#moral of the story is we all got our impulse control from our dad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daesungfmd · 4 years

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𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒓.

solo 6 / wc: 1,921

moral of the story: hwang daesung is a menace. (tw: blood, needles mentioned in a brief anecdote in the context of piercings).

his intentions are cloudy, unreadable ―

he’s a boy who smiles so bright that it seems like he’s in a competition with the sun, talks circles around anyone who’ll listen, begging them to show some interest in the smaller parts of his life. but by the time he’s eight years old, teachers are already writing home about how disruptive he is in class, how he cuts them off mid-lesson to inquire about the color of their cheeks. (”he asked if my skin color is a result of high blood pressure,” one teacher writes, not quite angry, but far from amused. “he doesn’t seem to know how to keep his thoughts to himself”.)

it seems like he never learns, either.

his parents tell him not to answer the door if neither of them are home alone. it’s dangerous, they say, and he humors them by pretending to agree, though his personal belief is that the most dangerous thing in the apartment building is the landlord’s tendency to come looking for day-late rent first thing in the morning with un-brushed teeth. (”does our rent buy your toothpaste?” he asks one morning, in the middle of getting ready for school. the landlord doesn’t think it’s funny, and neither does daesung’s mom as she apologizes on his behalf, stalling while she comes up with some excuse as to why they can’t pay yet. but he sees the smile his dad’s trying to hide, and that makes the scolding that comes later feel worthwhile.)

he listens to the radio too loud while he does chores or pretends to do his homework, turns it up even louder when the lady from apartment 308 comes knocking at the door, undoubtedly to tell him to keep it down in there. there comes a day when he finally opens the door, ignoring every warning his parents had so persistently burned into his mind. before she can speak a single word, he takes the chance to say, “my dad told me you’re angry all the time ‘cause you’re going through a mid-life crisis. i thought you’d be older.”

he watches her mouth open, close, open, then close again ― evidently, she doesn’t know what to say. when she speaks, her tone reeks of momentary defeat. “your dad told me that you’re eleven, so i thought you’d have learned how to be respectful by now. i guess we were both wrong.”

“i guess so.” the door shuts, locks. he turns the radio back on, louder.

as emotional intelligence puts roots in his brain, acts of blatant disrespect become less frequent but he’s still difficult to predict, impossible to control. a diagnosis of adhd at age 13 turns out to be half the explanation for his fluctuating energy levels, lack of impulse control and forgetfulness, but the consequences of these symptoms are still attributed to having no manners, no home training. condescension from teachers leads to an inherent disdain for a school system that doesn’t serve him, and it turns into hatred the first time his 8th grade homeroom teacher calls him out for the eyeliner he’s wearing.

“the girls aren’t allowed to wear makeup to school, so what made you believe that it would be okay for you to do so?” he asks right after attendance, staring 14-year old daesung in the eyes. he’s lost somewhere between not caring at all and being on high-alert from the embarrassment of the whole class turning to look at him, at his eyes.

“i didn’t realize that the girls had anything to do with me,” he snaps, smart-ass tone contradicting the nervous cracking of his knuckles. “there’s nothing about makeup in the boys’ dress code. if it’s that big of a deal, maybe it should be updated. let me know when it is.”

it’s a terrible way to start off 8th grade year, results in a series of miniature battles between him and the teacher. back-talking that lands him in the hallway with a stack of textbooks held over his head, though they’re dropped on the ground as soon as he’s not being watched ― he takes time-outs as personal breaks, which is later called defiance though it seems like his teacher has no desire to take daesung’s behavioral issues to anyone higher in the chain. on the occasions that he has gate duty, he always calls daesung out, makes him wait ‘til the gates close, then marks him tardy and makes him run laps first thing in the morning.

fair enough.

daesung’s playing a slow game, though, and he eventually lets his teacher think that he’s won. he stops wearing the eyeliner until finals season comes, and then he packs it on heavy, aiming to be called out. the eyeliner isn’t the surprise, though ― it’s the needle and ring in his pocket, pulled out after he’s done scrubbing his makeup off in the sink.

it’s a move made in an act of immature rebellion, and he knows that the purchase hadn’t been the best use of his accumulated lunch money. even as he leans in closer to the mirror, gets the ring attached to the needle and takes aim, he thinks about how the how-to page he’d read had specifically said not to do this in a dingy bathroom, and here he is ―

what’s the worst that can happen?

one, two, oh, fuck. he’s not expecting the blood, and he’s certainly not expecting to have to push and prod the needle until it finally slips through, and he’s not prepared to have to tug at the ring to get it to come loose from the needle and sit presentably on his lip. by the time he’s done, his eyes are bloodshot from unshed tears. he spits one final time, splashes cold sink water against his teeth and against the piercing to wash away the remnants of red.

it doesn’t turn out to be the power-move he expects it to be, because the school year comes to a close two weeks later and all he’s got to show for it is an infuriated mother, a handful of kids who think he’s lost his mind and a near-infected lip.

it seems to be the last of his raging rebellion ― anger dispels, mischief takes its place. he ends up a trainee under one of the biggest idol companies in the country, and no one fully understands ― not even the other trainees, given the all work and no play expectations shaken by his all play and no work mentality. it feels like all the company employees have his picture and name on some secret list because every time something goes wrong, he’s the first to be questioned. not that he doesn’t deserve it, though; he’s the boy who convinces in-house chefs that yes, he’s supposed to be given bigger portions than everyone else, it’s a health condition. he’s the boy who disrupts practice hours by connecting his phone to blue-tooth speakers. he’s the boy who hides from his responsibilities in narrow, dim corners. he’s the boy everyone expects to drop out, or be kicked out ―

not to be selected for a competition show.

it clears his assumptions that the company has some kind of personal vendetta against him, but it doesn’t make him take the situation more seriously in any way. during his first personal interview, he’s asked, “what do you think you bring to the competition?” and instead of giving an immediate answer, he plays dumb. he doesn’t know why he does it. it’s an impulse, maybe meant to draw time out, make things a little more complicated than they have to be.

“this is a competition?” he questions, and after slowly nodding along to an explanation that he’d already heard an abundance of times, his answer is, “i’m bringing the spirit. i’ll make it fun.”

as the show progresses, the clueless act strengthens ― he’s always asking why, why, why, like a kid on a mission to irritate their parents. criticism sets in, both from instructors and at-home viewers. he hardly cares.

by the time that debut comes, everyone’s made their minds up about him already.

he’s shameless. he’s dense. he’s dumb.

he supposes that they’re not wrong, though; there’s certainly something shameless in the way he interrupts and talks over others, on a constant mission to steal the spotlight. it’s too much, he’s told. he’s too much. a reputation that follows him around for years to come, even once he picks some locks and sneaks his way right into the public’s hearts. he’s annoying in an endearing way, and after a bit of trial and error, he learns just the right ways to draw laughter from crowds ― decides that if he can just make people laugh, they’ll learn to love him. if he can bring a little bit of happiness, then the inconveniences that come with his presence will always be forgiven.

it’s this inherent trust in his ability to be forgiven that he continues to push his luck, break rules, let reminders go in one ear and out the other ―

he’s told that dating is discouraged, but dating fans is completely banned. naturally, his first girlfriend is someone he met at a signing. when he gets caught―not by a manager, but by a close friend―his excuse is that he didn’t know because she never explicitly stated that she knew anything about impulse. (a blatant lie, if her profile picture of their logo is anything to go by).

he sweet-talks his manager into letting him use his card for dinner, promises to return it soon ― then goes clubbing instead and buys rounds for the pretty girl who keeps one hand on his knee, then on his shoulder, then around his shoulders; getting closer and closer, then leaving as soon as he stops paying. (i was hungry, he lies, and i wanted something expensive).

he’s reminded well in advance to be prepared for one of impulse’s trips abroad, then waits until twenty minutes before boarding to reveal that he doesn’t know where his passport is. watches chaos unfold, and pulls his passport out of his pocket with five minutes to spare. “i guess i didn’t stick my hand deep enough in my pocket,” he shrugs, howling with laughter during a sprint across the building, convinced that his group and manager’s annoyance with him won’t last.

he’s called out for scratching his head too much, comes across a compilation while sneaking around on stan twitter. he can hear a manager’s voice in the back of his head, telling him he should never post anything that could cause a scandal or address any rumors without consulting the company first. naturally, he spends three hours perfecting an apology letter for having lice ― something that isn’t true, but causes a minor stir all the same.

before he knows it, he’s twenty-four and he’s still too much, always too much. it doesn’t matter how mellow he thinks he’s becoming, the reminders that he needs to grow up seem to be lurking around every corner. he nods along absently, but nothing seems to change, and he only reveals the mature side of him―the part that became an adult long before adulthood hit―in fleeting moments, or when he’s with his closest friends.

in any other situation, he remains hwang daesung, the jester. the menace. the prankster. the inconvenience. whatever nickname is bestowed upon him, he’ll accept; he has no interest in telling people what they should or shouldn’t think of him.

he never has.

#𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆. solo.#inspired by bad behavior by the maine #tbh daesung does shit just to see what happens #that's what life is about!

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chid-sen-gan-blog · 5 years

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My Reaction to GoT 8.03 (”The Long Night”)

Hello! I’m back for another recap/review!

I’m so sorry this took so long, but I was a bit… uninspired. But it’s here now, and I hope you enjoy!

Once again, featuring running commentary from my Dad and Brother because I love them and their witty remarks. (all thoughts and quotes are from our first time viewing it, per usual)

WARNING: Spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the episode yet, though this warning might be irrelevant at this point.

WARNING 2: My family and I (namely me) weren’t really fans of this episode, so things get… pretty snarky at some points. Also, there’s a lot of shade - no pun intended - thrown at the lighting throughout. A lot. All these are just the opinions of three people, however, and not meant to offend anyone. If you enjoyed the episode, then lucky you more power to you - you do you! :)

And last, but certainly not least, a huge thank you to everyone who supported the first two installments! Now, time for part three!

So… the new opening credits still haven’t grown on me. But the inclusion of the crypt for this episode is a nice touch

(I have a sinking feeling that taking refuge in the crypts is going to backfire for those hiding there and really hope I’m wrong)

Yay! Sam! Please don’t die on me. Please…

Pre-battle preparation montages always puts me on edge. Now is no exception

Another Alys Karstark shot and I’m still not sure why the crew keeps including them…

“So, the showrunners keep giving us glimpses of Alys Karstark, but do they actually plan on doing anything with her, or…?” - My Wonderful Brother; so I guess I’m not the only one curious

“With D&D at the reigns, she could be there for anything from the kidnap theory to a faceless man revival.” - My Wonderful Dad

“True. Let’s hope they get their story right right tonight, though.” - My Wonderful Brother

“I don’t see how they couldn’t. They already have all the pieces in place. All they need to do is not try anything random.” - My Wonderful Dad

Awwww. My children! D&D, don’t you dare kill off Jaime, Brienne, or Pod. I will find you if you do!!! And no CGI dragons will be able to save you!

(I’m super worried about Pod. He’s right up there at the top of my list with Theon and Grey Worm. And possibly Jorah, but I’m 50/50 with him)

(Maybe 60/40; if Dark!Dany’s a possibility, she needs to suffer a huge loss in this battle. And considering Jorah’s her morality pet/conscience, he would fit the bill)

(basically if Jorah dies this episode, then my confidence in the show going the Dark!Dany route rises)

Tormund! I’m guessing you’ll live. The writers need some fan favorite B characters to make it through the night…

Ooh, Beric. Yeah… you’re probably not one of them…

And the Hound will be needed for Cleganebowl, so he’s safe. No way they’re writing off the guy with all the hype surrounding him and his bro’s one-on-one

Actually, he’s one of the few people I’m absolutely sure will live past this episode

Gendry… 50/50 on you, too, sadly. I hope you make it, though

Darn it, knowing I’m never going to see some of these characters again is making me emotional. And it’s not even ten minutes into the episode!!!

Awwww. Poor Edd. You’re definitely a goner, since you essentially doomed yourself last week

Aaaaaaaand now I”m tearing up. Darn it!!! It’s too early to cry!

My new mantra: Please let Sam live

Wow, that shot is… dark. I wouldn’t have known those were horses if not for the whinnying

GHOST!!! Are we going to see him fight this episode? Because Im so here for it!

My wonderful Dad and Brother are just as pumped to see him as I am. Bless them

“But, seriously, why is Ghost with Jorah and the Dothraki and not with the Northerners in the crypts? Wouldn’t that be more practical” - My Wonderful Brother; taking time from his celebration to ask the tough questions

And here’s Dany to ruin my mood. Absolutely spectacular

“So, do you think she’ll abandon Jon and co during the battle?” - My Wonderful Dad

“Nope, she still wants the North to see her as their hero. It’s more likely she’ll rush in at some point and ruin the plan.” - My Wonderful Brother

Sansa!!! Arya!!!

Hey, remember when Dany stans said that Sansa’s S8 hairstyle was based on their kween’s? Good times, good times

Oooooh. A rider in the night? But who? The gang’s all here, except for Cersei and Euron

Is it Bronn? Kind of bad timing if it is…

No, wait, Carice von Houten was in the credits. It’s Melisandre, isn’t it?

They’re zooming in on Davos, it must be…

Yep.

“So, let’s none of us question why she’s here or how she got around the undead army marching on the North. Deal?” - My Wonderful Dad

“Deal.” - My Wonderful Brother and Less Wonderful I

And, once again, everything’s super dark, even for this show. Is it supposed to be intentional, or…?

I love how Jorah’s like: “I don’t know who the heck you are or what you want or why you’re here, but sure I’ll do what you ask, weird pretty red lady”

FINALLY!!! LIGHT!!! Thank you, Melisandre!

I’ll admit, that was a beautiful shot

I have a real affinity for how Liam Cunningham portrays an angry Davos. I’m not really sure why, but I do

Okay, so Melisandre’s going to die before the dawn. Why do I feel somewhat emotional about it?

(I’m still not over Shireen, so I really have no clue)

Ooooh, that look shared between Melisandre or Arya. Is Arya going to kill her? Maybe because of what happened to Gendry?

Ummmmmm…. Dothraki. What are you doing?

Seriously, what are you guys doing?

Don’t tell me these knuckleheads are actually charging at an enemy they can’t even see…

Oh, shoot. That’s exactly what they’re doing.

………… and now were’s firing the catapults. Umm, hello, don’t we kind of need our supplies for later?! What are you dimwits doing?!?!

No, really, this is idiotic. Why are they lighting things up and charging all gleefully like it’s a 4th of July cookout?!?!

“No, Ghost. Turn around. You’re too smart for this.” - My Wonderful Dad

Well lookie there. The Dothraki charged right into the army of the dead. Who could’ve possibly predicted that? *sarcasm, sarcasm*

“And just like that, the Night King’s added tens of thousands more soldiers to his army. Everyone say “thank you, Dany” for bringing your men who apparently have zero impulse control.” - My Wonderful Brother

“So this is why God didn’t give cavemen fire.” - My Wonderful Dad

You just know that Jaime’s watching this display thinking “why did my men have such a hard time fighting those guys again?”

Aaaaaand the screen’s nearly pitch black again. Dandy

Oh, look, slow-mo Jorah. At least I think it is. It’s kind of hard to tell��

Ugh. Dany. I’m not in the mood for you

Wow, astounding. She’s not going to stick to the plan. I’m sure this will work out just fine

“Told ya’.” - My Wonderful Brother

Nothing screams true love quite like yanking your arm out of your boyfriend’s grasp and snapping at him.

(Anyone else ever get CerseixJaime vibes from these two? And I’m not just talking about the incest…)

Grey Worm putting on his helmet is somehow one of the best parts in this episode so far. And I don’t think that’s a good thing

But still, it’s too early to judge, so I’ll shut up

Why hello, Army of the Dead. How was that 4th of July cookout the Dothraki ran into?

And now it’s time for my favorite game - count the fallen red shirts! Let’s see… 1, 2, oh, there’s a third…

And there’s one red shirt who just realized his name’s never been said on the show and booked. I respect his genre-savyness

Meanwhile, back with the important characters…

No!!! Brienne!!! No!!!

Jaime’s “wench sense” prevails again. That’s my boy

Dany’s “ruin-my-mood sense” is also as strong as ever, apparently

Well, at least the dragonfire shone some light on things

Sansa looking awed at Jon on a dragon is so far one of the best shots in the episode

I will forever hate Jonerys, but Ramin Djawadi always knocks it out of the park with his score - even with their theme.

I wonder if he’ll have anything new to present for this episode…

Jon’s gotten a lot better at riding Rhaegal. That could be very useful in upcoming conflicts… *grins wickedly*

Lovely, now Jon’s stuck in a snowstorm. *sighs* Really, I give him one compliment…

“I just hope that Dany remembers she has to light the trench and doesn’t follow him in.” - My Wonderful Dad

“You’re asking for way too much, Daddy.” - My Wonderful Brother

Aw, Sansa. I’m so proud of you. And this is why I love the Starks - no matter the dangers they face, they’re loyal to their people first and foremost

… Arya, no offense, but your sister’s not much of a fighter. Don’t you think you should give her more than just one tiny dragonglass blade?

Ah, callbacks. But, seriously, give Sansa another weapon

Seeing Jaime, Brienne, and Pod together in any capacity gives me all the feels. All of them. Even when they’re fighting literal zombies

And now Dany’s also lost in the snowstorm. Well, on the bright side, at least she didn’t fly directly into it

Theon!……… yeah, you’re a dead man. I’ll sincerely miss you

And we’re back to the battle. That was… interesting editing

16 red shirts… 17 red shirts… 18 red shirts…

So it’s twenty minutes in and no named characters have died yet. I’m surprised…

And there goes Edd. *cries* Why did I think I was safe?!?! Why?!?!?!?!?!

So that’s one death I guessed. I wonder who else…

Okay, is it even possible for Sophie Turner to look anything but beautiful? I mean, even with this episode’s lighting…

I forgot Tyrion was alive Oops

Still have a sinking suspicion the crypts are going to be overrun with wights…

I honestly admire how calm Tyrion is. If my brother was out fighting an army of undead popsicles, you could bet I would be anything but

Jon and Dany bumping into eachother on dragonback is really making me smile. Even though I know it wasn’t intentional this time

If Jorah doesn’t die, Lyanna Mormont will. I’m calling it now

Grey Worm is so far the MVP of this battle. Now I’m really worried about his survival odds…

Soooooooo… are the dragons just going to be lost in this snowstorm the entire episodes? I mean, they have to play a bigger part than that, right?

(if they don’t then Jon really went through some serious guff for nothing)

Jon calling Dany by her nickname again despite knowing she doesn’t like it gives me life. So what if I’m petty?

And back with Theon and Bran after… nothing really happened

“Is it just me, or does the editing this episode feel a little… off?” - My Wonderful Brother

“Not just you. It has been so far. Strange, considering that’s usually one of D&D’s strong points.” - My Wonderful Dad

Aaaaaaand back to the battle after nothing really happened

“….. really?” - My Wonderful Brother

Brienne checking on Pod is what I live for. Honestly, I’m so far more interested in my J-B-P Family Trio than the actual battle

(Though I don’t think I’m supposed to be)

And the lighting is pitch black again. Huzzah

Unsullied don’t feel fear, huh? Welp, Grey Worm’s quickly realizing that most Unsullied don’t usually fight dead men

Really, though, this scene is on-point. Kudos to everyone involved

And now Dany can’t see the signal to light the trench. Yippee…

“YOU HAD ONE JOB, DAENERYS!!! ONE!!!” - My Wonderful Dad

On another note, I think I finally figured out why Melisandre conveniently strolled back into the picture when she did

And there we go

You know, everything has played out so predictably thus far that I feel like D&D are going to pull a huge, random move at some point

One that likely won’t make any sense, knowing them

Oh, I hope that’s not the case

Alright, that shot when Melisandre finally light up the trench is beautiful. I must admit

…………………………………………………………………………. wait, so Jon was just chilling right next to the trench when he could’ve lit it up this whole time?!?!?!?!

Ugh. So far he’s been utterly useless this battle. I mean, I love the guy, but really?

Please tell me they’re just saving his potential for when he fights the Night King. Or, even better, fights him so Bran can take him down

(D&D wouldn’t honestly butcher my boy like this without a reason, right?)

Oh, great. I forgot the Hound has PTSD when it comes to fire. This should be interesting. With any luck, he’ll overcome his fear this episode

Back in the crypts which are still somehow safe

And it’s times like these, when Tyrion touts his own greatness, that I remember he’s much more like Tywin than I’d care to acknowledge

Yes, Tyrion. You would make all the difference out there in the battle. When not even your swordsman brother should, logically-speaking, be near it, given his one hand situation. But, sure. You keep on thinking that.

Sansa laying some truth down. I stan

I really do enjoy her and Tyrion’s chemistry. And it’s actually nice to take a bit of a break from the battle

Oh, look at that. Sansa and Dany aren’t besties after their talk last episode after all. Odd, I could’ve sworn some stans said they were

One of which was, apparently, Missandei

Gee, I love you, Missandei, but that comment was totally uncalled for. They weren’t even talking to you

“And maybe if it weren’t for the dragon queen, the wall would still be standing and the dead wouldn’t even be here.” - My Wonderful Brother

“The girl didn’t even light the trench. Which was, again, her one job!” - My Wonderful Dad

*sighs* I really hate brainwashed Missandei. But I’m sure Dany’s stans will find a woman of color being blindly devoted to a white woman totally empowering

(And, before anyone bashes me, I’m speaking as someone who’s got the blood of all walks of minorities in my veins)

Ad back to Theon and Bran. Are they actually going to do something this time?

Oh, they are!

So, Bran’s “home” quote was said to Theon. Odd, and here I thought he was supposed to have said it to Dany… oh, well

Ooooh, warging Bran. With any luck, he’ll warg into a dragon at some point in this episode

I don’t even care anymore, just let the poor guy be useful in this battle somehow

So… when the army of animated corpses have better battle plans than your armies, exactly how screwed are you?

Jorah ushering Sam to the walls is actually really heartwarming

As is surrogate dad Jaime checking on his adopted son Pod en route to their battle stations

…… Jon has been sitting on the walls of Winterfell for who knows how long doing absolutely zilch. Not burning wights, not guarding Bran, not even brooding. And I’m ticked about it

What the heck, D&D? I thought you loved CGI dragon stuff

Well, finally. Yes, go fight the head popsicle, even if you don’t kill him. Go, my boy, and redeem yourself

The J-B-P Family Trio dynamic is my favorite thing in this episode thus far. Fight me

And Sam and Jorah. I want a spin-off named “Mormont and Tarly” with these two just hanging out

So, it’s almost halfway through the episode and only Edd has died out of the named characters. I have a feeling things are about to get bloody

Well, there goes another red shirt. What was I up to? 42?

No no no no no no no no. Bad wights. Not Jaime. Get off my problematic child! Get off him, darn you!!!

Brienne has “Kingslayer sense” confirmed

Who needs plot armor when you have your totally platonic not girlfriend watching your back?

My children fighting together… *tears up* I’m so proud…

And who needs plot armor when you have your totally platonic not boyfriend watching your back?

Jorah saving Sam with Heartsbane is all kinds of right. That is all

And the Hound is not making any sort of progress with his PTSD. I’m rooting for you, Sandor

Aaaaaaaaaaand…. I’m really tired of ninja!Arya already. I’m sorry. Unpopular opinion, I know, but it seems like the show’s going out of their way waaaay too much recently to make her seem all BAMF. I don’t know, call it personal preference, but I like it when there’s some vulnerability to a fighter

And maybe that hit to the head will take her down a peg. Knowing D&D, though… not likely

Oh, boy. The Hound’s really got it bad. I feel for him….

