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faithfulcat111 · 4 years

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Okay, this bit is going to appear to start in a really weird place, but that is because I wrote this entire AU stream of consciousness style in my notes and just broke it into sections to post here cause it was like thirty pages. So part two!

Vanya wastes no time driving to Diego's. She can't get Five out of the car by herself, so she goes into the gym and manages to find Al who looks like he could be in charge and asks if he know where Diego is. Al is immediately defensive, wondering if this is some weird ex. Not Diego's usual type, but hey who is he to judge. When Al asks why she is looking for Diego, Vanya explains that she is his sister and she has their missing brother and needs Diego's help. Sister instantly set off red flags because as far as Al knew, Diego was pissed and fighting with both of them. Al wasn't even sure how many brothers Diego had, having only seen one around (the only sibling around actually), and only heard of the others as a group in passing. But a missing one? No wonder the kid is messed up. He agrees to help Vanya get Five into Diego's room as Diego is out right now and holy shit, that is a legit kid. Too old to be a kid of Diego's, but he almost looks too young to be their sibling. And Vanya is grabbing a couple duffle bags and abandons the keys. Something weird is going on. Al gets the kid inside for Vanya, but decides he is staying out of this mess.

Vanya waits inside. Five isn't waking and Diego takes a few hours to get back from his vigilante stuff. Al manages to catch him and says his brother and sister are waiting inside so don't throw those damn knives at them. Diego is confused, but Al keeps going, saying that his sister showed up with a kid claiming it was their missing brother and the kid looked horrible and, Diego runs into the room and stops short when he sees Five of all people sleeping on his bed with Vanya reading beside him. He is understandably not happy about Vanya just showing up and wants answers about why she and Five of all people are here. Vanya tries to explain the best she can with her limitied knowledge: Five showed up at some point, Dad was keeping him at the house cause he is sick or something due to time travel, Luther tried to contact the siblings, but could only get ahold of Vanya, Luther got Five out of the house before taking off to some important mission to the moon. Luther never saw Five awake and neither has Vanya yet. Diego needs a moment before he asks why Luther even bothered getting Five out. Vanya says that all he told her was Mom mentioned it, that Five needed family. Diego still feels like there are so many missing pieces, but you know what, he'll take what he has and since Mom wanted Five to get out like everyone else, then he is staying out.

Five chooses this moment to come back to consciousness. The two just hear a slight whimper behind them at first and turn to see Five sleepily blinking his eyes open. They stare at him for a long moment before he just screeches. Vanya practically jumps on the bed grabbing Five and holding him which promptly shuts him up. He looks absolutely bewildered. Diego steps forward, cautiously asking if Five knew who they were and where he was at. Five reaches up one hand to touch Vanya's arm and just whispers in a far too raspy voice, "Ghosts can't touch me." And then passes right back out.

Okay, their brother has obviously been through some things and is traumatized af. Diego helps Vanya navigate their brother out of the coat, startling when something falls out of one of the pockets. It's Vanya's book. Clearly it is Five's copy as a quick flip through the pages shows a bunch of equations scribbled through the margins. What stops Diego though is that this is a library copy. And the last date it was turned in was in 2019. Nearly four years from now. Vanya sees Diego holding the book and starts to say something, but is cut off by him just saying that Five definitely time traveled before showing her the stamps showing when the book was last checked in. He then says that Veggie will be looking for them, or at least Five, and they need to go. So he stuffs some things into his own duffle bag, hands all the bags to Vanya, scoops up Five, and leads the way.

This is where I stopped writing for two months because I was working on another AU and had finals and holidays, but I think I remember where I was going with this, so here we go.

Diego, Vanya, and Five take off with only a call to Eudora from Diego (who they are newly broken-up, so it takes awhile, but Diego finally just tells her he has to leave for awhile and if she can keep an eye out for Klaus, he would appreciate it) and Diego telling Al to just box his stuff up or sell it. They leave in Diego's car, although they trade it out at a sketchy car lot the next town over. Why did they take off like this? Diego knows what the evil there father figure is and Vanya quickly figured out they would have to leave to avoid him taking back Five, which is her focus. It doesn't take long for Diego to deduce that is her intentions and for his big brother instincts to take over and decide to run with them and take care of the two.

Through the initial 24 hours after they take off, Five is mostly asleep. They bring him back to consciousness a couple of times to drink something or eat something soft, but he appears to also have some kind of fever.

They end up in a mediumish-sized town in the midwest just big enough that they can disappear into. They pull the siblings trying to get away from abusive situation card with a nice old lady who manages an apartment building and lets them stay and even hires Diego as part of her maintenence crew for the buildings she runs till he can find a proper job. The old lady seems to be under the impression that Five is one of their kids, not little brother, but they can't figure out whose kid she thinks he is, because she clearly knows that Diego and Vanya are siblings and it is a whole thing. They also give fake names when signing their lease, but I'll figure those out later.

Five finally wakes up more coherent then he has been a couple days later under Vanya's careful care. He seems very confused about where he is, understandably, but especially by Diego and Vanya being there. He appears to vaguely remember being locked up by the trauma-meister, but seems hesitant to explain what happened before that. Vanya explains that Luther got him out before taking off on some important mission to the moon on Grace's prodding and Vanya and Diego took off with him as they didn't want Veggie taking him back to his torture chamber.

After a little bit of prodding, they finally get out of Five that he traveled to the end of the world, set to happen in 2019 and they need to stop it and that he was trapped there for two years. Diego and Vanya are doubtful, but they agree to help under the condition that they do it under the radar considering they need to stay hidden from Vegetable until at least 2018 when Five will be, biologically 18.

And that is the premise. There is no permanent orchestra in the town they moved to, but Vanya lands a job teaching music theory and such at the community college and giving private lessons to local kids on the side. After a month of working for Ms. Roberts (I've decided that is their landlord's name), Diego gets a much better job, working first in janitorial at the local gym and a temp trainer, before being hired on permanently. Five is a bit more trouble. People seem to freak him out in large quantities, but he is also a kid, even though he is a very smart kid. And with Ms. Roberts knowing he is a minor, they really don't want the CPS breathing down their necks and taking their technically kidnapped, but very traumatized brother away. So, Vanya finds a local homeschool coalition. It requires that Five shows up for an in-person class once a week, but he can do the rest of his classes online and that gives him plenty of time to work on the end of the world stuff. He picks the music theory class that Vanya volunteers to teach to give Five free tuition.

And the three slowly build a life in this town. Diego and Vanya seem to have silently agreed to just pretend the Book never happened so they can take care of Five. Five clearly has nightmares and freaks out at both people and being without his siblings, so he goes with them everywhere (he ends up auditing all the classes Vanya teaches at the university when he enrolls at 17 to start on a math degree, mainly because he already sat through the classes a couple of times at this point).

They don't contact Vanya's orchestra, they were miffed when she called to say she wasn't showing up anymore the day she got Five. Diego calls Eudora after about six months to check in. She picked up Diego's only box of stuff from Al that he left behind and is holding it for him and agrees since Vanya's year lease is almost up to clear out Vanya's old apartment soon. (She is just being really great, but they aren't telling her the brother they are watching is a kidnapped minor for a reason). She also tells them that she had to put Klaus back in rehap a month ago and he had seemed really confused by her doing it instead of Diego like usual. Diego won't tell her where he is though. She does agree to look into the eye Five finally admitted he has from the apocalypse and will gather all info she can find for when Diego calls back. (When he does a few months later, she tells them the eye doesn't exist, the company it is from hasn't even started making prosthetic eyes yet).

And then, Vanya's pills. Well, she realizes she is running low and since they are laying low, she can't exactly call her old therapist or psychiatrist and get a refill. So, she goes to a new one who flips at the level she is taking (how is that allowed!!!) and starts a plan to wean her off those and onto a new set of anxiety meds that would be better for her. Vanya starts to feel happier and better overall. There is complaining about the bad lightbulbs Diego always buys because one seems to shatter every two months and she always seems to know what either boys are muttering even across the room, but none of them really notice Vanya's powers. Maybe because Five seems genuinely terrified of his own at the moment and they all know they can't draw attention to themselves as former members of the Umbrella Academy, but powers are the furthest thing from everyone's minds. Diego even goes to a sort of seedy tattoo artist and gets his covered up, playing up the umbrella as a stupid drunk mistake he wants to forget and Five takes to wearing long sleeves and bracelets so people can't see his. Five also goes and sees this therapist and gets classic GAD and PTSD and goes on anxiety meds too eventually. Vanya just has SAD and over the time they are in this town, she eventually gets weaned down to an as needed pill, which she only is to take for an attack which ends up being once every couple weeks or so. Five is on daily meds. Dunno yet if this will be relevant, but to give you an idea of the starting point I have for each of them. Five also has asthma from all the ash.

#again I'm staying vague cause i really wanna write this #I'm totally picturing on of my friends as i write five in this au and i hope he doesn't get mad if he sees this #also #if you wanna suggest names for these lovely people in hiding #please do so #alias au #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #vanya hargreeves

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skeleton-richard · 4 years

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A Fact About Me That Sounds Fake

But is true. I went to Dashcon.

Dashcon, for those unfamiliar, was the one attempt at a convention organized by and for tumblr users, much like a regular geek convention like Comic Con, just smaller and essentially limited to people on tumblr. At the time, early 2014, it didn’t sound as crazy as it does now, I swear. July 11th, 12th, and 13th, 2014. I was 19 and had just graduated high school. I was a nerdy autistic homeschooler who had made most of my friends through online fan communities, on tumblr and deviantArt. One of these friends was planning on going to Dashcon, since she was in Illinois at the time, and I ended up deciding to go as well. The previous year I’d gone to ChicagoTARDIS and it was a blast, so this would basically be the same thing. I lucked out that not only would my parents let me go, I would get to stay at the hotel hosting the convention by myself, they were getting a room at another hotel. I had never been away from my parents for more than sleepovers and I’d never been entirely on my own. I was going to go to college that fall, but I would be living at home, so this was my one chance to experience that sort of thing. The convention… the convention has entered internet lore for how poorly it was managed and how some of the organizers were flat-out shit. I won’t waste time recounting it here – if you’re interested in the whole story, YouTuber Sarah Z has done a far better job than I could explaining what went down that week. The important parts to my story are 1) my friend and I would finally meet and we would on the last day cosplay as Cecil and Carlos from the science fiction podcast Welcome to Night Vale, and 2) the actual Night Vale podcast would be doing a live show on Sunday. It was great getting to meet my friend M, who I’d known for a while now through our mutual interest in Doctor Who. In fact, we’d made a trade of our skills, she knitted the Fourth Doctor’s scarf for me and I sewed a replica of a particular jacket from the Third Doctor. Oh yeah, I used to sew. Anyway. The insanity on the first day, Friday, happened. No, I didn’t give them any money (Please, if you don’t know what I mean, watch the video I linked above, its explanation is the best I’ve seen). The next day was way better, though. I got to meet my fellow Hoosier Doug Jones, the modern Man of a Thousand Faces, who played Abe Sapien in the Hellboy movies. Doug is 6’ 4" and one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. I told him about an essay I’d written for school about the Christian themes of the Hellboy comics, since I knew he’s a Christian like me, and he thought that was awesome.

Me meeting Doug Jones. I’m wearing my Eighth Doctor cosplay. My hair is not actually curly, it was a perm. My hair does not perm well. Then Sunday, the last day of the convention, Welcome to Night Vale was scheduled to do a live show, which cost extra. In the end, they walked because the con refused to pay them. I don’t blame them, honestly, but it was a little disappointing. Until someone had the idea to have a fan panel. They had several Cecil cosplayers and they asked if there was a Carlos, and my friend told me to go up and be on the panel, which she joined too. I have massive anxiety issues and I don’t like being the center of attention or even having multiple people looking at me. I’m always nervous when I have to go in front of people, but I gathered my courage and sat at a big table in front of a lot of people and talked. We answered audience questions in character, which was very fun, especially when an audience member asked me as Carlos how I escaped from the desert otherworld he was at the time trapped in. I had one of my rare moments of quick thinking and said “Have you ever heard of a man called the Doctor?” The assembled geeks, with many Whovians among them, cheered my response. It sounds conceited to say that, but they applauded and I knew I’d made someone– lots of someones– happy. That’s the best feeling in the world. Then we decided to do our own show, and we chose “Old Oak Doors Part A,” which had been released the month prior. It’s a great episode, the beginning of the end for Strexcorp, and in its original form was a live show. Sharing iPhones and tablets to read a transcript online, we recreated it. My friend M played Intern Dana, I playing Carlos. There’s a part where Dana calls Carlos a hero, to which Carlos replies “I’m not a hero. I’m a scientist.” I read that line and the audience went insane. It was my finest moment. Dana’s next line was “Then scientist will always be my word for hero.” The audience exploded again and to this day I marvel at how a short exchange between two characters had such an impact on those listening. This panel and reading are, as much as I can recall, the first time I’d ever really had people applauding something I’d done on my own rather than as part of something else, like plays at church. And what made it even better is that it was something I would never have thought I would do. The convention was a disaster and many things could have gone better, and I still feel sorry we didn’t get to do some of the things we’d planned. But the good things that happened were worth it, to me. I listen to WTNV while doing chores and every year I start from the beginning again, and when I get to “Old Oak Doors,” I’m reminded of the spontaneous reading and my Big Line and how I’d faced a ton of fears that weekend and come out making others laugh. There is, as far as I know, no recording of that panel and reading online. I’ve searched YouTube and googled it but nothing has turned up. If anyone ever comes across it, I’d love to see it again. I’m also looking for pictures that were taken that I know were on my old blog at some point, in the hopes that I got them to my current blog before I deleted the old one. But even if I never find those pictures I have the memories. And a line that reminds me that I may not be a hero, but I still am what I work on being.

(I was originally going to post this on my Dreamwidth, but it was too big. Wow.)

#dashcon #wtnv #doug jones #personal story time #hopefully the readmore works cause this is long #welcome to night vale

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the-final-sif · 4 years

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interview about writing processes

Hey Lady Sif,

thank you for taking time for us and agreeing to answer our interview questions.

Since this was of short notice we decided to change the deadline to June 19.

We hope the time frame suits you.

Here are our questions:

Can you shortly describe us your writing history? How did you start off? How did you come across fanfiction?

Do you have a writing philosophy that helps you overcome challenges in writing?

Could you describe your writing environment? (workplace, prefered writing tools, fandom discourse, discourse with friends)

What inspires you to write and post in and for a fandom? What triggers your headcanons? Does your educational background influence your writing?

In how far does your fandom experience influence your writing?

In how far do you work with others to create fan content? And what ideas do you integrate in your writing?

Are there certain steps you take/decisions you make when/before responding to a post/prompt?

When and why did you decide to host writing events like your fake fics event? What was the purpose and how did you approach the title prompts?

How would you describe the difference between writing alone and writing spontaneously with others (first in creating fan theories and headcanons and second in creating fanfiction)?

Do you think knowing that others read and can comment on your texts subconsciously influences your writing?

What motivated you to create a story where your readers can decide for an ending (name)?

Is there anything else you consider important in your writing process that you would like to tell us?

Thanks again for your time and effort, we are very much looking forward to your answers!

If you’re interested we’ll keep you updated on our findings.

Kind regards, Dana and Helena

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Can you shortly describe us your writing history? How did you start off? How did you come across fanfiction?

I started writing when I was very young! I was a huge reader, and even before I was writing stuff down I was a storyteller. It’s a really important part of my family & how we communicate with each others and others.

My first experience with fanfiction was when I was,, 7 or 8? That sounds about right. I hand wrote a fanfiction called “ShoppingCats” which something between warrior cats and Cats vs Dogs, but also made primarily of my OCs (+ a handful of warriors characters I liked). I still have most of it, it’s sitting in my desk drawer in it’s original binder, since my mother saved it.

