Having intrusive thoughts about, e.g., murder, does not inherently actually make one a murderer.
Accusing someone of actual murder, when they only admitted to intrusive
thoughts about murder, does literally no good to anybody.
There is literally no good outcome of conflating thinking about some horrible act and actually doing the thing. That way lies Orwellian thought-crime-policing absurdity.
Why the hell are people acting on the opposite assumption?
(Ironically, many of the people throwing around claims like this will then go and throw around actual death and violence threats / wishes, among other things – which seriously undermines their credibility, to say the least.)
As someone who’s had a literal lifetime of absolutely horrific intrusive thoughts (anyone can ask me about ‘em, I’m an open book, it’s for the better) I find this site’s attitudes towards them……………um. Disappointing.
Does anyone else have like. Anxiety-related memory problems. Like, after you do something, you start wondering if you messed something up or did something wrong, and you get really anxious over possible mistakes you made and you genuinely can’t remember if you made those mistakes or not?
Like for example maybe you write someone a letter and then after sending it you start imagining you made some terrible mistake and despite the fact that you yourself wrote and proofread and sent it, you can’t remember if you did or not?
It happens to me a l o t and it’s terrible and scary because I can’t trust my own memories when I’m anxious
I do that thing with letters ALL THE TIME, so I always take a picture of them with my camera phone before I send them.
^This anon appears to be in response to a post of mine where I say:
You can be angry about things but still make the conscious decision not to be cruel. When we remind each other to be kind, we’re not saying don’t be mad. There’s a lot of stuff to be mad about right now. But you can still be a kind and patient person. You don’t have to be mean to other people. You can choose.
Oh yeesh, is this for real? Anon, here, from my FAQ:
Not your fault you didn’t know, but it’s just sloppy on your part to not even try to find out if the person you’re mad at for literally reminding people that they have the choice to be kind (? be nice? is all I’m trying to say) is NT or not. (Not that it would be okay to do this to someone who is NT for promoting kindness?)
Look, I hate having to do this tumblr oppression checklist schwarbage every time people accuse me of being *~the enemy~* because my experiences and opinions don’t match their elitist and radical narrative of how someone like me should FEEL about everything I’ve been through.
Calling someone with several literal neurological disorders that mark me as disabled an NT is… ouch! You lose a point there, kiddo.
What particular response were you hoping with this sort of message? Did you stop to think that you are messaging a stranger and you know very little, no, in your case, even less than a little about? I was beaten as a kid, for crying out loud, and you’re telling me how *~nice~* it is for me that after a lifetime of struggling relating to what happened to me (yo, I didn’t actually find out I have PTSD until my mid 20′s) I finally learned to stop being a hostile, moody, unstable, turbulent, prickly, hissing person and I started the journey of getting back in touch with myself.
Realizing that came at the same time as a bunch of other really heavy stuff with my health and loss, and for a minute I got hooked into the whole bullying = social activism thing, and I’m telling you right now—If you wanna be that good person, someone who can set a good example for other people to be good too, to be kind, to not hurt each other, to be conscious, to be aware, then you have to let go of the part of your ego that is making you think that getting asspats and morality points for being mean to literal strangers on the internet and making hurtful assumptions about them based on your own closed-mindedness.
That doesn’t save the world. That doesn’t save other people like me who are wired differently either from birth or from illness or from trauma.
You have the ability to be someone you can be proud of, and the way you are acting right now is nothing to pat yourself on the back over.
Please, in the future, before you mindlessly send a message like this: do your homework and ask yourself if what you are doing is something someone who cares about making life better for people would do.
Many circles on tumblr want people like me to believe that because all this bad stuff happened and things are pretty rough for me on a day to day basis, that I am now permanently angry and mean because why should I owe anyone my kindness—But it’s not that I feel I owe my kindness and patience. It’s asking, what does this opportunity present to me if I take a deep breath and approach it with compassion?
