#I’m caught in one of those logic loops rn

[ohno-the-sun]

Sol

[artificialqueens]

Stagnant (Taywhora) - pureCAMP

A/N - I keep wanting to write some fun diamond chaney stuff but rn I’m going through some shit so I have created angsty taywhora. You’re so welcome <3

Love isn’t supposed to taste sour. Love isn’t supposed to go off, like opened milk left in the fridge too long. When love breaks down, it should be explosive and intense, because logically, scientifically, all that energy has to go somewhere. Atoms, molecules, chemicals, matter can be created but not destroyed and all of that. It’s physics. All of that love, that energy, has to be channelled somewhere, so it should be channelled into a bright flame, severing any bonds as the energy dispels.

It shouldn’t just… be like this. Like a tiny hole in a balloon, slowly and silently deflating rather than the sudden, heart-stopping pop. Like that moment where you take the bottle of milk from the fridge, take a whiff, and sort of wrinkle your nose. Because it’s vaguely unpleasant, enough to know it’s a little off.

Love should be more than that. If it’s not, was it ever really there?

A’Whora wonders if she should start writing a diary, confiding in a journal, whatever. It’s not something she’s ever considered before, not with Tayce. She tells Tayce everything, every last pet peeve and irritation or deeply analysed personal flaw.  There are no secrets between them, it’s honest and open and A’Whora has never felt more understood than she does with Tayce. Tayce feels like someone who she finally fits with, the jigsaw piece that slots in perfectly. Tayce is perfect.

Tayce hasn’t changed, but they have. Something is different now. Maybe another piece fell out of place, and the picture is incomplete now. If that’s the case, then why does their relationship feel like it’s taking the brunt of the loss?

They argue. No one would bat an eyelid at that; flirty banter is entirely their thing, insults delivered with a single raised eyebrow, gasped responses with faux high intonations, specific looks. But these arguments, this bickering… The flirtation, if it was ever there, certainly isn’t now. Sometimes Tayce does things, and A’Whora feels like little twigs are being snapped in her chest. She feels like she’s sitting in the fields trying to listen to a teacher while someone next to her won’t stop tearing up the grass and tossing it around. She feels like someone is endlessly clearing their throat and she can’t tune out.

But it’s Tayce. How can it feel like that when it’s her? A’Whora loves Tayce. She knows it.

She thinks it.

The beginning of the end starts with Tia. Tayce knows all about A’Whora’s opinions on Tia, starting with how insufferably annoying she’d found her, then morphing into the guilt of she’s a perfectly nice and funny person and I’m so shit to her and I feel so bad that I judged her like that and acted like a bitch when there was nothing wrong with her and then, finally, to the friendly toleration. They get along fine just now, and while they never really choose to hang out one on one, it doesn’t feel like a loss or a dig for either of them. They’re friends, and it’s good.

The girls are all out for brunch. Or, they started at brunch, and then blinked and it was 7pm, and the cocktails they’d shared at lunch started to sound a lot like hey we’re already out, we may as well go out out and now they were out out, nestled into a pub with an empty pitcher and too many glasses on the table in front of them. A’Whora can barely rest her elbows on the sticky wood without knocking a glass or two over, but they’re packed in like sardines and putting her arms down means brushing up against Tayce.

They’re dating, but for some reason touching her casually like that feels wrong. Not dangerously wrong, glaringly wrong, or evoking some kind of deep sulphuric hatred that burns holes through her stomach. Just… off, like touching the unprotected relics in an old church. You can, but it feels a little like you shouldn’t, even though nothing will happen if you do.

She keeps her elbows on the table. The stickiness bothers her, but not as much as the looks that Tayce sends her way when their arms accidentally touch. What does that look mean? Why is it so irritating?

Tia pulls focus, thankfully, grinning like she’s never grinned before in her life and digging through her purse. Veronica has her arm looped around her waist, sitting close enough that Lawrence and Ellie have room to sit beside them. It’s a good thing Bimini and Asttina are small, because A’Whora and Tayce are nowhere near as snuggled up as those two.

When she finally stops digging, Tia presents a hand like she’s a princess expecting a kiss, and everybody’s eyes are drawn to the ring adorning her finger. If she’s honest, it only caught A’Whora’s eye because Tia’s choice in jewellery is usually much flashier and cheaper than that, but she reasons that obviously Veronica chose it, and then the reality of what’s happening kicks in. Tia and Veronica are engaged. They’re getting married. Everyone, A’Whora and Tayce included, excitedly congratulates them. She’s genuinely happy for them, but she’s not genuinely happy. It doesn’t make much sense.

