It's All In Your Head

"Stop saying 15 year olds with weird interests are cringe, they're 15" this is true however you should also stop saying adults with weird interests are cringe because who gives a shit

To wit:

I want to share some wisdom from my high school art teacher.

In my AP Art class, there was a girl who was just starting to experiment with mixed media. At this point she was still playing around, trying to decide what direction she wanted to go with her portfolio. So one critique day, she brought in an abstract canvas with some rhinestone highlights and painted and real peacock feathers. She loved sparkles and peacock feathers so she thought she’d try introducing them a *little*. And after everyone had given some input, the teacher gave her his advice, VERY roughly paraphrased here:

“So here’s the thing… I do not like this style. These are just elements that do not speak to me personally, but I see that you like them, and you’re doing interesting things with them.

“My biggest critique is, I only merely *dislike* this piece. I want you to make me HATE it. Go crazy with the things that you like. Don’t hold back trying to make it palatable to people like me. Because I am NEVER going to like it. And if the audience does not like it, it should drive them crazy seeing how much YOU love it.”

Her portfolio was chock full of neon colors and glitter and rhinestones and splashes of peacock feathers and it was a delight. Our teacher despised every piece lol, but she got great marks and I think even won some awards. And more importantly, she was happy and proud of the results. Because she didn’t limit herself by trying to appeal to people who were never going to enjoy what she enjoyed.

Takeaway here: be as cringe as you want. Don’t limit yourself based on other ppl’s tastes. They’re not you, and you are incredible 💕

existing with adhd be like

it's 11:45pm. i think 'i should wrap up and go to bed', fully ready to do so. i blink. i look at the clock. it's 2:20 am. i have no idea how that much time passed.

I needed this.

Thank you to all the people who posted this so I ended up seeing it. I really needed this right now. Thank you!

Yeah… Not gonna lie… I cried…

We need more people like this

Goddamn it stop making me feel human

The therapist I wanna be.

Text in the image:

“I’m a therapist and keep this poster in my waiting room, apparently it’s saved a few lives.”

I don’t like the phrase “a cry for help.” I just don’t like how it sounds. When somebody says to me, “I’m thinking about suicide. I have a plan: I just need a reason not to do it,” the last thing I see is helplessness.

I think your depression has been beating you up for years. It’s called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and a failure, for so long that you’ve forgotten that it’s wrong. You don’t see any good in yourself, and you don’t have any hope.

But still here you are: you’ve come over to me, banged on my door and said, “HEY! Staying alive is REALLY HARD right now! Just give me something to fight with! I don’t care if it’s a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!”

How is that helpless? I think that’s incredible. You’re like a marine: trapped for years behind enemy lines. Your gun has been taken away, you’re out of ammo, you’re malnourished, and you’ve probably caught some kind of jungle virus that’s making you hallucinate giant spiders.

And you’re still just going, “GIVE ME A STICK. I’M NOT DYING OUT HERE.” “A cry for help” makes it sound like I’m supposed to take pity on you, but you don’t need my pity. This isn’t pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans lived long enough to become the dominant species.

With NO hope, running on NOTHING, you’re ready to cut through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing but a stick, if that’s what it takes to get to safety.

All I’m doing is handing out sticks.

You’re the one saying alive.

I legit cried at this. I’ve needed to hear it put this way. Bless this post.

Every time I see this post I stop to read the whole image. It always helps — even on the good days.

Because it wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t shameful to seek help. It wasn’t pathetic to “cry for help”. I was looking for a stick, be that from myself or from someone else. I was trying to find a way out. I was trying to heal myself.

this is fuckin incredible. 

I’m sorry if I repost to many of these, but if it could be someone’s “stick” then it’s worth it

For anyone that needs to read this today. 

-FemaleWarrior, She/They 

They also have this one and I think quite a few others but these two I keep on my phone and pull up on my bad days.

Text on second poster:

‘WHY ARE YOU SO LAZY?’

But you’re not lazy. Lazy is when you shrug things off because you can’t summon up the give-a-damn. When you’re curled up tight in your chair at your desk, alone and grey and desperately wishing that you had your life in order, that you did all those things you had to do, that it didn’t feel like breaking rocks just to feed and clothe yourself and get some sleep, that’s not lazy.

People don’t understand. You tell them “It’s hard.” They tell you “No it isn’t, you’re just lazy.”

You start to wonder if they’re right.

is breaking those rocks easy for everyone else? Are they that much stronger than you?