The fact he cares so much about Arya takes me back to S4, and I couldn’t be happier about it. Ah, the great seasons…

My wonderful Dad and Brother have taken to trying to adjust the brightness on our tv…to limited success. And this isn’t even the darkest the episode’s been…

Okay, I got over Lyanna Mormont in S7, but I have to say, she got the coolest death ever in the show by far. And I’m glad

Also, another predicted death. Makes me wonder about Jorah’s fate now…

So… the dragons above the clouds is a pretty shot and all, but are Jon and Dany just playing hide&seek with the Night King at this point, or…?

Oh, there’s the head popsicle!

(oh, if only fire could burn the unburnt…)

(speaking of which, how does Wightserion manage to breathe fire if he’s a wight and fire kind of kills them all over again? I’ve been wondering…)

“And after less than a minute of the dragons looking like they’d actually do something, we’ve now transitioned in to a game of tag, you’re it.” - My Wonderful Brother, getting fully annoyed with this episode

“At this point you could put Little Sam out in the field and he’d do more than the dragons.” - My Wonderful Dad, getting fully annoyed with this episode

And now Arya’s playing hide&seek with the wights. What is this, buy none get three day?

So… this scene is going to contribute something other than more bad lighting, right? Please say it is…

And nothing’s really happening…

And nothing…

Nothing….

Okay, so I have a feeling this is supposed to come off as a horror movie kind of thing, but it reads more like Tom&Jerry, imo

Wights have better hearing than me. I’m a little jealous

*shudders* Alright, the way that wight re-died (coining that term as of now) when Arya stabbed it was really gross. I tip my hat to the special effects and make-up team

Arya’s running like mad. And I’m happy she seems human again

(On another note, all this focus on Arya is really making me wonder what D&D are planning on doing with her. I can guess it’s something important…)

Too dark to see too dark to see too dark to see too dark to see…

I’m still surprised the crypts are safe. Maybe I’m wrong and they won’t be taken over by the dead after all

“This episode needs more Sansa. I said what I said.” - My Wonderful Brother

The Hound and Beric’s buddy cop adventures continue

Sweet move, Beric. We should enter you in javelin-throwing

Arya fighting just fine with a head wound. Even though I’m pretty sure she must have a concussion. Oh, what the heck, it’s a fantasy show

Beric sacrificing himself for Arya and the Hound in an honestly brilliant scene… that I could hardly see… -_-*

Beric dying to protect them also means that I was probably right before when I said Arya’s going to play an important role in this fight. Or the Hound

But my money’s on Arya. They’ll want a girl power shield in case their plans fall through

Really, the lighting on this episode looks like the contrast effect I add to my Sony Vegas-made AMVs before filtering the colors

So… Melisandre’s alone in this room surrounded by a bunch of doubly dead wights. Did she kill them all herself? Did she flambe them? I would really like to know

And blue eyes. Wait… no.

“They’re going to have Arya kill the Night King. That’s their big twist” - My Wonderful Brother

“But that wouldn’t make any sense. I mean, what about Bran? Doesn’t his whole story revolve around taking down the Night King?Didn’t Uncle Benjen say in no uncertain terms that without Bran they lose everything?” - Me

“Yep. But it’s still going to be Arya.” - My Wonderful Brother

“But what about Jon?! Doesn’t 90% of his arc center around facing this guy, too?! What about their stare down in “Hardhome”?” - Me

“Maybe Jon gets a crack at him, but it’s going to be Arya who finishes him off.” - My Wonderful Brother

“They wouldn’t!” - Me

“Remember Joffrey’s funeral scene in “Breaker of Chains” and how they changed it?” - My Wonderful Dad

“……… oh, no. They would.” -Me

And now I’m worried

I mean, I love Arya, I really do. And I love girls being great. But something like that would just feel so… out-of-the-blue

Please don’t let that be the case

(But then again, my wonderful Brother’s always right)

Theon and the red shirts going to war and I can’t even try to appreciate it

Oh, well, I couldn’t see much of it anyway

And there goes Rhaegal and Wightserion fighting in the sky. And I can’t even see what’s happening. Wondrous

*squinting*

No! Not the cloak Sansa made for Jon! Bad dragon, bad!

*more squinting*

… did Drogon just bite Rhaegal? It looks like it. But I won’t jump to any conclusions just yet because I CAN’T FRICKING SEE!!!

Jon has to be hurt after that fall. There’s no way he only got a few scrapes

Then again, the damage to his body is probably far less than the damage my eyes have taken straining to see the screen

And back to the battle. Time to see if anyone I love is still alive…

*even more squinting*

Ya’ know what, I can’t tell

Oh, great. Dany and the Night King. Well, let’s see if she’s going to kill him and become the heiress of a million more prophecies

Bet you ten bucks she’s going to smile when she burns him

And knock knock I’m here to collect my money

Well, Jon’s staggering around like he’s hurt, at least. That’s good enough for me (at least someone seems to be affected by bodily wear-and-tear)

And the Night King’s not burnt. Oh, this is great!!!

AND THAT SMIRK!!! I CAN’T!!! *falls off chair laughing*

“Can we stan the Starks and the Night King at the same time? Is that even possible?” - My Wonderful Dad

“Well, Dany, your purpose here is done. Time to go back to Meereen.” - My Wonderful Brother

“Excuse me, but what did the people of Meereen ever do to you to have you wish such a thing on them?” - My Wonderful Dad

“Nothing. I just really want Demanding Tourist out of Westeros already.” - My Wonderful Brother

Yes, head popsicle. Get the dragon brat!!! Yeeeeeeeees!!!!!!

Aw, darn it. He missed

Oooh, Jon running at the Night King. Here we go! One-on-one!!!

Oh, shoot. He’s running towards him as the guy’s reanimating the corpses?! Is he really planning on sacrificing himself?!??!

(you know what, never mind. It’s Jon - we already know the answer is yes)

Okay, sweetie, all you need is a few good jabs and I’ll be happy. Just get a couple hits on this guy and I’ll be satisfied

Immediately has “Satisfied” from Hamilton play in my head and chooses to ignore it

Ummm… Jon. Why are you stopping? The path is still clear? Just run through!

Oh, shoot, everyone that was killed is coming back

Oh, hey, look, Jaime and Brienne are still alive… and they’re probably not going to be in two more minutes so I better enjoy it. Good thing I have both Wench and Kingslayer sense, or I might not have been able to tell it was them in the dark

Now where’s Pod? *activates Squire sense”*

And there’s the crypts not staying safe. I fricking called it and I wish I hadn’t

Don’t you dare touch Gilly or Little Sam or Sansa, wights!!!

On another note… how did the wights manage to punch through solid stone with their skeletal hands?

My boy Theon still stepping up. *sighs* I’m really going to miss him… and back from a quick cut, Jon squinting at that dragonfire is me right now, after nearly a whole hour of watching an almost fully-black screen

Giving credit where credit is due, Dany just saved my fav. Thanks for that, but don’t get used to it

Ooooooooh Dany stuck in the middle of nowhere without her dragons surrounded by wights… *pulls out White Walker paraphernalia and foam finger* Team Wights forever!

(What? I did say don’t get used to it)

No Jorah! Nooooooo! Why?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

“WE COULD’VE HAD IT ALLLL!!!!” - My Wonderful Brother

Also, kind of hate how the sword belonging to the family Dany burnt alive is now being used to defend her, but who cares what I think, right?

Jon running past Sam is so wrong on so many levels

On another, however, it shows that he prioritizes Bran - his family - above all else. So, maybe I’m giving D&D too much credit here, but if that’s what they were trying to convey, I can see where they’re coming from

This tunnel run is the most fighting Jon’s actually gotten to do in the episode thus far, which is actually pretty dissapointing

Y’know, considering he was all gung-ho about fighting the Army of the Dead and all

Theon , my boy, you make me proud

Also, what is Bran actually doing? Something important, I hope…

Wow. Dany can magically wield a sword. Where did this sudden skill come from, I wonder…

Are Sansa and Tyrion taking refuge behind Ned’s tomb? *heart breaks into a million pieces*

“YES! WE’RE FINALLY GOING TO SEE SANSA IN ACTION!!!” - My Wonderful Dad

*scene cuts away*

“Hey, I said in action, not inactive! I want to see my girl kill some wights!” - My Wonderful Dad

He’s been a full Sansa stan for only a week yet he gets how awesome she is. I’m so proud of him

Oh, great, Wightserion almost killing Jon

Oh, great, wights almost killing my J-B-P Family Trio

WHY DO PIANO SCORES NEVER MEAN ANYTHING GOOD IN THIS SHOW?!?!?!?!

Yet I’m already loving this score. Let’s see just how much of a next level Ramin Djawadi takes it to

No, bad wights! Don’t kill my children!

No! Don’t make Sam cry!

Noooooooooooo! Don’t say thank you, Bran! Now he’s really going to die!

NOOOOOOO! THEON!!!!!!! *cries hysterically*

Jon… just can’t catch an awesome break this episode, can he? Now he’s got to deal with the dragon he already faced again… *sighs*

And yep. Ramin Djawadi outdid himself with this score. And that’s the hill I die on

Jon, sweetie… why are you randomly screaming at a dragon? Did you hit your head when you fell off Rhaegal? Has the stress of obsessing over the undead finally caught up to you? Did Dany finally break you?

Okay, a white walker’s hair has suddenly turned into a Maybelline commercial

And it’s…

Arya. Oh, boy. Here we go…

Aaaaaaaaand… it’s over. Just. Like. That.

We never even got to know anything about him and that’s it

They Snoke’d him

And Bran was utterly useless, to boot

*left eyes strained from too much squinting twitches*

“They really did it…” - mMe

“Called it.” - My Wonderful Brother

“Well… I guess good for Arya. Right?” - My Wonderful Dad

“No. Not good. Not good. I’m glad she got a chance to shine and I don’t even care about her hitting the final blow. I don’t care who hi it, honestly!!! But Jon and Bran were both completely useless?! EVEN BRAN?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?! BRAN’S ENTIRE STORYLINE WAS THE NIGHT KING!!! NOW WHAT’S HE ANY GOOD FOR?! TELLING HIS FAMILY THAT JAIME PUSHED HIM OUT A WINDOW?!?! DON’T GIVE ME THAT! I DID NOT SIT THROUGH SEVEN ENTIRE SEASONS OF GAME OF THRONES AND PUT UP WITH SIX OF THEM WATCHING BRAN’S BORING-AS-ALL-HECK VISIONS JUST FOR HIM TO BE PLAYING WARG THE RAVENS THROUGHOUT THIS ENTIRE EPISODE AND HAVE NO SAY IN TAKING DOWN THE POPSICLE!!!” - Me, with an unpopular opinion that will get me in so much trouble later

“True. His lack of involvement was… dissapointing.” - My Wonderful Dad

“You know, there’s a way it all could’ve worked. All they had to do was have Bran warg into the Night King to try and keep him at bay to give Arya the chance to finish him off. Show a bit of struggle between all three of them and ultimately have Bran be the deciding factor. Maybe throw in a bit of flashbacks to the guy’s past, while they were at it” - My Wonderful Brother

“Yeah, but that would require making the guy look like a legitimate threat in terms of fighting.” - Me

“Oh, that’s an easy fix. They should’ve let Jon fight the Night King before and get royally owned. That would’ve established him.” - My Wonderful Brother

“Not only that, but it would also heighten the expectation that Jon would make a huge comeback, which would really throw the viewers for a loop when Arya comes to save Bran instead.” - My Wonderful Dad

My family, everyone. Also known as my bright spots in the abysmal world

To be fair, the one thing I like about this is that the knife originally intended to kill Bran eventually saved him. Bravo

Welp, there goes Jorah. My heart is already in pieces, so a few more breaks won’t do anything

*cries anyway*

Guess Dark!Dany is probably coming. At least I hope so. And then we’ll have Bronn fight her or some other nonsensical decision. Who cares anymore?

I can’t bring myself to feel a shred of pity for Dany or an ounce of compassion. Yet even I know Emilia Clarke’s acting in this scene is fantastic

And now at the end of the episode we finally have light. And my eyes actually are having a hard time adjusting to it

So long, Melisandre. I’m surprisingly emotional about this but maybe that’s just because I’m still crying from Jorah

That’s it? Huh. That’s it. Who lived? Who died? Don’t ask me.

I’m going to go work on my AU now. It may suck, but at least I put real effort into it. Maybe I’ll be a screenwriter. It seems to require very little

I’m bitter and ready to be unfollowed

Sorry

#gots8e3spoilers...#anti daenerys #anti jonerys #dark!dany #anti targ restoration #anti targaryen #anti d&d...#anti arya to a extent but not really #just in case i don't want to offend anyone #political!jon musings #unpopular opinions...#anti episode lighting #sorry about the potential typos and incoherencies #i was ticked really ticked #please don't @ me i don't want to start trouble #just getting this all off my chest

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keepyourpantsongohan · 5 years

Text

Ayesha Liveblogs Naruto Shippuden S20 (Pt. 4)

Hashirama’s “:O” face at everything is so endearing

Hagoromo is now really the time for a family story there are three children and a sad old man in need

“It was a few thousand years ago” Zetsu just said it was 1,000 years ago how bad are you guys at telling time

I wonder how Hashirama feels about Madara being his Soulmate™

“I want make sure [the Tailed Beasts] don’t fight amongst each other, and that people don’t use their powers for evil” better 2 have tried and failed I guess

“That’s because a toad’s dream is destiny” weird flex but ok

“So then, will everything I do now be meaningless?” “Don’t waste your time worrying” Ffgkjhfgkjh damn I didn’t ask for a lecture on fatalism in my Naruto liveblog

Lmao @ this dude revealing his thievery scheme after talking to Hagoromo for 0.5 seconds what makes him think everyone will be on board with it

“I only want you to go away as soon as possible” ah looks like Hagoromo made a friend lmao

“If we make it too sturdy, you’ll break your bones when you try to destroy it” they actually did a really good job of making Hagoromo charming like consider me charmed I wanna hear abt ur ninja way

Hahahah I admire Futami for not bringing up the horns for the entire length of time it took them to build the bridge

Futami: Hagoromo-sensei gave me a high-five one time and it touched my heart so I formed a cult around him

Wait if Hagoromo only gave 8 disciples chakra are the nine of them together responsible for fathering all the shinobi world what kind of Gengis Khan fuckery

Minus the Hyuga, who, for some reason are moon aliens, I guess

“Throughout this long history men appeared, one after another, with the desire to use the tailed beasts for their own evil purposes. And that turned the tailed beasts against mankind. Anyway, back to my story.” Hahahaha did Hagoromo just go “(A/N: Fuck Obito and Madara lol)”

Unbelievable you’re telling me there was someone who wanted to get with this old man with horns and three eyes who leads a cult and you won’t show me WHO where is the justice

OH HEY FUTAMI HELPING RAISE THE KIDS I GUESS? WILD

Mmmm I love Ashura already 1000/10 endearing impulsive baby

Some filler storyboard artist who I respect beyond reason: But what if... we added.... a dog

“It might even be bigger than yours” please don’t tell me they fished Zetsu out of the river

"I didn’t realize you thought so deeply about [chakra being used as a weapon]” “Yeah, well” “But then again, what will be, will be” what kind of parenting is this Hagoromo kjhgkjhgkjhg

Indra, 10 years old: I am concerned about the ethical impact of my innovation

Hagoromo: YOLO, son ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“I’ll be watching you” Is that the voice of......... Pubescent Zetsu

LMAO IT IS

These kids are really emotionally unprepared for the boar considering they were following boar tracks into the woods

ARE YOU SHITTING ME THEY EVEN USED THE SAME FILLER DOG NAME LMAO WHO IS WRITING THIS

I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY KILLED THE DOG I’M SO MAD

Wow @ them having Indra invent chidori instead hkjhgkhg poor Kakashi

Indra awoke his sharingan over losing his dog I cannot believe this how are dogs the central plot device of multiple arcs

“Whatever is in this village belongs to everyone - that’s the law” wow along with fatalism this arc is also teaching us about the practical failings of communism

“The law is still the law” where’s the post that says Sasuke is ethnically a cop. Because that’s this arc

Not 2 be that gal again but Indra’s voice is also nice on the ears he has inherited his grandmother’s kekkei genkai of having an attractive voice and a terrible moral compass

...............kekkei grandma

“Looking into his eyes reminds me of my mother’s eyes” I was kind of joking about the kekkei grandma thing but fair

“At that moment I felt that I understood for the first time why heaven had blessed me with two sons” have you ever considered your eldest son is mean in part because you make comments like this

“What will the two of you do when you are out in the world alone” wow Hagoromo is giving his kids some kind of High-Stakes Bell Test

Hahaha I like Taizo I hope they don’t do anything to him but they probably will because he’s had so much screen time

HAHAHAHA I LOVE THIS SQUAD it’s the first ninja team and the boy is the healer!!!

Ashura: OH NO I’VE FORGOTTEN HOW TO GENJUTSU

Kanna and Taizo: WE GOT U BUDDY WE GOT BATS

I thought I was going bananas for a sec but the intro did change lol

Poor Tenzo I think he’s been officially discarded from OPs RIP

Side note: Having a Naruto blog has made me so wary of Kakashi and Sakura standing next to each other I don’t trust the ppl on this website to be normal for a second RIP x2

“They’ll suffer, sure, but everyone dies eventually” okay calm down Taizo

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s possible or not, because I’ve decided to do it” I admire Ashura’s blind optimism lmao

Not to poke too many holes but why would the water in the well not be affected by the Divine Tree

I take my comment about healing back ludicrously all the men get to display chakra natures and the women can only display glowing yin chakra hands booooo

Omg there is a Tenzo after all in an ED at least!! This is the first time I’ve seen all three members of the Naruto’s Dad Association in one place!!! Bless up

A shot of them standing all together!!!! My heart!!!!!!!!

SASUKE AND NARUTO’S GRINS AT EACH OTHER I WEEEP

[Hagoromo as Kakashi voice]: TEAMWORK!!

I was very much expecting Indra to go crazy and kill those two guys but wow that was a scene

“Enough to make you fall in love with him and follow him all the way here” At least Ashura gets like a real wife instead of Hagoromo’s ‘ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ she dead’

Hagoromo: Indra’s a dick because his eyes are red trust me it has nothing to do with my parenting I’m a chakra scientist

“Indra, just what is the meaning of this” it’s a temper tantrum lmao

Was it really necessary to kill both of those guys Indra one best friend death usually suffices for mangekyo my dude

Minato joining Kakashi in the club of Boyz Who Jutsu Was Plagiarized

Hagoromo really has absolutely zero hesitation to attack his son and you wonder why Indra has a complex

“THIS IS THE POWER OF OUR BOOOOOND” he said, as he punched his brother in the face with a thousand wooden hands (mood)

Indra’s Lightning Teleportation Jutsu is really doing The Most the Raikage is not nearly this dramatic about it

Can you... just.... declare that your soul will be reincarnated? Is that how that works?

Also. Who slept with Indra?! U made him out to be like. Very Not Okay. But he’s the forefather of the Uchiha?? WHERE ARE THESE CHILDREN COMING FROM TELL ME WHO IS BANGING THIS OUT OF CONTROL FAMILY

Hahahahaha I’M SO READY FOR THIS RIDICULOUS TEAM 7 TRYING TO UNMASK KAKASHI EPISODE BRING IT THE FUCK ON

I knew the Sukea voice would be different but omg I’m still thrown

“S-kay-a” is really not how I thought that would be pronounced wow

“If I’m able to capture this Kakashi guy without a mask on, it’ll be the biggest scoop since the Leaf was established” a little arrogant Kakashi but okay kjhgkjhgkjhgjhg

This is such an adorable and weird bonding exercise of Kakashi teaching his kids how to break into Konoha’s archives I’M WHEEZING

I would pay money to see Kakashi explain what he was doing to all those dudes in ANBU who probably thought he was intimidating as all fuck catching him a wig with three twelve-year-olds breaking into his own file

“Who cares what I look like anyway!” THIS IS SO DUMB I LOOOOVE IT

“I think that a woman might’ve drowned right over there on the river bank” HINATA!!!!! UR TOO NICE TO BE ENLISTED INTO THIS SCHEMING HAHAHA

Oh I remember seeing reference to this scene booooo do they really have to make it weird all the time

This concept is even MORE ridiculous in the show bc it expands beyond Team 7 to all the other Konoha rookies like Kakashi how much do u enjoy teasing the children that this is how you’re spending your day

HAHAHAH Kakashi is lucky that the person who knows him best has face blindness and can’t call him out for his schemes

Okay not to betray my own brand but ᵏᵏᵍᵃᶦ ᶜᵘᵗᵉ

They really designed a nicer apartment for Kakashi just so they could animate his silhouette in the shower STUDIO PIERROT PLEASE

Fhkjhkjfhkjhkf that last scene made me so uncomfortable I don’t really like seeing Kakashi’s mouth while he talks it’s weird

You know I spent a lot of this interlude chanting main arc main arc in my head but alas now that we have arrived I’ve remembered that the war arc climax is a mess

“If my chakra runs out, I’m done” seriously Obito.......... how are you here

Can you imagine if Naruto actually died.... what would that even mean for this series I can’t imagine

“I already marked this space, so I can hide out in my time-space” I want to know how Obito “marks a space” is it like a jutsu or does he just have to nod at it and go “my space now”

I would also pay money to see what Obito and Sakura talked about when they had to hang out in Kamui for a solid two minutes lmao

“So you’re friends with sensei huh?” “Yeah it’s complicated but I think we’re cool now” “Yeah, same with us and Sasuke” “Sorry about that” “I don’t forgive you but thanks”

“You alright?” define ‘alright’ but also Obito’s never been alright a day in his life, Sakura

Uh oh foreshadowing to the heavy gravity space where Obito d*es

Okay maybe this is the part of me that is still clings to their Part I friendship but Sasuke helping Sakura stand really brings out my inner soft bitch

“It would’ve been helpful if we could’ve received this advice a bit earlier” Tobirama’s bitter about sitting through five episodes of filler

Tobirama: Why haven’t u been helping this whole time

Hagoromo: It all comes down to Madara’s magic pelvis—

“This man lent me his power and that’s why we were able to get here” does Sakura not know Obito’s name either khgkjhgjkgh

How many times will we watch these same two flashbacks of Obito’s life

Looks like Kakashi brought a knife to a taijutsu fight LMAO

God Rin is such a good friend to Obito and he repays her by literally defacing her grave

“Am I powerless to do anything but sit here and watch” it’s not really your fault you can’t fly Kakashi tho u could try throwing some kunai or smth ur not a one sharingan pony

Ddkjhsdkjhd why does Obito get a line worrying about Naruto’s death but Kakashi doesn’t he’s spent the past two days trying to kill Naruto

I’m still emo abt Kakashi trying to die for Sasuke that’s his soooon

“Rin... this time, let’s spend some alone time together, just you and me” Why phrase it like that, Obito

"Why save someone useless like me” Kakashi get some therapy

“A fool full of only mistakes” it’s hard to disagree with Zetsu when they’re flashing back to every mistake Obito has ever made

Where’s the graphics set where Obito goes ‘admittedly I lost my cool here’ because that’s what that flashback was

Update: found it

“Don’t cry, Obito, you’ll just get laughed at” this fantasy is an indication that Obito has no real comprehension of how fucked up Kakashi was by Rin’s death

Can you believe that Rin still dies in Obito’s jonin AU like....what. It’s not even like “AU of what I want” it’s like “AU where I learn how to cope with trauma”

Also was this just an out for not designing an adult Rin bc he’s been thinking about Rin endlessly for like three episodes straight so..... what up with that

It’s still so fucking funny that Iruka’s in Obito’s jonin fantasy like when did they meet did he just absorb secondhand Iruka appreciation from Naruto

“But, if you screw up, I won’t hesitate to step up as a candidate for Hokage myself” yesssssssss let Kakashi be the playful menace he truly aspires to be

Gjghjkhgjhg Obito’s “euuuuuuuuehhhh” when the paperwork dropped was funny

Sasuke’s face when Sakura punched Naruto was also v funny

Honestly to be real for a second Obito imagining himself as buddies with Team 7 makes me mad u’ve done nothing but make these kids’ life TERRIBLE until today babysitting license REVOKED!!!!!!

