*TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions Of Su*c*d*l Ideations And Feelings And Depression.*

Liberals are significantly more likely than conservatives to be depressed, anxious, to rank high on neuroticism and to be diagnosed with mental illnesses and disorders.

- Musa al-Gharbi

This is a fascinating deep dive article by Musa al-Gharbi, a professor of sociology at Columbia University, for American Affairs Journal entitled, “How to understand the well-being gap between Liberals and Conservatives”

It explains a great deal of what’s unfolding in real time.

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who has trouble remembering developmental milestones. I put these together, but can’t take credit for any of the photography. Hope someone finds them helpful!

oliverstarkk: Thanks for having me @/abookof - you can purchase my collectors issue through the link on their page x

THE LITTLE MERMAID (1989) dir. John Musker & Ron Clements THE LITTLE MERMAID (2023) dir. Rob Marshall

'weird' queer people are so important to this community. yes the ones with contradicting labels. yes the ones that use labels that no one can tell how the hell they could be put together. yes the mspec lesbians, gays, and straights. yes the multigendered person that uses straight && lesbian / gay. yes the men that are lesbians. yes the women that are mlm. yes the gaybians and lesgays. yes the person that uses purely xenogenders && neopronouns. and quite literally everyone that has some form of weird label(s). you are so important, please keep being weird with gender && sexuality, because you are so fucking awesome.

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 Part 2 6:32pm

Now, I introduce you to our new roles. I became the “golden child”; conditioned to get the perfect grades and carry out all orders timely and perfectly. I was the “nanny and pseudo-parent”; directed to take care of my siblings, provide food for them, get them ready for school, help with homework, and handle any misbehaving and report only the extremes. I was the “maid”; the only child in the house with chores, which meant I had all of them, even cleaning up after my “parents”. And, I was the “butler”; I had to deliver everyone their plates, eating last, and take James’ dishes after every meal and bring him a hot cloth to clean his hands. I became depressed, anxious, and extremely hyper-independent, curling in on myself and realizing this is not what “home” should feel like. I was “maturing” fast, and my adults took advantage of it.

Anthony was the “rebellious child”. He was more outwardly angry, picked fights at school, and sought comfort in his friends. He wasn’t trusted with responsibility, so he didn’t receive any. And, eventually, the rules and standards that were established with me, as the oldest, didn’t work with him. He gradually grew more and more distant with the family, as I was becoming the crutch for them.

My two little sisters, and soon-to-be youngest brother, were raised more graciously, still servants to the king and with the same emotional detachment. Thankfully, they never had to experience the abuse that Anthony and I had to endure. So, while they love their father, because that’s all they know, they don’t know the true terrors of that man, and I’m truly grateful that they won’t ever go through that. 

My mother suffered as you put all of the parenting responsibilities onto her, as you forced her to attend to every need and want you spoke of, as you made her shoulder the finances to keep the house fed and taken care of. You, however, would go to your job (I can’t even remember which one because you job-hopped so much), come home, claim and monopolize the washer and the bathroom for hours, shut yourself in your room to watch “your” TV, beg and call for “your wife” to come spend time with you while asking her to do everything for you, ignore your kids and yell at them to stay quiet, and go to sleep. This is your daily routine, even now in the present.

I left my home because of you. I was 10, and my father had reappeared back in my life for the past 2 years. After visiting him twice, he offered me to come live with him, and I took it because anything’s better than here, right? WRONG. My dad is a whole other story, but I came back after a year. You would think that would be enough time for change to take hold, but it didn’t, and how could there when the space is constantly suffocated and stifled with immaturity, unintelligence, and vitriol. 

The standard was to get all the chores done before you got home and without being told, which is normal, if you disregard the fact that you threatened to beat us within an inch of our lives if we didn’t do so. You did plenty of times before. Having to hide bruises with long-sleeved shirts, oversized hoodies, and pants in the summer, and excusing ones on my face with stories of rough-housing or accidental falling against a cabinet. 

The standard was to watch the kids at all times, and make sure that they don’t get into trouble. Once, when Malia was learning to stand up on her own, she fell and hit her forehead on a vent, while I was changing a movie for Anthony and I. I was beat and blamed for that accident, and wasn’t allowed to watch anything because my focus should be on them. Once, Anthony locked both Malia and Jasmyn in the car with the keys as they were still infants, and I was inside putting on my shoes, my “parents” still taking their time to leave for church. After I tried calming Anthony down from a panic attack and telling James, Anthony was stomped in the chest against a fence, my mom barely getting him off, and I was punched in shoulder and shoved against concrete while you spat that I should have never let it happen. We were left at home that day. 

Once, I was riding in the trunk with the top open, as we got home late, and a shooting happened right in front of me in the street, us kids still in the car in the driveway. You and Mom were in the house because we weren’t allowed out of the car until you said so. You were angry that I didn’t do more to protect my siblings, that I confided in my teacher what happened, and that I woke you up when police came banging on the door at 2am. I was 11. And I had nightmares for months.

Once, you threw Anthony against the washer and beat him in front of your two extended family members at Christmas because he took too long to take out the garbage. Then, your family decided to praise you for it and talk about it, as if it wasn’t brutal and my mom didn’t have to pull you off of him.

Things got better in their own way after my youngest brother was born. I was 12, almost 13, at the time. You magically stopped. I still don’t know what changed to make you stop.

But I still wasn’t your kid.

You started to refer to me and Anthony as “boy”, and nothing else. You made sure to tell us and show us that we were separated from our siblings. You would probably say that we had to earn our keep or that we learned some lesson, but that’s not the truth. You have other kids that are much older than us, and you never contact them or tried to do right by them. I think when my mom told me that years ago, I should have realized sooner the type of man you are.

Part 1 -- Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Mina: Tell us, is there other spirit in this dorm?

Ouija board: Y-E-S

Jirou: Great, your portion of the rent is 1000¥. It's due the first of the month.

Ouija board: W-T-F

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish by Joseph Feinsilver

I’ve gained some new followers lately, and over the last few days, I’ve been thinking about being more active on this page. I honestly started this page to occasionally post some of my journal writing as a way to connect with people that I will never meet. Just to have something that will mean something more than what I was feeling in the moment.

I think I’ll continue doing that more often now, but not with the idea of doing it to “connect with others”. I want to truly do it for myself and to make content that is real and if people read it, they can relate or feel inspired by it. I think this is great way for me to pour into something that brightens my life more. So engage if you like, and if you don’t, that’s fine too! Cheers to 2023! 🎉