On Therapy, Seals, Faith, and Good Things

Swimming away from my problems be like...

Early one morning before people had gotten up, a man from Myrdal in the east was walking past some cliffs when he came to the entrance to a cave. He could hear that there was merrymaking and dancing going on inside the hill, and outside he saw a large number of sealskins. He picked up one of them, took it home, and locked it in his trunk. Some time later, in the course of the day, he went back to the cave's entrance. A beautiful young girl was sitting there. She was entirely naked and crying bitterly. She was the seal to whom the skin belonged that the man had taken. The man gave the girl some clothing, comforted her, and took her home with him. 

Later she came to accept him, but never got along very well with other people. She would often just sit there and look out to sea. After some time the man took her as his wife. They lived well together and had many children. 

The peasant hid the skin, locking it securely in his trunk, and he carried the key with him everywhere he went. 

Many years later he rowed out fishing and forgot the key at home under his pillow. 

However, others say that the peasant went to a Christmas service with his people, but that his wife had been sick and was unable to go with them. They say that he forgot to take the key out of the pocket of his everyday clothes when he changed. When he arrived home that evening the trunk was open, and his wife had disappeared with the skin. She had found the key, out of curiosity looked through the trunk, and found the skin. 

She could not resist the temptation. She said farewell to her children, put on the skin, and threw herself into the sea. 

Before the woman jumped into the sea, it is reported that she said:
This I want, and yet I want it not, --
Seven children have I at the bottom of the sea,
Seven children have I as well here above. 

It is said that this touched the peasant's heart. After this, when he rowed out fishing, a seal often swam around his boat, and it seemed that tears were running from its eyes. From this time on he was always successful catching fish, and luck often came to his beach. 

People frequently saw this couple's children walking on the beach while a seal swam along out in the sea accompanying them. It would throw colorful fish and pretty shells to them. 

But the mother never again returned to land.

~ "Selshamurinn" ("The Seal-Skin") as told by Jón Árnason

So I've started therapy. I've been at it for about a month and it is honestly so god damned weird sometimes but also I cannot recommend it enough. So far it's already been very helpful in getting me to begin to recognise when someone is unintentionally hurting me and how I can deal with that productively.

But it's also helping me recognise that I apologise too much. My therapist - hereafter referred to as "Dr. G" - asked me why I think this is. I guess on some level, due to past trauma, I'm afraid of displeasing anyone, but she also helped me to recognise that this fear is no longer serving me, and that I don't need to be so apologetic about taking up space. About existing. I'm not explaining this as well as she did, but I am trying to be more mindful about this, to stop apologising for every little damn thing and to stop putting myself out there and meddling in people's business every time I think there might be the smallest chance they might be mad at me. It's... easier said than done.

Dr. G, in trying to help me come up with a method of recognising when I am doing this, noticed that I was wearing my favourite socks that I own and asked "why not take on a seal as your personal power animal?"

I said "you mean like a fylgja?" because I am a white Heathen and have no right to the phrase "Spirit Animal" or its variants. (In fact, you shouldn't be using that phrase either.)

This is what I mean about therapy being weird. But what's weirder is that it's working.

The Curious Case of Mary Bell

WARNING: This post includes discussion of dark topics such as murder, violence, child abuse, and child death. Please be mindful of your own mental health and if you need to skip this one, I’ll see you next time.

Fuck it. If facebook is gonna censor me anyway, I might as well do a blog entry about true crime, a subject I've long been fascinated by and that I've wanted to dip my toes into for awhile. Not in the gross 'I wanna fuck Ted Bundy' way - seriously what the hell is up with those people? No, I more find it psychologically interesting to ponder what drives someone to that.

Child psychology in particular is interesting to me. In an ideal world, of course, this would involve the psychology of how a child grows, how their brain changes and how they learn, stuff like that. Unfortunately, this is not an ideal world. Many people are completely unfit to raise children, and abuse them horrifically. Due to my own personal triggers, I will not go too into detail as to what that abuse entails, but I'm assuming you all can use your imaginations.

Children raised in such conditions often have long-term learning difficulties, problematic behaviors, and increased incidences of physical and mental health issues, all stemming from the abuse. Children learn who they are by interacting with their primary caretakers, and it's little wonder that the ignored, marginalised, or abused child has little sense of who they really are. They internalise what's been said or done to them, and lacking any healthy coping mechanisms (often they need, with their limited facilities, to quickly cobble together maladaptive coping mechanisms) they suffer greatly - and often turn to making others suffer as a way to regain some sense of the power that has been robbed from them.

The "Child of Rage" documentary about Beth Thomas is an example about how such treatment can damage a child's psyche. At only six years old, Thomas admitted to a clinical psychologist, on tape, that she would hurt her adoptive parents and birth sibling if given the opportunity. Her adoptive parents, Jill and Rob Tyler, locked their young daughter in her room at night because they were afraid of what she might do - all because of the way her biological father had abused her from infancy. (Also what kind of sick fuck abuses an infant?!)

Beth saw a series of psychiatrists who struggled to help her develop empathy, and overcome her psychopathic personality, which was the result of her father's sick behaviour. And, after years of intensive therapy, she was able to re-learn empathy and has grown to be a well-adjusted adult woman who helps others as a nurse. Her therapist, however, was one of the adults responsible for the tragic and terrible murder (and YES, I do view it as a murder, as they all should have known better) of Candace Tiara Ellmore, better known as Candace Newmaker. (Warning - That link is the most sickening and depressing story you’ll probably ever read, and not safe for sanity.)

Of course, Beth Thomas was not the first (and sadly not the last) child whose psyche was horrifically warped by early abuse. A few decades before her, in a working-class town in England, there lived a serial killing child named Mary Bell.