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#recovery – @rubynye on Tumblr
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A Star-Forged Ruby

@rubynye / rubynye.tumblr.com

Things found here and there. And probably some stuff I made too. Love, Rubynye.
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flowerhound

Okay I’ve been simmering on this today but like. We need more representations of fatness and weight gain as signs of healing. So so often in media weight loss is meant to be a sign of becoming healthier or happier and I’m ready to see more of the opposite!

Give me characters who hadn’t had secure access to food in the past having stable food and filling out from finally being able to eat when they’re hungry.

Give me characters who have always felt like they had to adhere to a standard for fear of judgment finally gaining weight as they become more comfortable with themselves and their bodies.

Give me couples getting fatter together because they know they’ll be loved and because life’s too short to worry about dieting and controlling intake all the time.

Give me characters who’ve struggled with disordered eating habits in the past who get progressively chunkier as they recover with the help of people who adore them.

Give me fatness as a sign of comfort. Of health. Of security and recovery and confidence. Give me fatness as a sign of happiness.

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reblogged

Tip for ex-Christian/culturally Christian pagans & such:

This does depend a bit on what type of belief system you’re getting into - but one thing you may need to work on is dismantling your perception of the divine as inherently hierarchical. This can include dismantling ideas like: -A perception of sky deities as inherently more just, loving, and powerful than earth gods. -The assumption that big, powerful deities are more deserving of your time and attention than local spirits/wights. -The belief that transcendent deities are more worthy of your time/attention than deities associated with the earthly plane. -The assumption that deities are to be obeyed without question. -The belief that there is an essential difference between humanity and the divine, and that humans are somehow lowly, disgusting creatures. (A number of gods started out as venerated ancestors!) -The belief that your worth/value as a person is defined by your relationship to a divine being and how faithfully you serve them. -The belief that deities are inherently better than you, and are therefore entitled to hurt and humiliate you.

  • The idea that a religion is founded on a single, mutually agreed divine text or interpretation of said text, and that it needs a universally applicable codex for what makes a true believer
  • The idea that gods are singularly, omnisciently interested and invested in everything you do if you haven’t prayed to, invoked or angered them beforehand
  • A perception of beliefs and deities being completely and overarchingly universal instead of local or locally varied in their different aspects and domains
  • Drawing from the one above: the idea that a “god of the forest”, for example, is a deity whose “power” is “forests” or a deity who likes forests, and a deity focused to help and guidr *you* in a forest; rather than a deity in, for and throughout a forest and/or all the forests, interested in the best of the forest – but perhaps willing to discuss it with you.

Hope you don’t mind me tacking on more! ^^

  • The idea of judgement in the afterlife, especially where the “good”/“bad” are rewarded or punished respectively.
  • The idea that belief is the most important aspect of a religion, and devotion is measured in full, unwavering faith rather than the rituals or actions we perform.
  • The whole concept of sin, especially where humans are inherently born with some sort of impurity that must be reconciled.
  • The dichotomy between a Great Good King God and a Malevolent Evil God who are locked in battle with each other
  • The idea of jealous gods who will punish you for working with other deities
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saprophetic

btw. to any kids for whom hearing your parents move around the house is terrifying. at some point hearing the door open because someone's home will make you smile. youll hear voices in the other room, or youll hear footsteps down the hallway, and it won't be scary, it'll be comforting. like i dont wanna be That Guy Who Says "It Gets Better" but im almost 27 and ive found the people im gonna spend my life with — hearing my roommates in the house is natural and normal in a good way. i know it feels like everything will always be awful but i promise you WILL make it out of your parents' house, and the life you can build for yourself will make you happier than you ever knew was possible. at some point someone standing in your doorway will be because you love them and want to talk to them. itll be worth it, i promise.

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xiaq
Anonymous asked:

Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)

Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.

I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???

(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)

CW for sex talk (again)

How does one get over purity culture?

Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.

Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.

According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl’s body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.

Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.

You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.

The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won’t worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.

Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that’s tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.

Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don’t push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don’t like doing any sex things, don’t do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)

Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.

*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed.“ Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).

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rubynye

Also, read _Our Bodies, Ourselves_!