Yes, even I mess up and snap sometimes when I’m mad! It’s a human thing! No one is perfect. But we gotta just own up to it and get back to doing our best to be conscious.
See, there, you being a knucklehead gave me the chance to talk about something important. A good lesson in never assuming things about people! Ding-dong, class dismissed.
Also, the anon is pretty clearly implying that only NTs are nice.
I know SJ makes it sexy to be angry, but do you really want to convince all the NTs that none of you are nice?
That seems to me like shooting yourselves in the foot, honestly.
Also, if you really want to spread the message that disabled people aren’t capable of choosing to be kind, please consider people like me, who actually WANT nondisabled friends.
You can think I’m silly, you can think I’m naive, you can think I’m destined for heartbreaking betrayal and haven’t lived long enough to know it yet (even though I’m likely older than you), but you’re being a real jerk if you tell people things that lead them to avoid me because I’m too disabled to be kind.
The most saddening thing to me is that this kind of people acts like being good is almost something you’re destined for, and being cruel something you’re doomed to.
And I get that. Honestly, I completely get feeling like you’re just destined to be a monster. But that’s no way to live.
I’ve lived like that before, thinking nothing kind I could ever do would ever make me good, beause I was too fucked up, so I should either learn to embrace cruelty or succumb and… it was probably the worst thing I ever experienced. Arguably worse than sex dysphoria. 0/10 would not recommend.
That’s not a kind of thing you want other people to feel like, anon, and if it’s how you feel, then please talk to other people who’ve been through it. You are not doomed to be a monster just because you feel like that’s the only option.
If you feel like that, your illness is lying to you. Your illness wants you to suffer. That’s entirely why it tells you those things. Now imagine your illness was some jackass telling someone you love the same things, what would you feel like doing? If the answer is “punch it in the face”, that’s the same kind of thing you should try to feel towards it when it does that to you. You may not be able to punch it in the face, but you can certainly tell it to stick it.
If you feel like that, your illness is lying to you.
If you feel like that, your illness is lying to you.
If you feel like that, your illness is lying to you.
As someone with OCD I honestly think OCD is up there with some of the most misunderstood mental illnesses by the general public because so many times I’ve seen that even when people get that it’s not just like “oh I organized all my Buffy DVDs today, I’m so OCD”, they honestly, well-meaningly, genuinely think that it’s just that kind of thing but taken to the level of a disorder? That it is just an obsession with making things tidy or free of germs to the point of it interfering with their everyday life.
But that’s simply not true; OCD is an extremely complex mental illness which manifests in myriads of different ways for different individuals, with primary symptoms being severe, repeated intrusive thoughts which are extremely emotionally distressing to the individual (called “obsessions”, although it’s not an on-purpose obsession— the individual doesn’t want to be having these thoughts, but they won’t leave) and a specific kind of impulse control disorder.
People with OCD develop really specific “rituals”, often related to their intrusive thoughts (for example, Repeated mental image of loved ones dying → Feels compulsed to text their loved ones literally every five minutes and ask if they are okay, the whole day). Since these “rituals” are almost always self-destructive (for example, many people with OCD develop a ritual of self-injury) or destructive to relationships or jobs or hobbies or other aspects of a person’s life, these actually do nothing to quell the anxiety, and in fact make it worse, but the person with untreated OCD feels literally unable to stop. Additionally, almost all people with OCD experience some degree of magical thinking and for many people (including myself) OCD includes various degrees of psychotic symptoms. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg; OCD can manifest in everything from motor control to executive functioning.
It’s a severely complex illness and it’s sad that it goes so often misunderstood and underdiagnosed. I think OCD awareness is really important!
The reaction to Jake Lloyd’s illness has made me so angry. Seriously. For every supportive article, there’s a clusterfuck of cruel, mocking, ableist comments (this small sample is not even the worst of them) and I am also mentally ill and I am sad and I am furious.
Does the problem lie with nerd culture? Does the problem lie with Star Wars fans? (Bit of overlap between those two, I know.) Does the problem lie with society in the general, and its innate ableism? God knows. But I am incredibly disillusioned with Star Wars fandom, I really am.
