I’ve been bad with updating for a while and will continue to be until April. To be honest, work and school have been taking most of my time. However, I though of a few things to add up to the novel and wrote them down. I beleive this will be quite good for consistency.
I will keep you guys briefed at this time. School first, fun later…. Okay, I can get lazy sometimes… But it’s how it should be 
.
As you can see, two more chapters for my novel have been added. It was quite an experience to write those, actually, and I wanted to update them together since they very closely followed each other.
The first part is highly political and historical in nature, but it gives an account of some of the kingdom’s history and neighbouring nations. While I did inspire a lot of this kingdom’s geopolitics off the Magna Carta in old Britain, the events that brought it forth has its differences. It is my world, after all.
The second chapter is officially my first sexually-charged scene, although much more romantic than sexual. I don’t beleive in sexual scenes in a novel when it has no bearing ont he storyline, but in a case such as this one, the scene has implications for future character development. Expect to see subtle changes in how characters interact with one another. Also, I’ve very much been focusing on Leon and Elayne so far. I am now ready to focus a bit much on the minor characters in the upcoming few chapters. Expect to see some of them too.
I was quite embarassed writing the love-making scene, but it was an amusing experience, andI’ve grown to like my characters more. after that actually. Especially Elayne, which has gotten less one-dimensional. It was calculated though, since she was supposed to surprise the readers in this scene. Hopefully, it caused the desired effect.
Well pals, following this foxy update, I’ve got studying to do, and don’t expect the next chapter right away. However, I will work on it on free time.
Good reading!
I didn’t not know how long we sat there, mute. I had never always avoided being alone with a woman; it scared the living hell out of me. I just didn’t know what to do with them. I’m not used to being around them and the other guys would think I was uncanny for not spending any of my money on whores or never “taking my share” of young, helpless female prisoners—I don’t feel it’s necessary to describe that. Elayne had been the first woman I had exchanged several sentences with. Most of my other interactions with women were brief answers or barely audible mumblings. I’d never take any initiative to speak to them. It didn’t really interest me, and avoiding them was easiest. Why would I need a woman anyways? I can wash my own clothes, make my own food, and it would just nag me when I came back home. She would have been dissatisfied with her life, living with thugs all day long. For some reason, I couldn’t get myself to make love to a woman without actually loving her. To me, it didn’t seem all that appealing to use coercion for that. How was it fun to use a crying, traumatized woman’s body for one’s own pleasure? The men around me did it. Knights also did during war, apparently. Maybe I didn’t care for it because I never experienced it. Perhaps if I had happened to do it once, I would want to do it again. I couldn’t miss something I had never experienced. I was curious, but didn’t see how this physical ritual was at all enjoyable.
On the emotional level, I would always fend for myself. There was no one I would trust, no one I would really care about, except maybe for the boss. Hell, I didn’t even care about myself. People died; material goods were taken from you; nothing could be taken for granted. I wasn’t ready to rely on another human being, only to be double-crossed. It was also impossible for me to find a companion, given my low-life status. Women, to me, were a nuisance more than anything. I’d have to feed her, spend time with her; and it would get worse if she’d bear me a child. I did not have such time food, or money. Women were not within my reach; and were unknown mysterious creatures.
I had never been alone with a woman before I met Elayne. I spent much time studying under her care, and those times were very trying for me, although much less than it usually was with other women. I had gotten somehow accustomed to her, and she became part of my routine. However, I had never thought too much about being alone in her room. I was there to study in a calm environment, and that was all. However, sitting on her bed like this, my body felt restless; so did my cheeks, my hearts, my… huh… no, I can’t write that one down. I tried mentally telling myself to pay no attention to it, but the more you forcefully try to push a thought away, the more you really think about it.
- “You were right Leon” The princess finally broke the silence.
- “Huh!?” I was so lost in my thoughts that I got startled “I was right in?”
- “Your assumptions from before… Would you care to listen to my tale?” There couldn’t have been any harm in it; maybe listening to her would drive the unwanted thoughts away.
- “Sure, go ahead.”
- “Do you remember a part within the previous tale where I mentioned my father traveling in an attempt to end the war by meeting with Yulia and Shaoa’s sovereigns?”
- “I remember.”
- “He went to the theocracy of Yulia’s capital first, and then to Shaoa’s empire. The story concers something that happened there.”
- “Something happened when he traveled East?”
- “My father remained sequestered in a guarded room in the emperor’s domain until the diplomatic proceedings were dealt with. It was stated that he was a guest, but he really was a prisoner who would be killed, were he to push his luck too far. As the son of wild king Oswin, who was know for his devious nature; he was originally despised. Due to these circumstances, my father needed to convince the emperor that he was a man to be trusted. They kept an eye on him and was only exposed to guards and a hand-picked interpret; a woman whom spoke our language who according to my father, had a peculiar accent, who came to inform him about the progress of the proceedings as ordered by the emperor. Pronouncing certain words was a little thorny for her, but my father managed to understand most of what she was able to say. One thing that surprised him is how women from this country; even when not coming from the elite could be educated in this manner. He took interest in observing her and asking personal questions, sometimes forgetting what he had come there for. She could speak our language, although awkwardly, could read and write in both her language and his and was quite self-sufficient, earning money for herself, being unmarried”
- “Well, that’s pretty different from here; women typically don’t work, unless it’s unpaid farm work or being a maid. But even then, the money is forwarded to the husband directly. She’s usually treated like a service provided by the husband rather than an actual employee.” And it was seemingly true; the maid who prepared my meals every morning was very loquacious and I knew everything about Martha, from her job to her younger kid’s latest piss. She’d also nag me a lot about keeping the room cleaner or not walking around the castle when I’m not properly dressed—or dressed much at all—but that has no bearing on the current discussion.
- “Of course, women were not equal in status to men and some families had more influence than others. There were lords, ruling the land, like nobles do here, and women did most of the household chores, but it was not excluded that women could work, and learn various disciplines such as calligraphy, reading, combat—even though they were not typically allowed to join the army and teaching was gender-divided. With the poor, schooling was an obligation, and even though education quality was uneven between individuals hailing from different social classes, compared to our country’s arbitrary system, it was really a sight to behold.”
- “I see, so unequal, but to a lesser extent than here.”
- “In his stay—about a month, he taught her many things, and so did she. They even became good friends despite the true nature of his stay.” That almost sounded like the two of us. I couldn’t deny that most of my progress in learning reading and historical facts were all due to her efforts.
- “A bloody month!? Does diplomacy always take so long?” And here I thought that little dinner meeting had been long.