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not-poignant

(Speechless)

Our most surprising finding [of MRI scanning the brains of people with PTSD] was a white spot in the left frontal lobe of the cortex, in a region called Broca’s area. In this case the change in colour meant that there was a significant decrease in that part of the brain. Broca’s area is one of the speech centres of the brain, which is often affected in stroke patients when the blood supply to that region is cut off. Without a functioning Broca’s area, you cannot put your thoughts and feelings into words. Our scans showed that Broca’s area went offline whenever a flashback was triggered. In other words, we had visual proof that the effects of trauma are not necessarily different from – and can overlap with – the effects of physical lesions like strokes.
All trauma is preverbal. Shakespeare captures this state of speechless terror in Macbeth, after the murdered king’s body is discovered: ‘Oh horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue nor heart cannot conceive or name thee! Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!’ Under extreme conditions people may scream obscenities, call for their mothers, howl in terror, or simply shut down. Victims of assaults and accidents sit mute and frozen in emergency rooms; traumatised children ‘lose their tongues’ and refuse to speak. Photographs of combat soldiers show hollow-eyed men staring mutely into a void.
Even years later traumatised people often have enormous difficulty telling other people what has happened to them. Their bodies reexperience terror, rage, and helplessness, as well as the impulse to fight or flee, but these feelings are almost impossible to articulate. Trauma by nature drives us to the edge of comprehension, cutting us off from language based on common experience or an imaginable past.
This doesn’t mean that people can’t talk about a tragedy that has befallen then. Sooner or later most survivors…come up with what many of them call their ‘cover story’ that offers some explanation for their symptoms and behaviour for public consumption. These stories, however, rarely capture the inner truth of the experience. It is enormously difficult to organise one’s traumatic experiences into a coherent account – a narrative with a beginning, a middle, and an end.

The Body Keeps the Score: Mind, Brain and Body in the Transformation of Trauma by Bessel Van Der Kolk

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buchanans

You think your cause justifies all this death, but in the end, the nightmares won’t go away. You’re going to remember all of the ones you killed. Trust me. Don’t go down this path. BUCKY BARNES + his ongoing road to recovery Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) Captain America: Civil War (2016) Black Panther (2018) The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021)

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A group of rough looking boys walked past me today and all I heard of their conversation was “he’s got that anxiety disorder bro so I went with him so he’d be more comfortable” and it made me realise the world isn’t all that bad

The pet store I worked at had a pen with rabbits near the front door. On every side of the pen were huge signs saying “You can pet me, but don’t pick me up!” One day two absolutely huge guys came in and one immediately reaches into the pen to grab a rabbit. Before i could say anything his friend grabbed his arm and asked him “did you see the sign?” He said “yeah! it says that you can pick them up but don’t pet them!” Then he went quiet for a moment and softly said “I didn’t read it right did I?” And his friend just puts his arm on his shoulder and said “its ok, i know you’ve got that thing where words get mixed up. Let just pet these cute lil shits” And I still haven’t gotten over that interaction.

I was walking my dog through Boston bc he likes the likes car rides. He’s a little thing tbh we call him short and long. So this huge scary man with a full beard approaches me like “hey can my buddy and I pet your dog? He gets nervous around dogs but your’s is so small I think it’s a good place to start.” Ofc I was like “yes he’s very friendly!” So this guy brings his equally big friend over and they sit on the floor while this man looks terrified of my tiny dog so big man number one asks “can I pick him up?” And i say yes so he picks him up and puts him on man number two’s lap and man number two is abt to freak out and his friend straight up just goes “hey man, it’s okay just relax I’d never let anything hurt you. He’s a good boy.” I’ll never forget it ever bc I know that man looked at me (5'3 , glasses, probably wearing a sweater vest) and my dog (kinda goofy looking little thing) and was like ‘ah yes the two least intimidating living things I’ve seen in Boston all day he’ll feel relaxed around them’ and went out of his way to help his friend. It makes me so happy

My husband had this Dungeons and Dragons group ages ago, and one of the guys was TERRIFIED of cats.  The moment he sees one he freezes up and can barely breathe.  Said guy is almost seven feet tall and solid wall of muscle.  Whenever he came over I’d put the cats in the bedroom and chill out with a book because my cats don’t like being shut away without one of us. 

One of my cats was pawing at the door and meowing loudly, an indication she REALLY needs to use the litter box.  I let her out and decide, hey, I’m hungry, and decide to the kitchen.  I forgot to shut the bedroom door. 

Next thing I hear is the group going completely silent.  My husband very calmly asks me to come over and help him gather our two cats up.  I go over to where the group is and my black cat, Cacoa, is rubbing up against the guy’s leg, purring, and doing her “let me on your lap” meow.  The other cat, Jasper, is sitting at the window, chilling out.  I go over and pick up Cacoa and tell the big dude she’s harmless, loves laps, and would be thrilled if he pet her.  Very slowly he touches my cat’s face, and she leans right into his hand.  He then pets her back and sighs because she’s really soft and purring like mad.  After a few minutes he asks how to pick her up and if it’s okay if she sits on his lap.

