my friend got me emotionally invested

anonymous asked:

So I know INTJs are the 'over analysts' but as an ENTP I've noticed that you guys can be the most clueless/ awkward in relationships and social situations. I have the tendency to analyse people to the point where I can predict them, A LOT. So basically, if not people, what do you guys 'over analyse'? Your blog is great btw! Keep it up!!

Okay… sorry this took a while to get to. It was an excellent question and I wanted to take my time in answering.

First off, I can’t speak for all INTJ’s. I don’t know how or what they analyze so this answer is going to be my personal opinion only. For any INTJs reading this, remember that we’re individuals. Just because my answer differs from yours or vica versa, it doesn’t change that we’re both INTJ’s.

Good. We got that clarified. Onwards.

It’s true that most INTJs tend to be socially awkward or emotionally awkward. However, for me it’s due more to over analyzing then lack of it at all… For example when I’m not invested or things are strictly business, (talking to a passenger on a bus or my coworker) I’m extremely socially capable. It’s when I start paying attention that things fall apart. It goes from “Joe peeked at his phone while I was talking. Meh, whatever” to “Joe could be a potential friend. I should care what he thinks. He looked at his phone while I was in the middle of a sentence. That means he wasn’t paying attention so my topic of conversation must be boring I should wrap this up as soon as possible. Unfortunately I’m loosing my train of thought because I’m too focused on Joe’s face scanning for any more indicators that he wants this conversation to end. Now I’m repeating myself and talking faster because my brain is going into hyper drive trying to plan out the conversation as well as be on high alert for body language indicating irritance or gladness accordingly. He grimaced slightly. Must be irritation. I’m messing this up. Slight panic. Brain switches to autopilot. Makes sarcastic comment and starts lecturing on whatever I know well. Abort. Mission failed.” That’s just a basic example. So, yeah… I over analyze into my social awkwardness.

As for what it is we over analyze? Just depends on the individual. I lean towards everything… films, books, people, school, chemicals, mathematical equations, my animals, basically if it’s in my mind it’s over analyzed. To be completely honest it’s absolutely annoying most of the time. However, it has it’s moments.

Hope this helps explain a little. Thank you for the encouragement by the way! It’s ALWAYS nice to hear that my ramblings are being enjoyed! :) Have a good week.


anonymous asked:

What is ... the Cambridge Latin Course?

omg, the CAMBRIDGE LATIN COURSE. Basically, if you ever took Latin at school in the UK, you probably took the Cambridge Latin Course. It’s really just a series of textbooks.

You follow a fictional family, Caecilius and Metella and their kids and their slaves and their dog through their lives. So you follow Caecilius to the forum and baths and Metella to the markets and their son Quintus and his friends to the races and their dog when it dreams of rabbits.


And then! If you take Latin further into GCSEs (basically, the UK OWLs), you discover that actually Quintus survives. I think my class actually gasped in the middle of Latin class, and let me tell you that doesn’t happen often lol, and he grows up and stops being schleppy teenager and starts growing up and there is CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

I actually got sent a submission about this that you should ABSOLUTELY READ BECAUSE IT IS FUCKING HILARIOUS

BPD Problems: I Hate Being the Last Person to Reply in a Conversation

When I’m having a conversation with a friend through text message, I get an adrenaline rush from feeling connected to another person. And I know, logically speaking, that at some point the conversation must end.

But when I’m the one who wrote the last message, especially if was substantive–something beyond just “Lol,” like a question–my mind goes into disaster mode. I feel like somehow I’m “weak” or more emotionally invested in the other person. I’ve left myself vulnerable to the possibility that they’re ending the conversation because they got bored. And that’s something that terrifies me.

Was I not funny enough? Compassionate enough? If I send another message am I being clingy? Am I already being clingy for messaging this person for as long as I have? Will this person ever want to talk to me again?  I must have done something wrong, somewhere along the way.

So I wait for a reply. I check my phone frequently. My anxiety kicks up and turns into sheer paranoia. I become convinced I must put distance between me and this friend. I do not allow myself to initiate another conversation with my friend–they must start it first, so I know they actually want to talk to me.

In a similar vein, if someone agrees to hang out but then never follows through and solidifies plans with me, I become distraught. Surely, if they wanted to hang out, they would have brought it up, right?! But they didn’t. My mind interprets this to mean they don’t want to see me ever again. And before I know it, I’m creating distance with this person. It doesn’t matter if we’ve been friends for years. I won’t start a conversation or ask to hang out ever again out of fear that I’m just burdensome to them.

It’s terrifying, really, how easily I’ll burn bridges. How easily I’ll throw away perfectly good friendships out of paranoia. It just doesn’t register with me that if someone has been friends with me for this long, without conflict, they still value me.

