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tordenvejr · 2 years

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Hey Vic 🌠 I've recently been going through a terrible, terrible heartbreak. The person who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with suddenly showed up at my apartment out of the blue (he'd spent the summer in the states for vacation) with every single item I'd ever given him in rubbish bags and a vague note to go with it. I was given no true reason as to why. The note didn't explain anything - just everything he wanted back and told me not to harm myself. He even rummaged through my room to fetch everything he'd given me while I wasn't even home. It was cruel. He came back a completely different person than the one I knew - loving, generous, thoughtful, kind - somehow turned into frightening aggression and hatred for everything. He was the best thing that ever happened to me. My high school sweetheart, my everything.

I waited a month to say anything to him because I wanted to try and get my thoughts together - and I did it via email since I've been avoiding my social media like the plague. I received a response about 4 days later and it's... brutal just from looking at the subject of it. I can't bring myself to read it and I don't think I will be able to for a long, long time. I just wanted to apologize for anything I may have done that could've caused it. I know for certain I didn't do anything immoral or hurtful to him. I was devoted to him. I loved him. But... Vic, he threw me away. I forgave him for doing so, too. I always will forgive him. I just don't understand why.

I've been scrambling to pick up the pieces of myself that feel so lost and so torn before my university classes begin but it is incredibly difficult. I find signs of him in every single thing I do. Even the simplest of things - like drinking a glass of water or walking outdoors. Life will always be different without him in it.

I haven't been able to talk to anyone about this, so thank you for letting me share this with you. I am just in a vulnerable place and I am fighting to keep going. I was just wondering if you could share some advice?

Anon 💛

hello 💛 i'm sorry to hear this, it sounds very difficult and painful.

when a trauma happens when we least expect it, when our defenses are down, when we think everything is okay, it freezes us all the more, it prevents us from having a full embodied and animated response to the trauma and to the healing process that follows. this means it affects your body even more. a trauma is the state of being frozen in time and in a behavior that was stunned out of movement and out of finishing. that's how traumas get stuck in our body, they were denied the movement of action and release.

be aware that you may benefit from a more physical approach to trauma work in order to unfreeze your body, to breathe back movement into the startled and hurting parts of you, the parts that are confused and can't believe that this happened.

what i get from the way you're sharing this is that there's a lot of responsibility taking which is a good thing when it's in balance with holding the other accountable for their part - but i am not seeing you hold him accountable. and i'm seeing a lot of what seems like automatic and instinctual self blame.

i have some questions that i'd like you to turn inwards:

• why is the first person you're blaming yourself?

• why do you want to apologize when you aren't even aware what you did wrong or if you even did anything wrong?

you mention forgiving him right away and how you always would. why are you forgiving him? what is uncomfortable in allowing yourself not to forgive him for a while? what do you think or feel that it would say about you if you didn't instantly forgive him? what is uncomfortable in being angry at him? frustrated? you are skipping very, very vital responses when you jump straight to forgiveness and internal peace making and i have to tell you - when you repress any feelings that are not saintlike it may bring you the instant relief of not having to deal with it now, but it will almost always lead to resentment and bitterness.

allow all of your emotions. you said, "he threw me away", that is a horrible way to treat someone that you had a relationship with, it is disrespectful, cruel and immature. it is short of how you should treat any other person, and much less someone you've loved. you have every right to be frustrated, angry or furious. in this situation it is healthy for you to get fucking pissed.

you cannot move through grief if you skip the stage of anger.

i made this list of prompts for parting ways for another anon the other day, but some questions may be helpful for you as well. i would recommend simply feeling your angry feelings before beginning to intellectualize them though. if you want more direct support you can contact me via my website for updates on my practice and services.

#answered

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heyyy-hey-babyyy · 4 years

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When We Were Young (part VIII)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here ;

Read part IV here ; Read part V here ; Read part VI here

Read part VII here

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, *moments of assault*

**This chapter contains images of assault. Please be aware if this is trigging for you!

B/N: I’m getting a little lost in my own timeline, so apologies for any inaccuracies... All mistakes I claim as my own.

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

1773 words

All you could hear was the constant dripping of the pipes above you, one splashing cold water on the back of your neck. Greg hadn’t left you alone after unbuttoning Dean’s flannel, and rather decided to strip you down and shackle your hands above your head again after. Then he walked out of the room, leaving you shivering, still leaning on your naked and bruised knees, arms growing numb above you.

You had to have been in the same position for over eight hours or so after you factored in how long you might have been passed out, and your body felt like it was ready to snap in half. You couldn’t lift your head anymore, though you wanted to move out of the dripping water, which felt like standing under a cold shower. But you couldn’t be too worried about it, because suddenly you felt an arm snake around your waist and lift you to your feet. You felt yourself fall into a slight feeling of hope, thinking that perhaps Dean had finally come for you. But your hopes were dashed when Greg whispered in your ear.

“Okay, hunny-bear, time to make it up to me.” You whimpered slightly in response, and you felt Greg release his hold on your waist, your body crashing roughly to the floor, chains yanking your arms above your head again almost ripping your limbs from their sockets. You cried out with what energy you had left, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Oh dear. I’m sorry hunny, I didn’t realize you were this weak already...” He trailed off, pulling you to a standing position again. He spoke like he cared about you, but you heard the smile behind his voice, relishing in the fact that you couldn’t fight back right now. “I’ll make sure to be gentle,” he whispered in your ear again, making you shudder, tears continuing to fall down your face.