He spent the next six hours spoiling my cat.  The next week he showed up with cat treats and toys because he fell in love with the cats.  He told me he was doing some research on house cats, and even talked to a vet about them.  A couple months later he adopted two cats and was as thrilled and excited as a new parent. 

Oh no a new one!!!

Blessed post.

I used to work at this stable for icelandic horses and every now and then this man would turn up by the field to just watch the horses. One time I walked by him as I was going to get the horses inside, and he went ”I always wanted to learn how to ride but I’m afraid of horses because they’re so huge. If I could ride ponies like this, maybe I’d dare but now I’m too big and heavy for them.” You should have seen his face when I told them that actually they’re not ponies, just small horses and they could totally carry him. His face just lit up. Next thing I’m helping him to get on back. Today he knows how to ride.

omg this is so pure <3

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cell113

This is my favorite post.

I love this post

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yekkes

It’s my opinion that like if a white supremacist/Nazi is going to be reformed. They need to do so willingly. The only times I’ve heard of successful rehabilitation of fascists is when they made the conscious decision to no longer be one anymore and seek atonement. People who try to like hug and change fascists that don’t want to change are fucking morons

Correct. I was crypto-facist for a few years, and the people trying to hug me didnt change me because at that point I wouldnt have listened. It was only when I started to see the movement for what it was that I was finally able to listen.

I’m not derailing your addition but I’m horrified you’re only 18. When did you become a fasc?

Yeah trust me it *is* horrifying. I’m ashamed of who I was and I think my only atonement is to talk about how damn easy it is to become one when you’re young.

This is gonna be a long post.

For a little bit of background, I am a mixed race person, half brown and half white. I was raised in a Muslim family and am still closeted around them.

I started to have issues with Islam at around 12 or so, when I first started to get the idea that I might be gay. Now I never would have admitted that was my reason. If you had asked me I probably would have said “logic” or something. Because of that I went hard into atheism and atheist circles.

Now people hate to admit this but ex-Muslim spaces are predominantly right wing. Ex-Muslims often see the left as “too tolerant” towards a religion that hurt them. This was the only community I had though, and I read through everything. I was 13.

The other thing that people hate to admit is that, especially when you’re young, being mixed race is so damn hard. If I acted “too white”, following my mother’s German/Austrian traditions, I was accused of hiding my true nature. But if I acted “too brown” I was just another camel jockey. So I hid my “Indian” customs from others and tried passing as white. Especially online.

So I’m not saying this is all youtube’s fault or anything. I was raised to believe that the brown half of my family was lesser and stupid. And with my hatred of Islam, I believed it doubly.

Then came Anita Sarkeesian. I was watching pewdiepie and from there my recommendations were all set. If I’m remembering the pipeline it was pewdiepie - Philip Defranco - Chris Ray Gun (sp?) - Thunderfoot - Sargon - etc. But I was pretty much acquainted with all of the right wing youtube of the day.

Funnily enough, I found her through Thunderfoot. That got me into antifeminism, and more specifically, GamerGate.

I was primarily on the subreddits KIA (Kotaku In Action) and TIA (Tumblr In Action). Both made fun of the SJWs. I kid you not, I would gleefully wait for “Sanity Sunday”, where the people would talk about how feminism is disgusting, cultural appropriation is fake, the wage gap isnt real, etc. I would scroll through this tag for hours.

I got most of my youtube recommendations from those subreddits. This led me from GamerGate to more fascist lines of thinking, such as watching videos about why BLM is a terrorist organization, why all muslims were evil rapists, and why I was fundamentally right to reject my Indian heritage and follow my “correct” heritage.

From here I delved into “race realism”, and I believed it all. I had to. This was the only community I had felt safe in. One of the fash guys even offered to shack me up at his house if my parents kicked me out for being atheist. I was 15.

To say that again, I was 15 and believed that white was right, blue lives matter, “we wuz kangs”, etc. I never would have called myself a fascist or a Nazi. How could I? I used my brown skin as a token, so that people could point to me and say: “See, we aren’t misogynistic and racist! We have this brown girl right here.” But I believed in all the things the Nazis did. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t. I will never pretend I didn’t.

