#no I'm not a system but I'm a psych student and I happen to know multiple systems | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thisgirlnamedblusy · 8 months

Note

Hioooo!, I've been thinking if you could write about Laurel's perspective of how little by little she falls completely in love with reader-teacher. One day, the reader does not visit her in the greenhouse, as always happens. Marylin (laurel) worries. She looks for it and finds a reader nearby Long devastated. Someone rejected her and laurel comforts her

Lots of fluff. Please.

Yesss!!! Here it is!!!! I hope you like it!!! Sorry about the delay and the language mistakes!!! :)))))

I can't love an outcast (but I do)

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/Laurel Gates x Fem Teacher! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, slightly smut mentions (implied), Laurel’s POV

Word count: 6,470

Summary: I’m Laurel Gates, but she doesn’t know it, I love her, but she’s an outcast, it’s supposed to be forbidden…

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

The alarm clock rings and another day begins. I get out of bed, take a shower and look myself in the mirror. Getting psyched up for another insufferable day teaching those monsters was getting easier. I only have to think that soon it will end, that they will disappear.

When Larissa Weems hired me to teach at Nevermore it was a relief and a disgrace. Inside the school things would be much easier, but also stressful. Every day I live with all my enemies, with people who were involved in my brother’s death, in my family’s death. Weems herself witnessed his murder, and here I am, ready to make all outcasts pay for her unforgivable mistakes. I know it's a matter of time, I just have to hold on for one more day, one more week.

It hasn't been hard to fool everyone. They don't seem to care about anything about other things than themselves. I feel like a kind of test, a test to see if normies and outcasts can really live in peace. No, I don’t think so. When Larissa explained to me how good it was that I was there, I could see a pathetic attempt to cleanse her reputation, to put Nevermore as some kind of coexistence paradise.

I don't mind being the only normie on staff. The dismissive looks and inappropriate comments from the rest of the teachers only fuel my thirst for revenge, my desire to see them all burn.

In the mirror there is only a blurred reflection of what I really am. Marilyn Thornhill, the sweet and innocent botany teacher. Everyone treats me like an idiot, but that's because they don't know what I'm capable of, that just means I've done a good job. In the mirror I see Marilyn Thornhill, the poor little orphan girl who some people found wandering in the woods. But I know that I can never be Marilyn Thornhill, because I’m Laurel Gates.

I leave my room and start walking through the halls, oblivious to the looks of contempt from what were supposed to be my co-workers. I will never understand why they think I’m an intruder, an enemy. They are evil, they were born of sin, they only serve to harm. They believe their very existence is a miracle, a divinely bestowed power from some kind of mighty god.

They were just lies and falsehoods invented in order to explain their own existence. I know it, they don't.

Students disgust me, they feel immune, victims of a system that doesn't want them. Perhaps if I told them about my childhood they would realize that they are the executioners, that they are the ones who cause suffering. I can't do it, I'm just Marilyn Thornhill. When the bell rings, the class ends and I can finally breathe.

I have a plan, one that I've been thinking about for over ten years, when I decided that revenge was the right thing to do, that it's what my father would want, what my mother would want, just like my brother. Debating with myself about whether it is what I truly want was a matter of seconds. "Duty is not questioned, it’s fulfilled," my father used to say.

Once the conservatory is empty, I can start working. I have spent half my life studying plants, I was always an exemplary student, the best young scientist in the town where my adoptive parents raised me.

Knowledge is might, and with that I could make my dreams come true. I already knew where to find it, the essential tool I need to resurrect my ancestor. He’s going to be the purger of all that scum. I don't like getting my hands dirty, that's why the Hyde idea was the best one.

Unlocking it was going to be tricky, but not impossible. That boy, Tyler Galpin, was perfect for it.

“Hello, hello, hello,” a voice that came from the door interrupted me.

It was not a student who had forgotten his belongings, but one of my co-workers, (Y/N). She was the young literature teacher, and an absolute pain in the ass.

“(Y/N)…” I answer, with a hand on my chest. She always had a habit of turning up in the conservatory by surprise. As much as I knew, I've never gotten used to it.

“Hey, Marilyn, how about the beasts? Did they behave well?” She asks, with that damn smile.

I smile, I can't do anything else, I'm Marilyn Thornhill.

“As always, at least today I've been able to talk for more than five minutes without interruptions,” I say, setting aside the chemical that would make the sheriff's son obey my orders.

She laughs, like always, and she watches what I'm doing curiously.

“What are you doing? Homemade tea?” Funny question.

I don't understand how such a happy person can exist in that horrible place. (Y/N) is not like the other teachers, she is full of vitality.

There has to be an exception, and in this case, the exception was (Y/N). From the first day she came to Nevermore, she was interested on me. She is not like the other teachers. It seems that she didn’t care about my normi condition. It was strange, that girl was strange.

She came to the conservatory everyday to chat about classes, or about personal stuff. She seemed to have no filter, maybe she was just a confident girl.

I don't prefer the contempt of the other teachers, but her attitude wasn’t good to me. She’s beautiful, the most beautiful girl I have ever met. She is funny, smart, cheerful...

Under normal circumstances all those attributes were good ones. But I'm on Nevermore she's an outcast, and I'm Laurel Gates. That she was that way just made me feel weird. I'm not made of stone and I always liked girls. But she couldn't attract me, she was an outcast.

My heart pounds when she appears, contradicting my own thoughts. If she's not there, it's easy for me to dream of the destruction of that abomination of an academy, of seeing the faces of all the outcasts screaming in horror, of seeing my ancestor taking revenge on everyone, of avenging my family.

If she is present, those thoughts become complicated. My head is not capable of imagining her face terrified. At first it was just a fleeting thought, now (Y/N) is able to distract me so much that I even forget who I am.

“Well, you can make tea with this, but I don't guarantee that you will continue to keep your eyesight,” I say amused. She nodded, waiting for me to tell her what I was doing. She was always insistent, she wanted to know everything. “It's for the aphids plague,” I'm lying. She is too innocent, she believes everything I say to her.

“Oh… Okay…” she sighs with a mocking tone. I raise my eyebrows and smile, removing my gloves.

“How are you? Did you get them to read Beowulf?” I ask, pretending to be interested in her. At least I'm holding on to the belief that I'm really pretending. Pretending to be pretending is a mental storm which makes me feel dizzy.

She sighs, leaning against my desk and shaking her head.

“Only two have read it, the rest have said that they preferred to watch the movie. You know, they do whatever it takes to see someone naked on TV,” she answers amused. I let myself go and laughed sincerely, leaning next to her.

“Teenagers,” I say, sighing too. She looks at me and nods effusively.

“Were we so obsessed with sex at their age?” (Y/N) asks. That kind of conversation made me somewhat uncomfortable. (Y/N) always said what was on her mind. I know I shouldn't worry, or start shaking at those words, but I do, my body is weak.

I open my mouth to say something, but I don't quite know what. Joking has always been an easy way out for me.

“I don't know, you're closer to their age... Maybe you can have a better point of view...” I say with a mocking tone, giving her a nudge and taking the tray with the herbs out of her reach. I know she doesn't have a clue about botany, but it's better not to take risks.

“Hey!” She protested. I smile, knowing that this was going to be her reaction. “Well, I guess you're right…” She sighed, bowing her head. “I can confirm that I'm not like that, I don't know how long I've been without...”

“Well, well, I don't need to know, (Y/N),” I say, preventing her from saying something that would make me even more nervous. She smiles mischievously, she knows that those conversations aren't my favorites. It's not that I don't like talking about sex, but with her I feel incapable, I start to sweat and my thoughts get confused, imagining aberrations that would never happen.

“Hey, Mari, I have a plan that you can't refuse for tonight,” she says, radically changing the subject. I cover the plants with a cloth and look at her with interest and a little fear.

“A plan?” I ask, crossing my arms.

(Y/N) always had a plan, something to do together. Having coffee in Jericho (which is especially useful for me when analyzing Tyler), watching a movie in her room, or sitting on the roof drinking a bottle of wine, usually looted from the principal's office.

I can't say I don't like those moments, in fact, I wish they would happen. The problem is that laughter and alcohol make me forget what my duty is, what purpose I have. My mind is clouded when I'm alone with her, talking, laughing, and drinking. We have so many things in common that, even seeing how she uses her ice powers, I doubt she's an outcast. If she really is, why do I think she's just an ordinary girl? Why don't I see evil in her actions? That only happens to me when I’m with her, no one in the academy can make me forget what they are, and what I am. Only (Y/N) can.

(Y/N) reaches into her bag pulling out what looks like a videotape. I frown and take it from her, looking at it curiously.

“Is that a VHS?” I ask, hiding my laughter. She nods amused.

“Yeah, oh, sorry, I forgot that in your time they didn't exist yet,” she says, mocking. Well played, (Y/N), you always know how to counterattack.

“How funny you are, aren't you?” I answer, causing her to stick out her tongue in amusement and wink at me. “Planet of the Apes?”

“Yes, it’s one of the cinema’s masterpieces. I thought you might like to watch it with some popcorn, we can even order some sandwiches at Andy's and skip the dining room. Really, if I hear those beasts yelling again while I'm eating, I don't know what I would do…” (Y/N) answers.

I shake my head slowly, agreeing with her. She wasn't the only one having such thoughts.

“And besides…” she says, putting her hand back into her bag. “Tadaaa… Haverst of 84,” she says, showing me a dusty bottle of wine.

“Oh, my God, (Y/N), don't tell me where you got it from,” I say amused, imagining the answer.

“Come on, try it,” she says excitedly, waving her arms.

She is sometimes so childish, and other times so adult. She is in the limbo of maturity. She surely is not clear what her future would be. I know what it would be, and it's not a good one. Thinking about it should make me smile, enjoy the ignorance of those poor fools. But with her I can't do it, I can't think straight when she's next to me, with that damn smile.

That's a very bad thing, something I've been avoiding ever since I met her. Sometimes I wish she was just another stupid outcast, that she ignored me, that she didn't even know my name. Many of the teachers don't even know my name, but no one really does. My name is not Marilyn Thornhill, my name is Laurel Gates, and you are all going to die.

But I can’t do it. My thoughts are unable to ignore her looks, her smiles... It can't be anything more than simple curiosity or interest. I have been fighting against my heart for a long time, silencing the screams that keep me awake at night, when I dream of her. No, I don't love her, I haven't fallen in love with that silly girl. It is impossible, something unacceptable, a sin with terrible consequences.

“Let's see…” I say, pretending to think of an answer.

“Come on, come on, tick tock,” she says impatiently. Is she never going to stop putting on that smile?

“Weems’s office,” I say, sure of what I say. She stops smiling and her face becomes that of a little girl, almost pouting.

“You're always right…” she sighs, picking up her bottle again and putting it in her bag.

“Because you always steal Weems's wine. If she catches you, rest assured that you'll be left without a salary,” I say amused, patting her on the shoulder.

“Oh… is she going to freeze my salary? You get it, freeze… Badum tss…” She says, moving her fingers, emphasizing her pathetic joke.

I laugh without feeling like it, but the more I think about it, the more funny it makes me. She doesn't have the power of ice, she has the power to make people laugh, to make people feel good next to her. Yes, it has to be that, that's the reason for my ramblings. She's an outcast, and she uses her charms to persuade people, just like that girl did to Garrett.

“You're the queen of comedy, (Y/N),” I say laughing, trying to pretend that her joke didn't make me so funny.

“So? Do you want a night of classic movies and some insane barbecue sandwiches?” She asks enthusiastically. I think so, I really think so. Laurel Gates' answer was always a resounding no. But now I'm not Laurel, I'm Marilyn, and she would always say yes.

“Sounds good to me, (Y/N), but I don't want us to stay up all night like last time. It's hard to handle poisonous plants when you're sleepy,” I say, with a warning face. She smiles and nods.

I don't know what I'm thinking. Fraternizing with the outcasts was a red line for me. Their hatred and their resentment towards me was the perfect excuse to live a solitary life in Nevermore, so no one would pry into my affairs. Naturally, (Y/N) was not in my plans.

What am I doing?

The sound of the video running brings back memories to me. Memories of when I was just a happy and studious girl. The pride of Ansel and Nora Gates. I remember watching movies with my brother, when we were just kids. But not everything was happiness. My brother used to turn up the volume when he heard my parents screaming downstairs.

My parents often yelled at each other, I never knew why, until Garrett was old enough to do "what he was supposed to do." Then everything changed. Movie nights ended and they were replaced by fanatical sermons from my father. In them he made us see the danger represented by the outcasts, the injustice they committed with our family. I didn't think things were as dire as my father wanted us to see, until Garrett died. Then I saw it clearly. He was right, the outcasts had to disappear.

“Here, your double of meat with salad,” (Y / N) tells me, taking a sandwich out of a bag, while the movie began.

“Where's the salad?” I ask, looking at the food and thinking about my health.

“Oh, I think I saw a piece of lettuce at the bottom of the bag, wait a minute,” (Y/N) says, reaching into the bag. I gesture for her to stop her disgusting feat.

“Okay, okay, it doesn't matter,” I say amused. She shrugs, and finally, silence falls.

It could be another night like others, but there was something different. (Y/N) was as usual. I know that she is an inveterate cinephile, and she takes advantage of any situation to tell me some curious fact about the film. That was always so. Also her erratic and disastrous way of eating and drinking, as if she had been starving for a month. I should find it disgusting, worthy of what is expected of an outcast. But I smiled when I saw her, her nonsense amuses me, I’m enthralled with her gaze.

I can't stop thinking that there was nothing different that night, that it was simply me who had changed. My body is touching hers and that no longer made me nervous, I felt comfortable next to her.

A sob interrupted my ramblings. (Y/N) had tears in her eyes. I look at her confused.

“(Y/N)? Are you crying?” I ask with a certain tone of irony in my voice.

She wipes away her tears and shakes her head.

“No,” she answers with a sob. “Well, yes… It's just that the main character's love story is so beautiful…”

I look at her strangely.

“You mean the relationship with the slave?”

“Don't you think it's super romantic? She doesn't even know how to talk, but she still loves him. Can't you see, Mari? They are from completely different worlds but the love is the same…”

I open my eyes wide. I don't want to get into a debate about love stories in movies. My mind is too busy fighting with love.