They don’t look like they’re struggling.

“Just try harder,” they say. But you’re trying. It’s not working.

Breaking boulders in your path until you’re spent isn’t lazy. And you do it day after day after day.

You’re not lazy. Most people don’t have those rocks to break. They don’t even know what it’s like to have to break rocks to get things done. They don’t understand how hard you have to work, and how hopeless you can feel, when you try and fail to do what they do so easily. Things are harder for you. They really are. And if those people had to deal with your problems, they wouldn’t be doing any better.

You’re not lazy. You’re not weak. You’re fighting hard. I guess I just want you to know that I know that.

When the chronic fatigue is chronic

thinking about this older Black lesbian i met once (genuinely older, like, in her 50s), who said that while she's polyamorous she's not in a polycule, she's part of a galaxy. she explained that some people were planets, they were a big part of her life and very consistently present, others were comets, only in her life for a little while but enjoyably so, and others were moons, present, but not as present or consistent as others. and the way she talked about it and the smile on her face were both beautiful.

i just really love this idea. way too many polyamory set ups are like "this is my wife and my almost-wife", just echoing straight marriages with a small twist, and not only is this a model that breaks away from that, it also allows for like, the reality of how even the people who love you might not always be available, whether because of time or distance or disability, and that's okay. i think i might adopt this model, actually.

Please don't ask me for relationship advice unless you are prepared to receive some truly upsetting information because some people are ready for the "He's exhibiting the literal textbook signs of a psychological abuser and you need to get away from him before he successfully cuts you off from your support network" talk and some people aren't

FOR WHOEVER NEEDS A REMINDER:

So what I’ve learned from the past couple months of being really loud about being a bi woman on Tumblr is: A lot of young/new LGBT+ people on this site do not understand that some of the stuff they’re saying comes across to other LGBT+ people as offensive, aggressive, or threatening. And when they actually find out the history and context, a lot of them go, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I never meant to say that.”

Like, “queer is a slur”: I get the impression that people saying this are like… oh, how I might react if I heard someone refer to all gay men as “f*gs”. Like, “Oh wow, that’s a super loaded word with a bunch of negative freight behind it, are you really sure you want to put that word on people who are still very raw and would be alarmed, upset, or offended if they heard you call them it, no matter what you intended?”

So they’re really surprised when self-described queers respond with a LOT of hostility to what feels like a well-intentioned reminder that some people might not like it. 

That’s because there’s a history of “political lesbians”, like Sheila Jeffreys, who believe that no matter their sexual orientation, women should cut off all social contact with men, who are fundamentally evil, and only date the “correct” sex, which is other women. Political lesbians claim that relationships between women, especially ones that don’t contain lust, are fundamentally pure, good, and  unproblematic. They therefore regard most of the LGBT community with deep suspicion, because its members are either way too into sex, into the wrong kind of sex, into sex with men, are men themselves, or somehow challenge the very definitions of sex and gender. 

When “queer theory” arrived in the 1980s and 1990s as an organized attempt by many diverse LGBT+ people in academia to sit down and talk about the social oppressions they face, political lesbians like Jeffreys attacked it harshly, publishing articles like “The Queer Disappearance of Lesbians”, arguing that because queer theory said it was okay to be a man or stop being a man or want to have sex with a man, it was fundamentally evil and destructive. And this attitude has echoed through the years; many LGBT+ people have experience being harshly criticized by radical feminists because being anything but a cis “gold star lesbian” (another phrase that gives me war flashbacks) was considered patriarchal, oppressive, and basically evil.

And when those arguments happened, “queer” was a good umbrella to shelter under, even when people didn’t know the intricacies of academic queer theory; people who identified as “queer” were more likely to be accepting and understanding, and “queer” was often the only label or community bisexual and nonbinary people didn’t get chased out of. If someone didn’t disagree that people got to call themselves queer, but didn’t want to be called queer themselves, they could just say “I don’t like being called queer” and that was that. Being “queer” was to being LGBT as being a “feminist” was to being a woman; it was opt-in.

But this history isn’t evident when these interactions happen. We don’t sit down and say, “Okay, so forty years ago there was this woman named Sheila, and…” Instead we queers go POP! like pufferfish, instantly on the defensive, a red haze descending over our vision, and bellow, “DO NOT TELL ME WHAT WORDS I CANNOT USE,” because we cannot find a way to say, “This word is so vital and precious to me, I wouldn’t be alive in the same way if I lost it.” And then the people who just pointed out that this word has a history, JEEZ, way to overreact, go away very confused and off-put, because they were just trying to say.