(You can donate to Star Wars Fans for Jake Lloyd here, if you wish. Also, help us floodtheInternet with support for him? God knows, he could use it.)
From one mentally ill person to another, I suppose.
Lots of people have drawn fanart of young Anakin, lots of people I know liked his performance – maybe we could get together as a group and send him something? A fanzine, a video, a card even, just – something. Something that might help.
I don’t know how I’d get in touch with him, mind. He’s got a Facebook page, but it hasn’t been updated in over a year. But assuming I/we could – would anyone be interested? Would anyone want to contribute fanart or other cool stuff? Please, please let me know. If enough people are interested I’ll set up a subtumblr so people can bounce around ideas, so please reblog this, if you can!
So I’m home sick and caught Turn Left on repeat and it just made me miss the earlier days of Who, when the risk was real, when the characters and their hopes and their dreams and their wonder and awe at being companions and seeing the whole of time and space laid out before them was all so much more real and true.
Who hasn’t felt like Rose, stuck in a rut with a dead end job? Or like Martha, too smart for her own good? Or Donna, precious Donna, a failure as an adult, stuck on the ‘wrong’ side of 30, too loud, too unmotivated, still living at home? Compare with Amy or Clara, two young, pretty girls, whose characters were practically blank slates with ‘cool’ approved snark and wardrobes. Women who could’ve been brilliant – who could’ve been real. Even River, who begins as a woman who sacrifices herself for love careens wildly from states of cartoonish behavior to a heartbreaking portrayal of a woman aging in society.
These were real people with real fears and real hopes, and real joys and loves and goals and ambitions. The character and the world were specific – which allowed them to be universal because in these characters and in these worlds we could see our own, our own wardrobes, our own insecurities, our own fish and chip shops and department stores. The effects were cheesy and low budget, but it felt more real than the new series, with all the money and none of the heart. We can’t go back, but I hope with Steven Moffat’s departure, they’ll be a return to Russell T Davies’ sense of heart, empathy and compassion. He loved his characters, he loved their flaws and their quirks and their neuroses and their half-empty cups of cold coffee and their leftover sandwich wrappers and the dirty laundry on the floor.
And so did I.
Because in loving them, it showed me that it’s ok to be stuck in a dead end retail job, because it’s a job and you are not your job. And that it was ok to be too smart for your own good, because you can use that to pull yourself out of whatever it is you’re stuck in. It’s ok to be living at home with your family, to be a disappointment, to be loud and obnoxious because you can still be loved. You can still be valued. You can look outside of yourself, outside of your pain, your selfishness, your ego and become something more. You don’t become worthy of love You have and will always be worthy of love. You just become aware of the fact that you deserve love.
You know, there’s a lot of great sentiment in your post. But I take issue with your claim that the RTD era was somehow more “real” or had more “heart” than the Moffat era, because I identify more with the Moffat era. I see more aspects of myself and my life reflected in his characters and his stories than I did with the RTD era. And I know I’m not alone in that.
Moffat’s stories and characters are not less real or less risky, and their wonder, awe, empathy, and compassion are not less true or beautiful. Remember that time Amy gave hope to Vincent Van Gogh, and every viewer who struggles with trauma, loss, or mental illness? Remember how heartbreaking it was when Amy realized that they ultimately didn’t save Van Gogh’s life, but the Doctor helped her to see that what they did was still a good thing and it mattered? Remember that time Moffat made you feel pity for Davros, and Missy, and you thought, wow, yes, compassion is that important, even for your worst enemy? Remember how many different ways Moffat illustrated that relationships, both romantic and friendly, are hard and we screw them up all the time but they’re still worth fighting and dying for? Remember how he spent two whole seasons exploring what heroism means–that it’s not about being good, because we’re all just idiots, but that when we try to be good, we can make the whole universe better? Remember the time he gave us one of the most compelling speeches ever recorded about war, which spoke directly to real events happening in the real world? Remember when Clara taught you that an ordinary schoolteacher, not by being inherently special but by being a teacher and choosing to be brave and kind and never giving up, and teaching others to do so as well, can profoundly affect another person, and another, and another, and maybe also the whole universe–even though she also still screws up a lot? Maybe you don’t; maybe those messages didn’t resonate with you like they did with me.
