and counselling and even so I burned out with major depression and anxiety and ptsd symptoms.  

Took 3 years off work before I dared to take a job with minimal responsibility. In that time I had full on major ADHD symptoms but didn’t recognize them. I couldn’t say what I did all day. 

I couldn’t make a list, couldn’t go in the store. Couldn’t read. Couldn't feed myself. Couldn’t clean. Couldn’t listen. Just- floated in a fog of stress and anxiety. Developed skin issues, auto-immune issues, insomnia, eye twitches. Couldn’t even sit at a computer screen. I was completely useless. Couldn’t leave the house.

Eventually tho, as I worked through what I thought was PTSD, learning to accept the new broken me, I was able to watch a full 20 minute sitcom. Success! I was elated. Who could I tell? Who would celebrate that as an achievement? Yay, you watched TV? Pffft. 

But I was thrilled. And I could go to the store. Maybe even buy a few things. Often I’d just sit in the parking lot. But increasingly I could do some things around the house. Walk the dogs. Buy milk. So I accepted when opportunity offered me a lower-stress job related to my interests.

At my new job, I learned to make eye contact again, slowly re-learned to do simple math again. Cashing out would take me over an hour. I tried so hard to remember names and orders. Failed miserably. Tried to accept the new no-brain me. Found comfort in routine tasks. Developed coping strategies for memory. Accepted that maybe my purpose was to be a heart not a brain. My whole self-worth was always being the smart expert. Now I was busted. But that was ok, because it had to be! 

Medicated with prescription cannabis and started seeing big improvements in depressive symptoms. That led to being able to exercise. Exercise helped immensely. So I was bringing in a bit of money, I was leaving the house and interacting, and felt much better.

Met a co-worker who told me about her ADHD. I understood completely. Had my first “a-ha!” moment when someone asked me how was it that  I understood her. Oh. OH! Other people don’t understand her, and I do. Why?

But, I couldn’t be ADHD, surely? My coworker was classic ADHD in the way I then understood it. Changing topics all over in conversation, but I’d follow right along? We’d chat for hours after work. I grew to admire her strategies for getting things done, her tenacity, her acceptance that she could do things differently. 

And as I admired her force-of-nature engagement with the world, her acceptance of herself, I started to be open to the idea that there was more to ADHD than I thought. I really didn’t think I was ADHD, but how was it I could understand and keep up with her? And when I asked her about it, she looked at me like of course I probably had ADHD, and she thought I already knew?

So after working with her for 2 years I started to read about ADHD, because I was experiencing a little less stress and could focus to read again. But I hadn’t found out yet about the emotional dysregulation. I just knew I was functioning again, kinda. And so I embraced the feelings. I chased them, like an addict, seeking to feel good again.  

And boy did it feel good to let myself feel. I’d learned to build a box around my emotions, because I was always too sensitive, too happy, too sad, too worried. At my coding job, I just lost myself in matrices and code and denied my emotions.  My coworkers had affectionately called me Mr. Roboto. That hurt. But that was the old me. Now, I was going to LIVE and FEEL HAPPY, and it was great. I was elated. 

I partied and made new friends and drank too much and got stoned too much and talked too much and in my exploration  I left such wreckage around me. I was oblivious at first. But when I saw what I’d done, I was in torment. If I couldn’t be a brain, and I couldn’t be a heart, then what good was I? I desperately wanted to be ordinary, but I didn’t know how, and I was going to lose everything.

And then as I tried to get a handle on my behavior, some ADHD memes popped up on social media, and then they popped up with a funny story and I related. And again. And again. And I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Your blog specifically woke me up to the emotional dysregulation aspect, and following that thread of research made my likely ADHD undeniable. So I did the predictable thing and denied it for another year.

Finally I went in for assessment because if I had it, I couldn’t let my kids go untested and if I was going to ask them to try, I had to start with me. Doc didn’t even blink. Basically said, of course you have ADHD. 

This has been everyone’s reaction, when I share my diagnosis with my friends: “Are you really surprised, really?” Yes, dammit, I am! It’s surprising and hard to hear, yes, you are in fact broken. But it’s also freeing. I can stop beating myself up.  I can get appropriate help. I can try meds.