Greg grabbed the back of your neck, bending you at the waist and holding you up on your own legs, rendering you completely powerless, afraid he would snap your neck if he felt like it. You felt fear course through your body as her rubbed his other hand slowly down your exposed back tracing a long scar down your side that you got from a vampire hunt, ending at your hip bone. You hated the way he seemed to be caring for you, his movements slow and careful, and your mind quickly drifted to Dean. Shaking your head, you dislodged the hunter’s green eyes from your mind, knowing you would need to repress this memory later on and it would be impossible if Dean was anywhere near it. Greg felt you shaking your head, and he stilled his movements, turning to stand in front of you instead, hand still at your neck.

“What’s wrong, hunny?” He lifted your head so that you were forced to look into his eyes, and he smiled knowingly. “Oh, I get it. You’ve moved on.” He gave you a small pout and you avoided his gaze. “It’s okay, I want this to be good for you. And honestly, it doesn’t matter what body I’m in anyway. It feels amazing either way.” You whipped your head around, suddenly staring into bright green eyes. Gasping loudly, you were suddenly pulled forward toward the lips of Dean Winchester. You froze, but felt yourself kissing him back slightly, your brain playing tricks on you. Dean pulled away and smiled at you widely, and you smiled back until he opened his mouth.

“That’s right, hunny-bear. Now we can both be comfortable.” ‘Dean’ disappeared from your view and you felt a small bout of strength, your body fighting against the chains holding you in place, trying to escape from the nightmare your brain couldn’t even imagine up. But Greg’s hands held you tight to him, and you felt his hips move against you. You were prepared to accept this happening to you at the hands of Greg, but you couldn’t get the image of Dean standing before you in the damp room out of your head. And though you kept repeating to yourself that it wasn’t Dean, it was becoming impossible as Greg continued to speak, Dean’s gruff voice floating up to you.

“Alright hunny,” he cooed, stroking up and down your back as you heard the zipper of his jeans. “Are you ready for me?”

You didn’t respond, your mind shutting down like it had so many times before to help you survive this moment. You felt some pressure to your core, and then your body was moving back and forth, but you felt numb, and didn’t say a word. You weren’t sure how long Greg used you, but when he was done, he pulled out, zipped back up, and came to stand in front of you. Dean’s body came into view, and he looked concerned, as he swiped at the tears you didn’t realize were streaming down your face, cupping your cheek. You involuntarily leaned into it, and when you looked up again, Greg was staring into your eyes. You leaned out of his grasp, and he sighed, pulling you forward to kiss you on the top of the head.

“I have something I have to do hunny-bear. I’ll be back soon.” And just like that he was gone, leaving you hanging from the chains, bent at the waist.

You started to sob silently, knowing that Greg didn’t destroy you 13 years ago. He destroyed you now, using the only man you felt comfortable with against you. Being a hunter you didn’t believe in anything you couldn’t see, so you often refused to believe in God, but in that moment you felt yourself praying, reaching out to anything or anyone to help you.

You suddenly heard the rush of wind and the flutter of wings, as a figure appeared in front of you. Too tired to react you attempted to move away from whoever had appeared in the room, when you felt a soft hand on your cheek, causing a warmth to spread throughout your body.

“Hello, Y/N.” The figure began and you looked up into bright blue eyes. “I heard your prayer. My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.” You stared up at the man in disbelief before your world went black.

-----------

Cas disappeared as quickly as he appeared and Dean spun around looking for him in the small room.

“Cas!” He yelled into the emptiness, but the angel didn’t reappear. Dean scoffed, returning to find Sam and Bobby in the living room. Sam rose to his feet when Dean entered, looking questioningly behind him, anticipating Cas following Dean. Dean shook his head, throwing his hands up the air, when he heard the flutter of wings behind him again. The look on Sam’s face made Dean whip around nervously afraid of what he might find behind him.

Cas was standing in the doorway to the office holding Y/N tightly in his arms. He had shed his trench coat and it was wrapped around an unmistakingly naked Y/N like a towel.

“Hello Dean,” Cas repeated for the second time in 20 minutes, and Dean rushed forward taking Y/N out of Cas’ arms and cradling you tightly to his chest. You looked as if you were sleeping, but your face looked like you were in pain, stuck in whatever nightmare you were being forced into. Bobby and Sam rushed over to where Dean stood holding you, both men looking murderous.

“Cas, what happened?!” Sam was yelling, unable to control his emotions, and Castiel stood awkwardly, not having the people skills to deal with human emotions this complex. He took a beat or two to answer, but Dean cut him off, not ready to hear the story while you were still in the room.

Dean shifted you slightly in his arms and your face relaxed as he hiked you up, your head resting in the crook of his neck. He didn’t want to leave you alone right now, but he wanted you to be more comfortable as you slept, and didn’t want you to be naked anymore. He motioned with his head for his brother to follow him upstairs. Sam followed, and as they reached the stairs Dean spoke over his shoulder.

“Cas, stick around.” Cas nodded once, and Bobby motioned for him to sit on the couch him and Sam had just vacated. Cas sat awkwardly fixing his stare on the wall ahead of him, as Bobby left the room.

Dean walked toward Bobby’s room upstairs knowing you would feel most comfortable there if you woke up while they were downstairs talking to Cas. Sam opened the door for him, and stood in the doorway as you placed Y/N down on the soft blankets.

“Sam,” Dean spoke up, making sure you were fully covered with Cas’ trench coat for the moment after you were jostled about a bit. “Can you find Y/N’s bag and get maybe some sleep shorts, or something we can get on her easily?” Sam nodded, disappearing from the room. You took a second to take in Y/N’s appearance, not seeing any signs that you had been hurt, but you figured you’d learn the extent of the injuries from Cas, as Dean was sure he healed you before bringing you here. He knew Cas wouldn’t without permission, but he also secretly hoped that Cas had scrubbed your memories of whatever had happened in the hours that you were missing.