Maybe it’s the cocktail buzz, but A’Whora feels funny. She registers two sensations at once, managing them by way of urgency. First, she mumbles something about needing the bathroom and click-clacks her heels up the stairs into the women’s, finding it mercifully empty, or close enough. She picks the first available stall and awkwardly crouches over the bowl, trying to gag, waiting for it so she can finally feel better.

She pukes twice; some of it gets on the wall, but only a small amount. She holds her breath as she fumbles in her bag for tissues, cleans it up as best as she can, and steadies herself. Too much fucking sugar and fruit in those cocktails, she thinks. They taste amazing and feel terrible. Her stomach still feels horribly fragile, like it’s separating in the middle, but when a test heave brings up nothing, she decides a regular drink, non-alcoholic, will probably settle her.

Before leaving the bathroom (and after washing her hands), she opens up her phone and follows her second instinct, tapping on the screen until everything’s confirmed and then tucking it back in her bag and heading down the stairs. She won’t tell anyone she’s been sick, because that’s both embarrassing and would ruin the fun.

When she rejoins the table, Lawrence is halfway through a roaringly funny anecdote that involves burnt toast, Ellie being a disgusting whore, and possibly a ruined anniversary. Everyone is howling with laughter; Tia’s hanging off of Veronica, Ellie’s clutching her stomach, Bimini and Asttina have both thrown their heads backwards off their chairs in laughter, and Tayce is laughing so hard she’s completely silent, vibrating. A’Whora sits down and forces a chuckle just so she fits in, desperate to maintain at least one of her jigsaw puzzle pieces while she can. Tayce clasps a hand over her knee as she laughs, and the touch is not uncomfortable, but unwelcome. She gently moves her leg away from Tayce’s hand - Tayce stops laughing, looks at A’Whora, then looks away and resumes her laughter like it’s nothing. It was something, but for now it needs to be nothing.

It just solidifies the idea in A’Whora’s mind that she’s done the right thing.

-

The following morning, she suddenly remembers it. They’d both awoken a bit headachey, but otherwise fine, fresh as daisies even. Ellie keeps texting the groupchat about her wicked hangover, and as she says something about am literally desperate enough to try raw eggs at this point A’Whora mutes the chat, not wanting to get distracted.

Tayce is in the living room, not a stitch of makeup on, wearing a big t-shirt with Eeyore on it and a pair of grey shorts hidden somewhere underneath it. She’s absolutely beautiful, breath-taking, stunning. No one in the world is built like she is.

A’Whora wonders if it’ll ever be enough.

Steeling herself, she makes her way into the living room, briefly stopping in front of the hallway mirror. She looks a mess, hair in a gravity-defying bun, dark circles under her eyes, the remnants of last night’s lipstick still smudged on the inside of her lips. Does Tayce think she’s just as beautiful when she sees her like this? Is there still beauty in her ugliness?

“Morning, you,” She greets, injecting a cheerful note into her voice. Tayce nearly jumps out of her skin, but when she turns around she meets A’Whora’s eye, mercifully, with a smile that looks genuine.

“Hiya love,” Tayce replies, beckoning her to come and sit on the sofa next to her. “How you feeling after last night? Have you seen all of Ellie’s bitching?”

A’Whora sets herself down, leans into Tayce’s side, embracing the early morning closeness before it can evade them. Her head rests on her girlfriend’s shoulder, and neither of them move to rest it elsewhere, so it’s a good start.

“I don’t feel too bad, head’s a bit fucked though,” She admits.

Tayce laughs, causing her shoulders to bounce and wobbling A’Whora’s head. “Here, I think your head was fucked before a couple of cocktails, babe.”

She’s not wrong. A’Whora grants her a laugh which is only a little bit fake, and then sucks in a breath to start speaking. Unfortunately, Tayce beats her to it,

“And all this about our Ronnie proposing to Tia? You know, I was thinking about it all night but I didn’t wanna say anything and make it all about us, but what are they gonna do about the hen do? Like, a joint one, or two separate ones on different nights where all but one of us is out?”

It’s a very fair point, but it’s so far from important in A’Whora’s mind that she brushes it away. Dwelling on the success and excitement of another friend’s relationship is hardly going to ease the tempest waging war in whatever part of her body processes weird emotions that feel the need to migrate to her chest and stomach. She’s happy for them. Her feelings end there. It doesn’t need discussion.

She presses a kiss to Tayce’s shoulder, feigning nonchalance over the topic. “I don’t wanna talk about them, they have it all figured out and that’s boring. I, however, did something last night.”

