Hey y'all :)
Context(skip if not interested): I just checked and I'm 128 days sober and 211 days clean. My big issue was with the getting clean. Drinking definitely used to be a problem before I discovered drugs, then it became a gateway drug. I don't want to dive into my whole drinking/abuse history but my advice to anyone based on my own experience would be that accepting yourself, being able to look at yourself in the mirror and like who you see, and learning to love yourself. (emphasis on learning) were key to my recovery and still are, so I'd never overlook that. Also, just keep trying. Oh, and if you think there might be this big thing that is causing your addiction but you are uncertain or running away from it there's a big chance there is, and you can actually use that to empower your recovery instead of having it be an excuse for drinking. And it's even fine that it used to be that before. (I used to need alcohol and drugs just to accept myself a tiny bit for example, now I'm 50 steps further and have a real existence built on sobriety and being clean)
My Problem: At the end of my drinking period I started developing bladder issues, which meant that sometimes I would get extreme urges to pee and that I would be able to hold it in untill I saw an actual toilet, only to then pee my pants in the toilet. This morning I woke up with a full bladder and my housemate got to the toilet before me, I hadn't expected this to still be such a thing so I, although nervously, made tea and did some morning things. Then the same thing happened, although I have to say it was far less intense than before. I peed my pants a little. Enough to have to change and be hurt, but definitely not like I used to. I've always related this to heavy drinking for over a decade, but for some reason I also find this a very AMAB problem. To be clear, I'm transfem MtF and this very much rubs in the 'you have a penis' thing. Now ofc, this could very well just be my shitty dysphoria boxing something that has noooothing to do with what genitals you have. I think it's because I compare it to stories of old men and bladder issues in my head.
My question is, do y'all have any tips on managing this better? Clearly it has gotten a little better after 4 months. I've actually really improved my bladder in general, I visit the toilet far less often. But this is scary and the kind of thing that I can overthink and blame myself for all day. So I figured why not ask some helpful people here :)
P.S I'm going to delete this post later because I'd rather not have it show up on my profile, if there is a way to do it without deleting the entire post I'd love to know because I'm fine with people finding it via Google just not via my profile.
Thank youuu
P.S. P.S. I'm going to try and see if I can give a little back to this community regardless of if or how many replies I get. Also, if this is the wrong sub, I apologize. I just remembered this one from the days when I would have a failed attempt to stop every 3 weeks :(

Hi guys, I (m20) feel like I've been getting dumber and dumber over the past 5 or more years. I can't concentrate properly on solving relatively simple tasks, especially calculations in school. I usually look at the task, try to understand it and get overwhelmed by the complexity of the task. I feel like my brain has rotted from the huge media consumption, especially YouTube, Instagram... I wish I could throw my phone at the wall but it's still such an important tool. I don't want to blame anyone because ultimately everyone is responsible for their actions, consumption and life but it's so addictive to scroll through YouTube shorts or Instagram reels because it's easy, interesting, entertaining etc. I can't bring myself to do concentration-intensive tasks like reading or studying. For example, when I read task descriptions in some exams I forget things before they even enter my short-term memory. It wanders around and makes me think about everything else but what I'm trying to think about at the moment. I think the essence of this text corresponds to the common problems of Generation Z. What can I do about it? My countermeasures are the healthy implementation of good habits into my life and mindfulness, but I'm not ambitious enough because I'm used to short-term gratification, not long-term, and I can't imagine where I will be in the future and where I could be if I embark on this approach because I don't even know if it's the right one.
I read Atomic Habits, High on Life and Can't hurt me but as I mentioned I forget most of what I read.

Hey Redditors. I've gone on a couple of dates and hung out with a M(30), I am F(33). He is constantly complimenting me, which I know sounds off to complain about on reddit, but I mean compliments me with anything. Possibly, would compliment my farts.
He also gets very competitive, for example in a conversation, let's say ill say cats are my favourite animal. He'll persist and insist, "Dragon are way better" "can we just agree that dragons are the best?". I told him not every conversation had to be a competition.
I've asked him to slow down on the "love bombing" if that's the term- because it's only been 2 weeks and I told him I prefer consistency to the intensity. He reckons its just "how he is". I have asked him to respect my boundaries and space, but another thing he keeps bring up- for example he made me lunch. It was really sweet (and delicious), so I said "Omg this is beautiful, thankyou so much! You killed it etc"- I genuinely meant it, and he replied with, "Have you never been with someone that's cooked for you before?"
Am I just a salty bitch? I'm 33 and been around the ringer a few times. I have one crap Ex but it's not all bad. I'm trying to be more direct with my communication, is anyone able to articulate or suggest some tips for me to reply?
TLTR: I f(33), am seeing a m(30), who matches my hyper energy yet I'm concerned it's just honeymoon rush intensity and he's very into me and I just don't float like that, im slow. I've told him but I want to get better with my communication towards him.

Could you guys Suggest songs that are loud, etc. Preferably with a strong base and intense vocal, screaming is-a-okay.
Examples could be stuff like New York City Cops by The Strokes

I honestly like workouts where I get to choose, and have a choice in what I do. I usually plan them the day before according to what was sore the last session.
Basically, I choose 1-3 big compound lifts, and do 3-4 sets. Then, I build it from there by adding some isolation and stuff. Sometimes I plan the whole thing beforehand, sometimes I go with the flow and just do what my body feels good doing. For example, deadlifting felt weak as hell today, so I did lighter BB RDLs to hit the muscle in a different way that my body felt better doing.
Here's what ended up happening today for the workout, this one was relatively unplanned:
Workout (this includes actual notes from my workout journal) •Deadlift (135x8, 225x5, 315x3) 》Stopped after 315, although my 1rm should be 420, even 315 felt weak as hell today, so I stopped in the midst of the warmup. •BB RDL (135x10, 185x8, 185x8. Next time I plan to try 200 because this felt do-able) •BB Row (135x8, 155x5, 155x3)
Superset: •BB Press: 85lbsx9, 95lbsx4, 95lbsx3 (I'm weak on this lift because I don't often do it, I usually do more dips and pull-ups for my upper body) •Chinups: 8, 4, 2½, 3
Core: •2 sets of Attempted Planche Tucks. •Decline Crunches: 45lbsx20, (use heavier weight, like 65. 65x15, 65x15)
I didn't do any cardio.
Note: I do track my lifts and reps, and I also write down my workout logs. Took 1.5 minutes of rest.
The issue is, there needs to be more cardio. I guess going on a walk on the off days would be alright, or just everyday as I usually walk around to music, my cardio isn't horrendous. Though sometimes when I sleep badly and stuff I do feel winded. I think this is more due to fatigue than being cardiovascularly done.
I need to recover better tbh, I need to sleep.
Anyway, part of me wants to be able to run at least a mile and a half in like 12 minutes because I am considering seeing about the USAF (National Guard) after community College and I wanna make sure my running is locked in, I can already do the sit-ups and push-ups in the alloted time though I could stand to improve at those as well (wish I had someone to compete with for reps). I'd probably just start with a 10 minute light jog before the workout as a requirement, but I'm afraid that'd take away from my strength, but... well, they don't care about strength.
Also, I have trouble getting enough calories lately so I don't want to burn more with intense running and make it even more of a hassle for myself. It's ironic, I gained 15-20lbs in college, we'll call it the "accidental bulk" as I ate relatively healthfully but every 2 hours, lots of protein, but made mistakes when I gained the ability to drive (which seems to have actually kinda worked for adding some muscle to my frame) and then I cut it quickly. Now I'm eating maintenance. (I'm tracking my macros now to prevent anymore things like that, but I doubt it'll happen again at least for the time being because my appetite stabilized. Also, my maintenance is very high due to the physical activity I get so no need to worry about my health that much, probably.)
Anyway, I don't really know what my goals should be: •Just get stronger and try to nourish my body well, and be a fit young man. I mean, I could do this and totally just see what happens. Hell, maybe in like 10 years my physique will look amazing, or maybe I'll just look fit.) •Try to get shredded and get a six pack. (I kinda have one anyway but I have to flex my core muscles for it to be seen due to a tiny layer of fat over it, but I also kind of don't mind due to the previous goal. I could always do that in a few years when I'm more built up and less confused.) •Bulk and build more muscle. •Try to increase my endurance in calisthenics and running to see if I should actually be in the air force.
Man, I also have so many questions and confusion on goals and the first one just seems the most simple and attainable. Also, I'd be attempting to eat maintenance during that and adjusting it to my activity. (IE: I go back to Community College and move less, so I calculate my maintenance for less calories. That, or I could just keep eating the same and bulk on less activity while still training, I just have so many ideas!)
As you can see, my head is in like 20 different places and I have no idea what to do. Having someone to train me might not be a terrible idea because then I'd have some of this managed for me instead of trying to do it myself, but I don't know if I really need one.
I don't exactly know what to do. Someone recommended me to just keep training for strength and listening to my body because it seems to be the best. But part of me wants to look more asthetic, or something else.
I do actually enjoy at home bodyweight workouts but I use a weighted backpack, not just my pure bodyweight. I really have considered doing more bodyweight stuff for upper body training due to the simplicity of it. Like: weighted/unweighted pull-ups, banded push-ups, dips, chinups, archer pull-ups, core exercises, etc.
Maybe something super simplistic: Leg Day •BB Squats •Nordic Hamstring Curls •Core exercises (I know you're supposed to progressively overload these)
Optional: •Lunges or cossack squats for single leg work. (Cossacks would be good for hip mobility)
Upper Body •Dips and Pull-ups •Core exercises
I don't know, sorry about endlessly ranting. But, anyway, I do think the first goal is good because if I really try at it, I could probably transition to one of the other goals when I gain more of an idea of what I want to do. I'm too young to really know fully what I want, anyway. Also, what about the routine?
I feel like I actually have a lot of knowledge but need more direction, which... sounds like me.

