childhood survival

To all the survivors out there..

Shoutout to the woman who are full of self love, who know their value, and who refuse to entertain people who don’t acknowledge their light. Shoutout to the woman who aren’t full of self love but who are on a journey to recovery and those who aren’t on a journey, may you find peace in 2017. Shoutout to the woman who recognise when to let go, who aren’t bitter and those who hold peace in their hearts. Shoutout to the women who are still angry, who aren’t over things and who still hold pain or resentment in their hearts, may you find peace soon. Shoutout to the queens who are focusing on bettering themselves so when they cross paths with a King or a Queen, they are ready to love and exchange reciprocated energy. Shoutout to queens who society deem as unworthy, ghetto or lost. You’re none of the above. FUCK them. Stay true to yourself - you are royal. Shoutout to the women who support each other and don’t tear other women down. Shoutout to the women who fight for the rights of other woman. Shoutout to the women who are patient, kind, nurturing, compassionate and empowering. Shoutout to women who aren’t familiar with these traits due to circumstances beyond their control. You are still lovable and deserving. Shoutout to the women with mental illnesses - we may never understand your daily battle but we salute you for waking up and facing another day. Shoutout to the women who conquered abusive relationships and R.I.P to those who lost their lives. Shoutout to the women who hold their families together, with or without recognition. Shoutout to the children stuck in women’s bodies who were forced to become women too soon - to those who had to become mothers to their siblings, to those who lost their innocence by force and those who never had a childhood, you survived and you will continue to strive! Shoutout to the single mothers and the necessary sacrifices you had to make in order for you to provide a better life for your children. Shoutout to the stay at home mums who have put their careers on hold to raise a family. How you did it all - we will never comprehend. But thank you. Shoutout to the grandmothers who had to become mothers to their children’s children. Shoutout to the women who had to make the most difficult decision to let go of their children. Shoutout to the women who had to bury their children - words fail me, just stay strong. Shoutout to the women who had to battle cancer. Fucking Fuck cancer. Shoutout to the entrepreneurs, the business women, the pioneers and all the professional women, you have pushed the boundaries, your struggle was not in vain. And finally, shoutout the women who are still on their journey to fulfilment.

- Meggan Roxanne

Mothers’ Weekend

Hello there! Long time, no see (my bad I know) but, here: an Alicia Zimmermann-centric piece as she goes to Parents’ Weekend during Jack’s freshmen year. [focus on Alicia, Jack, and Shitty] 6k


Somewhere, deep in her heart, Alicia Zimmermann knows she is a bad mother.

It started out as a worry, as maybe it does for all new mothers, that she will be a bad mother. That she won’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler that one day she will accidentally drop him or forget to feed him or feed him something he is actually allergic to or maybe she’ll scar him emotionally somehow and she worried but she survived his childhood okay. And then, after he was five or six, she stopped worrying about it. She thought she was doing pretty good. Jack had hockey and loved hockey and, sure, they didn’t have deep emotional talks but she didn’t exactly have any basis of comparison. Television families told her she was doing okay. No teenage boy wanted to have deep talks with his mother. And, look, if Jack didn’t talk to her all that much as he turned 12 and then 13, at least he was still talking to his father. Mostly still about hockey but she… she thought that had counted. Hockey was like French, to her. Another language she could understand but couldn’t quite speak. But Bob could. He was on top of it. Jack was taken care of.

She loved Jack. That was never the problem. The problem was that her love wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. It didn’t alert her to any of the facts and maybe it even blinded her– She loved her son and her son loved hockey and so she loved hockey too. She loved her son and then her son seemed to love a boy named Kent and they never talked about it but she let Kent come over all the time and she figured they would discuss it at some point. She just… assumed everything was okay. Even after he was diagnosed with the anxiety disorder and given pills. It was always… well, that was a little problem but it’s handled and under control and everything is okay now.

See. Bad mother.

A good mother would have known somehow.

A good mother would have pushed and prodded or sensed it without even having to be told.

A good mother would have paid attention to how hard Jack was on himself. A good mother would have made sure her son had interests outside of hockey. A good mother would have known that Jack’s long silences after losses weren’t normal. A good mother would have preached balance and fostered friendships with different types of people and stopped the fucking hockey.

She didn’t though. Stop the hockey. No, not Alicia Zimmermann. She encouraged it. She went to the games and cheered the loudest and she even loved it a little bit because she thought it brought him joy, like his father. She bought into the vision: Jack playing hockey like Bob, the Zimmermann legacy continued throughout the ages…

God, she even used to tease Jack about how it took his father three years to win a Cup and she was sure Jack could manage it faster than his old man.