I came across fandom spaces / online fanfiction in 2012 with fanfiction.net, and published my first fanfiction in 2013 (under Rosae-Sif on fanfiction.net). I’ve taken breaks as my interests changed & life got chaotic, but I’ve always enjoyed retelling stories that I hear and changing them to suit me more / explore new themes, so I’ve stuck with it after all this time.

Do you have a writing philosophy that helps you overcome challenges in writing?

Yes! I write for myself above all else. It’s fun to write stuff for other people sometimes, and I like getting feedback and what not, but I never let that be the focus of my writing. I always try to write what I want to be reading, so when I go back and reread what I’ve written, more often than not I find I’ve produced something that makes me happy, and that helps keep me going when a lot of other things couldn’t.

Could you describe your writing environment? (workplace, prefered writing tools, fandom discourse, discourse with friends)

Uhhh, I don’t really have any one set thing. I mostly write on my laptop, sometimes I use a notebook + pen. I have 5$ fountain pen that I got that I really love when I have writer’s block.

I think the most consistent “workplace” for me is actually discord/my friends. Almost all of my AUs/fics/ideas start as me storytelling (either typing things out or out loud) to someone else. That’s where the spark comes from, and then that slowly is refined through several iterations until I have something I like.

I really like taking long walks with headphones & nobody else around. That’s when a lot of the very early forms of my favorite ideas come to me. It’s a key part of my writing process the few times I get stuck on stuff too. I just go walk till I figure it out.

I don’t really get involved in discourse much. I like debating people, but I try to stay away from destructive stuff and just have my own fun corner where I create things. I’m in fandom for fun, and I refuse to let me experience be tainted by people who try to turn it into Discourse Central.

What inspires you to write and post in and for a fandom? What triggers your headcanons? Does your educational background influence your writing?

As I mentioned before, I write and post primarily for myself! I have a lot of ideas in my head all the time, and things I want to see, so I create those things and then put them here. It’s fun when other people interact with me + add onto my ideas + create things in response!

My headcanons are usually just kinda,,,, coming out of my brain. I think it’s just how I am. I have a question or a thought and I start looking into it and before I know it, a whole new thing has come out of it.

I think my family actually influenced a lot of my writing style more than anything else. I mean, I was homeschooled for a long time, and my parents were very encouraging of whatever weird projects I was creating (my dad once even let me cut down and drag actual brambles into the basement to create a warriors style fort). I was allowed to dress however I wanted (during high school I worn nothing but PJ pants b/c they were most comfy for me, and also I had/have several capes that I would rotate through), I was allowed to dye my hair (still do! it’s current a side shave in red + purple + blue!), and I was encouraged to just,,, be weird and happy. I think that shows in how I write. I pursue the ideas I want to go after, I indulge myself, I commit to thinks and I focus more on what I want to write rather than what I feel I should write.

That being said, a lot of science nerding that comes out in my writing is def from my educational background. I’ve got a bachelors and stuff. I did take some writing classes, but to be honest, I think my fanfiction experience influenced those a lot more than they influenced my fanfiction (years and years of writing constantly and quickly paid off in college where I would BS papers the night before and get top marks on it).

In how far does your fandom experience influence your writing?

Hmm, I don’t think it does that much? I mean, for the BNHA fandom in particular, I think that seeing all the cool content + ideas other people create really keeps my brain chugging along and creating new things, and god, having seen people make fanart and fanfiction for my stories has been one of the best feelings I’ve ever experienced, but I don’t think that’s really changed how I’m writing.

At my core, I’m still doing the same thing my 8 year old self was doing with her pencil and that binder full of paper. I take the strange thoughts out of my head, and I follow them onto the paper until I create something that makes me happy.

I’ve had some negative experiences of course. I mean, everyone does. They’ve all been fairly minor, mostly just people trying to tell me I’m wrong about stuff that’s either in an AU that’s already not supposed to be canon, or stuff I’m right about. Most of the time it’s just annoying. Sometimes it’s concerning. I ignore or delete the annoying stuff, I don’t want to give it any of my time or attention.

The concerning stuff I try to reply to. It’s been rare, but sometimes I get comments on certain fics trying to tell me what’s being depicted in my fic isn’t abusive when it absolutely is. I try to correct that and link to resources when I do get that. I usually don’t get a reply, but a few times I’ve had people realize that what they thought was normal was actually abusive behavior. I’m happy that I’m able to help people come to that realization.

In how far do you work with others to create fan content? And what ideas do you integrate in your writing?

Hmmm, I’ll be honest, I’m not quite sure how to answer this one. I don’t exactly work with others when creating my fan content? All of my writing (save one RP collab homestuck fic from ages ago) is done by me exclusively, and most my ideas are also mostly from my own brain. Although I will say one exception to that is @windschildfanfictionwriter whose an amazing bnha writer I chat with fairly frequently when I need help figuring something out.

It’s less of “working” with people, and more discussing things/ideas, and being excited about stuff. Sometimes literally all I need is someone to be my rubber duck while I talk about an idea for 2-3 hours to get it solidified. People in my discord server often help me by betaing (editing/reviewing) my wips. My adhd means I often make weird mistakes, and they’re wonderful at helping me catch that.

As for ideas I pull into my writing, it’s hard to pick out specific ones. I think I kinda create + absorb + integrate lots of stuff at once. A lot of the times my ideas don’t come from things other authors write, but instead come from things other authors didn’t write. When I see an thought/idea/thread in a story that isn’t followed up on, or isn’t handled how I think it should be handled, that often inspires me to either use a similar base concept or similar thought but in the way I wish it had been done.

Are there certain steps you take/decisions you make when/before responding to a post/prompt?

Not really? I tend to just go with whatever comes to me or what I already had prepared. I’m rather impulsive, so unless it’s a delicate subject matter, I roll with whatever’s going on.

I do always make myself take a step back before responding to stuff that annoys me/any sort of anon hate. I have to remind myself it’s not worth the effort and I should focus on positive/fun stuff. I’ll admit though, I have a very combative nature that can get the better of me sometimes. I’ve gotten better at that though! Hooray for proper adhd medication to help prevent destructive stimulus seeking behavior and therapy! Although I do still like to debate stuff for fun, I just don’t let myself get hostile about it.

When and why did you decide to host writing events like your fake fics event? What was the purpose and how did you approach the title prompts?

Oh, I just saw the post and thought it looked fun so I reblogged it. Stuff like that is mostly an impulse more than anything else.

I just kinda went with the flow for the titles. God, I got so many of those, I still have a lot of them sitting in my inbox, most of which I probably won’t ever post. For the ones I did do though, I picked ones that sounded like fic titles I would actually use, and then asked myself what sort of story I would use that title for. Then I just kinda wrote whatever came to me.

How would you describe the difference between writing alone and writing spontaneously with others (first in creating fan theories and headcanons and second in creating fanfiction)?

Hmmm. This one is also a bit hard. It’s rare I truly “write alone”, most of my stories start as a form of oral storytelling and then are adapted to “proper” writing. Most of my theories/headcanons start the same way.

You’ll notice a lot of my posts start with “Also” “Okay” or “I’ve been thinking” or “You know”. When I’m writing my headcanon/theory posts, it’s all written very conversationally because I’m still following my family’s storytelling in a way. It’s a public post, but I’m not just making statements to a void. I’m still talking to people, addressing them, leading them through stuff. It’s just how I communicate on a very fundamental leave.

I’m still writing for myself, I’m creating for myself, but I’m doing it with others. I’m telling a story constantly, and sometimes I’m telling that story to myself, but I’m still telling it to someone.

I think you can read that in my fics, with the perspective I tend to use. I use limited third person POV, but when I’m writing, I try to write it how the character I’m writing from the POV of would tell their own story. I’m not just describing what’s happening, I’m letting this character tell their story through their own voice, to others, to me. It’s a core part of my writing, and that makes it hard to say that it was ever really written alone.

Do you think knowing that others read and can comment on your texts subconsciously influences your writing?

I mean, it’d be impossible for it not to. But I don’t think it influences me that much. I’m still writing for myself most of the time, and I hold onto my bullshit tightly. I don’t change my writing based on what I think other people want to see from me.

That being said, it’s still something I think about. It’s more of a conscious choice, but specifically regarding my stories that have abuse in them, I try to connect in elements of realism and common underrepresented traits/habits of abuse (which I do try to check via research when I can) and ensure that they are then called out as what they are. I’ve gotten a number of comments/asks/discord messages from people telling me that my works helped them realize they were in a crappy situation / understand what they were going through, and that’s something that’s important for me.

I think The Green Eyed Monster is an example of that, where I explore platonic stalking/obsession/pressuring. It’s something I don’t see taken seriously often enough, so I wanted to frame it in a serious but realistic light and make it clear that what was happening was wrong and harmful. I wanted to explore this concept, but I purposefully did it in a way that I hoped would help others who might’ve dealt with it on some level understand it for what it was, and I think it really shows. In the comments of that fic, there’s a lot of very personal responses/stories from people who went through similar experiences. I think that’s important, so it’s something I try to do when I can.

The other thing is I do 100% put references/lines in certain stories with an evil grin on my face knowing that a certain handful of my commenters are going to rip their hair out over it, either because they have no idea what I mean by it, or they know exactly what I mean by it. But hey, I’m a hurt/comfort writer at heart, so you can hardly blame me.

What motivated you to create a story where your readers can decide for an ending (name)?

Oh, uh, “Seven Year Old Katsuki Has The Ability To Kill A Grown Man And No Concept Of Legality”.

I actually can’t remember the exact inspiration for this one? I think I saw uhhh, Markiplier, playing a text adventure game, and I got curious about creating something similar.

I considered using a platform meant for text based games, but true to my family’s long history of needlessly complicating things and creating things where they aren’t meant to be created out of some mix of spite and creative hubris, I decided I wanted to make it on A03 instead. I looked up a style formatting guide, and went to work.

That whole project took like 1-2 months, around school work and everything else. It was created entirely using links that sent you to the next page. That’s it. That’s the only ‘code’ functionality I had to work with. So I made a whole paper map of the routes, separating them out into “steps” and then created unique text blocks for each step based on prior choices. I used a secret point system for one of the main routes, and ended up with 97 unique steps, and 155 different text blocks/variations.

Fun project. A03 was having some trouble/going down right after I released it, and to this day, certain members of the discord server still blame me for that as I was forcing the website into bullshit it was not meant to contain.

Is there anything else you consider important in your writing process that you would like to tell us?

Nothing I can think of off the top of my head. Other than maybe I have an African Gray named Cecil, and sometimes when I’m not ready to share an idea with humans, I’ll talk it out with him first. He’s an excellent listener sometimes, and by that I mean he’s usually ignoring me or I’m giving him scratches and he’s not paying my rambling any mind.

Though sometimes I get lucky and when I finish up a point and ask for his opinion, he’ll just look at me for a moment and say “I love you.” He does it because I’ll always cave and give him treats since I’m weak for him, but it still makes me smile.

#sif speaks #sif answers #my writing #long post #if there's anything else #just let me know!#submission

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nytech · 4 years

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The art of DOING, with serial entrepreneur Georgie-Ann Getton-McKoy

Learn about getting started as an entrepreneur, hosting a successful crowdfunding campaign, and believing in your dreams with Georgie-Ann Getton-McKoy, Founder of GSD Solutions.

Georgie is an execution strategist, award-winning serial entrepreneur, community builder, speaker, author, podcast host, and Diversity in Tech Enthusiast. Georgie founded multiple ventures including GSD Solutions and GSD With Georgie to help businesses produce their own online events. She also launched the very first Black Podcasting Awards after a successful crowdfunding campaign in 2020, and wrote a book called The Art of Getting Sh*t Done, where she shares her experience and secrets on productivity and entrepreneurship. We’re proud to count Georgie as a member of the NY Tech Alliance Community — she’s been a dedicated member and brilliantly hosted our virtual Celebration of Black Women Founders.

What’s your daily routine?

I usually get up around 7am. First thing is to get myself situated, shower, brush my teeth. Then if the weather allows it, I will take a morning walk, and if it’s not the best weather outside I just read and meditate at home. After that, I make breakfast and wake up the kids to get ready for school and the day. After breakfast, I start my day with my first call at 9am a daily stand-up. Then I create the task list for the day and start to tackle that list while taking breaks to do homeschooling and interact with the kids.

Combining parenthood and entrepreneurship can be challenging. How do you manage your family and your company?

Having a clear schedule is the best way to handle all things family and kids because at any moment there is so much going on. With a clear schedule, I can then build the flexibility I need, swap out things when needed and just make sure any fires that pop up personal or professional I have the mental space to tackle. I also have many standard operating processes in both my house and my company so if t I am not available, someone else is and can hop in.

“I have many standard operating processes in both my house and my company.”

What’s the advice you would give to an aspiring entrepreneur?

Stay persistent. Life is all about curveballs. The sooner you accept that “the game is rigged and fair” doesn’t exist, the sooner you gain the mental freedom to just DO, without worrying about if you’re doing it wrong or right.

What’s your biggest failure as an entrepreneur?

My biggest failure was being fearful of my finances. This was a huge failure for me because my personal financial insecurities trickled into my business and because of that some business ventures I have had failed. I was afraid to charge my worth or even charge at all. Once I started tackling this fear I because more successful overall.

I was afraid to charge my worth or even charge at all.

And your biggest win?

I would say one of my biggest wins was getting into the CUNY startups accelerator when I was in college. It gave me a huge sense of confidence in my work as an entrepreneur. Then when I made it to the Top 4 it was clear that I had all this untapped potential inside me that I needed to embrace.

A word on your book “The Art of Getting Sh*t Done”— How do you go from being a dreamer to a doer?

You go from being a dreamer to being a doer by starting. Life is a journey and so is everything in life including entrepreneurship. You will feel overwhelmed at times, and think you don’t have everything you want to start or continue that journey. This could be true, but you will always have everything that you need within you!

Just start, here, today, now with what you have and EVERYTHING else will fall into you path.

You raised more than $9,000 to fund the Black Podcasting Awards. What was your strategy and in other words, the key to success for someone wanting to start a crowdfunding campaign?

The key to the success of that campaign was tapping into my network and sharing what I was doing. I did a lot of cold tweeting, random live streams, texting, emailing, and posting on social media. When we were less than 48 hours from the deadline and below half of our goal I told myself that we would not only meet, but exceed our goal. Then I pulled out every card I had and made it happen. Tap into your network! Share your work! Be your biggest champion.

When we were less than 48 hours from the deadline and below half of our goal I told myself that we would not only meet, but exceed our goal.

You’ve been a wedding officiant for 5 years. Tell us more about that!

Well, I am a nerd! I love learning and doing new things. When I became a wedding officiant I was on a major “Side Hustle” journey. I loved the flexibility that being an entrepreneur offered but I was also aware that I had bills and a child to take care of so I needed to make money. I got certified so it could be an income stream and also so that I could go to more weddings. At the time of getting certified I had only been to one or two weddings in my entire life. What’s the best way to get invited to a wedding? By being a vendor! Being a wedding officiant satisfied a professional and personal need all at once. Since getting certified I have helped four couples say “I Do”.

“I loved the flexibility that being an entrepreneur offered but I was also aware that I had bills and a child to take care of.”

What’s your number one rule for a successful online event?

Start from the goal and work your way backward! The golden rule to community engagement around your brand? Be yourself. When I try to get all fancy with the content people don’t really resonate with it. I get the most engagement when I remain my crazy, doing-the-most self.

Tell me about your thoughts on diversity in tech.