I (21 M) have recently started doing hot yoga and really like it. I like the intensity and the way it makes me feel afterwards. I bought a membership and have been to five classes so far, so I am very new. I have always been a very active person so I am in pretty good shape, I do a lot of other exercises and want to incorporate hot yoga into my weekly routine. I would love some recommendations on how to do this.
I play pickup soccer every monday and wednesday. It is pretty intense and I always have fun and get a great workout. Soccer is absolutely amazing for HIIT. Soccer is the most important part of my routine, I love it, so everything else needs to complement it. I go for runs every once in a while for additional cardio and to improve my stamina for soccer. I also lift weights in the gym along with some calisthenics (pull ups, chin ups, dips, and pushups). I occasionally do a core workout, but that can be replaced by hot yoga.
I workout 6 days a week, I like having a rest day but am willing to replace it with a light run or an easier hot yoga class. I recently started taking creatine, so my recovery time has improved greatly and I am able to workout quite a bit. For example today being monday, I went to a barre hot yoga class and then played soccer for an hour, so I am able to do multiple workouts in a day. My weekly schedule right now consists of playing Soccer on monday and wednesday, and the rest of the days I do whatever I feel like and/or have time for. What would you guys reccomend for my schedule to optimize what I put in and get out of each of the workouts I do? What days should I do what? (Soccer, hot yoga, lifting, running) Any advice is much appreciated!

I don't like how my borderline and PTSD combine to self-sabotage everything I want, I still like a girl I hurt because I still wasn't over the hurt my ex did to me and now she's with someone. . Otherwise, I'm happy she's with someone who I hope knows what she wants, unlike me. But I would simply like to have a chance with her because now that I have worked on myself I have realized that she loved me a lot and that I loved her. I know I shouldn't focus and get stuck on it, because now I have to think about myself, but I still study psychology and I feel bad for being a person like that. I got angry at two girls for not knowing what I want and although they accepted my apology, I feel like I don't deserve to study psychology. I think the word excite was mistranslated but I want to say that there have been two times (not at the same time) that I met up with these girls to see if we were in a relationship but in the end I walked away.
6 months ago I ended my 4-month relationship, which was very intense because my ex also had borderline and sometimes my post-traumatic stress made me explode and I ended it but I stalked her a lot on social media and I looked for them to return to. I feel like a monster for doing that. I only miss that ex because she mistreated me a lot, for example she applied the silent treatment to me or when I told her not to do something because that activated my post-traumatic stress, she did it and that was very intense, a lot of adrenaline for me, every time she gave me little scraps of Love, I felt addicted to it, but also, she wanted me a lot sexually and was the first person I had sex with after suffering sexual abuse. The other girls that I hurt because I didn't know what I wanted and I was waiting for them to hurt me, they treated me very well, in fact they didn't sexualize me like my ex and that made me feel strange as if they didn't love me.

Now, I’m not one of those old men yelling at clouds, as I understand they are necessary for certain content of a problematic nature, but it struck me while watching ‘Sugar’ recently, that even things like ‘scenes of self harm’ are pre-warned now. Is this a recent thing, or even just an Apple thing?
In the example of Sugar, it plainly gives away that a certain character is going to attempt suicide as their previous character arc before it signposts the possibility.
Is there any evidence that scenes like these actually trigger people into self-harm or even causing trauma? Don’t we all watch shows like this, to be engrossed by them and escape our own lives for a brief time, rather than align what we are seeing unfold before us with our own personal circumstances?
I think there was some scientific data that the suicide scene in ‘13 Reasons Why’ did correlate with an uptick in youth suicide attempts, so again, I can see certain scenarios where they can be necessary, but that scene was even altered years later, to reduce its intensity, so that surely is enough at this point?
It is an interesting recent development for me, but I find it often gets overused. I know it is film related, but I bought Total Recall last year and even that had a warning before it. I honestly couldn’t even tell what they were referring to and I find myself attuned to the subject.

I know it’s an early age to be saying this and my situation might not be as bad i’m sorry but I can’t think of a reason to keep going, all my life I’ve had no friends and no one to talk to and at the end of the day the only person I have is myself. When I was younger I was mentally abused by a friend; they kept talking about my insecurities and sometimes even hurting (such as punching me or throwing a chair at me for example) me just because she was worried I wasn’t her friend, but back then I was stupid and had no one so when the first person that entered my life, no matter how bad they were I cherished them. I always need reassurance when speaking to someone because of her, she was my only friend and if I didn’t reply she would full on ignore me for a day and then I’d go back to alone , in short I developped intense social anxiety till the point I can’t live without thinking everyone hates me and one joke can easily ruin my entire day. I weigh 260 pounds and I hate the way I look I’m so ugly I’ve had people tell me they would kill themselves if they were me, with my life situation. I can’t even talk to my parents because they are one of the reasons I am depressed today, all my life they’ve complained about eachother and put me in the middle of an argument where they kept arguing and forcing me to choose who to stay with, and they’ve said themselves that they’ve given up on me and they don’t know what to do anymore. I get told all the time that someday it’s gonna get better but it seems like everyday I just get closer to ending my life, nothing positive has happened at all. I’m failing school, even with all the help and attention from social workers I get I still fail miserably and I can’t fix it, now I have one month left and im still questioning everything that’s going on in my life. Right now I have some friends but they are as bad as the first friend when I was younger and I just can’t let go, my biggest fear is ending up alone and despite everything they’re doing I still love them. I still find it difficult to believe that I’m suicidal after all of this,
I just imagine myself ending my life when I graduate because there’s nothing out there for me, I have so much fear in socializing I don’t even have the courage to ask for help, or to get a job.