Am I a hypocrite for enjoying AUs ft. Obito? Mayhaps!!!

“You told me that saving you was pretty much the same as saving the whole world, remember?” (Well.)

“I’d say, you did your best” You know that post that said it makes sense that Rin said this bc she’s a Scorpio. I’m still upset about it

You know... Naruto’s “the coolest guy” (“nothing but awesome”) comment about Obito is a direct parallel to “Bravest man I ever knew” in HP and that’s why, if I were to meet either adult man, I would dropkick both of them. In this essay I will—

“It’s kind of annoying seeing [Kakashi] all stiff and useless” u right Obito

Kishimoto pick up the phone I just want to talk about that rabbit bijuu design

“A Susano’o? But whose?” DAD’S HEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRE

Kakashi with Six Paths Power REALLY feeds into my theory that Kakashi is Hagoromo’s transmigrant

THAT’S MY TEAM READY TO SAVE THE WORLD TOGETHER!!!!!

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 KAKASHI GETS HER VULNERABLE AND THEN THE BOYS ATTACK WHILE KAKASHI GUARDS THEIR BACKS AND SAKURA FORCES HER INTO PLACE THIS IS WHOLEASS TEAMWORK

“I really love you guys” YEAH HE DOES 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Okay arc over haha right guys we’re good now RIGHT GUYS??

In part, Kakashi jumping around to save his students feels very much reminiscent of Part I’s “MY SENSEI SENSES ARE TINGLING” swoop and scoop that he and Gai loved to do

Lmao @ Kaguya spitting Madara out like he’s a bad-tasting vegetable

Coming up with an OP specifically for VOTE2 is so extra but I kind of love it the Diver parallels!!!!

Sasuke is SUCH a liar abt his attitude towards Team 7 - more specifically towards Sakura and Kakashi bc he has already granted that he cares for Naruto

Sasuke: Comrades? I don’t know her

Also Sasuke: Constantly urging Sakura and Kakashi to get to safety and actively intervening when they’re not

“Honestly at this point I don’t think anything could shock me anymore” Sakura really needs a hug and a nap

“I shall be sure to ask Obito tell me that tale in the afterworld” the real question is if Obito will still look 12 when he takes Hagoromo on the harrowing journey that is his life

Kakashi truly has endless love in his stupid ass heart Obito’s like, “Hmmm... whoops sorry 4 committing mass murder” and Kakashi’s like “Hehe, we all mess up sometimes :) See u in heaven”

Madara and Hashirama really did invent being in gay love huh

WOW I WAS NOT EXPECTING TO TEAR UP BUT KJHFKJHFKJH MY BABY BOY SAYING GOODBYE TO HIS DAD HE IS THE WORLD’S BIGGEST SWEETHEART

“You’ve now finally settled things with Madara” Tobirama has been waiting for like a hundred years for his brother to get over his ex

Hagoromo: Naruto’s your new conference room congrats kids

Mmmmm I don’t like aaaaannnnnny of this

“You’re suggesting that I enjoy a roooOoomance” why say it like that Sasuke

I genuinely think this is the maddest that Kakashi’s ever been at Sasuke that boy is very, very grounded

“I, too, had two children at one time” OMG KAKASHI OFFICIALLY DESIGNATED TEAM 7 DAD BY HAGOROMO (ur miscounting tho Kakashi actually has four (4) children)

“I think I shall let Naruto handle this” said Hagoromo, and everyone who encountered any problem in this series ever

I’m very distracted from Sasuke’s dictatorship speech by the fact he looks so much like an alien. What is UP with his eyes they never look like this???? Why are they so far apart and narrow and angled

“Your blood will be the last that I shed” what r u just gonna keep genjutsuing ppl Sasuke? Could just keep the Tsukuyomi on then, homie

It also plays into the Hagoromo and Kakashi are related (spiritually or literally) that Hagoromo is equally as useless with advice to him lmao

Kakashi: What should I be doing, sir?

Hagoromo: Sometimes I like to pray :)

Fjkkjgkjhgkjhk Sasuke claiming that Naruto is his only bond never ceases to amaze me like Sakura and Kakashi are RIGHT THERE ghkjhgkjhgkj u have been protecting them this whole time while they shout how much they care abt u. Just admit u have a crush on Naruto and go!!!

“I know your heart well by now. And you mine” Sasuke u unintentionally romantic dumbass

“Finally decided to kill me, huh,” said a thrilled Sasuke, taking a lesson from the Kakashi School of Very Much Needing Ninja Therapy

This entire fight is the Life or Death equivalent of this tweet:

Lmao one of these boys lost a tooth I want to know which of them has a dental implant

Omg............... Iruka what is going ON.... u are suddenly v pale and also I think ur VA might be different could they not get the same Iruka or has he just forgotten how Iruka sounds

It was real unclear until this fight that Sasuke had any of the same powers as Nagato

“Now I can finally be alone... farewell, my one and only... friend” again... Sasuke... u can be in love with Naruto and still have other friends!!!!!!! Ask Naruto he has tons of friends he’s not in love with*

*Disclaimer: they are all in love with him

The idea that everyone Naruto’s ever cared about is spiritually trying to help him kick Sasuke’s ass is p funny

“Sakura and Kakashi are still there, they’ll figure something out” cute that you have such an assload of faith in your loved ones in ur life-flashing-before-you moment Sasuke but with what jutsu lmao

“I began to see a shadow of my own family in Squad 7″ YEAH HE DID 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I still can’t believe that Kishimoto really wrote that all it took for Sasuke to return to Konoha was Naruto explaining to him how love and empathy work

Omg Sasuke laughing...... I missed your laugh you precious boy

“Release the infinite Tsukuyomi once I’m dead by transplanting my left eye into Kakashi or someone else” Fhjfhkfh it detracts a little from the significance of Sasuke offering his eye to Kakashi to add the “someone else” but I guess they gotta make the syllables match up

Why is every Uchiha’s long-term plan just to die before they have to deal with the consequences of their actions

“I’m sorry” “Sorry? For what” “For everything” “You got that right” Sasuke I think u need to treat all of ur teammates to ramen

“It’s finally back to the way it was” Kakashi loooves his baaabies

TENZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Omg they included Guren from the filler arc in this crowd hahahaha

Gaara and Naruto enveloped in that same beam of light like Kakashi and Tenzo in the Tsukuyomi kghjghkgh SP said gentle gay rights

“I’m forbidden to talk about it” Team 7 would RIOT if Sasuke was locked up in a cell like that fuck you

Hahahaha I wish I could see the scene where Kakashi and Iruka decided to ambush Naruto with study materials

Okay this is definitely a different Iruka ahhhhh weird I don’t like it

Iruka bursting into tears whenever Naruto talks about his progress.... same

I 100% believe that the vast majority of the reason Kakashi became Hokage was to pardon Sasuke but also that prison scene still seems appalling to me STOP MAKING THINGS WORSE THAN THEY WERE SHOWN TO BE

"Maybe next time” is super funny in the context that he does take her on his next mission outside the village and comes back with one (1) whole baby

Sasuke’s introspection usually seems to amount to “Birth is a curse and existence is a prison... oh hey Naruto <3″

The moral of the story seems to be that the best way to show someone you love them in ninja language is by telling them you want to keep punching them for the rest of your life

#i have caught up to the 699 adaption i am freeee #liveblogging #long post #ayesha liveblogs nahruto shipduden #ayesha talks anime #naruto series

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chasholidays · 7 years

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'All the stories you read as kids are true' Bellarke once upon a time.

The problem is this: Bellamy Blake does not belong in this story.

Of course, he must belong in some story. There is no being which does not have a story. But he does not belong in Alie’s story, and he’s going to make everything complicated. She had such a neat narrative, every story ending in a tidy bow, every major character accounted for. It was perfect.

And now, it’s going to be difficult.

She started as so many storytellers do, the first time she tried it: once upon a time, there was a peaceful kingdom, ruled by a just king and a beautiful queen.

These days, of course, the narratives are more complicated. The simple stories aren’t as popular anymore. The queen can’t be notable primarily for her beauty, and the king needs ambiguity, moral complexity. Diversity is important. The story can start off slow, but there must be twists and turns. There must be suffering. Happy endings are to be earned, not given by virtue of birth and status.

Good writers evolve.

So the queen dies, and the king is plunged into grief, and when his son dies, the line of succession is broken, and one of his advisers steps up to take his place. She spars with another adviser until the arguments become too heated and disagreement turns to passion, as sometimes happens. Love blooms where things were once barren, happiness grows out of sadness.

This is not, of course, exactly how it goes every time. But the broad strokes remain the same, no matter where the characters are, whether the princess is locked in a tower of stone or grief. The story should still work.

The story is going to work.

Bellamy Blake is an unfortunate side effect of an impulsive experiment.

The experiment was with the woodcutter, whose narrative value has decreased as technology progresses. It’s not a career anymore, woodcutting, and Alie has had to struggle to make him fit in. He works as an artisan now, a craftsman, and selling his creations online, he met Aurora Blake, a woman named after one of Alie’s first stories. That had pleased her, which was why she allowed it to happen at all. The woodcutter had no romantic entanglements, a quiet man who kept to himself, and a dalliance with the outside world seemed safe, for him. A good way to find out how expanding the parameters of the story might affect it.

She didn’t know about Aurora Blake’s son, and she didn’t know that the single night would result in a second child, a daughter. When the woodcutter found out, he did all the proper things, offering to marry Aurora and paying child support when she declined his suit. Alie was aware of Octavia Blake as someone of the story and not, a strange, dangling thread.

If all Bellamy Blake did was bring his sister back to her, Alie wouldn’t mind him. That’s a public service. But he stays, and that’s a problem. He’s not supposed to live here.

He’s not supposed to get involved.

She’s there, the first time Bellamy Blake meets Clarke Griffin. She doesn’t always witness things; sometimes, she has to read them in the book later, but it’s the weekly farmer’s market, and everyone in town comes to those. She wouldn’t miss it for the world.

In her previous stories, she’d put the princess with the prince, the natural pairing, and it had been fine, but lacked some punch, so she’s trying something new. Next time, she thinks she’d like to not kill the prince–it was a little too much death, this time around–but she doesn’t think they’ll be together again. The prince and the princess is just such a cliche.

So is killing off a character of color, come to that. She’ll do better by Wells next time.

But Clarke’s storyline has been going well. She’s been exploring her sexuality, finding her preference is for women and not men, and it’s progressing exactly as planned. She’s completed her relationship with Niylah and is well on her way to updating her label to lesbian. This market is supposed to be the next step, the beginning of her happily ever after. She and Lexa will meet and commence a long, complicated flirtation,ending with love. It’s going to be good.

Instead, Clarke bumps into Bellamy Blake.

Alie saw Bellamy come in with his sister and didn’t think anything of it. But Octavia went off with some of the other teenagers, and Bellamy was left to his own devices, wandering without much focus,

Until he bumps into Clarke.

It shouldn’t be anything. It should be a minor hiccup, but Bellamy catches her arm and Clarke looks up to see him, and Alie feels the shudder as the story begins to rewrite itself.

“Sorry,” says Bellamy. “I’m kind of lost.”

Clarke’s mouth twitches. “Lost?”

“Maybe not lost, just overwhelmed. The town’s so small, I thought the farmer’s market was going to be a block or two at most, probably just a parking lot. But this is–wow.”

“Good wow?”

“I’m impressed, yeah. You’ve got some amazing stuff here. I knew O’s dad was a craftsman, but I didn’t know he came from a whole town of artists.”

“I guess it’s one of those things, yeah,” says Clarke. “We’ve always been a kind of traditional place.”

“I noticed. It was like walking back in time. I wasn’t even sure you guys would have wifi.”

“We’re old-fashioned, not stupid.” She offers her hand. “I’m Clarke Griffin.”

He shakes. “Bellamy Blake.”

“Trust me, I know. We don’t get a lot of new blood around here.”

“Wow, that was a creepy way to say that. Definitely not worrying you guys are a weird cult who want my organs now.”

“Like you weren’t already worried about that.”

“Not that specifically. I was still coming up with possibilities. You have to admit the place is creepy,” he says, giving her a look. “Just a little.”

“Creepy? Seriously?”

“Nowhere is this nice and friendly. I walked into the diner and had a job by the end of my first day, and it’s actually enough to pay for me and O’s place.”

“O is your sister? Mr. Harris’s daughter? She’s staying with you.”

“Yeah. Our mom died a few months ago and she’s not eighteen yet, so–” He shrugs one shoulder. “I couldn’t get custody without her dad’s approval and I couldn’t afford our place in the city, so I figured–fresh start, right?”

“And now it’s going too well and you’re suspicious.”

“Trust no one.”

They’ve walked past Lexa’s booth by now, and she’s engrossed in a conversation with Gaia. She and Clarke didn’t even look at each other, which is not how the story is supposed to go.

Clarke laughs, and Bellamy smiles at her, and Alie narrows her eyes, jaw tightening.

She hasn’t had a challenge in a while. Maybe it will be novel.

The best stories tell themselves. The author creates situations, but she allows her characters to react on their own as much as they can. Alie has her setting, Lucis, and her cast of archetypal characters, and her magic, but every story she tells is different. Every story is shaped by the individual characters, by their choices and interests, and every author, Alie is sure, has experienced the frustration of a character not reacting how they were supposed to, how they were expected to.

This is on a level she’s never experienced, though.

She knows things about Bellamy. He’s twenty-five, eight years older than his sister, and he’s felt as if it was his responsibility to care for her almost since she was born. There’s nothing wrong with him, exactly, but he is not hers, she does not control him, he does not belong in her story. He’s not the one the princess is supposed to want to be with.

But she does. Every time Alie turns her attention away from Clarke’s story, checking on the romance between Nathan, the miller-turned-programmer, and Monty, one of the farmers, or the progression of the political and personal conflicts between Clarke’s mother and her new husband, Clarke will have gone into the diner to flirt with Bellamy.

And Bellamy, outside of her control, keeps barging in on scenes that Alie never even thought he’d be in, and as soon as he’s there, he takes all of Clarke’s attention.

And despite her best efforts, she can’t get rid of him. Charles Pike won’t fire him, because he’s a good worker. Indra Birch won’t evict him, because he’s a good tenant. Calvin Harris likes having him and his sister around. Everyone seems to think he’s a good addition to the community, to the story, and that means Alie’s hands are tied.

She does what she can, of course. Gina Martin is a nice girl, unattached, slated for a tragic premature death. Alie gives her reasons to cross Bellamy’s path, trying to distract him. After all, just because Clarke is interested in him doesn’t mean he’s interested in Clarke, and Alie isn’t privy to his thoughts.

In the end, all she accomplishes is getting Gina and Raven Reyes in the same place, and instead of Raven falling for Kyle Wick, as she was meant to, she and Gina begin a courtship.

Things are unraveling at a truly unprecedented rate. One foreign element and suddenly nothing is going according to plan.

“I didn’t think Raven and Gina liked women,” Clarke tells Bellamy, after the two of them discover Raven and Gina on a date. “I thought I did,” she adds, under her breath.

“Who says you don’t?” Bellamy asks.

Clarke bites her lip. Alie’s been watching her more and more, being where she’ll be more than usual, and it’s been odd, witnessing her changing. None of her creations have ever evolved so independently of her. Not really.

“I thought I did, but–I like men too.”

“Me too,” says Bellamy, with a shrug. “I like men and women. Plenty of people do.”

“They do?” Clarke asks, and Alie mouths the words along with her. That’s something to think about; it hadn’t occurred to her. She’d thought everyone was just one way or the other. Binaries tend to appeal to her.

But the narrative would be better served by more choices.

“Jesus, I know bi-erasure is bad, but I can’t believe you guys didn’t even know it was a thing.” He nudges his shoulder against hers, doesn’t move away after. “Get your phone out, google bisexuality.”

They lean over Clarke’s phone together, heads bent close, and Alie finishes her drink.

At least she learned something.

She thinks about killing him, of course. It would be easiest. Another tragedy for Clarke to face and overcome, and it would sever Octavia’s ties to the outside world, letting her integrate fully into the narrative. It would be so much easier, and it would get the story back on track. An elegant solution.

Her mind is most of the way made up when she’s reading the book one night and finds that Clarke confessed to Raven–I think I’m in love with him–and the words are there, in black and white, somehow unexpected, in spite of everything.

Love. Clarke thinks she loves him.

It is possible to recover from a lost love. Alie has seen it; second chances can be a beautiful thing. But Clarke’s already lost plenty of people in her life, her father and her closest friend, and she’s overcome it. She’s bright and thriving and happy, and she’s in love with a boy who–

Well, that’s the other thing. Alie doesn’t know. For the first time, she can’t be sure how this story will go. She thinks Bellamy loves Clarke too, that they’ll be together, but she doesn’t know.

How wonderful, to not know what’s going to happen.

She can’t wait to find out.

#la-la-lara

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youholditalltogether · 4 years

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On attachment

Excerpt from Chapter 18 - The Girl Behind The Door by John Brooks

Several of Casey’s friends had formed a bluegrass band called the Itchy Mountain Men. They developed quite a following, landing gigs, performing on the radio, and even cutting a CD. Casey considered herself a groupie.

They had a gig at Old St. Hilary’s Church in Tiburon. Built in 1888, a good century before that finger of land became populated with multimillion-dollar homes, it was a simple Carpenter Gothic-style chapel that seated about a hundred people.

They were to play on Saturday, and Casey spent most of the afternoon obsessing over how best to doll herself up for a special night out. Her floor was littered with outfits. She summoned Erika - who was suffering from a virus - for help, only to banish her moments later when she couldn’t magically make Casey look “gorgeous enough.” Casey called off the entire evening, dissolving into tears in her room, and then pulled herself back together.

The show started at 9:00 and it was 8:15. She was supposed to be picked up by her girlfriends at 8:30. The last fifteen minutes were a frantic rush to finish up hair, makeup, and the third outfit, which was also the first outfit - the usual tomato-colored quilted hoodie, skinny jeans, suede boots, and a touch of Eau de Perfume.

At 8:25, Casey’s tears were gone, and she was happy, ready, and waiting by the front door for her ride. Then she blurted out, “You guys should come!”

We were taken aback. For so long Casey had fought to distance herself from us. Erika was too sick to leave the house. I was thrilled to be invited, but what was the protocol? Should I pretend not to know her?

“Dad, you’ll have to take a separate car.”

I was still happy to accept her invitation. “Of course, honey.”

Old St. Hilary’s was full to capacity by the time I arrived. Body heat generated more than sufficient warmth on that cold January night. The air in the chapel was thick and noisy with anticipation as I made my way from the front door to the end of the pews where I hoped to find a seat. I saw familiar faces in the crowd from church or school, all the way back to Casey’s kindergarten class.

I took a seat where I could see the stage and peer over the people in front of me to look for Casey. I caught her at the foot of the stage with her girlfriends, chatting contentedly, falling into them and laughing. It was heartening to see her so genuinely happy. But I was afraid she’d see me, so I ducked down. I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of her friends.

Hidden by the people in front of me, I watched as she broke off her conversation, turned around, and craned her neck in my direction. She spotted me in the crowd, lit up, and didn’t hide her face. Instead she waved excitedly in my direction.

I must have been starved for her affection like a lovesick boy, because all I could think about was that she’d acknowledged me. I contemplated for a moment the years of fighting, the ugliness, the crying, the worrying, and the hurtful words. But all she had to do was acknowledge my existence as her dad in a crowd and I’d forget everything.

She’d be fine.

I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

Chapter 19 - The Girl Behind The Door by John Brooks

In the days following the horrific morning in January 2009 - just weeks after the concert at Old St. Hilary’s - I’d become obsessed with a single question:

Why?

I drifted through each day and went to bed each night thinking about her, torturing myself with guilt, drowning in soul-crushing grief. Sometimes, as if a protective mechanism in my brain had kicked in, I imagined that this was all a dream. I’d wake up to find her asleep in her room. Then I’d suffer a jolt to the chest.

The Coast Guard called off the search for her body after just two days; something about the currents being too strong - the ocean would be Casey’s grave.

I felt a reflexive gag as I wrote her obituary.

I endlessly relived and dissected the events of the weekend before her death. Erika and I both had been fighting with Casey, starting with something seemingly trivial - a rude remark or refusal to clean up after herself; I hardly even remember. Things spun out of control. As tension mounted between us, Casey had spat out, “Asshole! Motherfucker!” She threatened to run away and live on the streets.

And my response? I got in her face and yelled at her like a drill sergeant, “Good! Go ahead!” I slammed her door, leaving her alone in her room, sobbing convulsively.

Later that night, I passed through the living room on my way to bed. She sat curled up on the sofa, staring hard at the TV, her eyes red and swollen from crying. We exchanged frosty glances.

And that was the last time I saw her.

That last ugly exchange screamed through my head. If I hadn’t yelled at her, she might not have been so upset. If I hadn’t ignored her on my way to bed, I might have thought twice, taken back my harsh words, and told her I didn’t mean those nasty things. If I hadn’t slept that extra half hour the next morning, I might have gotten to her room sooner, seen the note, and alerted the police in time.

But I did none of those things.

We’d had knock-down, drag-out fights since Casey was in grade school and they never ended in a catastrophe like this. She’d usually stomp off to her room. There were no clues that weekend that could have shed light on how she’d shifted so suddenly from “infuriated at Dad” to suicidal.

Some people suspected that drugs had played a role in Casey’s suicide, but Erika and I had our doubts. Despite our numerous busts, we’d never seen her out-of-control stoned or drunk, and she’d never been to rehab. She wasn’t on any prescription medication at the time and wasn’t out partying Monday night. Early Tuesday morning, she managed to drive the Saab to the bridge. The last video images captured her smoking a cigarette and jogging out onto the pedestrian walkway - not exactly the kind of behavior I’d associate with someone high on drugs. She easily climbed over that four-foot railing and, according to the police report, stood for ten to fifteen seconds before stepping off to her death. What could have gone through her mind in those crucial seconds before she made that fatal choice?

Casey’s friends were as shell-shocked as we were. After her memorial service at St. Stephen’s Church in Belvedere, an event that drew an overflow crowd, there was a reception in the parish hall. It was an awkward affair, with other parents struggling for words. It seemed we’d become separated by a glass wall. Was it pity, empathy, judgment, or terror that was in their faces? We couldn't tell. Perhaps the suicide of a child was just too toxic for people to handle. It raised the horrifying specter of contagion.

As the adults drifted away, Casey’s friends circled around us. The collateral damage from her death was etched into their faces. They seemed to be looking for something from us. Perhaps they wanted to talk.

“Do you guys know anything about why she did it?” I asked.

They shook their heads and mumbled a collective “No.”

Why would she have kept her close friends in the dark? “I don’t get it. She was so close to freedom. I thought that’s what she wanted.”

Everyone stared at the floor until her friend Julian spoke. “I don't think that Casey had any intention of going to Bennington.”

Erika and I exchanged startled glances. “What makes you say that” I asked.

“It’s hard to explain,” he said. “I think she just wanted to prove to herself and everyone else that she could get in.”

Julian made an interesting point. But why would someone get what they wanted and then throw it all away?

...

I’d always thought that if someone was bent on taking his or her life, nothing would stop them. But I’ve since learned that suicide is often impulsive - a transient urge. Once the impulse passed and the victim had an opportunity to reconsider, the chances were good that he or she wouldn’t try again.

But Casey did try again. Less than thirty-six hours after she’d sent that text she went back. Her jump - her despair - had not been impulsive. There was something deeper.

...

Chapter 21 - The Girl Behind The Door by John Brooks

A man receives only what he is ready to receive, whether physically or intellectually or morally, as animals conceive at certain seasons their kind only. We hear and apprehend only what we already half know . . . Every man thus tracks himself through life, in all his hearing and reading and observation and travelling. His observations make a chain. The phenomenon or fact that cannot in any wise be linked with the rest of what he has observed, he does not observe. By and by we may be ready to receive what we cannot now.