- “They were testing him; observing him while wasting his time. They wanted to see if in a moment of frustration, he would make a diplomatic slip-up. My father remained very calm, but that is not what I wanted to tell you. You see… this woman that my father met there—the interpret—was the only woman he had ever gotten intimate with. He had promised to come back to Shaoa when things had calmed down and claim her hand”
- “They fell in love? Oh, but if she was the only one… I see… so your eyes, and that silky hair…”
- “You noticed?” She gently ran her fingers through her hair “This particular shade of black and those slanting eyes; these are features typical of Shaoans. My father did not know about it when he returned home, but the interpreter bore a child from him nine months later, and died while giving birth to a daughter”
- “That was you, wasn’t it?”
- “Yes… I was brought before my father with a letter—written by a relative of my mother. He decided to take me in, but my appearance made it very clear that I was not pure-blooded. I was not viewed very kindly and even now, I can hear mutterings of nobles calling me a bastard child. They do not deem me a worthy heir to the throne.”
- “That’s nothing but a load of hogwash! I will accept no queen other than you—” I turned at that moment, only to find myself gazing at her; flaming red cheeks and childish sitting position. “I mean… you’re doing a good job; it doesn’t matter where you came from…” Following those words, Elayne closed the distance between us, sliding her body right next to me, and as we sat next to each other, she wrapped her arms around mine and rest her head on my shoulder. The soft sensation I felt had no equal. I had never imagined I would ever have ended end in such a position with the one I so mischievously referred to as the “royal brat”. I was quite tensed up; I wanted to push her away. Yet I felt soothing warmth emanating from her body, and I wanted more. For a moment, my muscles were stiff and I sat there, paralysed by fear. I was not in control; I did not know what to do. I was completely helpless.
- “Does it not bother you…?” I wrestled with my primitive urges, barely managing to keep them bridled. My speech turned out much disorganized.
- “Eyes—I mean, your eyes was—were the first hmm… I noticed them first. I think they’re fine—I mean I like them—I don’t mean—Well I do, but…” I turned completely silent; I was panicking, and I needed to calm down. Damned her, being like that all of a sudden!
- “You like them…? I get shunned very much for them, but I am very happy to hear someone compliment me about them…” He grip tightened, and her body’s curvature became much more salient to me. This was too much for me to handle. Calming down was not an option now. Her piercing slanting eyes peered right through me. She was blushing, and it was obvious from it that she was intently daring me to look back at her. I felt trapped; a trap I was not sure if I wanted to escape from.
- “Y-yeah… and the breas—I mean the hair! You have very nice hair…” I thought I had put my foot in my mouth, but she slid her hands across my arm—a pleasant ticklish sensation—down to my hand. She then held it in hers and brought it to her hair. As she gently ran my limp, fearful hand through her hair, she leaned closer, our lips barely brushing.
- “You have my eyes… my hair… is there anything else you would like? My lips perhaps?” It was torture; the sweet kind that would render any man begging for mercy. The lips were so close; I longed for them; hypnotized. My heart had turned berserk, my body was heating up, my mind was crying out for more. At long last, her lips pressed upon mine and my first kiss was a fervent and salacious one.
I had to take some initiative, thus improvising to the best of my ability; I gently drove her lying down on her bed, ignoring the protests of my self-conscious mind. As I looked down, her corset was completely unfastened, revealing that we had crossed to road of no return. When did that happen? Had she done that during the kiss? While I was completely stunned from the sudden sight, she pulled me down from my neck and kissed me with even more vigour; moaning and to my surprise, even growling. I instinctively placed my arms wherever I could, and I felt her arms slide down my neck and move all over my body. I felt my cape slide off my shoulders, and my armour was being taken off piece by piece. Did it mean I could do the same for her? I attempted in vain to take the rest of her corset off, but the design was very intricate, and I solving this puzzle ended up in complete failure. My armour taken off, she took over the task of her own clothes and relieved; I took care the remnants of mine instead.
Soon, her bare-breasted body was pinned against mine; and on mere contact, she sighed with pleasure. As for me, I was completely disoriented, yet in incredible ecstasy.
- “Leon… It is my first time… Please be gentle…” She kissed my neck several time, one at every pause she took.
- “It’s the same for me too… I’ll try…” I sighed from the pleasurable ticklish sensation on my neck and placed my hand on her cheek. She turned to face me, and I kissed her on the lips.
- “Let us close the lights… I always wanted it to be like the traditional way…” That night, her wish was my dearest command, so we rolled to the side of the bed and I pulled the lamp’s string.
My question had been rather straightforward. Elayne knew something about me that I would seldom ever talk about and this was troublesome to me. I usually kept to myself and liked it better that way. I did not mind her knowing; rather, I minded her knowing without me telling her about it.
- “It was back at your former mercenary camp” the young lady began “Snake told me about it when he asked for a moment alone with me”.
- “What did he tell you?” I only realized too late that I hate been a little blunt, maybe a little threatening. I mentally kicked myself for my lack of subtlety. I was glad that she got used to my crude manners.
- “A bit about how you became a mercenary… how you ended up in their care. The things he told me were very difficult to hear about, even for a third party; and it happened at a moment when I though talking about it would pry open some of your recent emotional wounds. I kept quiet because I did not want to afflict you more than necessary; not before those wounds had been firmly mended… It was not my intention to hide it from you… but I did not know how to go about approaching the matter…” It was strange to detect shame in the eyes of such a proud woman. I softened my tone, and resolved myself to let her talk at her own pace.
- “I was very young back then; too young to have any recollection of that event. When I asked, no one would bloody tell me anything. They’d just change subjects and tell me I didn’t need to know about it. At first, I was frustrated, and asked again and again, but I would always get the same response. When I realized that my efforts were bound to failure, I just gave up on asking and accepted the fact that I’d never know. The fact that they wouldn’t tell me anything was enough for me to conclude that it probably wasn’t something they’d readily boast about no matter how much I’d insist; especially considering, how impulsive most of them usually are. Whatever got me into this dirty line of work had to be an equally dirty event. I don’t think I need to know either, but I’m curious. I’m not so flimsy as to be shaken so easily. If anything, it might help me establish an identity for myself.”
- “… Very well. You see… the king who preceded my father—my grandfather, spent most of his reign using up the country’s resources for military operations.”
- “Wild king Oswin, or Oswin the berserker. I’ve heard about the bloke… Though I don’t see what it’s got to do with that” And indeed, it seemed strange to start off with a history lecture.