So, you said Lord Nicholas has no personality, which is true lol, but since I'm the devil's advocate, I took that as a challenge. Make yourself comfortable for a long read. Have some popcorn.
Why is this guy more of a tragic character, rather than a villain? And how does a man lose identity, and becomes a monster through desperation? I'll answer this for you below.
• Throughout Plague Tale Innocence, there are various signs that although he is personally close to Vitalis (no use of titles or formalities when speaking to each other) he is the execution, and not the mastermind behind the plans. For example, when Hugo's Macula was to be tested, he urged Vitalis on to put an end to the plague already, they are not here to play games.
• In the very same chapter, we get a little insight on what he believes and thinks about the conflict between the Inquisition and the De Runes. He doesn't understand why Beatrice De Rune resists their persuasion for information regarding the Macula, since their goals are shared -> ending the Plague. Ultimately, he blindly believes Vitalis wants to control the Plague to save them. And he does anything, ANYTHING to make that happen.
Commit genocide against peasants, and in the end, even go as far as killing Hugo.
Now, let's take a little turn to make a background check for this guy. Or at least what is hinted, and what can be assumed with intuition and theories.
• Like I mentioned before, him and Vitalis are personally close, and in the preultimate chapter of Plague Tale: Innocence, after his death, guards talk about him in the city. They are confused why Vitalis hasn't sent anyone for his search (I'll get to that one later), since he was his Protégé. This alone in itself wouldn't mean anything, but right after that a guard added "Maybe he found himself another Protégé" regarding Hugo of course.
Since this game is about innocence and children, it's almost safe to assume that Nicholas likely got taken under Vitalis' wings just as Hugo was now in the present. That would explain why they are close, and why Nicholas blindly trusts his master. Another dialogue backs this up, between the Arch Bishop and Vitalis. "Puppets like you will kneel and beg me to save them." and look who appears and kneels right there and then? Lord Nicholas. This is my theory, I can back it up but it isn't 100% surely true of course. Take it with a pinch of salt please.
• Now, time to get to why Vitalis didn't send anyone after Nicholas' disappearance... We saw nothing of the two months Hugo spent in the Bastion, but based on the Cathedral's state, it's safe to assume things didn't go that well with controlling the Macula. The plan was to get Hugo through the threshold finally, so that the Conjuration can begin. (Note to self: another essay later about that one). Although they tried to push Hugo through with hurting his mother, it didn't work. Because of this, Vitalis tasked Nicholas with taking Hugo to his sister, to end her life. This is simple, but it doesn't stop here.
In the chapter Blood Ties (where we control Hugo), we already meet an impatient Nicholas who wants to put an end to the Plague. Not only that, but let me get to one crucial sentence told by Vitalis. "Nicholas... You cannot understand." This hints at the disagreements between the two, and that Nicholas is not indulged in how this should be done. Nicholas tries to help Vitalis up, but he rejects the help too. It's quite symbolic for the one-sided trust between the two. Due to this growing mistrust, and how Vitalis didn't expect Nicholas to come back after his mission later on, to me it seems like Vitalis cut the ties and sent him exactly to his death to get rid of him.
• Vitalis' plan was never to get rid of Hugo once they pass the threshold ("I have a lot to teach the Carrier, and his friends."), and knew well, that Nicholas has no chance against Hugo and Amicia with the rats alongside them. He sent the man who trusted him the most to his death, and with that also chose his ultimate protégé - Hugo. It's also likely that Nicholas' mistrust grew because his position in the hierarchy was compromised, since it's likely Vitalis got obsessed with Hugo, and Nicholas almost realized he is played with. There is also the idea, that Vitalis sent him away to actually save him from the white rats he meant to send on the crowd anyway. Anyway, Vitalis is for another essay...
• The betrayed, the sacrificed. Who is he? There is absolutely little we know of him, except for his title and occupation. What always speaks in Plague Tale: Innocence though, is the design. I mean look at that drip- sorry.. In "A Making of Plague Tale: Innocence" the creative developers mention the importance of faces, and overall pure, intuitive impressions we get of our characters.
• There is only one character whose face we never see, and that is Nicholas. That doesn't only play as a psychological trick to make him more terrifying, but also hints at certain points. First of all, his robes are Dominican. This is historically fitting (although there were no dominican knights) since Dominicans were those entrusted by the Church to handle trials against heresy and begin inquisitions. This also hints that he is very religious and dedicated to serving the (assumed) good. I know, no way. Let's not forget about how faded out it is, or bloody. In NO way he is a good guy, but a tragic believer? Likely. Under the robes is the armour, which is hit all around. It's no news we talk about a very experienced and efficient knight who also happens to be serving Vitalis (NOT the Church! Explained in another essay, chill.). Knights start their training at 7, and only nobles are in for the job, obviously. I made the connection, that since he likely knows Vitalis from his childhood, and his training also began when he was 7 years old, and his name was Nicholas...
Side note: In medieval times, children were named after Saints to inwoke their blessing, in this case, among many things, protecting children.
It's likely that he himself, just like those he hunts, was an orphan, perhaps even a sinner, who had to be saved by none else, than Vitalis. Give it a thought, maybe he was a lost little boy like Hugo, whose innocence was stolen way too early. With how Plague Tale likes to play with irony and parallels between characters, I don't see this as unlikely.
• All in all, he is what his occupation is, and nothing human. He is the machine that serves. The cross, the judgement. We cannot see his face, because he has no identity except what Vitalis gave him. His role, his title, his mission (perhaps even name). As it can be seen, Hugo too, was dressed in robes showing the Inquisition's sign, like a mark of ownership over him.
• From the very start of the story, he was the representative of that time's barbaric cruelty, unforgiving, misplaced judgement. And as though from the children's perspective he was a monster from the very beginning, how did it go down? As I said before, he has no identity except his committment, and through that his morals, ambitions are shown. At the very start, they ambushed the De Rune estate, and we CANNOT know, if the violance was planned beforehand or it came due to Robert's resistance.
People were taken hostage for questioning, the goal was to capture Hugo, the Carrier, and Beatrice, the only one who can help them understand the plague's origins. It was bloody, but after this chapter, you can hear guards clearly say "capture children" and not just Hugo. Now, unbelivably, I don't think he wanted Amicia bad at the start. They confront each other in the English camp for the second time (where he paid a ransom for both of them), where he tries to negotiate with her to give them Hugo and stop running. Later his methods change, telling the plain truth that there is nowehere for her to go out there (These methods of convincing show a lot of personality and insight especially in the boss fight).
Later on, it's mentioned Vitalis is going hard on him but "he is used to it". Again, their shared history is hinted. The hunt for Hugo is fruitless still, and the plague is spreading day-by-day.