But then something happened. I admitted to myself, and to a few others, that I was gay. And suddenly, the homophobia that I had molded myself in, it didn’t fit right. I happened to, by accident, click on the reddit thread of GamerGhazi, the opposition to GamerGate. And after a long bout of introspection I found out that they were accepting of gay people, that the things I had been experiencing were common, that maybe, just maybe, we didn’t need a white ethnostate.

I don’t want to be dramatic but that accidental click saved my life.

From there it was a road of recovery. I deleted all my old accounts, made new ones, and started to read leftist theory. I found better friends, cut out old people. So now, just about two years later, I’m healing.

I think that’s everything. I probably got some times and dates wrong because I’ve been trying to move on from it. But if you need more info or anything like that, please let me know.

Reblogging for anyone who’s struggling with being an ex-fascist. Feel free to message me as well, I know how scary it can be.

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having parents that were really angry and petty and abusive when you were young is weird, because it makes part of you grow up to want to be kind, to generate good things, to be a source of peace and wellbeing for others; but it makes another part of you grow up to be quick, and sharp, and spiteful, and that’s always the part that shows itself first in a hard situation, so it’s a struggle between your hateful gut reactions and your wish to not add any more misery to the world. it’s a hard balance, and the people who really, really know me - i know they see that anger flash in my eyes before i quiet it, if i quiet it…i want to overcome years of conditioning, and with gentle, constant force, i know i’ll mellow it. it just takes time.

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knitmeapony

This is why my panic attacks manifest as anger.  Unlearning it is still happening.  It will never be done.

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My doggo, Ezri, who rarely barks and mostly borks.

When I got her, she’d been abused and would cower and pee at almost everything, and had been mistreated when she’d barked, so she never would. One day months after I had her she got excited on a walk and borked at a bird, and then immediately cower-peed. I had to re-teach her to bark by gathering her whole human pack and having everyone bark and howl and feed her treats and pet her till she got excited enough to join in, and then got more treats. Took a while but I was able to teach her to bork on command (and she’s gotta be excited or she just stares at me like “Sorry, the bork system needs charging”) and she’ll do it happily when she’s excited to go for a walk or upon seeing a friend, and at birds. I love her croaky borking, especially when she started off terrified of making a joyful noise.

What kind of dog is Ezri? I love her!!

I… did not expect this post to blow up this much but I am delighted at all the tags and replies and Ezri has been told the internet thinks she’s a Very Good Dog. :D

She’s a German spitz - in the same family as keeshonds and pomeranians. She might be crossed with something else as her freckled coat, non-pointy nose, and personality are not standard for her breed (they’re usually a lot more high energy and excitable - she’s super laid back and chill). She’s a bit less fluffy than breed-standard too, mostly because she’s grown out from her spring/summer trim (not usually necessary/good for her type of coat but she gets terribly itchy otherwise). It also makes her look like a puppy of a large breed:

Ezri’s best friend is Murder Cat, who is a gentle friend to humans and Ezri, but does things to mice that would make Hannibal Lecter go “Isn’t that a bit much?”

I got Murder Cat as a kitten, and she used to try to nurse on everything when she was small. Eventually, she settled on her favourite thing to nurse on, Ezri, who has never had puppies and a little confused at first but eventually went with it. She grew out of it, but they have stayed snuggly buddies ever since.

New Years here is full of fireworks outside and Ezri gets Vry Scared. I usually set her up somewhere with a snuggly spot right by me, and Murder Cat comes and does this all night: 

She goes everywhere with me in my bakfiets (cargo bike) and lets me warm my hands in her fur on cold days.

And her ears disappear if I say her name to get her attention.

ok so great thanks for coming to my TED talk about my dog, good night, drive safe

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“My husband had a sudden heart attack a few months ago. It was just a few blocks from here. They called me in to identify his body and then just let me walk right out onto 7th Avenue. I felt so lost. My friends were wonderful and supportive but eventually everyone moves on with their lives. I don’t have children. And I’m not a workaholic. So I was left with this intense loneliness and void. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. Then one day I started researching dogs that are good for grief and depression. And ‘poodle’ kept popping up. But when I went to the rescue fair, all the poodles were gone. There was this one old dog in the back that nobody was looking at. She was skin and bones. She was trembling and scared and mucus was running out of her eyes. She seemed so fragile. She reminded me of myself. I named her Grace because I think my husband sent her to me. She’s my first dog. She’s been pure joy. We spend all our time together. She’s gained her weight back. She comes with me to therapy. We’re getting better together.”