Diversity in tech is essential. At least as a concept. When it is put into action, often time companies miss the mark on what needs to be done to achieve this goal. The systematic issues that come from the government, constitution, and institutions built many years ago consistently leave diversity initiatives gasping for air. The only time true diversity will be achieved is when companies and their leaders look at it as a staple in business success from day one, not as an afterthought to not get attacked by the public.

The systematic issues that come from the government, constitution, and institutions built many years ago consistently leave diversity initiatives gasping for air.

What steps can tech companies take to be more diverse and inclusive?

They can start by taking a look within, “Do we have unconscious biases?”. Then from there, they can begin to look at their team and goals and see if the picture that they see reflects their short and long-term goals as a company. There are many, many, many diverse team members and founders out there. Diversity in race, ethnicity, gender, orientation, geographic location, education level, age, and the list goes on and on. But before a company can embrace that diversity and become inclusive they have to take a look at their own flaws as to why have they never seen this before? Why did they not think of this before? Then and only then will companies become diverse and inclusive in an authentic way.

Connect with Georgie-Ann on LinkedIn, and head to our website to browse our upcoming events and meet more empowering founders.

#tech #entreprenuership #productivity #crowdfunding #startup #nytech #nytm

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duggardata · 4 years

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All The Data: Jessa + Ben

The Couple—

Jessa Lauren (Duggar) Seewald (b. November 4, 1992)

Parents Jim Bob + Michelle Duggar

Child # 5 of 19

Hometown Tontitown, AR

Early Education Homeschool (Switched–On Schoolhouse, ATI/IBLP)

Higher Education [ None Apparent ]

Occupation Stay–at–Home Wife / Mother (2014—)

Benjamin Michael Seewald (b. May 19, 1995)

Parents Michael + Guinneve Seewald

Child # 1 of 7

Hometown Hot Springs, AR (19 Kids & Counting (4–1–14), “A Duggar Says Yes.”)

Early Education Homeschool (Until 2013)

Higher Education Moody Bible Institute (Online; 2016—), A.A. / A.S. in Political Science (2015), National Park Community College (Hot Springs, AR)

Occupation Student, Moody Bible Institute (Online; 2016—), Property Maintenance (2014—?) (Note—Ben went to work maintaining Duggar–owned properties in 2014, while courting Jessa. He might still work for Jim Bob. See 19 Kids & Counting (9–16–14), “Duggar Dirty Jobs.”)

... Previous Windshield Repair Business (c. 2014) (19 Kids & Counting (4–1–14), “A Duggar Says Yes.”); “Country Club Golf Course” (c. 2013)

The Relationship—

First Meeting c. April 14 or 21, 2013

Location Cross Church—Springdale; Springdale, AR

Timing Jessa + Ben met on a Sunday at the Duggars’ church. Just a “few days” later, the Seewalds joined the Duggars at a conference out–of–town, probably the Annual ATI/IBLP Homeschool Conference (in Big Sandy, TX). That year, the Big Sandy Conference was held on April 22–26. Since Ben said he met Jessa on a Sunday “a few days” before, I’m thinking they met Sunday, April 14, 2013 or Sunday, April 21, 2013.

Pre–Courtship c. May 5 or 12, 2013

Timing First Meeting Date + 3 Weeks

Details Per Jessa, the Seewald Family attended the Duggars’ church again exactly 3 Weeks Later. (In the interim, Ben had spoken to J.B. at the conference, got his phone number, and began talking to him.) The Duggars invited the Seewalds over for supper, which gave Jessa + Ben the opportunity to talk more. From then on, Ben visited Tontitown every month, and used his visits to get to know Jessa better. No doubt about it... That’s a pre–courtship.

Courtship September 9, 2013 (Monday)

Location Duggar Compound (J.B.’s Office); Tontiown, AR

Details For their painfully awkward ‘courtposal,’ Jessa, Ben, Michelle, and Jim Bob all crammed into J.B.’s Office. Ben asked Jessa to start a courtship, she agreed, then they side–hugged. (Full Video) Apparently, they went on their first date 2 Days Later.

Announced September 16, 2013 by People (+7 Days)

Featured On 19 Kids & Counting (4–1–14), “A Duggar Says Yes”

Engagement August 14, 2014 (Thursday)

Location Thorncrown Chapel; Eureka Springs, AR

Details Ben orchestrated an elaborate scavenger hunt that led Jessa through a slew of activities, finally ending at the Thorncrown Chapel—a beautiful glass chapel in the woods—where she found Ben waiting. He got down on one knee and proposed.

Announced August 15, 2014 in People (+1 Day)

Featured On 19 Kids & Counting (11–4–14), “Jessa’s Engagement”

Marriage November 1, 2014, 1:00 PM (Saturday)

Location First Baptist Church; Bentonville, AR

Officiant Pastor Mike Schadt (SOS Ministries)

MOH Jinger Duggar (Jessa’s Sister)

Best Man Dylan McMahan (Ben’s Friend)

Announced November 1, 2014 in People (Exclusive; Same Day)

Featured On 19 Kids & Counting (3–31–15), “Jessa’s Wedding”

Honeymoon Paris, France; Rome and Venice, Italy (See 19 Kids & Counting (4–21–15), “European Honeymoon.”)

The Quiver—

Spurgeon Elliot Seewald (b. November 5, 2015)

Pregnancy Announced April 21, 2015 in People (Exclusive; 86 Days / 12 Weeks, 2 Days Along)

Due Date November 1, 2015 (Jessa + Ben’s 1st Anniversary)

Birthdate & Time November 5, 2015, 6:24 PM (4 Days Late)

Birthplace Seewald Home (Yellow / Brick Starter House); Fayetteville, AR

Birthweight & Length 9 Pounds, 11 Ounces; 21.25 Inches

Birth Announced November 5, 2015 by Jessica Seewald (Same Day). Very shortly after the birth, Jessica wrote on Instagram: “I’m an auntie!” This appears to have been posted without the new parents’ consent and, due to the blue font, it revealed not just the birth, but also the sex. Within hours of Jessica’s post, Jessa + Ben “confirmed” the news to People.

Sex Revealed w/ Birth Announcement

Name Revealed November 11, 2015 by TLC (+5 Days)

Birth Details Spurgeon was born at the Seewald Home after a lengthy labor lasting 27ish Hours or ~48 Hours, depending on who you ask. An emergency arose immediately after the birth, when Jessa hemorrhaged and had to be taken to the hospital by ambulance. She recovered after receiving a blood transfusion.

Featured On Counting On (12–27–15), “Counting One More”

Henry Wilberforce Seewald (b. February 6, 2017)

Pregnancy Announced August 23, 2016 in People (Exclusive; 117 Days / 16 Weeks, 5 Days Along)

Due Date February 2, 2017

Birthdate & Time February 6, 2017, 4:26 AM (4 Days Late)

Birthplace Seewald Home (Yellow / Brick Starter House); Fayetteville, AR (See Counting On (2–26–17), “A New Baby.”)

Birthweight & Length 8 Pounds, 11 Ounces; 21.75 Inches

Birth Announced February 6, 2017 in People (Exclusive; Same Day)

Sex Revealed w/ Birth Announcement

Name Revealed February 13, 2017 by TLC (+7 Days)

Birth Details Jessa gave birth to Henry at the Seewald Home after 4.5 Hours of labor. There were no complications. (See Counting On (2–26–17), “A New Baby.”)

Featured On Counting On (2–26–17), “A New Baby”

Ivy Jane Seewald (b. May 26, 2019)

Pregnancy Announced January 9, 2019 in People (Exclusive; 133 Days / Exactly 19 Weeks Along)

Due Date June 5, 2019

Birthdate & Time May 26, 2019, 5:57 PM (10 Days Early)

Birthplace Seewald Home (Yellow / Brick Starter House); Fayetteville, AR. Jessa claims that she’d planned a midwife–assisted hospital birth, but had to go with a home birth because that midwife was out of town.

Birthweight & Length 7 Pounds, 14 Ounces; 20.5 Inches

Birth Announced May 28, 2019 in Us Weekly (Exclusive; +2 Days)

Sex & Name Revealed w/ Birth Announcement

Birth Details Like her brothers, Ivy was born at the Seewalds’ Home. Jessa’s labor lasted ~3 Hours. After delivery, Jessa hemorrhaged, just like she did with Spurgeon, and was taken to a hospital by ambulance. She received Pitocin to control bleeding, but no blood transfusion.

Featured On Counting On (12–10–19), “A Surprise Delivery”

That’s “All The Data” for Jessa + Ben, for Now!

#all the data #jessa and ben

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ephemeral-afterlight · 5 years

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More about Logan + his students?

sure! there's not a lot to say, since most of the work done is online, but,,,

logan holds both public classes and private tutoring, and will teach kids one-on-one both online and in person. he covers pretty much everything you can think of, and he's really, really good at his job. he knows how to easily adapt to each student's needs and pacing, and he doesn't treat his students as lesser than him, which is why he has such a high success rate.

in the beginning, he always tells his students to set a goal for themselves that they want to reach by the end of their class or tutoring, and logan has only had a few students out of the hundreds he's taught that haven't been able to reach that goal.

currently, he has a couple online courses in session, and he's personally tutoring five people who paid the extra fee for one-on-one teaching. three of those are online, and the other two he goes to in person.

one of the online people is a kid in middle school who was forced to do it by their parents. they're always grumpy, sarcastic, and fights back against logan every single moment the two of them are in a call, but by the time it's time for the kid to leave for soccer practice, they're mellowed out and cracking jokes. they don't like the tutoring, but they begrudgingly listen to what logan says, and does their work even though they complain the whole time. they'd never admit how happy it makes them when logan compliments their progress and tells them he's proud of them, but logan probably knows that anyway.

another online student is a college student who just wanted some extra help in one of her english courses. she doesn't talk much, just talks about the subject at hand in a neutral, focused way, which logan appreciates. she's simple to teach, and their sessions are concise and consistent. there's not much to say about her, to be honest.

the last online student is a kid who used to go to public school but is now homeschooled. he'd be just going into high school if he still went. he was in the "gifted" children's class, and has a lot of stress put upon him by overbearing parents to do well despite not going to public school anymore. he takes a pretty normal roster of typical school subjects, along with a french course he takes on logan's public site. the kid's witty, always stressed out, and a quick learner, and the calls with him are always enjoyable.

one of the two in-person people logan teaches is an autistic kid who wasn't allowed to go to public school because of their extremely sheltering parents, and although they've admitted before that they don't think they'd like it much anyway, it makes them feel really alone when their parents tell them that they "can't have friends" or that people wouldn't like them simply because they're autistic. logan feels Very Deeply for this kid, and can sort of relate, so he tries to make his visits to their house as fun and interactive as possible. along with the lessons, he also acts as a bit of a confidant for the kid, who absolutely adores logan. when the kid first tells logan that he's their best friend ("well, i mean, of course you are, since you're my only friend, but still,"), logan has to turn and hide his misty eyes and bright grin from them.

the last kid, and the other one he sees in person, is a girl who's still in elementary school, but is extremely smart. she's a music prodigy along with her high intelligence, and she is the biggest 'meme' logan has ever met. she may be young, but she speaks like someone who has been alive for years, has seen all the sights she could see, and now lives out a healthy life being a little shithead and making her life more entertaining by confusing everyone around her. she is the weirdest 9-year-old logan has ever had the absolute pleasure of talking to and observing.

other than that, there is one other person logan sees. he goes to his house every other saturday, spends a few hours teaching him. but this guy isn't a kid, he's a father, and he only reached out to logan because his daughter made him do it. logan is there to teach him about the lgbtq+ community, the history, and the struggles they've had to endure. since his daughter came out as trans, he didn't react well to it, and hurt her by saying some pretty mean things. instead of getting angry, she thought about his side, that he's lashing out because he doesn't understand. she thought that learning about the community might help him, so logan comes to do just that. at first he's standoffish, rude, and doesn't really listen to what logan says. over time, he stops scowling every time logan knocks on the door. he looks forward to the class, offers snacks for the day, asks questions and even takes notes. by the time two months have passed, he's stopped calling his daughter a "he", and the first time he refers to her as a she around her, the teary hug she barrels into him to give makes even logan smile. logan wishes he could've had that kind of relationship with his parents, but he'll have to settle with fostering that kind of acceptance in others.

(probably no taglist for this one, sorry;;;)

#asks #sharp-as-hyalus #ts logan #logan sanders #the codebreaker #ts sides #sanders sides #ts sides superhero au #tw ableism #bad autism parenting #tw transphobia #tw cursing

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janus-manus · 5 years

Text

High School AU For A Sec

(personally, I wouldn’t read this if you’re interested in “A Place For Me”, it takes away a lot of information that you learn in the story)

Somewhere in Central Pennsylvania, there is a small town called Marshfield, which lies adjacent to the Marcia River. There is one high school, Marshfield High School.

ROMAN

Roman was always the “good” twin, he progressed quickly with his art skills, he was devoted to football, and to theater. He was steadfast and loyal, even at a young age. His parents always pushed him to new heights. He had to get a 4.0 to get into the best college, he always had to get the best role in a play, and he had to never miss a football practice.

He puts up a conceited, vain and confident mask. He plays the “hero” in everyday life. He doesn’t have many true friends, he never had time for them. He never wanted to go to college, and yet he spends hours making sure he can. He doesn’t even like football, but he’s been training for it his whole life. Theater is the one thing in his life that he truly has passion for. He does the school musical, as well as small community plays, and has no doubts that he wants to be a stage actor when he graduates high school.

REMUS

Remus is Roman’s older brother by seven minutes, and the fact he brings it up at every meal drives Roman up the wall. Other than age, Remus has nothing to match for Roman. From a young age, Roman was the favorite, but while he was drawing portraits of the family and training to be a football player, Remus was up in his room creating.

He had a knack for creation, just like his brother, and a passion for theater and art. His self expression was very different, however. He created ridiculous caricatures, gruesome art, and dark plays. Furthermore, he never created for anyone but himself, his creations were self-indulgent.

Because of the obvious favoritism, Remus grew up feeling like no one would ever appreciate his work. He never worried about that, though. He was happy creating for himself. And no matter what, his brother stuck by him. Remus made costumes like you wouldn’t believe, and he had a small secret passion for science and math, which were the only subjects he never failed in. He didn’t get bad grades, As and Bs in middle school, and Bs and Cs in high school but in the eyes of his parents, he was a failure.

He doesn’t want to college, to spite his parents, but also, kind of, he wants to go to college and get a PhD for the same reason. He knows what he would do, he would become an engineer, something that has fascinated him his whole life.

LOGAN

Logan was precise and precocious, never wasting a word. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, you had better listen. He never strove for good grades, because he realized that was bullshit. He still managed As and Bs, even in high school. He was a scholar at heart, spending hours in the school library doing research, very rarely for school. He can’t wait to graduate high school so he can learn the things he wants to learn.

Logan never had many friends growing up. He was an only child. He spent his time lost in books and research, he thought friends were “unnecessary for success”. He wants to major in Astrology and minor in Neuroscience. He also has a strong interest in Physics.

PATTON

Patton had nine siblings growing up, but none of them were his friends. He was shy and trepidatious about making friends. That is, until he met Lily.

His family lived in a house far out of the heat of the town. It was an hour just to get to school each day. On the front side of their house, there was a lonely road, on the other, forest. Patton and his siblings spent hours in the forest. They were taught how to hunt and gather, how to get clean water. The forest was an escape from the busy household Patton lived in.

One day, while he was lying by a babbling brook as a five year old, he spotted a deer. She was calm and graceful, and behind he trailed a smaller version, weak and young. Patton didn’t move, so as not to scare the deer away, but, much to his surprise, the mother walked towards him, the baby not far behind. Patton knew to be cautious of animals, but when she nudged him with a soft look, he was put under a spell.