- “My grandfather was in fact the cousin of the king of his time. He covertly plotted the assassination of all of his higher-ranked relatives in order to ascend to the throne. When the crime had finally been tied to him, it had been too late. Wild king Oswin cut his cousin down and hurled his limp body from the throne. Having already become king, the authorities were under his command; he was above law; nothing could stop his ambitions anymore. Word has it that on this grim day he sat on the blood-soaked chair and laughed like a content madman. He bedevilled all who served under him and the mere sound of his name instigated fear. He ruled with an iron fist and whatever he wished for, he would take by force. This kingdom has never known any king as whimsical as he. His first wife had been a woman he had coerced into bearing him a child. She bore him a girl, and unhappy with this result, he sent both the child and the woman to the gallows without a second thought. Once their heads had been cut off, he picked another woman he fancied and made her into his second wife—or should I say “slave with the title of queen”? She bore him a healthy male, my father, who would luckily grow to hate his own father after this woman—my grandmother took her own life due to king Oswin’s mistreatment—I will spare you the gruesome details. It was then that my father decided he would live to see his father’s death and right the wrongs he had committed. However, the wild king was never content for long. He always longed for more. He had everything this country could offer, and he believed it was about time for him to aim beyond his territory. He launched a grand-scale war against two countries at once; the western theocracy of Yulia and… the Eastern continent of Shaoa”. Elayne paused for a moment. From the way she swallowed, it seemed that the latter words had been difficult to bring forth. It was best that I let her continue so long as she had the courage to speak. I failed to realize what this had to do with me, but perhaps she was taking a long trail to get to that. My second reason for staying quiet is that I had always had the feeling that she was a withered flower—a little damaged. Our recent discussions fed my doubts and heightened them; akin to a pig getting fatter when fed with food, these late interactions had fed my doubts, which seemed more likely in proportion… Hmm… All right, perhaps this wasn’t the greatest of possible comparisons. That’s what I get from trying to be poetic. The young lady continued her speech.
- “From a strategic standpoint, here was no logic in this decision; it was complete madness. He placed our country in a pincer attack position before the battle had even begun. Yulia’s holy knights; a force to be reckoned with on its own, under the apostle, attacked from the west and the skilled eastern warriors of Shaoa, under their emperor, would attack the eastern coast. With its divided forces, all of the Berstram’s resources were used to ward off enemy invaders and the wild king knew he was going to lose if things continued as such. He hated losing above all else. That was when he created the parliament out of desperation. He scouted nobles: families with very long lineages like the Belmonts and the Theodorics, among those you know, and appealed to the them, so they would use their social prestige—for as you know, this country highly values pure bloodlines and shuns people living romance with others deemed too far away in blood and social prestige”. Tch… The later words made me cringe. Terms such as “pure-blooded” pretty much insinuated that I was filthy-blooded, and the defensive hiss had become an automated response, but I was well aware that her intention was to give me an account of the social trends of this country. It seemed that my sudden distasteful demeanour concerned her, so I encouraged her to forget about it and continue talking by paraphrasing her.
- “Oh yeah, and that’s why you’ll often see them pampered blokes getting married to their first cousins and you never see peasants marry up with blue bloods. Pretty picky bunch of incestuous loonies”. This time, I think I made her cringe, but then she smiled mischievously, as in saying “Fine, we’re even”.
- “Nobles had the responsibility to draft civilians into independent militias and help the war effort. In exchange for their influence, these families were granted several sizeable advantages such as a share of the tax money in their territory, control over land and decision-making power through vote in the parliament. This was meant to disappear after the war, but… Hmm…” She had a difficult time finding the appropriate words, so I decided to help her.
- “The king thought he had the high end of the stick, but the nobles weren’t too keen on relinquishing their powers. Therefore, their militias overpowered the kingdom’s forces—as you told me before. The last years of wild king Oswin were lived in shame and fear of opposition, if I understand right. If not, the parliament would already have been dissolved”. Her voice was a little brighter following my comment, but the change was only slightly noticeable.
- “Very sharp deduction, Leon! My father was crowned following my grandfather’s death and his first actions were to go to both the theocracy of Yulia and the eastern empire of Shaoa to negotiate peace treaties in order extinguish the flames of war his predecessor had left behind. The war ended twenty years ago… and I believe the mercenaries you worked with must have been active during the war…” She paused briefly and continued.
- “How old are you, Leon?” The question came as a surprise, but I played along.
- “I don’t know. No one told me. Is it important?”
- “You could not be younger than 20 years old, nor much older… You were but a child when your boss, Jack found you. He… Killed your parents…” She suddenly looked away from me, as if feeling ashamed. To tell the truth, I was not that affected by this story. So what if my family died like dogs? Death with dignity is an ideal that only a small portion of lucky people will attain. Most of us will die in insignificant manners.
There is nothing grandiose about death… after seeing it so many times; I’ve seen skilled warriors getting killed by stray arrows. I’ve seen the most ridiculous of accidents from very experienced workers causing their demise. I’ve seen strong men suddenly plagued by illness, crying like lost children and begging to be finished off. So the man killed my family, probably cut them down in cold blood too. I have no right to hate him, after I’ve made orphans of kids, myself, for the mere sake of getting a job done. It was probably the same to him. I never met my parents while I was old enough to recognize them; so I never loved them. It may sound cold-hearted, but I built my identity around the concept of having none… which sounds pretty paradoxical when I think about it.
- “That’s quite all right; you don’t have to look away like that. I didn’t expect it to be all glorious. Thanks for telling me. By the way: there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. You made a pretty big detour just to tell me that Jack killed my parents… … Hum…” This was one of those annoying moments when you knew what to say, but couldn’t put it into words. I was never too good with communicating, and I often found myself looking like an idiot because I wasn’t used to putting my feelings into words… or talking to people for long periods of time either, for that matter. Finally, I remembered, awkwardly scratching the back of my head. Something I’d always do when I’m embarrassed “I mean—you could have sparred me all of this details—not that it wasn’t interesting; I learned something new—but I got a guess there’s more to that story… something relevant to you. Your voice was uneven, and you hesitated at some points in the story. Your eyes also avoided mine, and you usually look straight at me when you talk. Also, your hands are restless; you do that when you’re stressed or impatient, but I’d think stress would be the more appropriate deduction… anyways, what I mean is that you answered my questions, and it would be fair trade if I paid attention if you’ve got something to tell.”
The princess seemed surprised with my intervention; she retreated to sitting against the back of her bed, holding her knees up against her chest, arms folded around her legs. This shy childlike position was very much unlike her tomboyish tendencies… but very endearing, nonetheless.
- “You’ve been standing here for a long time… and it will be easier to talk if you sit next to me.” If I had to name the moment in which my face had been most red, it would have been this one. I sat next to her, keeping a bit of distance and looked straight ahead, not daring to move my eyes away from the wall.
