What doesn't kill you adds humor points.
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What doesn't kill you adds humor points.
that post that said something like people surviving horrible things aren't probably aren't going to have ways of coping that look "good" to others straight up changed my life.
like if someone's lost in the woods, you don't really expect them to cook a meal that's good & healthy for them, let alone something gourmet. you wouldn't chastise them for scavenging for berries or eating raw meat in the absence of other food sources.
it's less about the behaviors being risky/unhealthy, and more about the situation or environment being unhealthy for the person. simply removing the behaviors doesn't actually change the core issue, and it can even put that person at greater risk of harm to do so.
humans' psychological and social needs are just as important as their physical ones... and blaming people for those needs not being fulfilled is cruel.
Cassie "I just wish I could cry again" McKay 🤝 Michael "On the verge of tears" Robinavitch
Nobody talks about how suecidal thoughts are sometimes comforting. Like you think to yourself that no matter what happens, no matter how bad it gets. Thats the one thing that will always be there. It feels releaving knowing that theres just a way out, of everything. That you can skip all the steps and just quit. That can be calming. And thats dangerous. Really fucking dangerous.
I’ve never really been a fan of angst-heavy scenes. But I have to admit — the post-breakup scenes with Jimmy and Kim have a strangely… delicious kind of angst to them. It’s not only about two people who love each other breaking up, but about what that loss does to their identities, and it’s incredibly fascinating to watch.
The last shared scene where Kim sees Jimmy — his real self — is their breakup. It’s painful because he is completely open and vulnerable in front of her. His heart is entirely exposed, and yet it still isn’t enough. He still loses her.
And then the grief never really comes. Jimmy isn’t someone who knows how to process sadness, how to properly mourn… so he hides completely inside Saul. Not just in moments where it’s useful, not just when he needs to perform for others. It becomes a full replacement of himself. He retreats into the shell of someone who doesn’t attach, someone who cannot lose, someone who only cares about material things because those things cannot hurt him again.
Then comes the divorce papers scene. Before Kim arrives, we briefly see Jimmy alone with the papers, and he clearly isn’t okay. And then, before she even walks in, he puts the mask on. When she enters, he barely acknowledges her, still playing on his phone as if none of it really matters.
Once she hands them to him, he puts his phone down and even gives the table a small theatrical double tap, a kind of “alright, let’s do this.” But when he actually holds the documents, you might notice his hands trembling slightly. He starts flipping through the pages and moving them around more than necessary, almost like he’s trying to bury the shaking inside the motion so it won’t be obvious to her. And then the performance returns, the casual tone and the “I’m totally fine” act. Not out of disrespect, but because if he dropped it, it would reveal how much it actually hurts.
Cold Plunge