He spent all day with the doe and her child. She showed no inhibitions around him, even treating him as her own child sometimes. But that was just the first animal. He name the baby, a little girl, Lily, and spent hours in the woods with the two.

Patton was homeschooled, as well as a few of his siblings, because transporting ten kids to school every morning wasn’t really an options. When they hit highschool, that would change.

Patton had dozens of friends in the forest, that would follow him around. He would talk to them, and although they never said anything, somehow he carried conversations for hours. He was truly a Disney princess.

As he got older, he developed his voice. He has an incredible singing voice, and because a bit of an urban legend as his marched through the woods, deer, bunnies, crows and many more animals walking in line as he belted out heart-wrenching ballads.

By the time he was ten, he wrote music nearly every minute of his being. He was like a siren, the locals always said. Many people complimented his voice, but he was too shy to thank them.

On the first day of high school, he got in trouble for carrying a chipmunk in his bag, which, in all fairness, he didn’t know was there.

(I meant for a non-magical au, but Patton is sort of unclear on that, m‘kay?)

VIRGIL

Virgil lives at home with his dad, all his other siblings are older and have moved out. His mother died when he was young, and his entire family became very withdrawn. He has a feeling there’s something his father and siblings won’t tell him, but there isn’t enough of a relationship to ask.

His father really, really tries to help Virgil, and be a good father, but depression and anxiety have gotten in his way. He wanted to send Virgil to live with his sister, Virgil’s aunt, but immediately changed his mind when Virgil came out as a trans guy, knowing there weren’t any family members he could trust to be kind of Virgil.

Virgil attended online school for a good part of his schooling, as in school, he was constantly bullied and shamed, for being trans, for being feminine, for being emo and dyeing his hair, so he was taken home. He and his father decided that he was going to try public school again for high school.

He’s is shy and anxious, but he wants to get some experience with other people before he hurtles himself into the world at eighteen.

DEE

At a young age, Dee was taken from his parents after some serious offenses were pulled by them. He doesn’t know much about what happened, except that something happened to his brother, and then he could never see his parents again. He was quickly tossed into the foster care system (I don’t know anything about foster care so like, excuse me) and ended up in Rivers End. In middle school, he met a girl name Sam.

They quickly became friends, and she became his first girlfriend. They dated for awhile before Dee came out as gay, and that ended up. Neither of them were too broken up about it, and they stayed close friends. More than that, Dee spent more time at her house than he did in his foster home. As the months and years went by, he realized his family was right in front of him: Sam and her family.

It was an easy choice for the family and Dee, and by the time he was going into ninth grade they began the process of adopting him. Dee’s foster family was fine with this, they didn’t care much about him anyway, only that he ended up in a good place.

However, when confronted with a judge, Sam’s dad mentioned a small detail: Sam and Dee use to date. A long time had past, and the idea of dating to them now was absurd. Dee was gay, and they thought of each other as siblings, but the judge wasn’t convinced.

Dee has always been punk, but he pretty much went off the walls anarchist when this happened, and he probably has graffitied “fuck the foster care system” somewhere.

#ts sides #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #high school au

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igottoomuchwriting · 5 years

Text

Sincerely Me (Chapter 4)

Part 1/Previous Chapter/Next Part

Evan didn’t want to get up.

After Jared had left yesterday, Evan had a panic attack that lasted for four hours. He was freaking out because if Jared could tell that he likes Connor, does that mean that Connor could tell? If Connor could tell why hasn’t he stopped being friends with Evan? Since when did Evan start liking boys? Was it weird that he had a crush on Zoe and then on Connor?

His Mom had come home right at the end of his panic attack. She was so worried, asking what had happen, that he was doing so well, that it was okay, but it wasn’t.

Evan finally makes a friend who treats him like a person, who actually listens to him, who actually wants to be around him and talk to him and get to know him, and then he has to go and ruin it with a stupid crush.

On top of that, he hasn’t told his Mom about Connor at all. He can’t exactly tell her that he had this friend, got a crush on him—oh yeah by the way I’m bi mom have fun with that—and now he has to work on not ruining that and he has to do scholarship essays so that the can go to a college he doesn’t want to go to and worry about raising funds for a senior party that will set off his anxiety by being around people who don’t remember his name half of the time and it’s starting to feel like the summer—

No. He can’t go back to the summer. She will ask what happen during the summer, what was he feeling during the summer. The truth is hard to believe. She won’t believe that he was fine, he was just stressed, he wasn’t hanging out with Jared because they were busy. She wouldn’t believe that he stopped writing letters because he felt better in nature, that climbing the tree was a impulse decision. A silly mistake.

Sometimes he doesn’t believe the truth.

So here he was, Thursday morning, staring at his wall. He got about an hour of sleep and woke up two hours before his alarm. There was no way that he would be able to handle being around Connor or anyone at the school without having an anxiety attack. Everyone gets so loud and he’s already worrying about everything with Connor.

Maybe his Mom would let him stay home today.

There was a soft knock on his door.

“Evan, sweetie?” he heard his Mom call. “The bus will be here soon. Are you doing okay?”

“I’m not feeling well,” he immediately answered. He looked over at his Mom’s concerned face. Hopefully she’ll believe him.

“Are you sick?” She sat down by his legs, placing a gentle touch.

“In a way,” he mumbled. Sometimes it was hard to lie to his Mom—other times, it was super easy.

She placed the back of her hand against his forehead. She repeated the motion around his face and on his neck and it took all of Evan’s power to not move away. He wasn’t a big fan of her touching his face, or people in general.

“You don’t have a fever.”

“Can I just not go to school?” he begged.

“Evan, sweetie, I know it’s hard, but you need to go.” She gave him a sad smile as she brushed his hair out of his face. He hated that look. “If you miss a day of school, then you’ll be stressed about the homework you missed plus the homework that you had from yesterday. I don’t want you working yourself into a panic attack.”

Too late, he thought to himself. He pursed his lips in disappointment. That was a big thing with his Mom. Evan needed to stay on top of things. Sometimes he was tempted to send her posts he found online about letting your kids have mental health days, but he felt that would cause a fight.

He can’t remember the last time that they had a fight.

“Okay,” he mumbled. “I’ll go to school.”

“That’s my boy!” she cheered. Evan gave her a small smile. She stood up from the bed to let him sit up properly and he followed her up. “I know it’s hard, but I believe that you will be able to make it through!”

“Okay.” She placed a kiss on the top of his head before heading towards his bedroom door.

“Make sure that you are ready by the time the bus is here!” Evan watched the door close behind her with a heavy heart.

---

The bus ride to school did nothing to help calm his anxiety. Today was the day that the Freshmen at the school decided that they were going to be obnoxiously loud—more so than usual—as well as throw things around, successfully pissing off the bus driver. Evan was close to having a panic attack after the bus driver yelled at them. To top it all off, he hasn’t gotten a single text from Connor.

Not usually a big deal, but after his conversation with Jared, every bit of information involving Connor was enough to set him off.

Maybe he could talk to Connor. He could ask if Jared talked to him, and if Connor does know then he would tell him. If Jared didn’t tell him then he would be able to play it off as Jared just being a dick again. It may make Connor hate him more, but it wasn’t like they were going to rebuilding the relationship any time soon.

As he stepped off the bus he made up his mind. He would talk to Connor and find out the easy way if Jared talked to him.

As Evan entered the school, he was a little more alert than usual. He wanted to make sure that he didn’t miss Connor while walking around. It was not Connor that he found, though. He ended up walking behind the one and only Jared Kleinman.

He held his breath. He hasn’t talk to Jared since he came over and he is honestly starting to dread it. Even though Evan already had a feeling that he was bisexual and had a small crush on Connor, Jared was never the best at calmly bringing things up and helping people realize things on their own terms. It’s just a flaw that he has.

He could be going to talk to Connor now. If he went up to Connor than Evan would know. Evan would know and he could leave and cut off communication with Connor before Connor even has time to think about what is happening. He could tell his mom he needs to be homeschooled, the bullying is getting bad. She would be disappointed, upset that her son can’t handle a simple thing like high school but Evan wouldn’t care. He would leave after he graduates and then he wouldn’t have to think about anyone else. Only himself. Just like over the summer.

Jared went into the bathroom. Evan watched anxiously. Would Connor follow? Was this a plan?

Evan stood by and watched from around the corner for about two minutes. Connor stayed at his locker, seemingly ignoring Jared. That’s when Evan let out a breath of relief. Jared must not be telling Connor.

He started walking towards Connor so that they could continue a normal conversation, pretend nothing happened. You would believe me over Jared, right? If Jared told you something? Of course he would.

When Evan was half way down the hallway, Connor closed his locker. He must have seen Evan.

Then he turned around, looking past Evan, and walked right into the men’s bathroom. Evan’s heart stopped.

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god—

He could feel his breath picking up, his hands sweating, body shaking. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe. All he could think about was Jared and Connor are in the bathroom, Jared looked really confident, Connor was going to talk to Jared—

He had to leave. He can’t be here. If he is here, Connor will talk to him, he will yell at him, call him freak, say it’s weird that he has a crush on a guy he’s known for almost two months after having a crush on his sister. Who the fuck does that?

To Mom: Hey mom can you call the school to sign me out? I feel like I’m going to puke

Easier to say than he was going to have a panic attack. If he told his Mom he was going to have a panic attack then she would ask why and he would have to come out when he just came out to himself and she would try to be supportive but it would come off harsh and cause more panic and he just. Just couldn’t handle that right now.

From Mom: Of course sweetie. Can you walk home?

To Mom: Yes

From Mom: I called. Get home safe. I love you! Xoxo

Again with the ‘xoxo’. Doesn’t matter. Evan can’t focus on that right now. He just needs to get home right now.

---

Evan wasn’t at school today. It wasn’t often that Evan skipped school. In fact, does he ever skip school? Connor can’t remember.

He wanted to ask Jared if he knew where Evan was, but that would be stupid. First of all, he doesn’t want Kleinman to think they are being all buddy buddy now. Second, Evan doesn’t tell Jared shit. He would know even less about where Evan is. Hell, he would probably say in his stupid voice I didn’t even notice he wasn’t here!

Jackass.

He didn’t want to sit in the lunchroom alone with no food where he knows Zoe will be able to see him, so he went on a walk. Maybe too long of a walk.

Might have gotten high, but whose problem is that?

He ended up skipping the rest of school. He only had fifth period and then sixth was his free period, so why not just go home? He would get in less trouble for skipping school than arriving at school high. He didn’t go home until school ended though. He may be suicidal, but even he won’t drive while he is high. He’d rather take his own life, not anyone else’s.

He ended up texting Evan. He had nothing to do while sitting in his truck and he still wanted to know where the boy was, so why not do something productive to his own life?

His sad, angry life.

To Single Scoop: hey were you at school

Connor got a response an hour later.

From Single Scoop: No

Okay well maybe that was a stupid question. Of course he wasn’t at school, Connor didn’t see a sign of him in class or at lunch.

To Single Scoop: were you sick

From Single Scoop: Yeah

He must be sick from anxiety. Evan never gave this vague of answers. He is always worried about hurting someone or people not understanding what he is doing so he’ll borderline over-explain a lot of things.

He doesn’t want to wait any longer. If he waits on asking Evan out, then he will never do it. If Jared is right and Evan does like him romantically then it would be an opportunity wasted.

To Single Scoop: can i talk to you after school tomorrow

From Single Scoop: Yeah

Good. Okay. We’re getting somewhere. He wants to talk to Connor. Now all Connor needs to do is think of what to say. How hard can it be?

---

He cannot think of anything to say.

He stayed up late last night trying to think of calm, collected, genuine way to ask Evan out. He watched some shows where they would ask partners out, watched videos on youtube of how couples got together, he even stole one of Zoe’s magazines to see if they had any help.

None of them helped. Everything was from the woman’s view, of what a woman could do to get a guy to notice her, what guys could do to make a woman happy and make them “fall in love” with them. There was nothing on how a guy could ask out a guy. So now Connor was just going to have to wing it.

He and Evan agreed to meet by his car at the end of school. He wishes they could meet somewhere else instead of a place where kids from their school could see them, disturb them, or eavesdrop on their conversation, but this was the best that they had. Connor didn’t want to bring him somewhere he couldn’t leave so he would have to say yes. Here is a neutral ground—Connor could hop in his car and Evan could walk home.

It was good. It was fine. Nothing bad could really happen.

All that confidence was thrown out the window when Connor saw Evan making his way towards his truck.

Connor immediately panicked. What does he ask?

Wanna date? Go out with me? I’ve liked you since seventh grade and you made me realize I was gay? No, that’s fucking creepy—

“Connor?” Connor looked up and there he was, Evan Hansen. Why can’t he breathe?

“Hey,” he mumbled. “Glad you made it.” Glad you made it?!

“Yeah.” He looked down at his feet and Connor saw him playing with the bottom of his polo. He could see his big and bulky handwriting that spelt out his name on the side of his cast. “What um… What did you want to uh, talk about?”

Great. Right to the point. No more stalling.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about… something.”

“Obviously,” Evan laughed.

“Okay, yeah,” Connor sighed. “Don’t get fucking sassy. It’s just…” he trailed off. How the hell does he say this? Is Evan going to be mad that he went to Jared? That Jared shared this secret?

“I like you,” he blurted out. Connor watched Evan tense up. Shit.

“Well, I uh, I would hope so,” he laughed anxiously. He was avoiding eye contact, wiping his hands on his pants.

“No. Fuck,” he cursed gently. Evan being anxious is making him anxious. “I mean I like like you.” What is this, middle school? “Like, a fucking crush or some shit like that.” He doesn’t sound confident in himself. Honestly, he doesn’t know if he is.

Evan was frozen. He seemed to stop moving, stop breathing. He was showing what Connor was feeling on the inside.

There was silence. Neither of them said anything. Connor was getting ready to blow with every second that ticked by. He wanted push Evan away, yell at him, scare him off, anything. He hated opening himself up to other people and he just couldn’t live with someone knowing this secret about him.

Evan finally mumbled something under his breath, thought Connor couldn’t hear him.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you would play a fucking prank on me!” he snapped. Connor shook his head. First of all, he never hear Evan curse that often, much less in the sense to yell at someone.

And prank?

“What the fuck do you mean?” Connor snapped, ever on the defense.

“I mean, how stupid—” He let out a sad laugh and looked at the ground while shaking his head. “Everyone does it. Maybe I’m stupid. Of course you would do this, because why else? Who wants to be friends with the loser kid unless it is to pull a prank on him.” He finally looked up at Connor and the pain in his eyes made Connor want to kill every person that ever hurt him. “Did Jared put you up to this?”

“What—”

“What a stupid fucking question,” he mumbled, interrupting Connor. “Of course Jared put you up to this! Why else would he corner me in my house? I can’t trust him, I never fucking could, but I trusted you Connor.”

“Evan, would you please—”

“I actually fucking trusted you!” Evan snapped. “I thought people grew out of the ‘asking people out as a joke’ phase Sophomore year, but apparently not! Apparently it’s still super fun to watch the kid who has a panic attack every time he has to answer to his name during roll call get his heart broken because no one actually wants to go out with him, or be his friend!”

“I thought you were better than this Connor. I really thought you wouldn’t be the kind of person to take advantage of me like that, but I don’t know why I thought that.”

“Evan, would you shut the fuck up!” Connor finally yelled. Evan stopped his rambling and looked Connor in the face, both fear and sadness in his eyes. “It’s not a fucking prank, for god's sake!”

“What else would it be?” Evan asked.

“The fucking truth, maybe?” Connor took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. He needed to fix the situation or this would be the end of he and Evan’s friendship. “I’m not lying! I know—I know it’s hard to believe, and I haven’t given you any fucking reason to believe me, but it’s true.”

“How long?” he asked.

“Since seventh grade,” Connor mumbled. It’s so fucking embarrassing.