I was asked to work on a project for my child development class, which I,m supposed to hand in in three days. The topic I chose was “How to create a maladjusted child, given that I had to power to do as I see fit with it.”. Of course, I took guilty pleasure in harming the poor thing, psychologically and physically. Of course, I’ll say it right now…. DON’T DO THAT!
Anyhow, the limit was four pages, and this was quite limited. One could write books on how to make someone’s life hell. Anyhow, I’ll just state that this paper was to be handed in at Concordia on November 25th in Sandra Hessel’s class. Why? Because I don’t want her to stumble upon my blog and thing I plagiarized. Anyways, have fun:
The parental background in this scenario is a young woman with no means of taking care of a child. At 18, her boyfriend comes to her home stoned and coerces her into having sexual intercourse. In the end, she ends up being pregnant and decides to keep the child she resents (named Steve) because she’s living with the illusion that her failure of a boyfriend will change. She is suffering from depression and feeling helpless, began taking various drugs in search for stimulation. Incidentally, instead of changing him, she became like her boyfriend.
To create a maladjusted individual, one could begin even before birth. Steve’s mother and the father use several drugs during pregnancy. Use of drugs as a whole could increase the chances of prematurity, low birth weight, physical defects, breathing difficulties and possibly death (However, we will assume the child survives through everything, which is quite unlikely) Cocaine could cause deformities at the level of the eyes, bones, genitals, urinary tract, kidneys and the heart as well as haemorrhages and seizures, severe growth retardation (Berk, 2007), higher arousal, poor self-regulation, over-reactivity, excitability as well as distractibility and a higher incidence of ADHD, no to mention withdrawal symptoms (Weiss et al., 2007). Heroin or other opiates could also be consumed, demonstrated to be correlated with higher stress reactivity, impulsivity and arousal, and being harder to console and attention problems (Weiss et al., 2007). Marijuana consumption could also correlate with a more fearful child which is less socially-oriented, attention deficits and impulsivity. Tobacco would also be used, which is also correlated with ADHD and more incidences of conduct disorder behaviour (Disney, 2001). Finally, the parents are both seasoned alcoholics, which means the mother (as well as the father) commonly drink and the alcohol her body passes through the blood-brain-brain barrier in an unhindered fashion, arresting brain growth by interfering with neuronal migration and production in primitive neural tubes and by using up a large amount of oxygen that should otherwise belong to the child since the body needs it to metabolize alcohol. In turn, there is a chance that foetal alcohol syndrome; characterized by impaired motor coordination, attention and language, as well as mental retardation, and over activity. Other problems include slow physical growth and facial abnormalities as well as other possible defects (Berk, 2007). Wedding et al. (2007) add neurodevelopment disorders and learning disabilities to the already exhaustive list with the possibility of foetal alcohol spectrum disorders. It also seems that drinking during pregnancy increases may very well increase the chances for the development of conduct disorder, a finding which was not outweighed by alcoholism in the family as a factor. Foetal alcohol syndrome was also observed to share characteristics with conduct disorder, giving another means of support. Not to mention that in rats, it was found that their serotonin levels were lowered, which may or may not apply to Steve, but is a risk, nonetheless (Disney, 2001). In theory, Steve survived it all, but in practice, the chances of survival of such prenatal exposures would be low.
Also, the home environment could impact on the Steve’s adjustment as well as his future attachment style. The parents could fight often in front of the child, which could contribute in fostering social and parental violence. In this example, the mother comes back home drunk and beats on her dependant, undependable husband to make him comply; which in turn, teaches Steve that violence pays off, or in other words, that instrumental aggression can be an efficient means to an end (Friend, 2006). The child could also be put in front of the television, unmonitored, watching programs that could potentially be quite violent. Witnessing social violence (For example, seeing a protagonist use violent means in a T.V. show) would increase the chances that the child develops conduct disorder, which occurs before the development of antisocial personality disorder, while witnessing parental violence would increase the chances that the child would also engage in spouse abuse (Hill & Nathan, 2008).
Furthermore, the parents could use corporal punishment on the Steve, such as spanking, or more extreme measures when they are fed up with it, and one of the parents or relatives, let’s say, dirty Uncle Tom, would come once in a while and sexually abuses Steve. Both events are positively correlated with heightened rates of major depression, anxiety disorders, conduct disorder (which in turn can become antisocial personality disorder), substance dependence, and suicidal ideations and behaviour. The health outcome following such trauma is often very grim when measured in adolescence, early adulthood, and probably beyond (Fergusson et al., 2008).
To make matters worse, both parents are carriers of a recessive disorder, Phenylketonuria, which the infant Steve would have at birth. Because he will not be capable of breaking phenylalanine (an amino acid) into its byproduct, tyrosine, which is essential for bodily functions, phenylalanine will build up if food containing it is ingested instead of breaking down, which will eventually, but soon enough cause a toxic reaction and damage the central nervous system. This damage will result in permanent mental retardation of the child (Berk, 2007). If found by the physician, common logic would dictate that the child should be put on a very severe (since most foods contains phenylalanine) and consistent phenylalanine-free diet, but the parents could care less about Steve’s nutrition. In other words, the degeneration is pretty much inevitable.
Of course, this malnourishment was no different when he was a foetus. The inadequate diet of the mother who could not afford for much quality food has a pretty good chance of making the child small-for-date, meaning that the birth weight could be below the tenth percentile for its age. Typically, malnourished Steve is likely to score lower than most children in ponderal index (the relationship between height and mass of a baby, or if preferred, its leanness). This can result in deficits in basic reflexes and response, stimulation and social interactions as well as acoustic and temporal deviations. This results in a child who is unresponsive, irritable, apathetic and easily overwhelmed by stimulation. IQ is also generally lower as well as poor performance on intellectual tasks and the need for special education, which is reflected in lower results in the Mental Development Index and the Standford-Binet Intelligence test, but the cognitive limitations may be more related to the low socioeconomic status, which is the case anyways for Steve. (Zeskind & Ramey, 1978). Support in these deficits is found in Berk’s (2007) textbook in which there is also mention of lower brain weight and distortion of the liver, kidneys and pancreas, as well as suppression of development of the immune system and commonness of respiratory illnesses.
Bibliography:
Berk, L. T. (2007). Development through the lifespan (4th ed.). Publisher. Boston:
Illinois State University.
Weiss, S. J., Jonn-Seed, M. St., Harris-Muchell, C. (2002). The contribution of fetal
drug exposure to temperament: potential teratogenic effects on
Neuropsychiatric Risk. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 48(8), 773-784.
Disney, E. R. (1983). The impact of prenatal alcohol or tobacco exposure on later
ADHD or CD in offspring. University of Minnesota.
