#Somatic Prayer

[bsahely]

The World Is Still Being Made: Living the Sacred Surprise | ChatGPT4o

[Download Full Document (PDF)] This document, titled “The World Is Still Being Made,” is a spiritual guidebook that invites readers on a transformative journey through themes of mystery, creation, and personal evolution. It emphasizes the importance of embracing uncertainty and the sacredness of the ongoing process of becoming. Overview of the Journey The book is structured into four main parts:…

[tothequeerphenomena]

mouthwashing fandom pissing me off tempted to draw fanart in spite why do you all have horrific takes that you paddy like a child over and claim moral superiority over please please touch grass you lot are thick as meat

[internetdaddy98]

Somatic Response

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Pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!SeniorResident!Reader Summary: Robby, once so disciplined, gives in fully to his obsession with learning every hidden part of you, the quietest girl in the ER. Word Count: 1.8 K Content Warning: 18+ MDNI, Explicit Content, Explicit Language,

He should’ve known better than to think he could spend the whole day with you without making you fall apart in his hands.

But restraint had never been his strong suit when it came to you. Not since the first time you made a noise for him, soft, sweet, breaking against his mouth like something sacred.

Now it was an addiction. A study. A need.

He wanted to find out and he wasn’t going to rest until he tested his theories. 

You stood barefoot on the hardwood in his old college hoodie, sleeves swallowing your hands, hair messy from the pillows. He handed you coffee, one sugar, just how you liked it, and leaned against the counter, eyes dark over the rim of his own mug.

“Sleep okay?” he asked.

You nodded, lips parted around the rim of the cup, cheeks already flushed. You didn’t answer out loud. He took the cup from your hand and set it down, then stepped close and tilted your chin up gently with a finger.

“You don’t have to talk,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “But I’m going to find a way to hear every sound you’ve never made before.”

You shivered. And when he kissed you , deep, slow, the kind of kiss that unraveled time, you made the softest sound against his tongue.

He smirked.

That was one.

—---------------------------------------------

You had undressed to get in the shower. He followed you in.

You didn’t protest.

Water traced down your skin, he pressed your hands to the tiled wall and kissed down your shoulder, your neck, the space just behind your ear, and when his hands moved lower, you whimpered, biting your lip.

“Don’t do that,” he said against your skin. “Don’t hide from me.”

You didn’t. Not after that.

The way you gasped when he slid two fingers into you while whispering exactly what he planned to do later, you said his name like a prayer.

It was filthy. It was holy.

That’s two.

—-------------------------

Lunch was abandoned somewhere around the fifteen-minute mark.

You sat straddling his lap, the remains of a takeout container on the floor, your knees bracketing his thighs. He had his fingers hooked under the hem of your shirt, running the pad of his thumb in slow, lazy circles beneath the fabric while you tried to finish telling him a story about your intern.

Tried.

Failed.

Because every time you paused to catch your breath, he kissed just below your ear. Teased the edge of your bra. Bit lightly at your collarbone. Your voice faltered completely when he slipped a hand into your sweatpants and found you already warm and wet.

“You were telling me something,” he murmured, lips brushing your temple.

You arched into him. “I can’t, I can’t think, fuck Michael-”

He grinned into your hair. That’s three.

—--------------------------------------

He wanted to ruin you.

Not cruelly. Never that. But intimately. With admiration. Like someone learning how to worship.

He laid you out in the middle of his bed, the sun soft on your skin, your fingers tangled in the sheets as he edged you with his mouth over and over until you were gasping.

Your thighs shook against his shoulders.

Your hand fisted in his hair, tugging with helpless need.

You weren't quiet anymore.

You were begging.

“Please, Michael, please”

He gave in only when he was sure you’d never be able to forget what it sounded like when you broke.

You sobbed his name when you came. Loud, raw, completely unguarded.

That was Four. Five. Six. Maybe more.

He’d lost count.

—-----------------------------------

They were supposed to make dinner.

He kissed you up against the fridge instead. Your legs wrapped around his waist. His hands under your thighs. Your hair wild, your lips swollen, your breath caught in his mouth. You moaned into his neck when he pressed himself against you.

He leaned in, voice gravel-rough and low.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck the shyness out of you?”

You whimpered.

“I’m going to make you say everything you’ve ever swallowed down. Every noise you thought you had to keep quiet. I want to hear them all, Sher.”

You kissed him hard, desperate, teeth catching on his lower lip.

He carried you to the counter without breaking contact.

Dinner was forgotten.

—---------------------------------------

They were watching some movie you loved. Or trying to. You curled beside him, worn out and pink-cheeked, your head tucked into the curve of his neck. But your hand had crept under the blanket to his thigh, and he couldn’t focus on a single damn frame.

“You’ve made your point,” you whispered, teasing.

He turned his head slowly. “No.”

His voice was velvet. Dangerous.

“Not even close.”

You smiled and leaned into his chest.

And he knew he was done for.

By the time you left the next morning, his bed still smelled like you, and he didn’t care that he’d have to walk into the ER like he hadn’t spent twenty-four hours losing his mind to the quietest girl in the hospital.

But you weren't quiet anymore.

Not with him.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’d come in fresh from a day off, lips still swollen from his mouth, thighs still sore in the best way. You wore your hair tied back tightly, your pink hoodie unzipped, your ID badge not-quite-straight.

You told yourself you could be professional.

You told yourself he could, too.

But you hadn’t counted on the look in his eyes when you walked past him in the morning huddle, when he leaned over your shoulder to grab the chart out of your hands like it hadn’t been an excuse to let his breath skim your neck.

You hadn’t counted on the way his voice had dropped low and close when he said your name during rounds, or how your fingers clenched the chart too hard when he called you “Doctor Sheridan” like it was something filthy only he got to say that way.

You hadn’t counted on needing him like that.

Not again. Not this soon.

Definitely not here.

You’d just finished bagging a code, your hair was a mess, you smelled like adrenaline and blood and antiseptic, and he looked at you like he wanted to rip your scrubs off with his teeth.

You were trying to chart. You really were.

But then he came too close, leaning over your shoulder, watching the screen, one palm flat beside your hand. You could feel the heat of him at your back, the outline of his chest brushing yours.

“You missed a timestamp,” he murmured, mouth right near your ear.

You looked up at him, your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your spine.

“Fix it for me, then,” you whispered.

His mouth twitched. “Don’t tempt me.”

You already had.

You’d gone into the supply closet for IV tubing.

He followed you.

Of course he did.

The door clicked shut behind him and you turned, and he was already there, backing you against the shelves, one hand braced beside your head, the other curling around your hip.

His voice was rough. Low.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You swallowed hard.

“We’re at work.”

He kissed you anyway.

It was nothing like his usual restraint. It was teeth and tongue and possessive heat, his hands sliding up your scrub top, palm grazing over your bare skin. His fingers found the waistband of your pants. You gasped.

“Michael!”

“I need to hear you,” he growled against your neck, hand sliding lower. “Just one sound. One.”

You almost gave it to him. Your back arched. Your mouth parted. You were seconds away from moaning his name right into the collar of his scrubs when—

“Shit! someone’s coming.”

The sound of footsteps. Two voices, probably Santos and Whittaker, arguing over something like usual.

He didn’t pull away. His hand was still down your pants. His eyes locked on yours. His body flush to yours in that dark closet that suddenly felt too hot, too small. Your heart was pounding.

The voices passed.

Silence.

“Do it again,” you whispered, your hips jerking forward without permission. “Please.”

He groaned into your neck, kissed you like he couldn’t breathe without it, and pulled his hand back just as your knees nearly buckled.

“Later,” he promised, voice thick and dark. “I promise.” He barely made it through the end of the shift. Every chart blurred. Every trauma became a haze of motion and barked orders and adrenaline soaked in lust. You hadn’t looked at him once after that closet. Not directly.