“Actually, they are in the same world, (Y/N),” I say funny. She crosses her arms with a smile.

“Great, Mrs. spoiling movies, thank you very much,” she says, pretending she didn't know the ending.

“How many times have you watched that movie?” I ask, taking a sip from my glass of wine.

(Y/N) looks at the television, as if she was waiting for something.

“I can't count them, but…” She says, getting up from the sofa. “Oh my God... I'm home... I'm back...” She begins to say, synchronizing with Charlton Heston’s voice. “I have returned to my home… I was at home the whole time… So they finally managed to do it… You maniacs! They blew it all up! You maniacs! Go to hell! Does that serve as proof?

I look at her and laugh at her interpretation, closing my eyes. She is silly, childish, cheeky, but so funny. I wonder what a life would be like with her constant jokes, her jokes and her smile. What it would be like to wake up every morning and see that smile in my bed, next to me. I shake my head, embarrassed by those thoughts that flashed through my mind.

She sits down again, as the credits begin to appear on the screen.

“Well, as I was saying…” She says, sighing, exhausted by such a dramatic performance. “It’s not that they are not from the same planet, Mari, but that within the same planet, they belong to totally different worlds.”

I listen to her with interest. I want to know what she is talking about.

“What I want to say is that… Well, do you think that love can arise between two totally different people?��

The million dollar question. It might seem like a hint, since she looks at me almost without blinking. I can't find the answer. I have always been in love, but never with someone so different, someone forbidden to me, my enemy, the reason of my miserable life.

“I don't think so, (Y/N), surely the differences seem absurd, but in the long run they only create problems.” That is my cold and meaningless response. To agree with her would mean accepting my feelings, accepting that I like her, that I’m in love with her.

Denying it is nonsense. I've been repressing those feelings for a long time, pretending that I don't think about her at night, that I don't say her name when I caress myself. It's just a passing sin, or so I think, but the idea of her unconditional love opened a very deep hole in my barrier, a barrier that stood firm, overshadowing any feeling that wasn't hatred towards her.

She no longer smiles, her gaze drops to the floor and then I realize the mistake I've made. If it wasn't a hint, maybe it was a doubt she had due to her youth. She will suffer the same fate as all outcasts, but in the bottom of my heart, it pains me to have let her down.

“Well… I guess you're right…” She says, getting up to turn off the video.

I look at her and notice her lack of a smile. It should amuse me, but no. Seeing her sad confuses me, makes me feel bad, guilty.

Back in my room I keep reflecting. Everything is ready, the serum for Tyler is ready. All my plan is about to start, but I don't think about it. I think about (Y/N), about how an outcast makes my nights an ordeal. She is an outcast, a monster born of sin.

I wasn't a novice when it came to loving an outcast. My brother Garrett fell into the same trap. That girl, Morticia, had him crazy. He was no longer the same. My father would beat him and yell at him for being soft, for having fallen into what he called demonic temptation.

He was only 17 years old, but for my father thought he was already a man capable of fulfilling his duty. The punishment for falling in love with an outcast was not whipping with the belt, not a week of punishment in the dark closet, but something much worse. He would have to be the one to finish off the outcasts, he would kill the girl he was in love with.

I can't think of a worse punishment. But once again, love was to blame for his misfortune. He only had to do one thing, poison the punch. An easy task in my opinion. If I had been older, I would not have hesitated. Of course I didn't feel anything for an outcast, as he did.

Instead of carrying out my father's orders, he went to kill his enemy, this Gomez guy, Morticia's boyfriend. That led her to his death. Love only served to confirm the innate wickedness of the outcasts. They were not capable of loving, only of harming. I should have learned that lesson, but little by little, I've been falling into the same trap.

I feel love for (Y/N), and less and less anger. I wish I hadn't met her, I wish I didn't make the same mistakes as Garrett made.

The days are passing and I’m beginning to accept my feelings. She seems a bit more distant. I wonder if that's because of the comment I made that night. Deep down it's still the same, but she doesn't get so close anymore, as if she were afraid of me. She should was, of course, she wasn't talking to Marilyn Thornhill, she was talking to Laurel Gates.

It's seven in the evening and there's no sign of (Y/N). I move around in the conservatory, watering the plants, reading some of the students' works... But she doesn't appear.

She can't be mad at me, I'm the one who's mad at her for making me feel love for an outcast. Still she worries me. A habit as common as going to chat in the conservatory was something that I already took for granted. I don't understand why she doesn't come, and above all, why I'm mad about it.

I jerk, bang my fists on the table. I'm nervous. I don't understand what I feel, I don't understand why I want her to come to talk to me, why I want so much to see that smile, why I'm so crazy about her.

An hour has passed and (Y/N) has not come. I can't wait any longer, I must accept that the outcasts will always play with you. Once I have accepted that I love her, she has moved on from me. I wonder if Garrett went through the same thing.

Maybe my father was right after all.

I close the conservatory door and go into Nevermore’s building. I want to forget everything that has happened and get used to the idea that this foolish crush has only been a temporary temptation, an attempt by the outcasts to dominate me and subjugate me to their charms. Typical of them.

I go down to the library, I have to look for necessary information for my plan. I try to keep my legs from shaking and my hand from picking up the phone and writing her a message. The room is empty, but a sob scares me, catches my attention. It directed me to the source of the sound to make a disturbing discovery.

(Y/N) was there, sitting at a table, discreetly crying. I look at her, she still hasn't noticed my presence. Seeing an outcast crying should be pleasurable, but it wasn't. It was painful, my whole body trembled and my chest contracted.

“(Y/N)?” I ask whispering. She looks at me with teary eyes, but she looks away.

“Mari…” She whispers. “Go away, I want to be alone,” she tells me. I frown, but I ignore her, I go to sit next to her.

“What's wrong ?” I ask with the purest innocence. It's Marilyn who asks, not Laurel.

“Nothing,” she says. She is lying to me, I know.

“You don’t know how to lie,” I say smiling. She also smiles and nods.

“I had a date…” She says, looking around her in case there were any unwanted ears.

My soul collapses in that instant. She has been on a date, with someone else. Definitive proof that she was just playing with me, even without realizing it. Poor things, they can't help it.

“A…? A date?” I ask, my voice shaking and fighting the rage building inside me.

“Do you remember Mindy? The girl from Jericho…” She tells me. I nod. According to (Y/N), Mindy was a waitress who seemed to have generated an interest on her. But she told me that she didn't like her. Now I don't understand anything.

“What happened?” I ask again, clenching my fists tightly under the table.

“Well, I told her that I wouldn't mind if we tried it and the stupid girl tells me that I've been confused, that she only wants us to be friends,” (Y/N) says, sobbing.

The pain I feel at this moment prevents me from seeing things as the way they are. She didn't feel anything for me, and probably she never did. I was so convinced that there was something between us, partly because of that I didn't feel so guilty for loving her. My hatred for outcasts grows to the point where I wants to have a button to kill them all in that instant. But no, I have to remember who I am. Marilyn Thornhill, not Laurel Gates. Marilyn Thornhill is good, Marilyn Thornhill is not in love with (Y/N), or so I think.

“Oh, honey…” I say, hugging her lazily, feeling how contact with her body was not a good remedy against my disease. “I didn't know you had feelings for her...”

“Well, it's not like I have feelings… It's just…” She says, holding on to my clothes, resting her head on my shoulder. She hugs me out, soaks my clothes with her tears. It is not pleasant to see her suffer, it is heartbreaking.

“Is it just what…?” I insist. I want to know why that stupid Mindy was so important to her. I need to know, it's something I'll remember when Crackstone is resurrected.

“I thought there might be someone who loved me, who felt something for me, but now I see that no. I don't understand why no one likes me...”

I open her eyes as I rub her back.

“That's nonsense, (Y/N),” I say involuntarily, cupping her face with my hands, looking directly into those beautiful eyes. “Listen to me, you are a pretty, smart, funny girl. If that Mindy doesn't love you, she's losing it. I’m convinced that there are a lot of much better girls wanting to have something with you,” I say with a smile. Inside I'm dying, but not me, but Laurel Gates. Marilyn Thornhill is good, understanding, she is not a murderer, she is not a woman who has lost her mind over an outcast.

“Do you think so?” She says, sobbing, letting my hand caress her cheek. I feel her tears on my skin and they don't burn, it's not acidic, as my mother used to say to scare me. They are real tears.

I nod, pulling her back into a hug. I can't help but close my eyes and feel guilty for believing that her body’s heat is pleasant. She cries inconsolably, not letting me go, just saying stupid things, like she'll never find love, or that she's ugly. Stupid outcast, you're devilishly beautiful.

The time she was crying on my shoulder flew by like a rush of air. Soon her movements changed, shaking her body and… Laughing?

“(Y/N)?” I ask surprised, moving away from her a bit. Yes, she was laughing out loud. I look at her blinking rapidly. Now I'm confused, I admit it. “But hey, can you tell what makes you so funny?” I ask somewhat annoyed by that change of attitude.

“It's that if you knew…” She says, stopping laughing, with tears in her eyes. “I'm not crying for Mindy, Marilyn, I'm crying because she wasn't the indicated one…”

“The indicated one? Indicated for what?”

“To forget about you!” She shouts nervously. I step back, open my eyes. I’m speechless.

“About me?” I ask, feeling a lot of emotions building up in my guts.

“Yeah, fuck!” She snaps. She seems angry with me, and I don't know why. “I like you since the day I arrived at Nevermore!”

It wasn't a tender confession of love, it was a desperate cry, a call for attention.

“Didn't you realize it?” She asks, pushing me angrily. “I'm in love with you, Marilyn, I don't care to say it, since I know you would never be able to reciprocate.”

“But, but…” I say, almost out of breath. That was not the direction the conversation should take. She shouldn't feel anything for me. She was just playing with me, tricking me with her cheating and outcast machinations. She couldn't feel love, she couldn't feel anything, I knew it, my parents knew it.

“You idiot…” She says quietly. I lower my eyebrows, not because of the insult, but because of that unexpected revelation. Outcasts didn't love, she had to be lying and I'm willing to find out how.

“But, (Y/N), I, I'm older than you… I couldn't imagine that…” I say, overwhelmed by that information. I cannot tell her that I am Laurel Gates, that my family and my duty prevent me from loving her, because they could not. I love her, much to my regret.

“Is an age thing? Or is it that I’m an outcast and you are normi?” She asks, getting up from the table. She is very nervous, it starts to get cold in the library. “You said it the other day, different worlds cannot come together, you made it very clear to me.” The question on the movie day was serious, she was testing me. I don't know if I feel relief or discomfort.

“(Y/N), calm down, let's talk things over,” I say, moving my arms up and down. She turns and has her back to me. She must have been feeling a terrible shame, but she was firm in her words. She wasn't lying, she wasn't trying to fool me.

My world began to blur and my legs moved by themselves. I walk towards her, sighing, feeling a strange emotion. I lift my arm and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her around so I could look into her eyes.

(Y/N) cried, sobbed, but she didn’t take her eyes off me. I bring my hand to her cheek, wiping a tear from her face. I don't talk, I don't say anything, I just struggle to breathe. Having her so close to me overwhelms me, overwhelms my senses and nullifies my thoughts, my conscience and all my values.

I will not have another opportunity to find out, to know if her lips are fire, if my skin would burn to make contact with hers. She is beautiful, I’m an idiot. I sigh, moving closer to her until I feel her ragged breathing. She looks at me and I close my eyes. My lips kiss hers and nothing happens. I'm not burning, I'm just shaking.

I've been trying to suppress these images in my head for so long that I couldn't imagine feeling this good. Her lips are soft, tender. Her hands go directly to my waist, hugging me, preventing me from moving away from her. I don't want to do it either.

I caress her, looking at her with pity, but not for her, but for me. I have fallen into her trap. I'm kissing my enemy and I like it, it just confirms how in love I’m with her.

The kisses deepen and she stops crying to smile against my lips. I smile too, enjoying her kisses. She kissed me slowly, enjoying the sensation. I let myself to be caressed, I hug her, I kiss her neck, I run my hands over her chest...

(Y/N) pulls away, looking at me lovingly, like she's feeling the same thing I am.

“I love you…” She whispers in my ear. Her happiness is evident, her radiant smile and her increasingly effusive kisses. She loves me, now I know. I love her, and I've always known it. There were no ghosts in my thoughts, no Ansel Gates yelling, threatening, forcing me to hate her. It's just her and me, no one else, no witness to my profane act, to my loss of judgment.

I nod and look at her closely. Up close she is even more beautiful, more tempting. At that moment there is no Laurel Gates, she does not love Laurel Gates. Her hand moves down to mine and she drags me toward the stairs.

I don't say anything, she doesn't say anything.

We walk through the halls, dodging students, teachers, and kissing at every corner. I didn’t know the destination, but she did. The door to her room creaked open and the slam resounded throughout the school.

There was no reason to hold back anymore. I had already sinned, there was no solution.

I go crazy with her kisses, with her caresses. Her gasps intensifying as she removes her clothing. I admire her body as if it were that of a goddess, that of a divine being. She wasn't, she was the devil, an evil creature.

I pray for her bed breaks when we both fall into it. I dream that somehow something would interrupt our passion. I couldn't stop kissing her any other way. Her kisses were addictive, her touch was hot and her gasps kept me steady in what I was doing.

There was no hate, no rancor, just love, just desire.

There were no explanations, only moans, kisses, hugs.

I feel guilty when my kisses cover her chest, her stomach, her belly…” She moans, moves, growls, screams. She's releasing a tension I didn't know existed, a desire I wasn't supposed to have.

I no longer listen to the voices in my head, the ones that threaten me with a punishment from God. I only have her body under me, away from it there is nothing, nothing that makes me change my mind.

I moan when she touches me, like my skin really burns from her touch. It's a nice, cozy, warmth. Desire had gotten out of control. I no longer had my plan in my mind, I just wanted to be inside her, and her to be inside me.

We both scream, kiss, and finally collapse on the bed. She hugs me, she lies on my chest. I wrap my arms around her, hold her tight against me. I don't want her to leave, I don't want to stop feeling her body.

It hadn't even been ten minutes and (Y/N) had already fallen asleep. It must have been a difficult day for her, and I don't blame her, mine had been even worse.