Sam returned while he was lost in his thoughts, clearing his throat simply. Dean turned around and Sam handed him a pair of Y/N’s loose shorts and one of Sam’s flannels, figuring it would work best to cover her.

“Can you help me?” Dean asked his brother awkwardly, not wanting to betray Y/N’s trust, especially not when you were sleeping. Sam nodded coming forward while Dean placed each of your feet carefully in the leg holds of the shorts. You were still in a deep sleep, your chest rising and falling slowly, so Dean pulled the shorts up your legs, careful to not touch you, and both brothers looked away while Dean slid your shorts up over your hips and Sam moved the bottom of the trench coat out of the way. They repeated the same process to move Sam’s flannel over your head and slip your hands into the sleeves. Sam grabbed Cas’ trench coat off the bed and left the room, nodding once at Dean with pain in his eyes.

Dean couldn’t stop looking at you, relishing in how peaceful you looked now that you were curled up in the blankets with familiar smells all around. He felt a tear slip down over his cheeks, and he swiped at it angrily, muttering to himself that he didn’t deserve to cry right now. Leaning forward he pressed his lips softly to your head and you stirred lightly, letting out a dreamy sigh, and Dean stood intent on killing the monster that hurt you before you even woke up and bringing his head to you as a trophy.

Read part IX here

When We Were Young Tag List: @vicmc624 @woundedxsmile @akshi8278

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mexashepot · 4 years

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Question:

I wonder how Israeli teenagers deal with wars. I haven't managed to find a lot of information about it. Can you help me out?

Thank you!

They don’t. Israel has a MASSIVE problem with undiagnosed and untreated PTSD.

We are traumatised and just laugh it off, and unless it gets to the point of extreme PTSD (constant hallucinations etc.), nobody will even consider therapy because it is just SO widely common. We just deny it is a problem, because everyone is the same. (Until they aren’t...)

My own personal trauma stems from the 2nd intifada, not wars, as do the traumas of most Israeli millennials my age, and to THIS day I have flashbacks every time I hear a strong, sudden noise that can resemble a bomb, and to this day every time I take the bus I am very well aware it may explode at any given moment, and that we will all find our deaths on that bus. And that is not just me - it is a very normal trail of thought for any Israeli born in the late 80′s-early 90′s and raised in a big city (Particularly Jerusalem, the Tel Aviv metropolitan and Haifa, but not only). I remember when in 10th grade (so when we were 16), someone in my class started talking about her own traumas and fears as a result of the 2nd intifada (the word ‘trauma’ of course wasn’t used, we are very Fine thank you), and how every sudden noise startles her, and how getting on the bus is similar to willingly getting on the ride to your death etc. and we were all like ‘oh my god you too? I thought I was the only one!!!’ my entire fucking CLASS had the exact same traumas and fears and triggers but everyone thought she was the only one who had these thoughts and so we never fucking talked about it, and just pretended to be ‘normal’.

And tbh even then, after realising I share this psychological burden with pretty much every compatriot my age, I never thought there was anything abnormal about it? it wasn’t until later, in my fucking early 20′s, that I realised ‘oh shit, that is not normal. We are not normal’. What it took was exposure to Westeners and the realisation that there are people who DON’T fear for their lives going down the street because they never experienced terrorism on the reg??? shocking concept. It was on a vacation abroad, where I met with a Northern European friend, and then there was suddenly a loud, sudden noise and I just... lost it, and started shaking, breathing heavily, Reliving The Past(tm), being visibly distressed etc. and my friend was all so worried and confused over my reaction and I just explained nonchalantly (when I could breathe properly again, ofc) to her that ‘oh this is just my reaction to sudden noises my brain might mistake for bombing noises. No biggie, this happens every once in a while, it’s normal’. Needless to say, she was horrified of how easily and normally I talked about it.

It was afterwards that I realised our cultural issue with trauma and PTSD, and worse, our collective repression of anything to do with that. We have this dichotomic mentality where we think our collective and personal PTSD symptoms are normal and therefore don’t do anything about them, but simultaneously, if you do exhibit it in a way that is not ‘normal’ (TALKING about it and acknowledging it, for example), then you are the abnormal one. And nobody wants to be the abnormal freak so we just repress, deny and just laugh it through.

So to answer your question as to how Israeli teenagers deal with wars: they don’t. The adults don’t either.

I am sorry if this is too personal and or too rant-y/ramble-y and/or incoherent and incohesive, your ask just brought back a lot of Memories and thoughts and feelings

#ask #anon #reply #terrorism //#Israeli tag #Anonymous #PTSD #I guess

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obsessionsposts · 5 years

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Maw of the Beast

Warnings: mentions of abuse / slight nsfw.

Today is Halloween which meant a whole week vacation from the college.

You are pretty excited to see what people of Gotham has to offer this year from Carved pumpkins, free treats, wearing costumes, and your personal favourite reading urban legends.

Halloween has always been your most cherished holiday since you were a child, for its morbidity and gothic atmosphere attracted you just like how moths are attracted to light.

But what you didn't account for was a visit from the master of fear also known as the scarecrow.

🍁🎃🍁

Laying comfortably on your bed, smothering yourself underneath the warm welcoming covers of your bed as you read the famous novel "Frankenstein" by Mary Shelley.

Time ticked away, indulging into the intriguing content of the book until a ringing sound echoed through your living room, snapped you back into reality. Completely unaware of the colourless and odourless gas that has been spread as a result of a rigged ventilation system, you venture to the table.

"I wonder who it is? , Usually, nobody contact me at such an hour. Maybe a friend of mine", you shuddered all of sudden as if somebody has been watching you.