“Seventh grade?”

“Yeah! I know,” Connor snapped. “I fucking know, it’s weird. It’s really fucking weird, but you were… definitely someone that helped me figure out my sexuality. I always had a small crush on you but I never wanted to try to talk to you because I was the freak and I never thought you would want to talk to me. But since we have become friends the crush started becoming stronger because you’re actually fucking nice and care about people, the environment, everyone!”

“I’m not...I’m not that nice.”

“But you are.” Evan was avoiding eye contact. He was still playing with the bottom of his polo.

Evan hadn’t left him standing alone by his truck and that was the only thing that Connor could count as a win right now.

“I need to think about it,” Evan mumbled. Connor nodded his head in understanding.

“Yeah. Okay, that’s fair.”

“I’m sorry, Connor,” Evan rushed out. Before Connor could tell him it was okay, it wasn’t his fault, not his problem but Connor’s, Evan rushed away in the other direction.

Connor watched with a heavy heart. He couldn't blame Evan for just running, for flipping out on Connor for thinking that he was pulling a prank on him. Obviously by the way he has reacted, something like that has been done plenty of times.

He should go home. There was nothing he could do now. Evan was gone and if Connor stayed here a minute longer, he would lash out.

---

“Connor, would you please eat your food,” Cynthia plead for the fifth time that night.

Connor actually decided to sit down with his family tonight because he has honestly been trying to give in to the need to want to be around people he gets very so often. He just forgets that his family will criticize behavior they want to see.

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbled.

“Larry, would you please tell him it’s important to eat.”

“Connor, listen to your mother,” Larry scolded without looking up from his IPad. Connor rolled his eyes.

“Larry!”

“Why are you not hungry, Connor?” Zoe snapped, always fed up with the attention being on Connor. Little does she know that Connor was too. “You should be starving after smoking so much pot.”

“I already told you I didn’t smoke today,” Connor snapped. “I stayed after school to talk to Evan!” Zoe motioned quotation marks as he talked and it took all of Connor’s energy to not throw something at her.

“Zoe, do not antagonize your brother!” Cynthia snapped.

“He’s lying! It’s obvious!”

“Zoe!” Zoe huffed and leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed, glaring at her plate of food.

Connor felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and looked down at the screen, anxiety festering deep in his chest. There was only one person that would text him at any point of time and Connor had been waiting all evening for him to answer.

From Single Scoop: I thought about my answer and

From Single Scoop: Yes. I will go on a date with you.

From Single Scoop: Not complete partners yet but… I will go out on a date

A bright smile took over his whole face. He doesn’t remember being so happy about something since he was young. Yes he was terrified. He could easily mess this up, whether it be with his mental health, with his simple thoughts, or just by existing. For once though, he was looking on the positive side.

“Connor?” Cynthia called. Connor snapped his head up to his mother to see a confused look on her face. “What are you smiling about?”

“I uh…” he stuttered. “I passed my math quiz.”

Cynthia’s face lit up and Connor felt a little bad at the fact that he lied.

Only a little bit.

“That’s great!” she cheered. Zoe stood up from the table and stormed off, seemingly done with the forced family time that Connor decided to actually take part in. Connor understands her feelings. He wishes he wasn’t related to him either, but they are stuck with each other. He has tried fixing it before, but apparently it was harder than people made it out to be to actually—

Connor stopped that thought process. He didn’t want to think about it right now. He and Evan were gonna go on a date.

If only seventh grade Connor could see him now.

#Dear Evan Hansen #Evan Hansen #Connor Murphy #Evan x Connor #Evan Hansen x Connor Murphy #Tree Bros #sunwriting #fanfiction #suicide mention #very slight but just in case

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

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What is the next craft you are going to make? I’ve gotten into making beaded bracelets. Do you go outside every time that it’s sunny? Nooo. I don’t care about it being sunny, that doesn’t do anything for me. Especially if it’s hot and miserable. I don’t understand how people like summer. I’m a fall and winter gal. What’s the last thing you purchased with cash? I don’t remember. In the winter, would you prefer it to be snowy or not snowy? It doesn’t snow here, but I wish it did. What decade did you grow up in? The 90s and 2000s. Although, I’d argue I still have growing up to do.

What was your favorite Backstreet Boys song? A few of them, but “I Want it That Way” holds special memories because in 4th grade I had the coolest teacher and he’d sing songs, even played some on piano, was always goofy and fun and just really cool. We loved when he’d read out loud to us cause he did the best voices. I still remember him reading Matilda to us. Anyway, back to the song, that was one of the songs he’d sing. The whole class did. I think sometimes he did it as a way to get the classes attention, like he’d start and then we join in and do every other verse or something. I think mostly he just did it for fun. I was so sad on the last day of school I remember crying at home lmao. He was favorite teacher by far. I was fortunate to have him again in 8th grade cause he started teaching that grade and it worked out great. My younger brother and a couple of my cousins had him, too. I actually have him on Facebook. Favorite *N Sync song? I have a few as well. Which of those two bands did you like best? I liked them both. Do you learn choreography easily? I’m no dancer at all. If you had to choose, would you rather be taller or shorter? Taller. Do you feel you can trust your doctor? One of my doctors I know I can. I’ve been seeing her for almost 4 years now and I know she really cares and has my best interest at heart. My other doctor isn’t as personal and I honestly kind of just feel like a number or paycheck and that’s all. I get what I need, which is the main thing, but still. What is the theme of this year’s wall calendar? I don’t have one. Do you feel like you were just writing 2009 on your school papers? No, it’s been 10 years now. How old will you be in 2033? Blah. Do you believe that Jesus will come back in your lifetime? I hope so. Do you still have your favorite toy from when you were kid? I still have my Barbies. What was the last good book you read? Burying the Honeysuckle Girls by Emily Carpenter. Which do you do more: read books, spent time online, or watch television? Spend time online and watch TV. What do you do the most when you’re online? Tumblr, watch YouTube, and check social medias. Do you use a sunlamp? No. Is your 2019 off to a good start? It was a horrible start, I got really sick and it caused setbacks and it was just a really, really bad time. How will you decorate for Valentine’s Day? We don’t. Which foot is bigger, your left or your right? I think my right one slightly is. What color is your winter coat? I have a black peacoat, a white peacoat, and a black/blue/gray/white plaid peacoat. Do you have an art journaling Bible? No. What’s your favorite candy to receive on Halloween? I liked getting chocolate. I hated getting stuff like “Dots.” Do you think you’re too old to go trick-or-treating? Uh, yeah I’d say so. I’m 30 years old. Do you have a bobblehead? Yeah, a Chewbacca one. If yes, what does your bobblehead look like? ^^^^

Have you ever spent your birthday alone? No. Do you enjoy spending holidays alone (if you’ve ever done it)? I’ve never spent any alone, thankfully. I love that I’ve been able to spend them with family and that’s how I want to spend every holiday. Which holiday is closest to your birthday? 4th of July. Have you ever had a themed bday party? Yeah as a kid I did. If yes, what was the theme? I had various ones. What is your favorite ride at the fair? I don’t do fairs. Were you afraid of heights as a child? I still am. Do you think it’s stupid when you’re dying to have someone pray that you don’t feel afraid? (I would want them to pray that I live, personally) No, not at all. I mean, if there’s a chance I could live then yes it would be nice if they prayed for recovery and that I pull through, but if there was nothing that could be done and I was dying, then it prayers of comfort and strength would be appreciated. It would be a scary time. What’s the strangest thing you’ve wrapped a present in? Nothing strange, I use wrapping paper, gift bags, or gift boxes. Do you enjoy and appreciate life? Or is this something you need to learn? No. :/ What was on the last mylar balloon you bought? I don’t recall. Which dollar store is your favorite? Why has this question come up in the last few surveys I’ve done?? Have you ever made a pom-pom out of yarn? No. Do you prefer to take showers in the morning or at night? At night. Can you read in the car? * Nooo. I would get so much motion sickness <<< Same. What food gives you diarrhea? That’s not an issue for me, my issue is I have a messed up stomach, so it just gets upset and I get really bad stomaches that really seem to be at random. Do you keep a diary with a lock and key, or do you just hope no1 will read? Nope. This is my diary for all to see. Do you have a friend turned enemy whom you wish were still your friend? No. Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No. Do you know how to use imovie? Yeah. What does your phone look like? Like a coral iPhone XR. Would you raise your kids differently than your parents raised you? I’m not having kids. What was the best part about college? The learning, some of the assignments, projects, and books we read, and in community college I was a board member for the psych club, which was a lot of fun. Overall I’d say I liked college, but I wouldn’t have said that during. During that time I got very stressed out, overwhelmed, and burnt out. Crazy to be able to look back and say I liked it overall. And it was a time I was doing something with my life and felt like I was working towards something. If you were homeschooled, did you come up with a school mascot? If so, what? I wasn’t homeschooled. Are you really “wild & free”? Nope. Do you wish to be a free spirit? I’d like to be more independent. I’d like to enjoy and actually live life, not letting fear or my health or myself or anything hold me back. Where would you go and what would you do if you could do anything? I’d love to just travel all over. Would you ever take a solo road trip? Nooo. Do the mountains fascinate you? They’re beautiful. What is the most fascinating part of nature? Nature is quite fascinating and beautiful.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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doomedandstoned · 5 years

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Closer To The End (part III)

I contend that human beings are not suited for the world we've fashioned for ourselves. Cases of anxiety and depression are practically ubiquitous, and suicide in all age groups is once again on the rise. Some will suffer mental afflictions that last years -- perhaps even for a lifetime. This is the third and final part of my story.

~By Billy Goate~

Cover art by Ruso Tsig additional art by Karl Briullov

I'm so tired of hearing that I'm wrong Everyone laughs at me, why me? I'm so tired of being pushed around I feel like I've been betrayed

youtube

We take each other's love, forget to give back Isn't it a pity, how we break each other's hearts I know we're only human and not to blame But who the hell are you to cause so much pain Why...

MEDICATION

My parents have been anti-establishment for as long as I can remember. In the climate of the 1980s, the institutions of the day were being called seriously into question. One of them was the authoritarian nature of public education (there's a reason why Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall" resonated so strongly with people). It's no surprise that my family got caught up in the first wave of the homeschooling movement. Other areas of modern life began to be called into question, as well, taking the family down a dark, windy road that led into conspiracy culture, extreme libertarianism, and religious dogmatism.

This distrust of the "experts" put us at odds with the medical establishment, too. "Doctors only know how to do two things," mom would often proclaim loudly in one of her famous rants, "cut you open or prescribe you pills." Natural medicine held the keys to recovery from all ills, be it cancer or the common cold. "All those chemicals aren’t good for your body," she insisted. "God put everything we need for healing in the ground." I’m not here to knock naturopathy (I was an ardent follower of this way of life for years) nor my mother for her convictions, but there are some things that can’t be cured by Saint John's Wort and herbal tea -- major depression being one of them.

At one point, my anxiety, melancholy, and a generalized feeling of social isolation reached such a heightened state I turned to hypnotism, enamored by an obscure radio program hosted by Roy Masters and his Foundation for Human Understanding. I was too young to understand the significance of most of the bullshit he was spewing, but it was the comprehensive approach to life that appealed to me. I wanted answers -- all of them. About the only thing I got out of it, though, was learning how to make my own arm go numb through self-hypnosis.

Later, I'd get caught up in a movement of Biblical counseling that rejected psychiatry altogether. "Christ has given us all things we need for life and godliness," says the holy writ, ergo we need none other than Jesus to cure our mental ills. Furthermore, the thesis said, since "God has not given us a spirit of fear" it must mean that the root of depression and anxiety is ultimately sin against God. The answer? Confess your sins and walk by faith, not by sight. In short, pray the sadness away. All of this had limited effectiveness in coping with the claustrophobic cloud of melancholy that was constantly with me.

Cough & Windhand: Reflection of the Negative by Windhand

The stigma of psychiatry and modern medicine kept me from treating my depression for damn near a decade. Somewhere in my late twenties, after a prolonged and particularly dark depressive spell, I decided to talk to my medical doctor about antidepressants. He started me on the industry standard, the well-known and well-marketed Prozac, which became a household name in the '90s. I took the first dose at bedtime and when I woke up, I was seriously hating the daylight. Feeling extraordinarily fatigued, all I wanted to do was sleep. I called in a rare sick day from work. The next day I was feeling groggy, but well enough to return. Giving it the good ol' college try, I took Prozac for several weeks as directed, but the side-effects just weren't worth it for me. That’s when I was referred to my first psychiatrist.

It was a weird feeling sitting in the waiting room for my appointment. I felt like I’d joined the ranks of the fragile, broken, and confused, perhaps even the insane. It was hard for me to see myself sharing anything in common with the others that shared the tiny lobby. The psychiatrist who greeted me looked like a regular chucklehead -- you know, one of those sidekicks from a sitcom that's not coming to me now. (It just came to me: Glen from the Tom Green Show.) A paunchy man in his 30s with wavy dirty blonde hair parted to the side donning wire-rimmed glasses, the shrink pulled out a notebook and started asking me about my background, while he busily took notes. Turned out, the man was very methodical in his approach. Over the course of the year, we cycled through all kinds of drugs -- Paxil, Effexor, Wellbutrin, Lexapro, Zoloft, and a lot of other names I'm not remembering, before finally settling on Cymbalta.

Certainly, this was something I didn't want to share with my coworkers, much less mom and dad. The first time I told my brother I was taking antidepressants, he was outraged. “You don’t need that stuff in your body. You don’t need pills to feel good.” I don’t know what it is about antidepressant medication that offends people so badly, but some people feel it is their personal mission in life to get you off of them. Why all the evangelical fervor? Are they secretly afraid they are "nuts," too? It’s not like I’m trying to get everyone else to take my medication, but suddenly these people, well-meaning or not, are trying to get you off of your meds.

I’ve seen YouTube videos from a guy claiming that God has cured him of his bipolar disorder and he flushed all his pills down the toilet (bad idea, by the way). Then a month later, he comes back online crying uncontrollably, talking about how he feels like God is testing him and asking viewers to pray to stop Satan’s onslaught. Moral of the story: It's dangerous to let people's religious opinions and untested hunches drive the agenda for our mental health.

I'm very reluctant these days to talk to anyone about my depression, because of all the rush to judgement involved. Ironically, it's this breakdown of community that I believe is at the heart of much of our mental health issues as a society. Look at the comments on any confessional video addressing burnout, depression, or anxiety and you'll find everyone is suddenly an expert who knows so well the precise and perfect solution to your problems. Well-meaning or not, it's incredibly annoying and I'd rather not have trouble with it. Hell, it took me two years to finish this article.

Depressed people are often viewed with the same cynical dismissiveness ascribed to angsty hormonal teens. "It's just a phase, you'll get through it," you're told with the reassuring wave of a hand. Besides, they remind you, "Happiness is a choice!" Because they are feeling chipper today, they have little patience for you dampening their mood. Others call you edgy when you say the pressures of life are so great that you feel like just turning off the lights on all of it. Still others will view you as selfish for leaving the family reunion early (or not wanting to participate in holidays at all). When you spend the whole weekend in bed sleeping, they'll accuse you of being indulgent, not realizing sleep gives you a respite from the hurt, guilt, and regret of painful memories or the misery of an unstable home life. Or the well-meaning "It Gets Better!" It doesn't always get better as life moves on.

Then there are those who try to talk you off your meds, entirely (cue: the ridiculously overwrought Facebook posts). We've all been privy to those conversations that strike a conspiratorial tone about how it was really the pharmaceutical companies that led to Chris Cornell's death. "You should just get off the stuff," they argue -- be it from noble intentions or just pride from clinging to an opinion they've stubbornly invested in.