An unconscious fear begins to invade me. I'm afraid of burning, of consuming myself right there for my sins. I tremble and hug (Y/N) even tighter, closing my eyes, waiting for a punishment that never came.

I feel stupid, but still I can't help but think that this could have consequences. It was like those people who don't believe that an evil entity appears in your bathroom at night when you say its name three times, but still refuses to do so. It was the same feeling.

Nothing happens. There is no divine punishment. I sigh and look at the sleeping (Y/N). Her face is peaceful, calm. There are no regrets, no guilt. She is free because she is (Y/N), she is not Laurel Gates.

I need to refresh myself, clarify my ideas. I get up, careful not to wake her up, and go to the bathroom. I turn on the faucet and stare at the water. My mind is blank, I’m unable to think of anything else than her.

I had gone to Nevermore for revenge, with a specific purpose, to kill all the outcasts. That includes her, that's for sure. I can't help but have doubts, feel like I'm not doing the right thing. That I could lose her even if I saved her life. No, she could never love Laurel Gates.

I still have time to disobey my family's orders. I've been postponing the Hyde stuff for several days, always with poor and meaningless excuses.

I turn off the faucet and sigh, leaning over the sink. There is no answer in my thoughts, just love, just pity, compassion and redemption.

I look in the mirror and finally realize it. (Y/N) loves me, but she doesn't love Laurel Gates. I love her, being Marilyn, being Laurel, that doesn't matter, what matters is that she loves Marilyn. The small detail is that I want to kill them. There's no difference between Marilyn and Laurel. But, the more I look in the mirror, the clearer I have my decision. I no longer see Laurel Gates in the reflection, I only see Marilyn Thornhill.

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #wednesday #ms thornhill #oneshot #laurel gates #fluff

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shummashum · 5 months

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Since I first got into this game in Feb 2023, I've somehow managed to watch the story from Season 1 to Season 5, from Elias Goldstein to Mel Glover (thx youtube)

So? I'm going to write some reviews about them

1. 13-day System

The main story, from Season 1 to Season 5 (hereinafter Previous Seasons), takes place during Liz Hart's period as a provisional student at the academy

The story consists of a total of 12 days + 1 ending day, of which Day 11 is divided into 3 parts... Exposition, Complication, Crisis, and Climax — everything has to be done in 11 days

Therefore, the narrative flow of previous seasons is bound to go relatively shallow

This is where problems start to arise

The so-called fateful love or love at first sight tends to occur in a short period of time, and as WH Sekai is a world where magic exists, relatively dramatic developments can happen... But how many people can reveal the backstories buried deep in their hearts to someone they've only known for a few days

Of course, Solmare must have known about this. So what was suggested as the solution was...

"The World of Images" (I mean 心像世界 but I don't know how to translate it properly)

It's simple: it's difficult to unravel the character's mystery and develop the main plot in just 11 days, so let's uncover the hidden truth and emotions through The World of Images — interactable landscapes that reflect the psyche!

I'm not meaning The World of Images itself is a bad thing; if used well, nice and dramatic results can be achieved. But I felt The World of Images of previous seasons was so focused on conveying hidden facts and backstories that it didn't really touch me

That "time travel" in Klaus 1 route was not bad at least. Honestly the keyword itself feels a bit out of the blue, but I'm somewhat satisfied with it because the foreshadowing itself exists (I'm not telling about the quality)

But the way I see it, the problem starts with Azusa

The World of Images began to unfold under the name of 〈Time to explore a parallel world with a mysterious butterfly!!〉, and I guess the writer must have felt that this was really good to use, she(he?) started using it for everything including Joel, Vincent, Leon, Glenn, etc…

Although it disappeared in Season 5, the description of learning all the hidden truths at once in a short period did not change — and it was the biggest problem, dammit

But this isn't the only problem

While the stories of Season 1 and Season 2 progress along the lines of individual desires, the keyword "world destruction" begins to appear in any form from Season 3 onwards. And we must remember that all parts of the story (except the Falling Action) have to be completed within 11 days

Can a story that deals with the destruction of the world in 11 days be of good quality? I cannot give a positive answer to this

Come to think of it, in Season 1 and Season 2, where Luca and Azusa act as villains with their individual desires, the world will continue to run fine even if those two achieve their goals. Even if Luca gets the Dragon Eye / even if Azusa gets the unicorn horn, there will be no change for ordinary people not related to them

But signs of the destruction of the world began to appear and… At this point, I cannot help but think the plot is going too far

(And if it's a matter of the world's survival, shouldn't the Ministry of Magic handle it? Why is Liz, who is just a provisional student, solving everything? Why is the Ministry so incompetent huh)

Aren't these problems ultimately a limitation of the game structure itself, the 13-day system. There are bound to be limits to unraveling the increasingly large main plot in a short period of less than two weeks, and in the end, the backstories are revealed as if running out of time, and it becomes difficult to get immersed in it

Is it not so? I feel somewhat detached

As far as I know, from season 6, it is divided into Chapters instead of Days. Of course, even if it is a chapter system, the amount of story for each character won't be very different from the 13-day system

Still, wouldn't the quality of development be better if the time passing within the story was longer

And I heard that the story of Season 6 continues beyond that, so maybe much deeper developments that require a lot of time will be possible (please tell me I'm right)

2. Reviews for Each Season

Season 1: The Tower of Sorrow

tsundere(tm) + playboy-like + curse/eyepatch/transform… classic classic

Elias was the one I played the first. He was the character at the top of the list, and I wanted to watch the story from the beginning. But it was 100% tsundere from shoujo manga in those days so I was a little freaked out (it's not that I didn't expect it though)

btw why is he like that on his route when he's like a trustworthy friend on other routes. how much pressure did he feel about his grades and so on, I mean it's understandable though

Yukiya was honestly great, I say his story is worth reading. A bit of a cliche, but reminded me why clichés are used: provide a stable taste

However, it is a bit disappointing that the settings regarding his curse are not unified. It's not a curse but just a contract with Seth in the main story, so why did it become a curse in the sequel?

And the villainous, Luca

I interpret him as a character who is unable to withstand the discipline that restricts him in any form because of being locked up as a child, and who longs for freedom but feels only emptiness even in a "freedom state" that arises from ignoring the rules

Okay, this is good... But I was scratched and I don't know why. Luca in Season 2 onwards is a great supporting role, but Luca in Season 1 keeps scratching my mind and that bothers me

Season 2: The Spring of Unicorn

This is my favorite and the reason is clear

Klaus… What do I need to say about him? His story tasted very familiar; the plot goes exactly according to the standard of shoujo manga (It's not that it doesn't taste good though)

Eh… actually I don't have much to say. I liked that there was a bunch of Azusa's villain behavior. Hmm

Randy, I mean Serge, was definitely great, his story is also worth reading

I think the true protagonist of Season 2 is Serge; The tangled events of Season 2 are centered around him, and in the timeline where Liz is connected with Serge, Season 2 comrades eventually find some comfort at least!

But one thing I can't agree with is his catchphrase, "There is no failure or right or wrong answers in magic." Isn't it a bit weird for someone who lost his best friend to a "fail" of magic to say something like that

Erm… I don't know

And another villainous, Azusa

This must have happened:

A: Now let's make up Azusa's route

B: But isn't deceiving and taking advantage of Liz a pattern that has already been used with Luca

A: Hmm… now that I think about it, you're right

C: They say young kids these days like spiciness! If we add some capsaicin, it'll be good

A: Let's fucking go

But they fumble while rolling the dice

To be honest, I don't like this kind of shallow salvation. I like the flow of emotions colliding with each other, but smashing "twisted love愛 built up over years" with "romance恋 built up about 10 days"? Well…

And Solmare, please, why are you eager to justify him okay I got it I understand he has his own reason (and I like the reason) but please please don't I don't want this asshole to be labeled as "just a poor guy with a broken heart" please??

oh well

Season 3: The King of Fairies

A: I'm tired of one of the romanceable characters being a villain. Let’s make the main antagonist a non-romanceable character!

So the fairy king Oberon appears

Joel was honestly quite good… I like that kind of damn personality. The argument between Joel and Eress was very funny, I really like it when those with a damn personality fight childishly

btw his concept was the forgotten childhood friend, he's bound to lose every time a new romanceable character comes out then... he suits BSS so well omg

In my personal opinion Vincent's visiting student concept is fucking ×3 unreasonable and stupid... In other stories except Season 3 (as far as I know), he appears as just a Ministry of Magic agent 1. And it was much better that way honestly

And Liz is so helpless in his route!!

okay, it might have been to highlight Vincent's attributes as a knight… but I don't like it

and raising a baby dad? What the fuck is this It's fucking ×3 creepy omfg

If there's anything worth noting in Season 3, it's related to Leon: All of the events in Season 3 happened because of Leon's actions, but he doesn't act as an antagonist

Personally, I'm not a fan of those "teaching emotions" stories, but his happy/unhappy endings are fuck dammit Those saved his whole story I dare say, his ending was the global maximum of the previous seasons

Season 4: The Princess of Crystal

Season 4 feels similar to Season 1 and Season 2? There was quite a bit of the story that unfolded in the classroom, providing glimpses into the narrative of a Season 1 comrade as well (such as Yukiya being despised by his classmates), and the formula of a romanceable character taking on the role of a villain was applied too

Cerim was, well, I thought he had quite a damn personality because he stabbed Liz in the neck with a wand in the preview… I was a bit surprised that he was nicer, milder, and more normal than I expected

But! I don't agree with making him confess, kiss, and propose first while giving him that insensitive attribute

Guy was quite good, I enjoyed it

But on one hand, it feels like the full potential of his story was not revealed because he was with the positive queen Liz??

I mean, a genius pretending to be an ordinary person ← This is a very good element to stimulate feelings of inferiority you know... Liz just thought "Oh he's awesome!" and moved on, but think about how he would interact if paired with an ordinary person with an inferiority complex

Yeah?

But!! I was very, very disappointed in Glenn

I honestly had really high expectations for this story, but why the fuck did the story unfold like shit. Why did that fucking rabbit suddenly jump out, why were they recklessly delving into his backstory with the necklace he dropped without his permission — besides it's just ridiculous, it was revealed so hastily. Why on earth do they let me know nothing until Day 10 and then say it all at once on Day 11-1 hello??

And I was dumbfounded watching Aster vanished with that fucking song

wait what WHAT Is this the end? Seriously? What will happen to Guy if we get rid of Aster like that? Oi? You guys are taking away his chance to untie the knot in his heart like that? Is this right??

Uh… Anyway, it was a bit disappointing, I didn't expect the climax would be this unremarkable

Season 5: The Sol Maiden's

Looks like Solmare made a big decision… because in Season 5, the main instigator behind all this only appears in the final route

Leslie was easy to watch, he had no hidden story at all, plus I like his damn personality

But all the stories were Leslie is amazing~ Leslie is awesome~... eh seriously

Sigurd was, actually, I saw a review about him before starting his route: "The writing is sick, but the plot is shit."

After reading the whole story, I really understood what it meant… I really don't have anything more to say than that

Mel was, what can I say… Wasn't he a nerd? Why is he acting so sly

Mel's route provides an answer to the question of why the villain did not appear in the other routes in Season 5. Kate, the villain in Season 5, was gathering power from all worlds, and her plans were foiled by Liz in other timelines so she couldn't reveal herself… that was the case

I didn't think Kate was a villain because she appeared with too much villain vibe. Since Mel showed an uncooperative attitude in Sigurd's route, I thought Mel would be the antagonist and Kate would act as a helper... But she WAS a villain (duh)

What? She has the ability to cross alternate realities? You just throw such a big fact without any foreshadowing? Are you insane Solmare

Well, I did like the twist that the voice of the magic tree that was continuously heard was actually created by Kate (I saw through it in advance though — I didn't trust the tree because it didn't teach me how to help; it just fucking complained about needing assistance)

And please stop with that damn transformation gimmick PLEASE why do you guys keep changing Liz's clothes like a magical girl, dammit it's not cool at all, it's just stupid as fuck

3. Overall Review

I really think these stories in previous seasons have potential. They could definitely become a highly stimulating and delicious story if it were done a little more… but it doesn't work out that way

And why the FUCK are they already getting engaged after just meeting each other. Is this how all Gen Z live these days? Or am I just fucking narrow-minded

Erm... I decided to look forward to Season 6. It'll definitely become more interesting since the cataclysm occurred. Right?

#wizardess heart #maybe I'll post my impressions while playing S6 and after... because why not #I'm going to dive into Zeus' route as soon as I post this btw

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aix12279 · 1 month

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Biological Approach in Psych!

So, you may or may not know that when studying psych, there are multiple different approaches to how you look at behaviour. By approach, we mean how you explain the why of that behaviour.

There are three main approaches (at least in IB psych lol), which are: sociocultural, cognitive, and biological approach. If a person is being very, very aggressive in a classroom, and you're looking at their behaviour through a sociocultural approach, you'd be like "oh, the thing is, this person grew up in a very violent community and so their sociocultural context has made them violent"; if you were looking at their behaviour through a cognitive approach, you'd be like "oh, no, the thing is, this person has biases in their decision making which causes them to make violent decisions"; and finally, if you were looking at it through a biological approach, well... that's what'll be explained in this post :D

WHAT IS THE BIOLOGICAL APPROACH?

The biological approach says that our behaviour is all thanks to, you guessed it, ✨EVOLUTION✨, but more specifically it's also because of the genes that you inherited from your parents, how your brain is built and the lil chemical thingies that happen inside of your brain (this is where dopamine comes in LMAO)

There are three main principles that the biological approach is based on:

Behavior is a product of physiology. By physiology here we mean like the physical structure of your brain, like, quite literally, if your frontal lobe got chopped off by a wild ass animatronic, your behaviour will change, who could've thought?. There are two ways in which physiology may be a problem: structurally and functionally Structural problems mean, for example, your frontal lobe is literally too small which is why your IQ is 10 lmao. Basically, the physical structure of certain parts of the brain is damaged and therefore the functions that that specific part of the brain that is now damaged did are not being done. You can't bake a cake if you don't have an oven, and you can't solve 2+2 if the math smarts part of your brain ain't exactly there. Functional problems mean that the structure is there, the oven is there, it's just... not doing the thing. There could be low levels of activity in your frontal lobe, so, your frontal lobe is like there, it didn't get bitten off by a wild ass animatronic, but it's not doing the thingie it's supposed to do, or maybe your hormones are all in a whack which means that even thought your endocrine gland (the organ in charge of the hormone thingies) is there, it ain't really doing anything, or rather it's doing it wrong

Behavior can be genetically inherited. This is kind of self explanatory tbh, but it basically talks about how patterns of behaviour can be inherited from one generation to the other because the structure and the function of the nervous and endocrine systems (go back to principle 1), which determine your behavior, are technically determined by your genes, which are technically inherited from your parents

Animal research may inform our understanding of human behaviour. Humans are still sort of animals, so, we share a lot of genes with other animas, and that means if we can understand the behavior of other animals, understanding our behavior might be easier

AND WHAT ABOUT BIOLOGICAL APPROACH?