You’ve said some beautiful things about the power of RTD’s stories. I
adore “Turn Left” and I love Donna and Martha and Rose and I really
enjoy a lot of the RTD era and I love the man forever for bringing
Doctor Who back. It’s fine that the RTD era resonates more with you, and that the Moffat era resonates more with me. We’re different people and we have different lives and different tastes. And I’d be happy to talk more about the creative merits and failings of RTD’s soap-opera take on Doctor Who vs. Moffat’s dark fairy-tale approach. But we’d have to agree to talk about it in other terms, because don’t tell me that my life, and my heroes, and my stories, are less “real” or valuable than yours.
Who hasn’t felt like Rose, stuck in a rut with a dead end job? […] Compare with Amy or Clara, two young, pretty girls, whose characters were practically blank slates with ‘cool’ approved snark and wardrobes. Women who could’ve been brilliant – who could’ve been real.
I seriously resent being told I identify with Rose Tyler having a dead end job more than Amy, Clara, or River. It’s BS. Amy Pond, Clara Oswald, and River Song are some of the most complex–and wildly different–female characters and I am very proud to find myself to some degree in them. But if I was forced to choose just one, there’s no doubt I’m Clara. It’s almost mind boggling how accurately Clara Oswald represents me as a woman, as an English/book nerd who idolizes the power of stories, as a dress/skirt lover, as a 20-something in the 21st century who sucks at hooking their laptop up to the Internet, as someone who enjoys recognizing social conventions so I can use them or subvert them to my own ends, as … you get the idea.
I am not a “blank slate” and neither are of my friends who are Clara Oswalds, Amy Ponds, River Songs, or any combinations thereof. Let’s not pretend otherwise.
Who hasn’t felt like Amy Pond, disbelieved by the world for so long that you’re not entirely sure you believe yourself, full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with, struggling with the suicidal moments, desperate not to be abandoned—
Well, actually, not everybody. Me, I relate to her in part because I have an invisible disability, a chronic pain condition, and I really, really get being disbelieved. And then there’s the depression angle. I mean, it’s very possible that Amy Pond is much more relatable to people with mental or physical conditions than she ever will be to people who are able-bodied and mentally healthy.
But that doesn’t mean that she’s impossible to empathize with. People can understand and connect to all sorts of characters that aren’t like them. And honestly, if you take a look at a character, see that they’re not like you, and declare them an empty shell—well, please think about what that says to people who do relate to that character. When you say that Amy is not “real” and that nobody can relate to her, what are you saying to disabled people? When you object to River having a fun and funny side in addition to her struggles, what are you saying to abuse victims, or older women? When you say that Clara is a blank slate, what are you saying about women who invent masks to deal with family, or society, or their own sexuality?
You don’t have to like characters, or relate to them, or even empathize with them, but don’t tell us that we don’t exist. Personally, I’ve had a lifetime of being told that I’m not experiencing what I’m experiencing, and I can do without that.
The moment in which I related to Amy possibly more than I’ve ever related to a fictional character is that bit at her wedding when she stands up and starts shouting out for the Doctor, sounding like she’s having a mental breakdown (and for all she knows, she is.) And you see her family members react: her aunt Sharon puts her face in her hands, her mother winces “The psychiatrists we sent her to!…”
Looking back on her experience with mental health issues, Mara Wilson wishes someone had told her that being depressed and having anxiety was OK. Since no one did that for her growing up, she’s taking the opportunity to tell young people now. The former child actress and current writer teamed up with Project UROK, a nonprofit organization devoted to helping teens with mental illness.
