Psychology In Action

Yes, once again I digress from the point of this page which is my stories, but I need to share this to get it out my head.

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I've literally just got back from spending a day with a mental health nurse, while most of the day was irrelevant to what I want to do with psychology (Back ground info: I'm in my last year of secondary school, hence the lack of stories due to way too much work, and I'm looking to do psychology at university then become a clinical psychologist.) but three things were useful.
the first of these was a Q&A session with a psychiatrist which highlighted what the team does and how they help 'service users' (patients to you and I) and the differences between psychiatrists and psychologists.

Next was a Q&A with a Psychologist who gave me ideas for routes into the job and has volunteered to act as a contact for me in later life, which is majorly cool.

The last useful thing is what has been plaguing my mind constantly. My nurse had to do some ward visits, which due to patient doctor confidentiality, so I was left in her office with a pile of files to read. Honestly it was the most eye opening and genuinely interesting experience of my life. Most were basic accounts of service users that that has one or two psychotic episodes and I was given details of their condition and how they were treated. It was amazing to see the psychology I've been learning about put into practice. There were cases of bipolar disoders, schizophrenia and a few depression. It was amazing to see the small things that caused extreme disorders and the major things that caused small things.

The most interesting case was two folders full and it was of a girl who at 16 had been raped( I won't go into detail about anything personal if I can help it) and had then suffered depression and attempted suicide. She had failed and was then referred to the NHS for treatment. It went well and she seemed to be gettign over her depression, but she was then raped again this time by some one she trusted. Her condition then deteriated and she became bipolar and paranoid and believed people were watching her and had bugged her house. She began to exercise to much and go days without eating or sleep. It was fascinating to read so much about this person I'd never met and have insights into how they thought and see tests they'd written. It was oddly humbling, but strange because i began to feel for this woman who at only a few years older than me had been through so much and had so little support and have so many people take advantage of her and not help.

The file went up to March this year when the woman had just bought a flat and had a good full time job and seemed to be doing ok. The last entry however was dated two weeks ago and she had seen a man who was the brother of the second rapist and that had sent her into a downward spiral.

It made my goal of being a psychologist seem all the more worthwhile, if I can make a difference to one person like her and let them lead a normal life, then I'll have done something to be proud of.

This experience had also given me new prospective on my life and my problems, and also given me some solutions for my own psychological problems like my insomnia and my occasional minor depression. Problems those around me have or have had too have become more real and not just stories and I can empathise more with them and understand more of what they felt.

All in all I'm so glad I went today and can't wait for my return visit in January.

Dwyrain I

My last post was an idea... this is that idea realised. Enjoy.

Sellec stood to attention as the mounted officer passed, he waited until the hoof beats echoed from the closed streets, before he sank back against the wall his blewyn across his knees as he grated his whet stone along the blade to hone its edge.
Sellec had been a guard for eighteen months, two weeks, three days, and some four hours. He had come from a long line of warriors and as was the custom in the great city he’d followed his father into the guard. However Sellec was a poor soldier, he was good so much as he could fight well and was physically able, but he was too intelligent to just follow orders and to poor to gain a rank. It did not bother Sellec that he was constantly reprimanded for questioning and order. The guard, though well train and well equipped were largely a token force, the great walls of Dwyrain had never fallen even with the yearly skirmishes and sieges by the Llwyth tribesmen, those banished from the city and their descendants living out on the desolate western plains. They hated the city dwellers of the great city, whose walls surrounded half a continent.
Most residents of Dwyrain, lived in their white marble houses or tilled the fields in the farmers quarter or those high up who dwelt in ‘Castell’, the walled garden; the citadel those rose above all other buildings in the centre of the city. The average citizen never saw the faces of the tribesmen shot down every year by the Dolen of the men on the walls as they ran forward with their siege ladders; never saw the looks of desperation and anger as they threw away their lives against the walls.
Sellec finished with the whet stone and replaced it in the pouch on his belt, he lifted the blade to his eye line, it was sharp. There was still an hour to go of his watch, he replaced the Blewyn in the scabbard on his back and drew the Ochri from the scabbard on his thigh. Sellec carried the weapons he felt comfortable with as did most of the guards; upon enlisting each man was given a breast plate of tanned leather and a long spear though few kept the weapon. Sellec carried both Blewyn, a long curved sword that was wielded in two hands and the Ochri, a short straight sword for stabbing in close quarters. In battle he also carried a Tarian, a light shield metal round shield though he left it in the barracks for guard duty.
He sighted along the blade of the short sword, it was sharp already, he cursed and sheathed it. He stood, stretched his back and removed the stiffness from his legs. He stood at his post; shoulder against the wall his thoughts on Prisima, the young daughter of the barkeep of the ‘west wall’ tavern. He smiled at the thought of her curves and her full breasts as the sweat trickled down his body in the mid day sun.


Jarren lay in the dim purple light of the tent. It was hot out on the plain, even naked he could feel the prickle of heat on his skin. His woman Sumeris lay in front of him, the soft skin of her back pressed against him. His hands stroked her swollen belly, slipping up her body to her breasts.
Hr longed to make love to her, but the babe was dun in the next few days and she had refused him only the other evening. She rolled into him, they kissed, their lips lingered for a second before he stared into the enchanting green of her eyes and embraced her.

Two days before she had been his world, her and their child. The delegation had arrived the morning before however and torn his dreams asunder. They were planning a new attack, all the settlements attacking together under one leader, to try to breach the walls and take the east of the city. Jarren’s father pledged forty men, Jerran among them. They were to meet at the next full moon at an agreed meeting place with all the provisions and weapons they’d need. Jarren was loathe to leave the settlement; he knew there was little chance of returning.
The last attack on the city two years before had been a massacre, Jarren had watched from afar through his fathers spy glass. None of the tribesmen had reached the walls; they had all been slain by the Dolen of the men on the walls. Jarren’s uncle, the reason why his family were exiles had been killed by a bolt through the eye.

