I’m trying really hard not to but I decided to change my last name to something entirely different from my family name because I just.. I have such bad blood with them and they’re all toxic or abusive and it feels like a much needed fresh start but I also feel guilty? for doing something that I want. Something for myself..
no. one bomb ass complete sentence. we do not have to explain ourselves. &we should not feel guilty for prioritizing ourselves. saying no to what we don’t want is actually saying yes to what we do want. we are opening ourselves & freeing up time&space.
being resistant,hesitant to use “no.” is linked to our desire to have the approval of others. we believe telling the ones around us “no.” will break,ruin,end our relationships. we attach a lengthy&unnecessary explanation to soften the blow &protect the other person’s feelings.
but listen, any relationship that ends because of a self-prioritizing ”no.” needed to crash&burn. “no.” is a full sentence. you do not owe anything to anyone past that period.
Everywhere Paul preached some believed and some did not. How are we to understand why some of those who are “dead in trespasses and sins” believed and some did not? The answer why some did not believe is that they “thrust it aside” because the message of the gospel was “folly to them, and they [were] not able to understand”. The mind of the flesh “is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot”. Those who hear and reject the gospel “hate the light” and do not come to the light lest their deeds should be exposed. They remain “darkened in their understanding … because of the ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart”. It is a guilty ignorance. The truth is available. But “by their unrighteousness they suppress the truth”.
But why then do some believe, since all are in this condition of rebellious hardness of heart, dead in our trespasses? The book of Acts gives the answer in at least three different ways. One is that they are appointed to believe. When Paul preached in Antioch of Pisidia, the Gentiles rejoiced and “as many as were appointed to eternal life believed”. Another way of answering why some believe is that God granted repentance. When the saints in Jerusalem heard that Gentiles were responding to the gospel and not just Jews, they said, “Then to the Gentiles also God has granted repentance that leads to life”. But the clearest answer in Acts to the question why a person believes the gospel is that God opens the heart. Lydia is the best example. Why did she believe? Acts 16:14 says, “The Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul.”
actually bratting is bad and terrible and id never do it no no no
My husband asked if I made this. What does that say about me?
Forest. Search for something. Enchanted? Journey back home.
After a long-ish time I came back home. I had two babies to take care of, a bigger and a smaller one. They weren’t “mine” even though now I can’t remember whether I was their birth mother or not. But I was confused – why do I have them? I don’t want children.
Strangely, they were both in bottles. The bottles were filled with water and I think the whole setup was supposed to look like the womb. First, everything was ok, I checked up on them, picked the smaller one, thinking that the bigger one can wait because it’s not as fragile as the smaller one. I was convinced they are alive and well, waiting for me to feed them. And I went to feed them but I was slowly waking up and my conscious, rational mind reacted to the images and panicked. Babies closed in bottles full of water? In which I left them for a couple of days? They must be dead!
And suddenly they were dead. And I felt horrible, panicked and guilty, thinking – how the hell did this happen? Why do I even have babies?
I woke up, glad to know it was a dream.
Without saying a word to me,
they all decided to abandon me as a child. They moved on with their lives, having no guilt or remorse. Without a care in the world as to how it might effect me. They left me behind. As if I meant nothing. As if I was trash. They thought that little of me. As if I didn’t deserve to know why I wasn’t good enough for them to stay, or at least be given an explanation for their reason of departure.
And yet I’m the one who carries all the guilt.
sleeplessness and other inexorabilities
inescapable, the sense
that i’m doing this to myself.
the lingering paranoia of a year of nosebleeds
thrusts me from sleep, an adrenaline rush of
what if i’m bleeding?
(i’m nearly never bleeding. it takes thirty minutes at least
to go back to sleep.)
inescapable, the guilt
of knowing i do this to myself.
writing songs and stories that haunt me by the hour,
staying up late plagued by my own neverending
streams of thought. i want to stop.
(i don’t know who i’d be if i did. i don’t want to know.)
i want to have stopped without ever having to stop. i want
to fall asleep. i want it to be someone else’s fault for once.
it’s all this wanting that’s inescapable, i know, and it’s less
can’t stop than won’t stop
which means it’s my fault, it’s my fault and i know that,
which means this state of walking sleeplessness
is an active choice and therefore i
was right all along. it is my fault. it is my fault
and no one else’s.
For who I was, who I am, who I might be
Of anger, hopelessness, and fear
Recognized, you overwhelm
Something deep inside gnaws at my soul
How long must I contend with its shadow?
After years of growth and self doubt
Meaning inches through the door
Entirely, one day, may I find my peace
Yes, this is my second fill for this prompt lol. I came up with it while editing my JoJo one.
Only one more Febuwhump fic after this one!
