re: fear is not a delusion


No secret can be kept from a Scorpio. And they have brilliant, hypnotic talents for drawing the concealed truth from other people. Scorpio’s innate reflex is to defend themselves from perceived rejection or trauma. Their survival instinct is reactive and programmed to scrutinise anyone who crosses their path. And this scrutiny generates from tremendous perception, a sixth sense unmatched by any other. Scorpio are acute observers. In every moment, they are secretly, consciously, or unconsciously surveilling everything. The individual typically remains intensely private. Trust is difficult to gain, and it’s not so much given but earned. Inherent fears of betrayal and deception create natural suspicious. There is an inborn fear of betrayal and treachery in Scorpio. Visions of past and present life trauma re-enact themselves in everyday life, the shadows that dwell in the mind and body are projected and worn of the faces of those they pass. 

Scorpios are fond of anything that involves penetrating mental depths and delusion. Their x-ray eyes have lenses that read the language of soul and spirit. A deep lulling stare into the Scorpio eyes could make one mesmerised. Their natural love of legal and criminal justice, psychoanalysis, investigation, forensics, and secret agent work reflects the cryptic and subliminal Scorpio expression. Their natural psychoanalytic gaze draws the truth from people like potent truth serum. And they spend copious time analyzing their own - and other people’s psychological behaviour. All is revealed to Scorpio. Actions speak the loudest words.


[art: Xue Wang]

anonymous asked:

Could you explain how delusions and paranoia differ from each other? Do delusions often start as paranoia? (I often think things like “what if he is reading my mind“ and a week later it will be “shit, he is reading my mind!“)

Delusions are very specific while paranoia is very non-specific, if that makes sense?

Like paranoia is the intense fear that something isn’t right, that people are out to get you or hurt you. But you don’t have a sense of which people are out to get you, how they’re going to do it, or why they’re doing it.

You just have this sense that “Oh something is wrong, I am in danger” and it causes you to not trust anyone, become defensive, and assume the people around you dislike you or hate you!

And yes! This can help form a delusion!

Delusions are much more specific, your belief has a lot more details in it. Your brain starts filling in the “how, what, when, why” part.

Also, another thing that separates delusions from paranoia is that paranoia is specifically built off anxiety, insecurity, and feeling like you’re vulnerable. Not all delusions are scary! Some people have delusions that they’re Gods, that a celebrity has fallen in love with them, etc etc.


Sorry if I’m over explaining but just to make sure that you completely understand, I’ll give an example of both!

Paranoia: “Someone is out to get me. Someone is going to hurt me. Everybody hates me. Someone is watching me.”

Delusion: “Susan from work is out to get me. She’s going to try to ruin my relationship. She is the one who’s trying to make everyone hate me. Susan is stalking me!”

you’ve got
bloody nails pressed into your skin
weathered, tender
white hot lightning, blistering wind

you’re the
lady of fear and the fight
i’m the
lord of the mirrors and night

i was
born of the blood and the sky
stranded beneath
the moon, a pale and winking eye

you are
a product of man and insight
left behind
aware of the real and the right

come alive
burdened with knowledge of reality: illusion
clawing for
some deliverance beyond cold delusion

but we
exist on two polar opposite planes
like a 
poem, torn in half, but the feeling remains

so i
press my cracked lips to silver glass
and you
struggle to accept this immutable impasse 

Aquarius - Awakening the Divine Feminine 

As we enter the Age of Aquarius, the sign of Aquarius facilitates the cleansing of consciousness and the transfiguration of energy for widespread change. Aquarius is the Mother of Humanity, a sign whose qualities become progressively potent during a shift in frequencies. The energy of the Aquarius Age promotes the loss of ego so Blue Light Christ Consciousness can be activated singularly for all beings. Part of this shift releases the Divine Feminine, the feminine energy present in everybody that has been suppressed into the unconscious and painfully exorcised. The Age of Pisces swept the mass delusion of religion and religious authority. As we move deeper into the Age of Pisces we find no mention of the Goddess or Mother as supreme being, that who had been worshiped for centuries. It was now ‘Our Father’, and the demonisation of feminine sexuality or energy. Aquarius energy enables the loss of pride, self serving corruption, and gluttony to re-connect with the soul of humanity, to realise the destructive nature of our fear and containment, the loving consciousness of the Great Mother to reignite the magic alive in every child. The plants come alive with faces and messages from the divine. As we have become more trapped by ego, we have lost our inherent relationship with nature, and the Mother’s purity of consciousness allows for this intimacy to again exist between nature and humanity, so we can be guided once more by the wisdom of Mother Earth. Aquarius is the vessel of consciousness that activates this perception. The Divine Mother is born from harnessing this vessel in its purest form. The Goddess was anciently worshiped as the ultimate creator, the essence of creative sexual energy that underlies all living being. As this sacred energy became tainted through ego, hatred, and religious patriarchy, so did the depravity of our sexual nature. Too many women have been victims of this imbalance, suffering oppression, assault, and abuse. Aquarius rebuilds the temple of honour and protection, Isis guards the vile animal from entering. 