- Henry David Thoreau

I had the first draft of Casey's story finished by the time I'd met with Dr. Palmer and Dianne. Other than recounting Erika's and my journey to Poland, there were only glancing references to and speculation about the effects on Casey's behavior of her abandonment and adoption. They were never pursued or treated seriously, even after Dianne had raised the issue in passing. It just seemed inconceivable to me that Casey's infancy had anything to do with her later life and death. After all, I reasoned that I had no memory of my own life before the age of seven other than from photographs and home movies. How could she?

...

It wasn't until our coach critiqued my draft that she found the story I had completely missed. It was that glancing reference Dianne made in our last meeting after Casey had quit therapy four years earlier, in the spring of 2007.

Attachment disorder.

...

I sat in my home office in front of my computer and Googled attachment disorder. The first hit brought me to Wikipedia:

Attachment disorder is a disorder of mood, behavior, and social relationships arising from a failure to form normal attachments to primary caregivers in early childhood. Such a failure would result from unusual early experiences of neglect, abuse, or abrupt separation from caregivers in the first three years of life.

Then I searched a related term, reactive attachment disorder, or RAD:

Children with RAD are presumed to have grossly disturbed internal working models of relationships, which may lead to interpersonal and behavioral difficulties in later life. There are few studies of long-term effects, but the opening of orphanages in Eastern Europe in the early 1990s provided opportunities for research on infants and toddlers brought up in very deprived conditions.

...

I searched and sifted through mounds of data and studies from sources ranging from attachment experts and clinicians to blog posts by adoptive parents. A behavioral profile of the adopted child began to emerge.

Emotional Regulation: Because of the absence of the modulating influence of a dedicated caregiver in infancy, the adopted child frequently has a low tolerance for frustration, ineffective coping skills and impulse control, and trouble self-soothing. She can be clingy, hyperreactive, quick to anger or bursting into tears over what others might consider insignificant or nonexistent slightls. It can be difficult to calm her with logic or discipline. She may have out-of-control, prolonged tantrums long past toddlerhood that are disproportionate to circumstances, giving the appearance of emotional immaturity.

Control: Abandoned in infancy, the adopted child has learned early not to trust. Controlling her environment and distancing others around her - especially caregivers - become paramount as a way to protect herself from further abandonment. This can affect her social realm, where she must navigate relationships and read social cues. She may feel threatened by others, have trouble tolerating relationships or participating in competitive games other than on her own terms. She can be a sore loser when things don't go her way. She may have trouble sharing toys, food, or friends, long past what is age-appropriate. She may lack cause-and-effect thinking and blame others for her mistakes. Convinced perhaps that caregivers are unavailable and untrustworthy, she might avoid asking for help. She might be seen as bossy, but not to everyone. She can be manipulative - extremely charming, in fact, even indiscriminately affectionate, toward strangers - but cool and remote at home.

Transitions: Because of her need for control, the adopted child can have difficulties with transitions, especially when they come unexpectedly. She can't easily "go with the flow." Rather, she does best in environments of structure, predictability, and regularity. Changes in routine - such as transitions from the school year to summer, vacations, and holidays - are times of great stress and acting out.

Discipline: Trust, control, and discipline go hand in hand for the adopted child. She may display a pattern of disobedient, defiant, and hostile behavior toward authority figures that goes beyond the norm, giving the appearance of being unduly stubborn and strong-willed. Epic battles can erupt over the most trivial things.

Self-Image: The adopted child whose needs are not met in infancy builds up a pessimistic and hopeless view of herself, her family, and society. She may be uncomfortable with physical closeness or intimacy. She can hear compliments from parents yet feel no association. She's not worthy of love or respect, and may have enclosed her heart in a vault and fought to deny access to anyone who truly loves her. "I love you" can strike terror in her heart. She can't feel love, believe that it hurts, and wants nothing of it. She may manifest destructive behaviors such as self-mutilation, eating disorders, and suicidal tendencies.

A simple Google search explained everything about casey. The uncontrollable tantrums and crying jags. Her lack of patience, whether waiting an extra minute in her high chair for some ice cream or, years later, learning to skate or snowboard. Her tendency to be thin-skinned at home with no tolerance for the most benign joke or jab aimed at her . And my reaction to this? Out of sheer frustration, I told her to stop crying and grow up, and act her age.

Great job, Dad.

She didn't handle threesomes well and would stomp home in tears from a friend's house feeling left out or slighted, losing it when something didn't go her way . . . Power struggles erupted over the most ridiculous things - Casey, please put your dirty dish in the sink; Casey, please don't leave your wet towel on the bathroom floor; Casey, please take Igor for a walk. We were stuck in a never-ending cycle of time-outs, withheld privileges, abandoned reward programs, groundings, and empty threats to spend her college fund on a year in purgatory. We resorted to spanking her, even threatening to hit her, violating every tenet of good parenting and giving her more reason to despise us.

And transitions? Maybe Bennington was the last straw. I thought about Julian's theory at the memorial that Casey had no intention of going; she just wanted to prove a point. For all her bluster about Bennington, I could see how she could have been terrified. She was a creature of habit, had never been away by herself (except for the Alaska trip), never shared a bedroom or bathroom. At home, she had some measure of safety and privacy where she could unleash her rages and tantrums without fear of repercussions. At school, there would be no place to hide and unload in private. She'd be vulnerable, exposed.

Her issues with self-image went far beyond teenage angst. She seemed to loathe herself. But in retrospect, it was almost impossible to distinguish among the typical insecurities of a teenager, attachment issues from infancy, and dangerous suicidal tendencies when the symptoms looked so much alike. It would be impossible to treat every single raging, sullen teen moping around the house as a potential suicide risk (indeed, but the risk is nonetheless present!).

I had stumbled upon something big almost by accident, something that had been staring us in the face for years, and everyone had been blind to it. Casey was alone, in pain and unable to trust, and we couldn't see it. In her fragile state, there wasn't enough to live for, not enough for her to stay in the game, to see through the rough patches. Her perception of the future was bleak, hopeless.

. . .

Chapter 22 - The Girl Behind The Door by John Brooks

I scoured Marin County and the Internet for every book and article I could find on attachment. I contacted experts on adoption and attachment issues. Several of them agreed to talk to me about the disorder and what was being done to help the children and their parents. Nearly all of the experts were either adoptive parents who struck out on their own as I did, or were adoptees trying to understand themselves.

I learned that attachment begins with the trusting bond formed between a child and mother or other primary caregiver during infancy. This bond becomes a blueprint for all future relationships. The British psychiatrist John Bowlby, widely considered to be the founding father of attachment theory, says that at birth a baby cannot automatically self-regulate. Her emotional state is as simple as stressed or not stressed. When she is stressed - from hunger, a wet diaper, insufficient sleep, or fear - she cries. She is brought back into balance when the caregiver responds with soothing sounds, gentle touch, and loving looks.

Nancy Newton Verrier, an adoption specialist in Lafayette, California, provided me with her own analogy of mother-child separation. "It's very unnatural to separate babies and mothers," she said. "You can't adopt a kitten or puppy for about either weeks, in order to give the babies time to wean off their mothers, but we give away human babies time to wean off their mothers, but we give away human babies to strangers as early as birth." I never thought of it that way, and yet it seemed so obvious. Why would we treat animals with more deference than humans?

An infant left alone, with no instinctive soothing mechanism, lives in a state of prolonged fear and hyperarousal. Unable to summon help or physically escape, the infant's only protection from this unendurable state is to emotionally withdraw.

Amy Klatzkin is a marriage and family therapist intern I met with at the Child Trauma Research Centre at UCSF/San Francisco General Hospital. She is also an adoptive mother.

"There's only one thing worse than an abusive relationship, even if it's harmful," she said. "And that's no relationship at all, just nothingness."

I saw Casey alone in her crib in the orphanage as Amy continued. "Casey was probably getting sustenance but no connection, not even a tiny attachment. People come and go, and you never know if they'll be back. They're all equally distant and interchangeable to her."

She went on to talk about another kind of separation - the moment the child left the orphanage system with her adoptive parents. There was an element of predictability left behind - familiar sensations, sounds, and smells - for something unknown with two complete strangers. To ease that separation, Ms. Klatzkin offered a good piece of advice: leave the child in her clothes from the orphanage, even if they're dirty or smelly. "Let them have some continuity," she said. "It's our instinct to cling."

In High Risk: Children Without a Conscience, the clinical psychologists Ken Majid and Carole McKelvey wrote: "If a child does not form a loving bond with the mother, she does not develop an attachment to the rest of mankind, and literally does not have a stake in humanity. Incomprehensible pain is forever locked in her soul because of the abandonment she suffered as an infant."

Incomprehensible pain. My daughter. The awful wailing behind her door.

So profound is the effect of institutionalization that Dr. Jerri Ann Jenista, pediatrician and writer in the field of adoption medical health, suggests that all institutionalized orphans be considered at risk for attachment issues.

The longer they stay in the institution, the greater the damage. "We now know that if the child is adopted within the first year, the adverse effects of institutionalization are not too difficult to treat," explained Dr. Robert Marvin, the director of the Mary D. Ainsworth Child-Parent Attachment Clinic at the University of Virginia Medical Center. "But for a child like Casey, adopted at fourteen months, there's already been a fair amount of psychological and brain developmental damage that leads to very unusual behavior." In fact, studies have shown that institutionalized children have measurably different brain structures from those raised in a family. Researchers have found striking abnormalities in tissues that transmit electrical messages across the brain, perhaps explaining some of the dysfunctions seen in neglected and orphaned children.

The effects of institutionalization rarely go away. Parents of these kids find that depression, moodiness, self-mutilation, screaming fits, defiance, and academic struggles can be "normal" parts of life. Some children leave home and break contact with their adoptive families. Job instability, unplanned pregnancies, suicide attempts, and stints in disciplinary, rehab, and psychiatric programs are not uncommon.

Patricia, the adoptive mother of a boy from southern Poland, wrote to me that her son - then an eight-year-old - was at the emotional level of a fiver-year-old. Though he had recovered from early developmental delays, he was still prone to meltdowns, anxiety attacks, and struggles with self-esteem.

An adoptive mother of a girl from northwestern Russia wrote that her daughter was born to alcoholic parents and was unschooled and neglected until she was placed for adoption at age seven. Her adoptive mother received her at age eleven with a range of challenges, from growth deficiencies to language delays and learning disabilities. At the age of eighteen, she had the emotional maturity of a nine-year-old. The slightest provocation could send her into a rage or sobbing fits. Her parents feared that she couldn't be trusted on her own.

Of course, this is, for many parents, only part of the story. As one mother wrote about her troubled daughter from Russia, "She has brought more love into my life than I ever thought possible."

My reaction to these difficult stories was envy. Their children were still alive. My daughter was dead. I had failed in my first duty as a father, to keep her safe. The information I needed to keep her alive was out there, but it was just beyond my reach. It was in the library and on the Internet.

I had never thought to look.

Chapter 23 - The Girl Behind The Door by John Brooks

If we could turn back the clock, there is so much that we would have done differently. Casey's life didn't have to end so abruptly and tragically.

I now see a very different person on the other side of that battered bedroom door. Not an angry, misbehaving teenager bent on tormenting her parents, but a child suffering unfathomable pain for whom comfort was out of reach.

She tried to speak to us but couldn't get through. We couldn't hear her, couldn't understand her, or tuned her out as the decibels rose. Likewise, we tried to speak to her, but our words neve reached her. Erika and I were desperate to love her but she had trouble letting us in. We reacted to our communication void with frustration, shutting each other out. That was a fatal mistake whose consequences we couldn't possibly know. We had no idea how far out on a ledge Casey was.

On the surface, everything appeared normal; in fact, better than normal. She'd gotten into her dream school, yet that wasn't enough to dent the iceberg of agony that sat below the surface, that she kept hidden from everyone. Only occasionally did she give a hint of her true feelings. Her cries for help were too faint for people to hear, so she weighed the options - live in pain or choose death.

Erika and I were blind from the outset. I thought about the morning we picked Casey up from the orphanage. We were so intent on changing her into some nice, clean girlie clothes that it never dawned on us to ask if she had something she clutched in her crib - a pillow, a stuffed animal, a blanket? For all I know now, we'd left something behind that was indispensable to her, further compounding the distress. To ease the shock of this transition, we should have asked for an article of clothing, a plaything, something she might have snuggled with to keep her company and have something familiar to hold on to, but we didn't.

In their two books, Adopting the Hurt Child and Parenting the Hurt Child, Dr, Gregory Keck and Regina Kupecky note that adoptive parents want to believe that a sound attachment had formed with former caregivers, in a sort of turnkey process that was readily transferable to them. The adoption becomes a cure-all for the child's difficulties.

So it was for us, we thought. Overjoyed at her astonishing progress in our first few days together, camped out in a cramped hotel room in Warsaw, Erika and I became convinced that Casey wasn't a special needs child at all. She had just been understimulated in the orphanage; nothing that two loving parents couldn't fix. We were part of a fairy tale - two able-bodied Americans rescuing a Polish orphan from her caring but impoverished birth mother, who wanted a better life for her daughter.

We treated Casey as if she were our new pet. She was in good American hands. Just feed her, burp her, change her diaper, bounce her around, and park her in front of the TV when Mom and Dad need a rest. Then there were the outbursts.

I know now that adoptive parents who view their children's disruptive behavior as just normal growing pains are ignoring a time bomb. They need to distinguish between the physical and emotional age of their child and adapt their parenting expectations to the child's emotional age, that emotional immaturity I'd read about and, of course, had seen in Casey.

We should have had her assessed. Ray Kinney, a director and staff psychologist at Cornerstone Counseling Services in Wisconsin, spoke to me about the importance of assessment for children who have lived in orphanages. Having seen hundreds of deprived children over thirty-five years of clinical practice, he said that this was a crucial prerequisite to determining an appropriate intervention strategy.

That first night in the hotel room in Warsaw, when she was inconsolable, rocking herself to sleep, we just wanted her to quiet down so that we could get some rest. Instead of parking her in her stroller in front of a blaring TV - something she'd probably never seen before - we should have taken her into bed with us, held her and soothed her. If it were possible, we should have held her for our whole first month together without putting her down. Maybe we would have had a different result. What she needed then was lots of human touch.

From the moment we brought Casey into our home, it seemed as though we did everything wrong. We assumed that the past would fade into oblivion; nurture would prevail over nature. We took our parenting cues from the pop culture experts.

As a toddler, we tried to teach Casey manners, patience, and independence. When she acted out inappropriately and threw temper tantrums, we scolded and punished her. But we failed to see what was at the root of her outbursts, and our reactions only made matters worse. Rather than sending her off by herself, we should have stayed with her, helped her calm down and self-soothe. She needed to know that Mom and Dad would always be there for her unconditionally.

When Casey entered school, we were mystified by what appeared to be a split personality - a perfect angel at school and a defiant, immature brat at home. We consulted family, friends, teachers, and guidance counselors, and were told that Casey was strong-willed and a bit high-strung; she'd grow out of it.

Erika and I felt that we were the problem. We spoiled her. We were inconsistent. We needed to be tougher with her. So we read books such as Raising Your Spirited Child, tried reward systems and used TV, the computer, the playdaytes as leverage for good behavior. We blamed each other for our lousy parenting skills and our inability to get our daughter to mind her parents like everyone else's kids did. We didn't realize that the provocation and aggression we saw in her may have been caused by her anxiety about further rejection, something she may not have understood herself.

Nancy Verrier told me that the adopted child can push for rejection even though that's the opposite of what she wants. She constantly tests her parents to see if they'll reject her, just to get the inevitable over with. As she tests her parents' commitment, often playing into their own insecurities about being good enough, the parents become defensive and retaliatory instead of understanding and steadfast. Their reactions can provoke the very outcome she feared in the first place - being sent to a residential treatment center or boarding school, or being kicked out onto the street.

A 2008 white paper, "Therapeutic Parenting," prepared by the Association for the Treatment and Training in the Attachment of Children (ATTACh), begins with the following message: . . . Parenting a child who has a disorder of attachment is the hardest job you will ever have. . . . It requires you to give and give, without receiving much in return. . . . It requires rethinking your parenting instincts. . . . It means making conscious, therapeutic parenting decisions . . . [and having a] constant focus on the deeper meaning of your child's behavior, so that you respond to the causes, needs, and motivations of your child. It is exhausting. It is isolating, as family and friends tend to keep their distance, uncomfortable with the drama that surrounds these children.

Heather Forbes is an internationally published author and consultant, adoptive mother, and cofounder of the Beyond Consequences Institute in Boulder, Colorado. She said that her work is geared toward healing the parent-child relationship, with emphasis on the parents, because she believes that the child's healing process must come from them rather than the therapist. "Parents who are strong in who they are, even if the child is rejecting or defiant, don't have to take things personally and love unconditionally."

Like the other experts I talked to, she urged parents to focus on the child's perspective rather than their own. What is driving my child's behavior? Why is she stressed out and acting this way? No matter how unpleasant the message, parents should give the child free rein to vent, because it's important for her to be heard. Good manners and appropriate language can be worked on later.

"All these kids feel like Casey," she told me. "Hopelessly flawed. They can't be fixed. These feelings never go away. It wasn't that you didn't love Casey; she just didn't get it the right way." In the early 2000s, Dr. Marvin, along with several colleagues from the Marycliff Institute in Spokane, Washington, developed the "Circle of Security," a protocol to diagnose attachment disorder and design individualized intervention programs aimed at attachment-caregiving relationships for both toddlers and preschool children. The process, which takes place over twenty weekly group sessions, is designed to help parents gain a deeper understanding of their children and themselves, and to become more accurate and empathic in reading their children's complex and subtle cues - anger at a parent when the truth could be entirely different, or defiance masking an ability to adapt to a new routine. With a better understanding of their children's behavior, parents are shown how to apply more "user-friendly" attachment techniques.

"Our coaching helps parents shift their focus from stopping undesirable behavior to moving in to calm the child when she's out of control and can't self-soothe." Dr. Marvin explained. For example, instead of isolating the child as punishment for misbehavior, stay with her, acknowledge the upset, let her be herself. Sometimes, on some subconscious level, this behavior may be a reaction to her early abandonment. Adoptive parents need to understand and acknowledge that first loss.

"When parents follow that approach they start to see these behaviors decrease very quickly." He insisted that children, when distressed, respond much better to parents when they take charge and soothe rather than discipline, as one would a baby - the baby that child used to be and, in a way, still is.

Jane Brown is an adoption therapist in Ontario, Canada, who encourages adoptees to explore through playful group activities what it means to be adopted, how to build a self-concept as an adoptee, and how to be in the world. In a safe group, the children are more willing to take risks and model for one another, sometimes participating simply by listening and watching. She gives the youngsters exercises to encourage them to explore their beliefs about what happened to them, how they felt about their birth parents, why they'd adopted a baby, all in an attempt to lower their defenses and get their story out.

We'd spun tales about Casey's adoption from the very beginning. When she showed no curiosity about her past or birth family, we took her at her word. It never occurred to us that Casey's rages might've been rooted in suppressed feelings about her early abandonment. We tried to protect her from the pain of knowing about her stillborn twin, but maybe deep down she knew.

We looked at her birthdays through our eyes, not hers. They might have been yet another reminder of loss, not celebration. That would have explained her tendency to sabotage the entire occasion. It was probably Casey's instinct to run from strong emotions, but what she really needed was help from an understanding professional to piece together the narrative of her past and a healthier sense of herself as a whole person.

Ray Kinney claimed that, all too often, parents sugarcoat the adoption story to avoid inflicting more pain on their child. He takes a different approach - helping the child reconstruct her adoption story. She needs to know that her experience was real, and her constant and conflicting feelings about it are appropriate and legitimate. By getting the story out honestly - even if it isn't pretty - the child has a more complete sense of herself.

"They want the whole story, and when they hear it, maybe they can understand what it was like to be in their mother's shoes," he said. "When we let the child understand the trauma she's had. what happened to her as a baby, and how that's played out for her entire life, she can start to gain control over her emotions."

The onset of adolescence, middle school, and high school adds another layer of intensity into the mix. When Casey's tantrums became profanity-laced rages punctuated with I hate you, we tried to control her with endless groundings and withheld privileges until we admitted defeat. The fact that she seemed impervious to discipline we took as a personal failure. But her rages may have had little to do with us. Her inner existence was a toxic stew of fear, stress, loneliness, and self-hatred that she hinted at only on LiveJournal and the message board.

Dr. David Brodzinsky, a professor emeritus at Rutgers University, founding director of the Donaldson Adoption Institute, and a coauthor of the 1992 book Being Adopted: The Lifelong Search for Self, wrote about the effects of long-term institutionalization.

For children placed early, the sense of loss emerges gradually as the child's cognitive understanding of adoption begins to unfold. For children adopted later, feelings of loss can be more traumatic and overt, particularly by middle school when the youngster begins to reflect on what it means to be adopted, perhaps associating it with feeling odd, different.

At the extreme, resentment and rage against the adoptive parents may erupt from feelings of shame and guilt about who she is - unlovable - to which she may respond with destructive outbursts. As one adoptee said: "Being chosen by your adoptive parents means nothing compared to being un-chosen by your birth mother."

Dr. Brodzinsky cautions that there is a wide range in the expression of adoption-related grief, from only a slight recognition of pain to something more frequent and intense. Often the sense of loss can be masked by intense anger, denial, emotional distance, and exterior bravado. But beneath that tough suit of armor lies a child who has been deeply hurt by life. She is the most vulnerable and difficult to reach.

Chapter 24 - The Girl Behind The Door by John Brooks

I began to understand what it might have felt like to be Casey - the baby screaming her outrage from her crib at being left behind, thrust into the arms of two strangers from a foreign country who couldn't comfort her no matter how well-intentioned they were.

She despised them for their lack of understanding, and for being so foolish as to love someone like her. So she put on a show of bravado, suited up her armor, and pretended that she needed no one, especially them. But at the same time, she might have looked at her behavior - something she just hinted at with Dr. Palmer - and asked herself, "What the hell is wrong with me?"

She hid behind that suit of armor, lashing out at the only two people who were safe - her adoptive parents. I'd come to learn that parenting a child who had suffered so much trauma in infancy was completely counterintuitive. The time-tested methods of raising and disciplining a securely attached child that we'd learned from Dr. Spock, T. Berry Brazelton, and Dr. Phil were woefully inadequate for a child like Casey. "Sometimes you have to parent in a way that's good for your child even if it doesn't feel good to you," Ray Kinney said.

Dr. Keck recommended that infants shouldn't be left alone to "cry it out." As I'd heard from others, the parent should stay with her if she was screaming, crying, and inconsolable.

There was that disastrous trip to the Yerba Buena skating rink when Casey was eight. We left her alone in her room to cry it out because that's what she said she wanted. If we'd known better, we would have overridden her.

Erika could have rubbed her back and massaged her feet, cooing in a soft voice the way she did when Casey was younger, chanting a Polish verse that Casey loved as an infant. It was about a little spider sneaking up on her, crawling up her tummy. Erika learned it from her mother, and my mother had a similar verse, but instead of a spider it was a creeping mouse. I imagined Casey's face lighting up in anticipation of what was to come when Erika's fingers would pounce on her neck with the dreaded spider tickle, eliciting her delicious laugh: Ha ha ha!

Dr. Keck wrote that the child should be fed on demand to establish a pattern that her needs will be met and help her develop a sense of trust that relief is there when she's distressed. Day care was to be avoided, if possible, as it could reinforce the pattern of abandonment by the primary caregiver.

Thank God, we got one thing right.

We continued to send Casey to therapists who treated her as they did other patients, repeatedly focusing on corrective behavior rather than getting to the core - until Casey had had enough.

Now I don't blame her. She was right. Their kind of therapy was a waste of time.