Then there are those who are convinced that since Jesus (or Buddha, Allah Oprah, Jordan Peterson or juicing) gave them an escape from their depression, certainly it is the universal cure for all that ails you. Understand that I was a committed Christian for decades. I know what it is like to feel spiritually serene and I value many of the things the church gave me as a young adult, namely the fellowship, tolerance, and love. I know the feeling of peace that comes from believing in someone who reigns over the chaos and cares about your every need -- an ultimate being who will make sense of the nonsense one day.

I don't wish to diminish anyone's faith or diminish your personal experiences. The fact is, however, that major depression is as much a physical illness as cancer is. Certainly, there are transitional feelings of unhappiness, emptiness, and despair that come from facing situations that seem out of one's control -- the nightmare roommate, being laid off from a job, losing a loved one. It's also true that in most cases, this sadness can be overcome by a new perspective, trying better strategies, or simply allowing the passage of time to do its healing work. Depression can be impacted by one's beliefs, but there is a kind of depression that exists independently of one's perspective on life.

SUICIDAL TENDENCIES

Apart from this series of articles (which took me a good two years to publish), I've stopped sharing my depression with other people. It's annoying, because most people don't know how to listen and empathize. They want to jump in with a solution that, if implemented by nightfall, just might make a difference by daybreak. It's just more hassle than it's worth. Over time, I've gone from being someone with an intense need to belong, to not caring what people think about me at all. I'll often go out of my way to avoid anything deeper than transactional relationships. Once a social butterfly, you'll find me quite the hermit these days. As a consequence, while I was once open to sharing my feelings of loneliness and despair, I rarely mention them any more on social media and practically never to my IRL friends. I would be the last person to call a suicide hotline, by the way. Judge me if you wish, but I'm just being honest. If you want to know what is going on in the head of a severely depressed person with suicidal ideation, here's a least one brain you can peer into.

There's a general consensus that suicide is a selfish decision, even a cowardly act. This was a casual opinion of my own for years, as well. Not until suicide touches someone in your life -- or when you enter its despondent realm yourself -- does the ridiculousness of that notion becomes apparent. Understand that for a person to commit suicide, they have to overcome the brain's own strong predilection for self-preservation. It's not so easy to take the step of ending your life. Something has gone terribly wrong with the brain's ability to convincingly cry, "STOP!" for that to happen.

In my worst bout of depression, following the demise of long-term relationship, I reached the point where every waking moment was sheer misery. Some call this anhedonia -- the inability to feel pleasure. Normally, when we are feeling blue, we seek out something to stimulate our pleasure receptors. That's why ice cream, chocolate, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups are popular go-tos for the bummed out. For me, it's always been music and movies. On this particular week, though, I had somehow lost the capacity to find any joy whatsoever in the usual pastimes. Anything that attempted to pacify my mood met with my contempt. The only thing I could do to escape the agony of just being alive and conscious was to sleep...and sleep I did. At first 8 hours a night, up from my usual 7. Then it advanced to 9, 10, 11, 12 hours. When dawn came, a wave of misery washed over my mind again.

Once, I woke up feeling so despondent that I knew with absolute clarity that I could end my life. Today, I could actually do it. Immediately upon this realization, I wept bitterly. I've not cried like that before or since. If anything, I've become more stoic about the idea of suicide. Don't get me wrong, my internal sense of self-preservation is still quite strong. The problem is that in moments of severe depression, that instinct is dampened. You'll do just about anything just to get rid of the feeling of misery making it unbearable to be awake.

DOOM AWAKENING

One of the most important developments in treating my depression, besides medication and therapy, was the discovery of doom. There's an old expression that misery loves company. I don't know about you, but when I listen to music it's not generally to cheer me up. No, I want my tunes to have a certain level of commiseration with what I'm feeling and going through at the time. When I discovered (quite by accident) Saint Vitus, I knew I'd found my soul food. I can't fully explain that eureka moment when Dave Chandler belted out that first downtuned note on the guitars on "Born Too Late" or when Wino joined with plaintive lyrics for "I Bleed Black." This resonated with me powerfully. It brought chills. This was medicine for my weary head, a kind of mental morphine to dull the pain. I'd come to the Roseland Theater for Down and left with Saint Vitus.

As a funny aside, my roommate (who accompanied me to the show) and I rehashed the bands of the night, giving our two cents on this or that. One thing he said still makes me smile a little inside. "What did you think of Saint Vitus?" I asked. "I don't think they're the kind of band that will withstand the test of time," he remarked. "Well," I rejoined, "they have been playing now for over 30 years and were the co-headliners on a national tour, so their sound must be resonating with a good number of people." Sure, it wasn't for everyone, but on that night my doom had come.

Every song on 'Born Too Late' (1986) so perfectly captures the malaise of the deeply wounded soul, not just in lyrics but in the whole vibe. There's a thick, smoky haze permeating the record and it reminds me a lot of what it feels like after you've poured out your heart until you've got no more tears left to cry. Come on, don't pretend you're so macho that normal human emotions elude you. It's hard to put doom into words, but I'll try: on the one hand you feel emotionally exhausted because you've emptied out all those pent up feelings of loss, fear, regret, and frustration, on the other hand there's a feeling of "reset" and it often makes things much clearer to sort through. For me, when I've exhausted all my emotional resources, I'm left with a feeling of blithe acceptance. A sense of being dealt a set of cards by the impartial hand of fate. That's the kind of vibe that Saint Vitus captures perfectly for me on this record.

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I spent entire weekends on those long, wonderful rabbit trails of discovery. "Dying Inside" led me to Trouble's "The Tempter" with its oh-so-tragic central riff. Lyrically, the songs I was running across could not have been more apropos.

Pentagram, The Skull, and Candlemass were not lingering far behind. Then came the more recent monoliths of doom: Electric Wizard, Windhand, High on Fire, Burning Witch, Khanate, Pilgrim, Serpentine Path, Usnea, Demon Lung, Ancient VVisdom, Dopelord, and the NOLA sludge scene, along with lesser known but equally as powerful acts like Undersmile, Shepherd's Crook, Reptile Master, Purple Hill Witch, Witchthroat Serpent, March Funèbre, Beldam, Hooded Priest, Regress, and 71TONMAN (listen to the Spotify playlist).

Doom metal spoke to me with a sharp realism that I connected with immediately. When you have no strength left to get angry at the world, you switch your listening habits from Car Bomb to Cough. You can say, I suppose, that doom was my salvation. It kept me hanging on a little while longer. The salve of those slow, low riffs gave me a strange feeling of consolation. "We know life sucks, too. Welcome to reality." It's like being awakened to the Matrix, but feeling there's not a damned thing you can do to change any of it. Your fate is sealed. It's an honesty that is both refreshing and freeing, I suppose, though one does wish to reclaim the notion of hope.

Believe it or not, even after writing all of this, optimism is my default mode. When I'm feeling well, and even when my depression is at low levels, the needle always leans towards inspiration, creativity, even a mischievous sense of humor and an aw, shucks smile that people tend to notice. I don't want to be depressed. The problem is that severe depression can make you feel, illusion or not, like you're paralyzed from doing anything about it.

As I've experienced more and more cuts and scrapes of life, I've become increasingly numb to it all, like the massive build-up of scar tissue. Things that upset me easily in the past might still hurt, but I've come to expect them, so they have the impact of a dull table knife. Perhaps I'm becoming a nihilist, despite my optimistic tendencies. It's hard not to be. Don't worry about me, though. If anything, I want to stick around to see what's going to happen next. It's the inborn curiosity we all have inside of us -- the same thing that I imagine kept Stephen Hawking going for decades after being wrecked by a disease that cruelly mangled his body into its famously misshapen form, stealing away his most basic expressive freedoms -- save for the power of his eyes and the thoughts behind them.

I've also made a deliberate attempt to pursue treatment (both psychiatric and psychological care) for my depression, which I urge you to do if you are likewise laboring under its crushing weight. The perspective of time, coupled with a remedy for mind and body can have a significant impact on your perspective, if not your life circumstances.

THE WINDY ROAD AHEAD

Learn from your mistakes, don't dwell on them. Repeated affirmations like this one may seem trite, but they are ultimately true. You can be free from the chains of guilt and move forward, as one performer puts it, "from strength to strength."

Don't kill yourself (literally or metaphorically) for someone else or for someone else's decisions. It may bum you out that a roomie decided to take your money and run or that you were rebuffed by a long-time crush or made jobless through corporate-wide cuts. You don't own that, they do.

Walks

Get off the couch, move that bod. Something as simple as a walk down the block or a drive out of town can do wonders for your perspective. As a homeschool teen living under the strict rule of a radical fundamentalist household in rural East Texas, my one salvation were those long walks in the open field -- especially when my parents started having loud, intense fights related to my mom's own mental health. I sorted through so many of life's problems (most of which seemed much larger then than they do now) through those solitary, hour-long strolls.

I really miss that where I live now, in a more congested neighborhood, so I have to find other ways of getting away from it all (getting up and out a half-hour before the other walkers, for instance, helps). Even if I don't want to rustle myself awake and move around to do as simple a task as taking out the trash, sometimes the feeling...let me revise that...quite often the feeling follows after the decision has been made and the body is in motion.

Projects

Another piece of advice I have for coping with depression is to channel your frustrations in projects. When I'm depressed, I throw myself into my work. Hell, Doomed & Stoned started because I needed a project to pour myself into. My counselor asked me once, "If you woke up tomorrow without depression, what would be different about your world?"

She encouraged me to start with the things that were in my immediate vicinity. "Well, there wouldn't be mail strewn all over the floor. My dirty clothes would be in the hamper, my clean clothes folded and put away. I'd take the time to cook myself a meal, instead of running out the door eating a quick bite out of some package."

Good, let's make a list and start there. Do at least one of the things on your list between now and the time we meet again next week.

Talks

Despite my isolationist ways, I begrudgingly admit that talking often helps, too. Though I'm an introvert and am horrified at the idea of sharing my feelings with others, I've reached points in my depression where I was compelled to tell others about it. It's as natural to do that as to cry out when your body is experiencing jolting pain. I'm one of those verbal processors that tends to sort through my problems by talking to someone else. Often, pride or shame or lack of trust gets in the way of sharing with our family and friends, so at the very least the much talked about Suicide Prevention Hotline could actually help you gain perspective on your situation.

Journals

If you don't talk, at least journal. Again, I'm not a journaler and this is the first time in almost three decades that I've written about anything related to my depression. Role play with me. You're a scientist studying the human psyche. How would you describe those feelings you call depression? When I was first asked to describe it to a counselor, I found myself at a loss for words. She helped me with prompts:

Can you tell me what it feels like?

"I walk around feeling like a dark, thick raincloud is hovering all around me all the time."

Do you feel it in a part of your body?

"Well, yeah, I guess. The head. And the chest. It feels like there's pressure building from all around me, like my head is going to explode. My heart feels like it's going to leap out of my chest."

What's happening around you when these feelings arise?

I'd then go on to detail some recent happenings. She'd press me further to describe the kinds of thoughts racing through my head in these situations. All of this was really helpful in getting me to define this nebulous, gray malaise that was following me everywhere I went.

I don't keep a journal, per se. Something about it feels needlessly egotistical, a vain attempt to reinforce the illusion in our YouTube fame crazy world that my life is worth discovering and remembering at some point in the distant future. And yet, writing down one's thoughts can be another effective way of untangling that anxious ball of feelings that keeps me from thinking rationally about the depression I'm feeling.

Today is my birthday, but I couldn't care less. It's not about getting old. I stopped caring about that 10 years ago. It's something about celebration, specifically when the attention is on me. I can't adequately describe how contemptuous I find it. My last birthday was spent alone in an empty house and a bottle of Scotch, catching up with past seasons of Game of Thrones. I was so glad it was over and the happy birthday wishes stopped. There's nothing special about this day for me.

At some point, my family stopped celebrating birthdays and holidays. I'm not sure when it happened or why. Certainly not for religious reasons, more probably for financial ones. I grew up in a family that barely scraped by, so birthdays seemed a luxury we couldn't afford. Now, it just feels indulgent. More than that, it feels sad. It reminds me of all the disappointments, hurts, and failures of the past year. It's not as though it's all bad, of course. If nothing else my birthday gives the illusion that a chapter has turned, with new possibilities for the future. I also have to come to terms with how many people out there actually seem to care about me, maybe even love me.

And later that day, I forced myself to go to a show I was quite enthused about, but didn't factor in depression being the party pooper.

I can't account for what it is that comes over me. There are people here that genuinely like me, who probably even want to get to know me better, but I push them away. Not so much directly, but indirectly, by excusing myself to use the restroom and then changing my mind midway and just leaving the venue -- without even the courtesy of a "goodbye" to friends or a "great show" to the bands. I feel awful about it afterwards, but in that moment it's like a flood of emotional pain washes over me and it feels like I'm carrying an anchor chained around my neck. I feel the great urge to find my way to unlit corners. To look busy and preoccupied. Would it hurt me to say hello? To smile? Perhaps not, but right now my psyche is tingling like some kind of Spidey Sense telling me, "Get out of here! Just get your shit and leave...NOW."

As dour and hopeless as that may feel, just the act of writing it down afforded me a release, which incidentally I did not feel until the writing was all said and done.

Hope, a new beginning Time, time to start living Just like just before we died

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Hurt, falling through fingers Trust, trust in the feeling There's something left inside There's no going back to the place we started from.

ONE MORE THING

For those of you who are wondering what you can do for a friend, family member, coworker or just someone you know casually from shows you both frequent, I couldn't say it better than one of my longtime fellow travelers in doom, who offered up this advice:

"While it's all very well and fucking dandy that there are so many people telling those who are struggling to reach out to them, I don't think people are quite understanding just how mental illness works sometimes. People quite often don't reach out, because those that are suffering from mental illness, at times, feel like they are a burden by unloading their shit onto someone else, despite the invitation to do so. It's generally the same concept that leads on to suicide.

I obviously can't speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself when I say the last thing I want to do is reach out to anyone because I feel like I am a burden and everyone would be better off without me -- and that is ultimately why I don't reach out. The point that I'm trying to get at is if you see someone struggling YOU reach the fuck out. If you don't see someone who used to be around, YOU reach the fuck out. Think about it. It's not that hard."

Well said and completely on the mark. At the same time, if you're feeling alone and uncared for, you may look at people’s lack of inquiry as more confirmation that you are worthless trash. You may interpret a busy person's slight as utter rejection. Don't worry about what others may or may not think of you. You need to take care of you, for you. The future is fickle. Your fortunes can change on a dime, so why base your self-worth and your decision about whether to live or die by how you feel right now? Ride it out, seek out help, get a game plan in play.

I say this as someone who knows how hard it can be to get mental health. I was double insured -- through my employer and the Veterans Administration -- and I couldn't get a god damned psychiatric appointment to reevaluate and adjust my meds. I called all over town trying to get in with someone. "Sorry, we're not accepting new patients" was the universal refrain. The VA would just be too many month's wait, I told myself, based upon how long it has taken me in the past to get a conventional medical appointment. In desperation, I called up my primary care doctor who asked if I was suicidal. For the first time in my life, I knew with full certainty the answer was yes. The more miserable I felt, the more I contemplated dying. If I did it, it would be something quick and sudden, I would daydream in my most despondent moment. "You need to check yourself into the hospital now," she told me adamantly. I did exactly that. I walked into the ER and told them I was suicidal. They led me to a room, had me take off all my clothes, and put on a hospital gown. I stayed in a padded room waiting for a social worker to see me. It was a desperate move, but it did pay off in getting me fast-tracked to see a psychiatrist.