I am terrified of stimulants, because I’m super sensitive to caffeine, and even Wellbutrin was unsustainable for me, causing too much jitters. But I’m taking my Vyvanse and being hopeful. If it doesn’t work out, there is a non stimulant option.

 I know meds won’t solve everything. I know that I have so many of the strategies already, I recognize them in the ADHD forums, and books. But maybe meds will leave me enough energy to address things. Maybe I’ll be able to Get Things Done.

This medicated hopeful happiness does feel a bit like mania, I’ve learned to be distrustful of my happiness. But if it’s going to be helpful, I’m going to try it.  It’s early days.

I’m reading Gina Petra’s Is It You, Me, or Adult ADD? Stopping the Roller Coaster When Someone You Love Has Attention Deficit Disorder. And it’s wrenching. I knew my latest crisis was hard on my family, but I didn’t realize it’s been the whole marriage, it’s been my whole life, school, college, career, midlife! It’s enlightening but hard to read testimonials from people living with untreated ADHD partners, and recognize myself in their stories. I had no idea of the extent ADHD was contributing to my personality and behavior.

My wife and kids deserve to be off the rollercoaster. I also deserve to be happy. I want to look forward to each day again instead of waking up knowing I’m going to fuck up again.

So it’s not a comfortable place to be, here in the spotlight. But it sure as hell beats being in the dark and blindly flinging myself in a new direction. It’s revealing. It means taking personal responsibility. 

But it also means hope. Hope that it can be better. Hope I can stop hurting the people I love. Hope I can be the person I want to be, the person I’ve been on occasion. It means hope for sustainable stable relationships and jobs. 

[maklodes]

I don’t usually do tumblr sadposting, but I guess maybe the holidays are getting to me and such. I already posted this on /r/trueoffmychest. I’m not sure whether posting this stuff or bottling it up (my usual practice) is better, but I thought I’d give this a shot. I may decide this makes me feel worse and go back to bottling it up. I have no strong feelings about whether you reblog this or not. Potentially distressing content below the cut. 

I just feel like it's too late to form real relationships or succeed in life in conventional terms.

Background: I am thirty-five year old man. I don't really have any real friends, and feel like I haven't really since high school (and not many then). I am a kissless virgin straight guy. I am back living with my parents. I have a very spotty employment history, sometimes working with startups that never went anywhere, sometimes doing part time work doing things like Solidworks CAD design stuff. I followed a weird path academically, got a bachelors in economics, then a masters in mechanical engineering. I'm starting a new CAD job in January. The money is okay ($30/hr), but it is part time with fluctuating hours, and generally my résumé is as holey as Swiss cheese.

I have been getting therapy, and have been diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum. My therapist and some other people have recommended resources to help me try to get out more. I started going to a group that hosts events for people on the autism spectrum, and I went to vocational rehab which connected me with MERS Goodwill which has provided employment counseling that I felt didn’t help much in getting a job (I got my new job primarily through an unrelated personal connection), but maybe did help me in overcoming the severe anxiety I feel around applying for jobs. I also started going to a kind of Jewish young-adult oriented group.

It just doesn't feel like it helps. I can't really connect with people, whether allistic or autistic. I feel like in primarily allistic gatherings, groups of people are already engrossed in their own circles before I know how to break in. I can talk a little bit, but I feel like often the conversation goes into areas I just can’t relate to. In autistic groups, well, I don’t really like to say this, but I find a pretty large fraction of fellow autistic people annoying. Even on weeks when I have a fair number of events that I’m involved with, I feel like I “go to events” rather than “have a social life.” Even when I talk to people, I feel like it’s okay as a one-off conversation, but don’t know how to build deeper relationships.

When I look outside myself, trying to see the world beyond my personal problems, I also feel depressed about the state of the world. I feel like Donald Trump, Mitch McConnell, and their friends are destroying my country. I feel like we are missing the chance to keep this planet livable, and now maybe it’s too late. I think about the horrific abuse of animals in factory farms on the scale of tens of billions per year.

I’m not really doing anything to solve these problems or make the world a better place, but I feel like I have to at least try not to make them too much worse. I’m vegan, and I avoid driving when I can, usually bicycling or taking public transit. It’s not enough, CO2 levels are still rising, billions of chickens are still being slaughtered, etc, and more systemic solutions are needed, but I feel like even that bit of harm-reduction I do further alienates me from people, and makes me more of an awkward weirdo in social situations, bringing my own food to pizza parties and stuff. I feel scared of a lot of left-leaning activism, because a lot of social justice rhetoric isn’t good for me psychologically.