There are many topics which go under biological approach, but in the IB (sorry guys I'm an IB student and this is literally the only way of studying that'll go through my brain😭) all the topics fall under four big categories: The brain and behavior, hormones and behavior, genetics and behavior, and lastly the HL topic: The role of animal research in understanding human behavior.

Here I'll make a list of all the topics and I'll link them one by one as I make the posts about them :D

Localization (Brain and Behavior)

Neuroplasticity (Brain and Behavior)

Neurotransmitters and their effect on behavior (Brain and Behavior)

Techniques used to study the brain in relation to behavior (Brain and Behavior)

Hormones and behavior (Hormones and Behavior)

Pheromones and behavior (Hormones and Behavior)

Genes and behavior, genetic similarities (Genetics and Behavior)

Evolutionary explanations for behavior (Genetics and Behavior)

The role of animal research in understanding human behavior (HL topic)

Tbh I'm doing all of this to help myself understand the concepts better; Feynman technique and all that LMAO, I'll probably be doing flashcards on the topics and the studies related which I'll then share with each topic. Hopefully this is helpful for any other IB or just psych students in the world.

Have a good life<3

#international baccalaureate #IB #psychology #psych #highschool psych #IB psych

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thundersyst3m · 6 months

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long rambling and ask

sometimes i question whether or not i have ossdd/did considering i tick a worryingly amount of boxes (scorew 88/100 in a clinic self screening test) but I don't have the talent of being able to put specific words and names to those parts of my psyche. apparently i used to have a system but i was also in a chunibyou phase of my life - even if dissecting my different clashing personalities into boxes helped me to cope and survive. even if it seemed like an occult fantasy. i wonder how i could experiment my identity as a system considering i feel like there are multiple me nowadays, even if i "fused" before, when i stopped partaking in this sort of roleplaying. so here are the current me's

there's me, the model student who gets nice grades and studies at home

there's me, the mute athlete and stranger who doesn't speak to strangers ever since he got too overwhelmed with his internship

there's me, the outgoing part timer who works hard to keep a smile to customers, has sass and is enjoyed by his co-workers

there's me, the girl loved by her parents but hides painful secrets

there's me, the man who wants to play video games and be nerdy but still wants to dress in cute clothes

and sometimes where i change the me's, i forget what happened. im terrible with recalling things and i tend to talk to myself to pep myself up, or imagine my comfort character comforting and hugging me.

im aware you're just a Tumblr user and not a licensed therapist, but what do you think about it, as a system?

Well there's many things it could be, it could be just being multi-faceted with other things that can cause horrible memory issues, but it can also be a osdd system! As u said i'm not really a therapist and also i am not you or know you, so it's uneasy for me to tell you what you are, you know? If i were you, i would do some more research, and really look at the experiences of systems, and then do the self-dx based on that, self-dx is valid as long as you do your extensive research and don't exclude yourself from recovery, go for it! :3

#thunder asks #Anonymous

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dino-nugget7 · 10 months

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TW: This post is going to be about my experiences as a teacher. This is going to include discussions of covid, child abuse, workplace negligence, and sucidality.

Well, got back on this lovely little hellsite for the first time in about 2 years yesterday. I left here around the time that I had decided to leave teaching. I talked a bit back then about how horrifically oppressive the school system is to students (which is still something I'm pissed about) But I wasn't ready to talk about a lot of the other aspects of the system that disturbed me. I thought I had bipolar disorder because I went through a severe depression and the meds I was put on to cope with that put me through a manic episode which was in some ways scarier than the depressive episode. I haven't had an episode in either direction since leaving. I mention this so you understand how fucked my situation was even if you don't read any farther. I do hope someone reads farther though even though its gonna be a depressing read because I need people to know how horrific it is to work in education, especially rural education.

So here's an exhaustive list of every fucked up aspect of my time as a teacher:

1. Within the first few weeks of being a teacher, a student confided in me about being beaten at home. Of course, I reported it and a few days later the caseworker assigned to that student informed my colleagues and I that the state did find evidence of violence against the student but that it was leaving the student in the home "because the student was 17 and had a history of drug use so there would be no foster families willing to take him." The student was beaten again to the point of ending up in the hospital and the state locked up his stepfather for a few months but left him in the home again with his mother who had let said abuse happen. This is not the worst case of a student experiencing violence at home and not being removed after we reported it that I witnessed. Just the first. I was powerless to help any of them because the safety net they were supposed to have outside of us when horrific shit happens, just...wasn't there.

2. As discussed before I left, I realized that even though I happened to have liked school when I was in, its fucked up how micromanaged every second of the day is for students and how they have no say over what they are learning about. Its fucked up that they are trained to be blindly obedient and forced to stay in spaces and interact with people that cause them suffering.

3. This is pretty specific to the fact that I was in a student self-paced rural alternative school but I was the only science and health teacher both years, the math teacher my first year and the art teacher my second. In a class period with 16 students, it was common for students to be working on 7 different courses. Which would have been fine, I had experience in college running that class structure, but I had no textbooks, no lab materials unless I bought them, very few math and art supplies, and I had to make all of my lesson materials and all 20 curricula from scratch because the curricula I had been handed by my predecessor had been written in 1993 and never updated. Between teaching, meetings, grading, curricula building, classroom upkeep and lab setup I was there every day from 5 am to 7pm at least and often also came in for a few hours on Saturdays.

4. When Covid hit and we all went remote, I spent every day staring at my own face on a webcam for 7 hours because none of the students showed up at all to any of their classes despite us calling the parents we could reach every day and sending emails every day. A few students completed a couple of assignments early on over email but even that didn't happen after a while. I didn't blame them, I know a lot of them were trapped in hell being stuck at home and the rest considered school hell but it fucks with your psyche to spend 35 hours a week forced to stare at yourself on a screen on the slimmest chance someone will show up for 2 months straight.

5. On the last day of school my first year, a parent called and yelled at me about her daughter not getting a science credit and having a 10% in my class. She claimed I never reached out. I pointed out that her daughter refused to do work in my class long before lockdown despite every effort on my part, which she(the parent) knew about based on previous conferences we'd had about this very behavior and forwarded her every email I sent her over the course of lockdown with work she could have done and links to my class zoom meeting if she'd wanted face-to-face help and pointed out every phone call we made. She went to my principal to demand an extension for her daughter into the summer which my principal granted so I got to spend Even More Time staring at my own face because Surprise surprise, her daughter still didn't show up or complete any assignments but I didn't recieve further berating from that parent about it at least.

6. When we went back to in person teaching I was the only adult in the building who took the mask mandate seriously so my classroom was the only one where students were wearing masks at all and I had to fight them tooth and nail about it because my roommate's son was immunocompromised and could not afford to get sick but because I was the only teacher fighting that battle, it got harder and harder instead of easier and a lot of students I had built good relationships with the previous year started to hate me for being so strict and I had to go get that test where they shoved a swab all the way up into your sinus cavity every single week until the vaccine came out. When I opened up to my colleagues about the stress this was causing me and why I cared so much (which I really didn't feel like I should have had to justify in the first place), they told me to "relax about it, kids aren't even the ones dying," entirely ignoring that I was in direct contact with a kid who could have, in fact, died from it. This was the straw that caused me to put in my resignation.

7. All of the above put me in a mental state where I had to call a suicide hotline and take an emergency few days off work because I couldn't physically get myself out of bed. I got put on those meds that made me manic but they take a few weeks to kick in at all and I contractually could not take that long off and couldn't have afforded to do so anyways so still in full-blown suicidal depression, my first day back was Parent Teacher Conference Night, which is exhausting and terrible at the best of times. My principal knew I was mentally unwell and had told me if I needed any accommodation as I readjusted to let her know so I asked if I could sit out conferences or at the very least have someone else in the room with me since the school was so small that every teacher had every student. She said no, that it was a privacy issue (which was untrue because we did whole-staff parent meetings All The Time for students with particularly concerning behaviors and because again we all taught everyone and had daily staff meetings about student progress and concerns so we all knew everything about everyone but even so she could have been the one to sit with me) I pointed all of this out and she told me, "Well being a teacher isn't about you, you have to put the students above yourself." When I had been doing that nonstop for two years to the point that I was in the mental hole I was in. I was in such a fucked up place that a lot of the parents noticed it and tried to check in on me as I started falling asleep or forgot what I was saying midsentence.

8. When I did my exit interview at the end of the year my principal told me that I was a great teacher and she hoped I'd return to the field someday even if it was in a different setting because students deserved someone who was constantly the voice in the room advocating for them even when their own parents and other teachers stopped doing so. This was the first meeting I ever had where I was told I was a good teacher rather than being constantly told what i should be improving on as I drowned trying to even lay a foundation for myself.

Despite everything it still breaks my heart to realize it will never be healthy for me to go back to teaching even if I was in a district with better supports because of how much trauma I've been left with and because of how jaded about the entire system i am. I loved the teaching part of my job. I loved those moments where students showed me projects they were proud of and when they finally understood concepts that had them stuck. I loved empowering students to make positive decisions and to come out of their shells in my class. I loved when I managed to create lessons that hit that learn something-have fun sweet spot. I loved when I was able to let students incorporate their real interests into what we were learning or even let them be the experts on a topic. I still have art students gave me. I know despite it grinding me down to a husk of myself, I was good teacher and I could have eventually been an excellent one. Its true that Teaching is more than a job, its a calling. But I'm no use to anyone dead.

#i had a therapist during all of this and she didnt even have any advice #she just kept being like yeah thats a fucked up situation and being Not Okay is the normal reaction to being in the middle of all that #also i lied this list wasnt exhaustive #i didnt even talk about the bomb threat that happened or the fuckery I learned about on the district level #and this of course also doesnt touch on the gender dysphoria and family rejection i was facing for being trans #or the fact that i was living in a homophobic antiatheist town as a gay atheist

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organized-chaotic-disaster · 5 months

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I feel like doctors should learn something similar to what psych students learn about the therapeutic alliance/relationship

Now I admit that I'm no doctor, nor am I training to be one, and I'm actually not even going to school to be a counsellor or therapist, but psych students, depending on the classes they take, do learn a lot about this topic, and I feel like it's a really important topic in a lot of caregiver-patient contexts. But, since I've never stepped foot in any medical school or anything, I don't know if they are teaching doctors this stuff! I just feel like people, doctors and patients alike, should know about this idea for their own benefit

Anyway, back to the topic at hand:

We so often see people talking about how they feel ignored or belittled by their doctors, like their doctors don't take their problems seriously (we all know the common "have you tried losing weight?" question, often targeted at AFAB people but I imagine AMAB people get their fair share of that unfortunate interaction). I had a recent experience where I felt like I couldn't get a word in edgewise with a doctor at a walk-in clinic! That should not be happening!

And YES, I understand that working in the medical field is awful, it's hard work, it creates burnout and overworks people to the extreme. Those are, unfortunately, large-scale systemic issues in the field as a whole, so there's not a whole lot I can say there since I'm talking on a more individual level

But, being in a medical setting, it's extremely important for doctors and nurses to be mindful of the people they're treating instead of making their patients feel like they aren't being heard or taken seriously

Which brings me to the therapeutic alliance/relationship. I'll explain briefly what it is, but here's some sources in case anyone wants/needs any:

Psychology Today

National Library of Medicine

The therapeutic alliance is essentially the relationship between the client and therapist, and there's elements to it that should be present for therapy to be effective. From the National Library of Medicine article above, there's 3 generally agreed upon elements that should exist between therapist and client: bond, agreement on treatment goals, and establishing a collaborative relationship

I feel like having a bond-type of relationship probably isn't as important in medicine, depending on the situation, especially in the context of walk-in clinics and hospital settings, but I feel like it's not too much to ask for an agreement on treatment goals and the establishment of a collaborative relationship

These things have been shown to improve treatment, make it more effective! And at the end of the day isn't that the whole point of medicine?

From what I've seen, a lot of people feel like doctors often look down on them and patronize them. Like doctors don't think patients know what's going on with themselves. It feels like a really unbalanced power dynamic between doctor and patient, which, at the end of the day, just leads to frustration and unnecessary suffering on the part of the patient due to lack of effective treatment. I think that, by establishing a collaborative relationship, this power dynamic can be (hopefully) avoided to some extent, which can lead to an open discussion on what treatment goals should be

At the very least, treating your patient like an equal (like what a collaborative relationship would hopefully lead to) and explaining to them in clear and easy to understand terms why you're choosing a particular treatment plan would be appreciated. Otherwise, patients can feel frustrated and confused as to why their doctors aren't considering other options

I know there's some great doctors out there! There's some amazing doctors! But I hear too often (and experience too often) doctors that don't consider their patients as someone to work with and give off the impression that they don't think their patients know what's going on with their own bodies. And that needs to change

#therapeutic alliance #therapeutic relationship #healthcare #doctors #medical field #I know I Went Off for a bit but rarely do I feel like I have an Opinion I can feel Confident enough with to express #and feel like I know (on some level) what I'm talking about #just bc like. mental health treatment is at the end of the day a medical thing #so I feel like the considerations for the relationship between caregiver and client should be similar if not the same #I've been frustrated too tbh bc I've had an infection for like a month and the dr at the clinic I went to seemed to have written me off #before I even walked into the room with him. it was requested to me that I get a swab done for my throat bc the infection wasn't going away #and he hardly swabbed it— I'd had one done earlier this month (at a different clinic) and they did a thorough swab #the guy just seemed very dismissive too. even tho I'd had this infection for a month and it was causing me a lot of pain #like I said I couldn't get a word in edgewise #I haven't been able to see my friends this month except for once bc I thought I was finally getting better #and it's been awful for my mental health #I've gotten desperate to understand why they can't do anything if it's not a bacterial infection even if it's sticking for a literal month #so that clear and open and respectful communication would be really really nice tbh #anyway sorry for venting in the tags oops #just been thinking about this #hope this post receives well lmao

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eulchu · 3 years

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listen i fully agree with you. twitter is just a cesspool and it's best for people (not just creators, the fans too) stay off of it tbh. I'm not gonna pretend dream is perfect, but he sure isn't the person the internet makes him out to be. Controlling 23 million people that have just introduced themselves to you in the past year is literally impossible. I do like how the trend today, however, is trying to be used to lift up black creators. That's the best use I've seen of one of those things ever. The rest of it is just gross. And the situation with Karl genuinely upsets me. The boy didn't do anything. Literally the internet just wanted to bully an energetic, neurodivergent dude because he's not exactly what they want him to be. When they couldn't find anything he actually said that would be "canceleable", they made him answer for other people's actions and made up conspiracy theories. I can tell Karl is super sensitive to the way he can affect people and the idea of hurting someone is probably his worst nightmare, so I was (and am) genuinely worried for him. He gets shit no matter where he goes. I feel like Dream at least has a pretty solid support system. I'm just worried Karl may not have the same thing. (Sorry for the long message, I just wanted to talk about this a little lol)

ohh where do i start!