I confided to my boss that I’m really nervous and sad about leaving the PNW, that I only want to go home so I can see family and friends and my dog, that I feel anchored here and emotionally invested in the mountains and trees.

“Then stay,” he said, flatly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “Don’t go home. Crash on a friend’s couch until you find a job. You’ve got some money saved up, yeah? Make it work.”

I’m sure it is as simple as he says. Probably. But I know there’s a chain around my neck and I can feel it growing taut, pulling me back to Midwestern hell.

I can’t stay quiet about this anymore (TW: emotional abuse)

My name is Jennifer. I am known to many as Ant, or Antiloquist. And this has been sitting quiet for way too long. It’s finally time I stopped being afraid.

For a period of a few months over the course of 2014, I was emotionally abused by a man named Kelly “Van” Vanenglenhoven, known to many as “TheDarkPreacher”. He was 31 at the time. I was 18, freshly legal, and insecure about myself. Vanenglenhoven took advantage of that.

The rest of this will be under a readmore. I’m sorry, mobile users.

EDIT: I’ve updated this with more info and new proof! If you want to, feel free to reblog and signal boost!

EDIT 2 (4/11/15): I’ve added even more documentation, along with a disgusting (and very very incorrect) accusation he made at me.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What is your coming out story? :)

I grew up in a super small town that literally only has one set of traffic lights and we didn’t get a McDonalds until I was in grade 12 (and even then it is only open until 9pm) and there were absolutely no gay people. Seriously. Zero. I didn’t even know what gay really was since we just never discussed it as a family or town or between friends so I literally never questioned my sexuality because I didn’t realize there were any other options. When I was 15 (keep in mind this was 10 years ago, Ellen had just resurfaced and was becoming popular again), I was watching Degrassi with my two best friends and it was the episode where Alex and Paige kind of got together and then broke up and I couldn’t figure out why I was so emotionally invested in this couple and then all of a sudden I was like “holy shit, I’m gay”. It literally hit me right in that moment and I of course said it out loud (I didn’t realize being gay was a big deal since no one ever talked about it and so I didn’t think twice about telling my friends). So any who, I came out to my two best friends when I was 15 and then by Monday, my entire Catholic school had heard. It didn’t go well. I experienced a lot of homophobia and very scared/judgemental teens. But everything worked out and my school realized it was no biggie by the time I entered grade 12 and then I went to University and everything was okay. And that’s how I came out to my friends. 

During this time though, since I was experiencing a lot of hate in regards to my sexuality, I purposefully hid it from my mom for 5 years even though she’s the greatest and most loving mother I could ever have wished for. When I was 20, my sisters and I went to a Taylor Swift concert with my mom and my middle sister spent the entire evening describing everything she would do to T-swift if she had the chance (ie. sitting on her face) and my mom just smiled and totally accepted my sister for all of her (my sister has never come out as anything but growing up she was always very open and unapologetic in regards to her sexual experiences and interests). That night, I told my mom I was gay. I was a blubbering mess and my mom just hugged me and told me that I was still perfect and the same person I had always been. And that’s probably my favourite coming out story. It’s so hard to purposefully and carefully keep a huge part of yourself and your life a secret from the people you love the most. For 5 years I felt like I was drowning in a secret that was going to kill me. 

Oh and I came out to my dad somewhere in the middle of high school. He walked in on me and a girl kissing and he didn’t say a word. He just kind of walked back out of my room and the next day he asked me if I wanted to watch Brokeback Mountain with him. Keep in mind that being from a small town, we had one movie rental place and my dad must of went into the store and asked for an LGBT movie (at the time, Brokeback Mountain was all they had) in order to silently show me that he accepted me. I never actually told him I was gay but he has always been my biggest supporter. When I called him to tell him I was getting married he cried and was probably more excited than everyone combined. 

And those are my stories :)

- Em

Valentine’s Day Thoughts

This morning I got up, went for a run & then decided to go into town to treat myself to a Stickybeaks breakfast (green tea & oats/berries); I should probably name this place my second home the amount of times I have mentioned it here, but I swear that they’re not sponsoring me, and I really do go to other places.


I always forget how much I love going into the centre of Cambridge early on a Saturday morning. Most people are in bed, save a few drowsy shoppers or those who love to enjoy reading the weekend paper with an espresso. There is a certain aura of calm that is rarely felt in the day-to-day workings of this small yet busy city, and after the hectic week I have had, I’m glad I made the effort to get up super early to witness my favourite time of day here.