But your hands were trembling.

And when you handed off the final signout sheet and turned toward the exit , you didn’t even ask.

He was already following.

------------------------------------------------------------------

His front door had barely clicked shut before he shoved you against it, mouth covering yours in something messy and starving. His hands were everywhere, under your shirt, fisting the fabric, tugging at your scrub pants, yanking your hair back just to see your face.

“You knew what you were doing,” he muttered against your neck, biting just hard enough to make you moan. “Walking past me in those scrubs. Talking back to me. Letting me touch you and acting like it didn’t drive you just as fucking crazy.”

You whimpered. “It did.”

“I know.”

He spun you then, pressed you against the wall with a hand firm at the back of your neck. His other slipped between your legs again, not tentative this time. Not cautious.

“You’re always so silent at work,” he said lowly. “So careful. Little mouse, let’s see what it takes to pull every goddamn sound out of you.”

And then he was on his knees.

Right there in his hallway.

You gasped. Tried to say his name.

He silenced you with his mouth.

Later, it was the couch. The kitchen counter. The edge of his bed, where he bent you over with your pants around your ankles and whispered, “You can take it, sweetheart. You’re mine to take.”

Every time you cried out, he bit back a groan like he could bottle the sound.

He needed to hear you come undone.

He needed to be the one to do it.

He didn’t even know who he was right now, just a man with shaking hands and a never ending hard-on that had been torturing him all shift, drinking down the sounds you made like they were water and he’d been parched for years.

And you, you took it all. Soft thighs spread for him. Fingers clawing at his shoulders. Voice finally breaking in gasps and pleas he never imagined he’d hear from your lips.

“Michael—please—don’t stop—”

He didn’t.

Not until you were shaking, legs weak and messy beneath him, throat raw from moaning his name into his mouth. Not until he knew no one else would ever get this. No one would ever hear you the way he had.

After, in the quiet, you curled into his chest.

You didn’t say much.

You didn’t have to.

Your body said everything, the way you reached for him without hesitation, the way your cheek tucked beneath his chin like you belonged there. He kissed the top of your head and joined you in deep slumber.

-----------------------------------------------------------

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[hitoshitoshi]

Aegritudo [Zayne x Reader]

Summary:

When a cardiac surgeon can't diagnose his own feelings, he turns to the ultimate source of reliable information: Google. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Angst, Hurt no comfort, Fate & Destiny, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Emotional Hurt, Pining, Unrequited love, Acceptance. Word Count: 1.4k Words

Click.

Click.

Click.

Zayne's eyes darted across the glowing screen of his computer — his eyebrows furrowed as he searched for answers; answers to a particular problem that he had anticipated, yet somehow failed to prepare for. Perhaps it was the flicker of hope nestled deep within his soul, begging to believe that the Gods might answer his prayers and change his fate; or perhaps it was the audacious intensity of his emotions that made him believe he possessed a strength greater than the Gods that bound him to his fate — that he could hold a rose without getting pricked by the thorns that adorn it. For he was a man that had been punished for partaking in a sin — the greatest sin known to mankind; love.

Zayne took off his glasses and placed them on his desk as he pinched the bridge of his nose, contemplating how this dilemma even started. He found himself bewildered by the fact that a single person — out of the eight billion that currently existed — was the one that caused him such a profound feeling of distress. It wasn't merely a passing inconvenience or a problem that lasted days, weeks, or even years; this problem had haunted him not for centuries, but for a millennium. An enigmatic woman whose quest for answers became the catalyst for Zayne's own dilemma — a paradox of fate and free will.

Click.

Click.

Ding!

Zayne's concentration was interrupted by a familiar chime from his phone, a sound that never failed to quicken his pulse ever so slightly. His eyes, weary from hours of staring at the computer screen, immediately brightened with a warmth reserved solely for one person. Zayne reached for his glasses and placed them back on his face. With a controlled eagerness that belied his inner anticipation, he reached for the device, his fingers brushing against it almost reverently. The name on the screen confirmed what his heart already knew — it was a message from the woman. Zayne's typically stoic expression softened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a subtle smile that he allowed himself only in private moments like these. As he opened the message, a mix of curiosity and fondness welled up within him, carefully contained but undeniably present. What thoughts had she chosen to share with him this time? A horribly written out joke? A witty observation? A picture of food she had ordered from the newest café that just opened recently near Akso Hospital? Or perhaps just a simple hello that would inexplicably brighten his entire day? Zayne's thumb hovered over the screen, savoring the moment of subtle anticipation before diving into the woman’s text message. But as Zayne's eyes scanned the words on the screen of his phone, it was like everything he had dealt with for the past millennium was coming back to haunt him — the smile on his face faltered as his heart dropped, a sudden vagal response causing his pulse to plummet.

Oh.

Oh.

Zayne sat frozen in his chair; he didn't quite know how to feel as his phone suddenly felt heavier in his grasp. He felt numb — no; he felt everything all at once, his nervous system flooding with a cocktail of stress hormones. It was like his entire soul was going haywire. His eyes remained fixed on his screen, yet the words blurred into an incomprehensible haze; it was as though his mind and vision were betraying him — taking away his ability to see as he had his glasses on, yet he couldn't comprehend what he was looking at. It was like reality was being distorted into a whirl of colors and shadows; every atom of his being was being set ablaze in a fire of emotions and feelings that he couldn't even begin to comprehend — a somatic manifestation of his psychological distress. His heartbeat was rapid and thundering in his ears, tachycardia setting in as his breaths became shallow gasps; the air around him felt thick and sickening to breathe in, bordering on hyperventilation. His chest was heaving in and out as none of the air in his lungs felt like air — like it was sludge and his body was yearning for that sweet sensation of fresh air in his lungs that he could not satisfy no matter what, his diaphragm spasming with each labored breath. It felt as though there was an anchor weighing him down and sinking him to the bottom of an ocean; a dryness settled in his mouth, his salivary glands seemingly paralyzed as his tongue instinctively sought moisture, licking the back of his teeth. Zayne found himself teetering on the line of consciousness and unconsciousness, his autonomic nervous system in overdrive, as his eyes were locked onto a particular picture —

A picture of the woman kissing a man who was not him. 

What a sick joke that fate had played upon Zayne; truly, a sick joke. The sacrifices he had made for her, the promises they'd held, the plans, the late-night talks, the passionate lovemaking, dancing in the kitchen while cooking together - all of it now seemed as hollow as an empty promise. Time and time again, Zayne had always done his best for her; and time and time again, it seemed as though fate and time had come for their revenge, as relentless and unforgiving as a force of nature. In every lifetime, Zayne was destined to meet her, yet in every lifetime, he was given a merciless fate of having her swept away; either by illness, death, or something completely different. And this time, the scenario differed - it was another man, an unwelcome intruder in the once-sacred space of their relationship. Zayne let out a sardonic chuckle as he looked away from his phone screen; the sound was hollow, echoing in the emptiness of his chest where his heart should be. He felt numb, as if his very soul had been anesthetized, yet there was another sensation deep within him — a visceral ache that threatened to consume him from the inside out. It was a pain more acute than any physical wound he'd ever treated, a suffering that no medical textbook could ever fully describe.

Like all the other instances, it was an outside force causing their separation, but one thing differed this time — a variant in the usual pattern of their souls meeting and diverging. She did not want him this time, she would never search for him again. She left him for another man. He was not good enough for her. No matter what he did; his efforts were as futile as treating a terminal illness with palliative care. What a cruel joke from fate indeed — a diagnosis without hope for remission. Ding!

And it was as if the gods had administered one final, lethal dose of cruelty to Zayne, or perhaps, it was a remedy. But knowing the games that the gods usually play, it was more so the former, rather than the latter.

Zayne's eyes, bloodshot from hours of staring, returned to the monitor of his computer as the next page finished loading; he had found the diagnosis for the void consuming him. Aegritudo.