1. dream is flawed! and there's nothing wrong with admitting it. everyone is. i'm not gonna lie, you know i haven't been into the dreamsmp for the longest time but from what i can see i really admire his eagerness to do better and apologize for the things he's done wrong VERY thoroughly (mostly. once he's cooled down. he's not very good at dealing with confrontation). i'm not gonna pretend that i know everything that's been going on since he rose to fame nor am i a black person NOR know enough american culture to understand the correlation between his tweet and the (unintentional??) racist undertone, but i will say that today crossed a line, overall. i agree it was nice to see the poc cc threads (that's the only good thing that happened today) but man...

not only as a neordivergent person but also (as of right now, days away from graduating) a psych student, the hate and harassment he got for the "normal pills" is ridiculous. i'm not gonna get into it because i could write another whole essay about it, so all i'm gonna say is: ridiculous. and from what i've seen that's usually how it goes? same thing with the pride merch! he only did it because his fans asked for it. he has the Trevor project permanently linked to his sm accs. he's donating a shitton of money and people still tried (and ARE trying) to cancel him because his intentions are "fishy". everything he does has to get twisted into something that wasn't inherently hurtful.

and god don't even get me started on the doxxing and harassment and body shaming.... and people making a joke out of it because it's just so fucking funny! isn't it? i'm glad he's taking a break. i would've quitted everything months ago.

2. about the karl situation, this is an interesting one - you see, the first member of the dsmp i took notice of was mr karl jacobs! unlike w the rest of the dsmp, i've known karl waaay before christmas. i always had a spot for him, back when i only knew him through corpse's videos. you can imagine how that's amplified since i found out he's part of the feral boys. it was actually videos of a call between tina and karl that caught my attention and eventually led me to a lot of dsmp recs. honestly? i kinda hate that karl's lowest moment was what made me notice this whole community.

i cannot stress how awful i feel about this whole situation. and all for what? to this day i still don't know what made people be so goddamn horrible and mean to the kid. i knew almost nothing about him, except that he was friends with corpse and had met up with sapnap, and i remember when i heard about all the awful things that had been said to him on stream i went on a rage rampage and turned into the control police in yt comments. it just... doesn't compute. people kept saying 'stop saying this karl stops eating when this happens' and everyone??? went 'good'???? what the fuck? how can you sleep at night knowing you destroyed someone's mental health. i was so worried i even sent him a dm on instagram. i don't send dms. ever.

i get what you mean about the support system and yeah, i feel like dream has a big thing going on with sapnap and george? like everyone's close with everyone of course but i feel like the three are ride or die. i do however think that for karl, that's sapnap too. just based off on his personality and his relationship with karl, i like to think that he's a very strong support system for karl too.

overall i'm so glad i got to know them and i love their content but i really really wish someone would get them off the internet. they're gonna be ruined by 25 if people keep it up.

#long ask you say :) may i interest you in a long answer #i'm sorry i totally ranted my way through this #dreamwastaken #karl jacobs #dream neg #karl neg #eating disorder tw #ask #kraken45

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thatgenderfluidrat · 2 years

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Uncertainty of mental illness

Dear Reader,

Trigger Warning (Mention of hospitals, medication, self-injury, suicidal ideation, and multiple disorders)

As you may notice from the title, I live with some mental illnesses. Ones that someday I triumph over, and other days keep me in bed all day. Mental illness is tricky. Sometimes it can be dealt with through good support systems, other times it lands you in an all too fluorescently-bright prison filled with uncomfortable plastic chairs and inedible food that you must force down your throat. This hellish prison is called a psychiatric hospital.

After taking my fair share of trips to mental hospitals and going from medication-to-medication, I'm finding myself in probably what has to be the most stable point in my rollercoaster of a life. I guess it's especially been crazy over the past few years after coming to terms with some not so pleasant things that've happened. Amongst those things, through the span of the past 9 or 10 years, I've been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, bipolar mania, PTSD, bulimia, and autism.

It all kinda just felt like the end of the world when so much shit had been happening. So those mentioned psych ward visits were from the years of suicidal and homicidal ideation, followed by about 10 years worth of self-injury. Funny enough, the reason I'm making this post is because on 12/09/21 I'll be giving a speech to school nurses from boarding districts as well as to my own schools district nurse about my story and dealing with self-harm and mental illness in students like myself. The idea is a bit scary when I think about the pressure I'll have on me to say the right thing. It's almost like I'm stuck between feeling like I'm leaving my mark on the world, doing a good deed helping them better understand this so they can help others, and feeling like it's not my place to say anything. I'm no therapist or licensed professional. All I can really say is I'm eager to try to help people in any way I can. Like maybe it'll give my life some big meaning or something.

Having said all of that, I'm uncertain if me trying to "help" will be in vain and accidently leave someone worse than when they started. I'm slowly recovering from everything that's happened in my life, but who am I to give advice if I'm not fully healed? More so, is there such a thing as "fully healed"? I don't know. I'm left questioning and those questions might always be left unanswered. I guess despite my twinge of worry and doubt in myself, I still want to try to help people. So dear reader, if any of this makes you feel any better, or any of my past or future post do, I'd love to know that I helped someone. May your mind filled with restless questions, as well as mine, be at ease for a while. So let's both take a deep breath, relax, and get some rest.

Signed,

Eli

Start Time: 12:21 am

End Time: 1:00 am

Date: 12/03/21

#life is uncertain #mental health #mentally ill #mind racing #too many questions #help people #disorder #tw suidice #tw depressing stuff #getting better #recovery #mental hospital #self healing #healingjourney #growth #purpose #understanding

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

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Broken Bones And New Homes

Clark has a surprise and you fuck up.

Masterlist

Warnings:swearing, injury, angst

A/n:so a little bit of fluff and angst

Broken Bones And New Homes

Clark sat back in his chair as Diana took the young girl to get settled and was fixed with a look from the others he sighed.

"She was still doubting herself she needed to see it for herself" Bruce spoke up first unimpressed.

"Yes but it could have gone down hill fast! What if it had pierced you! She'd never have forgiven herself or trusted anyone again!" Clark sighed he knew that Bruce had a point.

"But there was also another reason I was testing her as well like she did to you earlier ...did you see? She was holding back, even when she was angry she found the power to hold it back she didn't want to hurt me not for a second she just wanted to scare me...shes used to scaring people off. I wanted to see if she was truly wants to harm or not anger reveals your true intentions shes good through and through..." Arthur nodded

"He is right Bruce she held back it wasn't nice to watch but the kid did good tho... it was unnerving to watch her have that much restraint ....aren't teens meant to you know? loose their shit she held it together." Bruce nodded it was horrible in a way seeing the control she needed for herself Clark was right she'd had to grow up fast just like them but unlike them she will have someone there for her question was who, tho he had a guess already.

"So whose gonna take her Legally?"

"I will she needs stability, normality but still someone who can keep her in line can you get the paperwork done?" Bruce nodded smirking at Clark, looks like he was taken with the girl in a way they all were Bruce would take her in in a heart beat but with the others it wouldn't be a good idea so this time he will settle for being an uncle, doesn’t mean he cant tease the big man tho? Does it

"Your sure your not even letting anyone else what if I want to-"

"No I'm taking her, she will fit right in at home with me and konner, he has always wanted a sister to look after we can give her a family that she can relax around no offence Bruce but if anything would happen at the manor, your boys are strong but...." Bruce waved him off laughing

"I was messing with you,I know what you mean I will get on it first thing" Clark rolled his eyes at him, Victor pulled up her file on the screen.

"Whoa, her file is .....large shes been through.... to much I don't know haw shes so....stable Clark your gonna have your work cut out for you... how she hasn't already gone mad is beyond me." Barry came closer frowning

"She has a police record?" Victor nodded sadly scanning through the data quickly Clark got up coming over to them

"You found her file? When?" Victor didn't bother looking up at him just pointing to Barry

"He took her bag to her room when you had your little heart to heart and got her name y/n l/n birthday April seventh, born in central city moved to Gotham with her parents at six months old... Clark shes been through a lot its..."

"Tell me I want to know what happened." Victor side and continued

"There’s nothing until she was five when her parents died...police report says parents were only identified by dna because....."

"Because what?" Victor looked down then to Arthur everyone was tense suddenly Diana came into the room hear most of it so far she can gather whats they are on about.

"Bodies crushed beyond recognition, no teeth remaining for a dental record to be found, official cause of death was crushed by ceiling, flats collapsed due to breech in building regulations, no one was charged for it. Child found in flat had resided by parents bodies for three days before being found, no one knows how she survived but she was unharmed and thought the police were there to arrest her, she was under the impression she did it."

"She must have tried to save them and failed...that why she was frightened of the police" Clark summarized victor nodded

"That’s what she said in her report that she did it she couldn't stop the ceiling, after that there is nothing on the incident apart from information about the therapy she should under go and where they sent her. Children's home north Gotham on Presington street." Bruce swore

"Fucking hell that's a shit hole, been pouring money into it for years they were pocketing it as bonuses only went down for it three years ago two deaths to malnutrition" everyone winced things did not look good

"The next eight entries are from the weeks after, mental evaluations, says here she started hurting other kids in the home lashing out and became aggressive to staff, she claimed they were accidents that she couldn't help it that she had powers, they didn't listen until one kid ended up missing an eye... can understand it looks like a vicious attack"

"Probably bullying, it happens a lot to the new kids, if they attacked her then it'd protect her right?" Victor nodded to Bruce and sighed moving on

"They certified her had to drug her to get her out of the home, Jesus Christ they put her in a mental unit in Gotham general child's psych ward inpatient where she stayed under various levels of sedation for a majority of her time there until being released at ten years old showing no signs of instability or any indication she was a danger to herself and others a successful case. By law she couldn't return to the group home so she was fostered between then and a year ago shes had foster homes all across Gotham. Then a year ago she was on a trip with school doing a big beach clean up, it was a campaign the school was behind to help clean up the oceans? they kids were going to protest at Washington....never made it tho...it was when the atlanteans threw out the trash, oil tanker landed on her class's camp sight, two survived her and her student teacher....he said she had held it for around two minuets but most of the others were to scared to move the ones that did couldn't get out of the way and she passed out and well you can guess the rest.... no one believed him when he told them what he'd seen....he killed himself four days later. Since then its been petty thievery and some assaults, shes beaten up a few known drug dealers and gang members.... The police reports are mostly about injuries from dragging her back to foster homes three in the past year, seventeen in the past six, it was more frequent when she was younger, she under goes psychological evaluations once a year to see if her 'schizophrenia' is coming back. But that it" Diana covered her eyes rubbing the bridge of her nose shaking her head at the humans stupidity.

"So they told her she's mad? For four nearly five years they locked her away? made her believe she was crazy? And drugged her" She leaned back feeling sorry for the girl she'd been put into a brutal system at the most devastating time in her life, shed had to deal with it alone. Bruce sighed he knew Gotham wasn't the best place for an orphan... but that seemed harsh even to his standards.

"She hid it to seem normal, so she could get out of the hospital no wonder she so guarded she had to outsmart Drs and psychiatrists when she was a child" everyone spoke apart from Arthur he sat there fists clenched seething."Arthur! what happened you couldn't have known" he growled he knew that, there wasn't anything he could so but still it irked him knowing that it had happened, that shed tried to save her class mates from his people-his brother and hadn't been able to.

"I know....I know that but that is what triggered all this again isn’t it? That’s what made it come back stronger and now she cant control it? The reason shes been on the streets...And I was here laughing and jokeing around with her? When she knew it was me-my people who did that? How she didn't fuck me up right away I don’t know cos if it was the other way around I would have" Barry sighed before speaking quietly.

"Well doesn't that show she doesn't blame you? I mean we all knew that something big happened so I don’t think she blames you... she had every chance to blow up at you about it when she explained a little herself but she didn't..I wouldn't worry." Clark nodded agreeing with Barry then continued.

"Be there for her now, if she wants to talk she will.." Arthur nodded letting out an angry breath that was all he could do now, be there for her.

"Clark could you go check she's in bed I gave her half an hour to have a shower and be in bed by" he nodded hearing the others all start making their way to their rooms deciding to call it a night. He slowed opening the door poking his head in he smiled seeing you curled up in the blankets not asleep yet but near enough he quickly shut the door. He was determined to become the father you needed he would talk to Konner tomorrow about it, he would be happy having a little sister but Clark would have to explain to his son what was going on with her before introducing them...And his mom he will need her help.

"AAHHH!" You screamed bloody murder when there was a excruciating crunch then you slammed into the floor, tho it was softer then it should have been your head struck it hard with a bone cracking force, you groaned laying there sobbing and gasping as your arm head and ribs were in agony, seeing blood, you cried harder heaving and panicking when your vision went fuzzy then heard the door be all but ripped off its hinges and saw someone you didn’t recognize, he looked around a year or so older then you black hair, blue eyes. He kneeled beside you then looked up inspecting your arm wincing there was bone....