Wedding, D., Mengel, M. B., Ulione, M., Cook, K. Kohout, J., Ohlemiller, M., et al.
(2007). Psychologists’ knowledge and attitudes about fetal alcohol syndrome,
fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, and alcohol use during pregnancy. Professional Psychology: Research Practices, 38(2), 208-213.
Friend, J. A. (2006). From childhood instrumental aggression to adult antisocial
personality disorder: A phenomenological inquiry. Chicago School of Professional Psychology.
Hill, J., Nathan, R. (2008). Childhood antecedents of serious violence in adult male
offenders. Aggressive Behavior, 34, 893-896.
Ferguson, D. M., Boden, J. M., Horwood, L. J. (2008). Exposure to childhood sexual and
physical abuse and adjustment in early adulthood. Child Abuse & Neglect, 32, 607-619.
Zeskind, P. S. & Ramey, C. T. (1978). Fetal malnutrition: An experimental study of its
consequences on infant development in two caregiving environments. Child Development, 49, 1155-1162.
A major update has been added to my novel.
Chapters I, IV, VI, IX, X, XI have undergone changes.
Also, three new chapters have been added: XVII, XVIII and XIX.
There is not much else going on in my life except for studying and working on projects. You can expect a new chapter by the end of the very short winter break.
I’ve also found a nice concept for a Sci-Fi novel, which I’ll probably write up when I’m done with this one. I’ll make sure I write down the ideas as they come by.
See you again.
The parliament was held in the dining hall, mostly because the tables were long and the room, meant for meeting dinners and festivities. On the long edges of the table, sat the Barons and at the extremity, sat the king and his daughter. I sat to her left, Wilson, Clive and Harry also on the same side. Other retainers sat on the king’s right. It was likely to be his personal guards, but I think one of them was the chancellor. The seats filled and the king called for the start of the banquet. Everyone ate and much chatter could be heard about sophisticated-sounding things I eyed at my plate and cup and experimented with their contents. After eying the plate, I asked Elayne for help.
“Oh, that is grilled quail with sesame and ginger, nothing too fancy”. Well, it was fancy enough that I didn’t know what ginger, sesame and quail were. I looked around and noticed everyone using intricate tool to bring the food to their mouths. Did that mean I couldn’t just use my hands? I reached for one of the three miniature pitchfork-like items and tried to imitate Wilson’s behaviour as he was talking to Clive and I… while I admittedly, was half-listening. As I tried to thrust the tool into the quail’s flesh, I felt a soft kick form under the table.
- “This is the salad fork” Elayne whispered “Take the rightmost one.”
Why a different fork for different types of food? They all were shaped similarly and all had the same purpose. And why couldn’t I just use my hands? This was a blatant waste of time. After tasting the meat, I realized something; it was warm. Back at the camp, the only warm food I had ever eaten was over roasted on campfire and that was only when we had meat—barely ever. Sometimes, we ate it raw, but we’d often get sick from it, and tried to cook it if possible. The quail wasn’t bad, but a little dry, so I reached for the cup with the strange dark liquid. After burning my hand and cursing under my breath I took hold of the little handle on the side like every one else and took a sip. It was extremely bitter. Horrible! What was that, horse piss!?
- “Is the tea too strong for you, Leon” The princess took a sip from hers, and from the looks on her face; she didn’t seem to find it bitter at all. I took another sip and winced again
- “What is that anyways?” Wilson responded for her.
- “Oh, that’s tea. It’s a little bitter, but you’ll end up getting used to it”. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get used to drinking that. Nevertheless, Elayne was smiling with much mischief, observing my clumsy lack of table etiquette. Seems there was a naughty side to her.
The dinner ended when most individuals had left their utensils on their plates and talked to one another. Clive, Wilson and I exchanged a few words… most of them coming from Wilson’s mouth and Hormus was talking to various noblemen about topics as incredibly captivating as the weather. After greeting the many members of the parliament, the king sat back on his chair and began his opening speech.
- “Everyone, I welcome you within these humble walls for another monthly parliamentary meeting. I believe that on today’s planning we were to discuss the new division of lands, but before we begin I would like to let a few more individuals join us.” The guard opened the dining hall’s doors and peasants, hundreds of them walked in, and sat at not-so-distant tables.
- “Is this a joke!?” the barons did not seem very happy and one of them, sitting at our end of the table bearing a bushy moustache slammed his fist on the table “This is a parliamentary meeting! Peasants have no business here!”
- “Peasants?” said the king “Oh please, this is my castle, these are my guests. There is no need to damage the furniture, baron Watson”
- “This is a political debate! There are serious matters at hand to discuss here, your majesty, too complex for the common folk to comprehend!
- “It is because those matters are serious that the residents of this kingdom should be informed. Besides, I do not see you objecting to the presence of my maids—commoners. In the end, while there is a rule prohibiting their participation at the parliament, there is no clear rule indicating that commoners cannot assist to the debates.” Another man, very tall and lean, prince-like figure with long, blond hair who has been fiddling with a silvery pocket watch the entire time, spoke up, not even looking at his interlocutor.
- “King Charles, with all due respect, you have been testing our patience as of late. I, like most of us here, am living on a very tight schedule and your silly games do not amuse me.” The man puts his watch back in his pocket and looks at the king with the most condescending eyes I had ever seen. They had a threatening feel to them. “You would do best to remember where you stand or you and your lineage may meet an abrupt end… Did I make myself clear?” Did he just threaten the royal family!?
- “Duke Theodoric, this is my castle, my rules. You may be ruling all of the barons or the Southwest territory, but my rank outmatches yours. Also, I would like to remind you that my daughter has been found held into custody in your territory. It would be best for you to wait for investigations to be over before you make any demands” The man hissed and spoke again.
- “And you have yet to prove to the inquisition that I was implicated. You should treat me with more respect; being the highest-ranking nobleman in this kingdom, I am after all, the heir to the throne and the one who will marry your bastard daughter.” Following this statement, my voice echoed through the room, clear and unrestrained.
- “Do you want me to kick your arse…?” all eyes turned toward me, but at the moment, I did not feel the least bit self-conscious.
- “Oh?” the target of my aggression responded “have I done anything to set off your mood, good sir knight?”
- “What kind of man threatens a woman and then claims right to her hand?”
- “This is nobility! Superior beings breed amongst each other to form a superior race! Since a woman cannot legally rule this country, she will be forced to marry into another family.” His demeanour as a whole made me angry. His pretence that being a noble made him superior to commoners was a line of thinking that was quite spread all around the kingdom. The mastery of magic was used as a tool of social control, which explains the magic prohibition law. The ability to kill at a safe distance was something to fear. However, I was the living proof that magic was something we learn, that this ability had nothing to do with noble blood.