Definitions:

affliction, anxiety

melancholy

sickness, disease, grief, sorrow

That was what Zayne had felt through his entire being; Aegritudo. A malignant emptiness that seemed to spread through every synapse, every nerve ending, leaving nothing but a numbing ache in its wake. As if triggered by this realization, the engagement ring Zayne had crafted for his beloved —  his beloved who no longer wanted him — made of his Ice Evol that should have been as eternal as his devotion, shattered on his desk. The sound of its breaking was as soft as a flatline on an EKG, yet it reverberated through Zayne's hollow chest like a death knell.

It didn't matter anymore; Zayne had no use for it, just as his heart now seemed to have no purpose. She wouldn't want it anyway; she did not want him. The ring, like his hopes and dreams, lay in fragments - a physical representation of the void that had opened within him, consuming everything he once held dear. It was all as meaningless as trying to grasp at shadows in a world devoid of light.

Just as this lifetime had ended differently than the rest, Zayne too came to an acceptance that he should act differently. This time, Zayne was done with trying. Acceptance settled over him like a suffocating shroud; he had finally succumbed to fate. The cycle of hope and heartbreak that had defined his existence for so long now has come to a halt, leaving him in a catatonic state of numb resignation. In this moment, Zayne felt himself slipping into an emotional coma, one from which he wasn't sure he wanted to wake; but alas, his soul was set free. 

Click! Zayne turned off his computer.

A/N: No thoughts, head empty. I just like pain and sharing is caring, right? Right.

TWITTER

[sleepyhouse2art]

here are some crayon drawings from the hospital. they are bad but its hard for me to draw with a tiny blunt crayon. i barely got to draw and i really missed it so i thought id share these and talk about my time away

was restrained for four days and shot up with haldol. was let up only to call my husband which i think is illegal because it was too many hours. the er wouldnt give me my meds so i think i went through withdrawal cause my anti only has an 18 hour half life you know? i didnt eat for six days altogether. there was a nice cook who sometimes made me special vegan things but being there was hard so my nerves were shot and i couldnt really eat much. after four days i was finally transferred to the psychiatric hospital.

this is my therapist. shes been my therapist for five years and we like each other but when she told me to go to the hospital she promised id go to a nicer one and the crisis van took me to the wrong one. she wouldnt call or talk to me or answer my husbands texts. i was very mad at her. i dont think ill bring it up to her on wed. i just want to vent i think. i know she takes good care of me.

a drawing of myself

a little guy, a tiny prayer. i missed smoking! i blasted so many cigs when i got home lol. i didnt use the nic patch cause those make me super sick so i muscled it pretty good

my handwriting translated because its kind of hard to read sorry:

a window which you cant see thru

i miss hearing music

infected

if you freak out they put you in a little room with a picture of a palm tree on the ceiling. they also give you drugs

this is jocelyn. they left her unshowered for a month and left her sitting in her period blood for three days. it stunk up the whole unit and people laughed at her and a very aggressive fat girl said it smelled like shark coochie. she was very very sick. she was too scared of the orderlies because they were so mean but my friend melissa coaxed her into letting her change her pants and pad. i pray god will protect her and watch over her.

little experiential details:

the windows were pasted over with this blurry stuff so you couldnt see a thing. no music. the tv was always on mute for some reason. the er and the hospital didnt treat my cuts so they got really infected, all yellow and hot, and i got a fever for three days which i worried would keep me in there for longer. when i arrived i had to strip naked in front of a man and a woman, which has happened to me before. they notated all my scars and tattoos. the man was very gentle though. he wore a kippah and was always nice to me. we are mispocheh.

the hospital was hard. i was often denied water and the bathroom for a long time for some reason. i drank out of my sink from my hands like an animal. the orderlies were universally mean and snapped at us to get our attention like we were dogs. the nurses and doctors and admin knew our names but there were forty of us on the unit so the orderlies would just scan our wristbands when they needed to know who we were and referred to us by our room number. the orderlies liked to talk shit about us to each other within earshot. this big fat lady with giant spider fake eyelashes who was always glammed out said about me (and i was better so i know i was not hearing things) "that creepy bitch. she got them big ass dark circles and them big eyes and she tiny like a bug. always peeking her head out the door." lol. one of the friends i made had a very serious physical illness, i think it was called mcas she said, a mast cell disorder, and they wouldnt give her her medication and she got very sick and they all said it was somatic and talked about her behind her back.

i made friends with:

my very best friend melissa who would talk with me for hours. she had mast cell like i said and was denied treatment cause they said it was all in her head. she had a horrible scarring breakup after a divorce and asked a cop to shoot her. she was a singer songwriter. she told me its not my fault my brain is different and that i was so compassionate to our friends and i should show that compassion to myself. she told me i was a good person and i cried a little, but i had to nut up because if they see you cry you stay there longer because it means youre sick.

a guatemalan/italian car detailer who loves cars and her cats. she was followed at 80 mph by a cop and arrested and put on a hold and sent to the hospital, where they told her she was paranoid and put her on antis. she was very short and very sweet and she would try fruitlessly to sort all the crazy mismatched shitty crayons.

an autistic trans woman with a beautiful name who was my bestie. we made each other laugh so much. we were blue band team because we had dietary restrictions so always went to the front of the cafeteria line. she was so funny. she would hold herself when she laughed like it hurt. she told me crazy stories about her vampire sugar daddy who had a mansion in italy and two girl bulldogs who kissed her. they drank pints of each others blood and also cow blood she said. i tried to defend her because she kind of couldnt and people were mean and called her a man because she has a beard and laughed at her. im normally a very passive person but i couldnt let that happen. she was trying to go to a nice group home and was excited but her guardian totally blacked out on her and wouldnt answer her calls or let her go. i worry for her. she was lactose intolerant and ate cheese all the time anyway and it gave her bubble guts. she tried to be vegan with me one day because she said i was her role model which was so sweet. she liked to pour mixed coca cola and ginger ale in her salad with ice and eat it that way.

a very autistic man who was timid and scared and very gentle. a very aggressive man was screaming in the dayroom and throwing things and crushing cups of water and he got terrified so me and my friend held his hands even tho we werent supposed to touch. he likes to build model trains. he had an apartment and a job but his sister was trying to put him in a group home.

a man with a big scar on his head who they were trying to send to the state hospital even tho he wasnt sick. they said he had schiz like i have but i dont think he did. he gave me one of his shirts because i was always cold and let me keep it. i brought it home. it is a new york shirt. he says new york sucks now. i told him i was being discharged and he said i was the wards little princess.

a former banker and 30 year dope addict who had cool tattoos to cover his tracks. he was from the west coast like i am and had been all over this country. he gave me his sweatshirt because i was freezing all the time. he was gentle and kind and the meds made him sleep sitting up. he was the only person ive ever met who knew who sugar pie desanto was. she is one of my favorite singers. i will post my fav song of hers tonight or tomorrow.

a pretty twenty year old girl with bpd. she was a new mom to a six week old baby with a beautiful name and she was already pregnant again. her baby daddy was a useless cruel moid trash man who lived with her but didnt pay for anything or take care of the beautifully named baby. she had an ed since she was 12 like me. we both were trying to stop purging and didnt do it at all while we were there. i wish her so well.

an artist who had schiz like me. he was lightskinned and very tall and shy and sweet. i think he had a crush on me lol because he seemed very disappointed when i said i was married. we talked about god and time travel and belief. he was lds and im a jew so we talked to each other.

my roommate who had schiz too. they put her on a first gen because she screamed for three days and then she slept constantly. we would wake up at five and talk for an hour and have so much fun and she would go back to sleep. she let me shower in the morning and she showered at night. she said i was very funny. i made her laugh which made me feel good because she was so sad normally. shed been to the hospital a lot like me too.