Tayce raises an eyebrow and waits. A’Whora pulls up her phone, shows the screenshots of the booking confirmation.

“We’re going on holiday!”

A second passes. Then another. Then another. Silence.

Then, Tayce hunches her shoulders and A’Whora takes the cue to remove her head, to stop resting against her, to sit up and be serious. She sighs heavily, glancing at A’Whora’s phone again and then up at the ceiling, her enthusiasm about her friends and a night out stripped away immediately.

“A’Whora…” She hates when Tayce uses her name properly, it feels wrong now after getting used to so many nicknames and pet-names. “What- We’ve got work, we can’t just jet off on holiday whenever we want.”

Is this the first hole in the balloon, the start of the slow deflation, or is it one of many slowly letting out air, gaining speed with every interaction that goes the wrong way? Either way, there’s a sinking feeling in A’Whora that just won’t let up. She doesn’t even want to try - she considers cancelling the booking, giving up the tickets, apologising for such a stupid oversight. But no, she wants to try. Making an effort is important, and she doesn’t want to just sit back and let things sputter out like a dying fire. They will burn bright or not at all.

“I know I - I rushed it, a bit, and I’m sorry I didn’t think that far ahead. But I think this’ll be good! Just you and me, away from all the stress and chaos, some proper alone time.”

She feels like they’re never really alone. They’re not, when she thinks about it - friends always texting, TV always on, always aware of the presence and existence of other people when the whole world used to be just Tayce and A’Whora, A’Whora and Tayce, and everyone else was secondary. Her plan had been pretty bare bones, but a long drive through Middle America until they reach sunny California feels like it can fix things. They can reconnect properly on the long drive, fall in love with being in love again, and then bask in the sunshine and luxury of wherever in Cali takes their fancy when they make it there. Escaping to a place where just for a while, they’ll be the only ones… That sounds good. That sounds like what they need. The panacea of relationships, the reminder of what they were.

Tayce agrees to go.

-

“You know, I literally hate people and I can barely be alone with someone for ten minutes without getting pissed off but I honestly feel like I could sit here talking with you forever,” A’Whora admitted, blushing and laughing at Tayce’s expression. “No, really! We could go anywhere, where shall we go? Barry Island?”

Tayce snorted. “Oh fuck off with that, Lawrence’ll never let go of this bloody Gavin and Stacey thing she’s got going on if we go there. Anywhere but that.”

They collapsed into laughter, mindful of gear sticks and cupholders digging into their sides as they went limp. A’Whora feigned offense, wrinkling her nose and sticking out her bottom lip in a childish pout.

“I’m just annoyed that her joke means I’m the bloke of the relationship. Fucking Gavin, I mean he’s such a wet wipe.”

“I wonder if that would make Lawrence Nessa though?” Tayce pondered, gasping as genius struck her. “Oh my god, Rory, would that make Ellie Smithy?”

A’Whora was sure her stomach was going to fall out of her body with the force of her laughter, so sore she couldn’t do anything besides screeching and trying desperately to stop, to no avail. The car was parked up in a lay-by overlooking the sea, still with no destination in mind as of yet, but they were happy to observe the view as they munched their sandwiches, scrambled for a plan and tried to assign each of their friends a Gavin and Stacey character. (Bims was obviously Pam, if she was slightly more unhinged.)

Tayce wiped her eyes. “This is beastly. Alright, alright, where are we actually going then? Do we have any plan at all?”

A’Whora shrugged. “Drive til we find somewhere that looks nice?”

“Sounds good.” She leant over, the two of the meeting in the middle for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Happy six months, gorgeous.”

-

It’s not the same. Of course it’s not the same. Everything is different now, so why would this be the same?

America is big. Big enough that you can drive and drive and the landscape will stay the same, dusty and yellow with nothing else to see beyond the occasional sparse red rock. There is nothing for miles in any direction, and they are the only car on the road, just driving through endless space.

At first, she’d thought that the big open space would make it easier to run from their problems, the simplicity providing some clarity into why everything seemed to have shifted and allowing them space to fix it all. Instead, the emptiness was just exacerbating her own emptiness, a barren landscape horribly reminiscent of their lives at home.

They had been so colourful, once. When had the barren desolation crept in? Where had it all gone?

America is so big, and they are so small.

Some of these Middle America states are so similar that the line between them seems to just be an arbitrary thing, as the sign indicates they’re somewhere new while the landscape suggests they’re anything but. Tayce is driving, occasionally tapping her fingers on the wheel in tune to the music, which A’Whora pretends doesn’t annoy her. It used to be endearing, but hours of tap tap tap feels like some tame iteration of water torture. Then she feels ridiculous for such a dramatic comparison, and tries to count her blessings.