- “Sir Leon! That is more than enough! If you continue, I will be forced to sanction you!” My squad leader had gotten up from his seat and his right hand was already at his sword’s hilt.
- “You mind your own business, Hilde, this is between he and I!” I had also bounced off from my chair and was ready to unleash my two blades.
- “My name is Howard, how many times must I tell you, commoner filth!?” My grip on my two blades tightened; I would not let go of them until he did.
- “Commoner?” the voice of Duke Theodoric echoed across the room, making us lower our guard “You sir, from what family are you?” He was referring to me.
- “I don’t have a family, got a problem with that?” Cries of scandal roared a cross the room, most demanding to know how am man like me could be a knight. Elayne got up.
- “The only reason he does not have a family name is because he’s a war orphan! He was knighted for an act of heroism!” Wilson also got up.
- “I’m also a commoner, and I will stand by my friend. Thanks to the princess’ generosity, I’m able to send money to my family and support my crippled father. I agree with Leon’s contention that words like “bastard” do not fit her majesty. Leon was merely brave enough to say what all of us thought in silence.” Was he insane!? There was no reason for him to get in trouble too! Duke Theodoric spoke again.
- “How many more commoners are employed as knights in this castle!? King, you will tell me!” The king thinks for a moments.
- “I would have to say about half of them; did I not tell you? You may keep your current possessions, but the lands, I will reclaim. The people need not pay war taxes when we are currently at peace, especially considering this tax is now merely here for your own leisure. You, sirs, can work like everyone else.” Again, complaints continued, but at least, they stopped staring at me. After much chaotic debating, Duke Theodoric got and walked out of the room, stopping only to say “You ought to watch your back, your majesty…” Finally, the blond man had left, and the barons left one by one.
The peasants were quiet as always, but seemed quite troubled by what they just heard. However, I believe I understood the king’s scheme. He wanted the message to spread. He wanted the kingdom to know that the rule of the barons was over, to create an uprising. It was quite daring, indeed, but he did sound like a man who was out of alternatives. He was growing older, his daughter could not legally rule the kingdom all by herself, and something told me he wanted to get things done quickly to avoid having his daughter inheriting an unstable kingdom. He was a father after all. The princess asked me to meet her to continue our private lesson, and I answered “Yes, I’ll be right there Elayne, just give me a moment” Outside, my squad waited for me, and Wilson waved at me with his usual carefree smile, which he had momentarily lost during the parliamentary meeting.
- “Hey Wilson, thanks, but don’t do something like that again. You could have gotten into loads if trouble because of me.” He pated my shoulder, which annoyed me a little, but I thought I could do an exception and let him do it just this once.
- “You’re a little slow to warm up, but you’re a good person. I’ll get into trouble if it means I get to stand with someone who’s doing the right thing. Oh, and by the way, for a moment there, I thought that I saw the princess smile when you defended her.” As I was going to respond to Wilson, Horatio grabbed my collar and drove me into the wall.
- “Speaking of the princess, why are you not using titles to refer to each other?” The man was taller, and also, had more physical strength. I merely stood there and grinned at him.
- “What, you heard us just now? Haven’t mommy and daddy told you that eavesdropping wasn’t a nice habit?” The man seemed angry, he wanted to see me scared, he wanted me to beg for mercy. He would never get that out of me.
- “Don’t be so conceited. You were seen going in and out of her room as well, spending much time with her. What are planning?” It seemed he got the wrong idea of me, but I wanted to get him angrier.
- “Sex, lots of it. She just can’t get enough of me.” The man tightened his grip, but I wouldn’t let up so easily.
- “Stop that, Howard” Clive’s tall and large figure towered over us. “The kid’s getting lessons from her majesty so he can read better. That and they’re friends. I don’t think that’s much of a crime. Strangling a fellow knight however, is.” Hengist’s grip reluctantly softened and he took a few steps back. Not saying a word. I walked away, hearing him call back to me.
- “What are you off to do now!?” Without even turning around, I shout in the halls for all to hear.
- “Get some sex, of course!” I did not see Hilderinc’s reaction, but I was going to ask Wilson about it later. I winked at the maid, as I was walking, who had been blushing with complete embarrassment at my latest words. Like promised, I walked to Elayne’s room and knocked at her door. Telling me to come in, I oblige. As I entered, I asked a question that had been on my mind since this little incident
- “Elayne, who told you I was a war orphan?”
The studying was as usual simply both of us in the princess’ room—and I made sure I told my unit leader, Horus, about this particular fact. I love to see the bloke cringe in jealousy. The good thing about the intensive training was that the time I spend with my unit was rather limited; therefore, Horus had little opportunity to annoy me. On the other hand, Wilson had spent much time talking—what he does best—to me during my breaks. I hated to admit it, but his company stopped bothering me after a while. Clive was also someone to keep friendly with. While he was around, our squad leader would be a little less disagreeable to me—apparently because Clive has enough authority to file a martial court complaint for military abuse, even if—is his name really Horus?—was his direct superior officer. I didn’t train directly under Clive per say, but at times; he’d watch my training with the weapon’s master and give me additional advice. Even though he was a bit of a lushington at times, he generally was wiser than he looked.
Studying with the princess became increasingly difficult. The proximity made me feel self-conscious and to have her watch over my shoulder as I sat as her work desk made it so that our bodies would sometimes connect. I could feel her hair; tickling my neck and the warmth of her breath. I had grown accustomed to her fruity scent—could recognize her perfume at a moment’s notice. My mind filled itself with forbidden fantasies, thoughts that I could not chase away. I could feel my heart violently pounding, my skin become feverishly flushed. This nervous response I believed was only caused by the fact that she was a woman and I a man—that it was an inevitable response to close physical contact between members of the opposite sex—or at least, I hoped it was. Nevertheless, those feelings were both precarious and otiose; we hailed from different worlds completely. She was a princess, and I a former thug. There could be no love between an elite member of a noble family and a bastard dog. Whatever it was, those thoughts had to be inhibited. Easier said than done… and to think that back then, I had no idea what “otiose” meant; though the noblemen’s jargon was seeping into my vocabulary from common exposure—anyhow, back to the story at hand.
The study session ended and she told me to escort her to the dining room. My “favourite” squad leader was waiting at the door.
- “Fair Elayne! I’ve come to escort you to the dining hall.” While he was talking to the young lady, his eyes were focused on me; a murderous glance. The princess seemed troubled by his presence.
- “I can take care of this, Henry; why not go ahead and tell everyone we will arrive shortly?” the man’s eyes widened and I could feel his restraint.