Ignoring your instinct as you pulled the telephone.

"Hello,(F/n) is that you?", you answered with every ounce of confidence you've left hoping it was prank from them.

"Tut,Tut,Tut. Guess again my little crow", Came an eerie voice that sends shivers down your spine, not the good one either.

"Sir, you must've gotten the wrong number", you answered with a stutter that unveils your queasiness as you balled your fists.

"Hmmm, No I don't I assure you that. But I have to say,Dear (Y/n), you have some refine tastes on horror. One thing that I admire about you", replied the cryptic man with a hollow voice.

Alarmed, you closed the telephone swiftly.

"....I need to take the offer of (f/n) to go with her/him. Maybe It was a deliberate prank from the neighbours, but it seems to real to be one.", you mused as your heart start to return to its normal pace.

🍁🎃🍁

The man, with burlap on his face and a noose tied around his neck, outside couldn't help but be aroused and overjoyed by the fear of soon-to-be his crow.

Oh the sound she produces was purely music to his ears.

The way she tried to repress her fears was adorable.

Her heart beats were orgasmic, so much as his hands drifted to his pants.

"No, not yet, Jonny. Patience. I want her as much as you do but we need to deal with that bothersome "friend" of hers, shall we give them a scare they won't wake up from", a deep rumble elicited from the scarecrow.

"Indeed we shall,she'll be ours by any means necessary", added Jonathan with a wry grin that could rival the Joker and prepared his infamous fear toxins.

🍁🎃🍁

You are walking alongside your friend to all hallow eve feast which is in Gotham University.

As your friend blabbered about different subjects, your mind is currently in processing what happened an hour ago, not every day were you this...terrified even in such incident.

Most of the time you were calm to the point of having a neutral expression stitched to your face or as your friend call it 'Resting bitch face'.

Either way, as you were pondering on what happened you didn't notice a small rock on your path which led you to stumble and fall on the hard concrete.

Your friend gives you a look of concern as they check on your knees to see a small bruise forming on your knees.

" Geez,(Y/n). You need to watch where you go or you'll hit your head on a wall or somethin'. Either way, it's not like you not to pay attention, so tell what happened?", as they cover your knee with a bandage and gave you a look of suspicion.

" I am fine, just a bit hazy that's all", you respond monotonously.

" Sure. Sure. I'll believe you not. But have you heard the news", exclaim your friend enthusiastically as they waved their hands in the air.

" Last week, One of the patients escaped Arkham...again.Bloody hell couldn't they maintain the place", your dear friend informed you.

Typical everyday news here at Gotham. Let's hope they don't ruin this particular night.

"You know,you're dissuading me from coming with you again", you playfully glared and punched them lightly on the shoulder.

"C' mon don't be like that plus we have already reached our final destination", as they grinned proudly at their so-amazing-pun. ( The movie)

" I hope you die from a scare tonight at least I won't be bothered with your predictable, yet frivolous jests for eternity".

You groaned rolling your eyes impishly at their ridiculousness, Heedless to your own words that will haunt you down later on.

🍁🎃🍁

Loud music and chatters blared around you dulling your scence of hearing.

'That's why I don't bother going out much,but hey let's get out of my comfort zone for a change'

You decided to split with your friend and head to the food stand and took some of the food with you.

Suddenly the music stopped playing which doesn't settle very well with you.

You need to look for (F/n) fast and get the hell out of here.

But today luck is clearly against you, as a green gas smothers everyone who is here inducing them to scratch and scream at others.

But what made the situation even worse is people start dropping dead like insects from the fright.

As tears start to prick your eyes and your breath hitched thank to whomever release the toxin, but surprisingly it didn't affect you at all unlike the others.

About time, you did find your friend only to see them laying lifeless on the ground.

Oh,god. What did you do to deserve this? Why would anyone do this?.

Tears rolled down your eyes as you remembered your last words to them.

Nonetheless,it didn't deter you from finding an exist to this hellish nightmare of a night; nearing one as you pushed through the gates of the collage. Abruptly, two tendrils encaged you into their cold tight embrace.

"it's time to take my naughty crow to her true home,hope you liked the surprise it's only for you,my little crow", the familiar man behind you whisper softly into the shell of your ear making you tingle from fear.

Slowly you faded into darkness.

Scarecrow lowered his head to take sniff out his beautiful ,fragile, and innocent crow.

" Now, you're finally ours we will never let you out of our sight again", meanwhile,Jonathan smiled victoriously and carried his asleep darling to their new cottage far from this damned city and its damned saviour.

🍁🎃🍁

Waking up to a throbbing head , groaning and mumbling profanities. You looked around you to find yourself chained to a bed post in a foreign place.

Trying to recollect your memory from the past events, but it was a blurr till a sharp hammering from the wooden door startled you from your stupor.

" It appears to be the effects of the drug is diminishing,now dear that you're awake tell me how are feeling? Do you need any assistence?",spoke the man gently as he start caressing your arm affectionately as if he was your lover.

You glared at him hate coursing through your eyes , pulled your arms back from his grip aggressively.

"........."

" Now don't be so abrasive,unless you wanted to treated as such. My name is Jonathan Crane or known as your saviour ,now (Y/n) let set basic ground rules that you mustn't break", The pale-ish,long dark haired, and lanky man introduced ardently as if he didn't murder a bunch of people to get to you.

" First, don't call me dear that's only reserved to my family and friends, and why haven't you offed me yet or are you waiting for the bat to come only to hold me as a leverage",you spat bitterly watching his pupils darkened at the aforementioned name.