One thing I learned about medication from my new psychiatrist (because he was very caring, very careful, and hence very effective at his job) is that everyone’s brain chemistry is uniquely different. There can be other issues impacting mood, too, such as thyroid, environmental stressors, sleep problems, vitamin deficiencies, and so on. Again, it’s often hard to see whether the cart is leading the horse or the horse is leading the cart, in terms of the mind-body connection. Long story short, this doctor adjusted my meds to near perfection to get me through the rare summer-long depression I was experiencing.

Just a few months later, he got hired away to work for the County and I was left back in the same boat once again. I got a great referral, but didn't realize until bills came in I couldn't pay that the doctor was out of my insurance network. Believe me, many people prefer to go without care entirely than to go into debt and I was one of them (truthfully, I still am). I went another year until I couldn't take it anymore and this time in my desperation reached back out to the VA. Surprisingly, they saw me within a week and prioritized my suicidal depression. I'm now in a good spot as a result, but it was a long, windy, uncertain road getting here. I know it's hard to find help. Sometimes you don't know what's available to you until you knock a little louder and get people's attention.

The older I get, it seems the more stubborn I am, particularly when it comes to reaching out and asking for help. Perhaps I've always been that way and am only now realizing it's become a liability. After taking off three weeks during the holidays to catch up with the many projects that were piling up around me, I realized that my depression was sometimes stronger than my will to power through and do my best work. I would find myself sitting at the computer for hours trying to get started with a story, trying to edit audio for a podcast, trying to prepare a team member's submission for publication, and every time I would find myself coming up against something painful, perhaps similar to the long recognized creative crimp known as writer's block. I describe it as an inhibitor chip in my brain that sends pain signals to my psyche whenever I contemplate moving forward.

Of course, rationally, I know it's all just a matter of the will, right? That's what those who aren't experiencing depression will tell you, at least. They don't want to go to the gym, but they make the choice to do it anyway, so why can't you just "man up" and do what needs to be done? Well, those aren't so much the messages other people give me, as they are my own conscience. The guilt itself from a day coming and going without results adds its own layer of complication to my mood. Thankfully, I have a wonderful counselor who understands and is helping me to tackle this with cognitive strategies. This, coupled with sensible medical treatment, has at least helped me to find "even flow" again.

Finally, you're going to have some bad days where you may even want to be productive, but your body feels like it's in revolt. As a creative person who loves to pour myself into as many projects as I can when I'm feeling good, it can be extraordinarily frustrating to not even feel the will to check email, open a letter, or listen to a stitch of music. Most days, I'm trying to work in concert with my body's natural rhythms. I'm more of a morning person and get my best work done between 8AM and 11AM. Anything after that is going to be hit or miss with diminishing returns. With that in mind, I have to hold back from starting new projects before the ones already on my plate are finished, because when I'm feeling good, I think I can take on the world.

This is all a part of me rediscovering what it's like to feel balanced, bright, and in love with life. It can be frustrating to have that feeling back, only to watch it wither away as the week progresses. Since I have very high expectations of myself, it's natural for me to heap guilt upon guilt for all the missed opportunities, but beating myself up only compounds the problem (it took me a long time to really get this about myself, too). Every day is a struggle, but I've decided I'm staying in the fight for the long haul.

In short: Be patient with yourself. Be fair with yourself. Be good to yourself. Remember, this too shall pass.

"Someday you're going to die, just like some day I'm going to die. But until then, you fight like hell to stay alive, you get that?!"

-- William Holden, The Earthling (1980)

#Closer To The End #Depression #Suicide #Doom #Metal #Saint Vitus #Trouble #Alice in Chains #Windhand #Doomed & Stoned

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Articles

Text 1 Title of the Text: Depression Author of the Text: Ranna Parekh Title of the Publication: American Psychiatric Association URL or Web Address: https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/depression/what-is-depression

Depression. It’s a heavy word, and one that we are all too familiar with in our day and age. Depression isn’t equivalent to sadness it’s a serious medical condition. It isn’t something that can be controlled manually. Although all age groups are open to depression, teenagers are the most common to be heard of being affected by the disease. This is probably because of peer pressure and the changes in their life. Although women are three times more likely to become depressed than men, men are five times more likely to commit suicide when depressed than woman.

Depression is more common in woman because woman are more ruminative than men, they tend to think about things more which, though a very god thing, may also predispose them to developing depression. Woman are generally more invested in relationships than men. Relationship problems are likely to affect them more, and so they are more likely to develop depression. Also, women come under more stress than men. Not only do they have to go work just like men, but they may also be expected to bear the brunt of maintaining a home, bringing up children, caring for older relatives, and putting up with all the sexism.

There are many symptoms of depression. Sadness and loss of satisfaction in things once enjoyed are probably the most known symptoms. But some symptoms are sometimes over looked. Guilt is one symptom that coincides with depression immensely. When feelings of guilt are put on a person they lose what hope they once had.

They blame themselves for things that they are not accountable for and have extreme feelings of hopelessness. Stress is another great factor in depression. Stressful events or experiences can stimulate depression in people who are predetermined to the disorder.

Depression is not only a state of being sad, it is a disease that conquers the ability to feel emotion, whether good or bad, whatsoever. Depression not only involves the mind, it also involves the body and thoughts. It is a serious but treatable disorder that affects millions of people, from young to old. It gets in the way of everyday life, causing tremendous pain, hurting not just those suffering from it but also impacting everyone around them.

If someone you love is depressed, you may be experiencing any number of difficult emotions, including helplessness, frustration, anger, fear, guilt and sadness. These feelings are all normal. Its not easy dealing with a friend or family member’s depression. If you neglect your own health, it can become overwhelming. That said, your companionship and support can be crucial to you loved one’s recovery. You can help them to cope with depressions symptoms, overcome negative thoughts, and regain their energy, optimism, and enjoyment of life.

Start by learning all you can about depression and how to best talk about depression and how to best talk about it with your friend or family member. But as you reach out, don’t forget to look after your own emotional health, you’ll need it to provide the full support your loved one needs.

Depression make it difficult for a person to connect on a deep emotional level with anyone, even the people they love the most. You can’t rescue someone from depression nor fix the problem for them. You’re not to blame for your loved one’s depression or responsible for their happiness. While you can offer love and support, ultimate recovery is in the hands of the depressed person.

Depression can be managed with professional treatment. People who receive professional treatment for depression said it improved their mental their mental condition. The doctor can treat any medical issues that may be responsible for the symptoms of depression, and if medication is an issue, the hospital provides other options as well.

Depression is a serious problem, but there are millions of people who have managed to lead successful lives despite struggling with it. It’s important that society recognizes depression for what it is. It’s an illness, not a choice.

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Text 2 Title of the Text: Education Author of the Text: Marion Lewis Title of the Publication: Huffpost URL or Web Address: https://www.huffpost.com/entry/home-schooling-vs-public-schooling-making-the-right_b_57d277c3e4b0f831f7071a82?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cudHVtYmxyLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAAdTS0lhVxVQdiEckP6_R1TJARxC-hId68ORXr_Cqx4l6f2lO1nszEmcl_Q3YCyie7HfNJG_O8w18wsT4O6IonH2edBVsIRm1mUX23XjjZZNaNFp_55CodE6naHBt9euMvmJH6RtzsUIUBfrDFAHBHQ9WJk9DlIgc-bYl0XHYJsG

According to the article “Education plays an important role in human life regarding to build their personality, career , and mental growth”. Education helps us to build our own foundation and to widen our knowledge to our surroundings. Education empowers minds that will be able to conceive good thoughts and ideas. It enables students to do the analysis while making life decisions. It helps you to achieve your dreams, to be a doctor, engineer and many more.

We can also bring positive changes to the society, government and economic. Through government , education is one of the ways to prevent corruption and other environmental problems. To society, Education makes us better citizens by teaching us how to conduct ourselves through life by following rules and regulations and giving us a sense of conscience. Lastly, to economic, education helps the people to build more good structures and technology so that people would live a safety and enjoyable lifestyle.

As Nelson Mandela stated “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world”. Education is used to empower ones mind to come up with new ideas new vision and plans for the society. Education is one of the reasons why our community is improving such as gadgets, houses and many more. Education grows as values. If you have the skills but don’t have the values then educated person become useless. Education has to be accessible to all. Thanks to modern technologies and internet innovators. Due to them, now rural people, poor people, and people living in huts are able to get access to education through mobiles phones.

There are difference between schooling and education. Schooling takes place in the home environment, while education may take place in schools, colleges or universities. Home schooling has steadily become one of the most popular forms of education for parents across the world. According to research, it develops increasingly fast at an approximate annual rate of 7-15 percent per year.

There are parents who believe that school environment can spoil the young minds and prevent them from developing independent thinking abilities. Basically, this reflects the difference between homeschooling and education, because in case of homeschooling children have a greater opportunity to develop certain skills that they would not be able to develop at school.

However, another difference lies in the fact that school might affect children negatively because of some categories of people they socialize with at school. This is a perceptible difference between home and school education.Some parents are concerned about the academic quality of various public schools due to the overcrowded classrooms. This is another difference between homeschooling and school education. It is reflected in the fact that school environment suggests educating a great number of students which prevents individual students from developing in a right way and receiving a quality education.

Furthermore, some parents have to take care of children with special needs for whom homeschooling is the best option, because home environment provides better conditions for their development. In this regard, it should be noted that another difference between homeschooling and education is that education does not provide means for accommodating needy students, which makes it an inappropriate form of education for students with disabilities.

Text 3 Title of the Text: Bullying Author of the Text: Roxanne Dryden-Edwards Title of the Publication: Bullying Facts URL or Web Address: https://www.medicinenet.com/bullying/article.htm

Bullying is the big part of the fear of most people going to face. Bullying can lead to self harm. In severe cases, bullying can even lead to death. No matter how someone is bullied, face to face, publicly over the internet or anonymously over the internet, all cases extreme pain to the victim. Others who choose to do nothing or don’t reach out for help the victims of bully may secretly cut or harm themselves. Some they become depressed and think suicidal thoughts. This victims of bullies decide they can’t handle life itself anymore so they commit suicide.

Most of the teens bully through online or in social media because it is easy, you can just type, click and post even without them knowing who you are. Cyber bullying is very unhealthy though it never touches our body or we’re not physically damaged, but it causes us to become depress and can make us experience anxiety. We are mentally and emotionally damaged that can lead us to suicide.

Bullying is a deliberate act to hurt someone physically, verbally or psychologically. Bullying is an issue of power. Bullying is when individual or groups persistently over a period of time, behave in ways, which causes another person to feel hurt, physically or non-physically. Using technology, a person can be able to bully without the face to face confrontation. Bullies can be anyone because they can hide behind technology becoming anonymous. These makes finding the bully very difficult.

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There are many different types of bullying that can be experienced by children and adults alike, some are obvious to spot while others can be more subtle. The different types of bullying that we look at below are some of the ways that bullying could be happening. Physical bullying includes, hitting, kicking, tripping, pinching and pushing or damaging property. Verbal bullying includes name calling, insults or verbal abuse. While verbal bullying can start off harmless, it can escalate to levels which start affecting the individual target. Social bullying is often harder to recognize and can be carried out behind the bullied person’s back. It is designed to harm someone’s social reputation and/or cause humiliation. Cyber bullying can be overt or covert bullying behaviors using digital technologies, including hardware such as computers and smartphones, social media and other online platforms.

There are several sites on the internet that offer advice on how to deal with bullies. Some of the suggestions that can be found are to make sure to tell a teacher, tell parents, be aware when walking alone, always stay calm when being bullied, make sure to use one voice to attract attention. Talk to someone. As hard as bullying is to deal with, one day you will be out of school and never have to see these people again. In the meantime, fond someone you can confide in. Talk to your parents or a counselor. They may be able to help.

Bullying can never be a joke, it causes major destruction to ourselves. It will never be good to bully someone though you can make some people laugh, but the point is you just hurt or win someone’s feeling and life. Stand up for friends and others you see being bullied. Your actions help the victim feel supported and may stop bullying. Some people bully to deal with their own feelings of stress, anger, or frustration. Bullies might also have been bullied and now want to show their power by bullying someone else. Even though people are different, it’s important to treat everyone with respect.

Text 4 Title of the Text: Pollution Author of the Text: Archana Title of the Publication: India Celebrating URL or Web Address: https://www.indiacelebrating.com/article/article-on-pollution/

Anything added into the environment that results in producing harmful or poisonous effect on living things is called pollution. Pollution is the process that makes nature’s resources such as land, water, air or other parts of the environment unsafe or unsuitable to use. Pollution can be of many types: soil, air, water, thermal, radioactive, noise, and light. The toxins released are inhaled by each one of us while we breathe. Pollution is a process of making the environment dirty and unhealthy for humans and animals to live. It is caused due to the release of both tangible and intangible contaminants. These can be released naturally or by humans themselves accidentally or deliberately.

Inhaling poisonous air is as hazardous as smoking. It is not only the humans who are affected from this polluted environment but also the animals. Air is filled with highly toxic gases. These dangerous gases in environment are released by the power industries that burn fossil fuels, industries that dispose wastes in the water, farmers using pesticides, high usage of artificial lights and loud sounds. Any use of natural resources at a rate higher than the nature’s capacity to restore itself can result in pollution of air, water, and land. Other than human activities, there are a few periodic natural cycles that also result in release of dangerous stuff. Natural activities other than the human activities like volcanic eruption, dust wildfires, etc also result in creation of pollution.

Pollution disturbs our ecosystem and the balance in the environment. Each year millions of people die due to various diseases caused by pollution. The biggest irony of all this is that even if we know that the earth is getting polluted, ultimately it is the human beings themselves who dig their own grave by doing deliberate activities because of which pollution is caused. It does not only spoil human beings’ health but also worsen their quality of life.In order to fight this life threatening effects of pollution, vigorous efforts should be made. Anti-pollution laws should be strictly implemented. In order to check water pollution, sewage and the factory wastes should be properly disposed off and vehicles should be made eco-friendly.

Every individual owns certain responsibility of maintaining few points such as not throwing garbage all around, growing trees, using public transport instead of their own, etc. We must shun excessive consumption and avoid careless and deliberate disposal of post-consumption waste resources which could otherwise be recycled and would led to pollution control. Pollution cannot be reduced or controlled if a sense of responsibility towards our Mother Earth is not felt by all concerned. Pollution can be controlled, if not eliminated. Efforts such as promoting green environment and proper disposal of waste are simple steps that lead to great emphasis on maintaining the order of environment. Environmental pollution is a global problem today. Public awareness is a must to prevent pollution. Population control will also help to save the world from environmental pollution. Scientific exploitation of natural resources is yet another step to prevent environmental pollution. Let us not destroy the place we live in for there is no other place we can go.

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lizord-lord · 6 years

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The Invisible Language

(This is a vent fic. I was struggling with having to dump a friend yesterday and it got me dwelling on my social struggles..and so I tried my hand at actually writing a fic to project all my problems through! XD)

(For anyone who doesn’t know, I have autism-Aspergers specifically, and I totally 100% headcanon Logan as an aspie. I have this post detailing why. So..for those of you who also stan autistuc Logan (and maybe a bit of ADHD Roman) here is this, me basically throwing my entire life story on our poor nerd and I am so sorry but also not XD. Also, the book I mentioned is very real, and I actually own it. It’s really useful, if a bit dated and heteronormative)

Warnings: Descriptions of sensory overload (similar to a panic attack) social struggles, very brief mention of selfharm, mentions of fistfights and minor physical violence.

Ships: none, but you can probably see my logicality heart in there lmao

The Invisible Language.

It was all just so complicated now.

Or rather, now he knew how complicated it was.

Before, Logan had always just thought he was bad with people. That was fine. It fit, with his habit of staying inside with his nose in a book. The socially awkward, introverted nerd who wasn’t good with kids.

It was simple.

But that’s the thing. Life isn’t simple. And neither was Logan. Even as a six year old.