A good mother wouldn’t have done that. So, see, she’s always been a bad mother. Even now, now that she’s almost lost him, now that she’s promised to do better, now that she’s finally read all the books and online articles about anxiety and pressure and the danger of sports and hockey culture… now she’s still just as bad. Just for different reasons.

Now she is a bad mother because it’s Saturday afternoon and he’s been at Samwell for almost three months and she does not feel like mothers are supposed to feel in this moment.

She glances around. At the sea of other mothers and fathers crammed onto Samwell’s campus for Parents’ Weekend. They are not nervous. They are excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. Overjoyed to see the teenager they had left just a couple months ago again. To her right is a father almost (but not quite) breaking into a run to give his son a hug. To her left, a mother has burst into tears. Happy tears.

And then there’s her. She’s not excited to see Jack. Well, no. No, it’s not that she’s not excited. She is. She is. (She is. She repeats it once more just to remind herself). She is just…

She is nervous too. More nervous than she is excited.

Keep reading

3
Cause you are my best friend 
And you are where my heart is 
And I know at the day’s end 
I get to come home to you

Ever noticed how fucked up this society is ?
I mean there are people starving because they feel ugly, because they think they deserve it.
There are people purging because they get sick of the amount they ate no matter how much it was because society tells them they’re ugly.
There are people binging because they want to numb their emotions or literally want to eat up their emotions because they can’t handle it.
There are people struggling with bad childhood memories or trauma.
There are people out there who think they don’t deserve to live anymore, who went through a lot of shit and fight a constant battle with themselves everyday.
There are people out there who try to fill up their emptiness with drugs, cigarettes and alcohol.
There are homeless people everywhere on the streets begging people to give them money.
There are people that are in an abusive relationship but don’t have the strength to end it.
There are people breaking down almost every day because of our education system or their job.
How long do you think it’ll take till our society is completely fucked up ?
But let me tell you this, we’re gonna make it together!
We’re gonna survive and create a better world for the next generation!
A society where nobody bullies anybody because of how they look like, who they love, what they like nor what they think or say.
Please be kind to each other and don’t give up.

SVTFOE FANDOM: Marco spent 16 years chasing down Hekapoo to earn those scissors. As a 30 years old man, the safe kid was forced to leave his childhood behind, learning to survive in a cruel, different world. The trauma of coming back to Earth’s timeline, which immediately reverted him back to his 14 years old-self, definitely scarred him for life. It will take days, weeks, maybe months or years for him to adjust to his old life, slowly starting to remember his family, his friends, even though deep down he will always feel like an outcast, as the 30 years old man trapped forever in the body of a teenager he is.

MARCO:

hollywoodreporter.com
Guillermo Del Toro on Confronting Childhood Demons and Surviving a Real-Life Horror Story
The Mexican filmmaker opens up about how his attempts to put "lucid nightmares" from his youth (and his father's kidnapping) behind him gave way to awards season frontrunner 'The Shape of Water.'

The Mexican filmmaker opens up about how his attempts to put “lucid nightmares” from his youth (and his father’s kidnapping) behind him gave way to awards season frontrunner ‘The Shape of Water.’

Rincewind stared at the glass sphere that was the current above of Hex.
“Hex, is the world ready for the William Shakespeare of whom we spoke?”
“It is.”
“And he exists?”
“No. Two of his grandparents did not meet. His mother was never born.”
“In his hollow voice, Hex recounted the sad history, in detail. The wizards took notes.
“Right,” said Ridcully, rubbing his hands together when Hex finished. “This at least is a simple problem. We shall need a length of string, a leather ball of some kind, and a large bunch of flowers…”

Later, Rincewind stared at the glass sphere that was the current abode of Hex.
“Hex, now is this wold ready for the William Shakespeare of whom we spoke?”
“It is.”
“And he exists?”
“Violet Shakespeare exists. She married Josiah Slink at the age of sixteen. No plays have been written, but there have been eight children of which five have survived. Her time is fully occupied.”
The wizards exchanged glances.
“Perhaps if we offered to babysit?” said Rincewind.
“Too many problems,” said Ridcully firmly. “Still it’s a change to have an easy one for once. We will need the probable date of conception, a stepladder and a gallon of black paint.” 

Rincewind stared at the glass sphere that was the current abode of Hex.
“Hex, is this world ready for the William Shakespeare of whom we spoke?”
“It is.”
“And he exists?”
“He was born, but died at the age of 18 months. Details follow…”
The wizards listened. Ridcully looked thoughtful for a moment.
“This will require some strong disinfectant,” he said. “And a lot of carbolic soap.”