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self-healing

recovery is not ‘soon i will be untouched, perfect, and in a permanent state of bliss. i will be healed and all will be well, forever.’

recovery is ‘i will continue to survive despite what happens, i will find ways to cope instead of continually tearing myself down. i will recover and will see myself in a light that i never thought was possible.’

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kilterstreet

Reminded of this excerpt from Getting Through the Day: Strategies for Adults Hurt as Children by Nancy J. Napier: “It also helps to remember that healing occurs in a spiral. We swing around again and again to the same old issues, but at different turns of the spiral. Each time we confront a similar feeling or reaction we have yet another opportunity to learn and to heal. Each time, we bring with us whatever new understanding we have gained since the last time we cycled through this particular difficulty.”

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star-anise

(Content notes: Child abuse, child neglect, psychological trauma)

While I was cooking dinner I had an idea so strong I had to explain to the rest of my family that I was taking my plate of food downstairs to write before I lost it, and hoped they enjoyed the meal without me.  It was one of those visions I get sometimes of a complete book, in all its beauty and complexity, that gets fully imagined over the course of the evening before I lose it again—ADHD is a bitch, and it would take a team of personal assistants and editors (and personal chefs and housekeepers) for me to be able to actually sit down and work on it. But this one felt important enough to duck out of dinner for.

A Guide to the Land of Lost Children.  Completely nonfiction, except where clearly delineated; a book about and by people who used books and rich fantasy lives to cope with their shitty childhoods. Written FOR children who ARE CURRENTLY using books and rich fantasy lives to cope with their shitty childhoods, so they have some idea of what to expect and maybe some useful bits of knowledge to help themselves out with.

I know so many people—myself included—who tried to escape into fairyland and it wasn’t enough, and that broke us, all of us, in different ways. I decided I had been stupid and wrong and magic was never real at all. I have friends who decided they’d done something wrong and lost the magic, that they weren’t strong enough or brave enough or good enough. I have friends who believed and pulled it off, made it to adulthood, and then found out that all their stories ended because who cares what happens when Hansel and Gretel go home again?

We struggled in work and school and didn’t know why. We made friends, not without problems. We went to therapy or AA or we handled it alone. Some of us became storytellers and artists and renaissance faire people and learned how to dream after the illusion broke; some of us became therapists and social workers; some of us became neo-pagans and modern witches. We accumulated diagnoses. We became things that were never in our fantasy worlds.

I want a book of part memoir, part description of what experiences like therapy or foster care are like, part nonfiction explanation about the rights of children, bullying, child abuse, and mental illness. Alternating stories of “Here’s what happened to me and how I coped with it” and “Here’s what the process of getting help looks like” and “Here’s what’s going on in your brain when you get so scared you can’t move”.  I’d love for it to be multivocal—all of these parts written by different people with different backgrounds and different experiences. 

An author whose story of childhood abuse appears in one chapter comes back in another and explains how, as an adult, they are patient and attentive to their godchild, listen to her without judgment, and quietly sit with her as she works through her upset over not getting something she wants instead of punishing her for being “wilful"—explaining that when you are a child, you accept that your parents have ultimate authority over you; but in reality, their parents’ anger and violence was wrong, and that children ought to have the expectation of safety around their caregivers.

I talk about the books I read about knights and warriors who moved noiselessly and were always alert to any danger, and how that primed me to hypervigilance, which is a symptom of PTSD; it made sense, because when I was bullied I thought I was already surrounded by enemies, but it meant I had trouble sleeping or trusting anybody. My failures to emulate my heroes, times when I wasn’t aware of every threat, were actually signs of health; signs that i could enjoy myself and be a child who sang and danced and had fun, instead of acting like a soldier in a warzone.

Straight information: no bullshit, nothing coy or twee, no hectoring. No “they had a beautiful escape in fairyland, and then got sent back to hell sixth grade” and no “he thought it was all a dream, but some small sign made him wonder… was it?” stories.  NO “adults can no longer perceive the magic” or “she is no longer a friend of Narnia” bullshit.

Just truth, pure, plain, helpful truth, about how lost children grow up into adults who have found a place and a people and a story that makes sense.

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typhlonectes

Record breaking year of Kākāpō breeding for the New Zealand Kakapo Recovery Program in New Zealand!

Find out more about efforts to save this critically endangered flightless parrot from New Zealand:

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zooophagous

!!!

No news on how many chicks were conceived through humping journalists’ heads.

Truly we are bearing witness to the recovery of nature’s most noble creature.