But I’ve found that once this is explained, a lot of people go, “Oh wow, okay, I did NOT mean to insinuate that, I didn’t realize that I was also saying something with a lot of painful freight to it.”

And that? That gives me hope for the future.

Similarily: “Dyke/butch/femme are lesbian words, bisexual/pansexual women shouldn’t use them.”

When I speak to them, lesbians who say this seem to be under the impression that bisexuals must have our own history and culture and words that are all perfectly nice, so why can’t we just use those without poaching someone else’s?

And often, they’re really shocked when I tell them: We don’t. We can’t. I’d love to; it’s not possible.

“Lesbian” used to be a word that simply meant a woman who loved other women. And until feminism, very, very few women had the economic freedom to choose to live entirely away from men. Lesbian bars that began in the 1930s didn’t interrogate you about your history at the door; many of the women who went there seeking romantic or sexual relationships with other women were married to men at the time. When The Daughters of Bilitis formed in 1955 to work for the civil and political wellbeing of lesbians, the majority of its members were closeted, married women, and for those women, leaving their husbands and committing to lesbian partners was a risky and arduous process the organization helped them with. Women were admitted whether or not they’d at one point truly loved or desired their husbands or other men–the important thing was that they loved women and wanted to explore that desire.

Lesbian groups turned against bisexual and pansexual women as a class in the 1970s and 80s, when radical feminists began to teach that to escape the Patriarchy’s evil influence, women needed to cut themselves off from men entirely. Having relationships with men was “sleeping with the enemy” and colluding with oppression. Many lesbian radical feminists viewed, and still view, bisexuality as a fundamentally disordered condition that makes bisexuals unstable, abusive, anti-feminist, and untrustworthy.

(This despite the fact that radical feminists and political lesbians are actually a small fraction of lesbians and wlw, and lesbians do tend, overall, to have positive attitudes towards bisexuals.)

That process of expelling bi women from lesbian groups with immense prejudice continues to this day and leaves scars on a lot of bi/pan people. A lot of bisexuals, myself included, have an experience of “double discrimination”; we are made to feel unwelcome or invisible both in straight society, and in LGBT spaces. And part of this is because attempts to build a bisexual/pansexual community identity have met with strong resistance from gays and lesbians, so we have far fewer books, resources, histories, icons, organizations, events, and resources than gays and lesbians do, despite numerically outnumbering them..

So every time I hear that phrase, it’s another painful reminder for me of all the experiences I’ve had being rejected by the lesbian community. But bisexual experiences don’t get talked about or signalboosted much,so a lot of young/new lesbians literally haven’t learned this aspect of LGBT+ history.

And once I’ve explained it, I’ve had a heartening number of lesbians go, “That’s not what I wanted to happen, so I’m going to stop saying that.”

This is good information for people who carry on with the “queer is a slur” rhetoric and don’t comprehend the push back.

ive been saying for years that around 10 years ago on tumblr, it was only radfems who were pushing the queer as slur rhetoric, and everyone who was trans or bi or allies to them would push back - radfems openly admitted that the reason they disliked the term “queer” was because it lumped them in with trans people and bi women. over the years, the queer is a slur rhetoric spread in large part due to that influence, but radfems were more covert about their reasons - and now it’s a much more prevalent belief on tumblr - more so than on any queer space i’ve been in online or offline - memory online is very short-term unfortunately bc now i see a lot of ppl, some of them bi or trans themselves, who make this argument and vehemently deny this history but…yep

Or asexuality, which has been a concept in discussions on sexuality since 1869. Initially grouped slightly to the left, as in the categories were ‘heterosexual’, ‘homosexual’, and ‘monosexual’ (which is used differently now, but then described what we would call asexuality). Later was quite happily folded in as a category of queerness by Magnus Hirschfeld and Emma Trosse in the 1890s, as an orientation that was not heterosexuality and thus part of the community.

Another good source here, also talking about aromanticism as well. Aspec people have been included in queer studies as long as queer studies have existed.

Also, just in my own experiences, the backlash against ‘queer’ is still really recent. When I was first working out my orientation at thirteen in 2000, there was absolutely zero issue with the term. I hung out on queer sites, looked for queer media, and was intrigued by queer studies. There were literally sections of bookstores in Glebe and Newtown labelled ‘Queer’. It was just… there, and so were we!