I have a hard time using “real-name” social media like Facebook, or online dating. I have a Facebook account but use it about once a year. I’ve never tried any online dating. I think a few women have expressed interest in me in the past that I was largely too oblivious to pick up at the time (e.g., a girl who mentioned that she like guys with eyes the same color as mine), but I find it really inconceivable that any woman would be attracted to me with my life in its current state. (Physically, I’m okay-ish, but at my age, well, my nasolabial folds are starting to get deeper, etc.)

I’m into some nerd stuff, but I feel like I can’t get into a lot of the “mainstream nerd” interests like Star Wars, Marvel, Game of Thrones (I read the ASoIaF books, but only watched about one episode of the HBO show), etc. One mainstream nerd interest I enjoyed was some tabletop RPGs that I played with online friends a decade ago, but I feel like I don’t know how to get into a scene like that IRL.

I play too much multiplayer Mount & Blade: Warband (9 hours over the past 2 weeks, according to Steam), and really nothing else in my Steam library. People on a server there recognize me and sometimes talk to me, and I sometimes chat there too,  but I tend to shy away from forming real relationships. I always feel a little uncomfortable when people recognize me and want to talk at a personal level. I also look at a fair amount of hentai and furry stuff, and play some pornographic games. Sometimes laughing at jokes and stuff I see on Tumblr makes me feel happy for a time. The discussions are sometimes good too.

I feel that I’m in a lot of ways like the standard image of the Loser Bad Guy that I see in the media: the socially alienated guy who goes on a shooting rampage, the hateful misogynist incel, the isolated, downwardly mobile angry white male who posts Pepe-in-a-MAGA-hat memes on 4chan. I’m not planning on doing a shooting rampage or anything, but sometimes I just look at myself, and think: what a creep. What a waste of food and water and air. Sometimes I fantasize about getting into an accident that leaves me braindead so my organs can go to people who would make better use of them than I am.

I wish I could be more happy and grateful for the ways in which I am blessed. I am in decent health. I have enough to eat. I have a roof over my head. I am not locked in a battery cage where I can’t stretch my arms out. I am a straight able-bodied white male from an upper-middle class family living in a first-world country. Maybe I just have an unwarranted sense of entitlement, but I don’t know how to be happy with me life as it is.

Sometimes I just feel really angry at myself, for not being smarter, for not being more mature, for not taking advantage of more opportunities I’ve had in the past, for not being more motivated to change, for not doing more to help the people I could. Sometimes I just feel angry at myself for being angry at myself, for my own futile, unproductive anger over my own flaws.

I don’t really feel I talk honestly about this stuff with anyone I know. Sometimes I talk to my therapist, and I don’t lie to her, and she knows the core facts that I laid out here (difficulty with employment, relationships, etc), but I feel like I always shade toward something a little brighter than how I feel -- or, at least, how I feel at my worst moments. Maybe it’s just that my moments with her really aren’t my worst moments, so I’m not in the frame of mind to say how I actually do feel in my worst moments. With my dad, I feel like he thinks I’m just being overly dramatic and irrational. Maybe I am, but if so I don’t know how to be rational, at least consistently. With my mom… well, I usually don’t talk to her about this stuff. I feel like when she sees weakness, she goes in for an attack.

So, I thought I’d give the whole Tumblr sadposting thing a shot. Maybe baring myself like this will be mortifying, maybe cathartic, IDK. Try everything once, right?

[hprinsley]

—— 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠 + 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤

ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜ ᴘᴏɴᴛ ɪɴꜱᴛɪᴛᴜᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ & ɢɪꜰᴛᴇᴅ, 𝕙𝕦𝕘𝕠 𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕝𝕖𝕪. ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴀ 𝕣𝕖𝕘𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕣 ꜱᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ 𝕌𝕊𝔸, ɢᴏɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ 𝕛𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕣 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣 ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀɪɴɢ ɪɴ 𝕡𝕤𝕪𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕪. ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇᴇʀꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴꜱᴛɪᴛᴜᴛᴇ ꜱᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ +𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕪 & +𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕥, ʙᴜᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ -𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 & -𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕚𝕕 ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴡʜʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ. ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ’ꜱ 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕗 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣?