Sitting in Stickybeaks, I had to do reading for both Visual Culture and History & Theory of Literary Criticism (big surprise). So I had my laptop set up, books open, and I was quickly trying to book a restaurant table for a friend & I this evening, when I came across a small problem – Valentine’s Day. Most restaurants were only offering ‘love’ themed set menus, including “aphrodisiacs,” desserts to share… you get the picture. Well in any case, I ended up re-arranging dinner with my friend for Monday, where we figured restaurants will be suffering from complete desertion after this weekend’s antics, and will be begging for custom. But it was just quite annoying, and as you can expect from me, it got me thinking.

Growing up in a single-parent household with a mother who has never remarried, Valentine’s Day was pretty much non-existent in the (for want of a better word) ‘courtship’ sense. I grew up not really understanding the day, so now as an adult I just haven’t been emotionally or psychologically invested in the celebration at all. Most people probably assume my thoughts towards Valentine’s Day as a single girl is ‘ugh – couples’. Instead, it’s more like my mind is blank: I truly don’t care about being single on this ONE day of the 365-day year, instead I just feel a bit of confusion towards the day. I think ‘fair enough, you want to show you love somebody – go for it’. However, personally there’s always been a missing piece to the Valentine’s puzzle, in that I wonder why media and consumerism continually push the erotic undertones to Valentine’s Day. I’ve known many people who have said that they received cards/gifts from family members when they were younger; yet as we get older, this becomes a cute memory of those immature ages when we didn’t really understand what it was ‘all about’.

But what is it all about? The media tells us ‘love’, but this love is consistently infused with sex. I kind of think that’s a bit wrong, and I guess I’m not the only one, hence why so many people now have versions such as ‘Galentine’s Day’, which I find positive… but even in this pun on the name, it indicates a shift in the meaning of the day. I guess what I’m doing is expressing the desire for a Valentine’s Day where friends can go to a restaurant on a Saturday evening and not feel like they are being coerced into something sensual. 

Reams of people are constantly sold these kinds of things (e.g. ‘romantic’ meals) at this time of year: there are certain cultural codes that people feel they have to adhere to in order to celebrate the day sufficiently, and in a world where each relationship is different from the next, I find it difficult to believe that people can experience the day without any trace of artifice; without any trace of feeling like you ‘should’ be doing something. Even doing ‘nothing’ on this day feels like you are taking some kind of opposing position, making a decision to reject the day and what it stands for. We just can’t win.

On the table I was working at today, there were some fresh flowers. I thought of how important flowers are to our ideas of celebration. I thought about how many flowers will be given tomorrow – my mind conjured reams and reams of (red) roses, and I also imagined the intense rush to buy these highly desirable, seasonal gifts. But looking back at the flowers on my table, I saw that one of them was beginning to die, it’s petals turning brown and folding over into themselves; and I thought about how strange a gift flowers were to give on a day celebrating love, something which we are conditioned to believe is ‘everlasting’. But then I corrected myself. Love isn’t everlasting. I’ve known this from a very young age (ahem, divorced parents), and it’s actually something I’ll never forget. So I guess giving flowers is quite apt on a day like Valentine’s Day, as everything is susceptible to dying. Perhaps this is why lots of people appreciate the ‘small things’ such as being given flowers throughout institutions such as marriage – flowers perhaps mean a rebirth of love, a reinvigoration as it were. They’re actually quite a ‘big thing’.

In any case, I found contemplating all this interesting. I haven’t actually got any plans tomorrow other than an essay & some reading, just like any other Sunday. But I am quite glad that I grew up without any investment in the day other than sheer confusion, as it means that I don’t have any expectations for the day – or for any future February 14th for that matter. But I do hope that everybody has a wonderful day tomorrow, whatever it is you are doing – Happy Valentines Day! 

- Sarah xoxo

So my friend got me to watch Doctor Who, which is really unfortunate because it turns out I really like Doctor Who and now I’m emotionally invested, but my absolute favorite thing about this show is how often people hug.

Like, most shows are very hug-deficient. Maybe during emotional reunions you’ll get a hug or two, possibly one or two a season. At least in the shows I watch. But this one?

Are they about to go into danger? Hug.

Did they just get out of danger? Hug.

Did something really funny just happen? Hug.

Are they having a particularly good day? Hug.

Have they been out of each other’s sight for ten minutes? Damn straight they’re gonna hug.

It’s fantastic!

anonymous asked:

I think they were a couple, then hit the dark ages. Your friend said something really important the other day about not being angry unless you are emotionally invested or caring about someone. Unless you have a reason to you just don't stay angry at someone the way they did. Someone got really burnt and from that came the anger. Whatever it was, it was something. If I don't care about someone I don't get upset or stay upset if something minor happens. Anger takes energy, so there's something.

Yes. This hit me really hard:

She knew it was coming. She knew. And that breaks my heart.