So it blows my mind when there are these fifteen-year-olds earnestly telling me - someone who’s called themself queer longer than they’ve been alive - that “que*r is a slur.” Unfortunately, I have got reactive/defensive for the same reasons OP has mentioned. I will absolutely work on biting down my initial defensiveness and trying to explain - in good faith - the history of the word, and how it’s been misappropriated and tarnished by exclusionists.

Worth noting here is a sneaky new front I’ve seen radfems start using:

Yeah, okay, maybe older LGBTs use queer and fag and dyke…but they’re cringey, and you don’t want to be cringe, do you?

I’m not even joking. They strip the loud-and-proud aspects of our history out of all context, remove every bit of blood, sweat, and tears the queer community poured into things like anti-discrimination laws and AIDS research funding, and use those screams of rebellion to say we’re weird, and you wouldn’t want to be WEIRD.

Stop and think about that for a minute.

Yeah. They are not the arbiters of our community and they never were, and it’s important to not give them the time of day.

Which is why it’s important to not be mean.

Their cult teaches them that the world is full of scary monster people who hate them for being so good and loved by god. If you swear at them and call them names or get in their face you’re just doing the cults work for it.

I’m not saying you have to listen to their presentation or try to debate them (and really getting into a debate without thoroughly understanding what they’re being taught will just make things worse)… I am just saying to be polite and say no thank you like if they were trying to hand you a flyer for something you don’t care about.

It’s easier for them to see the world outside their bubble as less scary if they see everyday people just going about their business and being as nice to them as you are to everyone else. This goes doubly for anyone who happens to dress modestly, not swear, and not drink or smoke because whatever you believe, they’ll see you as a “good” person who happens to strangely have no interest in their “message”, and that might be enough to get some curious about the possibility of themselves living in the real world.

It’s sometimes hard to be nice to people who seem to represent something you dislike. Just remember these “elders” are sheltered young men, some of which are getting their first real contact with people of other/no faiths.

They are not your enemy. They are victims.

So I’m from a country family. Part of what I was taught as a kid was guests, no matter if you wanted them are not, are treated to a drink and hospitality. So a few years ago a few of these guys came to my door. It was a really hot day out, like high 90’s. So I invited them in for a drink but I made it very clear, I will listen to their basic conversation while they have a drink but I absolutely have no intention of converting or changing my religion. We had a pleasant conversation for about twenty minutes, then they went on their way without leaving any pamphlets or anything and I figured that was the end of it.

About six months later, I had a new group come to my door. I invited them in for a drink and the two immediately jumped back and went to check my address. They then told me they were told about me in their missionary prep class (because they do that). That I was the only actual ‘good person’ on the route because I didn’t actually yell at them, slam doors in their face, or treat them how they were taught the world was. So we once again had a conversation over tea about how sometimes people just don’t appreciate it when someone shows up to their door trying to push a religion on them. I asked them how they would feel if someone who was Heathenistic appearing on their doorstep telling them how acknowledging Odin as the high god is the only way to save them. They admitted they would be really upset and uncomfortable about that.

Long story short after about two more times of this happening I later learned I was removed from the houses the missionaries were allowed to visit. Apparently I was causing a lot of the young missionaries to question what they were taught and was deemed a concern by the elders of their church because many were asking questions after visiting me. All it took was an offer of a drink and a few kind but intellectual questions to make them ask questions and actually listen to what I was saying.

I guess my overall point is, like the above says you are going to get a lot farther by being kind then being an asshole

I just saw someone say the words "jokingly gaslight" this might be a good time to reintroduce the internet to the terms "lying" or perhaps "pranking" or even just "joking" on it's own

Okay, say it with me guys…

If you are giving someone wrong information in the hopes that they'll believe that it's true, then that's lying.

If you are giving someone wrong information under the assumption that they'll ultimately realise that it's false, and that they will find this funny, then that's joking.

If you are giving someone wrong information in the hopes that they'll believe that it's true and that their response will be funny, then that's a prank.