You woke up stretching and yawning it had been three weeks since you got here...and things were pretty sweet, you had a comfy bed free reign of the kitchen and a private bathroom. You hadn't really trained with the others yet just a few practice sessions that ended reasonably well most of the time you'd read, using various books to help you understand what was possible then sort of felt your way about the place and kept to yourself as much as you could which wasn't much as you found they all wanted you to feel welcome....It was hard not to become close but you kept saying to yourself it was temporary despite what Diana had said Clark hasn't been near you since the first night, only popping in briefly then off again for days on end it didn't give you much hope for the future.

But you assumed by now they all knew the story so you cant blame them, no one wants to be around a mad meta-human so its understandable...not that your mad at least you didn't think you were just gifted and confused. You quickly threw your hair up out of the way ignoring your thoughts, you’d rather not fall into that little debate again for now, wanting to just get your powers under control and get out of here before you get to attached. Taking your current architecture book, this you was using to find different types of structural systems which is the strongest and most reliable ect and made your way to the training room, today you were testing something out...A theory you'd been working on basically you wanted to make some stairs see how many things you could hold at once.

You opened the door to the room you’d been working in. It was tall and must be about ten meters across each way not the biggest in the watchtower but it was enough for you. You placed the book at the door open on a page depicting floating stairs. It should be easy just platforms from the walls big enough to step on you flared your power feeling your way around then took a deep breath to the side stretching out a hand to the wall, metal with concrete behind it, you started moving one foot up pulling a platform from the wall then another above this continued until you was a fair height you opened your eyes looking down you’d made it half way up the tall room you smiled it had worked!

You jumped for joy then moved faster paying less attention trying to force it on auto pilot climbing higher you faltered a little the next step was a little uneven, it looked tilted and .....iffy you gulped looking down only now realizing just how high your were you slumped back against the wall a little nervous, maybe you should have had someone in here with you but hindsight was 20/20 staying still for a few moments you took deep breaths collecting yourself, that was enough you thought you turned placing both hands on the wall completely freaked out as you made a slow descent making sure two feet were firmly placed on each step before you moved to the next as you went down the stairs you got maybe eight steps then all hell broke loose.

A few fell away as you panicked but tried to breath through it only for more to slip back into the wall in your addled mind you panicked watching the steps one by one collapse you made a snap decision and made a leap of faith crying out as you smacked your ribs on it making you try and scream you couldn't make a sound winded , you scrabbled on the step flailing legs trying to find purchase your eyes widened watching as the rest disappeared then the one you held crumbled away you screamed pulling at the ground to help but in the confusion you only smashed a few pillars into you one clipped your waving arm

"Shit shit hold on y/n, I'll get dad just stay here okay? Don’t-don’t go to sleep okay?" He dissapeared then returned seconds later with Clark Diana and Barry close behind. Clark swore seeing your crumpled form running to sit beside you, he didn't need his x-ray vision to see that you'd broken your arm as it had snapped and was sticking out crudely at an odd angle he sat by your head stroking your hair whispering softly to you trying to calm you down as you panicked crying and hyperventilating.

"Shh shh its okay, I've got you I've got you, Barry can you tell Bruce whats happened we need a car, ambulance or something, Diana can you help hold her still I've got to move her ,get her to the hospital, I can't fly her there could cause an infection or something." Diana crouched beside you shushing you trying to help calm you, moving your head to look at her you tried moving but screamed loud, Clark placed a hand on your tummy holding you still.

"Don’t move y/n don’t move Let me do it okay? Diana I need her on her back can you hold her shoulder I don’t want to move her arm to much Yet ready one... two.. three" everyone winced as you cried out loud your pain echoed in the room

"Shh shh its okay your doing really well I'm here its going to be okay...Konner can you get a cloth we are going to have to stop the bleeding" he looked nervous

"Can't you just laser-" Clark shook his head

"Shes human and will need a cast for it to heal kon we can't explain that in hospital, a clean cloth konner now!" Bruce came running in with a medium black box he swore loud seeing you on the floor.

"Bruce whats that?" He ignored Diana and quickly stopped by you opening the case pulling out a small needle and vial filling the needle with half a dose he would use himself.

"Tramadol, I always have some here incase...Clark I need a vein find one!" Clark moved from your sight making you whine trying to move your head to him. Clark pointed one out on the inside of your arm Bruce’s hand shook he was stopped by Barry.

"We can't just give her tramadol! If they give her morphine it could cause a reaction, We need to get her to the hospital...We can't explain how we gave her tramadol" you looked up as you felt someone else by your broken arm the blue eyed teen went to press the cloth hard over the wound on your arm Diana called out to him

"No head, head the arm will stop bleeding before the head!" He nodded shuffling forward holding it to your head you cried out.

"FFFUUUUCCKK! Fuckfuckfuck noNOOOONO PLEASE STOP!" You screamed at him Clark looked over to a distraught konner who hesitated.

"Keep it there, hold on y/n we get you to a hospital soon just hold on okay sweetheart"

"Yeah don’t go towards any white lights" that brought on a whole new flood of tears as everyone screamed

"BARRY!" you weept as Diana cradled your head in her lap holding you still for konner and making sure your arm was left alone.Bruce was already on the phone to the ambulance requesting one to come over immediately two blocks down where Clark could take you as Clark repeated what he saw.

"Snapped right through the radius and ulna, broken ribs and cracked head, heavy bleeding" Bruce recounted what Clark had said

"Five minuets away okay yes we already moved her to stem the bleeding, shes pale already we will be outside yes" he put the phone down.

"Five minuets we have to move her they think shes on third" Clark bit his lip you cried begging them not to touch you.

"Konner, Barry open the doors for me" you shook your head at him as he moved slowly.

"NO! Please don’t Clark-Clark please don't it hurts I don't want to move" he ignored you taking the cloth from konner pressing it firmly

"Hey hey its okay, just breath I promise I'll be so quick you might not even notice okay? But we need to get you to the hospital, now deep breath in and out that's it good girl breathe in and out" he used the the moment you breathed out to quickly move your arm as gently and fast as possible. Your breathing hitched then you screamed again feeling the boned move.

"YOU FUCK YOU FUCKING FUCK!" He closed his eyes trying to calm himself down he felt bad but it had to be done he couldn't move you anywhere with it dangling about, opening his eyes he crouched over you wiping at the tears hushing you.

"Good girl all done the worst is over now ,I'm so proud of you, now we can move you without touching it again , we don’t need to move it anymore"

"Y-you promise?" He nodded moving tucking you up into his arms the stood up with you pulling you against his chest making sure to stem the blood from your head wound, the bleeding front your arm had slowed but he was worried you were drowsy, very weak you head lulled back eyes unfocused and you was very pale.

"I need something to cover her shes cold, shes gonna pass out" konner shrugged off his heavy coat placing it over her gently tucking it down between her and his dad making sure it was secure.

"The apartments on 3rd right?" Bruce nodded

"Y/n close your eyes honey" you closed them as tight as you could still moaning in pain, it was unbearable there was a rush of air then nothing you'd passed out.

When you come to you were in a white room with huge animal stickers across the walls you grunted then whined at the fluorescent lights you moved your arm to your face noticing a thick bandage. Looking around you saw you was in a private hospital room. Scanning the room you noticed Clark slumped in the chair beside you and the teen from before. The door opened and you saw a woman you didn't recognize she looked kind and chilled out holding a cardboard drinks holder with three cups in it, she stopped short and smiled looking relieved.

"You know you gave them quite a scare...I haven't seen Clark that frightened since...well I don't think I have ever seen him that frightened" you moved sitting up wincing she quickly placed the cups down

"Whoa slowly honey that's it slowly are you in any pain? They said the medication would last longer but you now how doctors are..."you shook your head no.

"Groggy, err what happened?" You trailed off as Clark stirred beside you then blinked his face lit up as he saw you awake and he quickly grabbed you tugging you in for a hug you yelped a little in surprise making the bed shake small pins forming on the surface as it tried to stop the offending body that launched itself at you, you caught it in time, he tucked your head under his chin running his fingers across your scalp holding you for a few seconds then pulled back holding your shoulders looking stern.

"Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me you almost gave me a heart attack! You nearly bled out! You don’t train alone ever! Not until I know you can handle it Do you understand me?!" You nodded slowly at him not quite with it then looked at the woman who stood at the bottom of the bed the blue eyed boy got up standing next to where Clark sat at the head of the bed.

"Clark? Where? Whats going on?" He looked down at you kissing your head he sighed tucking you under his arm.

"You lost focus and panicked you fell about twelve foot, you had a nasty break snapped your ulna and radius, broke three ribs and cracked your head open, you lost a lot of blood, they had to operate on your arm and you've had a few blood transfusions" you looked at your wrapped arm then followed the canula that tied you to a beeping machine with an iv bag that was half full of clear liquid you gulped.

"W-why is it beeping whats wrong?" The woman came over sitting on your right side straightening your arm making the beep stop

"Its when you cut off the tube, there see? Now it can carry on" you looked from her then to Clark and blinked.

"Oh god don’t tell me Bruce had to pay for all that..." Clark shared a look with the other two in the room.

"Well he would have happily you know that but it just so happens Ma's insurance covers the whole family soo" you froze snapping your head up to him.

"I’m not family" He smiled at you then nodded to the woman sitting on your right.

"This is my mother Martha and my son Konner....as of yesterday they have been your brother and grandmother....Diana told you I was going to adopt you its only just been finalized, Konner and I came to get you yesterday we wanted to surprise you then he heard you screaming ...we've been working on your room at home and on the farm for the past few weeks, its why I haven't been around much I had a lot of paper work and court appearance's Bruce helped me through it all... but its all done....your officially y/n Y/l/n Kent now." You bit your lip looking down shaking your head. No they couldn't have. You sniffed. Then felt the woman place her hand on your back rubbing it.

"Hey hey what the matter? Its okay" you shook your head using your good hand to wipe at your eyes trying desperately not to cry but failed miserably.she wrapped an arm around your shoulder pulling you in letting you cry on her you just kept shaking your head not willing to believe that someone had actually chose to keep,you, it had to be a mistake, or some sick joke. No one adopted teens, once you hit twelve you aged out.

"Hey whats with the tears? We don't look that bad do we?" You shook your head at the woman pulling back from her.

"No I-you cant" you couldn't even get the words out around your sobs, you was confused and happy and terrified all in one. Clark interrupted

"Who says I cant? Your ours now and your coming to live with us" you hiccuped still trying to bite back your small shuddering sobs.

"I-I don't have to move again? And I get to stay?" He wrapped you up in his arms again .

"No your not going any where now, your stuck with us and when we leave here we are all going to the farm for a while to settle then you'll be moving back into metropolis with me and Konner...why don't you introduce yourself Konner?" He moved forward smiling shyly

"Im glad your okay now....don't do it again tho it wasn't...nice watching you bleed out like that" you smiled at him wiping your eyes trying to stop the tears.

"Thank you for finding me....if you hadn't I don't know what would have happened.. and I’m sorry for screaming at you..." he waved it off"Its okay you were hurt so of course you would scream at me, and I couldn’t let my little sister die before picking on her at least once wheres the fun in that." You fidgeted with the blanket.

"Y-you don’t mind having me around? Even near your grandma? I’m not exactly safe" he shook his head going to speak but was cut off by his grandma taking hold of your chin.

"No you are not dangerous," you held up your arm but she shook her head

"Yes so it was a stupid decision But you wont do it again, even with your powers your human just like me and need to be more careful, besides I'm pretty sure I can handle it, he got his laser vision when he was seven, try that for dangerous" you looked to Clark unsure but he shrugged nodding.

"Its true she raised me and came out fighting any way we've already established that you can acclimatize your powers to other people nothing happens with Diana Bruce or Barry anymore me and konner just need to hang around until you reach that point hence why we are going to the farm for a while first."

"How do you know that?" He sighed

"I may not have been around but Bruce kept me updated" you looked down again Martha sat back smiling you were lost, just as lost as konner had been but she knew you'd come around it will take time you haven't had anyone for a long time, Clark had let both her and konner know what had happened and about your power she was excited to have a granddaughter around the house for a while.

"Plus it will be good to get you away from the city for a while, whens the last time you got out of the city and had some fresh air?" You shook your head tilting it a bit

"Never left Gotham before" she smiled at you

"Well are you in for a shock, huge open spaces fresh air its really something" Clark smiled as you relaxed konner piped up"It really is, there's lots of space to let loose and you can practice your power thing in the garden" you looked to Clark who smiled brightly at you

"Yes its just about time to start planting crops so you can help out on the fields and in the potting barn" you smiled eyes lighting up

"I've never grown nothing before, can I grow tomatoes And cucumber?" Martha nodded at you making you glow.

"After you catch up on your classes, your nearly a eight months behind in every subject" you frowned at him shaking his head

"What no I'm not-" he leaned back crossing his arms at you

"Yes you are, I was given your transcripts you have been slowly falling behind since switching to online so we have a strict schedule in place that your going to follow to catch up, konner will be there to he is doing online as well so your going to have a classmate" you looked at konner stumped.

"Is he serious?"

"Deadly I’m afraid, but I will help you so don’t sweat it" you nodded you didn’t mind really it will be nice having someone who really cared who wasn’t paid to do it you smiled leaning back a little Clark caught you moving in to quickly kiss your head

"I'm sure it wont be that bad" the door opened and a doctor came in with a smile crossing the room quickly standing at the bottom of the bed.

"So how is the patient today? Well your up which is good any pain at all?" You shook your head curling into Clark....You didn't like doctors one bit. He stood at the end of your bed reading the clipboard.

"Well that’s good" he smiled to you then began talking to Clark making you frown a little it was odd...being treated like a kid, when your an orphan people tend to treat you different older they know your more independent but now your doctor was bypassing you opting to speak about you not to you, Martha caught your confusion and patted your hand.