Unfortunately, in our blindness, Erika and I were enraged. We saw this as just one more of her infuriating acts of defiance and our failure to control her. We didn't realize that she might have just given up on herself.

Children like Casey have to be treated differently - different therapies, different parenting - if they are to survive and thrive. The professionals to whom we'd dragged her over the years were not equipped to understand, deal with, or even recognize her unique life experience. They resorted to the only treatments they'd been taught. After all, they'd worked for their other young patients. Why not Casey?

A blog post titled "When Therapists Don't Get It," on a Bay Area adoption website, recounted the frustration of an adoptive mother seeking help for her son through traditional therapy channels. She reported that even therapists skilled at working with troubled children couldn't help and may have made matters worse. As I'd heard before, they focused on her son's undesirable behavior, as if correcting the symptoms would cure the disease.

She wrote: "Parents seek out experts because they want to help their child to be happy and emotionally healthy. To constantly go to therapists and be told that what is 'wrong' with their child is the parents' fault is infuriating. FInding a therapist who gets it is the key to helping everyone in the family."

I talked with Heather Forbes about our disappointments with therapists.

"Unfortunately, I hear stories like this all the time," she assured me. "If you don't get to that emotional place - the depth of the heart and soul where she felt rejected - you'll probably never have success."

There are thousands of public and private adoption agencies and attorneys available to prospective parents in the United States, but post-adoption resources are sorely lacking. In the San Francisco Bay Area, the fifth-largest metropolitan area in the United States, with more than eight million people and a large international adoption community, there are only a handful of specialized adoption therapists. I'd learned from my own quest that finding them is a challenge.

If only I could have found someone who truly understood Casey and connected with her in a way none of our therapists had, maybe she would have developed some trust and opened up. If Casey had been willing to participate in group therapy with other adopted teens, maybe she wouldn't have felt so alone, even if she did nothing more than listen. The few clues we found after her death suggested that she had searched for a community of similarly troubled teenagers. She wanted to connect with others. I talked at length with Jane Brown about her adopted daughter from China. When she was nine years old, her psychiatrist put her on a mood stabilizer to manage her violent mood swings. Within a week, the medication took the edge off her rages and her tantrums subsided. Once she was calm, the psychiatrist was able to work on her psychological and behavioral issues.

I'd looked at medication for Casey as a last resort, frightened of the potential side effects. Would things have turned out differently if we had introduced medication to her much earlier than seventeen?

"These kids are forever more vulnerable and reactive to stress, but they can learn to deal with it. Medication can help." Brown said. "Attachment can be a piece of the puzzle, but it may not be the whole puzzle."

There was another thing we did right - the cardinal rule. I learned from Nancy Verrier - never threaten abandonment

Not that we didn't think about sending Casey off to rehab or reform school, as other parents had. But my consideration at the time was more practical than altruistic; reform schools are every bit as expensive as elite private colleges.

Perhaps if we had masted just one of the parenting techniques I'd learned about, or used every opportunity to remind her how much she mattered, or responded to I'll kill myself if. . . not with silence, but with an impassioned accounting of an empty world without her, we could have kept Casey alive.

This didn't have to happen.

Ray Kinney told me that the effects of institutionalization never completely disappear. "These kids can learn to not let those wounds control their lives."

Ultimately, Casey might have left home with better coping skills, a healthier self-image, and the confidence that she had two parents whom she could trust to be there whenever she needed them.

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internaljiujitsu · 4 years

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RAGE INSIDE YOUR MACHINE: How Your Brain Makes You Mad

“The best way to control your anger is to control your body.” — Jiu Jitsu Master Rickson Gracie to Edward Norton (as Dr. Bruce Banner) in the 2008 film, The Incredible Hulk.

Bill Bixby terrified me. He’s the actor who played Dr. David Bruce Banner on the 70’s tv show, The Incredible Hulk. Bixby was a harmless looking guy, but when he’d flash those white pupils — signaling the surge in hormones that were about to transform him — I’d shit myself. The transition from man to monster, the anticipation of the horror that awaited, the build up to the inevitable carnage and destruction scared me to death. When the mild mannered scientist changed into his green alter ego, his brow widened, skin turned bright green and clothes tore from the out of control growth of his freakish muscles (while his pants always ended up making the perfect pair of shorts). Frightening.

I’d hide behind the couch whenever someone pissed Dr. Banner off. My older brother and sister thought it was hilarious, but I dreaded that moment. It reminded me that we lived with our own version of the Hulk.

My father, a giant in my eyes, would go from doting dad to terror inducing tormentor in a flash. He was the scariest monster I knew — I’d hide under desks and fake Illnesses when I knew he was angry. Given the choice, I would have taken my chances with Dr. Banner or the devil himself over my dad’s fury.

I thought I had inherited my father’s anger. Certainly, genetics played a part, but rage had also been programmed into me — to deal with a loud voice with a louder one. To conquer violence with violence. To shout down dissent in my own defense.

I worked my entire life to overcome what I and those around me deemed an anger management issue. It wasn’t frequent, but it was more intense than anyone was used to seeing. Level ten anger for a level four problem. The kind of anger that makes people of all ages want to hide under desks or behind couches.

Was I just mimicking what I’d learned as a kid? Did the build up I felt that led to the eventual eruption signify a flaw in my makeup or morality? Was I just an angry, abusive asshole at heart? All the therapy, books and lectures hadn’t helped. I still didn’t have control!

I’ve spent three decades searching for the source and solution for the anxiety and depression that made so many of my days miserable. I never examined the anger itself. The intense, rage filled outbursts I experienced were how everyone expressed anger in our home. I just happened to be the most intense of us all. I thought level ten anger was normal.

But it never felt good afterwards — I’d be exhausted. Not the good kind of exhausted, like after a grueling workout or savage sex. More like when Banner was just waking up, clothes shredded but somehow still on him, despite the fact that he was several times larger in his agitated state — fearful that he may have done some irreparable damage. I’d be groggy, sometimes in tears, breathing hard, wondering how my temper had gotten away from me again.

I ruined more than one Thanksgiving, pooped on plenty of parties and played the role of Debbie Downer on more occasions than I care to remember. Sure, the triggers were there, but my reactions were so unbelievably over the top that I was too embarrassed to go back and apologize — even though I always wanted to. Worst of all, the people I lost it on were often the ones I loved the most.

In my fits of anger, I became the meanest version of my father. Eyes bulging from his skull (partially because of his chronic thyroid condition), neck and forehead veins threatening to burst, a primal snarl through clenched teeth. Then, a voice louder than the horn on a battleship — violent hatred punctuating every decibel.

I’d punch walls or bash my own head against the nearest hard surface when I got angry. I’ve broken furniture, thrown appliances and crushed wine glasses in my hand at restaurants. The rage would only last for about twenty minutes — three or four episodes a year. The rest of the time, I was a tree hugging hippy at heart who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

That’s why it killed me so much each time I lost control. I wanted to be kind, and I knew what it felt like to be around someone scary. It sucked. Being on edge, walking on eggshells to avoid the explosions. Constant tension.

Some of my jiu jitsu buddies once nicknamed me “Buddha” because I appeared to be meditating when I sparred. They said that it seemed like I could take a nap in the middle of a match. On the days when I felt at peace, I conquered my internal demons by being calm in the face of physical conflict. In real life, when anxiety would hit, the reverse was true. Facing no real threat, fear would grip my body, and I would either whither away or explode to defend myself from an imaginary adversary.

My reactions were over the top because I felt so vulnerable. It always seemed that my mom was afraid I’d get hurt as a kid. I remember stories about how my family almost lost me as a baby or how my aunt saved me from certain death somehow. I felt weak and fragile. Seeing violence break out nearly every day on the streets of my childhood neighborhood only made the fear more real. Whether in a classroom, on the bus or in the bedroom I shared with my volatile older brother, I always had to be on my toes.

It’s no accident that I became a champion bodybuilder and martial artist. Though I wanted to focus on academics, I knew I couldn’t just rely on my mind. I needed to look strong. I needed to be confident in a fight. I didn’t want to be bothered and I didn’t want to be scared anymore. Back then, I didn’t know that it’s normal to be afraid before a fight. I thought there was something wrong with me because of it, so I worked to make that feeling go away.

But the extreme, explosive anger I exhibited as a 113 pound thirteen year old boy was the same I expressed in my twenties. I had grown into a 250 pound ball of muscle by then, and my devastating bite could be even worse than my terrifying bark. On the inside I was the same fragile person I had always been. To anyone that saw me angry, I was a scary beast.

So, like Dr. Banner seeking out Rickson Gracie to calm his inner beast, I sought peace through activity and non-activity. I gained more control over the outbursts. But when I began having episodes on days that I stuck to my rituals and felt good, I knew there had to be more to my anger than self-control. Until then, I had only addressed the depression and anxiety that I experienced since childhood. I had never looked at the anger directly, or at how it made me feel about myself.

Uncontrollable anger was the source of a lot of my shame. Self-control was always what I was after — the freedom to not be a slave to emotion. The power to never instill the kind of fear in another person that my father instilled in me. When I failed to control my anger, it was as if I devolved into my genetic predecessor — morphing into my father despite my best efforts — as if I didn’t have a choice. All the hard work of a lifetime would be gone in a burst of rage.

The realization that this anger persists under the surface inspired me to examine it beyond my triggers, or the deeply personal meanings I’ve attached to them. Rather than only experiencing and then lamenting these explosive outbursts, I wanted to understand why they happened. To do so would take being honest with myself about the circumstances surrounding triggering episodes, as well as a firmer grasp of the general causes of anger. This process has helped me to step outside my anger for the first time, depersonalizing the rage and allowing me to observe it from a distance.

I could finally understand how incredibly out of proportion my reactions were once I reexamined the triggers with my rational mind. This was aided by the fact that my latest episode took place in a hotel room covered in mirrors. I was forced to watch myself go through the entire thing. I had never seen my face — my eyes — at level ten anger. I think I may have scared myself straight.

Observing yourself in an explosive anger episode will either drive you deep into a depressive hole or kick you in the ass to figure out why you can’t seem to keep yourself together. This time, I berated myself for a day before deciding to figure out what was going on in my head, so that I can fix it.

GETTING IN YOUR OWN HEAD

The shameful hangover that persists after an episode of explosive rage will only go away when failure to self-regulate isn’t simply labeled a lack of discipline. Subconsciously reprogramming limiting beliefs that have kept you stuck in negative patterns is critical for change, but so is identifying the physiological markers of anger that serve to prep you for confrontation. Knowing that there is more happening in your head than meets the eye gives you an enormous advantage in correcting emotional disregulation. Only then can you train yourself to recognize when you need to course adjust , shutting down your body’s irrational reaction before it gets out of hand.

While traditional therapy and behavioral modification may be key in recovery, ignoring the chemical component of explosive anger is discounting the twisted scaffolding on which the ego is built. Brain function is the invisible variable that turns some of us from Jekyll to Hyde — Banner to Hulk.

There are two parts of your noggin that are key in processing anger:

The Anterior Cingulate Cortex has connections to both the prefrontal cortex (reasoning) and the limbic system (emotion).

The Amygdala — made up of almond shaped clusters inside the temporal lobes — is also a part of the limbic system, which governs emotion.

An inactive Anterior Cingulate Cortex or an overactive Amygdala can both lead to poor decision making and antisocial behavior .

The Anterior Cingulate Cortex (ACC) regulates rational cognitive function. This area of the brain affects decision making, empathy, impulse control, and reward anticipation. It connects your emotions to your actions and intercedes by considering the repercussions when your lizard brain wants to impulsively lash out at someone or something.

According to leading ADHD researcher Dr. Russel Barkley, clinical professor of psychiatry at the VCU Medical Center, the ACC does nothing in ADHD brains. There is no stopping to self-regulate the emotional state — no holding you back from making decisions that could be detrimental to a future you’re incapable of imagining.

Because ADHD is a failure of the inhibition system, Barkley says it’s critical to decouple events from responses. This can only happen when you stop and engage the prefrontal cortex to devise rational responses to triggers. Acting on impulse can be disastrous.

What Barkley describes as a “nearsightedness in time” leaves those with ADHD blind to the future. Unable to anticipate the consequences of their actions and incapable of self-regulation, they often impulsively act out against their own long term self interest. This can sometimes have severe financial, social and legal consequences.

Barkley suggests designing “prosthetic environments” to elicit behavior modification and assist in self-regulation. By externalizing pieces of information with hand written or electronic notes and reminders, envisioning future events and the sequence in which they should take place becomes easier.

In their book, Nudge, Nobel prize winning economist Richard H. Thaler and Cass R Sunstein describe the vast number of ways our decisions can be influenced by subtle suggestions. Strategically placing reminders to curtail or reinforce behavior, building in immediate rewards and consequences, and manually problem solving whenever possible can prop up executive function and lead to better decision making and fewer outbursts.

While the ACC takes into account consequences, the amygdala is a group of structures in the brain that process strong emotions, particularly fear — provoking an automatic fight or flight response. Amygdala hijack (a term coined by psychologist Daniel Goleman) occurs when the amygdala disables the frontal lobes (which govern reason and higher level cognition) and limits some unessential functions in order to prepare the body for conflict. Stress hormones flood your system, pupils dilate, heart races, blood vessels constrict and pressure rises. While being on high alert is helpful when facing life or death situations, putting your body through the emotional ringer on a regular basis due to everyday stress will break you down mentally and physically.

Setting off this chemical dance are the triggers that sit atop the surface of your mind like land mines hastily planted by everyone you’ve ever known — buried under all the shit you only think you remember. The stories you tell yourself set off a tingling sensation when someone reminds you of what you don’t want to be. Your thoughts travel and the feeling in your body transports you to a different time and place. The explosions go off, cortisol and adrenaline flood your system and you react as if you are there again.

Individuals with Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED) exhibit repeated, explosive, sudden episodes of rage that are drastically out of proportion to the trigger. These outbursts can manifest as verbal or physical abuse, destruction of property or personal harm. A study published in the journal Neuropsychopharmacology looked at brain scans of patients with IED. Researchers found that the white matter connecting the frontal lobe (decision making, emotion, understanding consequences) and the parietal lobe (language and sensory input) had less integrity and density than in healthy brains or those with other psychiatric disorders.

With what is essentially the wiring between these two regions of the brain damaged, communication becomes limited. Unable to take in all the information available, you only hear the things that confirm the irrational notions of your lizard brain. Everything becomes an attack. You are looking for the insult that will reinforce the shitty way you feel about yourself. Acting as if everyone is out to get you will miraculously make people want to stay away.

In her book, The Upside of Anger, Dr. Kelly McGonigal argues that it’s our own interpretation of stress that turns it negative. McGonigal says that if we view stress as our body’s way of preparing us for whatever comes next, a rapid pulse can mean excitement instead of fear. McGonigal’s research shows that this shift in perspective leads to physiological changes. Blood vessels no longer violently constrict when the heart pumps faster. However, the organ itself is still fed more nutrients, making it stronger. As in the physical stress put on your body when you exercise, as long as you do not overtrain, the increased demand over time creates greater capacity. According to Dr. McGonigal, a heart pumping vigorously while blood vessels stay relaxed, “looks like what happens in moments of joy, or courage.”

Meditation is an invaluable tool for transforming your reaction to stress. Dedicating time every day to practicing stillness is the best training for both recognizing the onset of symptoms (by learning to notice subtle changes in your internal state) and shutting down a reaction before any negative physiological effects take hold by instantly being still. Building my meditation muscles before figuring out what was wrong with my wiring helped me find the quiet space between trigger and reaction to perceive my anger differently.

If you see anger as an alarm signaling that some potentially nasty shit is being released into your body, you may pump the breaks when you feel yourself losing control. Doing otherwise is knowingly poisoning yourself. Once you realize what’s happening inside you when you are triggered, you’ll be able to direct the process through conscious attention. The feelings won’t trigger irrational action, but thoughtful consideration. Not only of the steps to take next, but of the source of your emotional response — thereby allowing you to choose to react differently.

When the flutter in your chest and butterflies in your stomach signify fear to your mind, your body will act afraid and your thoughts will race. The bells and whistles that go off under your skin will take on new meaning if you train your body to sit still when your mind wants to sprint. With a little knowledge and a lot of discipline, you can, in the words of the late Ted Cassidy, “control the raging spirit that dwells within.”

#mind #body #mentalhealth #anger #angermanagement #mindfulness #meditation #awareness #brain #change #behaviormodification #ied #adhd #relationships #selfimprovement #personalgrowth

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elizbethweir · 7 years

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I’m both proud and ashamed of how long this is (what is my life?). If you read all of this, you get a cookie.

I got a little enthusiastic while writing a meta (/rant) on Elijah, and on his relationship with Klaus, and also Marcel - but I mean, even his relationship with Marcel is practically about Klaus as well. I feel like this season scratched the surface of so many interesting dynamics, while never really quite delivering on any of them.

I thought this season was going to explore Elijah’s mental struggles more than it did. We learnt in season 2 that he can become incredibly unstable, but that he manages to pull himself together for most of his time by burying all of that behind the Red Door. We didn’t see much of it since, so I was eager to delve deeper into it.

Elijah normally exercises an extreme amount of control in everything he does, from the way he looks to the way he thinks to the way he acts. He’s not rash or impulsive at all. When he uses violence, it’s almost always because he rationally decided to do so. Attacking someone impulsively because his emotions got the best of him is rare, although it can definitely happen. No one is always in full control over themselves and their emotions, after all. *whispers* pulling out Marcel’s heart. To Elijah, this lack of control is abhorrent and he will always regret those lapses. After all, this is the man who has been berating Klaus (and frankly all of his siblings) for their temper and lack of control for centuries.

When the Red Door is opened however, it’s a different story. Elijah’s mind is attacked by memories and feelings of guilt and self-loathing, so powerful and overwhelming that he shuts down. He loses all of his ability to restrain himself and think rationally. His violence becomes uncontrolled and unreasoned. He no longer makes a conscious decision to use violence, it happens involuntarily. Some people argue that this is the real Elijah, while the suit-and-handkerchief Elijah is merely pretending to be something he is not, but I don’t agree. Both of these sides of Elijah are part of who he is. In fact, I’d argue one side would not exist without the other. Would Elijah be so desperate for self-control and self-restraint if he didn’t become so horrifyingly violent without it? Would Elijah try to bury all of his memories behind the Red Door if they didn’t torment him with guilt, self-loathing and regret? There’s a whole debate to be had about what exactly defines us as a person (instincts, actions, decisions, feelings…) but for the sake of keeping it simple now, I’d argue they’re all part of who you are. People are complex.

I thought this season might explore that paradox of Elijah’s deliberate vs indeliberate violence, by leading him to a breaking point again. With Klaus getting better and better at keeping his temper in check, it was the perfect time for Elijah to dissolve, and it really did seem to go into that direction – but it just feels half-assed, if I’m honest. They made Rebekah say:

“Now that our brother has found his noble purpose, what about you? (…) You're no longer tethered to him. You must have thought about it. So what will you do with your immortality, now you're not burdened with saving Nik's soul?”

I was excited. I thought I would get what I wanted: an unravelling Elijah in an existential crisis because the sole objective he had for the entirety of his life, the redemption of his brother, suddenly seemed achievable. The one thing he had devoted himself to for a thousand years within his reach – and of course he wouldn’t know what to do with his life anymore. It would be enough to give anyone an intense feeling of loss, let alone an immortal who has lived for so long. Not to mention how Elijah is a controlfreak who has poured all of himself into saving his brother simply to forget his own struggles. There is no person Elijah feels more guilt towards than Klaus. Therefore, devoting himself to his brother is the surest way for Elijah to soothe his mind and basically keep the Red Door tightly locked. He’s not ready to let Klaus go, because then what else would Elijah focus on? He desperately clings to his brother still, because his brother is the only thing that gives his life purpose.

Klaus’s redemption being the potential reason for Elijah’s downfall is something I really, really love. His devotion to Klaus has always been unhealthy, and it was bound to backfire. This season definitely did reference this a little – the finale talked about how they needed to let each other go, after all, which was a good sentiment to conclude the season with. I just don’t feel like this was much explored in the season itself at all. I feel like Elijah’s struggles were mostly just there to create Hayley/Elijah drama.

Elijah has never exactly been a good guy, but this season he noticeably made more horrible decisions without scruples – which I feel like he would’ve mostly tried to avoid before. I think this is because Elijah is painfully aware that with Klaus changing for the better, it would fall up to him to do the dirty work, the things necessary to protect the family from all harm. Those have always been Klaus’s tasks, and Elijah has always vehemently protested against those ‘reckless actions’ – but I think Elijah can’t help but admit that Klaus’s actions, however he may dislike them, are the reason their family is still here today: a necessary evil. So suddenly the roles get reversed. As Klaus attempts to be better for his daughter, Elijah is prepared to take over the responsibility of doing the necessary evil stuff for the sake of giving his brother the chance to become a good dad without any tarnish. He spent almost a thousand years trying to achieve his brother’s redemption – now that it’s within reach, what else is there for him, than to do everything in his power to make sure his brother gets to keep it? He does so by offering up his own morality for the sake of Klaus’s, kind of figuratively in the spirit of: ‘I’ll damn make sure my brother goes to heaven – even if I have to go to hell for it’. He’s protecting Klaus’s purity and innocence – or well, what the hell’s even left of it, of course (anyone remember in S2 when Elijah told Klaus: “whatever innocence remains, we must protect it at all costs”?).

Now, I don’t know how much of this is actually in the show itself. This is what I think should have taken place, but I definitely feel like the writers dropped the ball on it. It does look like the writers were going for kind of the same idea as me. After all, they made Elijah pretty much beg Klaus to let him be the monster and do all the dirty work, so that Klaus can simply be a dad:

“And how do we protect Hope from all of this? She worships you, Niklaus. She must not see the monster. (…) Let me do this, please. And should any turmoil arise, should anyone dare to disrupt our kingdom… let them answer to me.”

Now, keep in mind, Elijah made a deliberate choice to go dark, and therefore this still fits into the category of “controlled, deliberate violence”. This is not Red Door Elijah yet, but the Red Door might just start to creak and shudder a little under the extra weight. I think Elijah’s task of protecting his family would definitely be a large burden for him. He’s not as skilled as Klaus in taking down enemies by doing whatever it takes. Elijah is much more in his element when he can plan ahead, and he’s not as capable of handling himself in stressful situations when things change very quickly. He may have an act of cool indifference, but once placed in extremely tense situations, he can lose his cool - especially when he deals with things that he feels are out of his control, as the true controlfreak he is. And when Elijah becomes desperate, he is very much capable of going off the deep end, further than he would’ve liked.

As much as the lack of Hope/Elijah scenes dismays me, I think it would’ve made perfect sense for Elijah to avoid all interaction with Hope, if he were to go to such dark places. Klaus needs to be good and light to be in Hope’s vicinity as her father, so Elijah will simply disappear into the darkness and perform all the deeds that Klaus now cannot. For Elijah, it’s of the utmost importance that Hope should never have to see her father as the monster he is/used to be. He’s protecting Hope’s innocence, because in turn that means he’s protecting Klaus’s. However, I can’t tell whether those lack of scenes between them are deliberate or not, and that’s the whole problem. I love subtlety, but this isn’t even subtle anymore. This is just unexplained and messy. If they wanted to show Elijah avoiding Hope, we should’ve actively seen Elijah avoid Hope. The groundwork was there, why not follow it through? If they didn’t want to show Elijah avoiding Hope, there’s really no excuse why they have so little scenes together – yes, they do have some scenes together, but they contain so little interaction that they hardly count imo.

Elijah’s relationship with Marcel was also neglected in this season, to be honest. It was there, but most of the time not really in a substantial way. Most of the season consisted of Elijah and Marcel putting aside their differences temporarily for a partnership in which they tensely kept snarking at each other. Snark is fun, but after all the abuse that has taken place between them, I do find it quite a muted response.

