For me that was a big part of her story — she was TRYING to ask, in the only way that made sense to her given her circumstances and the way her world shaped her, and the issue was that Freddie could not respond.
Monthly Archives: July 2012
But I do expect people to behave like mature adults and recognize when they are pushing things on other people.
It’s the difference between asking for help or support and expecting it to be there and being upset when it isn’t.
The bitch, please was not because she’s depressed and I expect her to magically get over it (I don’t) but because she’s an expectant, selfish twat. If she had asked for help instead of just expecting it, I’d be more sympathetic.
Completely skipping all the rest of this interesting discussion, I have to address these lines here. I’m going to try to do so in a nice way, but I’m probably not going to succeed very well, because this is a big old red button for me.
People who are chemically depressed, even outside of anything at all in their life affecting them and/or causing depressive feelings, frequently cannot just ask for support. This is in fact one of the symptoms of that type of depression, an inability to reach out to others in any way for assistance.
For all that you (iwanttobebutterflies) claim to have experienced depression, I’m going to be cruel here and say no. No, you haven’t. You’ve obviously had a shit time in life and been screwed quite hard by social stuff, but you would not be able to say what you have said there if you had ever experienced that kind of chemical depression.
It is a horrible, sucking, gripping — no. I can’t even put it into words. I don’t want to. Nobody should feel it, even vicariously. But it is characterized by an inability to ask for help, to reach out, in some cases even by an inability to even recognize that you are suffering an illness and not just a horrible person.
Yes, you’re right in one thing: she was expectant, and selfish.
Don’t you dare say that like it was a bad thing. People have a right to be expectant regarding folk around them noticing how they feel and react to the world. People have a right to put themselves ahead of other folk occasionally. Does it cause problems? Fuck yes. It always will; we aren’t mindreaders and we all live in bone cages.
I’m expressing some of this very poorly. But in short, to say that “It’s the difference between asking for help or support[,] and expecting it to be there and being upset when it isn’t.” is to completely and utterly misconstrue Hester’s issues, and to wholly misunderstand what depression actually is.
Hester didn’t ask for help in a way other than suicide because she was not capable of doing so. It’s that simple.
Starfall
Sigyn essayed a slight smile, ducking her head. “Sometimes I dream of falling. It’s always dark, but the worst part,” she hesitated, “is the solitude.” She shivered just calling up the memory of that absolute absence. Fear closed its hand around her throat, and involuntarily she gripped Loki’s arm more tightly.
He stopped walking at her words, shocked and ill at ease with his own memories.
*Loki, this is madness…*
The frozen emptiness that had swallowed him whole.
*No, Loki…. no…*
He clenched her hand and looked at her with sympathy. “That is… truly… terrifying. I don’t… I know of no other… ordeal so vile as utter isolation… “
Sigyn stopped with him, turning to look. His face seemed to freeze, as if her words had called up some private helheim, before life returned to those glorious green eyes. “I d-didn’t me—did … ” Sympathy tangled her words, before she managed to spill them out. “Please tell me you speak as a metaphor.”
Both her hands grasped at his. She gazed up into his face. “No one should have to endure that.”
Loki was perplexed at her reaction. A flash of confusion and disbelief crossed his face. Was there truly someone in the nine realms who did not know of the tumultuous, near unforgivable events that had taken place not long ago?
He quickly put up a cracked mask of good humour and smiled weakly.
“Ah, no my dear, but tonight is not the night to talk of such things.” He gave her hand a squeeze to put her mind at ease. He looked around. “Where are your chambers? We should get you tucked away.”
She glanced around as well. “I … I’m actually not sure, from here. I must have walked farther than I realised. I don’t know where I am.” Freeing her hands, she reached out and laid a palm on the wall, frowning gently. “An outlying wing … “
A slight silver mist pooled around her fingertips, curling along the wall and out of sight. She closed her eyes, then laughed slightly. “I really have no idea how I got here.” Looking back at Loki, Sigyn shrugged. “I’m lost.”
He watched the magic spiral out from her fingers and smiled. Another layer, more to know and explore. More captivating every minute.
“Well, at this late hour, I would hate to wake any of the staff up and my chambers are not far from here.” He smiled, “I promise to be a perfect gentleman, there is a couch that I usually sleep on in any case. Will that be acceptable for this evening?”
Sigyn stared. “My lord, I … I couldn’t possibly put you out of your own bed.” She ducked her head again, trying to hide behind her hair. “I would be glad to borrow your couch, though.” With a small sigh, she explained softly, “I shouldn’t want to be alone tonight in any case.
She laid her hand back on Loki’s arm, glancing up, and said, “Truly, you usually sleep on a couch?”
He gave a short laugh and grinned from ear to ear, “Yes, I prefer it to the bed… perhaps it is strange, but, well,” he shrugged a little, “I do as I like.”