The socially awkward, introverted nerd, from what he’d seen on tv, would have cried or just silently tried to make due when another kid ‘accidentally’ spilled tomato juice all over his copy of Alice in Wonderland. Logan Sanders leapt from his desk, grabbed the kid’s wrist, and yanked him down so his head smashed into the wood.

The socially awkward one was laughed at. Logan was sent to the office.

Time and time again this would happen. Until he turned eight, and his parents pulled him out of school. He was homeschooled after that, and it was simultaneously like a breath of fresh air and entering a stifling hot room. He was free of the children, free to discover on his own, but he found himself itching for more, to ask questions about things his parents could answer, to do projects he’d heard about online but often ended up screaming in his attempts to recreate them because it wasn’t explained, why this, why that, how do I do that, it doesn’t make sense!!

Homeschooling was a blessing and a curse. He made due. He did well in fact, almost all of his online courses were marked complete with a neat 100 for the score. It was enough for them, but not for him. Eight year old Logan hated it. Ten year old Logan was used to it.

Eleven year old Logan dug his heels into it.

Middle school. His parents wanted to send him back. He understood their reasoning, the rational half of his brain did. Middle school was a big change, adolescence, and the middle ground before high school, which he always knew he would be going to-you can’t get college credit from online courses and library books after all, not the ones he was using. It would give him time to prepare. And yet he was a creature of habit, so used to his solitary life..

Logan has no choice however.

On the first day he stepped inside, armed with only the knowledge of American Girl books he’d skimmed through (who cared if they were meant for girls, they didn’t write helpful guides for boys!) and distant memories of elementary school. The first weeks went by as a blur, and Logan ate it up. The assignments, the grades, the smirk he always found himself wearing when he placed his assignments in the bin. That triumph didn’t even compare to the rush of pride and satisfaction he felt when the teacher told the class that he test they’d been given was apparently too hard, many kids failed and only one student actually got a perfect score, and his paper was handed back with a 100 written on the top.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t hold the paper up a bit and catch the eyes of the numerous people who stared at him with no surprise in their eyes.

Logan even found friends in those first few weeks. A darkly dressed kid who, much like him, never really knew where to go during paired projects and ended up working with him. He found that Virgil was actually very bright, a relief when he looked around the room to see people talking and not doing anything useful. The pale boy was quiet, but listened as Logan chattered away about his plans for the assignment.

Patton was next, a round-faced boy who seemed to share at least a few words with everyone he saw. Logan didn’t mind that. He wasn’t a lazy student, maybe a bit easily distracted, but when he was sat next to Logan in science his work quality was always at least a solid B, as long as he was shushed every now and again. He seemed better with people too, and Logan found himself enjoying his company.

Then there was Roman. He was introduced to their little trio by Patton, who apparently shared a drama class with the tanned boy. He was..a handful. And yet Logan found himself challenged by him. Their friendship was an unusual one, full of debates that more often than not ended in yelling, but at least they started off with intelligent points and interesting ideas-and if often Patton had to break off their passion so neither of them landed with lunch detention, well that was the price to pay.

He was enjoying himself here.

Then the second month. Logan remembered where he was when a redheaded girl told him he was wrong in that ‘you’re a moron’ tone when he told her that actually, the word for the study of space was astronomy, not astrology. When a boy in a green sweater had blatantly ignored him when he asked him to stop scooting his chair across the hard floors. When an entire group of people had continued to call him Logie even though he’d told them over and over he hated it. Many of them seemed to do it just because it annoyed him. This went on. Every day another simpleton would disrespect him. Every day he’d tell him to stop. Often he’d snap at them, or swear. That always got him snickers in return. And Logan found himself clenching his fists as his whole body burned red hot.

It happened again a week after this started. A boy with a Minecraft t-shirt cut him off in the lunch line, and when Logan told him to go to the end, the boy only scoffed and responded with “Are you in kindergarten?” in a tone that made his blood boil with how fucking snotty it was.

Logan’s hand was fisted in the back of that obnoxious t-shirt and pulling back with all its might before he could think.

The boy ended up on the floor crying, and Logan ended up suspended.

There were more incidents that year. Mostly yelling or swearing, but minor physical violence was not unheard of. It was common even.

Logan didn’t want that. He wanted to be cool, to drop the bullies and idiots with bullets of intelligence from his tongue, but everything he tried a witty comeback they’d give him either confused looks, no acknowledgement as all, or retort with ‘Your mom’ jokes, a sort of ‘insult’ that required barely a single brain cell to perform.

They never listened. They were stupid, childish, disrespectful. Logan stuck only to his three friends and the many teachers he’d grown quite friendly with, They liked him after all, he was precocious and that was something teachers always found fun. with adults, he also found he could make himself actually heard, his theories, ideas, suggestions, it was a glorious freedom he had previously only had with Patton, Roman, and Virgil.

But things didn’t get that much better.

In fact, in seventh grade Logan found his outbursts getting worse. They were farther and fewer between, but the eventual rage that would explode was far worse than before. It was like the dam that held back his rage had grown stronger, but that meant it took more water to barrel it over, and that sent far more devastating floods down the peaceful valley of his mind.

In eighth grade, he got into a fistfight with a boy who had called Roman gay as an insult, not knowing that it was true or that the word should not be used in such a manner. When the boy refused to listen to Logan’s explanation of what the word meant and instead switched tracks to scoffing every time he said it was a normal and perfectly acceptable, beautiful thing. And by the time the midget of a bigot tossed in the dreaded f-slur Logan’s mind was so crimson he only felt a rush of relief when his fist connected with the boy’s head.

It was two weeks of suspension for that. And it was during that time that Logan’s mother revealed something to him that he had never expected.

Tales of his childhood-or babyhood rather, where he had exhibited strange behaviors no other parent seemed to have seems.

“I think you might have Aspergers,” she had said.

And now, here he was. He couldn’t believe it had taken her this long to tell him of her suspicions. But now Logan was sitting on his bed, the blanket covered with constellations, staring at the cover of a book.

It was a familiar scene.

But this wasn’t a book chosen by Logan’s own hand, or by the school, or even a recommendation from his parents or a loan from his younger sister Abby.

It had been gifted to him by the man at the Autism Center.

The Asperkid’s Secret Guide to Social Rules.

He’d read the whole thing.

Before, he’d thought he was just awkward.

But no. Of course it couldn’t be that simple. It wasn’t that he just didn’t know that w to say. He was. missing an entire way of communicating that people his mind now knew as ‘neurotypicals’ spoke in without realizing it.

The secret language. Body language, facial expressions, tone, he knew that all existed yes..but he’d never seen it. At least not in the subtleties the book described. And all these double meanings of phrases? So the dark-skinned girl who had asked him what he was reading during math class didn’t want to just read the back and learn Sherlock Holmes’ latest mystery? She’ wanted to get to know him?

Why didn’t she just say so!

It was so much more complicated now. The vague, yet simple term of ‘weird’ was replaced by the vast, yet specific, confusing, and multifaceted word that was autistic. A word he’d never have expected to apply to him. Mental health went really a subject he’d looked into, feelings were too wound into it.. and feelings had always been his greatest vice.

So now, with that book in his hand, he thought.

There was a whole other world he couldn’t see..that’s what he had been missing all this time? was the specific shifts in tone in posture people made-what he’d always thought to be absently-something his parents expected him to understand and that was why he always seemed to have to be elbowed when running his mouth?

It was like….like telepathy. Yes, to Logan, the cues he now found himself putting extra effort into finding; his sister’s slightly hunched shoulders at the dinner table, his dad’s slightly turned up nose when he mentioned his history teacher, were a sort of telepathy that the ‘normal’ population all shared. But it wasn’t as if it was that simple. Of course, it was tauntingly, agonizingly complicated. You see, these people were all telepaths, sharing cues in an invisible tongue-and yet, none of them knew they were telepathic. And yet still, they all expected everyone else to be.

So that was why he was strange. Logan had looked up how much of communication was non-verbal - he felt his eyes go wide when he saw the percentage dedicated to ‘body language’.

Fifty-eight percent.

What else could he have missed?

Logan was both happy and uncomfortable with the diagnosis. He now knew terms, words, blessed reasons for his little ticks, why he felt like something was terribly wrong for at least an hour just because he’d had to take an alternate route to school (routine disruption), why was such a picky eater (finickiness caused by sensitivity to textures and certain flavors/smells), why people always responded with confusion whenever they saw him pepper the science teacher with question after question, challenge after challenge like he was trying to understand how the universe wove itself in the span of five minutes, and looked surprised when Roman asked him if he knew why Patton was being quiet. Logan had responded with a simple no, informing the other that Patton hadn’t told him-and when the slightly taller boy had suggested that he ask, Logan realized the thought had never occurred to him.

Most importantly, it explained what Roman had dubbed ‘The Fitness Fiasco’. To sum it up, Logan had thought of a new game for their groups to play in gym class—something besides basketball for once in their lives, and yet as he tried to explain, the girl who seemed to have taken charge of the group he was trying to explain the idea to kept talking over him, ignoring him, challenging what he said—and the noise. The noise, how all the chattering and the sound of balls bouncing on the floor, the rage he felt at being slighted in this way, how it had attacked him. How he’d suddenly found himself tensing, wanting to run or to yell, unsure which, how the sound turned solid and pressed in-his muscles going taut, his hands twitching with every word from the students mouths, how his arm violently jerked away as Patton tried to comfort him- And then the scream. He’d screamed at the top of his lungs for quiet, falling to the ground and sobbing in the fetal position—eyes screwed shut behind his glasses and hands clamped tight to his ears, unsure of what was even falling from his mouth aside from the fact that he was begging, begging for silence. It had only quieted a bit as people turned to stare, and then he’d felt hands on his shoulders, ones he jerked away from—but no one knew what to do. Virgil’s low whispers for him to breathe, to use the 4-7-8 method that the emo always used to calm his own panic attacks, was only met with more incoherent begging for silence. It had been Patton who rescued him, who brought the teacher over and ended up guiding the sobbing Logan to an empty classroom. There he had been met with silence. There he felt his terrified bawling turn to weeping with relief. In the silence, he’d recovered, his muscles lost the tension, and he allowed the freckled boy to wrap him in a hug.

He’d only been able to call it a panic attack before. But now he knew the term. Sensory overload, brought on my the noise and the stress.

It had been a relief just to know that. To know that in moments when he stood among too many people, feeling his muscles clench as their shoulders brushed his, that his hands should not go out to push them away, but to his ears, to block out the trigger.

It became a cue, when debates with Roman got heated—they were friends after all, if rivals as well, and it was understood that if Logan’s jaw suddenly clenched and his hands went up to cover his ears, they had to pause for at least a minute.

But of course, knowing where the holes in his social skills were led to Logan compensating, and it didn’t..always feel natural. He found himself staring at people, trying to read their faces, for a little too long on many an occasion, or overreacting to something because he’d overanalyzed the tone. He found himself having to bite his tongue on many an occasion to keep himself from simply explaining why he did what he did to his parents, who would only take it as making excuses.

It was a balance of the good, the bad, and the ugly. He understood now that his all-or-nothing attitude was why he found himself simply not doing projects if he couldn’t grasp the material—and this led to him having to more often than not, swallow his pride and ask for help when he was getting frustrated. Yet the same black-and-white philosophy got him gasps of shock from Roman when he explained that, in the story Roman had been iterating to him, the whole second half of the plot could have been avoided if Leealli had simply decapitated Sorcerer Kai while they were trapped in her dungeon. Roman had protested, saying it would make her just as terrible as they, but Logan had frowned, explaining that yes, the act was cruel, but if a single act of evil by her direct hand was all it took to stop countless others by her indirect hand, wasn’t it worth it?

But he had also been the one to convince Patton not to remain friends with Oliver, when one day, sitting on the cotton candy clouds that patterned Patton’s quilt, the smaller boy had confided in him that Oliver had vented about his habits of self-harm to the kind soul for three hours the night previous, yet refused any help Patton gave, shot down any attempt at saying he was worth more than he thought.

It was Logan who had took Patton’s hand and told him that people like that could only be helped by themselves and a therapist, that he should not take it upon himself to bear others’ problems in that way. Who had given him a hesitant hug and told him that his mental health was just as important as theirs.

His friends were his lifeline. Maybe they tripped him up—well, they definitely did, yet as much as he found himself apologizing to Virgil for seeming angry when he was simply tired and being a bit blunter and more insensitive with his words than usual (not that he usually was tactful or sensitive when it came to criticism, even constructive criticism) he found himself sighing in relief as the anxious boy shared with him his own experiences in worrying about the negative undertones in the words of others too much to be considered healthy. They would sit and talk about it, the same experience for two different reasons, one of them due to the irrational fear of people disliking him or being angry, and the other due to worrying he was doing something incorrectly that he was not aware of, failing to pick up on a crucial piece of information.

As much as Logan found himself and Roman butting heads, even shouting at each other during friendly debates gone sour, name-calling and snapping fault after fault, he reflected fondly on the time he had been ecstatic to discover that Roman’s own ADHD-riddled brain hyperfixated on Disney just as his own did on Sherlock, and they would both go on for hours about their obsessions while sadly recalling how old interests had faded.

As much as he often found himself hurting Patton unintentionally, and even worse, learning that Patton had been hiding that fact from him for weeks as to spare his feelings, as difficult as it was to convince (well, more plead with) Patton to tell him these things, as he wouldn’t be offended much and he had no other way of knowing what he was doing wrong, he found himself sitting by his side, all attention completely fixated on what to him were mindblowing truths about people and yet seemed common, boring knowledge to Patton, as the freckled boy explained cues and rules, that invisible language Logan did not speak.

Those friends stuck by him, even though others did not. With all the walls Logan had built up around his emotions, to protect himself and others, few could breach the fortifications—except for those who had already been on the inside as he built them. And he was fine with that.

Going to a therapist was...awkward at first, but it helped. Mr. Picani understood his aversion to talking of his feelings, and instead cleverly tricked him every time, asking questions about events until Logan was off on an angry rant. With that expelled, they’d talk through possible solutions.

He kept the book. And most of the other books he was given on the topic, eager to learn and understand more things about himself, knowing the reasons behind behaviors, quirks in things had always been one of his favorite things, and now he found it was possible in people.

As Logan worked through his discovery during the last semester of eighth grade and through that summer, with his Virgil, Patton, Roman, his parents, Mr. Picani, and occasionally even his rainbow-haired little sister, he found his mind shifting. He was truly calm now more often than not, able to express his rationale...well, rationally, rather than through insults. His debates grew calmer, and while he certainly had his slip-ups..he was improving. Slowly. Steadily.

His viewpoint of the world was unusual, like an outsider, and while that could be isolating, if he explained it well, people were often interested to hear it. It was different, his own; the metaphor Logan found himself using was that everyone else was a Macintosh computer, and he and his fellow spectrumites were PCs, capable of all the same things, though in ways the world was not wired to accommodate. Also, clearly superior in many a way.

His core programming was different, even if his exterior seemed the same, and Logan was okay with that. He’d never know the invisible language, not as a native would, but he could learn it—the same way he learned slang, through help, a lot of online research, his friends, and some study notes here and there.

It was complicated, they way he figured things out, the systems he’d devised. But complicated problems would never be solved with simple solutions.

And he still had plenty of time left to learn.

(Thanks to @poisonedapples for betaing this and basically screaming RELATABLE every two second, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear!)

(...I don’t really have a general fic taglist so imma just- y e a here)

Tags: @royallyanxious @whatwashernameagain @sandersmarvel @the-incedible-sulk @supremestoverlord @hanramz-the-fander @childhood-wishes-and-dreams @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @madly-handsome @galaxy-warping @extremist-water-agenda @ierindoodles @princeanxious

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