Heracles was revered for his inhuman acts, his works were extraordinary, and yet this was because Heracles was partly divine. His death was remarkable in the sense it was violent and painstaking because everything impure had to be incinerated to mark true death. When Heracles ascended to completion, spiritual divinity, he was rewarded with a wife. This wife was the young daughter of Hera and Zeus. She was beautiful, youthful, and virtuous. Her name was Hebe, and she is the cup bearer for the gods, holding 2 vessels in her hands. It is she who serves fine fruit and wine to the Gods, she is Aquarius. She was the gift of purity, after ego had died its true death, she is the portion of consciousness that awakens the Divine Feminine. “While the sign of Gemini represents “equal rulership” between the masculine and feminine energies, Aquarius harkens to the divine power inherent within an act of co-rulership between these two polarity expressions in the divine image and similitude.” - Maia Kyi'Ra Nartoomid


(art - Jasmine Beckett-Griffith)

i think im going to start drawing the things i see, I’ve never done it in the past (over 10 yrs now of course) b/c hallucinating scares me. im scared of myself. there’s no cure to auditory & visual hallucinations & it’s worrisome tht i can’t go throughout my day without being reminded of my delusions & fear. they’ve never been this vivid & lasting therefore maybe i can get better help if i show them what i see. i just don’t like to remind myself of what my mind creates b/c they’re terrifying as is. im still debating it b/c even thinking about them scares me but here i am watching Donnie Darko & remembering tht this illness may not be common but it’s not abnormal. i don’t deserve to fear myself. regardless of me becoming violent, hallucinating, losing my motor, detachment, etc


Screaming from the inside of me.
A lonely and pleading phantasm.
We only get what we see
Gazing so desperately
Between the things that we fear
Gazing so desperately
Elaborate delusions.
We’re watching segregating illusions.
Between the things that we see, and the things that we fear.

No, no it won’t make them disappear…

anonymous asked:

Re: that post about how easy it is to manipulate psychotic people: how do you help them, then? how do you keep them grounded and level if you can't tell them when their perceptions are wrong or when they're being paranoid or when their reactions are completely disproportionate to the situation? what do you do when your options are to do the same shit as a Bad PersonTM except without bad intentions?

the post never mentioned that you couldn’t do that, you’re allowed to say that what they’re perceiving is a delusion or hallucination. you can reassure them when they’re being paranoid. however, don’t judge their reactions as disproportionate to a situation - feelings are never invalid. how a person feels is not wrong - it’s how they act that can be determined as “right” or “wrong” (an example of this is i’m experiencing a paranoid delusion. that in itself is a valid fear i’m experiencing. however, should i use that as an excuse to abuse someone else - that is wrong. feelings are as natural as the weather and should be treated as such).

but as someone who is experiences psychosis themself and knows other people who experiences psychosis, i can usually tell when i’m experiencing a hallucination or delusion, and so can they. sometimes it’s just a matter of waiting it out, but on the other hand sometimes it’s a good idea to reassure someone that they’re safe when they do not feel safe, sometimes it’s a good idea to reassure someone that they are loved when they do not feel loved. a delusion in particular is difficult because we often believe what we believe at the time is the unquestionable truth, so don’t turn it into an argument if the person experiencing psychosis says you’re wrong when you try to reassure them. don’t get aggressive. don’t get forceful. don’t manipulate or gaslight. do reassure them when you can, do be patient, do be respectful of what they’re feeling, do try to understand how they’re perceiving a situation, do give them a space where they can experience the delusion safely (so if they’re out in public, get them somewhere where they won’t hurt themselves), and finally, wait for it to pass. sometimes you can’t stop a delusion. sometimes you can’t help a delusion. sometimes you just have to wait.

if there’s anything else my followers can add onto this it would be appreciated. i’m only one person & i’m positive i’ve missed some stuff out. if you experience psychosis or know someone who experiences psychosis, please feel free to add something if you can (or correct me if i’ve made a mistake ;v;)

Living amends means caring for my future self

One thing I learned by growing up as a girl was that I wasn’t a person. Another thing I learned was that if I wasn’t vigilant, I wouldn’t survive. I learned that I might not survive anyway, despite my vigilance, and I’d often lay awake in the odd hours rehearsing what to do when a violent male came to end me. The best thing I came up with was to not give him the satisfaction of the expected reaction. I would be preternaturally calm, I decided–no tears, no screaming. In the end, if overpowered, I would refuse to act like prey. I might even act as though it was my own idea. Nod sagely and say, I’ve been expecting you.