The one scene I think is absolutely amazing, is the one in 4x05, when Marcel is locked in the cellar and Elijah threatens him. In that scene, Elijah reiterates what I’ve been saying above: he’s obsessed with his brother’s redemption. Everything is about Klaus and for Klaus. He will do everything for his brother’s redemption and take out everyone who threatens to stand in the way. Even if that goes for Marcel, whom Elijah once considered a son. It was a very ruthless, cold and chilling scene. Elijah was calculated in his words; he had obviously been thinking about it before he entered the cellar. All of his words were carefully crafted to make it hurt more for Marcel, make the impact greater. It was essentially parental emotional abuse, and deliberate abuse at that. Does Elijah mean what he says? Yes and no. He means it in the sense that he really would choose Klaus’s redemption over Marcel in a heartbeat, but Elijah pretending not to care is just an act. We know he cares. We saw how he cried after he had ripped Marcel’s heart out. But, as he told us, as long as Marcel forms any threat to either Klaus’s safety or his redemption, Elijah is not capable of showing any mercy to Marcel. So he puts on the act, and he puts it on perfectly, all to threaten and intimidate Marcel into obedience. Not to mention how he tells Marcel how worthless he is – it’s chilling how much that echoes Mikael telling Klaus how he’s useless and weak. It’s clear that Elijah picked up a thing or two in Abuse 101 class taught by Mikael.

The 2x02 flashback was the first time that we saw Elijah pushing away Marcel for the sake of Klaus, and he has never really stopped doing so. This is how far Elijah’s dysfunctional devotion to his brother goes. His devotion to Klaus will always stand in the way of his relationship with Marcel, so the only way it will ever be possible for Elijah to make amends is by letting go of that devotion to his brother. That’s why I do kind of like how it was Marcel in the end who compelled Elijah’s memories away and ‘set him free’ (even if the compelling thing itself doesn’t make a whole lot of sense). Marcel basically set Elijah free from one of the major obstacles always standing in the way of them having a loving, familial relationship. This is once again something I wish was introduced more throughout the season, but I’m at least curious to see how that will change things between Elijah and Marcel next season.

One thing I found the most interesting about that scene was how Elijah viewed Marcel’s worth (or seemed to, at least) almost solely in the light of how useful he has been for Klaus’s redemption. That’s really disturbing. And it’s not like it’s just Marcel either: even before Hope’s birth, Elijah has always been obsessed with her primarily because of what she would mean for Klaus. Since we don’t have much actual Hope/Elijah scenes, it’s difficult to tell how much he cares about Hope outside of her good influence on Klaus, which is a question I desperately want answered. After all, what if Hope also ended up failing in contributing to Klaus’s redemption? I do feel like Elijah places more value on blood relatives than on adopted ones, unfortunately. Klaus has always been about “we can choose our own family”, but I’m not sure if Elijah ever shared that sentiment. I’m pretty sure he silently considers that an affront – why would you choose others over your own family? He’s kind of affronted everytime Rebekah goes in search of her own family somewhere, too. The irony of course is that Klaus is only half a blood relative of Elijah, and yet he is the one Elijah clings to the hardest.

The Red Door episode of Elijah’s mind, 4x10, was underwhelming, because I feel like it didn’t actually tell or show us anything new, anything of substance. Elijah’s Red Door never actually opens throughout the season – pretty much all his violence and horrific deeds this season have been deliberate and consciously done. He’s been a little more touchy, definitely, which made him look like a ticking time bomb, but we never actually saw it go off. We didn’t get an explanation as to why Elijah seems a bit more unstable now. Freya says that Elijah’s mind is unstable, but it seems like that’s more a result of his mind shattering in the pendant, than because of anything psychological here. The show framed it like “this is who Elijah is underneath, all the time, always - we’ll show you now just to remind you, as we like to do every once in a while”. So what was the point? Was all of that just so Elijah could fall off Hayley’s pedestal? Why did we not actually explore what it would take for Elijah to open the door again?

I feel like this is one of my most incoherent rants ever. Mostly because this season left me feeling like the writers technically agree for the most part with my take on Elijah and his relationships, they just have a really bad way of showing it. Like, what I did here is ‘explain’ the storyline of Elijah and his various relationships on the show this season… yet I don’t recall seeing much of this actually on screen. Maybe if you squint hard enough, but mostly this just feels like me drawing conclusions based on the few hints they’ve dropped, paired with my own judgement on what should’ve taken place. I think that might be the most frustrating thing: seeing these little hints dropped in the show where it seems like the writers agree with me, but then they don’t really come through. It was mostly just a line here or there, and a couple of outstanding scenes, but I feel like all of the relationships suffered as most screen time was attributed to… just plot. (A plot that I didn’t care much for, I might add, because the Hollow was so underwhelming as a villain and a character, but maybe that’s just me.) I feel like the plot should’ve revolved more around these relationships, instead of trying to cram relationship substance into a completely unrelated plot.

A deeper layer of meaning is interesting, but your basic layer needs to make sense too. As I see fandom increasingly start to ask the question: ‘why the fuck is Elijah suddenly behaving this way?’ – I think they haven’t done a good job with it. I think I’ll just live in my imaginary theories world, where I clearly have many feels on the subject nevertheless.

#the originals #elijah mikaelson #klelijah #marlijah #original groupies #i feel like no one is going to bother with reading this but i still found myself compelled to write it #these brothers and their dysfunctional relationship with each other and their children are my life #i'll admit i didn't (re)watch this season as attentively as i did with previous seasons because i frankly didn't enjoy this season as much #so i feel a little less comfortable in my analysis tbh because it feels like i might've forgotten something important #well if i have feel free to correct me #to meta #to meta*#rambles #mine

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humanitysteeped-blog · 7 years

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Growing Up Godly:

A few months after my seventeenth birthday I made a video for my parents. I mostly made it for my mom because I didn't think my Dad would really react to it. I used all the pictures from their honeymoon and wedding. I layered it with emotional transitions and movement affects. I used all my moms favorite songs from her youth. My mom love 70's music. I think even today 70's music isn't dead in New Orleans yet. It's 2017. I think New Orleans was just really good in the 70's and 80's so it stayed there, stuck in time for awhile. It's just starting to change in great ways but for me and my family the older stuff represents a nostalgia that is linked to every great time we've had as a family. And those songs have been present through the generations, linking all our great memories to great memories that half of us weren't even present for. When my mom watched it she teared up. I get a lot of pleasure out of sharing things with people that make them happy. I felt fulfilled that I had done something nice for my mom. Seventeen year-old me was still very devoted to pleasing my mother. I wasn't gay yet, I worked 60 hours a week. I ran my parents restaurant with them in an experienced, efficient way to make my parents proud of the little martyr that had forgone all worldly experiences to become a man far sooner than most seventeen year olds. Still, the cold nature of my parents inspired me to keep pleasing and fighting for their affection because it was so fleeting. My slideshow was a successful anniversary gift for my parents. Having turned to extreme forms of Protestantism when I was twelve, my parents had verbally shunned their worldly past and only allowed things that were deemed "godly" into their lives. Reformed Baptists, they called themselves. For my mom the exception to the rule was 70's music. Sometimes on Saturday's when the restaurant was closed we'd run errands and she'd sing and dance to her old tunes. I loved when she'd do that because I could connect with her in those moments. They made her human. My parents always stuck out in their inner circles. Their church friends were often not from Louisiana and slightly more refined. I'm proud to say my parents were a little more gritty than their friends. They were very real people who spent their lives trying not to be. Both raised in the city streets of New Orleans by Catholic immigrant families, they were emotional, driven and partiers by nature. The accumulation of Cajun French, Sicilian, and Irish blood made up a very dramatic and broken family dynamic in our house. But no one ever really knew about it. We'd go to church and sit up straight and speak the appropriate religious verbiage when engaging. At home we fought and screamed and broke things when life got stressful. We'd cry and curse each other out and then piss ourselves laughing half way through because we knew we were ridiculous. Growing up this confused me but I appreciate it now. My parents still pretend though. I think they'll always have to to be happy. I'll always know who they really are, though. And even though they may be ashamed I'll always love how broken and interesting it is to be part of a dirty immigrant family who originated from St Bernard Parish and the Irish Channel. I don't think any of our origins are "Godly." And I don't think godliness comes from acting on things that can be labeled as worldly or otherwise. I'd have to say godliness is a state of the heart. It's deeper and more automatic. Like your heart and lungs. The rest is just who you are. My mom, having been moved by my gift, wanted to show it to everyone. At church the following Sunday she insisted that I pull out my laptop and show all her church friends. This made me feel ten feet tall because moments where my mom bragged on me were rare. It was a good day. My mom sat directly infront of the screen even though she normally would move and allow others to enjoy. This body language told me she was proud of the gift. Her southern baptist friends watched with stone cold faces as the secular 70's music wove a tale from the past about two people quietly in love. I felt the tension build and began to sweat. I love my mother but I knew the peer pressure was more than she could withstand. Turn on the social heat and my mother can sometimes forget she even has children to protect from the cruel world. Her friends, out of politeness, watched, but into the second song of the slideshow I could see my moms Stoney expression. Her face was red and I saw embarrassment in her eyes. Thinking back I get so sad because I hate to see anyone feeling uncomfortable or embarrassed. At the time all I felt was anger because I knew what was coming. My mom frowned and I was ready to fight. I get angry when I'm hurt. I think that's the case for most of us even if we can't say it. Sometimes I wonder how easy all of our relationships would be if we were willing to be honest when we were angry and just say "I'm hurt that you did or said this." I watched as my mom grimaced and then she asked in the most condescending way possible "Where did you get this music?" She asked this as if I had gotten an old Natalie Cole album from a drug dealer who was trying to expose me to the sins of the world. This was literally the music that had played in all my families restaurants since I was born so I was angered by her fake innocence. Of course me being her child I reacted -fueled by my Sicilian passion and my Irish temper. If she was going to throw me under the bus I was going to embarrass her. This was our relationship; a constant pissing match. Needy and dysfunctional. My reply was nonchalant but only she knew what I was doing. "Oh, this is just what I listen to all the time on my iPod." She may wanted to be viewed as the embodiment of what mainstream conservative reformers defined as motherhood but I was going be damned sure that everyone knew I was the dirty teenager that listened to non Christian music on an iPod unsupervised. She sarcastically rolled her eyes and said "oh, well that's nice." as she shut the laptop and changed the conversation. It was in this moment that I experienced a fury so powerful in my chest that I had to go to the bathroom as I fantasized about burning the building down. I was so angry. The truth is I was devastated and extremely hurt but emotional regulation and being in touch with your feelings isn't something we were raised with. Looking back now it's funny to me. I love my mom, she's funny and broken like everyone else. I don't blame her for how she handled that. I know how susceptible she is to the pressure of her version of society. She's a conformer to her own social subculture even if she thinks her lifestyle is her being bold and brave. She is who she is and I love almost everything about her. Remembering this story got me thinking about how so many children of the extremely religious end up leaving their parents faith for awhile. I've seen kid after kid break their parents hearts. I was one of those kids. And while leaving was the best thing I could have done for my relationship with myself and with my parents, I sometimes wonder how different the transition from dependent teenager to independent adult would be if a parent placed a higher value on the relationship with their child than on the lifestyle choices the child adheres to. Many kids leave and make themselves new only to return to the original lifestyle but with more healthy relationship habits. Some leave and the bond between parent and child is broken for good. I notice this more in extreme fundamentalist families. Also the rate of personality disorders, addiction and impulse control problems is rampant in fundamentalist children. Why is this? What makes the difference between a kid leaving his or her parents religion but growing/ figuring themselves out and a child leaving and falling apart. I sometimes think this has to do with bonding. As human beings we all have an innate need to bond. It's said that if we can't bond with the people around us, we'll bond with something less savory. I think back to my parents and what they valued. Not what they said they valued but what they actually priced with high worth. It's wasn't relationships. It wasn't kindness or humility. It wasn't their children. It was their lifestyle. All the checks and balances that were proof of their security from whatever in their past haunted them. It wasn't morality. It was things that represented a predefined and structured replacement of values. It doesn't require heart, just commitment and a lot of pride. This was why it was it was so easy for my mom to humiliate me in front of her church friends. She placed a much higher value on the lifestyle she had adhered to than she had placed on me as her child or her relationship with me. I think kids leave their religious roots when they know deep down inside that their parents faith isn't real. That their love for them wasn't real, or best very selfish and needy. It's a narcissistic thing for parents to require a growing adult to meet their egos needs in order to be loved and excepted. When people ask me if I'm bitter or resentful of my parent for prioritizing my heart last on their list or not supporting me because I'm gay. My stock answer is no because I don't want people to know that I, like everyone else, am slightly broken and a little messed up in my own way. But the truth is nobody goes through life untouched and it's important to share these things because they may help someone else. The truth is, it is possible to be healthy and move on and forgive all while still being a little angry or sad. I wouldn't expect my parents to change their beliefs for me because I wouldn't want them to expect the same of me. I value their independence and what they have done for themselves and who they are. I also value these same things in myself. And because of that I hold people accountable for how they treat the people around them, including myself. Growing godly taught me one thing. It taught me about false morality. It taught me to judge and be arrogant and I could be bitter about that if I wanted to. But I'm not. I'm not because growing up godly gave me a perfect representation of how easy it is to throw people aside and what pain can come of living in a bubble of your own arrogance and lack of empathy. In a way, I'm now hypersensitive to to the needs of others and wrestle with flaws in my character rather than flaws in my lifestyle. I don't remember anyone I went to church with caring about their character or their heart as much as they cared about gay guys getting married or women daring to speak up for their rights. I think the way I grew up was labeled as godly but actually the farthest thing from godly. I think I want to raise my kids to be godly. To love the hurting, feed the hungry, and defend the marginalized. I think I want to be godly in that way. To love without expectations or requirements. To know what I believe and who I am but not be so insecure and unsure that I have to belittle or shake my head at someone who isn't just like me. I'd like to teach my kids to love even those who don't agree and to not require compliance with their ideas in order to embrace and support people. That seems like a godly endeavor to me.

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survivinglifescurveballs · 7 years

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Real lessons of motherhood

I say things I never thought I would

“Take the plastic bag off of your head,” I said to my seven-year-old son.

“Why?”

“Because you can suffocate and die. How many times have I told you not to put plastic bags over your head?”

“A lot.”

Are my kids the reason for these ridiculous warning labels? Heavy sigh.

The weirdest things come out of their mouths too

Dominic-isms at ten-years-old

“What is shampoo?”

"Could you pass the Parmesan and ..." stops to read label "Roman cheese".

“I am going to get my Valentine a box of cigarettes.” He was thinking chocolates, but looking at a stop-smoking billboard.

Xander-isms at seven-years-old

"Three thousand, million, dillion dollars. That's how much money I want and I also want everything to be free...for our whole family. Then Papaw and Grandma Fran could get everything they want."

"I want a 16-hour delay, but I don't want to miss lunch".

"Cookies aren't protein?"

Grocery success depends on your entourage

When my children were small enough to be contained in the cart for our entire shopping trip I could read labels, compare pricing, succumb to my own impulse buys. But then as they grew they no longer stayed in the cart and grocery shopping turned into a sick game of “don’t touch that,” “please stop running and sliding on your knees down the aisles,” “watch behind you,” and “no, we are not getting chocolate peanut butter dip.”

Now, when I walk into the grocery store, I secretly think may the odds be forever in your favor to my fellow shoppers.

Self-checkout is the worst

If you have children old enough to be outside the cart, self-checkout becomes more of an intense game of simultaneously scanning groceries while keeping them away from the scale with a live audience of all the shoppers impatiently waiting behind you. Why yes, yes I am self-checking an entire cart of groceries because for whatever reason my grocery store has no cashier lanes open.

To add insult to injury, who is the sadistic jerk that thought advertising candy at children’s eye level in the self-checkout lane was smart? Newsflash, it’s not smart, it’s evil. Instead of succumbing to your marketing tactics I am leaving with a crying child and right temple that may very well explode at any moment.

Pick-up or delivered groceries are from heaven

Amazon pantry started it all for me with delivering shelf-stable pantry staples to my door, but then Kroger one-upped Amazon when they offered their click-list service. Now I can order everything I need online and pull up to the store where some wonderful human loads my car up for me. I don’t even need to get out to help or to pay. They bring the iPad to me to swipe and sign. Then I just drive away, can you believe it? It’s like something out of a fairytale. No more self-checkout, no more candy aisle, my kids stay strapped into their seatbelts and we accomplish what we set out to do easy breezy lemon squeezy.

Blissfully enjoy the baby bubble

When I brought Dominic, my first child, home from the hospital I collapsed into tears because I was terrified. The weight of the world, his world, was now on my shoulders and would remain there until he grew into an adult. The magnitude and depth of this responsibility were incredible and I did not think I was capable.

Coupled with the fear was also amazement. Each time I looked at his tiny bird-like legs, his soft blue eyes, his bald wrinkly head I felt pure awe. The movement of his breath was rhythmic, chest up, chest down. Here sat a being, a human that had grown within me, with a beating heart and blinking eyes. It was a miracle, he was (and still is) my miracle. How is this even possible? I would ask myself over and over.

Nothing mattered outside of Dominic. My world revolved around meeting his needs. Rocking him as the soft hairs from his head tickled my neck, breathing in his scent, filled with more love than I ever knew possible. This is the bubble, treasure these moments. You may have other children, but the baby bubble will never be the same.

Parties in the early afternoon suck

I am the oldest grandchild in my family and naturally, I was the first to purchase a house, get married, and to have a baby. My family came to all of these celebrations. As my cousins got older I was also invited to all of their celebrations and I wanted nothing more than to go. Every invitation I received was for one or two-o-clock in the afternoon.

This is right in the middle of nap time.

Naively I went to the first few parties, skipping my son’s nap. It was utter hell. He was whiny, mean, and wild throughout the entire party, but it did not stop there. His crap behavior carried over into the evening right up until bedtime.

That’s when I decided the price was too high. It was just not worth the horror of missing the nap. I was embarrassed and stressed, my hosts probably wondered what kind of demon I was raising and both of us wished I just would have stayed home. So know that I love you, am proud of you, and are with you in spirit.

If you hurt my child I will hunt you down

No one will ever love my child like I do. My love is deep, fierce, and unyielding. There is something incredibly special about a mother’s love for her child. This is impossible to understand until you become a mother.

This is not to dismiss the love of a father or future spouse. Those relationships are just as important however they are different.

William Congreve said, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” I say… nothing. Instead, I quietly stalk my prey like a mother tigress and pounce when the time is right because if you hurt my child you deserve no warning.

Facebook is full of lies

Helpful hint, no one has it all together, everyone has different struggles, some are just better at hiding it than others. We all see her, the beautiful mom who seems to have it all figured out. She posts pictures of outings with smiling, well dressed, clean children. We are happy for her, but begin to wonder if we are as good a mother.

STOP RIGHT THERE!

That photo took one second. ONE. SECOND!

Think back on today. Can you remember one second that was picture perfect? I know you can. The problem is not your mothering. The problem is the question, Am I as good as X?

Parenting is messy, full of self-doubt and we are all learning as we go. Some days I have it all together, but most days I don’t.

Dr.Seuss said it best.

Parent YOUR way, teach lessons to YOUR children that are important to YOU. We are all different, including each one of our children and our differences should be celebrated. It’s YOU your kids love, not that other mom. So go mom like only you can!

Pinterest is full of fairytales

Have you ever tried to recreate something you found on Pinterest? Yeah, did it turn out like the picture? No? Same for me, every time I try.

Comparing your first attempt to someone’s best is like comparing your karate moves to a black belt’s. Yours will probably not be as good, but with practice and patience, I’m willing to bet it could get better.

The moral of the story here is keep it all in perspective and maybe try that new Pinterest thing a few times before debuting it at your next holiday celebration.

Prevention is the key to toddlerhood survival

Put everything out of reach and be aware that everything is climbable. The world is basically a giant jungle gym playground and all things, literally, every single thing goes into their mouths.

Some of my mom friends were determined to teach their toddlers self-control.

Well, if my friends are doing it, maybe I should give it a go.

Every few minutes my toddler would grab something that posed a possible threat and shove it right into his mouth. Up, down, up down, like a little game every time I sat down he would get into something that I would need to take away.

I was way too tired for that.

Instead, I de-cluttered my house and got rid of anything that was not toddler-friendly. Basically, my house was decorated with baby gates, Disney themed plastic toys, and pictures of my kiddos hanging on the walls. All cleaners, self-care items, toxic or messy products were put on the top shelf of closets.

One time I left my shave gel out…

Another time I left the baby powder down…

Danger lurks everywhere

Before I had kids I thought I protected myself from danger pretty well, but now I see the possibility of death in just about every activity.

“Mom, can I help dad mow the lawn?” Sure, go ahead and flip the mower on yourself and lose a limb.

“Mom, can we go to the zoo today?” Will today be the day one of the tigers gets loose or my kid wanders into a bear enclosure?

People learn through experience, yes I know that. I also appreciate the significance of learning from cause and effect. As long as there is no emergent danger (life or limb) I release the boys from my cocoon of safety so that they may gain the necessary experience.

I am also the mom frantically waving my children and husband closer when they have floated too far from the beach thinking of sharks, jellyfish, muscle cramps, undertow, etc. It’s all about balance, right? I balance irrational fear with measured risk taking like any good mom.

You are all your kids need

Overthinking is one of my best and worst character traits. I love to think about everything not in any kind of skilled way but just meander through my own messy mind. It’s interesting what floats around in there, the imagined possible outcomes to different scenarios (see above, danger lurks everywhere), the fascination of the simplest joys (enjoy the baby bubble), the ease at which self-doubt creeps in (facebook is full of lies). Do you know what I have learned from all that analyzing?

All my boys really want and need is my undivided attention. Still, at seven and ten-years-old they want to be near me, to hug me, to wrap up in a blanket with me in the evenings while we watch Animal Planet or Nat Geo.

Toys, trips, trinkets are all just fluff. It’s me they want. And that works out pretty great because they are all I have ever wanted. So let’s go mom the only way we know how, in our own special, unique way.

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prosperopedia · 6 years

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Beginners Guide to Raising a Family for Father’s

Let me start out this simple guide by giving some of my background. That seems like a good starting point. I’m going to share with you some of the things I’ve learned over the past 15-plus years of being married. I’ll also go beyond that time in history and share what I’ve learned about what it takes to build a solid family over the 40-plus years I’ve been part of a family. Neither the family I grew up in, nor the family I’m in charge of now have ever been close to perfect. That’s why I titled this the “Beginner’s Guide.”

In reality, we are all beginners. Wherever we are on life’s continuum – whether sons learning to be men, newlyweds, young dads, old dads (I think that’s where I am now), grandpas, and those who are preparing to fade off into history – there is always much more to learn than we currently know. Thank goodness, for those of faith, we understand that there will be many more years to continue working toward perfection after we’ve returned to the dust from which we were taken.

I have been blessed to the husband of an amazing wife, and the father of six children. I have one daughter and six rowdy boys. We love to travel together. We’ve lived in China and Costa Rica. We’ve traveled together all throughout the United States, some parts of Canada and Mexico, and in a few other places in Latin America. We enjoy doing music, competitive sports, and lots of other fun things. Although it’s fun to get a break from the crowd once in awhile, we generally love being together.

I think that as a family we’d score pretty well if we took one of those sophisticated tests that assess your overall happiness level, although there are too many times in my mind when I’m frustrated and yell at my kids, when I swear for no good reason, when I spend too much time watching college football instead of catching up on my list of house chores, and when I have to tell my wife sorry for doing dumb things.

We’ve been referred to by a neighbor of ours as “the family that walks between the raindrops”, but that just means he doesn’t know us well enough to observe that, like most families and people generally, we endure some significant storms, and that there are lots of moments when we have to ask ourselves, “What in the heck are we doing?” We likely have failed more than we’ve succeeded, but we are certainly in the business of trying…again and again.