She’s in a beautiful country with a beautiful girl. She should be happy.

They both should.

“So we’re due in California in like two days of driving, yeah?” Tayce checks, still drumming away on the steering wheel. “Where are we staying tonight, then?”

A’Whora shrugs. “I just thought we’d find somewhere along the way, a motel or something.”

Apparently that’s the wrong thing to say. Tayce huffs.

“What, so we’re just driving aimlessly? You didn’t book anything?”

Her memory jolts back to their six month anniversary, almost forever ago now in the timeline of their relationship. She doesn’t know if Tayce remembers any details of that day, or just the fond memories that she clings onto as best as she can. Before she even says it, she’s knows it’s stupid, knows it won’t work, and is annoyed at herself before Tayce even can be. In fact, she knows it’ll start an argument. But what else is there to say?

At least their arguments have a bit of passion, a tiny spark. Nothing like the explosions, but maybe it’s a start. It’s better than letting their love sit stagnant and off until it slowly disintegrates.

“Drive til we find somewhere that looks nice?”

She thinks about sharing a kiss, feeling a sort of young happiness that melts away everything else in the world. She thinks about how lucky they felt.

“For fuck’s sake, A’Whora. I thought you would’ve at least planned something for your little impromptu holiday,” Tayce snaps, turning off the music. Thank God - no more tapping.

“My impromptu holiday? This is about us, Tayce, which apparently you’re too blind to see. I did this so we could spend some time together alone and actually start getting on.”

“Start getting on? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh my god, okay, it’s all in my head then and I’m the bad guy. I just mean that we’ve been bickering a lot and I thought that getting away from home would help us recalibrate and get back to normal, Christ.”

“This isn’t a coming of age film, you can’t just jet off to fix things. We’re fine, but this is a bit of a piss take because there’s nothing literally anywhere and we have no idea when the next place to stop will even be. Can you at least look on your phone for somewhere instead of making this into a fight?”

“I’m not making it into- fine, yeah, I’ll look. There’s no signal, though, we might need to get further towards a town before we can look something up.”

“Fuck me. This is so relaxing, I’m so glad I booked a week off to do this.”

“I was trying to do something nice, you don’t need to be like that.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Let’s just - I’ll put the music back on, we’ll keep going.”

They drive in silence.

-

Four hours later, there’s a motel. It’s a single isolated building in the middle of the emptiness, with neon signs that buzz and hum with electricity and flicker on and off. There’s only three other cars in the car park besides theirs, all aggressively American looking, but it’s dark and they’re both too tired to care. It looks like the kind of place that a murder is definitely going to take place, probably tonight, but Tayce stacks up the chairs in front of the door in case the lock fails and flops down onto the bed, exhausted.

“This is fucking delightful.” She comments dryly. “I guess it’s an authentic American road trip experience, though, so I’ll give you credits for that.”

Her tone is unnecessary - A’Whora prickles. “Oh wow, thank you so much for all the credit you’re giving me. I feel so inspired to do nice things for our relationship again now.”

It happens again. Arguments, none of them screaming matches, no blinding fury and passion, no explosive fights and hateful sex and the feeling of losing it all, so throwing everything in at once to stoke the flames. It’s just another small thing, again and again and again.

They’re fighting and there’s just no reason for it whatsoever. No one has done anything wrong. No one has said anything wrong. They love each other, desperately, and they’re fighting.

Eventually A’Whora realises what they’re doing, and it hurts somewhere deep and cavernous in her chest. Their love won’t end in explosions and flames and hysterics and tears, but they’re still arguing and bickering for a reason, just not the one she thought.

If love is supposed to be so big, all grand gestures and bleeding heart fights, then what are they? Were they ever in love?

It doesn’t matter. The truth is, they’re just breaking something because they don’t know how to fix it.

There’s no fixing this.

-

They don’t make it to California.