Next we hear from him, is in the chapter where we visit the city with Amicia. Or rather, that he is not exactly participating in the mission killing the sick. Since him and Vitalis disagree with methods of solving the Plague, and he is occupied with catching Hugo, there is a possibility this order of slaughter was carried out without his consent. Though, this is a high take and it would be totally in character to do such a task in the means of self-preservation.
Amicia's visions of him from Penance is not reliable, but at the very same time she clearly dreamed what happened and it's likely she mixed reality with hallucinations from exhaust. If, the hallucinations were true, that means Hugo did hear Amicia, but Nicholas directly diverted his attention from her and led him away.
It's hard to speculate if he did this to let nature do its work, or to actually show mercy, which is equally possible, since it was clear from the beginning that even though she killed his men, he knew she is simply running and kills as a means to survive.
Now, as I explained earlier, many things go down when Hugo resides in the Bastion, and we can only guess what that causes. I mentioned Nicholas' growing distrust, now let me introduce you to the psychological denial he experiences during the boss fight, along with his reflections pointing at the children. The man, becoming the monster. The fire (another essay since fire in Plague Tale is symbolic) causing him to destroy himself.
In the chapter Remembrance he goes to the Château d'Ombrage along Hugo, to ensure the boy passes the threshold with killing his sister, with this enabling Vitalis to pass as well. At first, Nicholas is quite calm and confident, sending Hugo to kill her "Go, and do what has to be done.". Interestingly, despite this, he still has his sword prepared, which shows he still doesn't trust Hugo. Later on, he knocks Arthur out, but doesn't kill him senselessly, despite the fiasco at the English camp. He takes Amicia to Hugo, and now threatens him to kill her, or else he kills his mother in front of him. After that, he tells him, if Hugo does as he tells him so, maybe Vitalis keeps him by his side.
This could hint that only by accomplishments such as this, and proving devotion, can one remain important in Vitalis' eyes. Also, that maybe, Nicholas had to go through something similar, "She means nothing to you now".
Doubts and frantic impatience take hold, which ultimately lead him to take matters into his own hands. He decides to kill her, himself. As he pushes Hugo away, she calls him a bastard, which he then turns back at her, to question her morality and self-righteousness. She betrayed him, that is why he gave himself up. It can be perhaps far-fetched, but this also can count as self-reflection already. Betrayal -> causing giving up, which happens later to him too.
After Arthur "takes care of him" (not exactly...) and the siblings reunite, Nicholas wakes up and this time, immediately kills Arthur. The death is not just a shock value as many believe, it also shows the already progressing monster stepping forth, and losing humanity entirely.
The boss fight has three phases. His methods at provoking the children, and self-reflect change and become way more intense with time.
In the first phase, he tries to separate them and tells Amicia that he knows it must be difficult to live in the Carrier's shadow. Also, that they are terrified. He is poking at her most vulnerable place, their biggest fear, which's "face" is ultimately him. Also, reminding Amicia of her biggest desire, that is to be acknowledged by her parents. Especially this can count as self-reflective, since as I said earlier Nicholas likely noticed Hugo is slowly replacing him in Vitalis' eyes. The wish to excell, and be acknowledged for the devotion is a deep scar this character could carry. He also reminds them of how their father died, to remind them of honour, which Nicholas obviously has a twisted sense of.
In the second phase, his first voice line shows surprise and fear, and anger in response to those feelings. He is more reckless and aggressive too. Here, again, he manipulatively reminds them how little they can do, and threatens them. This is both calculated and instinctual, since he says such things to bring the children out of their hiding places, but at the very same time also because he is slowly losing himself. There are also lines which can be reflective to his beliefs and assumptions based on himself, such as: "Your sister won't be able to save you child.... You are alone." There were already connections made between how Vitalis saved him, and if one puts it all together, this line shows how he doesn't believe in the siblings' bond, because his own bond with Vitalis broke, and Nicholas is (alike to Hugo) alone. Or there is also the line "What do you think you can do? You are nothing. [...]" I wanted to highlight this line because Plague Tale (among many other things) is about the helplessness one faces trying to protect loved ones, and/or trying to rewrite their fates. The fact that Nicholas dehumanizes them entirely, shows he knows the fact one, them or him, cannot change the course that has been set, but he is still in denial trying to fight it (a lot like Amicia in Requiem, by the way. Also, fire (this is why that needs another essay....).
In the third phase, he becomes uncharacteristically reckless and desperate, where he succumbs to the wrath and, his fate. "Come to me, come into my arms my dear children." His sanity decreases and he knows death is unavoidable. The question left is whenever he can bring them down with himself or fails. And failure, is unacceptable. He is better dead, than failed. "I will teach you the meaning of sacrifice" this line shows that likely, he accepted his last quest knowing well he is going to die probably. That he rather burns himself, bring hell, than letting go. He keeps shouting the motto of his order, because that is the only thing that he clings to. It's pathetic and forced, inhumane. "[...] We'll die together" <-> "I will boil your blood until it spurts from your eyes", "You are going to pay, [...]" by this time, he keeps switching tactics at approaching and luring them out, frantic and monstrous. His words mean nothing by this time and desperation takes hold. What line of him is the purest, rawest, and most honest, between all the threads and claims, self-convincing attempts to maintain devoted is this: "The pain... To feel oneself alive... And deliver death." This line might seem like one among the many terrible threats, but it in fact shows his deepest belief. That is, of pain and life. Sacrifice and death. That those who live, have to kill, and that is what it means to exist in this world.
• In Plague Tale Innocence and Requiem, we see Amicia's development into a murderer who follows similarly blind committments.
She ultimately becomes, what she condemned, and what caused her great misery. What, in the end, she herself becomes if Hugo doesn't lead her on the right path. A monster.
So, to sum it all up, Lord Nicholas represents the human being of that time, whose identity is what he serves, and nothing else.
It makes one selfless, righteous, but at what cost? Violence spreads from one person to another, while everyone tries to save what is precious to them. Hope this helped seeing him as more human and with more personality. Cheers. A few more points I couldn't exactly integrate are the following:
• A few things showing the underlying morality and plain intentions: at first he tried to negotiate with both Robert, Amicia, and Beatrice as well. He condones stealing entirely. He doesn't kill Arthur at first.
• In the concept art he is left handed. In Middle Ages, left handed people were considered sinful, since it was the "devil's hand". This added with the self-punishing- self-destructive-Catholic mindset, added with his devotion, signs that he is penitent, and does what he should for a greater good, a salvation, and carries the burden of "sacrifice".