"Her blood is back to normal and the ob's are fine, I see no reason to keep,her in any longer there’s no fever or anything that could show an infection so you can probably leave today, just need to remove the iv and get a cast put on I will have someone come up to take you down for that in the next hour or so." Clark nodded then spoke

"Is it going to scar?" The doctor hesitated"It was a nasty break, clean cut but nasty it probably will leave a scar but I'm not sure how bad it will probably just be a small one where the bone came through the skin" you gasped

"It came through? Ew.... did someone get a picture?" konner laughed nodding moving to pull out his phone making the adults sigh

"Hell yeah look" you did immediately regretting it.

"OH FUCK I’m gonna be sick, we are white meat....looks like a chicken fillet" you bent over heaving Clark sighed rubbing your back you hissed as the movement pulled on your ribs.

"Kon put it away, what about her ribs will they heal? And her head?"

"Head will be fine the stitches will dissolve and her ribs will be if she takes it easy, the bandage she had on now will help but she has to go slow and come back for a check up" he flipped the chart

"Metropolis? I will arrange for you to go there for the check up" Clark corrected him

"Could you make it Smallville medical center? We are going to stay there for a while, I’m thinking if she wont listen to me she will listen to grandma" you flushed feeling a strange warmth in your chest as he said that....this was going to take a while to get used to. The doctor smiled chuckling

"Now that does sound like a good idea, cast will be on for a minimum of seven weeks...in her case probably longer."

"Will she get a color one?" The doctor nodded to konner

"Well we have a pretty bright pink-"

"Black....I want black" he stuttered looking for help from the others who all shrugged

"I don’t think we have black at the moment there’s pink,purple, lime green, orange and blue but you can ask when you get there. Now I’m going to go and cal a nurse to get that iv out." You blinked as he left the room.

"Well he was fucking rude barely spoke to me....just you I'm going on trust pilot what was his name again?" Martha laughed and Clark snorted

"Its called having a dad, I sort out the adult stuff now remember? You just be a kid" you faltered looking down it will take time, Clark cast a look over you to Martha who shook her head konner sensed the awkwardness and quickly interrupted.

"Can I draw on your cast....never drawn on one before." You regarded konner for a second"You gonna draw a dick on it?" He shook his head smirking

"Okay but if you do draw a dick on it I'm gonna draw one on your face in your sleep....just saying"

"No one is drawing dicks on any one" Clark rolled his eyes at the two teens, he'd admit he was a little worried about how you two would be but something tell's him your both going to be fine, you both had been crying out for someone who you couldn't accidentally hurt and that was going to be your starting point, no doubt there was going to be bumps along the way but for now he was happy, his family was growing happy and healthy he couldn't ask for more than that.

#justice league x teen reader #justice league x reader #superman x reader #clark kent x reader

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missmentelle · 3 years

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Your posts are so informative and I was wondering if you could help me. I'm a BA psych student in a smallish town in canada and I'm considering applying to work in a womens homeless shelter. In the past I've worked in youth residential care and daycare, but this is a big step in another direction. What is it like working in a homeless shelter? When I talk to people in my class (who have never worked there) they just say it's dangerous and I shouldn't bother. But, I want to help women and youth who are more vulnerable in my community. But is it dangerous? Are your expected to work alone? At the youth residence, there was clear communication and there were always other staff around. I was so sure, before I started talking to others about it.

You have excellent timing, I just got home from a night shift at the youth shelter! (I’m picking up shifts at my organization’s youth homeless shelter while the whole org is short-staffed due to COVID, which is why you’ve been seeing a lot fewer posts from me lately. Doing swing shifts on top of my 9-5 is kicking my butt.)

I can’t say exactly what working at one particular shelter will be like, because every shelter does things a little bit differently - they all have different rules, schedules and policies. There are some things that they do tend to have in common, though. For instance, I would be absolutely shocked if any shelter made any staff member work alone. That’s unheard of in my experience. At every shelter I’ve ever visited or worked at, you will have several staff on shift at any given time, plus an on-site manager or supervisor to handle emergencies, or an on-call supervisor that you can phone for advice or direction if you aren’t quite sure what to do. My org’s shelter requires that there be a minimum of three staff on-site at all times (it’s a small shelter with less than two dozen beds), plus a supervisor either on-site or on-call. If you work at a shelter, you will have support (and if you don’t, you should quit and find another shelter that does).

At the shelter I’ve been helping out at, youth who arrive there are typically there for around a 2-3 month stay. Each youth gets their own private room (somewhat common in domestic violence, youth and family shelters, fairly uncommon in men’s shelters and general homeless shelters) and they are allowed to bring two bags of belongings with them. Youth are woken up in the morning, fed some breakfast (not all shelters will serve breakfast), and then the youth are required to be out of the building for most of the day (this is pretty much universal for homeless shelters, but many domestic violence and family shelters will not have this requirement).

During the day, shelter staff inspect rooms, write documentation, contact other professionals who are working with the youth, supervise any youth that are in the building due to extenuating circumstances (illness, night shift workers, etc), inform the incoming shift about last night’s activities, and prepare dinner. Youth return in the late afternoon, have dinner, do their chores, and are free to come and go until their curfew - they can meet with support staff for counselling, do homework in their rooms, watch TV, do their laundry, or just go out with their friends. There is a set time where they have to be in their rooms, and staff come around to check on youth a few times during the night. Then morning comes and it starts all over again. Many shelters run in a similar way, although there will be slight differences to their policies and procedures - some homeless shelters, for instance, do not give residents a “set” bed and require people to line up for beds on a first-come, first-served basis every night. It just depends on the individual place.

You will absolutely have to deal with some tough situations while working at a shelter. I would be lying if I told you otherwise. Note that “tough” does not always mean “violent” or “dangerous” - basically anything that can happen at a shelter will happen sometimes. You can have all sorts of medical, mental health, maintenance or general emergencies. This past month at the shelter, we’ve had everything from a broken washing machine flooding the basement to a youth arrested outside the building for throwing rocks at cars to a youth having a miscarriage. We did have one youth making violent threats against staff, and a few making threats to harm themselves. It’s a fast-paced work environment, and you can really never be sure what will happen. At my shift last night, we settled all the youth down in the lounge for a movie night with some popcorn and leftover Halloween candy and they all went to bed without incident. Other nights, I’ve been screamed at for having to enforce the rules, or I’ve had to call 911 because someone is violent and out of control. It’s impossible to say how any one shift will go.

I will say, though, that I’ve been in this field for 8 years now, and my organization has been around for almost 50 years, and in that time we’ve never had a staff member seriously injured by a client. I’ve actually never worked anywhere that has. The potential to be injured is there - you can get injured at any job - and I’ve been in some pretty tense situations, but I’ve never seriously feared for my life or my safety. At the shelter I’ve been working at, you are either with a team member or you have a team member watching you on the security cameras at all times, and they will immediately jump in to help the moment anything tense starts to happen. The only staff injury we’ve had this year was a staff member who cut herself while chopping vegetables for dinner. We all receive regular, comprehensive training in suicide prevention, crisis deescalation, non-violent crisis intervention, motivational interviewing and mental health first aid. Management is incredibly supportive. We are quick to call the local mobile crisis team or 911 if there is a situation we need help with. All staff carry either a cell phone or a panic button (a little plastic button that alerts 911 if you push it) so we can get help quickly if we need it. No one ever has to deal with anything alone.

Personally, I love working shifts at the shelter, and if you have any interest in working at one, I would say to go for it. You meet some of the most incredible people, both among the staff and residents. For every hard moment where you’re calling 911 or dealing with an emergency, you will also have funny, endearing human moments, like when we put on some music last night and the kids had a dance contest as they cleared away their dinner dishes, or when you finally get to help a resident move out of the shelter and into their first real apartment. You’ll also make some of the best friends you’ve ever had amongst your fellow staff - I am still in daily contact with old co-workers from every social services job I’ve ever had, even jobs that I left years ago. Working at a shelter can also be a great segue into other careers in social services - my org is very supportive of people who want to further their education, and many of the people in upper management started out as casual shift workers at the shelter. If nothing else, it’s a great way to learn more about how the system actually works, and to start thinking critically about what needs to be done to improve it. If I had to make up pros and cons for working at a shelter, it would be this (keep in mind this is my list, and things that are “pros” for me might be “cons” for you)” Pros:

fast-paced work environment

hands-on work, not just paperwork and desk work

unpredictable work environment, no routine or monotony

get a chance to use a variety of skill sets, from counselling to cooking

lots of ongoing training and professional development

get to make a difference to people in crisis

get to connect with all kinds of people and hear their stories

supportive and friendly co-workers, easy to make friends

great introduction to a life-long career

get to see how social work and metal health theory actually looks in practice

Cons:

shift work, shelters are open 24/7

sometimes have to deal with very serious emergencies

pay could be better

can be very tough to enforce rules, both emotionally and logisically

absolutely sucks to have to turn someone away

can be difficult to see people return to shelter after getting out, or to continue to get worse

sometimes required to do gross tasks, like cleaning up vomit

unpredictability means sometimes the worst things happens on days where you really just needed a quiet day

Honestly, I would not take advice from anyone who has never actually worked or resided in a shelter. A lot of people hold very unfair or discriminatory views toward the homeless, even if they claim not to hate homeless people, and someone who has never actually spent quality time watching the daily operations of a shelter has no business making statements about how “dangerous” it actually is. I know people who have spent their whole careers working at shelters and are still passionate about it and love what they do. If you want to give working in one a try, I would say absolutely go for it. Best of luck to you! MM

#Anonymous

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altheterrible · 4 years

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The good news is, I started taking Victoza. I've been trying to get this med since 2018 and medicaid finally caved in.

The bad news is that it's making me really sick, and they basically caved because I am Literally Dying. More on that later, I can't even today.

I got a phone call today from a random therapy office because my new PCP, whose name I don't remember, took one look at my PHQ9 score and referred me to therapy. I also scheduled a mandatory $400 addiction treatment evaluation that's going to take 3 hours of my life.

I logged into check my account balance and I have $13 in my bank account to last me until next Friday because student loans came out (COVID is over apparently) so I have no idea where I'm going to get that $400.

I was assaulted by a resident at work, but there's not even really a way to report that let alone anyone who would care or implement any changes to prevent it from happening again. I love this illusion clinical has that they're helping anyone. This resident is the sweetest guy, great taste in music, and he tells me that sometimes his brain makes him do things he doesn't want to. His meds are a mess. They get real therapy once a week and 90% of the program is run by high school grads making $14/hour.

I'm going to get fired sooner rather than later because I treat the residents like adults capable of making decisions and that's the fundamental flaw of the program is that it's supposed to prepare people to enter the "real world" but still doesn't give them enough agency to practice the skills they're supposed to be learning.

Someone grossly misinterpreted my latest poetry that was critical of residential psych treatment to be a "poor me, I'm sad because I commit violence against these institutionalized people" thing. Like, no, I know I'm useless and this program is useless and exploitative and I want to do something about it? The money isn't going to the food or the therapy or the goddamn HVAC system so where is it? But we all know.

Ugh I'm so nauseated and on day 3 of what I'm calling the Victoza migraine. I'm feeling hypoglycemia coming in for the 3rd time today and I just can't. Tempted to just go to sleep and play chicken with death.

#whining

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rebootkirk · 5 years

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Hey I saw your tags and as someone who also got fucked by public education, did you graduate high school? What was it like? Where are you now in terms of education and career? Obviously you don't owe a random on the internet shit, but I'm younger than you by a little and I'd like to know your story

okay so this got… real long. so there will be a tl;dr at the end if this is way more info than you wanted

i had a really shit high school experience. i’ve had severe GAD (generalized anxiety disorder) my entire life and was diagnosed with depression in 7th grade and ADHD in 8th grade, but as a Gifted Kid i couldn’t accept that i needed help and refused a 504 plan when my therapist at the time suggested it. my local high school was a Good School which is code for “we’re gonna work these kids as hard as possible until they have a breakdown and then we’re gonna pretend that’s not happening”. so things got really awful for me mental health-wise during my freshman year of high school because i was so over-stressed by everything going on with school. i remember telling multiple people that i didn’t know how/if i was going to survive high school. when i told my parents that high school was hell i absolutely wasn’t exaggerating.

i switched to homebound education 3 weeks into my sophomore year because my anxiety and depression got so bad i literally couldn’t set foot on school grounds without starting to have a panic attack. i stayed in homebound until the end of the semester (in january), but i wasn’t getting better (this was the absolute worst period of time for my mental health and i never imagined i would have any kind of future) and homebound isn’t meant to be a long term solution, so we decided i would switch to homeschooling.

i was enrolled in online classes but my (and my mom’s) adhd made it pretty much impossible for me to actually complete those classes, and once i realized there was no penalty for turning my work in late i kinda just stopped doing it. i essentially did nothing for the entirety of what should have been my junior year, but because i was getting good yearly test scores (which you have to provide to the school system to show you’re actually progressing in your education but the tests were honestly a joke) nobody made a fuss. but it’s easier and more accurate for me to just say i dropped out of high school so i go with that instead of “technically homeschooled but not actually doing anything”

in the fall of what would have been my senior year i took one class at the local community college. in the spring i took two. i got my GED the same month my twin sister graduated from high school (may 2016). i kept taking classes at community college, but never more than 3 per semester.

i joined a club at the local public university in fall 2017 and made friends. in december of 2017 i was diagnosed with an extremely disabling sleep disorder (idiopathic hypersomnia) and started taking meds that made me sleep a little bit better at night and took me from my body NEEDING a 4-5hr nap EVERY DAY to just needing a 1-2hr nap every other day or so. and since the university makes it really easy for the community college students to apply and get accepted (or denied) on the spot, i applied as a psych major as a sort-of whim. and i got in.

in fall of 2018 i started at [university name redacted] and moved into a dorm with other transfer students. and i got accommodations for my ADHD and all of my teachers were really understanding of the fact that 1. i had a debilitating sleep disorder, and 2. that it was my first time taking classes full time in 5 years and i might struggle a bit. and i started actually getting treated for my chronic pain that i hadn’t let myself admit was chronic pain and going to a dietitian on campus and seeing a psychiatrist and in november i finally got my weight up enough for my doctor to let me go back on adderall which has made a huge difference in my ability to actually focus and do school shit. i ended up having to get an extension on one of my final papers and take an incomplete for another class and finish my final paper for that class over break but i did finish them both! what was also really important to me was that i was taking classes i actually wanted to be in (except for biological statistics but that’s a requirement for my major).

this past semester i officially decided i wanted to double major in neurosci and psych and so i’m doing it! and i didn’t have to get extensions on any of my finals! i’m working as an undergrad research assistant in one of the psych labs on campus and i can see a future for myself, which i couldn’t have ever imagined at 16. i’ve still got 2-3 more years of undergrad, which means i’ll graduate after my twin sister does, but i feel like i can actually do it. and i want to go to grad school. which is fucking wild but seems possible most days.

tl;dr: i dropped out of high school at 15/16 for mental health reasons, got my GED 2 ½ years later, did community college part time for a while, got into university, started actually going to doctors and shit about my mental and physical health issues, decided to double major in psych and neurosci, and now i actually want to go to grad school after college when i never even thought i would survive until the end of high school

i’m not going to say “keep going, it gets better” because that was the absolute worst possible thing someone could say to me when i was in so much pain and felt so empty that a life didn’t seem possible for me. getting to this point was really fucking hard and took a really long time and there’s a lot of not-so-great shit that i’m glossing over, and i’m still struggling. but i’m so fucking proud of myself for surviving. and i know that sounds preachy and dumb but i am

#thoughts #long post #block text

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trippinglynet · 5 years

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Trial by Fire: A Burning Man Experience by Robert B. Gelman

Trial by Fire

a Burning Man Experience

by Robert B. Gelman Photos by Leo Nash and Jay Bain

I don't go to the Burning Man festival seeking spiritual enlightenment. I go because I like to revel in fire, dance and music. Nor do I go to Burning Man because I'm a student of anthropology and civilization, but rather because it's one of the few places on Earth where you can escape the constraints of modern civilization. And I certainly haven't made the pilgrimage to Burning Man these past eight years because I like driving seven hours to immerse myself in a hot, dry, hostile environment. Yet, I am always amazed at how my experience transcends all of these issues.