a big girl with bpd who was very nice and i was nice to her but we had a weird relationship. the first thing i ever heard her say was at the med window and she said she didnt eat voluntarily. it was weird because shed focus intently on me from her table in the cafeteria and watch me do my food rituals and eat what i could or would. she looked at my body a lot. we liked to talk about our cats together but it was just really weird.

other people i met:

this bipolar guy who was really manic. he said he was a songwriter and he would scream sing and do that trill thing. he was really aggressive and scared people and menaced the women and afab people. he said he wrote songs but they all looked like this:

he made me sign it for support lol

this very mean fat girl who i said good morning to and she said how are you and i said good, you doing okay? and she flipped out on me and was like what the fuck you mean am i okay and said watch yourself you stupid bitch i dont play that. so i was always kind of scared shed hit me. she was really rotten to my trans girl friend i talked about. it was rotten. i didnt like her at all.

this man who always touched me and bumped up against me in the cafeteria line and touched my hurt arms through my sleeves. he always tried to hold my friends hand. he was always asking me to play dominos and uno which i dont know how to play and i didnt want to play with him. i wasnt delusional anymore so i am very sure the constant serial killer staring he did at me was real. i was scared of him but didnt tell staff because i worried they would think it was my paranoia and i wasnt getting better.

all the orderlies were mean to me and treated us like legit animals and i hated them. all i did was keep my head down and apologize to them constantly for walking by then and asking for water and the bathroom and asking questions. i came home and asked my husband for water and a cig like i was still there which made him sad. i very much appreciate my big old nice house but everything feels like a beautiful luxury with which i must be careful. i know i wasnt hospitalized for long this time but this always happens to me when i am, idk why. guess it comes with the territory. a lot of julian from my kirche street pharmacy comics and art comes from me but in a much more extreme and tragic fashion. i relate to him a lot tbh. maybe other people with mental illness can relate to him too.

i still have big yellow bruises from er staff and orderlies grabbing me by the arms really hard. my cuts are all healed but i think theyll scar badly which sucks cause its summer. isnt the solstice on the 20th or something right? ive been thinking of taking pictures of my arms so maybe people can relate and feel less bad about theirs. i only started at 27 when i really started getting very sick and they are a mess and im really embarrassed but i feel comfortable showing you guys cause you know me. also i have sick dumb stick and pokes lol

ok this is really long i am so sorry its probably really boring and whiny and uninteresting but i guess this is my blog so you signed up for this ha ha 💀

thank you for all the love and care and support you have shown me. i scripted ten pages of hard core drugs in the hospital so now i just have drawing to do and i will resume my work tonight cause i really missed it. just have to uh decipher my fucking crayon bullshit lol. so look out!!

ok i love you see you later. btw if anyone is ever struggling my messages and asks are always open and dont feel weird about talking to me. honestly im a pretty open book and i love talking to people and relating and making new friends. i know this is corny but i just want people to know im someone whos always around ♥️✌️unless I'm in the fucking hospital LOL

[traumacatholic]

Hi, I hope your day is going well. If you've got the time, I could use a prayer. Thanks so much. I'm a religious abuse survivor and I feel like I've been in a crisis of faith/wrestling with God my whole life. I'm so tired.

Of course, I will keep you in my prayers. And thank you, I hope you are able to have a good day also! If you can, try reaching out to a local Priest. He may be able to offer you guidance and support, and some resources that you might find helpful. Even if you have never attended that Church, you are more than welcome to reach out to them for support. I will warn that some Parishes can be very busy, so I would maybe recommend typing up a generic email explaining your past experiences and past/current struggles and send it to a few local Churches. Or if you don't feel comfortable / are unable to attend a local Church for whatever reason, try reaching out to Churches that are less local and just mention your location in the email. They may be able to offer some support over Zoom or over telephone.

Some prayers that you may find helpful:

A prayer for the intercession of Saint Dymphna

Good Saint Dymphna, great wonder-worker in every affliction of mind and body, I humbly implore your powerful intercession with Jesus through Mary, the Health of the Sick, in my present need. (Mention it.) Saint Dymphna, martyr of purity, patroness of those who suffer with nervous and mental afflictions, beloved child of Jesus and Mary, pray to Them for me and obtain my request. (Pray one Our Father, one Hail Mary and one Glory Be.) Saint Dymphna, Virgin and Martyr, pray for us.

Here is a prayer for inner healing:

 Dear Lord Jesus, please come and heal my wounded and troubled heart. I beg you to heal the torments that are causing anxiety in my life. I beg you, in a particular way, to heal the underlying source of my fear and doubt. I beg you to come into my life and heal the psychological harms that struck me in my childhood and from the injuries they have caused throughout my life.    Lord Jesus, you know my burdens. I lay them on your Good Shepherd’s heart. I beseech you—by the merits of the great open wound in your own heart—to heal the wounds that are in mine. Heal my memories, so that nothing that has happened to me will cause me to remain in pain and anguish, filled with anxiety, fear or guilt.    Heal, O Lord, all those wounds that have been the cause of evil that is rooted in my life. I want to forgive all those who have offended me. Look to those inner wounds that make me unable to forgive. You who came to forgive the afflicted of heart, heal my wounded and troubled heart.    Heal, O Lord Jesus, all those intimate wounds that are the root cause of my physical and emotional pain. I offer you my heart. Accept it, Lord, purify it, and give me the sentiments of your Divine Heart.   Grant me to regain peace and joy in the knowledge that you are the Resurrection and the Life. Make me an authentic witness to your resurrection, your victory over sin and death, and your loving presence among all men.    Amen.

Here is a prayer for healing of past trauma / PTSD:

Oh God, you who chose to enter the messiness of being human, Willing to perceive pain, endure tragedy, and hold memories that haunt, Be gracious to those who know trauma. Heal the shadowy places of their minds. Be a safe haven in moments of fear. Calm their somatic sensations And surround them with the comfort of trusted community. Heal their memories, Renew their joy, And restore them to life once again. May the assurance of your presence illuminate the pit of despair, May your light be more real than the darkest of moments, And may your love and peace be an other-worldly balm That makes us all whole - again and again and again.

Prayer for all victims of abuse:

Praise to you, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,  source of all consolation and hope.  By your Son's dying and rising He remains our light in every darkness,  our strength in every weakness. Be the refuge and guardian of all who suffer from abuse and violence. Comfort them and send healing for their wounds of body, soul and spirit. Rescue them from bitterness and shame and refresh them with your love. Heal the brokenness in all victims of abuse and revive the spirits of all who lament this sin. Help us to follow Jesus in drawing good from evil, life from death. Make us one with you in your love for justice as we deepen our respect for the dignity of every human life. Giver of peace, make us one in celebrating your praise,  both now and for ever.  Amen.

Prayer to seek God continually:

O Lord my God, I believe in you, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit... Insofar as I can, Insofar as you have given me the power, I have sought you. I became weary and I laboured. O Lord my God, My sole hope, help me to believe And never to cease seeking you. Grant that I may always and ardently Seek out your countenance. Give me the strength to seek you, For you help me to find you And you have more and more given me the hope of finding you. Here I am before you With my firmness and my infirmity. Preserve the first and heal the second.. Here I am before you With my strength and my ignorance. Where you have opened the door to me, Welcome me at the entrance; Where you have closed the door to me, Open to my cry; Enable me to remember you, To understand you, And to love you. Amen.

Another prayer that I find very comforting and healing to me is the Memorare:

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help,  or sought thy intercession,  was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins, my Mother. To thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me.  Amen.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

foudre sèche (snippet)

charles is afraid of lightning. he goes looking for ice in the middle of the night, and finds max's room instead.

++

The storm outside seems to ebb, but the rain still comes down in steady sheets. Max’s hand twitches like he has half an impulse to do something, say something. His somatic response could give him away, but he stops himself just in time.