In my beginner’s guide to raising a family, I’m going to point out some principles, share some stories, and hopefully provide some advice and context that might help you raise your family.

The Proclamation on the Family

I’m going to start my list of tips for raising a good family by sharing a document that has been read by tens if not hundreds of millions of people throughout the world. It was published by the leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (or LDS Church, the religion to which I adhere) in 1995, read over the pulpit to a worldwide audience of women by Gordon B. Hinckley, the president of the church. When he read it, President Hinckley stated that the proclamation was for not just the membership of the church, but for the entire world. In his introduction, he stated that the proclamation was issued to “warn and forewarn” the world against leaving “standards, doctrines, and practices relative to the family.” He then read what has become known as “The Family: A Proclamation to the World.” I will embed the video below, but I will first summarize some of its key points. Among other important assertions, The Family Proclamation states:

Gender is an eternal characteristic; boys have always been boys, and girls have always been girls, even before this life began and after it ends.

Marriage between a man and a woman is critical, even essential for raising a family.

Sexual relations should only take place between a married man and wife.

Married men and women are encouraged to have children and to conscientiously teach them to do good.

Children are entitled to be born to married parents who are faithful to each other.

Happiness comes from following the teachings of Jesus and by

God ultimately holds people accountable for not fulfilling their roles as fathers and mothers.

It doesn’t take long going through that list to get the impression that it may be slightly idealistic. However, the ideals represented in the document are ones that the most successful families, be they members of the LDS Church, other Christians, or people of other religious convictions, strive to uphold.

As I look at my own family and our commitment to living the principles found in that document, I can see clear benefits of both studying that document and living by what it teaches, regardless of what religion you are or how religious you are.

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The Challenge of Raising a Family

Raising a solid, functional family may be one of the most difficult things a man can do in this life. It’s more difficult than obtaining a college degree. It’s often harder than setting sports records or achieving lofty business goals. Many times it can compete with those other ambitions. But it’s certainly worthwhile.

I’ve set and achieved educational goals. Before I got old, I sought after athletic achievement in baseball, football, and other sports. I’ve become a serial entrepreneur, and I’ve built and sold successful businesses several times. I’ve even developed somewhat of an amateur music career. All of those things are fulfilling, fun, and give flavor to life, but I would not take any of those things over my role as a husband and father.

The Perfect Family

The concept of a perfect family has changed significantly over the past several decades, especially since the sexual revolution of the 1960s, when the widespread pursuit of pleasure started eroding the traditional Judeo-Christian concept of what constitutes a family.

For those who are still committed to the traditional concept of family, the perfect family consists of a husband, a wife, and some children existing in a household where love rules and contention is overcome by bonds that are strong enough to create a unique unit of relationships that are special. The parents in a perfect family don’t get divorced. They communicate well. They adore each other. Their children are disciplined, grateful, well adjusted, not bratty.

To my knowledge, the perfect family simply doesn’t exist. I have observed families who are certainly closer to perfection than my own, but even those have weaknesses.

So while we fathers from time to time have these moments when we feel like things couldn’t get any better, we understand that we have a lot of work to do.

Here are some things I’ve seen work very well as I’ve led my own family. I hope they’ll work for yours.

What a Husband and Father Should Be

The standard for men in modern society has deteriorated quickly, leading to a time in history when expectations for adult males have settled for simply requesting that we not be too drunk too often, and that we not sexually assault women, although it permits every other sort of debauchery. It’s hard to think of a lower bar than what modern society has set for men. Our roles as providers, leaders, and heroes for our wives and children have given way to indulgence, addiction to selfishness, to pornography. A #MeToo social media hashtag is passed around millions of times daily, underscoring the failures that have surfaced in the collective characters of men in the 21st Century.

Society’s pathetic expectations for men are far too low for a man who wants to raise a decent family. Instead, we have to be better. We often have to separate ourselves from that influence. We’d be better served to turn off the television and disconnect sufficiently from that influence.

To raise a good family, a husband and father can’t get bogged down in what a depraved society has put forward as the model of a man.

Instead, a family man has to be unselfish, giving, patient, a hard worker, worthy of emulation.

The essence of raising a good family is to become, as much as is in your power, a good man.

Developing Self-Discipline

I remember several years ago when the news broke that Tiger Woods had taken a tire iron to the head from his soon to be ex-wife. She had found out about his sexual exploits, and her response was at least not surprising, if not entirely justified. In the months following the downfall of the world’s best golfer, it was broadcast that Tiger “suffered” from a thing called “sex addiction,” which apparently made it impossible for him to be faithful to his wife. His so-called affliction sounded concocted to me. The idea that a man cannot having control of his sexual urges came from fraudulent studies like those of Sigmund Freud and Alfred Kinsley, and have been blithely accepted by and built upon by those who have come after them, until we have created a situation where our moral agency has given way to impulses and pleasure seeking. That mentality does the opposite of helping men be capable of raising functional families. When a generation of men have been conditioned to believe that they shouldn’t, in fact they can’t, control their sexual appetites, it is impossible for them to be good husbands, good fathers. Their mistakes not only destroy themselves, but they affect heavily the next generation and beyond.

The best advice a guy could take to prepare himself to get married or to reinforce his current marriage is this: discipline your sexual habits. In my religion, similar to many other Christian religions, we are strict about observing a chastity law that prohibits any sexual relationships before marriage, and that restricts sexual interactions to only the person to whom you are married. No exceptions.

Statistics and experience show that without this kind of discipline over natural instincts, there cannot be successful marriages, which also means there cannot be functioning families.

Another form of discipline seems to always come in a close second to the important quality of being chaste.The habits you develop with regard to finances can either make or break your marriage. Data relating to causes of divorce shows a high financial correlation between lack of financial discipline and divorce rates. The less financially responsible you are, the more likely your marriage is not going to last.

The takeaway: learn to be a solid earner and get on the path to financial discipline. If you need help making your way toward a financially disciplined lifestyle, I recommend the Dave Ramsey Baby Steps approach to personal and family finances.

Marry the Right Woman

I’m not a person who believes in the idea of a Utopian soul mate. For many reasons, I don’t believe that any man has been matched up by the universe with one particular person they are destined to meet and to whom they must be married to avoid living a life that always falls short of the ideal. Based on my strong belief that we all have been given our respective abilities to choose, it would be impossible to think that the one true love theory could have merit.

However, I do think that it is a highly appropriate decision for any man who’s in the market for finding and courting a potential marriage partner to focus his attention on women with whom he has similar interests and high compatibility.

Despite the popular notion that opposites attract in relationships, I have read that the best marriages tend to exist among couples who have lots of things in common. I’ve found that to be true in my own marriage. After dating hundreds of different girls at the college marriage mecca of America, Brigham Young University, I finally found one (during my third senior year) who was as committed to my religion as I am, who loved dancing and music like I do, whose family wasn’t wealthy but not too poor (economically similar to mine), who was from a culture (Texas) that used the word “y’all” like I did growing up and still do today, and who, very importantly for me, loved sports, especially football.

While I was in the dating field, until I got engaged at age 27, I often referred to Proverbs 31:10-31 in the Bible, which starts out, “Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies?” I learned from those verses of scripture a lot about the Biblical perspective of what a woman should be: kind, unselfish, hard working, supportive of her husband, dedicated to her children. When I met my future wife, I matched her up against what I had decided to look for. It turns out that process worked very well.

Despite some significant differences in our families (my in-laws are Texas A&M fans, and I come from an FSU Seminoles background) our similarities have allowed us to bond successfully over more than 15 years, with many more together expected in our future.

Marrying the right person and being the right person to attract that person was obviously a critical step for me in raising a good family.

Be Fiercely Loyal to Your Wife

Once you’ve found and married a good woman, it becomes your opportunity and obligation to be unwaveringly loyal to her.

Before I was married, when I was dating around looking for someone I could fall in love with, I was like most single adults. I was flirty. I intentionally struck up conversations with girls often as a way to get to know them, often with the purpose of asking them out on a date.

To a large extent, that “playing the field” approach was backed off whenever I had a steady girlfriend, someone I had committed to in a way that meant excluding other girls. Then, whenever a dating relationship was broken off, I would usually intentionally go back to the mindset that would allow me to find another girlfriend.

When I was engaged, I was more vigilant about shutting down flirting or other attempts to attract other girls. Then, when I got married, I knew it was time to become fully committed to the girl I was now fully committed.

Too often, men will get married without conscientiously making this transition to full exclusion to their new bride. Women often make the same mistake. For a marriage to be fully functional, a man has to determine that, although he will have professional, social, and other interactions with women, his interactions with all other women will always be of an nature that is free of reproach, that never can be called into question. The Bible explains that a man “shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.” Attaining that kind of unity with your spouse naturally expects a high degree of loyalty.

In our personal application of this principle, this is how my wife and I demonstrate our loyalty to each other and avoid any hint of straying. We never ride in a car alone with someone of the opposite sex. In our business and other dealings, we would never go to lunch with someone of the opposite sex. We don’t go into a home alone with a member of the opposite sex. In general, we do everything practical to avoid any appearance of showing romantic interest in anyone else.

That approach has given the two of us an added layer of trust between us and has established a clear boundary that helps us to reinforce our relationship.

Many of the stories you hear about infidelity start with one of both members of a married couple not setting those boundaries of total loyalty. A man will go to lunch with a co-worker “innocently” a few times, then he finds himself involved in an affair that destroys his marriage and turns his kids’ lives upside down. Set those boundaries and commit to complete loyalty, and you’ll spare yourself and your family the pain and heartache that can never be compensated for no matter what pleasure or ego boost might come from getting attention from a woman who’s not your wife.

One of my favorite quotes about fatherhood, one from Theodore Hesburgh, captures this commitment to loyalty and the value it provides in strengthening a family: “The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.” Whether it’s the temptation to indulge in pornography or the difficulty in turning down social opportunities, developing a fierce loyalty to your wife becomes a source of resilience in a marriage.

Learn to Be Unselfish and Deferential

A funny experience I had shortly before I got met my wife provided an epiphany and a lesson that I’ve referred back to often. While I was at a gathering of couples, most of them newly married, at my brother’s home, I walked in and asked if anyone wanted to play basketball. Being a single guy, I was surprised at their natural responses. They each immediately looked over at their respective wife, their body language asking for permission.

From that experience it was clear to me that these guys had learned that their options weren’t entirely their own now that they were married. They had to sacrifice some of their own independence for the sake of a higher cause, their marriage relationships.

I’ve found out over the decade and a half since I got married and began having kids that I have to give up whatever selfishness I had as a single guy (everything from always controlling my own time to getting a good night’s sleep whenever I wanted) and instead replace it with a commitment to doing what’s best for my marriage relationship and for the health and well-being of the entire family. Sometimes when I find myself tired and sick, I have to get out of bed in the middle of the night and take care of a child who needs help. My wife does the same for me.

I’ve heard several times with regards to marriage, it’s not 50/50. Each partner has to give 100%. That principle should be taught to kids as well, making the whole family operational as a unit instead of each of the individuals trying to figure out how to get away with giving the least that they can get away with, or to break even with the relationship. That attitude cannot last long for any one particular member of the family to be at

Selfishness kills marriage and family relationships. Selflessness causes them to thrive.

Weekly Date Night

Having a weekly date night is recommended by most marriage experts. I’ve found that scheduling a regular night with my wife each week and being committed to make that happen is very valuable for a making the family run smoothly. It allows us a chance to have a conversation without being interrupted by children or other distractions, and it reminds us to one degree of another of the time we were dating. We usually go out to eat at a restaurant, sometimes followed by shopping. Sometimes we’ll go see a movie or do something else entertaining.

During our weekly date night, we occasionally take one of our six kids with us, which gives us a chance to chance to catch up with that child individually. We normally rotate the date night schedule through all of our kids so that each has a chance to feel special and to develop their relationship with their parents.

Weekly and Daily Planning Meetings

One of the most valuable skills I learned while serving for two years as a missionary volunteer was to set aside at least an hour each week to plan and coordinate with my wife. We normally hold our weekly planning meeting Sunday nights, which seems most appropriate because it’s on the eve of when we kick off our week and implement our plans.

Besides holding a regular weekly planning meeting, we also try to catch up each night with our plans for the next day and make adjustments wherever necessary.

During our weekly planning meetings, we set and review our family goals, do calendaring for the upcoming week and beyond, create to-do lists, and essentially spiritually create what’s going to happen in the coming week.

During our quick nightly planning sprints, we check over what’s coming up the next day and make whatever plans we need to.

To make our planning more efficient, we use an online calendar. We prefer Google Calendar because of how it allows us to share calendars between our various Google accounts.

Weekly Family Night

In our family, we set aside one night each week during which we hold a family night. That activity normally is scheduled for Monday night, but it can change depending upon plans that involve sports, music events, and other activities.

Although it takes effort and can sometimes be frustrating, holding weekly family night ultimately builds unity among family members. It also creates a more formal setting for your wife and you to assess how your kids are doing, make plans together, and to teach and instruct your family.

During our weekly family night meetings, we normally sing church hymns, recite our family motto (I’ll include it below), have a religious and/or academic lesson, visit friends, do service for the needy, go out for entertainment, or take part in some other activity together.

During one of our family night meetings several years ago, we decided to create a family motto, which we recite together during our weekly Our kids participated in creating the motto, so they feel ownership of it. This is what we came up with.

We are the Robbins family.

We strive to be like Jesus, and treat others with kindness.

We are honest and true. We are loyal to each other.

We have fun together. We are helpful and hard-working.

We never give up, or take the easy way out.

We earnestly seek after knowledge and wisdom.

We work together as a family to build our faith.

We are the Robbins family.

Consciously, Assertively Spend One-on-One Time with Your Kids

In addition to our weekly family night and our less frequent inclusion of them into our date nights, my wife and I spend conscious quality time with each of our kids. With each additional child we’ve had we’ve come to understand that there is no extra allotment of additional hours in a day, so we have to be more assertive to make sure each gets attention from us.

To spend the time with my kids that they need, I’ve had to give up other things and make adjustments. Years ago as a BSA leader, I found myself taking them on camping trips with me even though they weren’t old enough. My wife and I have taught each of my kids (including my daughter) to appreciate watching college football, so we can enjoy that activity together instead of having to give it up entirely.

Some of the major ills I see among today’s kids is a result of what I sometimes refer to as “Fortnite Parenting”, named after the highly popular, but (in my strong opinion) entirely valueless video game. Raising children doesn’t mean simply keeping them out of the way, occupied with something that is destructive. Perhaps the most effective way to develop your children’s respective abilities to become good people and to have a solid relationship with their parents is to replace their screen time (pretty much of it, except what they’re using for educational purposes) with valuable, scheduled interaction with one or both parents.

Raising A Family is Worth the Effort

I hope my little beginner’s guide to raising a family has been helpful to you. The things I listed here have worked very well for me, my wife, and our kids.

Being the head of a family has certainly been hard work, in some ways harder than I ever imagined. However, the returns are immeasurable. For those who put in the effort to create and maintain a healthy, functioning family, the effort is always worth it.

The post Beginners Guide to Raising a Family for Father’s appeared first on The Handbook for Happiness, and Success, and Prosperity Prosperopedia.

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sumofmanythings · 7 years

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The Love Series: "Loving Through Adversity"

May is Mental Health Awareness month, and I wanted to continue my series on “Love and Relationships” by addressing the question: Loving through Adversity: How do you love someone who’s broken? Is it possible? Is Love enough? This portion of the Love and Relationship series begins with a guest post from writer, author, and poet, Nikki Williams Rucker. Nikki is also the founder and executive director of "My Sister's Keeper" (MSK), an organization that mentors young girls and gives them with the tools to become better women and future leaders. I consider her a friend and lovingly call her one of my “little sisters.” She’s a phenomenal mother and wife who writes with such authenticity and transparency. Today on the blog, Nikki shares her story of loving someone through adversity and brokenness. Nikki courageously lifts the veil around mental illness in the black community and gives us an inside look into what it feels like to love someone in the midst of adversity. Her story is one of so many in our community, and I thank her for her openness and willingness to share. –D. Sanders

To stay or not to stay

By Nikki Williams Rucker

I'm sure many women in my same position have asked themselves that very question on more than one occasion. It all starts out the same way. Boy meets girl. Girl likes boy. Boy returns the feeling. Boy and girl decide to take things to the next level; smiles, phone calls and all of the other exchanges that come with dating and love follow. Boy and girl can't live without each other and enter into holy matrimony. Lives join; morals and beliefs are in sync. First, comes loves, then comes marriage and yep you guessed it, hey mom here comes the baby carriage. Life is great; boy, girl, and baby even buy a little cute fluffy dog to stand behind their brown picket fence and all of a sudden, the phone rings; Girl answers and life changes forever. All is going well until the one day you get a phone call that your spouse is in the hospital psych ward. He has attempted suicide. Your world stops. Every argument, misunderstanding, flare up and stern talking to comes racing back to your mind, and you wonder "what did I do wrong?" Was life with you so difficult that it made the person you pledged former to want to leave not only you but the entire world? Minutes turn to hours and hours turn to days of intensive therapy, people in and out of the house and finally you discover that your forever has been diagnosed with a major depressive disorder. Something that they don't believe will ever be cured but can only be treated. Your new life together is now marked with bouts of sadness, uncontrollable anger and impulsive thoughts and actions. Your mind races and you think of your children. How will we manage? Can you handle this? How will this ever work? Should you stay or should you leave? All of these thoughts and more came racing through my mind and my heart when I found out my husband was suffering from mental illness. I thought his sadness and reclusive actions when it came to spending time with our family had come from the newness of being married and becoming an instant family. I thought he was tired from the long drive to and from work to our suburban homeand that was causing his lack of interest in sex, and I thought our constant arguing and his anger were minor growing pains of two individuals joining their lives. What would my friends think? How do I explain to my daughter what is happening to her step dad? I had to tell people something. We had just gotten married, and life was looking good for us up until this point. I mean sure we argued but what couple didn't argue? I put on a brave face and stopped talking to people about our relationship. Instead of telling them, he was tired from work and has issues with his family that caused him to break down. I opted to suffer in silence for the next year as we fought constantly and his fits of rage and sadness constantly gripped our lives. Only a few close friends knew the truth because I didn't want to be told I was a fool or called stupid for getting married. After all, he was never violent towards the kids and me. Never laid a hand on us or near us.

It wasn't until I watched the police take him into custody in front of our home 2 years later, because one of his angry outbursts had finally spilled out onto our front yard with him trying to set our house on fire, did I realize we were dealing with something serious, and I had a decision to make. I packed my things, put a down payment on an apartment for the kids and myself and called in my crew to help me get out of there when a question popped into my mind. If I had been diagnosed with terminal Cancer would he leave me? He was sent to a mental hospital for a week, and my mother agreed to take my kids to her house to give me both time and space to think and clear my head. As angry and embarrassed as I was that he allowed our secret to be shown to our entire neighborhood, I couldn't shake the question. I wrestled with the decision to leave for two days as I removed pictures from the walls of the house, cleaned up the broken glass and items that were broken during his fit of rage and one day I broke. I sat in my closet and cried.

I asked God what I had done to deserve this. Why did I have to marry someone broken? Why didn't He stop me from getting married if He knew the kids and I would be subjected to this craziness? What if he had passed this down to my son? At that moment, I felt God's hand uncover my eyes and show me the man I first fell in love with. The gentle soul that loved me through some very in loveable moments. The man who had taken on my daughter as his very own. A man whose own family had abandoned him and who essentially raised himself. A broken man who was figuring out his way. He wasn’t just my husband, he was my friend, and he needed help. There is such a stigma around mental illness that I didn't even realize I had silenced myself. I didn't realize I too was buying into the idea that black people shouldn't talk about it. Although my husband had been medicated to control his anger and was in therapy, I hadn't truly accepted the idea that his mental illness was real and if I was going to stay, I needed to be ready to take the full ride. And if I was going to leave I needed to make a clean break and accept all that came with leaving, including my own and my kids’ mental health.

After some serious soul searching and talks with my real girlfriends, I decided to stay. I called and forfeited my deposit on the apartment and put a plan in place. I even talked to my mom who revealed my dad, who was also a veteran, struggled with depression and medicated himself with alcohol to cope with his feelings. She stayed for 51 years but never told anyone about his mental challenges, not even my sister and I until he had passed away. When my husband got home, we had a very long talk about him taking his medication, about the importance of including me in his therapy sessions, about how our conversations needed to look and sound when he was feeling well so the kids and I could feel safe. We included time for him to feel how he felt without judgment but both agreed that neither of us had the option to bow out if we were going to make this thing work. If he needed a break, he needed to communicate that, and he asked if I would help him with learning how to be a husband and father to our two amazing kids. One of which has now been diagnosed with mental challenges. My entire family is in therapy. We each have our individual sessions, and we also have sessions together. We go when times are good and when times are tough. My daughter was very apprehensive at first and thought therapy was a place for “crazy “people. Now she understands there is nothing wrong with having a safe space to go to talk about her life. We have a very open dialogue about depression and mental illness, and she is very helpful and patient with her brother as he navigates the world. I have learned to let some things go and accept that while our lives may not be what I thought the picture would look like, it is the life God has given us and I vowed to stop perpetuating the silence surrounding mental illness.

As a veteran and a black man, my husband deserves better than a life of turmoil and ridicule. On one of our many down and dirty, honest moments when I challenged my husband with this idea that in the moments when he becomes derailed, to stop and think about his family and his kids. He shot back something I will never forget. He said “don’t you think I realize what I am doing is hurting you and the kids? Don't you think I want to stop hurting you guys by putting you through this emotional roller coaster? When we become derailed, we can't stop and once we do come back, knowing we hurt the ones who we love the most makes it even harder to get back on track. It's a cycle of shame and anger that is hard to stop”. Society already sends him a mixed message about what his manhood should look like; I refuse to add more confusion by pushing this issue into the closet.

Until we start to talk about and deal with depression and other mental illnesses in our community, our men with continue to be stigmatized, and our families will continue to be burdened with pain. “Suicide is the 3rd leading cause of death for black men” according to the CDC. As a community, as women, as wives and mothers, we must begin the process of changing the narrative surrounding mental illness not only for our black men but for our families. More people are suffering from mental challenges than you realize. They may not look like what we see on television or visible signs of the stereotypes we have been shown; it can be the man sitting silently or the woman smiling brightly.

My son is the smartest, funniest little ball of energy you ever want to meet. As we teach him how to give his feelings words and help him navigate the world around him with his mental struggles, I wonder how much better off our black men would have been had someone taken the time to help them give their feelings of brokenness, anger abandonment and fear words instead of telling them to “man up”. How many families and lives could have been saved if they knew they weren't the only ones going through challenges? We as a community, must start opening our mouths and sharing our experiences to help one another instead of judging and criticizing. Now more than ever, we must give our black men a safe space to express how they are feeling and give them room and words to tell us what they feel so the healing can truly begin, and lives can be restored instead of ending: DEATH BY SILENCE.

-Nikki Williams

*You can read more of Nikki’s works in her first published book, “Spoken Word” available on Amazon.com. Click the image to purchase. *

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wavesofserenity0817-blog · 7 years

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Tattoos? Yup

I love when people tell me “OMG your tattoos are so unique and cool!” but I also love when others say “Wow that’s dumb” or “why would you get that” these questions I love because I get wild-ed up and can’t wait to snap back at them! I understand people get tattoos just because it looks cool, yeah sure that awesome I have a few for that reason but most of mine have these special reasons that really shut people up after they make their smart comments. So here’s a list in order of when I got my tattoos and their meanings: “Fighter” on my right rib: Yes, the typical “my first tattoo story” I got it done in a guys’ basement but he worked at a shop too, but whatever... RECKLESS! Anyways… I come from a broken family. Mom and Dad never got along. 8th grade they started the divorce process and it took a great toll on me and my Dad constantly harassed me on who my mom was dating and what was going on. The situation caused me to do some things I desperately regret. I thought the only way to relieve the pain was to inflict it elsewhere, so that’s when the blade met my wrist, and then I met my school counselor. I couldn’t have been more blessed with someone who understood my feelings and would listen. I eventually got through 8th grade with clean wrists. Freshman year, oh shit high school. I had my first love and got my heart shattered by sophomore year. Never lay your heart in the arms of someone who done you wrong the whole relationship. Once a cheater always a cheater… Lesson learned. So that brings me to this tattoo meaning. By Junior year I was stronger, clean wrists, smiling and strong because I fought my own demons along with everyone fighting against me. It was only later did I realize this tattoos meaning would become more meaningful when another Ex decided it was okay to abuse me, emotionally, mentally, and psychically. I continue, to this day to fight some personal battles with family, my past, and learning that I am strong and can and WILL conquer whatever you want to throw at me. LIFE, BRING IT ON!