" To answer your question, your way of dealing with fear is what attracted me at first sight; how you didn't repress it or let it control but took advantage of it to boost you fighting your trauma,especially after years of abuse at the hands of your "familiars". You can't hide that fact from me I know alot about you, I did my research on you, You lived your life in misery,suffering, and pain. For that I will keep you here to shield you from the malevolent nature of society and to give you what you lacked most of your life as that is love", jonathan replied gruffly as he encaged you tightly in his grip wiping your freshly tears as they processed to roll down after mentioning your past.

Suddenly, he pressed his lips toward your soft plumped one. Asking for permission to enter your mouth, but you refused ; frustrated he grappled your breasts harshly which elicited a gasp. As he slide his tounge to venture poking at every corner of the wet cave. Dipping your head to deepen the kiss you couldn't help but moan as he moaned and continued to ravage you like a dessert handed on a plate.

As it end leaving both of you and Jonathan out of breath; ashamed you decided to hide your face beneath the cover.

" Don't worry my dear, we will finish this as I come back , as I have to deal with a pesky bat", Jonathan gave one last smile and left you alone with your thoughts.

Exhausted from the horrors of today you decided to sleep with the hope of escaping that mad monster who clipped your wings.

A/N:My apologizes if I haven't update much, I was working with this one. Hope you enjoyed.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere dc #yandere scarecrow #yandere dc villains #yandere villains

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kali-tmblr · 5 years

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RWBY7: Yang's Upcoming Problems With PTSD

I'm sorry to have been away for so long lately. I promised you all a post on Yang's PTSD, and that proved to be difficult and painful to write. Nonetheless, here it is.

One of the things I like about RWBY is it's portrayals of various mental health issues, including Ozpin's carefully concealed depression, Blake's trust issues, the clinical apathy depicted at Brunswick Farms, and the accurate depictions of two different reactions to childhood abuse seen in Weiss and Adam. Right now, though, I want to talk about Yang's PTSD, why PTSD will eventually hit her harder than most people, and why the trip to Atlas in Volume 7 is the perfect time to address it.

PTSD is something I have had for over 50 years. I've studied it, and talked to experts and lots of other survivors. There are those who think Yang isn't showing enough symptoms of PTSD, or that her PTSD will go away now that Adam is dead. These ideas show common misunderstandings of PTSD. It's okay, popular media usually gets it wrong.

PTSD is a progressive disorder. Popular depictions usually show someone in the advanced stages, but those take time to develop. It's as unlikely that someone who just got the disorder would have them as it would be for someone who just got Alzheimer's to suddenly lose all memory, or for someone who just got multiple sclerosis to suddenly need a wheelchair.

What exactly is PTSD? Many people think it's nightmares and flashbacks, but these are less symptoms of PTSD and more side effects. The primary effect of PTSD is fear displacement.

Let's say you suddenly feel yourself in a life-threatening situation. What do you do? Some people never feel fear. Some are overwhelmed by fear, and faint or run away. Some, even while feeling fear, still manage to be brave (Elizabeth Sladen's performance as Sarah Jane Smith in Doctor Who was a masterful portrayal of a person who was both frightened and courageous at the same time.) And some of us get PTSD.

PTSD works like an overflow valve in the human brain. Overflow valves are devices found in hydraulic systems, like water heaters and car engines. They keep the fluid in the system from overflowing. When the fluid reaches a critical level, the overflow valve opens and shunts it safely to a reservoir. Then when the fluid level in the main tank falls back down to the safe zone, the excess fluid flows back into the main system. Crisis averted!

PTSD works just like that, only it's not a fluid level that's being monitored, it's your adrenaline level. And it's not liquid that gets shunted away, it's fear. In a situation where you feel threatened, when the adrenaline in your brain reaches a certain level, your brain automatically shunts your fear into your unconscious mind, leaving your conscious mind completely clear. You couldn't feel fear if you tried, and I've tried. Crisis averted!

Then when your adrenaline drops to a certain level, when you feel safe and peaceful, all those pent-up terrors come bubbling back to the surface and -- yeah. That's the sticky part.

Here's a small example from my own life. About 15 years ago my young children and I were involved in a minor car accident. Nobody was hurt, but it was still scary. The moment it happened my adrenaline level shot up, my PTSD kicked in, and I was super calm and totally in control. I dealt with the problem, got everyone home, fixed supper, got everyone to the table, sat down -- and burst into tears as my adrenaline level fell and my brain finally interpreted the situation as "safe". That's PTSD in a nutshell.

For war trauma and abuse cases, there's a lot more terror involved than is generated by a minor car accident. Let yourself get really relaxed and peaceful and your adrenaline level fall really low -- and suddenly all the terrors of the battlefield, or of your former abusers, spring to the surface. The least stressful time of my life was right after I got married. I was happier than I had ever been before -- so I had a solid year of nightmares, inexplicable mood swings, and bouts of sensory deprivation. That was one of the two worst breakdowns of my life. The other one began on a park bench in the Magic Kingdom, after a five-day vacation at Disney World, "The Happiest Place On Earth".

Vacations suck with PTSD.

But as you've probably figured out by now, you don't have to feel those terrors. You can game the system! All you have to do is keep your adrenaline level up, and those fears stay locked up in the overflow tank. Crisis averted!

Except -- what happens to a tank that stays too full for too long? It starts to leak. What happened when your fears stay repressed for too long? They start to leak. That's where the advanced stages of PTSD come from.

Let's bring this back to Yang. When Yang has nightmares and flashbacks at home when she's relaxed, that's normal for PTSD. When she doesn't have the same nightmares and flashbacks on the road while she's worried and her adrenaline is up, that's also normal for PTSD. And when in the heat of battle her hand stops shaking and she's suddenly cool, calculating, and able to lay a trap for Adam in the middle of fighting him, that's PTSD doing its job.