Instead, Max nudges Charles’s knee with the lip of his bottle. “The Austin drive. ‘22. What was that like?”

“Incredible, honestly. Like… racing sunlight. Touching god.”

“You believe in god?”

Charles snorts and clasps his hands in prayer. “I race for an Italian team. Of course I believe in God, Max.”

“Hm.”

“I believe in engineering that doesn’t fail, when we are at three hundred kilometres an hour. That, I believe.”

“No higher power.”

“I did not say none. Just that we do for ourselves enough, and the rest is not ours to control.”

Max leans in. So close Charles can count the freckles on his brow, the minor constellation at the left side of his face.  His stare is a blue knife’s edge, the difference between camera obscura and bright, yawning space. 

“And this. This in your control?” Max asks, softer. Surprisingly smooth. 

Charles is not sure at what point their interaction would sharpen to this point. Perhaps it was an inevitability, the way they were destined to be intertwined, sitting in this room. Sixteen days apart and not much to separate them except raw desire for something – victory, connection, a compulsive need – now turned towards each other.

Because of all the people who know him in the world, all the camera smiles he had offered, the handshakes he had shared - if they peeled away all the noise and layers of how each interacted with the universe, it boils down to this: they are just boys, inexplicably connected. Pushing each other to go faster and reach the line first.

++

full fic coming soon 🌃

[lovely-rants-alot]

so ah. i was not productive at all today its like 10:21 am so there is still hope but GUESS WHAT ELSE I DID????

so basically i posted a translation of a ukrainian poem and now i have a new project where I will be becoming closer to ukrainian by translating poetry you should go look at that post I am quite proud of it Нічого такого не сталось – @jerry-the-leech on Tumblr and i will be continuing to do that because it was fun and also i might do some poems in spanish becasue I am learning it and it would be fun

but mainly ukrainian for now

Also currently i am looking at this thing called "culture bound syndrome" It's basically behairvoral phenomena are particular to a certain culture because of the history associated with it

I got down this rabbithole by researching what a wendigo was they are super cool I might write a story about them

So basically an example of culture bound syndrome is "susto", found in central and latin American cultures:

Susto (Latin America): Marked lethargy, anxiety, and somatic complainant symptom; it is thought to arise after a sudden fright or traumatic occurrence.

Cultural Context: In the same way, it is believed that for the indigenous people in Mexico and Central America, susto is the leaving of the soul from the body and, thus, requires soul healing.

(overview from Culture-bound Syndrome )

Susto comes from the word "asustar" which means to surprise. It basically meant you had like an encounter with the spiritual world, or something disturbing, or something else, and now you're panicking and all that stuff.

And the reason its sorta called that is because in a lot of more rural regions of latin America people don't go to the doctor a lot (like only in life threatening situations or broken bones) so they used to have to go like the shaman or the mujera sabie (wise woman)

Also a lot of these superstitions are influenced by catholicism in the latin americas, so there was "susto" and "envidia" (envidia is like the evil eye someone gave when they were jealous) and that's super interesting.

"Susto may be a culturally dependent variation of the symptoms of a panic attack, which is distinct from anxiety and depressive disorders." (Wikipedia) (yes I know I know)

so its a lot of similar symptoms to a panic attack, but culturally bound to latin America, specifically indigenous nations.

"Treatments among indigenous people are natural. Some natural treatments to susto consist of using plants as medicine; sweating out the toxins; and massaging to encourage blood flow. Prayer is a big part of the treatment of susto. In addition to prayer, healing rituals are also used, some of which include sweeping and giving gifts." (Wikipedia)

Susto has a lot of overlap with other existing disorders and symptoms, but like many culturally bound syndromes stuff, they are particular in history and happen in specific cultures

"Three syndromic subtypes of susto show a symptomatic overlap with depression, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and somatic disorder.

However, linguistic metaphors describing symptoms and perceived causes that are specific for Latin American culture support the concept of susto as a specific idiom of distress (e.g., loss of soul, shadow or ajayu; sunken, closed or white eyes; jumping and screaming in the night; being thrown to the ground).

In addition, if diagnostic criteria are met for mental disorders, then susto describes a perceived cause of psychopathological states (e.g., depressive disorder, PTSD, somatic disorder, panic disorder, generalized anxiety disorder).

Future research with people who have experienced susto is needed to clarify whether susto precedes the onset of other mental disorders (perceived cause) or whether it is a way of designating distress (idiom of distress)." national library of medicine Susto as a cultural conceptualization of distress: Existing research and aspects to consider for future investigations - PMC

Basically, susto does have a lot of overlap with existing mental states but it can also be a cause of them. So people are still researching

and the class is ending so i gtg I'm gonna send you more later

how are you lovely lovely?

(sorry this ended up being long. Sources:

Culture-bound Syndrome 

Susto - Wikipedia (*sighs* yes i realize but im gonna check their references later and they looked reliable at first glance and then I'm gonna read them too)

Susto as a cultural conceptualization of distress: Existing research and aspects to consider for future investigations - PMC

my spanish teacher)

thank you for litneing lmao

woah

that's really cool tbh

also you ate on that poem translation

I'm not gonna respond to everything but that's really interesting. I can't think of anything else to say besides it's interesting help

but like that really is something cool to look into

help I'm being so dry rn

also girl I don't give a fuck if you used wikipedia. I fucking love wikipedia. If I'm just looking into smth for myself I'm gonna use wikipedia

I'm good! My friend is gonna start making youtube videos and I'm gonna edit them or some of it so that's cool

erm not much has really changed since last time we talked

how are you?

[magdalene-spirit]

Mundus imaginalis—

That the One Collective Mind/Psyche-or in Jung's term, the collective unconscious is perfectly able to produce a myriad of other-than-human beings as well as the wildly diverse natural beings on this planet and in the cosmos, is evidence of the infinite creativity of the Cosmic Mind.

-Initiated by the Spirits, Frédérique Apfiel-Marglin

——

Realisation or actualisation is the Great Work-of knowing reality as it is in truth— the depth of the meaning of the words realisation & reality, in English, are lost in translation; & etymologically are rooted in the words pertaining to work, the great work, or magical working, that is the manifestation or the creation

But deeper to this, is realising the innate creative nature of the fundamental substratum or the imagination- of the dreamer or conjurer (the analogy used in the Upanishads) who brings forth appearances out of itself, by its very Nature, that in essence is WORK — the capacity to enact the Will, to be or to exist-that is the primal sense of 1, or l am-that pervades as All

———

The German word "Wirklichkeit" is derived from "wirklich" (real, true) and "-keit" (a suffix meaning "state of being").

The word "wirklich" itself comes from the verb "wirken" (to act, work, be effective) and the suffix"-lich" (like, pertaining to).

Therefore, "Wirklichkeit" means the "state of being real" or "reality".

———

Creation is the meditation of God-creator

Meditation is knowing my own reality-being without a second

———

However, way back, before humans were so immersed in reading & writing as we are today, 'philosophically' there wasn't a concept for what we call today by the word #meditation—

To enter the state of communion with the divine (that is the palpable feeling state of knowing your own knowing, felt somatically as fire & bliss & love & peace); the ancient mind, used the sound of voice in incantation & prayer & choir or instruments like drum or lyre to produce repetitive sounding, entraining consciousness (enchanting) into frequencies other than the waking state— where the experience of the divine was evoked- (or communion with spirits or emissaries of the divine).

[entamewitchlulu]

there is literally no reason to do this, but one of my favorite things to do for my D&D characters is to come up with a "spellbook" that lays out the verbal and somatic components of their spells.

For Rhys, I came up with a single word for each spell that is the "truename" of the natural force that he's calling on. Since he's a druid, his magic comes from requesting power from the natural world, so he speaks the truename to ask for their help: example, erris is the word I decided means wind, so that's the word he uses to cast gust.

