Live

Complex PTSD is subtle and tougher than a batch of cordyceps in the ground, but hopefully my training and work will continue to provide me with needed awareness.

With my Complex PTSD, I spent the majority of my time intensifying my self-hatred for the biggest strengths anyone would've wished for.

I never had a welcoming audience for my proud achievements. I particularly thought it was vile to even consider a sliver of pride from my own heart. I felt ashamed and incredibly selfish for even considering it.

I had made my mistakes but I have survived and thrived, and never looked back. I am very strong, willful, confident, empowered, and curious.

I do not seek to exist to sate other people's (especially those who'd already sullied themselves to lives they hate) hunger for something good. I don't think it's my mission anymore, it shouldn't even be though.

As I finished my therapy, there was a realized relief that seemed unshakeable. After chasing subtle improvements to better my mood, most of the time for the betterment of others and not me, I finally saw where the gap was. It was the simple practice of letting the inner child come and play with you.

I wondered why it hurt doing what I thought would be good for me. I knew I was stepping into better places and much authentic healing but the missing part was, I was absurdly mean to myself. I still agree with the opinions of my perpetrators and sometimes, spiral down into incessant negative thinking for the self, for the sake of self-punishment.

I was just agreeing with everyone regarding the failing state of my being for the sake of belonging and it hurt more than I realized. I continue to perpetuate my life as a never-ending whipping and smug eyes from abusers because of this. So, even when I do my best to do the "good things", I was still stuck to the gravest sense of hurt--because I didn't care for the inner child, I cared for other people.

From now on, I'll give time to my inner child like I give time to my meditation and yoga. After all, once I see and become sure of the practice, I will be persistent. Because that is my true nature.

After a few years outside of this blog, I had a lot of worthy learnings and a decidedly happier life, I am going back here just to embrace my knack for writing and pouring my heart out for creativity.

In 1978, Nick Goode willingly set out a killer in a summer camp. Hence, putting kids in danger. Nick and Ziggy started a dalliance of their own, with the implication that this might be Nick's "redemption" since he had "guilt" and it's "not who I want to be". Despite these chances, he still went ahead and pursued the deal with the Devil. With Ziggy thankfully realizing that this Nick kid is dishonest and malicious. After all, he steadfastly denied the witch's curse Cindy died for.

In 1994, Nick Goode continued to pursue the family deal while still having the chance to turn things around and stop the curse once and for all. His love for Ziggy is still shown as a proof that he's a really kind man underneath all those curses. He's not. He knows what he's doing.

I like the spotlight on the actual victims of the witch hunts hundreds of years prior—the women “suspects”. We see the stealth judgement of women out of norms, and as they burn at the stake or hanged at high trees, their identities are now forever marred by the insubstantial labelling of their person. Almost all judgments done by expectant men. This view is not yet effectively showed in film or other media, but the final Fear Street movie effectively put us in the shoes of Sarah Fier as she grappled with societal expectations and forbidden love. She’s a hero in that sense—realizing the helplessness of the situation and still fighting for the person she loves. Which brings me to my next point…

The movies starred lesbians. Yes, in a genre like horror, there’s not much (or none at all) films that feature lesbian leads. Fear Street was truly effective in the sense that, there’s a particular highlight on society’s view on lesbianism, but also flagging relationships like this as normal. And as Deena fought the witch to save her girlfriend, for the first time ever, we see ourselves in the shoes of the hero. We relate so much and the connection is genuine. Our hearts are filled with joy because we see a reflection of ourselves doing things we found it difficult to imagine we could do.