I know I must be there, and that I will come away profoundly affected. You might hear something like that from thousands who attend this event, yet each would be talking about an experience that is completely different and unique to them alone. Over the years I've read so many journalistic accounts of this festival, many by brilliant writers, and for the most part, they fail to convey the essence of Burning Man.

My own experience at last year's (1997) event was so intense, it has motivated me to join those before me who have attempted to share in words, this shared experience which defies literal communication. After reading, if you're so inclined, please drop me a note to let me know if I succeeded or not.

Labor Day Weekend 1997

As usual, there were wondrous works of art and performance that enveloped me and elicited my participation (I'm a drummer and part of the drumming collective that leads the procession to the man for his immolation). But even after eight years as part of this project, I was caught off guard and forced to once again re-examine my fundamental belief system, and view of creative expression in particular. I had a life-changing experience as a reaction-to and in interaction with a performance that on the face of it, was just a bunch of aggressive men and women bent on intimidating everyone in their path and burning everything they possibly could possibly get to. I had just met the "Vegematic."

The one fact no-one will dispute about the Burning Man festival is that things explode and burn there. What some might not want you to know is how dangerous these events actually are. Sure, the people designing the big pyrotechnic installations are skilled, but not necessarily professionals (at least in the pyro profession). I happen to know that some of the folks who prepare these displays for the festival enjoy putting their lives at risk in the pursuit of intense experience. I've been guilty of that myself from time to time, as it helps to remind me that I'm ALIVE.

The point is that this is not a sanitized, safety-bound event in which you need not be concerned for your well-being. You are putting yourself in danger by attending Burning Man. If you forget to drink enough water, you could die. Not watching where you are walking could make you an unwitting part of a fire-performance, getting injured or worse.

This situation presents an undeniable reality-shift from the world in which most of us live, where we expect governments and businesses to be our surrogate parents, to take care of our needs. We rely on courts to litigate our civil suits when we seek to make others responsible for what happens to us. It would be a much better world in which people would routinely take responsibility for their own well-being and the effects of their actions, in my opinion. That world exists at Burning Man.

The outrageous and absurd costumes, performances, theme camps and behaviors you observe only serve to enhance this shift of perceived reality to the extent that you begin to wonder what is real and what is not. Is that person truly a disgruntled postal worker, or just a stand-up comedian? Do they really know how big an explosion that contraption will create? Do I really need to worry whether they will burn down my tent?

Personally, I have no great attachment to everyday reality. I view it like a computer operating system that is useful mostly because it allows me to run the same software as most other people. We have no way of knowing whether there is such a thing as objective reality anyway, so why not enjoy the variety of a new one every now and then? Burning Man is nothing if not a smorgasbord of alternate realities. This then, is the frame of mind I found myself in on the festival's final day last year.

The anticipation of the "burn" builds the intensity of expression from the moment you arrive. You can feel it in the air. Sexual energy is intensified, primitive instincts usually dormant become shockingly prevalent. You are cro-magnon man, your life is a struggle, but you survive by your will, your wits, and your urge to evolve. And just how do you evolve? You express yourself.

I choose to express through ritual at this event. The drums I play hearken primitive aspects from within. The fire before me is the altar upon which I must make an offering. I select a treasured instrument, a drum which I have loved and played over time, and designate this physical thing as my sacrifice. Raising the drum above my head, I whirl in dizzying dervish-style until my fingers release their grasp and a thousand eyes bear witness to the short arc of flight. Landing amidst the white-hot embers of the now-fallen Burning Man, the sacrificial drum is vaporized in seconds. My catharsis achieved, I am now free to roam the desert playa, a character reborn to engage in human drama.

That's where I was when I encountered the Vegematic. It's straight out of hell, suggesting engineering from the industrial revolution transported to Fritz Lang's Metropolis. Part vehicle, part flame-thrower, part earth drilling device, I envision this machine being used to battle creatures in a 1950's monster movie, or to torture souls of the damned in the realm of Satan. I'm immediately fascinated.

Sitting atop the thing, its creator Jim Mason invokes the motor which rotates the intimidating giant drill-bit head. A pressurized gas-charger propels a massive flame as much as seventy feet from the barrel at its center. A hand-crank allows Jim to raise the angle of the barrel to about 45 degrees so that it is now pointing at a large helium balloon about forty feet away.

I notice that there is a now a crowd gathered around this scene, made up of others who like me, find something about this spectacle compelling, at least for the moment. They may well be gentle loving people in another reality, but this is an angry mob, bent on destruction, preferably by fire. "Burn it!" the shout goes up as I hear the ominous groan of the Vegematic's motor for the first time.

A man with a bullhorn, known in the performance world as "Chicken John," offers a warning to the owners of the camp with the helium balloon: "step aside." Faced with this machine and the angry mob, that's exactly what they do. Then in an instant, a very loud, very hot, very bright arm of flame reaches out for the balloon, clenching it in a heated grasp. The explosion it creates is awesome enough to quiet the mob. Just a little, and for just a little while.

The visual appeal of the helium blast has swelled the ranks of the mob following the trail of the Vegematic. The ignition of the first target seemed to simply feed their hunger for more fire. Like medieval villagers, we migrate on to the next camp.

Here, a young artist (whose name I did not get) is sitting around a camp fire with his friends at the foot of a sculptural masterpiece he had created and called "The Agony of Man." [Note: the art was Future Primitive by Steel Neal. The piece survives today.] I had heard that this fellow did not consider himself to be a "real" artist, and he was just building something to burn, in the spirit of the festival. I admit this is hearsay, but I understand that seeing how his work affected attendees at the festival changed his perception of himself as an artist, and of this work. Perhaps it should not be burned after all.

The Vegematic wheels into position directly in front of the 20-foot high wood and metal sculpture. Mason is revving the the drill-motor as if it were a race car. The ominous whine it omits is the cue for Chicken John on the bullhorn. "Step aside!" he warns the bystanders.

Three of the four people who were seated in the path of the fire cannon were safely behind it in about two seconds after that warning. One was not. The artist, rising slowly from his seat before the campfire, folds his arms and shakes his head to tell the confronting horde that he will not step aside and allow his work to be destroyed by them.

Chicken John repeats his instructions, more insistently now. Jim releases a small blast of fire, sort of a warning shot to indicate the verity of his intention. All of a sudden I find myself overcome with emotions of all kinds flooding in from the darkest corners of my psyche.

"What is going on here?" I ponder. "What am I doing here?" Is this newly transformed artist ready to die ablaze to protect his work? Will these "performers" make good on their threat? What is really being played out here? I am worried about the behavior of this mob. If the Vegematic does not destroy this thing, will the crowd accept that, or will they take control of the machine and destroy it themselves?

All these questions and not an answer in sight. I knew though, that I was engaged in direct interaction with some of the ugliest aspects of our human nature, and I was afraid. I did not know exactly where the line was to be drawn on the violent destruction of property (people?), and I knew that the behavior of the mob was real and based on suspension of disbelief. The most frightening aspect of this scene is a crowd being whipped into an increasingly destructive mood. A crowd for whom all of this is not performance, but immersive reality.

My mind was reeling with "what-ifs." What if they actually injured this man? What if the uncivilized mob overpowered the rational "audience?" What would I do? What could I do? Am I responsible for this by simply being here? Again, the answers are more elusive, yet I am unable to simply turn away.

It must have been only a few seconds, but they were some of the tensest I've ever felt, as the showdown reached its climax. The artist is still standing his ground, and finally the Vegematic disengages and begins to move on. This failure to destroy the work and the man sends a wave of visible (and audible) discontent through the mob...and a new bubble of fear to my chest.

Even as I am questioning my reasons for following this spectacle, I know I have to continue. This has now become much more than performance art with fire. This is the confrontation of good and evil in a cosmic allegory, revealing the truth of our nature in the process of unfolding before me.

I notice that we've been on this destructive quest for nearly an hour, the steadily growing crowd around the Vegematic cheering madly as all manner of flammable material meets its end before the machine. Shelter structures, miscellaneous sculptures and other property have become fuel for the flames. Each time Chicken John would shout "step aside!" (and eventually the mob joined-in on this chant), then Jim would rev the motor and let the jet-propelled fire out into the night.

Inevitably, the field of available targets had just about been exhausted. That is, all but one very big one. We are now headed straight for the festival's main stage. This large A-frame structure had been host to numerous music and dance performances over the course of the festival, and in the hours following the burn, it was home to the DJ's spinning techno and trance rhythms for the "community dance" (spelled r-a-v-e). The tool of devastation on wheels cut a path through the crowd of dancers to a position directly in front of the DJ console on stage. The surrealism of this vision has me cursing the fact that I am out of film.

As if to underscore the difference in mindset between the trance-dancers and the mob, instead of issuing his usual warning, Chicken John jumps onstage and insists to the DJ, "Play some Led Zeppelin!" The Vegematic lets out a motorized groan and a flaming belch in response. The overgrown drill-bit nose is now dripping gasoline in flames like the devil with a wet cold. A scene from Hieronymous Bosch's painting of "Hell" flashes across my mind.

The DJ is Goa Gil, and perhaps due to his nature, or perhaps the fact that he has come all the way from India, he is hardly reacting to the implied threat. In fact, he is turning up the volume in peaceful defiance of the metal invasion in front of him. With all due respect for the views of others, I've had my doubts about the professed spiritual nature of these dances. I do however, believe that intent is well more than half of the journey. I wondered if these frenetic dancing kids knew how their faith was about to be tested.

I didn't have to wait long to find out… The crew of the machine is tilting the flamethrower's barrel up at the console. Gil is staring down the 12-foot barrel of this jet powered char-broiler. I had to remind myself that this is theatre, or is it? I'm still not sure. "Burn it!" the mob chants, "Burn THEM!" in a mantra of destructive abandon that causes me to feel a mix of shame and fear and apprehension (fuel for enlightenment).

Like an opposing pacifist army, the ravers are standing their ground, some shouting in defiance of the threat, some in disbelief that this could really be happening. Chicken John, like the demented circus ringmaster that he is, issues his now-familiar warning over the bullhorn. We seem to have traveled back centuries in time. I don't remember ever feeling farther from home than this.

For only the second time among at least a dozen confrontations, the Vegematic is backing down, leading one to feel that there may indeed be hope for these humans, and perhaps there is something that purifies and bonds us together in the music and dance.

Final Showdown

This story is not quite over. There is one more challenge that we've been waiting to see the Vegematic meet. Jim had envisioned this encounter from the start, and has gone to great expense and effort to make it real. He has created a 15-foot high ball of solid ice in the middle of what is known as Black Rock City. Using a giant Fiberglas mold, Styrofoam and hay bales for insulation, a refrigeration unit had been employed onsite for days to freeze water that was poured into the mold. On Saturday (one full day prior to this encounter), the casing was removed and the glory of this work was revealed.

There it stood, in utter defiance of the desert heat and all the fire that was to surround it over the next 24 hours. A snowball in hell. I was surprised at how little it had melted in the day's sun, but was certain that a giant ice ball would become a giant puddle after the onslaught of the Vegematic's fire gun and drill. The drama continued to unfold.

The nose of the Vegematic is aimed for the center of the frozen sphere. It will bury its drilling blade in the outer surface of the ball. It will then drill its way into the center of the ice. From there, the flamethrower's power will be maximized, melting the chilly sculpture from the inside out.

The crowd is larger than ever, and shouting for violence against the target. As far as I can tell, there are no cheerleaders for the ice. As the monster machine moves into place against the ice, the familiar sound of the motor is drowned by mob-noise. The drill turns, but the ice is apparently tougher than expected. Jim resorts to using the fire to soften her up. Whoosh, whoosh, again and again the fire spews forward, the drill bit revolves and the battle of the elements plays itself out. This continues for some time, until the remaining fuel is spent.

The Morning After

The ultimate truth of this journey (internal and external) was evident the next morning for all to see. In a way, I half-expected to return here and find no evidence of the previous night's experience whatsoever. Instead, right where we left it during our night of fire was the Vegematic, it's rusting drill-nose buried just a few inches in the ice ball, out of fuel and out of luck.

I'm not sure whether the great truth I was seeking was actually embodied in this tableau, but I was satisfied with the outcome. It's easy to make poetic comparisons about fire and ice, but for me the intensity of the experience came from those unanswerable questions and what they told me about myself and my fellow man. Something ugly. Something beautiful. I am grateful for the mirror.

The ice had won - this time. Next time, who knows?

#1997

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