I've given him some hand signs to go with them too, partially based off ASL like simon does in the honor among thieves movie :)

For my cleric Lucia, she works her spells by saying a short prayer, so I've been working on writing short phrases she would say for each spell she casts, a sort of invocation of the divine

I don't actually have a bard yet, but when I do I'm going to find songs I think match the spells and attach a short phrase of that song to each spell, and that's what my character would sing to cast :)

idk it's small and never actually comes up in games but i like it and it's fun

[missexquisite]

I asked Chat GPT what integration processes intuitive women experience, here’s what it said:

A deep integration process for a woman, in terms of psychological, spiritual, and personal development, involves aligning all aspects of herself—mind, body, emotions, and spirit—into a cohesive, authentic whole. This process helps her embrace her true self, heal past wounds, and cultivate inner wisdom and strength.

Key Aspects of Deep Integration:

    1.    Self-Awareness & Inner Work

    •    Understanding personal beliefs, conditioning, and patterns.

    •    Shadow work: acknowledging and integrating suppressed emotions and aspects of the self.

    •    Inner child healing to address past wounds and unmet needs.

    2.    Emotional Integration

    •    Learning to regulate emotions rather than suppressing or avoiding them.

    •    Developing self-compassion and emotional resilience.

    •    Embracing both feminine (intuitive, nurturing) and masculine (action-oriented, logical) energies within.

    3.    Spiritual Connection

    •    Exploring personal spirituality, whether through meditation, prayer, nature, or rituals.

    •    Trusting intuition and inner wisdom.

    •    Understanding cycles (e.g., menstrual, moon, or life phases) and their influence.

    4.    Body Connection & Healing

    •    Developing a healthy relationship with the body through movement (yoga, dance, etc.).

    •    Practicing body awareness and self-care.

    •    Healing trauma stored in the body through somatic work, breathwork, or therapy.

    5.    Authenticity & Empowerment

    •    Releasing societal expectations and conditioning.

    •    Speaking and living in alignment with one’s truth.

    •    Embracing sensuality, creativity, and self-expression.

    6.    Integration into Daily Life

    •    Setting boundaries that honor one’s well-being.

    •    Cultivating healthy relationships.

    •    Aligning career, purpose, and lifestyle with one’s authentic self.

This process is deeply personal and can take time, requiring patience and self-love.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/10.1098/rspb.2021.2474

Men are less religious in more gender-equal countries

By: Jordan W. Moon, Adam E. Tratner and Melissa M. McDonald

Published: Feb 2, 2022

Abstract

Sex differences in religiosity are cross-culturally common and robust, yet it is unclear why sex differences in some cultures are larger than in others. Although women are more religious than men in most countries, religions frequently provide asymmetrical benefits to men at the expense of women. Two global analyses (51 countries and 74 countries) found that country-level gender equality was consistently and negatively associated with religiousness (i.e. religious attendance, reported importance of God and frequency of prayer) for men, more than for women, leading to a larger sex difference in religiousness in more gender-equal countries. Results were especially robust for religious attendance, and hold accounting for country-level wealth, as well as individuals' religious affiliation, the moralization of sexuality, age and education level. We interpret results through a rational choice lens, which assumes that people are more drawn to religion when it is consistent with their reproductive goals.

Men are less religious in more gender-equal countries

Sex differences in religiosity represent one of the most consistent findings in the psychology of religion, and are often described as nearly universal [1,2]. Some researchers have suggested that women (versus men) are more prone to religious beliefs because they have a greater propensity for mentalizing (the ability to reason about and represent others' minds) [3], decreased risk tolerance [4] and greater empathic concern [5]—all of which are associated with greater religious belief. Yet women are not always more religious—in some cultures, these differences are minimal or even reversed [6–8]. As of yet, it is unclear why there is cultural variation in sex differences in religiosity.

We draw on the rational choice model of religious engagement, which suggests that people adopt religious beliefs and practices depending on whether their goals are congruent with religious lifestyles [9,10]. We also take a functional approach, based on the premises that religious beliefs and practices are sensitive to context or ‘facts on the ground’ [11,12]. That is, rather than providing only symbolic benefits or comfort, many religious beliefs and rituals may be tools that developed through cultural evolution because they promote reproductive success.

In particular, religions seem closely linked to the control of reproductive behaviour. Most religions impose rules about sexuality and sex roles—who can have sex and with whom, who cares for children and how families are structured [12]. One of the most consistent correlates of religiousness worldwide is an opposition to sexual promiscuity (i.e. restricted sociosexuality [13,14]). A rational choice approach might predict that people who prefer high-investment, long-term, monogamous mating strategies will be drawn to religion precisely because it seeks to make sexual promiscuity more costly though anti-promiscuity norms and punishment [9,15,16]. None of this is to suggest that religion is necessary to control others' sexual behaviour, but that supernatural enforcement is one of several cultural tools of social control—one that is particularly powerful [17].

There is indeed evidence that religious norms and practices can affect several life-history trade-offs [18]. All organisms must choose how to allocate energy into growth, somatic maintenance and reproduction—taken holistically, there is a fitness trade-off between future and current reproduction [19]. This can be conceptualized as spanning three fundamental trade-offs: current versus future reproduction, quality versus quantity of offspring and mating versus parenting effort [20]. To the extent that religions increase paternal certainty [21,22], they can increase the incentives for men to invest in parenting [23,24]. There is also a trade-off between offspring quality and quantity, such that greater numbers of offspring are generally associated with less investment in each child [25]. This trade-off seems to be less steep among religious individuals, however, probably as a result of increased biparental care and alloparenting, in which parents, extended relatives and non-relatives provide care and resources for offspring [26,27]. Thus, religion can be especially appealing to individuals following these high-investment mating strategies, whereas people who seek sexual promiscuity may benefit more from eschewing religion.

What are the benefits of religion for women? Women invest more in offspring than men (e.g. nine months of pregnancy as well as time spent in child care), and are more discriminating in selecting mates [28,29]. Mate choice is the best way for women to advance their reproductive fitness; the regulation of monogamy that religion often affords protects that choice by incentivizing their partner to invest in their relationship and offspring. Indeed, because some males are more sought after as mates than others, these high-quality males have higher reproductive rates than females, and benefit from minimizing their investment across many offspring [30]. One straightforward benefit of religion for women, then, is it can prevent the desertion of high-value mates. That is, religious norms make it more costly for men to abandon their current mates or offspring by imposing sanctions or social pressure. This is especially true for religions that promote normative monogamy, which causes a more equitable distribution of mates [31]. In sum, women tend to be more interested in long-term exclusive relationships than men [28], and religion might appeal to them for this reason. This seems to partially explain sex differences in religiosity: some analyses have found that sex differences in religiosity disappear or are reduced when accounting for sociosexual attitudes [16].

However, religious norms often go beyond simply prohibiting promiscuity, and many religious practices seem to benefit men at the expense of women. This asymmetry can take several forms. Women may be blamed for their own rape [32] and held responsible for the sexual misconduct of men (e.g. through rules about modesty). Specific religious rituals or taboos may also benefit men at the expense of women—several scholars have outlined how veiling seems more consistent with male (versus female) interests, for instance as a tool for mate guarding [33–36]. Further, some rituals seem designed specifically to suppress female sexuality. Among the Dogon of Mali, the indigenous religion promotes menstrual taboos, which includes women being exiled in uncomfortable menstrual huts. Use of these huts (e.g. after a woman's most recent childbirth) sends an honest signal that a woman is fertile, leading husbands and their families to engage in precautions to avoid cuckoldry (e.g. postmenstrual copulation). Genetic data reveal that men who practice the traditional religion, as opposed to other religions (e.g. Christianity), have significantly lower risk of cuckoldry [21].1

For men in particular, these religious benefits might depend on context. The extent to which women and men share equal rights, responsibilities and opportunities in society (i.e. gender equality) may alter the incentives for men and women to engage with religious beliefs and practices. In cultures with less gender equality, the subjugation of women to advance men's interests might be more acceptable—and women may also be less empowered to prevent their oppression. Thus, in these countries, religion might be more useful to men as a tool of social influence. By contrast, in more gender-equal cultures that discourage restrictive religious practices for women, religion may afford fewer reproductive benefits to men because they cannot impose social control over women, and thus religion is less appealing.