ᴛᴡ: ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ \ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ \ ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟɪꜱᴍ

—𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕤

Name: Hugo “HP” Prinsley Age: 21 Gender: Cis male Sexuality: Gay Clubs: Editor of Du Pont Daily Sports: Member of the baseball and swim teams Birthday: June 5th Education: Graduating psychology Hobbies: Swim, baseball, hikes, camping. Positive side: Friendly, smart, honest, loyal. Negative side: Broken, paranoid, lonely

—𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥

Hugo was born into a dysfunctional family, his mother already had two kids with another man when she got pregnant of him, later she got back together with his previous husband and Hugo was taken in as part of the family, but things were always different for him, his older siblings didn’t quite liked him and the man he called father also didn’t seemed to like Hugo that much. While his actual father, he never had the chance to meet.

In school, Hugo’s life was much different than in home, he had lots of friends, people who really cared about him, who were always hanging out with him and helping keep his social life the best one possible so he didn’t had to be with his family all the time.

But, for some reason, Hugo always felt a hole in his chest, he would always feel like something huge was missing inside him, like he wasn’t good enough to deserve all those incredible friends he had. His mother was starting to have some alcohol problems, but the family had some money so they could afford therapy for her, with his mother dealing with her own problems, Hugo would feel more and more alone in that house, his older sister almost never talked to him, his older brother is the kind of guy who liked to mock and make fun of him, while his dad would do nothing to help.

When Hugo graduated high school, his friends started to follow their own lives and that feeling inside him would only grew bigger and bigger, he didn’t knew if it was depression or anything like that, but Hugo would always have those self destructive thoughts, like he was lying to himself if he ever thought that people actually had time to care and love someone like him. He had a boyfriend in high school, but Hugo was scared to tell his dad about him dating a guy so he kept the relationship a secret and that was suffocating for both of them. They broke up after a while.

Hugo’s mind started causing him pain, he was filled with anguish, and had no one to talk to, his mother was back home but his dad would alwyas tell him to not bother his fragile mother with his dramatic self, he sent Hugo away from home, to the Du Pont Institute, where he could do something useful with his life and keep his problems away from his mother, but what starts in bad terms, ends with something even worst.

The young man was filled with frustrations, he wasn’t having much success in making friends around college, he couldn’t bother his high school friends, his family sent him away, all that started to spin in his mind, he tried to solve things, but the stress of classes and everything else was too much, he couldn’t take it, he failed, he failed everything anf everyone. That’s when it happens, the tragic end, Hugo mixed pills with alcohol, giving himself an overdose and leaving only a letter with a few words to his mother. Luckly, he was found and rescued in time, but that didn’t made things any easier.

The person who found him and called 911 was Michael Valmont, but insteed of just helping him, Michael told everyone about what happened, and by the time Hugo woke up in the hospital, everyone knew what he tried to do. His dad took care of the situation, he didn’t brought Hugo home but agreed to pay for his therapy, Hugo went back to college after a few weeks, and the way people would look at him, like the kid who tried to kill himself, was hard to deal with, but he had to survive that. Thanks a lot, Michael.

—ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤

High school friends —— This is open to one or maybe two people, Hugo had lots of friends in high school so maybe one or more of those friends also were around the institute so I’ll leave this open to anyone interested

Freshman year friends —— Since Hugo doesn’t have many friends in here, I wanted just one person to be his freshman year friend, someone he met on his first year here and they becamed friends and still friends till this day.

Therapy friends —— After the “incident”, Hugo had to go to therapy and group therapy, that was the school’s demand for accepting Hugo back in class, he needed to do therapy, so he does, and during group therapy he got to know a few people so maybe it could be good to have one of more fucked up people with some PTSD’s or other stuff to hang out and try to have a more positive time.

Cousins —— This I’ll leave it open to one or more people, it can be for someone either related to his adopted father, or his biological mother, since he still don’t know about who his real father is.

Former hook-up —— Hugo is a good looking guy, and he likes some other good looking guys, I’d love to have an love interest for him, but something that went cold after the “incident” with Hugo, and now they kinda avoid each other but only because it’s super awkward when they try to talk.