For @noxbait :)
For @febuwhump prompt 23: “Don’t Look”
Fandom: Supernatural: Season 4
Synopsis: Sam has been hiding something from Dean ever since he came back and it’s not the fact he’s drinking demon blood.
Sam liked to think he was good at hiding things but Dean knew. He knew his little brother better than anything—forty years in hell wouldn’t change that—and Sam should know how stupid it was to think he could keep things from Dean. He didn’t think Sam had forgotten that much. It hadn’t even been a year for him since Dean…
Flashes of hell flickered behind his eyes with the phantom pain of Alastair’s knife and Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, breathing heavily. Okay, no thinking of hell. Especially when he was this tired. Worry about Sammy instead.
It had not been an easy hunt. They were both bashed up a little, but Sam seemed to be even worse off, slumping against the door, arm guarding his ribs protectively, eyes closed as if he were sleeping, though Dean could tell from the furrow in his brow that he wasn’t.
He seemed to perk up enough when they got to the motel, but it was all a ruse. Dean could see the blood on Sam’s shirt he was trying to hide under his jacket. Dean didn’t understand. Why the hell was Sam hiding injuries now? They had a well-practiced post-hunt routine and knew better than to hide injuries. That was the kind of crap Dean pulled, not Sam.
“You mind if I grab the shower first?” Sam asked tiredly as soon as they got into the room.
Dean furrowed his eyes. “Yeah, sure. When you’re done, let me look at your injuries.”
Sam’s jaw tightened. “I’m good. Just some bruises.” He went into the bathroom and closed the door before Dean could say anything, and soon there was the sound of the shower running.
Dean felt helpless, and he didn’t like feeling helpless, especially when it came to the care of his little brother. He grabbed the first aid bag anyway and cleaned some of his own cuts before he heard the shower turn off.
He waited, but Sam didn’t come out of the bathroom. He waited some more, and finally huffed an annoyed breath and went to knock on the door.
“Hey, you gonna give me a turn any time tonight?” he asked tiredly.
The only reply was an obviously pained cut-off gasp from the other side of the door.
“Sammy?” Dean asked, instantly concerned.
“I-I’m fine,” Sam said, voice strained. “Just…don’t look.”
Dean frowned even harder. “What, you still naked? You forget your clothes or something?”
Another sharp inhale and Dean had had enough. “Sammy, I’m coming in.”
Dean pushed the door in and saw Sam standing over the sink, bare-chested, blood dripping down onto the off-white porcelain and dirty bathroom tile as he tried to twist himself to tend an injury on his back.
He hunched, almost cowering as Dean walked in, ducking his head as exhaustion and—shame?—overcame him.
And that was when Dean looked beyond the fresh blood and saw countless other scars. Some, he obviously remembered, particularly that one in the middle of Sam’s spine, but the others were new. Still pink and shiny, some mere scratches, others indicating injuries that would’ve had to be sewn up, others the puckered blotches from stab wounds.
“What the hell?” Dean demanded, unable to fathom how Sam could have collected so many scars in the course of a year.
Except the obvious—Dean hadn’t been there to watch his back.
“It’s not that bad,” Sam mumbled.
Dean took a step closer. “Sammy, these scars…where did they come from?”
Sam just shook his head, obviously not wanting to talk about it. Dean sighed and simply grabbed the rag Sam had been trying to clean his injury with, pressing it to the deep gouge in his back right under a shoulder blade, trying to stop the bleeding a little. Sam hissed, back arching slightly. Dean glanced down at the horrifying collection of scars. There was a particularly nasty one on his shoulder, looking like it had cut right into the meat of it. He reached up to touch it carefully.
“Don’t!” Sam snapped, jerking away.
Sam sank down to sit on the closed toilet seat, hunching over to hide as much of himself as he could. He was shaking, probably from the chill in the room, despite the steam from the shower.
“You got these hunting while I was gone, didn’t you?” Dean asked quietly.
Sam looked away, fingers clenching into the meat of his arms. “I didn't…it wasn’t a good time for me,” was all he said.
Which, Dean took to mean that Sam had simply thrown himself into any fight, not caring if he got out alive. Hell, that was also something Dean did.
“That’s the kind of crap I do,” Dean told him firmly.
“Yeah, well, maybe I took up both of our positions while you were g-gone,” Sam said. “Maybe I didn’t have another choice.”
Dean hurt. A deep ache inside his chest stealing his breath. Not knowing what else to do, he simply went back to tending Sam’s wound, cleaning it before butterflying it closed and taping gauze over it. When he had finished, he helped Sam into a clean shirt and turned to clean up the supplies when Sam suddenly spat out.
“You can say it. That I’m weak.”
Dean spun around to stare at him. “That’s not what I was going to say, Sammy.”