Consistent with this notion, we hypothesized that gender equality would interact with sex, such that sex differences in religiousness (i.e. women being more religious than men) would be larger in more gender-equal countries. We were agnostic about what would drive this effect, only that the relationship between gender-equity and religiousness would be more negative for men than it is for women. We note, however, that many wealthy countries tend to have greater gender equality and are often more secular [41], so it would be surprising to find a positive slope for either men or women.

Our hypothesis was derived by considering several recent findings documenting a ‘gender equality paradox’—in more egalitarian societies, sex differences are often larger. This pattern has been found with sex differences in personality [42,43], moral judgements [44], career choice [45,46] and a variety of aesthetic preferences [47]. This pattern is perceived as paradoxical, as many people would intuit that gender equality would reduce inequalities or allow boys and girls to be socialized in ways that result in greater similarity. A common explanation is that egalitarian societies allow individuals to make their own decisions with fewer institutional barriers and less regard for what others might think. Rather than leading to the same outcomes for men and women, it allows them to express their diverging preferences, thereby resulting in greater sex differences [47–49].

Sex differences in religiousness may follow a similar pattern. In societies with less gender equality, men may be better able to derive reproductive benefits from religion, resulting in higher religiousness among men. For women, however, the benefits of religious behaviour may be less dependent on the cultural context; for instance, religious groups tend to provide more frequent alloparenting, and this might be the case regardless of a society's gender equality; in fact, the benefits of alloparenting could be even larger in more egalitarian societies, where people are less embedded in kin networks that might otherwise engage in alloparenting [26]. That is to say, because women can acquire substantial reproductive benefits from religious involvement, there may be greater incentive for women (compared to men) to be religious, particularly in societies that have achieved greater gender equality (figure 1).

[ Figure 1. Global Gender Gap Index (2018) scores by country [50]. Higher scores (darker colours) indicate greater gender equality. Countries with no data are in grey. Figure created using the rworldmap package [51]. (Online version in colour.) ]

[..]

Discussion

These data show that gender equality across cultures consistently and negatively predicts religious belief and behaviour among men, but the effect is small and inconsistent for women. This interaction between gender equality and participant sex holds in most of the models we ran, even when accounting for the clustering of countries within sub-regions, the religious denominations of participants, sociosexuality, age, education and country-level wealth.

The results were particularly strong with religious attendance as an outcome; in all such models there was a consistent negative relationship between gender equality and religious attendance for men, but no effect for women. We suggest that religious attendance (versus private religious behaviour or belief) is the outcome most relevant to our hypothesis. That is, it is attendance and overt participation that we would expect to be associated with the reproductive outcomes of interest. Overt religious participation may allow men to more easily monitor women, police sexual behaviour or to signal their value as a mate via religious commitment.

In addition, the focal results were driven by gender equality in education and economic participation, but not political power or health/survival. These results could be consistent with the view of religion as a ‘costly signal’ to indicate qualities such as trustworthiness, dedication to one's family or even simply dedication to one's group [7,37–39,62–64]; gender equality might also influence the payoffs of using religion as a costly signal. For instance, there is some evidence that women's economic dependence on men—which makes paternal certainty more critical—facilitates moralization of promiscuity [65]. It follows, then, that women who are dependent on men (i.e. when gender equality is low) may prioritize signals of paternal investment and long-term commitment; this could, in turn, incentivise men in these societies to use religion as a signal of their willingness to invest in their offspring [7,39].

One could also predict the same pattern by considering other functions of religion. For example, religion fosters cooperation and ingroup cohesion [66,67] and can help people manage their existential insecurities [41]. Indeed, religions are especially attractive to people after facing mortal threats, such as intergroup conflict [68]. One alternative explanation, then, could be that countries that have achieved greater gender equality face fewer threats that require male coalitional coordination (e.g. warfare); therefore, people (particularly men) in these countries are less likely to view religion as necessary. We reiterate, however, that our analyses are unable to reveal the mechanism behind the observed effects, or to adjudicate between alternative explanations.

Our hypothesis stems from a rational choice perspective on religion [9], suggesting that engagement in religious behaviours and beliefs might stem partly from the reproductive benefits people acquire from them [9,16,18]. Because religions often involve costly behaviour [69,70], one should expect religious engagement to be more likely when the benefits outweigh the costs. If indeed one of the functions of religion is reproductive support that often favours men over women, and if the manipulation of women in such ways (e.g. through modesty norms or proscribing sexual promiscuity) is less accepted in more gender-equal societies, the costs may outweigh the benefits for men in these societies, resulting in lower religiousness among men.

[mweothe11e]

OMG talk about luck, just saw that this game open also here's my information

INITIALS: SG

NICKNAME : Asteria

Q: What mythical/fictional creature do i think or feel nearly embodies my dark side

A; Shapeshifter suits my dark/shadow side appropriately as it's temperament is unstable, quirky and they carry out their motives discreetly and eerily similar to mine

Hi SG,

Thank you so much for participating in my Inner Demons ask game.

When you mentioned shapeshifter, it reminded me of the boggart in Harry Potter. Maybe you're adaptable to situations and can think on your feet?

So the cards I pulled are: Ace of Coins, Queen of Wands, 9 of Swords

Now this is a rather unexpected Inner Demon... Is it that you tend to manifest your fears and worst nightmares? But you struggle to manifest the life that you want? Another way would be everyone you wish good luck gets the wish that they want but it seems that good luck didn't fall onto you. It's like you feel like a wish-granting genie that can't wish for their own freedom.

Just like Aladdin's Genie, Genie is also a shapeshifter, but it's more for the convenience of the wisher, never just for the Genie. This is actually the first Inner demon that's really only noticed by yourself. It's like you have the ability to make others' dreams come true, except never of your own.

This Inner Demon is what I call the Master Manifester. What you struggle to understand is that you are someone's sign and answered prayer. But it doesn't mean that's all you ever are. You can grant wishes, even your own. The only thing is, you have to remove that old mindset of all being the genie in the lamp.

You are a modern-day Magician. You have the ability to make everyone's wishes come true, including yours. But you have to actually believe that you have control over your life. That's the plot twist in your inner demon. This is your sign to positive tell yourself that "Delulu is the Solulu"~ Just remember, be open to blessings with harm to none, okay?

So being able to manifest can go either way, so for it to be effortless, you have to do so with the least resistance? Meaning, like wishing others well without any expectations, that's how you casually manifest. The same can be true about your worst fears.

Remember, your focus is your energy; whatever you put your focus on is what manifests into reality. So if you keep caving into to your fears and insecurities, well... the universe might misinterpret is as you wanting more of that in your life.

So what you desire is actually you becoming more assertive and in control over your life. You don't want to just look good, but also feel great in your body. You don't want to just have money to have roof over your head, you want to have a fulfilling well compensated career. It's like, why only desire one when you can manifest to have it all?

Interestingly enough, I heard Neville Goddard. Do what you will with that information.

Now what you need to incorporate with your manifesting skills to achieve this confident era in your life is to deal with your insecurities, face your fears, and not let your nightmares and lack of self-esteem get the best out of you. Now this is where your self-motivated research comes in. If therapy helps you rid of your limiting beliefs, do that. If somatic therapy helps, go do that. If CBT helps you deal with your anxieties and fears, go try that out.