my pain goes away for 2 seconds when i am mean to people i perceive hurt me.
for example when im in crying fits blaming everyone for my suicide i take jabs at anyone in my sight and is usually one of my family members. i want them to feel the suffering i feel so often. i know it’s not right and i feel intense guilt and self hatred after. i want to see a therapist but i’ve seen a lot in life and i didn’t have a good experience with most.

My hands are shaking as I write this, I have to document my story incase something happens to me in the next few days. I'm not sure where to begin but I suppose here is better than anywhere.
I've always had this weird feeling, this sensation inside of me that I was older than I actually was. By the time I was twelve, my soul felt as though it was forty. By the time I reached twenty, I felt like an old woman. I would watch people around my age acting foolish, and I always thought, "What a bunch of children." So it was no surprise to anyone that when I turned twenty-one, I left my hometown and college and decided to spend the summer alone by renting an old farmhouse in an insignificant town on the edge of an even more insignificant border.
When I told my mother, she had a veritable fit, unable to find the words. She spluttered and raged around me for days before I finally left early one morning to avoid her guilt and frustration with my choices. I was not sure why I craved solitude at such a young age, why I found solace in being alone and removed from society.
In high school, I had changed unexpectedly, cutting my long blonde hair short and dying it black, getting piercings that my mother loathed and claimed no young lady should have. You see, my mother was raised proper, as she called it. Good family, good husband, and finally a good life. She despised her perfect life being squashed by my alternative looks and feelings of the same world. She just didn't understand me or the world as it changed around her. I felt like I was just a trophy to her and my father, her perfect angel who had been tainted by my own demented thoughts.
I never told my parents where I was staying, one last rebellious mission before leaving for a few months, and it took me only a few hours to arrive at the farmhouse where I would be staying for the next few months. The land around the farm was dead or dying, old crops rose out of the dry dusty earth and had turned black and forgotten, as if this land was the example of dreams long forgotten and empty. A single dreary lane connected this desolate farmhouse to the rest of the world. On the outside, it was drab and looked as though it would fall apart. It had two stories but still seemed cramped and small, as if it were a single floor tied to the ground.
Across from the house, bordering the tall weeds that had reclaimed much of the farmland, stood a maudlin-looking faded red barn, one door propped open in a dejected manner revealing naught to me but shadows, dust, and a little mystery.
Next to the barn, staked into the ground on an old-looking cross, was a ragged scarecrow. It had drab brown clothing, but its face was oddly realistic, like it was watching me with a disapproving manner. Straw poked through its joints at odd angles like they were trying to break free from their confines. The scarecrow obviously didn't do its job as it was covered in no less than three crows.
I parked my car next to the barn and stepped out into the dusty yard before the farmhouse that I would make my home for the next few months. I checked under the front mat for the key and put it in the lock.
With a satisfying click, the door fell inward into the farmhouse. Surprisingly, the inside of the farmhouse was modern, clean, and looked quite inviting. I could smell the fresh paint on the walls, and everything was so white. The realtor had told me she would stop by tomorrow to collect the rent, and she had tried to chat my ear off on the phone about all the renovations she and her son were doing on the place.
I sighed with contentment and tossed my bags beside the door. I dug around in my bag and removed my camera, my father's old film shooter as he called it. I had taken up the hobby years ago for what I called capturing the oddity in the world.
I explored the small house a little more; the ground floor consisted of a single room and small bathroom with a shower. The bedroom was upstairs and was the only room, the stairs connected directly to the white and pink monstrosity that was the master bedroom. The pillows had laces on them and almost made me gag from the cuteness. There was even cute white lace curtains on the window with little flowers stitched onto them.
Out of the only window of the room, I could see the barn and the scarecrow. I aimed my camera at the pair and snapped a photo. From this angle, the scarecrow appeared to be staring straight at me. It stood next to the left side of the barn in a dejected manner like a chastised child.
A shudder involuntarily ran through me at the sight, but I moved on back downstairs. It was getting close to dinner time now, and I had brought some food with me.
After a few minutes, I had my dinner on the stove cooking and the crickets chirping outside the open window. As I sat down to eat next to the window, I felt at peace for one of the first times in years. The solitude of this old farm was exactly what I needed. The window supplied a nice breeze that wafted through the place, it smelled of grass and warm summer nights, made me feel at peace. The simple dish of spaghetti with tomato sauce and a glass of wine was all that I needed right here, right now in this moment.
That night I climbed into the frilly laced bed and sunk into the claustrophobic mattress. I felt like Goldilocks in the mama bear's bed as it was altogether too soft. From my perfumed bed, I had a good view out the window. I had left the porch light on, and it cast an eerie glow across the yard. The barn loomed ominously, stalwart against the light of the porch, like it was protecting the shadows from the battering ram of light. The somber scarecrow leaned against the left side of the barn.
With a small jump, I thought I saw its arm move slightly. I peered through my camera using the zoom to get a better view of the scarecrow. It was completely still in the night, and I laughed quietly to myself at my silliness. I had always enjoyed horror movies, but there was no chance I was living in one. I settled back into bed and put my camera down. Within a few minutes, I fell into sleep's warm embrace.
What felt like only a few minutes later, I sat up in bed. It was still dark out, I could hear crickets chirping through the open window, and I strained my ears for a moment.
I thought something had woken me up. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as a cold breeze wafted in through the window. I pulled the frilly blanket up around myself when I heard it. A thud sounded below me, shaking the whole world into silence. The crickets stopped chirping, and my heart felt like it had stopped beating. Someone was in the house. I hadn't locked the door or closed the kitchen window, and now someone was downstairs. A second thud sounded like a boot on the staircase. Then another and another as something was slowly moving up the stairs towards the room.
I don't know why I did it, but something came over me. I wasn't big or especially brave, but my normal cowardice in social situations changed instantly. With a dash, I tore across the room, flicking on the lights, ready to face my attacker, to defend myself against male or female. I would fight, and I would win.
But as the lights turned on, ready to strike with my foot, nothing was there. The staircase was empty, and upon further inspection, the entire house was empty. The kitchen window was open, and I shut and locked it securely before checking the door. Nothing. I sat down on the couch, my heart pounding out of my chest, as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
"I must have still been half-asleep," I said aloud to the room in a thinly veiled attempt to calm my nerves. It failed horribly, but I went with it. What else could you do in a situation like that?
After locking up the house, I went back up to that frilly four-poster bed in the bedroom and stared out the window. Nothing was in the yard except my car, the barn, and the same old sad-looking scarecrow staring across the yard.
Day 2
The next morning, I woke up to the soft light filtering through the lace curtains. Despite the strange events of the previous night, I felt strangely refreshed, as if the morning sun had chased away the shadows that lingered in my mind.
I descended the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under my weight, and headed to the kitchen. As I brewed a pot of coffee, my mind wandered back to the events of last night. Was it just a figment of my imagination, or was there really someone in the house?
Shaking off the unease, I decided to explore the farmhouse in the daylight. I wandered through the room, admiring the modern renovations that clashed with the rustic exterior. The farmhouse had a charm to it, despite its eerie surroundings.
As I made my way outside, the cool morning air greeted me, and I took a deep breath, letting the serenity of the countryside wash over me. The barn stood tall against the backdrop of the morning sky, and the scarecrow seemed to watch me as I crossed the yard.
I approached the barn, curiosity getting the better of me. Pushing open the creaky door, I stepped inside, the musty scent of hay filling my nostrils. The interior was dimly lit, the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the wooden walls.
I explored every nook and cranny of the barn, but found nothing out of the ordinary. As I turned to leave, something caught my eye. In the corner of the barn, hidden beneath a pile of old blankets, was a small wooden chest.
My heart racing with anticipation, I lifted the lid of the trunk and peered inside. What I found took my breath away. It was a collection of old photographs, yellowed with age, depicting scenes from a bygone era. They were of a man with his family, two young kids, and a beautiful young wife. The man had yellow blonde hair, almost like straw in texture, but he smiled so happily with his family.
I sifted through the photographs, my fingers trembling with excitement. Who had left these behind, and why? Each photograph seemed to tell a story, a glimpse into the past of this forgotten farmhouse.
As I sat there, lost in thought, a sudden noise jolted me back to reality. It was the sound of footsteps coming from outside the barn.
"Hello?" The dreamy voice of a woman called to me from the entrance to the barn.
I slammed the lid of the trunk shut, closing the memories up in a flurry as I spun around to be greeted by a quite pretty woman with blonde hair and a pink suit skirt combo. She had bright pink lipstick, that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face, and quite shiny and sparkly blue eye shadow on her lids. I myself only wore black eyeliner. This woman was like Barbie in her proportions, thin waist, long hair, and large tracts of land, as my father would have said.
"Oh, hello," I said simply, always awkward in normal social situations.