If you are giving someone wrong information in the hopes that they will notice the differences between your presentation of reality and their perception of it, and come to doubt their ability to judge what is and is not real, then that's gaslighting.

now dont leave this in the tags

If you are giving someone wrong information and you assume they will know it is wrong, in hopes that they will play along, then that’s a bit.

i'm helping out at a creative writing workshop for uhhh i think 10-12s? 10-14s? idk. but that age range. and anyways

a) i forgot how fun this is

b) it's really hard not to like, re-write for them and stick to just "hey add descriptions here, change this grammar, really cool ideas!" bc i'm an adult and not trying to talk over/railroad these kids, but i'm just so excited for their ideas!!!

c) little boys write cool stuff like "what if we went to mars but it sucked so we left, but left behind all our technology and the technology rose up and created its own society and then went to war with us for abandoning them? what if transformers had 100x the war crimes? what if the earth blew up. what if we were the robots all along?"

d) little girls out here writing like "aunt melanie's skin was sloughing off the bones as her beloved dogs tore her apart, turning on her in blind animal instinct. the second she stopped providing food, she became food." and a lot of body horror and dark themes about group pacts and betrayals and ritualistic murder/sacrifices. like a lot

there's a board filled with dozens and dozens of little construction paper thought bubbles that have some pretty generic plot points in them (what if there were aliens? what if you time travelled? what is true love? what if you could talk to animals? kinda stuff) and we encouraged them to write at least a paragraph for each one and not just pick the one that sounded coolest, just to see what sparks inspiration.

EVERY single little girl took the 'fall in love one' and did something unconventional with it.

some of them were stories about self-empowerment and falling in love with yourself, or falling in love with the mundane, life itself, a pet, a garden, a hobby, just loving being alive! (😭🥺🥰)

but a lot of them were deeply fucked up stories about like "what if you fall in love with a guy but he doesn't like you the same amount back, so you biopsy his liver (??) because you found an old polish love potion/spell, but it backfires like some kinda djinn wish and you actually mind control him and it takes you years to notice that you're whole love life has been a deception bc you accidentally turned on god mode without realizing it, and now you're questioning if you're even lovable at all bc this is the only person you've ever allowed to love you, and it wasn't even real, so now you're spiralling into a breakdown, but that old polish spell book you buried under a tree is whispering your name so you try to fix it and make everything worse?"

me, turning to the teacher who is also doing this: hey so, i'm personally really cool with the tone and direction these girls take, but is any of this? how you say... a red flag?

teacher: little girls have really rich inner lives to combat the way they're puppeted by society in real life. they'll learn to censor it out in a couple years, but it doesn't go away.

me, who was also a weird little girl who phased in and out of weirdness depending on social settings: nice.

One thing that MASSIVELY pisses me off is how fainting is shown in media. It’s always the person sways a little, collapses in one movement, and then is unconscious for like… fucking ages??? They wake up hours later tucked under a blanket and it’s acted like that’s normal. It’s NOT. A person that’s fainted should be back with you pretty quickly, actually:

(From NHS website)

I had an experience in my last work place where I fainted, but because it looks so different to how it’s shown in film and TV my managers had no idea what had happened. Here’s a comparison of usual media vs my actual fainting that they were all confused by-

Films, TV shows, plays etc:

1) Person goes “oh goodness” or something similar whilst holding hand to chest

2) eyes roll back, gracefully falls to the floor

3) nearby people see the poor fainted person, pick them up, put them on a bed or sofa

4) person comes to hours or even days later with no idea what happened and everyone else is just like “oh good you’ve woken up 🙂”

My usual fainting experience:

1) Everything starts spinning. Incapable of making words as my sole focus is on trying to get myself to the ground ASAP

2) Stumble to floor/chair/ anything I can lean against

3) Quick violent slump as actual faint occurs. There is no dainty falling- the whole body has hit shut down. Usually smack my head on the floor if I haven’t managed to get myself somewhere soft

4) Aware of surroundings almost immediately, but takes a few seconds to fully come back round

5) Carefully sit back up and explain to everyone going “what the fuck happened” that I fainted, and no, I do not need smelling salts actually.

This is like the heart attack discourse...  much needed.

100% how fainting looks and feels, from both sides.

this is from a "manipulation advice" video and it's just so fucking funny to me. why didn't I think of responding to insults like this

same energy

I do this to like.

I adopt a worried look in my eye, maybe even put a hand on their shoulder if able, and I just muster up the most concerned “Hey, are you feeling okay?” I can.

Just throws them off their stride and makes them think something is *wrong* with them.

chronic fatigue from mental illness and neurodivergency isn't something you can just will your way out of. your nervous system is part of your body. your brain is an organ. the fatigue is real. you're not lazy. so be kinder to yourself. be gentler with your bodymind.

rare vent art from a few months ago

I feel this!!! Also love how you muted the color along the way, I think it makes it that much more impactful!