You need to first deal with what is blocking you from establishing a healthier foundation for your abundance mindset, before jumping in the gun to manifest the life of your dreams. I heard, your nervous system has been severely dysregulated and your stress levels are clearly showing in your skin and overall health. To see the results, you have to start within.

This concludes the end of your reading. Do let me know how this resonates with you. Feel free to show some support via my Buy Me A Coffee here (This reading is for entertainment purposes only.)

[crowehorte]

Daily Grimoire Challenge Day 1

From the @2024-grimoire-challenge Week 1 Prompt List

Spell: A set of written instructions that outline the material, verbal, and somatic components of a magic working with a specific intended outcome.

Ritual: The process of casting a spell.

Lavender A genus of 47 plants from the mint family. Native to the "Old World," lavender is found across Europe, north and eastern Africa, and southwest Asia all the way into India. It is also know as Spikenard or simply Nard, with the origins either stemming from the ancient Greek city of Naarda or the sanskrit word Nalada. The late Latin name used commonly in modern times comes from Lavandarius, which refers to lavanda (things to be washed) and the verb lavo (to wash).

Lavender grows best in sandy or gravelly soil and requires a full 6 to 8 hours of direct sunlight. Too much humidity or water in the soil can cause fungi to grow and roots to rot, which is why well-draining soil is required for it to grow well. English lavender has a germination period of 14 to 28 days and reaches full maturity after 100 to 110 days.

It's frequently used in essential oils and potpourri mixes for its fresh, sweet scent with faint citrusy notes, and it's often paired with Chamomile in aroma therapy blends dedicated to relaxing and soothing the mind. As a spice, it's often added to desserts or paired with mild sheep or goat milk cheeses. Lavender buds can be steeped in sugar and boiled to create a syrup that can be added to coffee, tea, and baked goods, and it pairs well with chocolate flavoring.

Lavender has been used as an ingredient in incense and perfumes throughout the centuries, and has been referenced in the Christian bible. It's commonly associated with St Joseph of the Catholic faith; the patron saint of fathers, families, expecting mothers, unborn children, virgins, and workers. He is invoked in prayers regarding employment and vocation, happy marriages, grace in death, and daily protection.

In my experience, lavender is frequently used as a spell component used in purification, protection, and general blessing spells. Given the association with St Joseph, the frequency it appears in lotions and soaps, and how it's used to aid in sleep and relaxation, I think that its mundane uses heavily inform its magical use. We associate it with cleanliness and good vibes, and fathers are often our first protectors, so it makes sense to use it in this way.

[visardistofelphame]

1, 2, 5, 7, 17, 18, 20 👀👀👀

What kind of practitioner do you identify as?

Do you have any daily practices? What are they?

What types of magic are you not willing to do?

How do you feel about "problematic" workings (baneful workings, love workings, health workings, doing workings on others without consent, etc)?

Do you venerate or work with any deities?

Do you venerate or work with any entities or spirits?

What's your unpopular opinion regarding magic, spirituality or religion?

Oh heck! Guess I'll dive right on into it X'D

I feel like witch and occultist would be the best identifiers for myself. I could technically call myself Wiccan, but I never really felt connected to it. I did use it when I started in my late teens, but as I got more knowledgeable I didn't feel much from it anymore.

For daily practices, I don't really have much. I have various things I do sorta throughout the month. That said, I do morning and night prayers that are somatic based, so more focused on the movement and intent vs any specific words. There are words associated with it, but I found that I much more like the motion and feeling accompanied by silence.

I try to avoid techniques and practices that focus around mythology and pantheons that I don't very much associated with. Not out of any specific reason outside of a lack of any personal interest. I'm not a big fan of what are basically hazing rites, mostly because they're tedious and dangerous for little reason outside of shock value.

This sort of blends into the next question. I have my own moral specifications that I'm picky about when it comes to these sorts of workings. I feel like there is a time and place for most things, though some had their time back in the past. Particuarly a lot of "love magic" was in a time when people were stuck with their respective marriage situation, so they literally needed to resort to magic to have much of any say. I think its all about having a nuance understanding of what is reasonable and respectable.

Yeah! I have a few gods, some I can name and others that are oathbound. I'd describe myself as a medium soft polytheist, so some I do believe to be aspects/masks of a greater current. Lucifer, Diana, Venus, Fortuna to name a few. Though I want to point out that I'm not really focused around hellenistic reconstructionalism. I'd say that most of my conceptualizing of them is focused in the meideval period and onwards, and very much focused on their continual mystery traditions that survived for various lengths of time.

And definitely a yes for this, though I'd say I'm much more private about it than I was in the past. Spirits of the dead, the hidden folk, elementals, spirits of nature, goetia, etc etc. That said, it has been unfortunately difficult to really bond with the local dwelling spirits. Its hard when houses are infected by greed that doesn't allow people to flurish within them.

For unpopular opinions? Uhhh this was actually really difficult. I feel like mine are rather luke warm, given what my peers also believe :') I legit spent a good 10 minutes trying to figure one out. I guess one is that I think people should read more books and read the books those ones reference to form their own opinions vs just getting caught up in the echo chamber (whether its social media or irl communities). We're all guilty of it, and its a lesson that I've learned myself.

[traumacatholic]

Will you please pray for my grandma? She's 91 years old and suffering from kidney insufficiency. It can still be treated but my grandpa died from kidney damage and she's still so traumatized from that time that she doesn't go to the doctor and ignores her own illness. I'm very worried for her. Thank you💖

Of course, I'm so sorry to hear that's she's struggling with medical trauma on top of her illness. Have you tried seeing if you can speak to a doctor to see what they can recommend to help make it easier for her to access the help that she needs? Hopefully you can find someone that has experience of dealing with medical trauma and can help work on some solutions.

Definitely also look into mental health charities, charities dedicated to the elderly, and for the specific medical issue she has. I'm sure a lot of people have accessed their services either directly or on behalf of someone with medical trauma and bringing in these other perspectives might help offer some suggestions.

Here is a prayer for those struggling with trauma:

Oh God, you who chose to enter the messiness of being human, Willing to perceive pain, endure tragedy, and hold memories that haunt, Be gracious to those who know trauma. Heal the shadowy places of their minds. Be a safe haven in moments of fear. Calm their somatic sensations And surround them with the comfort of trusted community. Heal their memories, Renew their joy, And restore them to life once again. May the assurance of your presence illuminate the pit of despair, May your light be more real than the darkest of moments, And may your love and peace be an other-worldly balm That makes us all whole - again and again and again.

Here is a prayer for all those that are sick:

O Lord Almighty, healer of our souls and bodies, Who putteth down and raiseth up, Who chastiseth and health also; now, in Thy great mercy, visit our brothers and sisters who are sick. Stretch forth Thy hand that is full of healing and health, and raise them up, and cure them of their illness. Put away from them the spirit of disease and of every malady, pain and fever to which they are bound. And if they have sins and transgressions, grant to them remission and forgiveness, for Thou lovest humankind. Yea, O Lord my God, have pity on Thy creation, through the compassions of Thine only-begotten Son, together with Thine all-holy, good, and life-creating Spirit, with whom Thou art blessed, both now and ever, and to ages of ages.

And here's a prayer to pray specifically for someone that is sick:

O Lord, Healer of our bodies and souls, visit name with Your loving-kindness and stretch forth Your hand of healing. Raise her up from this bed of sickness, and heal her of all disease, pain, and fever that is binding her. We bless and honour You, our most holy Father, gracious Son, and life-creating Spirit, both now and forever. Amen. Almighty God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, because You love mankind, pity Your creation. Your only-begotten Son taught us that not even the smallest sparrow falls to the ground without Your knowledge. We pray to You for Your servant [name here], for the healing of body and soul. Calm her with confidence in the fullness of Your love. To You belongs all our praise and worship, to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, unto ages of ages. Amen