[mbti-notes]

Heyo, this is the INFJ that asked a year or so ago about learning psychology. Thanks for your last answer! I just wanted to ask about something else I've been having trouble with. I've always loved learning myself, especially in the mathematical/computational sciences. I've been doing so since I was 8 (I'm 18 rn) and I really love it. Since I was reading university-level stuff myself for all these years, I also got an on-campus job in research. However, since I've gotten this job, reading and do

[con’t: ing stuff has kinda lost its charm, the reason being that because I've started to see that I'm good at the field and potentially able to gain a lot of extrinsic reward for it, my motivation has become extrinsic because I have real stakes in not studying now such as not progressing in my career or even losing opportunities (Ryan's SDT theory? lol). I understand that I can just focus COMPLETELY intrinsically, without any focus on what I get from things, but that isn't preferable because I'll just it's just that I've caught a fear of success and procrastinate endlessly on achieving my long-term goals. I think I'm unconsciously afraid of doing too well tbh, because people don't like it (I've seen my peers becoming jealous and withdraw since I got my job and I didn't even realize why they did that until an elder explained to me). I'm also afraid of failing to do what I set out to do and showing myself that I was really in the clouds after all. Do you have tips to help me confront these fears? 

BTW, I saved this for the last: your answer was REALLY helpful; I'm making tons of progress! I've chosen to 'specialize' in cognitive/personality psychology, a tilt towards the personality side, and I've already started applying and seeing the depth in the various theories put together by those intelligent folks. I think I'm starting to analyze theories and put them in a more theory-in-itself perspective, which is really enjoyable and gets me a bunch of insight I didn't know was hidden there. I've also started seeing the value in research and how it is used to forward and refine theory empirically. So thanks :D]

You’re welcome. It seems that your problem is related to function misuse: 

Ni misuse: unrealistic expectations or extreme thinking

Fe misuse: self-image and self-worth problems

Ti misuse: twisted logic and inappropriate methods of judgment

Se misuse: superficial or oversimplistic thinking

The first major issue is that there’s something wrong with the way that you try to envision the future. 1) Oversimplified either/or thinking runs rampant. “Either I succeed or I fail.” “Either I am intrinsically or extrinsically motivated.” 2) From either/or thinking comes the formulation of extreme expectations. “I must be the absolute best to succeed”. “Failing means that I am the absolute worst.” “If I am only intrinsically motivated, I will procrastinate and fail.” “If I am only extrinsically motivated, I will lose myself and fail.” And on and on.

You don’t give yourself many options because your mind is closed or cut off from other options. If your N process is basically only capable of generating ideas that all lead to one conclusion - failure - it speaks to the immaturity of Ni. Listen more carefully to how you talk to yourself. If you talked to someone else the way that you talk to yourself, you’d be causing a lot of hurt. There is a distinct lack of self-compassion in your self-talk. You basically set yourself up for failure so that you can blunt the disappointment that you expect to feel should you fail - you are causing your own failure and disappointment. This is a very sad way to go through life. Sure, if you never really try, then you are able to live in the delusion that you could’ve been great. It is delusion because the fact is that you will never actually know the truth about yourself and your potential. You are saying that protecting your delusion is more important than the truth.

None of this thinking is useful or productive because it is all quite unrealistic. Your thinking is based on pure abstractions, detached from how learning actually works in the real world. Learning is a PROCESS of growth. It cannot be measured merely in stark terms of “success” or “failure”. Would you tell a child that they have failed unless they achieved 100% on the test? Yet that is basically what you tell yourself. Learning is a HUMAN process, nonlinear, unpredictable. It cannot be only intrinsically or only extrinsically motivated because all human beings are motivated by both kinds of factors. Are you a robot? You can just switch things on and off as you like? It doesn’t work that way. The proper approach is to balance the two because you need both. 

The second major issue is that your identity seems completely tied up with how you perform in your learning and work activities. This perhaps speaks to an underlying fear of being inadequate, inferior, unacceptable, worthless, etc - all pointing to deep-seated shame -> unhealthy Fe that uses inappropriate standards to determine your value. Ti loop commonly uses displays of striving, competency, or intelligence to prove oneself and alleviate shame. Shame about what? What’s your shame? Being imperfect? 

If your motivation for learning is actually perfectionism, then, yes, you’re going to have serious motivation problems, because your intention is misguided. As soon as you fail to live up to perfection, your motivation dies. Perfectionism cannot sustain long term growth because it is merely concerned with protecting your feelings and boosting your ego. Perfectionism drains energy rather than energizes you. Would you tell a child that the main reason for doing anything is perfection, that they must do everything perfectly, or else there’s no point? If so, you’d be guaranteeing their failure and depression. You will always fail to live up to perfection because perfection doesn’t exist except as a delusional possibility in your own mind. Always thinking in terms of “failure to live up to an ideal” means that your focus is always trained on the negative, and in that state of mind, there is no space for experiencing the positive aspects of learning and growth.

You need function development. It begins at the top, with the way that Ni+Fe (poorly) conceptualizes you, your self-image, your potential, and your worth. These are common INFJ issues, so I suggest that you read through the related tags and articles.