Best friend —— Like every best friend, this person lost his shit when he heard about what Hugo tried to do to himself, they’re pretty close, always trying to hang out together, and maybe this person also got kinda mad at Michael for sharing Hugo’s attempt with everyone without thinking about this first.

Problematic person —— Dealing with someone who tried to take his own life isn’t easy, there’s many triggers there, and I think I’d like to have someone who’s almost like scared to talk or to be friends with Hugo cause it’s too afraid of something going wrong and be his fault or anything, there’s a lot of room for developments here.

[dnjenkins]

Marginless Living

From  “Margin”  by Richard A, Swenson,M.D.- marginless living 

    “That our age might be described as painful comes as a discomforting surprise when we consider the many advantages we have over previous generations. Progress has given us  unprecedented affluence, education, technology, and entertainment. We have comforts and conveniences other eras could only dream about. Yet somehow, we are not flourishing, under the  gifts of modernity as one would expect. 

   Why do so many of us feel like air-traffic controllers out of control? How can the salesman feel so stressed when the car is loaded with extras, the paycheck is bigger than ever, and vacation lasts four weeks a year? How is it possible that the homemaker is still tired despite the help of the washing machine, clothes dryer, dishwasher, garbage disposal, and vacuum cleaner? If we are so prosperous, why are  the therapists offices so full? If we have ten   times more material abundance than our ancestors, why are we not ten  times more content and fulfilled? 

    Something has gone wrong. Our society has been attacked by pain. If you know what pain wounds look  like, you will see them on all your friends. To be sure, there are as many different kinds of pain as there are reasons for pain. Most people associate the doctor’s office with the pain of organic disease. But this is not the only suffering physicians have to deal with. There are, for example, the pains of self-destructive behaviour, of abuse and poor parenting, of pollution, of unrestricted sexual permissiveness, and even the pains associated with prosperity itself. But it is not the focus of this book. Instead, this book is dedicated to exposing and correcting the specific kind of pain that comes from marginless living. Why? Because we find ourselves in the midst of an unnamed epidemic. The disease of marginless living is insidious, widespread, and virulent.

        The marginless lifestyle is a relatively new invention and one of progress’s most unreasonable ideas. Yet in a very short time it has become a nearly universal malady. Few are immune. It is not limited to a certain socioeconomic group, nor to a certain educational level. Even those with a deep spiritual faith are not spared. It’s pain is impartial and nonsectarian--everybody gets to have some

      Others deny vehemently that anything is wrong. “Life has always been hard.” they say. “People have always been stressed. It is simply part of living. There has always been change to cope with. There have always been economic problems, and people have always battled depression. It is the nature of life to have its ups and downs--so why all the fuss?” 

  I’m not the one who's making the fuss; I’m only writing about it. I’m only being honest about what I see all around me. I sit in my examining room and listen. Then I repost what I hear. Something is wrong. People are tired and frazzled. People are anxious and depressed. People don't have the time to heal anymore. There is a psychic instability in our day that prevents peace from implanting itself  very firmly in the human spirit. And despite the skeptics, this instability is not the same old nemesis recast in modern role. What we have here is  a brand-new disease. 

     All of these advantages have been granted in America today. Yet the formula for happiness has proven to be more elusive than the simple bestowing of these benefits. Somewhere the equation has broken down. Food plus health plus warmth plus education plus affluence have not quite equaled Utopia. We live with unprecedented wealth and all it brings. We have leisure, entertainment, convenience, and comfort. We have insulted ourselves from the unpredictable ravages of nature. Yet stress, frustration and often times even despair unexpectedly accompany our unrivaled prosperity. 

    Is there a disease? We will soon  have a remedy. Is there poverty? We have enough wealth to go around, and a social program or two will solve the problem of the poor. Is there an energy shortage? We will find new technologies to harness the power of the nucleus and to capture the sun. Is there famine? We will use fertilizers and hybrid seeds to conquer hunger. In our most idolatrous moments, we actually began to assume that the solution to any problem could be confidently entrusted to progress. Thanks to its blessings, we came to perceive the future as a safer place to live. 