Looking back I see this clearly as the dysfunctional coping tool of a powerless child. I also see it as the underpinning of most of the third wave. I’ll do it to myself first, before you can do it to me. You’re going to rape me regardless, so I’ll “consent;” it’s not rape if I say yes. If I say it was my idea.

When I was a child and someone asked what my favorite color was, I became anxious and tried to figure out the correct answer. It never occurred to me that I could have preferences, that a color might please my eyes. I didn’t know how to see, let alone how to tell what pleased me. I didn’t know there was a me to please.

When I think about these things now, it makes me sad. My life is safe and stable enough now that I can afford to feel more of my grief, and so it comes up in small waves and I’m left with greater compassion for myself and for other women, too.

Today I’ve been feeling a little more of my grief about what I put myself through when I transitioned, and what I put myself through initially when I changed course on that. I hadn’t been a self to begin with, and “transition,” working from the outside in, didn’t get me there.

When I stopped transition, there was no self to “go back to,” but a terrifying void to confront instead. So I didn’t exactly detransition, at first. It was something else. More “gender” aspirations and rules and words and supposed tos, more “identity” in place of self.

I’ve made oblique references to this before, but when I initially stopped transitioning ftm, I believed that I’d ruined what ability I had to be recognized as female, and couldn’t “pass” as such anymore. This pushed me into a different extreme, modeled on mtf transition, because I assumed I’d be interpreted that way. It wasn’t about what I wanted. It wasn’t about what I liked or how I felt comfortable. Again, I didn’t have a self to consult about these matters. I was mostly a disconnected brain and a dysfunctional nervous system. I based my course of action on a series of “if-then” functions. It was algebraic, not about anything like real desire, as I understand desire now.

The first few years were awful. Whereas “masculinity” had its pitfalls for me–endless striving toward a horizon, re-inscribing self hate into my body, feeding toxic delusions–it was, at least in some ways, fairly comfortable. My body was covered, and I could be as minimal and no-frills as I liked.

When I initially changed course and started to try to do “femininity,” my nervous system went into shock. It was abject humiliation, and didn’t feel any more like a choice than any other desperate measure taken under duress. My “gender expression” was borne of sublimated rage: You want “target?” I’ll show you “target." I was in constant fear of being raped and killed. At some point I started packing again, to cope. (As an aside, my sex dysphoria ran riot regardless of "gender”–it wasn’t solved by trying to pass as male or by this behavior.)

Like drinking, or drugs, the lifestyle humiliation of “femininity” was a way to end myself, though I would never have said so then. It was all choice and empowerment, of course. It was defiance, not compliance. Fierce.

In translandia, I’d parroted a lot of drivel about my future; drivel that I believed because I had no experience of authenticity to compare it to. The only future I can see is being a man. Half-truths that wouldn’t stand up to a moment’s scrutiny or curiosity about why:  I can’t see myself ever being an old woman, only an old man. If I can’t transition I will die or lose my sobriety.

The truth was that I couldn’t see a future at all in any instance. In fact I never expected to live past 20 at the outside. It was just inconceivable to think of ever actually living long enough to get old.

I had to keep moving, making more and bigger distractions. Transitioning was a primary emergency until I needed another one. My initial method of “detransition” became another one. What was underneath was screaming and my whole life strategy was a suffocation of that breath, a willful not-listening. 

I did not believe in a future self. In the moments when I glimpsed her, I wanted her punished, or dead–and did what I could to mark my current pain indelibly onto any future I might live to see.

This is the primary thing I have changed about how I live. It’s what I finally reversed. It started as more of a formula. An equation. Faced with a decision, I began to settle it based on what decision would most greatly benefit my future self as an old woman. At first it felt surreal and hypothetical at best. I practiced it. I did get older, and lived long enough for perspective to cast this method with a credibility it never could have held in my twenties.

Now my future self is the woman to whom I give my greatest gifts and for whom I make my most costly sacrifices. Oddly, when I treat my future self with love and care, the effect ripples backward in time to pieces of me that are still caught in being that frozen child who did not know she had a self or could prefer one color over another, or that she might live. I am continually becoming the future self who gets to reap the benefits of what I’ve paid forward in time. The fragments cohere. The body I live in now doesn’t need to scream to tell me what it likes, wants. My life is listening.