But she's going to have a real problem dealing with those repressed fears. It's hard even for an introvert like me to calm down, knowing that doing so means opening my personal doorway to Hell. But Yang admitted in Volume 2 that she's an adrenaline junkie. She already lacks a reason to calm down, and now she just got the Mother of All Extra Incentives not to. Consequently, over time her condition will get progressively worse, unless she learns how to deal with it.

Atlas is a military culture, and Ironwood has shown a concern for the welfare of soldiers in general and Yang in particular. If there's anywhere on Remnant where someone can explain this to her, it's probably there. And not just to her. PTSD is almost as much of a trial to one's partners, both professional and romantic. And it will be a special challenge for Blake, because being present for someone with PTSD is very important. I expect this scenario to form a part of Volume 7 or 8, with 8 being more likely.

There are those who hope Yang's PTSD will go away now that Adam is dead, but it doesn't work like that. However awful it is to the conscious mind, the subconscious mind has a different opinion. As far as the subconscious is concerned, PTSD is not a problem. It's the solution to the problem of dealing with life-threatening situations. Your hindbrain considers it better for you to be traumatized in the long term than dead in the short term, even if the trauma eventually leads to suicide. So once that switch is flipped, it stays flipped for life. (Crossposted to Amino.)

#rwby #rwby7 #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #ptsd

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radishface · 7 years

Text

Scientific Methods | Chapter 3: Hypothesis

You’re a showman, responding to every context, every input, sensitive to your surroundings beyond belief. But if you’re a hyperactive element that sets off at first contact, that must make Niel a noble gas. No wonder they call him King.

Read on AO3 ➡

________________________

It’s 2am. Early bedtime, all things considered. Some of the guys are still up in your room. You’re doodling away at your Mnet journal. With your right brain, you’re writing something sappy that they can use for broadcast later. Your left brain, in the meantime, is embarking on a voyage of discovery.

So, how would it happen?

Option one. After five minutes of excruciating silence at the podium, Boa reveals that “Never” Team wins (as it should), and that Ong Seongwoo has garnered the most votes and is now center of Wanna One forever.

So. “Never” Team has placed first. Cheers will erupt. Dongho will look alternatingly bitter and happy. Kenta’s face will be grey. And Daniel will turn around and be happy for you. He’ll be clapping and grinning and generally just so happy for you because let’s face it, you’re still good friends even through this competitive seduction playacting thing that’s suddenly hit your relationship like a strong gust of wind on the side of a sailboat.

You close your eyes, convulsed by a sudden realization: Niel doesn’t show any other expressions other than “sexy” and “outrageously happy.” That’s why he’s on top of this whole Produce 101 gambit. That’s it. Niel is a fucking adorable one-trick pony and the human equivalent of an endless supply of MDMA. Daniel is reliable and stable and happy and the nation loves him because he makes them sane.

There. You’ve said it. Bring on the hate mail.

Daniel must have grown up well. His mom must love him without being overly attached. His dad must be involved just enough. Nobody died in a strange or off-putting way during Niel’s formative childhood years. The most trauma he had was being bullied at school for looking like an awkward teenager, but who hasn’t experienced that? Niel grew up lower middle class, with low expectations of life. Like, if he dropped out of the rankings tomorrow he’d be bummed, but he’d get on with it.

Ugh. If you dropped out of the rankings tomorrow, you would be pretty devastated. You might not go full Daehwi-level suicidal princess of angst, but you’ll have a chip on your shoulder for a good while.

Dear God. You hope you can win a spot in the final 11 and keep your innocence intact. You need that for this whole thing to work. Or at least, at least hopefully you won’t suffer any major tragedies until you’re in your late twenties. Small tragedies are fine.

Niel is so different, not just from you, but from 90% of all the other queens of angst on this show. Niel is weirdly well-adjusted in a fucked up industry, and that’s probably why you’re so deeply drawn to one another. You’re a little bit wrong in the head. That’s why Niel, with his deeply boring inner life that’s 100% sunshine and ponies, likes you. Niel doesn’t understand it, but you’re the one who connects him to a greater intensity of life. He might be a one-trick pony right now, but he’s thirsty to learn a few more tricks. And boy howdy, you’ve seen the pony learn.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Niel, the nation’s gummy ball of sunshine, wants you to cut through it and expose his core. He’s trusting you with this. He invited you over for soju and tried to get you drunk. He wanted you to do something. He’s interested. Okay. So maybe that’s what your mission in life is. To teach a one-trick pony a few tricks. Show him what’s possible. Ideally, without causing yourself any major PTSD in the process.

And if you don’t seduce him properly, you’re the one who’s really fucked. Because here’s the thing for Niel, this might just be an Interesting Thing, but not the Real Thing. He’s probably just playing around. Ong Seongwoo is a great guy and a funny guy but Ong Seongwoo might also just be a curiosity. Ong Seongwoo might only be Kang Daniel’s best friend as long as he’s good for shits and giggles.

If you don’t completely get in Daniel’s head properly, you’re the one who’s going to be hurt. Because you’re the one who actually loves him.

Ah.

An exquisite pain blooms from your heart. It radiates out of your chest and fills your limbs with a sweet-and-sour ache.

Deep breath. It’s fine. Enjoy it. You can handle love. Close your eyes and let it run through you.

Deep breath. It would be nice if he were here. Ongi. You asleep yet?.

Deep breath. Ongi, you don’t have to be funny all the time.

Deep breath. Relax, Ongi. I like you because you’re you.