If she noticed anything odd about me, she breezed over it in an easy manner. Taking me by the shoulders, she led me out of the dusty barn and into the yard.
"You must be Polly. We have been waiting a while for you to come. I simply must know what you think of the renovations to the house. Aren’t they just to die for?" The lady said all in one breath, as if she didn’t need air to speak.
"Yes, they are quite nice..." I started before she cut me off, not in a rude manner but instead in one that she would have continued on even if I had just told her I was not Polly and instead I was a mass murderer looking for my next victim.
"You see, me and my son Eli—yes, Eli, you stop lurking in the shadows over there," she said, continuing on as I noticed a younger man leaning up against the barn. He wore simple clothes of jeans and a white t-shirt but had a handsome face. His hair was brown and hung slightly over his eyes.
"I hope you don’t mind if my son here continues working on some renovations while you stay here? Strictly on the outside of the house, mind you. A fresh coat of white paint would make this little beauty shine. We would have finished by now if not for the accidents," she continued, completely unabashed by my silence.
"Sorry. But you are the realtor?" I said, trying to regain my feet under me.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry, dear!" she said with an affable cackle.
"Yes, yes, I am Barbara, but all my friends call me Barb. That over there is Eli. Eli, come say hi," Barb said while her painted talons rested firmly on my shoulder.
Eli stomped over, keeping his eyes low, in a sort of moody way that actually intrigued me, sort of.
When he glanced up at me, I noticed he drank in me from head to toe, and for the first time, I realized what I was wearing. An old rock t-shirt of one of my favorite bands and, of all things, my black pajama bottoms with cartoon bats on them that said "happy halloween."
I felt my face blush crimson as he made eye contact with me. He had very mysterious eyes of blue that seemed to cut right through my soul.
"Nice shirt," he said while gesturing to me. His voice was quiet and uncertain, as if he didn’t get much practice with the art. Knowing his mother, it seemed highly accurate.
"Thanks. Do you like them?" I asked.
"Oh, he likes all sorts of things, don’t you, Eli? Honestly, you two can gab on forever. But miss, I believe we have a small matter of payment," Barb said, drawing the conversation back to herself.
"Of course. Let me go get it," I said as I went back into the house and retrieved the envelope with the rent money in it.
Barb grabbed the envelope in her bright pink talons and snapped a piece of bubblegum between her teeth. With quick fingers, she leafed through the cash, counting it. As she counted, her normal bubbly personality seemed to disappear, giving way to what I gleaned was her true thoughts and feelings before the facade slipped on once again.
"Mmkay, perfect honey, this is the right amount. Now you have my number, so you call if you need anything. Like I said earlier, Eli will stop by from time to time to work on painting the house. I promise you he won’t be an imposition, just pay him no mind," Barb said in a sweet voice as she popped her gum in between each word.
"Eli, come on, please, I have an appointment in town," Barb said to her son, and they both climbed into a garish pink convertible with jewels hanging from the mirror wrapped in a gold chain.
Barb waved one last time as she sped off out of the driveway, covering me in dust as she spun the wheel around.
With their departure, I went inside and retrieved my camera. I spent a few minutes shooting a few pictures I thought were worthy. I re-entered the barn and pulled the old trunk out into the sunshine. Inside was only a handful of photos, some old clothes, and what looked like some old heirlooms. A beautifully old candlestick and a few leather-bound books lay at the bottom, covered by an old tablecloth. The tablecloth was a nice white with intricate swirling patterns inlaid around the edges.
Why would these things be packed away in here? They were so beautiful. I decided to bring the stuff inside for further inspection. As I lifted the trunk, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move in the tall grass at the edge of the property. I stared for a minute, but nothing moved again. I must be getting jumpy being alone like this. After last night and then this, I was just imagining things.
I brought the items inside and spread them out. I put the tablecloth on the table, and it hung low to the ground. I placed the candlestick by the window and took out the photos again, spreading them out.
The photos told me a story of a loving family that obviously lived in the farmhouse before me. They had a photo next to the barn, with a brand new looking scarecrow in the back. The man even had his arm around it; it looked so much cleaner and proper in this photo. I stared outside at the sad-looking scarecrow.
I took my camera and the photo and went outside to stand next to the scarecrow. His post hung kind of crooked in the earth like it was weighed down by the scarecrow.
I snapped a photo of the scarecrow as it was, then examined the original photo. I began resettling the post in the ground, but it kept sagging. I decided to pull him out of the ground and move him while I added more dirt to his hole. With some effort, I reseated him into his original hole. He already looked better, but I straightened his clothes and pulled out the last bits of straw that stuck out of his clothes. When I was finished, I looked back at him and took a photo, smiling while I did so at my work.
I then spent some time sweeping the front porch and banging the dust out of the cushions before I curled up on a wicker chair with plump cushions for a few hours reading a book I had brought with me.
I felt quite content at this place. The sounds of the crickets began again, putting me at ease as the sun began to descend. I had spent the entire day just relaxing, and it was perfect. I sat sprawled out in the chair, too lazy to go and make dinner or even move. My bladder was full, but I waited until the last moment before dashing inside and relieving myself.
That's when I noticed it, out in the yard. It seemed as if the scarecrow had moved closer. Once shrouded by the barn slightly, it now had moved a few steps into the light from the porch. My heart dropped at the sight. Not again, I must be asleep on the porch in the chair. I pinched myself, trying to wake up, but all I received was a sore arm.
I closed my eyes, then rubbed them, hoping to dispel whatever plagued my mind, but when I opened my eyes, I noticed the scarecrow was even closer. Halfway across the yard now, it sat menacingly, hanging crooked in the dirt. The scarecrow seemed to be staring at me with an intense gaze. The slits in its face were open now, and in the porch light, I swear I could see human eyes underneath the mask.
I moved towards the front door, locking it in a swift motion. I was shaking now, and it took me a minute to relax. I never took my eyes off the scarecrow for fear of it moving again.
My cellphone was upstairs, so I couldn't flee without the scarecrow moving again. I breathed out slightly and unlocked the door, letting it swing in with a creak. The night outside was silent, as if everything was holding its breath. The usual crickets that plagued me with their song day and night had fallen quiet. I stepped out onto the porch; I needed to go confront this demonic entity. Something about this still made me think this was a prank.
"Eli, is that you?" I called out to the scarecrow.
No response, of course. I steeled myself and put one foot off the porch, never taking my eyes off the scarecrow before me. Something seemed to be dripping from its head as I approached, a dark slime that seemed to be melting from its joints as it stood there silently, except for the constant drip of the liquid on the dry dirt before me.
I walked around the scarecrow, determined to figure out what was going on. As I circled it, my vision darkened for a moment as I faced towards the light of the house. I jumped as the scarecrow's head turned to face me as I looked away. The black liquid drained faster from the being, forming a shallow pool at its feet.
I'm not proud of what I did next, but I fled, taking my eyes off the scarecrow. I made a mad dash for the farmhouse. Behind me, I could hear the pounding of feet. I screamed as loud as my lungs would let me. My voice rang through the silence as I grabbed the door handle and wrenched open the door as I felt a strong grip fall on my shoulder.
I turned to defend myself, but nothing was there. The scarecrow was gone, the wooden cross had vanished, as had the pool of dark liquid in the dirt. The world sprung back to life; the crickets began chirping loudly, and my heart restarted. I slammed the door, and the air from my force scattered the photographs on the table. I ran upstairs, leaving the lights on in the house, and dove onto the bed, wrapping myself in the frilly blanket like a set of frilly armor.
I snatched my camera from the bedside table and held it close, determined to document the rest of the night. I held it in shaking hands as the noise downstairs began—the sound of boots crossing the floor to the stairs and the careful but heavy steps of ascension as they climbed closer and closer to me.
This time, I didn't lunge forward as the light was already on. I glanced out the window, but the scarecrow was still gone. I focused my camera on the stairs and waited as the steps came closer and closer. A shape began to form as the head of whatever was coming up the stairs crested the floor. Then a plain brown mask with slits where the eyes would be. It froze for a moment, then slowly turned its head towards me. Inside the slits were human eyes that seemed to be leaking dark red blood.
In the light, I could see it now. I snapped a photo of the beast, the flash setting off a reaction in the beast. The scarecrow moved so fast up the stairs it was a blur. My scream echoed throughout the house as it lunged at me. Filthy hands pinned me down, and the deep crimson liquid began pouring out of every joint of the scarecrow. It began covering my face, my eyes, and getting into my open mouth. I spluttered and kicked at the beast, but my blows had no purchase, as if the scarecrow on top of me had no substance to itself.
I coughed and spluttered on the liquid as it began to fill my mouth faster and faster. I tried not to swallow any, but it tried to find purchase as I was held down.
"Polly?" A nervous voice called from below.
Suddenly, as if the angels had called, the pressure dissipated, and I crashed to the floor in a heap, trying to spit the blood out, but nothing came—it was gone. Footsteps pounded up the stairs again, and I flew back in fear, closing my eyes.
"Oh my god. Polly, are you okay?" A voice said, and gentle hands grabbed my arm.
My eyes shot open at the human touch, and I grabbed Eli into a tight hug, where I promptly began sobbing in fear, my whole body shaking as Eli awkwardly hugged me.
"Don't worry, it's going to be okay," Eli said patiently to me as he hugged me back gently and began stroking my back.
I shivered in a choking sob and fell into his arms, desperately wanting to believe him, and for some reason, I did.