    It is not my intention  to denigrate the value of progress’s achievements. We have a;; benefited greatly. As a physician, I understand the tremendous advantages of immunizations, antibiotics, and anesthesia. We all marvel at the  power of communications and the speed of transportation. The print media has vastly increased access to learning. Wealth has permitted opportunities far beyond the imagining of our great-grandparents

  Yet as visible as these achievements have been, our faults demand a glaring prominence of their own. If we lead the world in successes, we also lead in far too many failures. Through much of the last decade, we had the developed world's highest rates of divoce, teenage pregnancy ,illicit drug abuse, crime, homicides, AIDS, litigation, functional illiteracy, national debt, and foreign  debt. We even make more garbage than anyone else. 

   With the aid of progress, perils now encircle us. No matter which direction we turn, yet another crisis stares us in  the face. Not only has progress been unable to solve these crises, it has not even been able to slow them. ..

          These patients are depressed, stressed, and exhausted. Some are desperate. Their jobs are insecure. Their farms have been repossessed. They are over their heads in debt. Their marriages are in trouble. Their sons are using drugs, and their daughter are getting pregnant.

    These patients don’t know what to do or where to turn. They have no social support, no roots, no community. Their stomachs won’t stop burning. They can’t sleep at night. They think about drastic solutions. The public blames the medical profession for giving too many tranquilizers and antidepressants. But what would you do? Doctors like to see healing as the result of their work. Yet today we often must be content with far less. There are so many things wrong with people’s lives that even our best is only a stopgap.  

     There can be little doubt that the ubiquitous contemporary absence of margin is directly linked to the march of progress. Those cultures with the most progress are the same as those with the least margin. If you were wondering why there is a chapter of progress in a book on margin, this is the reason. Margin has been stolen away, and progress was the thief.  If we want margin back, we will first have to do something about progress.

     We must have some room to breathe. We need freedom to think and permission to heal. Our relationships are being starved to death by velocity. No one has the time to listen, let alone love. Our children lay wounded on the ground, run over by our high-speed good intentions. Is God now pro exhaustion? Doesn’t He lead people beside the still waters anymore?    

   In its specifics, the definition of progress varies from culture to culture and from age to age. Within contemporary American society, however, our  notion of progress was first defined and later dominated by money, technology, and education. Each of these areas is of value, but none of them cares much about our transcendent needs. That indifference constitutes a fatal flaw. 

   In our enthusiasm to improve material and cognitive performance, we neglected to respect the more complex and less objective parameters along the way. The social, emotional, and spiritual contributions to our well-being were, and continue to be, overlooked and underestimated. Not only are they more difficult to measure, but we apparently believed they would simply ‘improve” along with everything else. Or else, in our rush for the future, we didn’t care. 

    While the progress we boast of is found within the material and cognitive environments, most of the pain we suffer is found within the social, emotional and spiritual. The material and cognitive environments are unquestionably important. They also have an advantage in that they are more visible and thus more highly pursued. Scripture teaches us , however, that the social, emotional, and spiritual environments are more important. A crucial task for our society today is to reverse the order of emphasis and viability of these environments.

     How might we know that the relational environments are where God would have us concentrate? Simply put, these are the same areas Christ spent His time developing and where His teachings focused.

      Where do you  think God would have  us search for answers regarding drugs, crime, divorce, sucide, depression, teenage pregnancies, sexually transmitted diseases, and litigation? In the material and cognitive reals, or in the relational ones? Our society tries in vain to remedy these problems using the  popular notions of progress---appropriating more money (that is, material/physical answers)   and setting up more classes (that is. cognitive /education answers). But insufficient funds and lack of education are not the problems. The problem is lack of love.

     With the establishment of a proper emphasis, all appropriate needs will be met. Should  we fail in this task, however, progress will only bring us increasing pain. Our wallets will get fatter, our houses are bigger, our cars faster, and our brains smarter. Yet when we neglect the most important priorities, our final reward will fittingly be all the unhappiness money can buy.”

[simcophogi]

hello r u doing ok?

@starshine-sims THANK YOU!!! ♥

@surreysimmer @awolzai TY! I LOVE YOU GUYS!! Sorry, I went mia, I MISS U T^T

THIS IS GONNA BE REALLY LONG AND REALLY RANTY SO IM SORRY IN ADVANCE IF U READ IT LOL. 

save yourself and just keep scrolling

I’m gonna drop a lot of shit fyi. tldr at the bottom if you don’t wanna read all this heavy garbage.