Sam was shaking again. “I just…I couldn't…I couldn’t do it.”
“Do what, Sammy?”
Sam’s head came up, eyes wet. “Save you,” he whispered.
That was when Dean broke completely. He dropped the first aid stuff and crossed back over to Sam, simply pulling him into a firm embrace. Sam leaned against him, taking a shuddering breath.
“I tried everything and still couldn’t save you,” he choked out. “These scars just…they remind me that I’m a failure.”
“Sammy, stop,” Dean said, voice strangled. “It’s okay. You were still here waiting for me. That’s all I ever needed. And whatever’s next, we’ll figure that out later.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But you gotta stop this self-destructive crap, Sammy. Please. For me.”
Sam squeezed his waist tightly, taking a shuddering breath. “Yeah…yeah, I know.”
Dean pulled back and gripped the back of Sam’s neck, forcing him to look up and meet his eyes. “And I promise you, that from now on, I’m gonna be watching your back, little brother.”
Sam’s lips curled up in a smile and he nodded. “Yeah. Same here.”
Dean smiled back and ruffed his damp hair.
He knew things were not going to be easy from here on out, but if they could look after each other like they always had, then he thought that they would probably be okay.
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Close your eyes and Give yourself a hug. Release the guilt and sadness. See your authentic self and claim what is. Accept yourself for who you are. -w.a.m.
i don’t think parents understand how easy it is to fake getting better.
They also don’t realise that none of this is for me. I’m only trying to get better for people who love me. If they leave, i’ll spiral back down. That sounds manipulative but i’m just weak.
About guilt and shame:
Like other feelings they are at their core adaptive, but…man they can get out of hand. Guilt should be a drive to make things right. It goes wrong when you don’t believe you can make things right.
Or think that making things right means proving nothing is actually wrong (with you, anyways.) Or when you avoid it.
It also goes wrong when it functions as a button other people can push to manipulate you and get you to do what they want.
For me, it tends to go wrong in the form of overwhelm: I try to avoid it, and when I can’t I kind of shut down and just feel miserable. Sometimes I can get it to go right again by finding a thing I can do to minimize the harm or keep the thing from happening again.
I recently got drawn into discussions about the XWP series finale with fans who felt in unfair that Xena had to die for the people of Higuchi. They say this goes against everything the show stood for and had espoused over its run. I personally feel that the situations were quite nonsensical and that Xena, along with the show, was quite unfair to Xena and especially Gabrielle …but that’s kind of the whole show, y’all. Thus, the ending didn’t really bother me much. I didn’t like its message either and felt a bit annoyed by the logic and all, but, again, that second part’s not anything new for me with this show. :”)
…Um. I had other plans for this post, but I guess I’ll explain my view first since it’d be kind of weird not to now, eh? Also, doing so will give me something to link to if/when people ask me again in the future. I hope I got the details right. I didn’t bother watching …most of the episodes all that closely, actually (though I listen obsessively), before starting the FFLM series. What can I say? My mind’s not built for passive entertainment. Also, sorry; this will be a bit long and not have as many pretty pictures (nor as much effort put into getting the exact right ones, etc.) as usual. I’m so tired. :”)
ANYway, the villagers attacked Xena completely unprovoked and repeatedly; she rebuffed them. Sure, she did it in an overdramatic fashion, but she’s Xena. That’s what she does. She was inebriated and mad with grief at the time too. (Though I don’t understand why the warrior princess was so hung up on Akemi, to be honest. Xena didn’t get that emotional about the death of M’Lila, someone who died for her rather than thoroughly manipulate her, while Akemi went so far as to be the cause of Xena apparently not fully trusting Gabrielle until the couple’s final moments together… That’s really messed up, in my opinion.) Also, I can’t really blame them since they were on fire at the time, but the two Higuchi’ans were the ones who ran into stuff and set everything alight, not Xena.
Beyond all that, though… then what? So many people were in that mob. They just fled back to their houses, didn’t bother telling their neighbors about the blaze, and then waited to burn to death with everyone else? Not a one tried to save his/herself or their friends and family? And that’s Xena’s fault? I don’t get it. Places like Cirra burning down too quickly for anyone to escape, I understand. Villages on XWP generally tend to have a maximum of like ten houses each. But 40,000 (?!?!?!) people all just sat around in their domino-burning homes, silent and motionless whilst being roasted alive?
Nobody heard or felt a thing? Nope, they all slept through their entire city incinerating with them in it. No human screamed, dog barked, cat meowed, owl hooted, wood popped, building collapsed; whatever? Nope! All quiet in Burnyville. Nothing going on here to get a person out of bed! Friggin Callisto escaped her tiny village’s sudden immolation, but no one got out of a city-wide disaster? Yup. Meanwhile, Xena stumbled away from the retreating mob and then blacked out stone-cold drunk. She couldn’t have gotten very far slip-sliding in wooden shoes on ice like she was, and she was full of and holding accelerant, and yet, somehow, the fire that spread over acres and acres of land didn’t touch her. The one person with an excuse for having no awareness of the danger around her escaped without a single burn.