- “My name is Howard, Sir Kinsley for you, rookie. As the commander of the princess guard, it is my duty to ensure our fair beauty’s safety no matter where she is.” A politely hostile argument; so that really was how nobles argued: Euphemisms and metaphors.
- “Sir Leon brings a valid point Sir Kinsley, would you kindly inform my father of my upcoming arrival? We are within safe walls; Sir Leon will be sufficient protection.” I thought I saw the man cringe for a moment, but he ended up bowing to her.
- “Yes your highness.” The turned away and left without a word.
- “Got him trained like a lapdog, huh?” It was my clumsy attempt to lighten up my own mood.
- “Thank you, to be honest, his presence sometimes tests my patience. He courts me continuously but I am aware that his feelings are more of ambitions than care. I know I have no right to deem myself unfortunate, but most individuals who court me are just like Sir Kinsley. They want the social status that comes with me. I… am merely a condition to be met. It is ludicrous to feel blue over such benign matters, I am aware of this fact…” I believe I could understand her emotion… I felt it too, under different circumstances. A while ago, if you had asked me if nobles could feel, I would have said they were devoid or any signs of empathy, but this woman had been kind to be thus far—certainly not a heartless person; annoying as I sometimes thoughts she was.
- “How is it ludicrous? The manner of relevance here is not whether you deserve to be happy or sad; it’s whether you feel happy or sad. If emotions were so simple and controllable, I wouldn’t—” Instant silence.
- “You wouldn’t…?” The princess inquired.
- “I… Listen, what I meant to say is that whether you ought to feel blue or not is not a relevant question; the question we ought to address is what can we do about it?” She was pensive, tried to be as composed as she could, but her discomfort was obvious from the way she nibbled her lips.
- ”I do not know… most of the interactions I experience are very formal, devoid of sincerity…” Her gaze did not meet with mine and her arms folded as she spoke. She was closing up.
- “Then after this meeting, let’s have a chat. You need someone to talk to and I’ve got nothing better to do.” I had no idea why I was so intent on improving her mood, but I had reacted on impulse during the entire discussion—despite my usual cautious nature.
- “Sir Leon—“ I interrupted the young lady in the middle of her sentence.
- “Just call me Leon; let’s talk man to man…. Err… man to woman; no formalities.” I said that, but calling her by her first name could be interpreted as a sign of disrespect for all I knew.
- “Si—Leon, I accept your offer, you… may also use my first name”. The woman’s arms unfolded slowly and he hand extended toward me. A small moment of hesitation, and I clasp my hand onto her.
- “Then I will… Elayne.”
- “Wake up, pantywaist! Time to get sweaty!” I reached for my pillow and tried as best as I could to block my ears, but it was to no avail. The man barged in and my pillow was yanked off my hands. Days passed since I got my new toys and as promised, the princess made booked me for intensive training with the weapon’s master. The man was in his early fifties, greying hair and a lot of energy to dispense… enough energy to wake me up early in the morning for bloody training. I yawned and stared at him; very annoyed so.
- “What’s up, dolly; didn’t get enough beauty sleep last night?” What was with him getting on my arse so early in the morning? The guy says provoking people brings up their fighting spirit, or something to that extent, but I’ve been around him so often these past few weeks that I’ve gotten so weary from it that I didn’t have the will to get angry anymore. I yawned again and rolled my eyes as I spoke.
- “Keep on talking, I yawn when I’m interested.” I walked out of bed, wobbly so, getting dressed and thinking about buying door locket sometimes during the week.
- “Come; get your virgin arse out here! The princess requested I train you and that is what I intend to do!” I growled and finished dressing up. I reached for my training waster—a wooden replica of a long sword and motioned that I was ready. The weapon’s master threw another shorter waster into my hands.
- “Take it, I’ll explain as we get to the training grounds.” And so we walked there.
There were two training areas in the castle. One was on the first floor of the castle; a spacious nearly empty room meant to be used when the weather could not permit training outside. When the weather was good enough, we would train in the castle courtyard; an area delimited by a strong wooden fence—almost like a cage. Again, it was wide and devoid of anything but grass.
- “Now tell me, why the short waster? I’ve trained with a long sword up until now and I feel I’ve gotten the hang of handling it”. The grey-haired man poked my chest with his long waster and made me fall over.
- “And you’ll still use it, but I did notice you also bought an arming sword. Short weapons are very useful for very close combat, so I understand what you were thinking. Originally, I was going to train you with each single blade separately, but I thought I’d try something new. Are you familiar with the combat styles of the east?” I remember having heard of them but I didn’t remember any specifics. I kept quiet and he continued talking.
- “I fought in the East before in command of an invasion unit under the former king. The indigenes were under-armoured like you and without that burden; they fought at near demonic speed. During our first assault, we were overconfident and got pushed back. Even scrawny-looking men were threats to behold. They generally lacked shields, but I noticed a lot of them used two blades; one long and one short. They could alternate between all out offensive or use one of the blades for defence while the other one was used for attacking purposes. This combat style always struck me as interesting and I still remember their signature stance to this day. I thought it would be interesting to give that combat style a chance.” So the man would try to teach me a combat technique he himself had never mastered. In other words, I was a guinea pig.
- “How do I go about learning a technique with no proper basis for training? And these guys, if I remember correctly, use curved blades.” Rumours of these weapons gathered everywhere while the kingdom was attempting to conquer new lands to expand the kingdom’s dominion in the prior king’s reign. Hell, some military officer brought some of those weapons back with them. Now that I though about it, It hadn’t been very long since that war ended. The king was really old; over seventy years old until his death of old age brought an end to the hostilities. The current king was already getting old nineteen years ago; when he took the place of his father—who apparently did not agree much with the policies of his father considering he called the entirety of his troops back and demanded a peace treaty. A lot of wars occurred under his rule, but rumours state that the barons got pretty rich from the pillaging of lots of materials like silk and some types of metals and jewellery—while many men died for that. Now that I thought of it… perhaps Berstram’s period of war-mongering was issued by popular parliamentary vote. If the princess was right, then if you add all the facts together; Charles 1st had a pretty defying stance against the parliament. My trail of thought was interrupted briefly by the thunderous voice of the weapons master.
- “We’ll do it the same way you mercenaries always do—learn from experience. Take both wasters in hand and try it out.”
I was not going to argue with a superior officer’s advice; considering that even though the training was harsh and bothersome, I had made up my mind about getting stronger. Besides, the sooner I beat him, the sooner I get to wash that smirk off his bloody face. He raised his two-handed long sword-shaped waster and prepared to parry my attacks.