Before your heart explodes, you take another deep breath. Okay. Work through this slowly. You have a few thought experiments to complete and it pays to be methodical. This is what your therapist taught you when your dad threw the 18th century Louis XVIII ottoman at the window when he found out that your mom was having an affair and you thought that all of you were going to die that night.

In times of emotional extremity, just go slow and think it through. It’ll never be as bad—or as good—as you think it will go. Being rational has never made falling in love any easier, but it’s the least you can do for yourself.

So. Option one—

After winning with Never, you go out and celebrate with the team. You’ll all try to get Jonghyun and Minhyun drunk at the buldak joint around the corner but of course they’ll be far too responsible and Jaehwannie will take most of the soju instead. Flush with drunk feeling, he’ll start belting out songs or just straight up start screeching. Daehwi might even loosen up and join in on the noise, given they’ll finally be away from the cameras and Daehwi has been so fucking repressed lately it even makes Ong hurt.

Niel might want to meet up later, but likely he’ll be hanging out with the Open Up team.

And then—you’ll keep your promise and go on your way.

You’ve successfully eliminated your Feelings for people before, though they never got this far. And those feelings were never incubated in such intense environments. So you anticipate that eradicating your feelings for Daniel will be more difficult—but not impossible.

It’ll start with a regimen of Not Hanging Out with Daniel as much. You’ll have to find another buddy to occupy the time. Seonho might be interested in being your lackey, if you can tear him away from Minhyun. Seonho would also be a good fit 1) he’s in a good rank, so it won’t hurt your ratings, and 2) he’s the Kid.

You’ll have to start finding flaws in Daniel’s character. Scrutinizing everything about him. Becoming a little critical, a little dismissive. It’s going to harsh the mellow of your relationship, but some things have to be stressed in order to change. Only after this period of actively reframing can you get enough distance to look at the relationship in a different way, coming to rest as another travel-weary survivor in the bittersweet, heavy-hearted DMZ that is the Friend Zone.

Except.

Daniel might not get the hint. Peachly puppy that he is, he’ll probably come crawling back twice as hard when he catches a whiff of the boot he’s been given.

Wait. Realization: if you start ignoring Daniel, he’ll likely be more interested in you and whatever it was that you had to say.

Okay, let’s get the facts straight.

Fact: Daniel is remarkably persistent and optimistic.

Fact: You’ve intrigued him with your big potential reveal.

Fact: Daniel loves it when noonas play hard to get.

So basically, if Never team wins, it’ll force your haughty noona hand. That’ll drive Daniel insane.

One or two weeks of dramatic sexual tension later, Daniel will have broken your will to resist and there will be a confession of feelings accompanied by some heavy breathing. If Daniel’s breath doesn’t smell like fish, you might even kiss him.

Option two—

Open Up team wins. Celebrations are planned. The 1-2 Punch Donkey Kang combo and rest of the team go out for hotpot.

While they’re out, you’ll send for your dad’s entry-level Mercedes C300. You’ll make Uncle Butler vacate said car and walk back empty-handed to the Ong family estate. Sorry, Uncle Butler.

Around midnight, Open Up team will return to the dorms. You will send a text to Daniel instructing him to meet you at the parking lot behind Studio C.

Daniel will arrive at your dad’s Mercedes C300 under the cover of nightfall. You will hold the door open for him.

But the seats are so warm?! Daniel will splutter in delight.

Yes, Niel. I took the personal liberty of making things more comfortable for you before you arrived.

You’ll drive the both of you to one of those remote highway turnoffs that overlook Seoul. You’ll start off the playlist with some classic American rock. Then some EDM. Which eventually becomes The Weeknd. The mood will be dark, sexy, and pulsating. That kind of lonely, humid, heavy, 4am feeling. Except it’s not lonely, because you’re both there.

Nice.

Your one hand is on the wheel and the other’s on the stick. Nevermind that the C300 is an auto. It looks cooler this way, and if there’s anything that gets through Niel’s thick head, it’s the visual.

Ah, important: you will be navigating this route from memory like an old school, route-memorizing badass, because Google Maps Lady would totally ruin the mood.

You will arrive at said remote highway turnoff after an hour or two of driving and admire the skyline while leaning against the hood of the C300. The rising sun will bathe Seoul in a wash of hazy pink and lavender. Giddy with exhaustion and good vibes on your gay trainee version of the classic K-celeb car date, you will both look at each other. Your eyes will drift down to his lips and his eyes, to yours. And then—

You’ll be nervous. Even though you prepared everything, you’ll still be nervous. Your heart on a stick, you’ll say, Hey, Niel.

He’ll look at you. He might have a heavy-lidded gaze, expectant. Or maybe he’ll look scared, but hopeful.

I think it’s time for me to say that thing that I was supposed to say.

You will pause here for a really long time. To build suspense. To gather your courage.

But I’m not going to tell you.

Daniel might look surprised. The faintest edge of disappointment might creep into his face.

This is when you’ll move in closer to him and put your hand on his neck. He’ll be caught. His breath will hitch in his throat that way. You’ll run your thumb over his pulse and find it jumping. And you’ll finish what you were about to say.

I’m going to show you.

And then, if Daniel’s breath doesn’t smell like fish, you might kiss him.

You sigh in awe. Whoa. That’s good. That’s actually pretty good.

Okay. Option three—

“It’s late, Seongwoo.“ Jonghyun says sleepily from across the room. “Go to sleep.”

“Almost there,” you say, and take your pen to your trainee journal.

Dear our Lord up in Heaven, you write.

Hi it’s me, your humble servant. So, now You have heard my three proposals. Let Thy Will be done.