The filling on my bottom left molar has been just fine. I can bite down hard, chew crunchy or hard things and powdery chalky foods just fine, no hot or cold sensitivity either. Its been great. But my right molar's filling has been nothing but trouble. At first it hurt to bite down at all on it, let alone eat food with it, so I got my bite adjusted slightly weeks later and its helped a little bit. Getting my bite adjusted was about 3-4 weeks ago as of typing this. Theres still some slight pain when biting down without food but usually no pain when chewing except for if its a chalky/powdery food that can "fill the valleys/crevices of the actual tooth" for a lack of better words. Hard and Crunchy foods are just fine but for example if I were to chew one of those chalky chewable TUMs with my right molar I get intense sharp pain when that chalky powder gets in my tooth and I bite down. No hot or cold sensitivity on right molar either. I don't think I need my bite adjusted again but im not sure? my mouth feels totally natural and normal when biting down without food or just resting. It doesn't feel like there's any high points or anything after getting my bite adjusted the first time. Could this somehow be a nerve thing? or possibly some other kind of issue? If anyone knows of any possibilities as to what this could be im totally all ears. Its been pecking at my brain and making my anxiety disorder a little bonkers recently. Thanks in advance to anyone able to respond!!!

I see so many overweight people claiming that life isn't worth living if you can't enjoy food. Gabriel Iglesias is a perfect example. So they're ok with being overweight as long as they can enjoy food.
I think this is a ridiculous way of thinking.
First off.........why can't you enjoy food while being physically active? You know most human beings eat every day right? So what's stopping you from enjoying a nice lemon, garlic trout cooked to perfection right after a 45 minute workout?
Everyone who works out will tell you that food tastes 4 times better when you eat it right after an intense workout....when your body is aching for some food. Not only will it taste better, but you'll end up eating bigger portions of it because your body now needs more nutrition and calories after that intense workout.
Also notice that most famous cooks are thin and in great shape. And they LOVE food!
Overweight people who don't workout will never enjoy food the same way as bodybuilders do. Because their body will never create that deep visceral hunger that enables you to fully appreciate a meal.
Most of these people who spout this nonsense are probably just addicted to sugar. It's not the food you're after. You're addicted to a substance. That's it.

Sharing a couple of excerpts from this interesting (academic journal) article.
https://neamacares.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Objectification-Theory.pdf
“This article offers objectification theory as a framework for understanding the experiential consequences of being female in a culture that sexually objectifies the female body. Objectification theory posits that girls and women are typically acculturated to internalize an observer's perspective as a primary view of their physical selves. This perspective on self can lead to habitual body monitoring, which, in turn, can increase women's opportunities for shame and anxiety, reduce opportunities for peak motivational states, and diminish awareness of internal bodily states. Accumulations of such experiences may help account for an array of mental health risks that disproportionately affect women: unipolar depression, sexual dysfunction, and eating disorders.”
And from the conclusion:
“There are multiple ways that women of all walks of life are able to resist and subvert the culture's practices of objectification in their own lives. Changes in bodily presentation, for instance, appear to alter the extent to which women are open for evaluative attention. Many women adopt conscious strategies for stepping out of the "objectification limelight," ranging from wearing comfortable shoes and loose-fitting clothing, to not removing "unwanted" body hair nor wearing cosmetics. These seemingly trivial practices of self presentation ought to be taken seriously by researchers. They may in fact function as efforts to resist sexual objectification, and thereby enhance women's psychological well-being within a culture that so vehemently objectifies the female body.“
Now, going a bit deeper into objectification theory for anyone interested:
A critical repercussion of being viewed by others in sexually objectifying ways is that, over time, individuals may be coaxed to internalize an observer's perspective on self, an effect termed self-objectification. Girls and women may to some degree come to view themselves as objects or "sights" to be appreciated by others. This is a peculiar perspective on self, one that can lead to a form of self-consciousness characterized by habitual monitoring of the body's outward appearance.
Although sexual objectification is but one form of gender oppression, it is one that factors into — and perhaps enables — a host of other oppressions women face, ranging from employment discrimination and sexual violence to the trivialization of women's work and accomplishments. Like gender oppression more generally, sexual objectification occurs with both "endless variety and monotonous similarity." The common thread running through all forms of sexual objectification is the experience of being treated as a body (or collection of body parts) valued predominantly for its use to (or consumption by) others.
The culture of objectification can:

1. Increase women's opportunities for shame and anxiety.

The habit of self-conscious body monitoring can profoundly disrupt a woman's flow of consciousness. As de Beauvoir wrote, when a girl becomes a woman she is "doubled; instead of coinciding exactly with herself, she ... [also] exist[s] outside." That is, significant portions of women's conscious attention can often be usurped by concerns related to real or imagined, present or anticipated, surveyors of their physical appearance.
Shame generates an intense desire to hide, to escape the painful gaze of others, or to disappear, alongside feelings of worthlessness and powerlessness. Women's ongoing efforts to change body and appearance through diet, exercise, fashion, beauty products, and, perhaps most dangerously, surgery and eating disorders, reveal what may be a perpetual body-based shame.
The extent to which body "correction" is motivated by shame elevates the task of meeting societal standards of beauty to a moral obligation. Thus, women who fail to live up to this obligation have been deemed uncivilized and immoral. The habitual body monitoring encouraged by a culture that sexually objectifies the female body can lead women to experience shame that is recurrent, difficult to alleviate, and constructed as a matter of morality.
Empirical studies document that women experience more anxiety about their appearance than do men. This appearance anxiety may have roots in negative early life social experiences, including histories of receiving negative appearance-related comments. Appearance is also fused with concerns about safety. Women's beauty has been likened to power. For instance, those who suggest that a female victim of sexual assault "asked for it" often refer to her physical appearance. Empirical studies demonstrate that more attractive rape victims are assigned greater blame for their own rape.
In short, a culture that objectifies the female body presents women with a continuous stream of anxiety-provoking experiences, requiring them to maintain an almost chronic vigilance both to their physical appearance and to their physical safety.

1. Reduce opportunities for peak motivational states.

Being fully absorbed in challenging mental or physical activity can be immensely rewarding and enjoyable. This state of "flow" occurs "when a person's body or mind is stretched to its limits in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile." Flow is a prime source of optimal experience, those rare moments during which we feel we are truly living, uncontrolled by others, creative and joyful.
Being female in a culture that objectifies the female body can prevent or derail peak motivational states. First, a woman's activities are interrupted when actual others call attention to the appearance or functions of her body. As early as elementary school observational research shows that girls' activities and thoughts are more frequently disrupted by boys than vice versa. Increasingly, these interruptions become infused with more direct overtones of heterosexuality, often drawing attention to a girl's appearance, weight, or breast development.
A person must necessarily lose self-consciousness in order to achieve flow. Just as intrinsic motivation is reduced when individuals are made self-aware, either by the presence of a mirror or a video camera, women's internalization of an observer's perspective on their bodies, creates a form of self-consciousness. This is the second way that women's peak motivational states are thwarted or limited.
We know from empirical work on nonverbal behavior that girls and women, relative to boys and men, restrict their bodily comportment and use of personal space. Two ways that this physical constriction can be linked to the practices of objectification. First, because movement itself draws attention to the body, it can increase a woman's potential for objectification. Second, and more critically, maintaining an observer's perspective on physical self forces women to simultaneously experience their bodies as "objects" as well as capacities.
By limiting women's chances to initiate and maintain peak motivational states, the habitual body monitoring encouraged by a culture that objectifies the female body may reduce women's quality of life.

1. Diminish awareness of internal bodily states.

Feminist poets and essayists have described women as alienated and distant from their own bodies and bodily sensations. These ideas fit well within an objectification framework, which highlights the observer's perspective that women often adopt toward their own bodies.
Multiple studies suggest that women are less accurate than men at detecting internal physiological sensations such as heartbeat, stomach contractions, and blood-glucose levels. Perhaps by consequence, women appear to make less use of these bodily cues than men in determining how they feel.
How might women's relative inattention to physiological cues come about? One possibility is suggested by research on dieting and restrained eating. Dieting and restrained eating require active suppression of hunger cues. Some have argued that the habits of restrained eaters may lead to a generalized insensitivity to internal bodily cues.
A second possibility focuses on the self-conscious body monitoring that occupies women in a culture that objectifies the female body. Because women are vigilantly aware of their outer bodily appearance, they may be left with fewer perceptual resources available for attending to inner body experience.
In sum, by internalizing an observer's perspective as a primary view of physical self, women may lose access to their own inner physical experiences.

1. Mental health risks that disproportionately affect women: unipolar depression, sexual dysfunction, and eating disorders.