Rincewind stared at the glass sphere that was the current abode of Hex.
“Hex, is this world ready for the William Shakespeare of whom we spoke?”
“It is.”
“And he exists?”
“No. He was born, successfully survived several childhood illnesses, but was shot dead one night while poaching game at the age of thirteen. Details follow…”
“Another easy one,” said Ridcully, standing up. “We shall need… let me see… some drab clothing, a dark lantern and a very large cosh.”

Rincewind stared at the glass sphere that was the current abode of Hex.
“Hex, is this world ready for the William Shakespeare of whom we spoke? Please?”
“It is.”
“And he exists?”
“Yes.”
The wizards tried not to look hopeful. There had been too many false dawns in the last week.
“Alive?” said Rincewind. “Male? Sane? Not in the Americas? Not struck by a meteorite? Not left incapacitated by a hake during an unusual fall of fish? Or killed in a duel?”
“No. At this moment he is in the tavern that you gentlemen frequent.”
“Does he have all his arms and legs?”
“Yes,” said Hex. “And… Rincewind?”
“Yes?”
“As one of two unexpected collateral events to this latest interference, the potato has been brought to these shores.”
“Hot damn!”
“And Arthur J. Nightingale is a ploughman and never learned to write.”
“Near miss there,” said Ridcully.

– shenanigans | Terry Pratchett, Ian Stewart, and Jack Cohen, The Science of Discworld II: The Globe

The Family of Henry VII with St George and the Dragon

At left, Henry VII, with Prince Arthur behind him, then Prince Henry (later Henry VIII), and Prince Edmund, who did not survive early childhood. To the right is Elizabeth of York, with Princess Margaret, then Princess Elizabeth who didn’t survive childhood, Princess Mary, and Princess Katherine, who died shortly after her birth.

Film Poster for Darkwing Duck

This picture is really special, as I drew it back in 2006 when I rediscovered Darkwing Duck (after surviving my childhood, that is :D). At that point, I had sketched many of these characters for the first time (actually everyone except Drake and Gos), but my aim was to unite the most important cast members of the show in something like a “film poster” - celebrating Darkwing Duck’s fifteenth birthday.

kashikoikawaiisaschachen  asked:

How intelligent do you think Zack really is? I think half of his stupidity comes from the lack of education. He did have some moments of intelligence, like when he was trying to figure out the writing of Ray's name.

Actually I think Zack isn’t that dumb. 

You’re right, half of his stupidity probably comes from his lack of education and when he tries, he can do it. He read Ray’s name, but at Eddie’s floor, he also thought of going to the other room with a crack on the wall because he deduced himself that it was connected to the room where Ray currently was. He deduced himself as well that the rock in front of Ray’s tomb was his tomb. He thought of asking Ray to get a lighter weapon for him in Episode 3 after he was hurt. He can wrap and unwrap his bandages himself. Once Ray told him that the cell bars were made of steel and he tested it once, he knew not to hit the bars again. In the game, he himself thinks of the vent as a place where Ray hasn’t searched yet in the poison room. He has survived alone during all this time without ever getting caught by the police. 

Also, the syringe’s room: he plans things out, there. If Ray dies, then he’s basically done for. However, if he dies, then Ray will have a problem, and as Cathy said, the syringe’s serum is not deadly. He think about that and that’s why he takes the two syringes. Knowing his vitality and strength, plus maybe the effect of the vitamins, he had good chances of surviving. Zack taking the two syringes was actually the best decision to get out of this dilemma. 

So yeah, he’s not an idiot. If he had received a proper education, went to school, etc. he would probably be way smarter. 

But as his resumes says, thinking is not his forte and he’s poor at planning. He just doesn’t think things through. That’s not how he works. He’s someone who acts a lot on instinct: act first and think after. He doesn’t take his time to think: when he has an idea, he goes for it.

That can be really stupid (aka breaking the card in the poison room, thinking that Ray could have gone through a locked door at B6) but that can also be really useful (aka throwing Ray into the vent) because he doesn’t ask himself too many questions.

He doesn’t hesitate often. That’s not how he works. He does things and if it doesn’t work, well fuck it. Planning is not his thing. 

That could come from his childhood, with survival instinct BUT SURVIVAL INSTINCT SHOULD HAVE PREVENTED YOU FROM SITTING IN A SUSPICIOUS LOOKING CHAIR IN THE MIDDLE OF AN EXECUTION ROOM, ZACK.

So I would say that Zack is naturally not a thinking person like Ray - he wouldn’t be a top grade student for example - and his lack of education doesn’t help. However, he’s far from being a complete moron: he has an instinctive kind of intelligence and can be quite clever.