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If the mean people in our lives were crappy 100% of the time, it would be easy to leave them. We would shrink from becoming friends with them or jump aboard the nope rocket in the early stages of trouble, and we would feel only relief when they are gone from our lives. The problem is that very few people are evil all the time. They don’t wear villain costumes purchased at ForeverEvil. They don’t laugh maniacally and stroke their evil goatees while monologuing about their evil plans. They appear in our lives as People-Who-Would-Be-Awesome-Except-For-That-One-Glaring-Problem. They have potential to be awesome, and sometimes they are awesome, and they make us feel awesome, so we relax and let out that breath we’ve been holding in, and then BAM! They show their mean side, and we do a ton of mental work trying to reconcile the mean stuff with the awesome stuff. Breaking up brings relief, as you lose the constant mental labor of managing the relationship AND the stress of being constantly disappointed and hurt, but it also brings grief. Shitty people who forget your birthday and give little backhanded compliments and gossip about your secrets sometimes give really good hugs, or presents, or are your favorite people to get drunk and watch figure-skating with, or were the sole witness to an important time in your life. The good times were real.

I cannot express how much of a lightbulb moment it was when I realized people did not have to be unilaterally awful in order for you not to want to be in a relationship with them

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What do you think of the word “recovery” when applied to mental illness?

If you have, or have had a mental illness, I would love to hear your thoughts.

If you’re comfortable, please feel free to drop a message in my ask or submissions. Anonymous is fine! (Please let me know if publishing the post is okay.)

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annekewrites

Wow, I have super-mixed feelings about absolutely all of it.  As of today and subject to change, here are the things I think I think:

- The recovery paradigm as received from Alcoholics Anonymous is a complete garbage nightmare (see The Orange Papers for much much more on this), so the concept of “in recovery from” sets my teeth on edge.

- A lot of what is pushed as “recovery” in certain circles insists that to be truly “recovered” one must not be taking any psychiatric medication.  I can understand teh perspective but it in my view denies the experience of those who are experiencing no or mild symptoms while no medication and are able to go about and do the things they want to do.

- “Competitive paid employment” is also often held up as a Holy Grail of “rehabilitation” or “recovery” for people with psychiatric or any other disability.  No matter how horrible the job or how bad a fit it is or how undignified the working conditions, you’re “recovered” if you are doing the job and not “recovered” if you are doing something else instead that may well be better for you in the long run.  (And I know enough people who had severe recurrences of psychiatric symptoms DIRECTLY as a result of things that happened in the course of low-end paid employment.)

- That said, I tend to think of recovery/recovered as something that applies to behaviors more so than to underlying neuroatypicalities.  I used to meet the clinical criteria for Binge Eating Disorder, and now I don’t.  On the other hand, I am learning ways to work around and accommodate for my ADHD, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I don’t have it anymore.

“Recovery” in a medical sense implies, to me, a return to the “normal” state you were in before the illness.

I am never going to “recover” from my depression. It is chronic. I am never going to be the 10-year-old girl I was before it hit. She’s gone. And that’s actually okay, cause I’m 30 now. I don’t want to be a fifth grader again. As an adult, I can learn behaviors to cope with dissociation and distraction and depressive episodes. I cannot make them go away.

Part of my struggle (and the struggle of other people I’ve talked to) in re” being medicated for mental illness is that the sickness is in my brain. It’s part of my personality. If I’m being medicated for my personality, does that mean there are parts of me that are bad and wrong? What parts of me are my illness? What parts are healthy and good? What parts are wrong? If I go off my meds, it fundamentally changes who I am and how I relate to the world. To say I can “recover” from this implies to me that those parts can be excised the way you’d take out a tumor or medicate a cold. The process of mental illness is one of coping, and one of learning your limits and living in the world you can stand.

As the poster above said, certain behaviors can be mitigated– you may not drink anymore, or engage in purging or self-harm. But that doesn’t mean it’s gone. There is relapse. There is a development of a tolerance to medication. You may wake up one day and find that your jaw aches 90% of the time, but you’re too afraid of relapse to go off the medication that causes it. 

I prefer to say I’m being treated, or in treatment. Because I am sick, and I am handling it. There’s no way to test my depression enzymes and say I’m in remission. There’s no cure to my disordered eating, but there are coping strategies. 

Of course, there are people who want the ability to say they’re cured, and to them I say, go for it. Call yourself recovered. Call yourself done with treatment. Call yourself a walrus. Just don’t use it on me.

I will never be cured. I will never recover. But I will survive and I will cope and I will fight. And I will treat the illness like any other chronic illness.

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