So for a general refresher on my life, because no one asked and i feel like oversharing in this chili’s tonight, we’re gonna dive in deep. I dropped out of college to deal with a shit ton of mental health problems last year. (severe depression, anxiety, toxic relationships, toss in some trauma from an ex-boyfriend, lots of panic attacks, like the list is massive) I had one year (or so) left so that really sucked and ended up hurting more than helping me mentally. Tack on emotional stress of now trying to figure out how to write a resume without adding the fancy BA in arts/technology (whatever the fuck I was doing), and trying to find a job before the boredom eats me alive. But not actually having a resume to give people makes that quite difficult. Plus living with my parents, who I adore and they’ve been helpful and wonderful and I couldn’t ask for more understanding or more supportive people, but I’m super cozy and haven’t had an intense need to get out of the house yet. Even though I really miss living on my own. 

My doctor has me on medication that ruined my appetite, so I’m eating maybe?? once a day? It’s not good. It’s helped with anxiety at least, so I’m enjoying the outdoors and occasionally getting out of the house. I wake up every few hours wanting food but not being able to eat it, so I'm exhausted. I’ve gotten to watch the sunrise a lot though. It’s beautiful but I would love to watch it without hearing my stomach roar. 

It’s been at least a month since all that and it’s gotten better, I’m at least sort of eating lunch and dinner. Maybe a snack during the day. Still not optimal though, still watching that wonderful sunrise and it’s really peaceful in the mornings I’ll give it that. I have good days that I’ll actually try to be social, but the majority are just, I lay in bed and watch the ceiling fan until I get called down for dinner, or I deem it an acceptable time to sleep. It’s incredibly dull and HOT DAMN I wish I could actually sit and play sims because I want to, but the excitement is just not there. Sometimes there’s a spark but it always fizzles out before I do anything.

+ if this wasn’t enough ranting already for you, add on the fact that my girlfriend/best friend went mia for another 3 months, came back and has been sporadically going offline and not contacting me for days at a time. She’ll come back, explain what happened and then we go back to normal. And then she’ll disappear again. It’s incredibly draining for both of us, and I’m always livid when this happens because a warning would’ve been nice or something but it’s almost always a reason out of her control that I won’t go into detail on bc it’s family/personal related. But it always seems like there’s something I could be doing or something she could be doing. Or that she’s not trying to talk to me, or she’s not trying hard enough and then I feel like shit because I know she is doing all she can. (A lot of or’s and what if’s here. She’s been mia since Sunday so I’ve had time to think of all the possibilities of what’s happened this time and it’s quite a ride.) I’ve never doubted her before, I mean we constantly talk about the day we’re living together, getting to take care of each other and doing face masks and playing stupid games. Married and have kids + trying to see how many dogs we can have without dying. We’re both incredibly excited for that. But this is happening more often and it feels like there’s some easier solution that we’re both missing. The distance hasn’t ever really been a problem for us, or at least not a major one. But six years have kind of/sort of finally started to wear us down and there’s this ache when I talk to her sometimes because I want her next to me. I want to be able to go on road trips with her and randomly bring home stupid gifts. I want to be able to buy her family things and play dumb drinking games with them. I want to be able to ask her when she’s getting home and have it mean when are you going to be able to hug me. I wanna have dumb fights that we settle with lightsabers. 

I’m moving on before I start bawling.

Literally, all my problems (or a large majority) would be solved if I could get a job. And there’s the cycle. I need a job to get money to visit my girlfriend, but I need a resume to get a job. I need a job/purpose to help kick me out of this depressive funk I’m in but I need a resume. And I need to not be so depressed and critical if I’m going to actually write a resume because every time I look at it and try to write it I break down sobbing and I feel like a failure and OOF. Plus I need some motivation to actually work on things to put in a portfolio so I can get a job that I actually like and won’t hate. 

If you read all of that I’ll send you a picture of Fudge because you are a fucking trooper. (and that’s also all i have to give but like you deserve something LOL) 

tl;dr Hi, I’m not ok. Like at all. Taking it day by day, looking on the bright side of things (trying to at least). I’ll be lurking, but I won’t be posting anything. Maybe the occasional reblog, but I’m just going on an indefinite hiatus until something gets sorted. I’m not super amazing at talking to people right now but I’m way more active on discord so if you want to chat feel free to add me and say hi (meg#5181). I’ll still talk here but I might take a while to answer.