This is the thing!

im like no worries & then feel so upset i get chest pains

They're roommates

sorry for being so weird it's my first time being alive

NOT sorry for being so weird it’s my ONLY time being alive

you can do whatever you want forever

hell yes. realest shit ever said

i love it when people can't finish telling a joke or a story because they are laughing so hard. they get the giggles and whatever they are saying is absolutely incomprehensible. nothing could be as funny as watching them struggle through it, nothing could be as infectious as their joy. truly a wonderful human moment

Remember: being in pain uses energy. There’s nothing wrong with taking a long nap or sleeping in late after being in pain all day. If you need to rest, do it; don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise.

Listen to your body and its needs.

sometimes plushies make me cry because it’s like. they’re little guys made to be loved. their only purpose is to be held and hugged and loved. we made them because we love making things and we love loving things. and they’re so cute

Years back, I was working at a specialty store, and we got this HUGE crate of plushy toys. They were all insanely cute and squishy. I knew kids would go nuts for them, as it was the first week of December, so parents and grandparents often had kids with them while shopping for furniture, lamps, cooking equipment, lights, etc.

One night, I was working my last hour of my shift covering the Customer Service desk, which meant when I wasn't busy, I was supposed to help clean up around the cash registers, including taking back items people changed their minds about at the checkout. Earlier, I had witnessed a kid carrying thos cute plushy toy. It was a brown and white hedgehog. The kid, at the checkout, saw a remote control car and he told his dad he qanted it. The dad told him, "The plushy or the car- you can't have both" (by the way, I respect boundaries with kids and parents sticking to their guns about it), and the kid picked the car.

So, I'm cleaning up, have less than an hour left of my shift, and I see the little plushy hedgehog. Somehow, he never got put back nor had anyone else seen him and decided to buy him. He was just sitting there, slumped to the side, unattended.

It's Christmas and I'm a sentimental old sap at heart. My brain starts replaying the scene from RUDOLPH where he's on the Island of Misfot Toys, and is told a toy is never truly happy until it is loved. I picked him up and quickly took him back to the bin with the plushies but... It was empty. He was literally the last plushy toy and my boss was about to wheel the bin out. We weren't getting any more toys till November, so that meant any toys left at this point needed to sell or they'd be sent to the dump.

I brought the little hedgehog to the front, figuring someone would see him with the candy, candles, & Christmas brick-a-brack, and fall in love with him. When I finished my shift, I went to ask my manager a question and as I passed the Christmas candle display - there he sat, the sad little slumped over hedgehog plushy. No one had bought him, or even moved him.

My manager, Phillip, saw me and the hedgehog. He asked how the hedgehog got there. I told him how I'd put him there when the bin got sent back, and he was the only plushy left. Philip had kids, I figured he'd probably get sentimental and buy it for his kids. Nope. He shrugged and said he'd send it back to be disposed of.

That night, I came home with a plushy hedgehog in my passenger seat. My mom saw him and just thought he was the cutest little hedgehog and asked what I wanted to do with him. I told her the story, then added I didn't know exactly what I wanted to do with him.

My mom is a child psychiatrist, specializing in children with PTSD and brain damage that results in learning problems/issues with processing their emotions. She asked if she could have the plushy hedgehog (even offered to pay me for him, she didn't expect me to just give him over), so kids could hug him when they were upset in session.

Murphy, the plushy hedgehog that still slumps a little to the left when seated, has been hugged by hundreds of kids. Little girls have held him tight while explaining about bullies, little boys have held him tight while crying over their panic attacks, younger siblings have held him to whisper secrets while elder siblings and parents talk about self-soothing techniques, teenagers have hugged Murphy while talking about the worst day of their lives. Murphy has also been hugged by kids excitedly chatting about a new friend at school, a teen girl excited to be called by her name instead of her dead-name, little kids proudly saying they've mastered their ABCs, and even staff members who just need to come chat over a case they are having trouble with.

Every now and then, my mom brings Murphy home for a weekend. He gets washed (she calls it a Spa Weekend, to her coworkers, all of them laughing), dried, and sits outside with my mom in the sunshine to get aired out, then on Monday, they are back to work. Some kids even just ask to hold Murphy while they talk, no matter their mood or what they want to talk about. They just want to hug Murphy.

So yes. Plushies are made for one purpose. To be hugged and loved. To be a comfort.