Thanks,

Ong Seongwoo (not Hong Seongwoo)

#ongniel #ong seongwoo #daniel kang #produce 101 #wanna one #fanfic #ongniel fanfic

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tracyinpolaroids · 7 years

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There comes a point where our words need to be more than just strings of letters we write or type up and throw at the universe (whether in the form of a blog post, a diary entry, or unsent letters meant to be burned) as a form of catharsis; where they need to be read and understood, but not necessitate a reply. That point for me is now, which is why I’m choosing to bring this into my least favorite platform (I’m looking at you, Facebook), in the hopes of sharing my words with real people.

Late last year, I decided I wanted to get away—from everything and everyone I knew, worked with, and cared for. I wanted to remove myself from these familiar landscapes and go somewhere I knew was unfamiliar yet would pull me in with warmth. I didn’t want to escape from the life I was suddenly dealt; I know in my heart that I’m not one to run away from anything (I get intimidated, or frightened, but I never run). I just wanted to have some time to myself where no one can just randomly pop into my personal space, virtual or otherwise. I’m trying my best to keep my attention on where I am and just taking everything in—the sights, the sounds, the smells, everything. (It takes a great deal to not plug in my earphones and listen to my carefully crafted Spotify playlist/s while I’m here.)

Some people might refer to this as “soul-searching”, but I’m not sure it’s the correct term for me. From its definition on my slowly failing Macbook, soul-searching is “deep and anxious consideration of one’s emotions and motives or the correctness of a course of action”. I have no emotions or motives to consider, nor correctness of anything I’ve done to mull over. All of these things are not uncertain to me, so what am I doing if not searching my soul? Perhaps I could be just searching. For something, someone. Or somewhere I can keep coming back to. Or nothing in particular, and I’m just on a well-deserved and carefully planned vacation as a birthday treat to myself. (That last one is highly likely to be exactly what this is.)

The heartbreak was one of the hardest things I’ve had to endure, watching my life crumble several times over when I thought things couldn’t get any worse. I think for a while, I just let the pieces sit there, my self-esteem a pathetic mess. I’m lucky to have had an overwhelming number of people try to actually gather up the pieces of my shattered self and Greco them back together—for every person that decided I was too much of a bother drowning in my silly emotions (or took it upon themselves to think that my feelings and the forms they took were a personal attack on them somehow), I had five who threw their arms into the water to try and pull me onto lifeboats as I struggled to tread water and just keep my head above it. And I wasn’t just hauled onto the boats, I had blankets thrown over me, bowls of hot soup shoved into my hands, fistfuls of chocolate with caramel forced into my pockets for later for doses of endorphins when I needed them. I wasn’t completely okay and sometimes I was tempted to let the boat sway and have myself thrown back into the current, but I dug my fingers into the planks of wood until my fingers bled just to stay on and stay warm. There were a fair few of you who knew my tendencies and made sure I stayed on the boat. Some of you even clung to the planks with me even though you didn’t have to. You knew I didn’t even need that many words—from anybody—to get through anything, and everything, and just let me go through the motions. You know who you are, and you have my eternal gratitude.

It took a few months for me to finally pick myself up again, reclaim who I was, and build from there. Old habits and beliefs have changed after some realizations and discoveries. New goals have been set, and old dreams have been reconsidered. Facets of myself that were repressed have been unleashed. New things were tried, old friendships were reestablished with a fresh layer of concrete, old feelings were revisited. Maturity and honesty were improved. A lot changed in the last year, but now it’s time for bigger strides.

I’ve never travelled alone. It’s something that I’ve always fantasized about but never got to doing. So here I am. I started to plan this out when I was alone on the roof of my hotel in Hong Kong as I turned 28 last year, and started to save up for this when 2017 rolled in. Kyoto was one of my favorite places when I came to Japan in 2015, and was actually part of our honeymoon itinerary. This time last year, I had decided to go anyway, and I would go by myself. Not to mope or cry over what I lost, but to own my newfound freedom and maybe even celebrate it. During the planning stage of this trip, I was met with several instances of being asked if I could take people with me, to which I answered with a hard “no” every single time. This trip was just for me.

I’ve embraced the idea of being on my own. So much so, that my next big plan (and I hope this doesn’t jinx it) is to actively look for my own place back home, if I don’t get to take up my masters just yet. Part of the experience I was looking forward to on this trip was having an AirBnB to myself. No hotel housekeeping to tidy up my room for me, or free breakfast in the morning. Granted, I’m here for just a week, but I think that’s all I need for now to get back on my feet and start running again. Who knows, I may end up running so far that I might realize that my place is somewhere else entirely. Not in my house, my city, or even my country.

It’s been one year, three weeks, and a day since I was thrown back into singledom. The pain of it is never really gone, but it’s been minimized from the excruciating feeling of slicing the skin over your shoulder blade open, to the dull pain of small letters being tattooed on your trapezius. It’s small, and annoying, but I’m okay. I sometimes still get stung when my brain decides to betray me by bringing up things I’d rather not think about, but I’m okay. Like any trauma, I feel that I’ve changed in many ways compared to how I was for the last 12 years. Perhaps I’m a little harder, a little sharper, a little less sunshiny than people are used to. But I’d like to think I’m a little less afraid, and more myself than I ever was.

And to those who commiserated (whether in person or over the internet), to those who took the time out of their busy lives to reach out and offer a few kind words, to those who flew home for their families and personal business but found some time to spend with me and catch up, to those who I just met but knew exactly what to say, to those who reconnected with me on varying levels despite our failure to keep in touch over the years, to those who let me be moody and weepy and angry without judgment, to those who were just there even in quiet company, to those who never let me sink—thank you.

The world has begun to open up again, wider, and it starts here in Japan.

#personal #blog #tracyrasshaimase

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