“Love” with a key, heart and bow on my lower back: Go ahead, say it. “OMG WHAT A WHORE YOU HAVE A TRAMPSTAMP” Well technically not really, it’s panned off to the side of my lower back… so screw off. This is the “first” tattoo my mom knew about. (sorry mom). She took me to get tattoo while she was getting her first too, but the shop was busy and could only do hers’, so I went back the next day and got one. I know how against tattoos my father was so I was done out of spite. Plus I was still underage, but hey it was “cool”. So I picked out a design that a guy has posted on his wall. I didn’t think, I didn’t know a meaning for it, but I figured while the needle was in me I could make a meaning. Like I said it was done to be spiteful. After a few years I realize its simplest meaning… Love is the key to life. What do you have if you don’t have love? It’s honestly not my favorite tattoo, and I intend in a few years to get it covered, but for now it just is a reminder, don’t do things out of impulse and spite!

Infinity sign with one side being a wave on my hip: This tattoo was the first of something amazing, and I don’t mean a tattoo idea. This is the first tattoo my boyfriend took me to get. He’s not all for the ink, but he agreed to hold my hand. Ever since I was little the water and waves were my serenity. “Oh no she’s crying”, yup, take her to the beach, I stopped. As I got older the waves did more than sooth my tears. As I sat with my bum in the sand and stared out into the horizon, I would collect my negative thoughts and worries, and throw them into the waves, when the waves retreated back from the shore I knew my worries were gone. My worries and thoughts were washed away. I once read a story/poem whatever you want to call it, about an oyster. The moral of the story was that, that little bit of sand that gets into the oysters shell causes so much pain for him, but he made the best of it and turned it into something beautiful, a peal. Although this tattoo isn’t an oyster it still makes me think of that story. It means everything to me that even after all the bits of sand (assholes I dated) in my “shell” I turned it into something beautiful a.k.a my boyfriends and I relationship.

Angel Wings across my back: MY FIRST LEGAL TATTOO! This is one of those tattoos I liked just because of the way it looked. It wasn’t until after I got it that I realized its true meaning. I’m no perfect angel, I defiantly have my demons, but I am protected and guided by the wings of my grandfather (and now grandmother) and God who will always guide me and protect me. I know my wings are not ready and though I thought they were in 8th grade when I made my stupid choices. I now know that God is still creating my wings and isn’t ready to give me a real pair.

Baby feet, halo and angel wings on my ankle: This one is just as hard to talk about as my “fighter” one. This one changed my life forever. When I was in my abusive relationship with my Ex, I ran to my best friend. He didn’t know the whole story, as I feel like I didn’t want to talk about it I just wanted to be held in the arms of someone I know would care. I never pictured a relationship with this guy; he was more of a friend and occasional flirt once in a while. Well I guess falling for you best friend in my case came with a whole package… I quickly found out I was pregnant from my best friend, while I was still in the abusive relationship, I knew then I had a ticket out of hell. With the stress of my Ex off of me I now had to have the reality settle in I was going to be a 17 year old mom, with a guy who only considered me a friend. Terrified, shock and stress began to hit harder, we knew I was getting further along every day and that we had limited time to tell our families. Yes, we ended up together, finally after years of hiding our feelings. His birthday came around and so did ultrasounds and the tears and fear of telling our families. The night before his birthday we laid in bed and I could feel something wrong in my stomach, my boyfriend placed his hand on my stomach and rubbed it. The following morning I awoke in severe pains and bleeding. I knew, he knew. Our baby grew his wings and left us. I tried not to let it ruin his birthday but I was clearly upset. We didn’t tell the family until almost a year and a half later when I found out my freshman Ex knocked up his girlfriend he cheated on me with. I was upset and depressed and was drowning in my thoughts. “Why does she get the life I could’ve had?” I had to let the tears roll and spill my heart out how I was hurt and that we miscarried and hid it from everyone, and after my miscarriage I found out I have PCOS which makes it difficult for me to conceive. I lost a miracle. To my surprise, nobody cared, and I don’t mean they didn’t care like they would’ve been mad, I mean they didn’t care as if like what the hell was two 17 years old still in high school were going to do with a baby, and the start of a fresh relationship. I guess they’re right, what were we supposed to do? We clearly wouldn’t have had any help… I still look down and cry and wonder what he would’ve looked like, I still look at the ultrasound pics and wonder if he hits homeruns in heaven like his daddy does. But he’s my angel and I am forever blessed for him bringing me and my best friend closer and if it wasn’t for him who knows if we would’ve ever confessed our feelings for each other. R.I.P Justin Clark.

A Cross on the back of my neck: Just below my cerebellum, lining my spinal cord. The cerebellum controls voluntary movements, balance, equilibrium, and fine motor skills. The spinal cord is connected to the brainstem which basically controls all vital bodily functions. So growing up in a catholic school for my whole life with the exception of two years, which were hell, I learned a lot about my faith and trust in God. He really does control my life, and he only gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers, so everything I thought could break me only made me closer to him. He listened to every prayer, and saw every tear and still threw stuff in my way but he knew before I did that I could overcome it and it would only benefit me and my strength in the long hall. At times I doubted him he always showed me there’s a light and guided me through.

“Blessed” on my wrist: “Blessed is she who believed that there would be fulfillment of what had been spoken to her by the Lord…” –Luke 1:45. I don’t mean to blast you with religion and bible verses’ but this is ME. I should’ve just listened to God and known he wasn’t going to fail me, I should’ve known he would’ve pulled me out of the deepest waters. The placement for this tattoo is to remind me never to place a blade there again, to never break skin. I am blessed that I never made a cut too deep, and I think that’s because God was the one who guided my hand to put the razor down, he knew my wings weren’t ready yet. If he didn’t grab my hand and make me put it down, I probably wouldn’t be here. I was blessed Senior year to be a peer minister which to some just means I got to wear a wood cross around my neck and be a counselor to anyone in need. To me it meant the world. Although not many were there for me in my time of need I was there for everyone else. I eventually got to become a certified Eucharistic Minister, at first it was pure excitement to be able to do something during mass instead of just sitting there. It wasn’t until I held the body of Christ, in my hand blessed who receiving it, that I realized this is what it feels like to be blessed to be a child of God.

“D.J.W” on my rib: Everyone’s favorite to talk shit about. Yes, you guessed it, my boyfriends’ initials. Dumb idea? NOPE! Regret? NOPE! Did he make you do it? NOPE! Does he have yours? NOPE! This was a decision completely up to me, and I don’t regret it. Might have been the most painful I have gotten! My other side of my rib did not hurt as bad as these three letters. The tattoo artist joked and said “maybe the pain is your reminder that no matter how hard it gets, no pain compares to the needle piercing your skin with his name” Boy, was he right, my boyfriend and I have gone through hell to get to where we are now. I wouldn’t trade any fight, tears, or yelling we ever had, it only made us stronger. Yes, I plan on adding to his initials. Under them will be “ I love you” in his handwriting” and under that will be the date we get married in roman numerals, which we intend to be married on July 25, 2020. So please feel free to make a comment on how dumb I am for having my boyfriends’ name on me.

“Family is Forever” on my top shoulder: Like mentioned before, I come from a broken family. It wasn’t until my mom met my step dad did I realize how important family is. He not only filled the father role, but he made my Mom happy. He took on two kids who he barely knew and called us his own. The attachment grew quick. The unconditional love he gave to all of us, mended the broken pieces. Though he was no stronger than my mom the two created a strong family that wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for their love. I see how he looks at all of us and how we changed his life, but in reality he changed ours.

“For one so small, you seem so strong” on my bicep: if you’re a Disney fan you know this song, come on… Tarzan! “You’ll be in my heart” by Phil Collins. I didn’t get this tattoo because I like Tarzan, in facts it’s not even in my top 5 Disney movies. This is a song my mom would always sign to me when I was little, because she’s a huge Phil fan. I get a lot of comments like “is this for you kid?” because I guess it sounds like I’m talking about a child, but nope. This tattoo just reminds me that I am small compared to this universe but I sure am as strong as anything in it.

Mickey Mouse Ears, with fireworks behind my ear: If you couldn’t tell, I’m a huge Disney fan. Every year for my birthday I would go to Disney and hit up every park as a kid, it was literally the dream. I got to be in the parade for my birthday, not a big part, but I got to dance around in the parade with Snow White. I even got a Cinderella dress from the gift shop for free for my birthday, I literally treasure that dress! This one is mainly for the sole reason of me just loving Disney, and Mickey, and my favorite part of Disney World is the lightshow and fireworks at Cinderella’s castle at night, that’s why there’s some fireworks added around it.

Heart on my finger: OH shit tattoo! Ever get a hangnail and try to pull it and your raw skin comes off with it? Yup do that over and over and over again, that what a finger tattoo feels like. I don’t recommend getting a finger tattoo, not because of the pain, but because of the constant need to fix it, and get it touched up. You are constantly using your hands and washing them, so it makes the ink fade quicker. This was a spur of moment tattoo with my mom, she has the same on in the same spot, from a distance it looks like pen on my finger but up close I guess you can tell what it is. One side is purple for her and the other is pink for me, kinda like my first “best friends” tattoo with my mom. I laughed while she was in pain because I felt like I have more tattoos than her I’d be able to endure the torture but damn I was wrong.

“Neverland” around my ankle: This one is wrapped around my ankle, under my angel baby footprints. The story goes that Peter Pan was an angel that guided children who passed away; he was taking them to Neverland (Heaven) so they never had to grow up. I want to believe that my grandfather or Peter Pan, or God helped my little angel reach heaven, where he can remain innocent, well loved, and become everything I wish I could’ve seen. I hope he’s like his daddy and good at baseball, and football, I hope he has daddy’s blue eyes and curly hair. I hope he has my humor and daddy’s personality. I hope someone is up there, watching over him until I get my wings and can continue to care for him. I hope he smiles down on his daddy and I and are proud of us. And I hope that someone is up there playing all the Disney movies for him to watch and learn.

Roses on my chest: Well it sure didn’t start out like that! I had my mom’s birthday in “roman numerals” a little below my collarbone, but I got it done for $20, should’ve known then to RUN! Well when the guy finished I looked down and was mortified! It was like I gave my 3 year old cousin a pen to draw on me. There were no dashes to make it look like roman numerals, the letters were different sizes, not straight and had stray marks. He clearly knew I was upset and decided to touch up my finger tattoo for free, and told me to come back to finish my roman numerals. I knew better than to ever go back there again, and I never did. I went to the shop my boyfriend and his mom go to, everyone was very tough looking and took no shit. Well I asked the one guy if it was possible to get an appointment immediately as my moms’ wedding was 3 days away and I was maid of honor, I surely didn’t want a chicken scratch tattoo shown in all our photos to remember! He felt so bad once I told him the story; he promptly brought me in the backroom and he got right to sketching a beautiful design. I told him the gist of what I wanted, to start a half sleeve and incorporate roses, and my moms’ birthday and a butterfly and a rosary and even a sugar skull. I basically gave him free will on how to design it! But it wasn’t going to be all done that day! He didn’t want to let me be in my moms’ wedding with a ugly tattoo so he started my half sleeve covering up my stupid $20 chicken scratch. For now until my broke ass can afford the rest of my sleeve, I have two beautiful black and grey roses covering the old one. I can’t wait to add to it in due time.

As mentioned, all my tattoos have specific meanings, so what about their placements? Of course I thought about that too!

“Fighter” on my right rib: The choice to put this tattoo here was simply the fact it was the easiest I could hide from my parents. It sits right under my bra strap but is visible in a bikini, due the straps being smaller. I also picked the right side because I know it’s RIGHT to fight and to be smart about my choices. I know it was RIGHT of me to get help when I desperately needed it but tried to avoid it. I know my heart and gut will always be RIGHT. “Love” with heart, key and bow on lower left back: This was more a spiteful spot because I know my father hated tattoos in “tacky” spots, which the lower back being one of them. So I figured if I just “stretched” enough near my dad and have my shirt lift ever so slightly, it would draw his attention to it. Sure enough it did, and I got my ass cussed out and I smiled the whole time. Infinity sign with wave on my right hip bone: This one is right on my hip bone, don’t freak out, it actually didn’t hurt as bad as it sounds. This one is placed just in the right spot to be seen in a bikini, which fits perfectly because it was meant to be seen on the beach because it symbolizes it. Angel wings across my back: This one is almost self-explanatory. Wings grow from your back shoulder, so I think at least. Baby footprints with halo and wings/ Neverland on my left ankle: My ankle? Yes my ankle, because there’s a quote that says “never run faster than your guardian angel can fly” which makes complete sense for this tattoos meaning. My angel baby will need help learning to walk, even if I’m not physically teaching him, someone has to show him the steps. If I’m running he won’t be able to catch up to me and I wouldn’t be able to help him take his first steps. Eventually we will be able to run and fly together. Cross on back of my neck: As stated in the meaning, its right below my cerebellum and the cerebellum controls everything you do. My faith, my religion, and my spirituality made me realize that God does guide my every action. “Blessed” on my left wrist: Also, as stated before, I put this on my wrist to remind myself to keep my wrist clean. Yes there are still scars, but the tattoo is a distraction from them and reminds me to not create anymore. Also, it’s on my left wrist because that is a my self-harm wrist, and your veins go right to your heart from there, which is one of the many veins cut when committing suicide. “D.J.W” on my left rib: The heart is placed on the left side of your body right? I thought so. He is my whole heart and always by myside, literally! “Family is forever” on my left top shoulder: Are you catching on to the theme here? Everything to do with family and love is on my left side because of my love for my family, and friends, and relationship. “For one so small, you seem so strong” on my left bicep: Yes another left side tattoo and right on my bicep so I flex my muscles and show how small yet strong they are as well as I am. Mickey Mouse ears with fireworks behind my right ear: Disney fireworks, the yelling and screaming, the parade, the rides, the music is all sweets sounds to my ears. Heart on my right pointer finger: This placement was completely random, I wanted a black palm tree on my finger but once the stencil was on it ended up looking like a big black blob on my finger so my mom and I switched it to a heart. Honestly I think we did this placement for a unique spot and to be “bad asses”. Roses on my chest over my left collarbone: This was simply because that’s where my shitty $20 tattoo was. I originally had my moms’ birthday over my heart because she gave me life and I love her with all my heart. I plan to still add her birthday to my half sleeve.

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themondayphilosopherandmore-blog · 8 years

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Travel Memories and more

I have traveled quite extensively for a 20-year-old, and I wanted to post about my personal travel memories here. This may seem like a strange subject for an inaugural post, but I want every post to be very specific.

Everyone loves to have great experiences while traveling. That is why there are so many guides written for people to do that. Memoirs about travel experiences have turned into bestsellers. Heck, the main selling point of the (overrated) film Before Sunrise (as well as many others, but that’s the only one I have seen) is that it was based on an experience that two people had while traveling.

I have no travel plans in the immediate future, so let’s look back at past travels and the great experiences I had. I used to want to be a travel writer for exactly these reasons. Now that’s just one part of what I want to do.

However, let’s get to the stories!

The Most Incredible Summer

Let’s take us back to when I was thirteen. My dad decided it was a good idea to take his three children to New Mexico for over a week. We had a great time, and I could go through all the highlights (and lowlights), but let me just say this: for a trip to be great and memorable, good and bad things must happen. There must be highlights and lowlights. If a trip is just smooth sailing, it is not as memorable as one where some rough seas are hit. I am not saying that everything or even the majority of things should go wrong. My first of seven family reunions in Hawaii was like that back in the summer of 2007. And I didn’t like that one bit.

Rather, I am saying that there needs to be ups and downs, just like any story.

A Long, Grueling Flight

Sometimes great things happen when you least expect them to. Take for instance December 20, 2014. I boarded a flight from Miami to San Francisco, on my way back from Brazil, where I was living at the time, to visit family.

The flight took over six hours, and I thought we were farther along than we were the whole way, which was cruel as I thought landing was imminent even though we were still over an hour away. The rainbow I saw over the Bay Area out my window was a small consolation for what I had gone through.

Especially the turbulence. For the final two and a half hours, we were rocked. I was sitting in front of two older ladies who were freaking out. And just when it had stopped for long enough to think it was over, it started up again.

I thought I was never going to make it through that flight. It was so hard to deal with. But it was still a beautiful experience. You know why that was?

Because of the person sitting next to me, who I have never seen again. We talked for the entire flight. Just sat and talked.

Only Have Time For a Few Sentences

1. I am taking a hiatus from writing due to finals (this week) and spring break (next week). You know, I just want to relax.

2. So many people are prisoners to their own mindsets regarding how life should be lived. There is no single formula for what to do and when to do it. I believe in moral absolutes, yes, but within that, there are many ways to live life. If there weren’t, life would be boring, and yet so many people don’t think that way.

3. Another of my favorite travel memories is the so-called “Miracle on Ice Water.” The details are too sensitive to share here, but if you want, look up the short story “The Hours that Lasted Forever” on my Wattpad profile for a fictionalization (with all the irresponsible stuff taken out).

4. “Something to Talk About” by Bonnie Raitt is the single best soft rock song sung by a woman. Ever. I just discovered it about a year ago, and I can’t think of any song with those qualifications that comes close.

5. I watched this video on someone’s Facebook profile that ridicules the film Me Before You. I thought the quotes from that were awful, and the makers of the video agreed, as they decided to use those quotes in real life. Imagine telling a girl you know that she is the only thing that makes you want to get up in the morning!

6. This section was only included because I wanted to fully describe each, but it’s late at night and I have to get this in while it’s still Monday.

Props to Sundance and Emma

I had one of the best solo meals of my life on Saturday night, with my mom away to visit a friend and my sister away to visit a friend as well.

Sundance the Steakhouse, in my hometown of Palo Alto, is surprisingly cheap when you don’t order steak. Even more so when the kind staff gives you a free drink and a free appetizer because you’re a poor college kid. I think Emma had something to do with that.

Emma, you see, is an old friend of my other sister’s. She was really nice to me at the restaurant (she works there as a hostess). And I’m very thankful I got to share the evening with her, even though I talked to her very little.

Important Quotes

“And since you called her out so fast, maybe you need to [work on your impulse control] too.” -Me, arguing with both my sisters.

“Aleph numbers are easy.”

-My middle-school age sister Daisy.

“Rock and roll never forgets!”

-My acquaintance Alyssa, on Chuck Berry’s passing.

“Someone will have to deal with this tomorrow.”

-My tired mom on our dining room.

“I’m not saying that’s what I think. I’m saying that could be what she thinks I think.”

-Me, on the subject of my acquaintance Julia.

Significant Figures

588. That’s how many days an old relationship lasted (active and in my mind), which inspired some things I want to write and self-publish in 2018 and beyond.

18. That’s how many days I will take to write my debut novella, called Always Found.

Things That Only Interest Me

Last year, we had “The Games of the Thirty-first Olympiad.” In reality, we have only had twenty-eight modern Olympic Games. For some reason, the IOC counts the Games we missed due to the world wars.

People say that “liberalism” is inefficient at fighting terrorism, but the deadliest terror attack in American history came under the leadership of George W. Bush, who is our most recent conservative President.

I think that the opening sequence of Richard Strauss’s Also Sprach Zarathustra would make great music to walk into a room with.

Throwback

I want to discuss the two days in my lifetime today (March 27) has fallen on Easter: 2005 and 2016. On March 27, 2005, I was in Mato Grosso, Brazil, on a hike to a cave in a national park. It was a great hike marred by an inefficient guide and bad weather. On March 27, 2016, I had just been baptized for Easter and celebrated my mom’s birthday at my grandmother’s house (tonight she came to our house).

Favorite Social Media Moments

The debate about which TV character you would call if you were kidnapped.

Reacting to the “white nationalist” ideology that has regrettably gained steam in the past 5 years or so.

Posting my thoughts on a certain Biblical teaching.

Announcements

I have no spring break plans as of now. I was going to write a 630-page novel, but pushed that back. I would go to Colorado to see a friend, but I don’t have the money.

I am expecting to ace my finals. I have taken one, with another yet to be taken.

The new quarter will be another great learning experience with two more prep classes (writing and advanced algebra).

Important Points of the Week

1. Happy birthday to Mom (today) and my dear friend Nathania (Sunday), who have their birthdays in the same week, a rarity as they are six days apart. I love both of you very much. Mom, you have always been there for me when I needed you to be, even when we were a long way apart. Nathania, I love being your friend and our conversations are amazing. You may be one of my favorite people in the world. Scratch that. You are one of my favorite people in the world. And I miss you very much.

2. I’m glad that the Raiders will move out of the Bay Area. Now the 49ers will be the only team here, so all those pesky Raiders fans can move to Vegas or be irrelevant. It’s their call.

3. I get really emotional when it comes to political matters, but especially when it is late at night and I am sleep deprived. Then I’m just a no-filter loose cannon who will offend anyone in his path. Hey, at least I know myself.

4. I can just feel Easter getting closer and closer. Thank You, Jesus, for your unending mercy and grace.

5. Speaking of Jesus, have you ever stopped to think about how absurd it is that certain people think that people who are not Christians should get the full extent of their religious freedom, but Christians should be restricted in it so as not to impose their religion on others? It’s a double standard.

6. Ed Sheeran’s new studio album, ÷, is the definition of top-heavy. It has two good songs, but the rest is just so boring.

7. Palo Alto, California is so overpriced. Where else can you get an iced tea with lemonade from a coffee shop for nearly four dollars?

8. I think this has been the best edition of March Madness in several years, pending the Final Four.

9. The end of the fifteen-year-old film The Others will blow your mind.

10. Recent random thoughts:

a. Too many people have too many friends, if the statistic that you can only stay connected to 150 people over a certain period of time is legitimate. Or at least that’s what I think with regards to Facebook.

b. Still, anyone can make up statistics. 2 out of 3 people know that.

c. See what I did there?

d. Way more people like me than I like to think.

e. I probably could get married by the end of 2018 if I set my mind to it, but I have bigger fish to fry.

f. People talk too much about things that don’t matter.

g. That is because things that matter seem to offend everyone.

h. I hope I did well on finals, but I won’t know until the end of next week.

i. The above was not a random thought. I don’t care, because I couldn’t fit it in anywhere else.

j. I have never been lost in the wilderness, even though it seems kind of fun.

k. If I make it out, that is.

l. The weather this spring is supposed to be warm and wet in California. That’s my least favorite type of weather.

m. I don’t like spring weather in general. In the summer, we have warm days. In the winter, we have cool days. In the fall, we have in-between days. But in the spring, we can have any of the three.

n. I love reading.

o. I have way too many books to read.

p. I love writing.

q. I have even more projects I want to write.

r. As I write this, I have a final to go to, but I can’t tear myself away.

s. If I fail that math class, you are reading what is to blame.

t. I still have over an hour to get there.

u. Other people are hard to figure out.

v. Especially people older than 40.

w. I really have to go.

The Final Question

What is your favorite travel memory of all time?

Sign Off

That’s it for the week of March 27, 2017. I hope you enjoyed reading The Monday Philosopher.

With love,

William

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