No, no! I get it! Nobody’s mad at Xena for indirectly causing their ridiculous deaths or miraculously surviving when no one else did. It’s because Yodoshi, the guy Akemi killed, was so evil that the underworld wouldn’t take him in, so he turned right around and ate the souls of his countrymen; that’s Xena’s fault! …Oh. No? Then, what is it?
And what were the multitude of souls and their avenger doing for the next forty-plus years? Were the dead Higuchi’ans still sleeping? Heck, they dozed through becoming crispy critters en masse, so they were probably fine in Yodoshi’s belly. Why not just leave them alone? Why decide to come after Xena at all, and then wait so long to do it? Did the ghost-killer, despite devoting his entire life to redeeming his lost compatriots, wait fifteen years to seek Xena out after the incident, only too find the ice cave and shout, “I’ll be back in twenty-six years for revenge, warrior woman! Mark my words!” while shaking his fist at it? Or, perhaps Harutaka came back every year after Ares entombed Xena to see if she’d woken up from being dead yet? No? Something else? He sure as heck didn’t bother trying to find her the rest of the time she was a warlord or her first five years with Gabrielle. Don’t tell me that he tried but failed. Friggin dumb-butt Joxer found Xena and Gabrielle every few weeks, any time, anywhere, and-
Okay, that’s enough of that. I could go on and on forever. heh The main point I’m interested in here is the morality. Let’s pretend the whole thing makes sense. Xena directly and willfully committed a horrible atrocity against the people of Higuchi, and their avenger came after her in a much more timely manner. What makes those 40,000 souls so special that Xena had to sacrifice herself for them? Why was Xena not also spiritually-accountable for the 100,000 Chinese people she turned to stone without warning, then? What about any of the other thousands of victims she wracked up over her lifetime? Why was she so much more beholden to the Higuchi’ans who actually victimized her, twice over? None of this makes sense.
Original main point, finally: There is an interesting contrast between Xena and other evildoers on this show. Fans are so quick to absolve Xena of her past misdeeds while condemning other characters for doing the same things Xena did. This stands out most strongly to me when Gabrielle engages in the same double-think for Xena vs. Crassus. The emphasis in the following quotes is mine, for illustrative purposes.
What the warrior princess told the bard about Cirra originally in the episode “Callisto”: It was just another village to conquer, nothing out of the ordinary. A fire broke out, and I don’t know if it was one of my men or just an accident, but there was a strong wind, and those flames just swept through that town like a wave of death. But the people were huddled in their houses, ’cuz they were afraid of my army. That was one time when my army was responsible for the death of women and children.
Xena onstage with Gabrielle in attendance, “A Necessary Evil”: Many years ago, there was a village called Cirra. It was a village just like yours— small a-and prosperous, full of life— until a day that my army came. Until the day that I came; destroyed it. Under my orders, my men— they sacked the village, burned the houses, and killed every living thing. Everything was destroyed.
Crassus to Gabrielle on Gardenis, “When in Rome”: That was, regrettable. I was away to the north, chasing bandits when it happened. The soldiers responsible were crucified.
Vercinix to Gabrielle on Gardenis, “When in Rome”: We have a blood debt to settle from Gardenis. My brother and his family were there. Crassus personally ordered the massacre. I found my niece crucified. She told me before she died.
Is this not the same thing? And yet, Gabrielle and most of the viewing audience choose death for Crassus while letting Xena’s very similar acts and change of story slide unquestioned. …Why?
I know what I feel towards you is everything but love.. So I shouldn’t give you false hope.. I should probably let you go..
But the way you call my name everytime I avoid you brings me back to you. I lost them all over time they all turned their backs and I couldn’t call for them only you didn’t, only you stayed. After a fight, after everytime I swore to completely cut ties with you, you broke through every wall and everything was earased instantly. It’s funny how I play hard to get even though we both know I only have you and I need you more than you’ll ever need me. The more I think about you the worse I feel about myself. Deep within I want you only for myself, I selfishly want you to choose me over her even if I have nothing to offer in exchange.
I wish you happiness from the bottom of my heart yet there is this rotten part that tells me otherwise and I am left with a sour feeling of pity and disgust to the person I became. I wonder if you’d see me the same if you found out, I wonder how long you’ll keep up with me before you get fed up and leave too. If that ever happens I know I won’t do anything to stop you.
I’ll just be alone but I am used to it.