Depressive episodes are characterized by prolonged depressed moods, loss of pleasure in most activities, or both. Experiences of depression are common in both women and men. Even so, women are about twice as likely as men to become depressed.
Loss of self(sometimes called silencing of self) results when, in efforts to smooth and protect valued relationships, women develop habits of censoring their own expression and restricting their own initiatives. Over time, habitual self-censorship can lead to a duplicity of experience in which outer compliance is paired with inner confusion and frustration, often with ensuing depression.
Research has found that girls and boys worry about different issues, and that the issues that most occupy girls — namely, personal appearance, personal safety, and interpersonal relationships — are domains in which exerting control and problem solving are difficult, and thus worries and rumination persist.
Having a female body, then, gives girls and women plenty to worry about and little to control. To the extent that a woman's body generates feelings of helplessness, it can also induce depression. Because women's prospects in relationships and in work often depend on others' evaluations of their appearance, women have less direct control over many of their own positive experiences. As such, women may have "lean schedules of response-contingent positive reinforcement."
Sexual objectification is also part and parcel of the sexual victimization and harassment that women experience at much higher rates than men. Several theorists have recently argued that women's experiences of victimization may account for up to one third of the gender difference in depression. *** Women report more sexual dissatisfaction and dysfunction in heterosexual relations than do men. Moreover, the incidence of women who have problems having orgasm is so high that this problem is almost normative. Yet research has shown that women and men are equally "sexual" in terms of their capacity for arousal and orgasm. So purely physiological explanations for this difference are unsatisfactory.
The most common and compelling theories focus on cultural double standards and the enactment of gender-role stereotypes in the sexual script that can limit the sexual experiences and expressions of both women and men. For example, heterosexual relations tend to focus on men's experience, and be far more permissive of men's active, even aggressive sexuality.
Objectification theory focuses not simply on women's enactment of feminine roles, but rather on their self-conscious body monitoring, body-based shame and anxiety, and relative inattention to internal bodily states.
First, chronic attentiveness to one's own visual image may consume mental energy that might otherwise be spent on more satisfying and rewarding activity. Sex researchers Masters and Johnson refer to the self-conscious body monitoring that occupies many women during sex as "spectatoring," and argue that this division of attention greatly hinders women's sexual satisfaction.
A recent meta-analysis of gender differences in sexuality confirms that women experience more shame/guilt and anxiety/fear about sex than do men. With these negative emotions coloring many women's experiences of sex, possibilities for enjoyment may be greatly reduced.
Third, sex researchers contend that orgasm often requires attention and responsiveness to internal bodily signals of arousal. Women's habitual attentiveness to external bodily appearance may lead to a generalized insensitivity to internal bodily cues. So, interoceptive insensitivity may be yet another obstacle to women's sexual pleasure.
Clearly the direct experience of sexual abuse, assault, or harassment also impacts women's enjoyment of sex. Research shows that for victims of such cruel and dehumanizing forms of objectification, sexual dysfunction and reductions in sexual enjoyment are common. *** Eating disorders are passive, pathological strategies, reflecting girls' and women's lack of power to more directly control the objectification of their bodies. Moreover, studies show that victims of actual sexual assault and abuse often show severe body-image disturbances and suffer from eating disorders at higher rates than others. This lends further sobering support to the idea that girls' and women's troubled attitudes toward eating can be intimately linked to the objectification of their bodies.
~~~~ So, that is my choppy kind of paraphrased summary of the article. 🤓

My ex and I broke up in November. He is finally coming over this weekend to pick up his things and I’m terrified for it. He has been incredibly mean and hurtful over the past few months and I experience intense anxiety whenever he messages me. But I also feel like I’m clinging onto some hope for this relationship because we broke up with him cheating on me and getting into a new relationship immediately after. It’s been hard for me and I haven’t gotten into a new relationship yet. I have grown in my professional life, but he doesn’t see that. For example, in the past 6 months, I have gotten fully licensed, have gotten a huge raise, have started to explore more areas of growth that I wanted to do (like teaching and being a trainer), I have built a lot of professional connections, I have applied for a grant that will pay off my $100,000 in student loans, I am starting to look into buying my own home instead of renting a house from my parents… I am doing the things I never thought I could do..
Even though I have all this growth in my professional life, I still feel like that’s not visible from the outside, and it feels like I’m going to come in looking weak and I don’t want him to have that satisfaction.
What can I do to improve my self esteem and make it seem or appear that things are going well for me?
Any advice is greatly appreciated!

Safe people are humble.
We can never feel safe in a relationship with someone who does not value our personhood, our hearts and minds, and what we contribute to the world. [Safe people] both have a positive sense of their self-worth and also value what others have to bring to a relationship or project.
Safe people are those whom you know you can disagree with without fear of their response.
They are more interested in hearing what you actually think and how you truly feel than hearing an echo of their perspective.
Safe people have the ability to balance objectivity with an appreciation of the emotions of others.
They are able to empathize deeply with the pain and concerns of those they do life with and consider how their actions may impact others. At the same time, they do not allow their emotions or feelings to dictate their actions. Even during times of intense emotion, they know how to access their intellect and rationality.
Safe people understand that life has its ebbs and flows, and can empathize with a change in your life situation without undue anger or resentment.
For example, if you go through a period of withdrawal as a result of an intense season of grief, safe people are able to place your possible emotional distance in context and be there for you even when you don’t have the strength to be there for them.
Safe people aren’t impulsive.
They recognize that none of us are perfect and that if we are to have long-term positive relationships, we will have (healthy) conflict. They are willing and able to work through (healthy) conflict and are able to do so because they do not allow their emotions to distract them from their ultimate values and goals, such as sustaining healthy relationships.
Safe people choose their close relationships carefully.
If we want to be a safe person, we must also inhabit these traits ourselves.
-*Eric Brown, excerpted and adapted from How to Choose Safe People

Okay so my OC, Akari Takami, has a telekensis like quirk. Whatever object she chooses to telekenetically manipulate she can feel as if it is for example, an extra limb.
For example, in the future I'm planning on her manipulating fire. When she does so she can literally feel the sensation of it burning upon her even though it isn't.
Here's an extract of her using her quirk on one of Hawks/Keigos feathers. This is during the very early days (the day after her discovery of it) of her quirk training:
Akari pulled her hair into a low ponytail as Ichika mapped out the first exercise. It was simple, Keigo would make one of his feathers float, she would try and manipulate it to her will for as long as she could.
She focused on the feather and, after a few seconds she began to feel the intense softness. She focused on the connection. From what she had gathered the deeper she could get it, the more she could manoeuvre it and the longer she could keep it up for, so she aimed to deepen it.
Everything else became a muffle but the feather, one second the outside world was nothing but a haze and the next it was as if it had never existed at all. She felt disconnected from everyone and everything besides the feather.
The shock and discomfort she felt about feeling way enough for her to pull away. When she fully came back to her senses it felt like whiplash, however, the discomfort that gave her came secondary to Ichikas’ disapproving gaze.
“Again.” She ordered.
Akari hesitated and then upon her command the world slowly drowned out until it was just her and the feather.
She moved it up, she moved it down, she moved it around.
She could vaguely sense the satisfaction she felt however she could not fully grasp it. Coming back and disconnecting from the feather took longer this time around.
‘That's just something I need to work on.’ She thought.
“Again.” Ichika ordered and she did just that.

Okay so my OC, Akari Takami, has a telekensis like quirk. Whatever object she chooses to telekenetically manipulate she can feel as if it is for example, an extra limb.
For example, in the future I'm planning on her manipulating fire. When she does so she can literally feel the sensation of it burning upon her even though it isn't.
Here's an extract of her using her quirk on one of Hawks/Keigos feathers. This is during the very early days (the day after her discovery of it) of her quirk training:
Akari pulled her hair into a low ponytail as Ichika mapped out the first exercise. It was simple, Keigo would make one of his feathers float, she would try and manipulate it to her will for as long as she could.
She focused on the feather and, after a few seconds she began to feel the intense softness. She focused on the connection. From what she had gathered the deeper she could get it, the more she could manoeuvre it and the longer she could keep it up for, so she aimed to deepen it.
Everything else became a muffle but the feather, one second the outside world was nothing but a haze and the next it was as if it had never existed at all. She felt disconnected from everyone and everything besides the feather.
The shock and discomfort she felt about feeling way enough for her to pull away. When she fully came back to her senses it felt like whiplash, however, the discomfort that gave her came secondary to Ichikas’ disapproving gaze.
“Again.” She ordered.
Akari hesitated and then upon her command the world slowly drowned out until it was just her and the feather.
She moved it up, she moved it down, she moved it around.
She could vaguely sense the satisfaction she felt however she could not fully grasp it. Coming back and disconnecting from the feather took longer this time around.
‘That's just something I need to work on.’ She thought.
“Again.” Ichika ordered and she did just that.