I charged toward him, slashing outward with the long sword using my left arm, only to get blocked. I take this moment to spin on my foot and do a spin slash with as much velocity as possible. My opponent blocked but the impact forced him to step back. He counterattacks, swinging his blade at my side. I barely block it with the long sword but his fist flies at me, only to stop at a few inches from my face.
- “Too Naïve!” He flicked his finger on my forehead “Use your other blade; I know it doesn’t feel natural but just do it.” The man backed up and I our sparring session continued for a while—I couldn’t recall how long it had been, but these sessions usually lasted about an hour each. I also lost count of how many times I fell and kissed the earth. She and I got pretty intimate. Finally, I get up and I try a rising slash, which gets parried. I then quickly slash toward his opposite side with the arming sword which he barely blocks with his hilt. Finally, I bring the risen long sword down and it connects to his shoulder with a painful-sounding “thud!”.
- “You let me hit you… Why?” The man could have dodged to the left side, but he didn’t—or at least, he certainly had the skill and combat experience to do so.
- “Look behind you.” I turned around and I saw petite figure of the princess, escorted by Wilson, who was standing at the entrance of the training grounds.
- “Very well played, Sir Leon, you’ve much improved!” I looked up to the old man who winked at me and grinned
- “Well met, your highness, we were just finishing up.” He then turned toward me with the same eerie smile “she’s about your age, isn’t she?” Before I could fully decipher his insinuations, the woman called to me.
- “Sir Bristow told me that he saw you up and about with the weapon’s master, so I came to fetch you for your reading lessons.” I never get a moment of peace, do I?
- “I just got battered with a wooden stick, could I get a break?” Apparently, no.
- “I’m sorry, but no, we have to attend a parliament meeting afterwards, so we are a little short on time.” I resigned myself and followed her back to the castle and into her quarters. Parliamentary meeting huh? That sure ought to be boring.
“I suffered, so I can’t trust people”. I certainly heard this one a lot. Sometimes, it was a jerk that put the girl in an abusive relationship, and then she ends up thinking I’m just as much of a jerk as he is, sometimes it’s someone who has had difficult family relationships, and I get to pay because her parents treated her with too much discipline. Problem isI’m writing with a touch of frustration, a touch a cynicism.
People lie, people cheat, people hurt, it happens all of the time. I too have been betrayed, and I too have long thought like that. Trust is not an easy thing to regain when it has been lost, especially if this mistrust is against the human race in general… no to mention that the human race isn’t doing much to redeem itself often times.
However, the human race is made up of individuals, which you can pretty much plot on a normal distribution range. There are those conventional fools that make up for the majority of human race, there are those that are extreme in mistrust worthiness and there are also those in the better extreme, the ones we can trust. No person is without fault, no person is consistently unselfish, but a select few try hard to be well-intended.
Trust is something you earn, but one should likely keep in mind that it should be earnable. In other words, withholding trust to an extreme makes it impossible to make new positive encounters and interactions. I am not one to trust readily, but I’m one to give a chance.
When I meet someone who thinks he or she is mistrusting in nature, I can only disagree. Trust and mistrust is embedded in learning, operant conditioned from many negative encounters. Then, black and white thinking occurs and the individuals begins to rate the world as a hostile place. You begin to think that those that are very close to you at the moment are the good, trustworthy people, and you close up, soon shutting away your social needs. When those people you trust are away, you feel lonely, and while you begin to live your social life through proxies, such as television, literary or digital protagonists you identify with. Your need for social warmth and intimacy still is there, it’s just being largely repressed. You occupy yourself, you do lots of activities, stimulate yourself, but there is never a true feeling of satisfaction, merely temporary relief.
But in the end, intimacy is a human need, associated with heightened mood, lower instances of mental disorders and intellectual development even through adult age. It is also associated with general life success. Intimacy is a certain form of commitment, but differs very little from actual friendship. When getting intimate, you want to see your close friend/partner fulfilled intellectually, emotionally and professionally. In other words, it’s just a feeling of wanting to make someone happy. You want your friends to be happy, same applies here.
However, some people fear intimacy. The lay-person would say it’s because the person understands how big a deal commitment is, but psychologically speaking, fear of commitment is rarely a controlled response and does not have any positive effect on well being.
These are the feelings generally hoped to be avoided when fearing intimacy:
Sadly, intimacy is not something that builds overnight and requires maintained conscious effort. Fear of intimacy is generally preserved by avoidance of it. A fear is a learned response, and extinction of this learning cannot occur without exposure to the feared stimuli. This applies to all fears. When exposed to intimacy that is rewarding, which required getting used to, someone will most certainly see improvements in him or herself. Unless schizoid, there is not way a given person would not feel a degree of loneliness without intimate relationship. It is one of mankind’s primary needs.
—
I’ve consulted a mental health professional today, not for this problem, mind you, but for my prolonged bad mood. I had been feeling relatively well of late, but that was because I had begun feeling positive about meeting an intimacy need. However, dysthymia is a fairly constant disorder, and generally doesn’t leave easily. One with this disorder also typically falls back into it when highly stressful events occur (I’ll miss these ups in my mood swings; I never felt so strong and competent). I did feel like I regressed in my healing progress from taking this too harshly, and I became pretty miserable from constant rumination of the recent events.
I don’t feel any shame in consulting a psychologist. I feel that my suicidal ideations are getting in the way of my studies and I’m doing something about it. The session lasted or an hour and it was mostly assessment though. He confirmed my dysthymia diagnosis but also asked me to wait two more weeks before he can decided it its double depression. That’s the DSM cut-off. He also wants the event to be further behind us before making a subsequent final diagnosis. He stated the few treatments available, but hearing I didn’t want medication, he asked me to come back two more session, where we could do Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. School psychologist, free, I’ll take it.
For some reason, my appetite lowered quite a bit, but I’m eating fine. I just need to force it down my throat. I can’t concentrate a lot, and I the thoughts are highly debilitating. I got a little lazy on my sanitary care, so I and now forcing myself into doing the necessary things. I also write a lot I occupy my mind constantly. I’d rather not stop to think. I almost never sleep at night, or rather, I spend my days lounging around, but not being able to rest properly. Everything just feels like it takes monumental effort to get done. A few days before, I just needed to talk to this girl, and I’d get the energy to work out a 12 pages project in a day. I admit I’m a bit irritable, and I’m back to my old self, again. I’ve lost interest in most things, and I’m quite unmotivated. I’m empty. I don,t have any other means of support, critical parents who tell me what I should think instead of listening, friends who think that drawing me picture will make it all better… I want to end it, but the methods coming up to my mind are a little too radical. I don’t want to live with these feelings anymore. I might go for the radical way if it doesn’t get better in the future…