He brushed her hair back from her face so he could more readily see her violet eyes, his finger tips tenderly caressing along her cheek.
“Would you object to a little magic on my part?” he asked curiously.
Tingles danced over Sigyn’s skin where Loki’s fingers brushed. Her eyes fluttered closed briefly; she sucked in a swift breath. “No, of course not.” Another breathless laugh escaped her. “My poor skills have been of little help.”
He gave an impish smile, pleased at her reaction to his slight touch. He grabbed her around the waist, keeping eye contact and snapped his wrist around. There was a flash of bright blue light and suddenly they were standing in his bed chambers.
He didn’t immediately release her from his grasp.
Sigyn gazed around in amazement, hands resting lightly on his arms. Of course the rooms of a prince of Asgard would be almost overwhelmingly elegant, but the casual ease with which he had accomplished the teleport was equally breathtaking.
She turned a brilliant smile on Loki. “That was wonderful!”
This is Scarlett Johansson at a beach in Hawaii.
She is one of the most gorgeous women in the world and a huge sex symbol. She isn’t totally skinny, she only has a thigh gap if she stands with her legs apart and she has cellulite and stretch marks on her thighs and butt. Does she give a fuck? No!
Regardless of all this, she’s absolutely gorgeous. There’s nothing wrong with cellulite, or stretch marks, or not having a perfectly flat stomach, you are beautiful and these things are normal.
I just wanted you all to see somebody who isn’t “perfect”, is still incredibly beautiful and doesn’t care about her stretch marks.
Don’t worry, be happy and healthy!
Why is she so … guh. You glorious, admirable, lovely woman, you.
Starfall
Sigyn essayed a slight smile, ducking her head. “Sometimes I dream of falling. It’s always dark, but the worst part,” she hesitated, “is the solitude.” She shivered just calling up the memory of that absolute absence. Fear closed its hand around her throat, and involuntarily she gripped Loki’s arm more tightly.
He stopped walking at her words, shocked and ill at ease with his own memories.
*Loki, this is madness…*
The frozen emptiness that had swallowed him whole.
*No, Loki…. no…*
He clenched her hand and looked at her with sympathy. “That is… truly… terrifying. I don’t… I know of no other… ordeal so vile as utter isolation… “
Sigyn stopped with him, turning to look. His face seemed to freeze, as if her words had called up some private helheim, before life returned to those glorious green eyes. “I d-didn’t me—did … ” Sympathy tangled her words, before she managed to spill them out. “Please tell me you speak as a metaphor.”
Both her hands grasped at his. She gazed up into his face. “No one should have to endure that.”
Loki was perplexed at her reaction. A flash of confusion and disbelief crossed his face. Was there truly someone in the nine realms who did not know of the tumultuous, near unforgivable events that had taken place not long ago?
He quickly put up a cracked mask of good humour and smiled weakly.
“Ah, no my dear, but tonight is not the night to talk of such things.” He gave her hand a squeeze to put her mind at ease. He looked around. “Where are your chambers? We should get you tucked away.”
She glanced around as well. “I … I’m actually not sure, from here. I must have walked farther than I realised. I don’t know where I am.” Freeing her hands, she reached out and laid a palm on the wall, frowning gently. “An outlying wing … “
A slight silver mist pooled around her fingertips, curling along the wall and out of sight. She closed her eyes, then laughed slightly. “I really have no idea how I got here.” Looking back at Loki, Sigyn shrugged. “I’m lost.”
He watched the magic spiral out from her fingers and smiled. Another layer, more to know and explore. More captivating every minute.
“Well, at this late hour, I would hate to wake any of the staff up and my chambers are not far from here.” He smiled, “I promise to be a perfect gentleman, there is a couch that I usually sleep on in any case. Will that be acceptable for this evening?”
Sigyn stared. “My lord, I … I couldn’t possibly put you out of your own bed.” She ducked her head again, trying to hide behind her hair. “I would be glad to borrow your couch, though.” With a small sigh, she explained softly, “I shouldn’t want to be alone tonight in any case.
She laid her hand back on Loki’s arm, glancing up, and said, “Truly, you usually sleep on a couch?”
He gave a short laugh and grinned from ear to ear, “Yes, I prefer it to the bed… perhaps it is strange, but, well,” he shrugged a little, “I do as I like.”
He brushed her hair back from her face so he could more readily see her violet eyes, his finger tips tenderly caressing along her cheek.
“Would you object to a little magic on my part?” he asked curiously.
Tingles danced over Sigyn’s skin where Loki’s fingers brushed. Her eyes fluttered closed briefly; she sucked in a swift breath. “No, of course not.” Another breathless laugh escaped her. “My poor skills have been of little help.”
Yeah, okay. Now where’s my moonsign poster?