She kissed his neck, he moaned softly and lay back, she moved to his chest, He lost himself in his lust, he would think of the attack another time. They kissed again, and finally she gave in he lay her down on the rug, stared into her eyes and smiled.

Sophia:II

She followed the path that she’d cleared over the past few days. It had once been an animal trail, so she needed little effort to remove the few newly grown vines and stray branches and she made sure that there was no evidence that a human has passed there. As she neared the research facility she could hear the low rumble and hum of the generators, powered by and underground geothermal station. She knew this from the blue prints she’d seen, acquired at great risk by deep cover agents, she sent a silent prayer to those men and women in the north and continued to slip through the undergrowth. From where she crouched now, she could see the mesh fence that served as a deterrent, its watch towers, one positioned at each corner, strafed their spotlights across the killing zone of scrub grass before them.

She took one last deep breath, let her hands slip to her thighs and gripped the two .9mms.
Now she ran, she covered the fifty or so meters that had separated her from the tower in a heart beat and lay panting her back to the support leg. She hoped that the guards stationed above her had been preoccupied and were not just waiting for her to reappear.

From a pocket on her calf she produced a small pair of wire cutters and cut a hole at the bottom of the fence just big enough for her to slip through. On the other side replaced the cutters and holstered one of her pistols. She could hear the barking of a dog not far off the clink of chain and the heavy breathing of a guard, as he wheezed his way through a cigarette. She looked up at the concrete walls and saw the air vent she ran up the wall kicking out when she reached the correct height then back flipping back to her feet. The physical exertion left her feeling sick but she reached up and scrambled into the little space as she heard the dog round the corner a growl rolling in its throat.

She took another deep breath; that had been the bit she was most dreading, but it had been so easy. Why? She began the slow crawl, through the vents. Thankfully they were blissfully cool due to the humid jungle day. Sophia’s movements were slow and deliberate and she crawled, eve the slightest sound would be heard on the other side of the vent, and who knew who’d here. She reached the correct junction, which way now?

She mouthed an obscenity, she thought it was left but could not be sure, after a few moments deliberation she stuck with her instincts, crawled down the vents and past another two junctions, going straight on each time, and then she reached the grate hoping it was the right one.

The room below was dark, she could see nothing, there should be no one here at this time, the scientists had flown back the day before and the next lot weren’t due for three days. She reached in her pocket and found one of the two flares she’d been given, twisted the top and dropped it through the gate. The red light fizzled to life, and illuminated the huge laboratory.

Sophia: I

OK thsi is a new piecew that i'm v v involved in enjoy more tomorrow. (p.s no the ain character is not lara croft)

It was warm in the thin canvas of the tent, and she lay on top of the thick quilt of her sleeping bag. Sweat trickled down her exposed cleavage; the tank top she wore along with the sports bra and combat pants had all been in the kit she’d been given on embarkation of the gun ship. She slipped the freshly cleaned cocking system of her 9.mm and holstered it on her right thigh as she completed the ritual with her second gun. The small bandoleer next to her was filled with the C4 charges she’d need, which meant all she needed was another crackling signal from the radio next to her telling her to move out.
This part of the Evecian jungle was peaceful, the HEM forces having cleared out much of the wild life when they had built they’re research facility, a facility she was now to destroy. The world had been at war for 30 years now, after the HEM take over of Evecia in the last elections they had used the country’s vast resources to build huge weapons and raises the largest army ever known. They had gradually begun to take over neighbouring countries and with those the party already had control over formed a giant empire the likes of which had become myth in ancient books.
The rest of the world bowed to the HEM and they won more and more provinces and countries in legal political elections, their preferred method of take over. They swept over the whole north continent dividing the world in two. The nations of the southern hemisphere banded together in an alliance and the stale mate began. This was two years ago and in the last two years; things had got much, much worse.

The HEM Empire had launched huge air attacks on major cities of the southern alliance, reducing vast acres of Land to smouldering rubble. The governments had moved to secret caves, or lonely mountain bunkers and had begun to run the counter attack. The two armies sat entrenched, in the Termac desert on the north shore of the southern continent. And each day saw both sides taking ground and losing men but neither had gained an upper hand. Mean while two things happened; the HEM had begun to experiment with gene splicing and chemical warfare. Soon enough they had an elite core of genetically altered soldiers, acting as the HEM’s policing force. Also gangs began to move into the ruins of the cities most were trying to avoid conscription or get rich but some formed a network of Underground resistance; and this was where she came in.
Sophia Adams, she was a young woman from Reseti in the south, the city where the biggest resistance core was. She’d lived with the Raktui gang for a year and had risen high in their hierarchy. She was a tall and attractive woman her red curls hugged her face, and she used this to her advantage, in fact it was by sleeping with the gang leader that she had been given this assignment.
The radio hissed and crackled beside her, she picked it up and turned the tuning dial slightly, suddenly the clicks and his became a far of voice, ‘Sophia, operation is go, chopper ready at extraction point’ She smiled put the radio on the floor and stamped on it. She took a lighter from her pocket and strapped on the bandoleer. She flicked the heavy metal lid and put her thumb on the flint wheel, the fire would reveal her presence so she thought better of it, and they couldn’t find the radio frequency now anyway. She began to move through the jungle.

Perfection

The early winds of spring whipped his hair about his face, it was too long and needed cutting weeks ago but he'd let it grow. He heard the bus pass behind him and considered turning to see if he could see her but decided that it would only make the separation harder. Long gardens bordered the road, pathways to the houses at their head, familiar houses he passed almost everyday of his life took on a new facade, all the world did once he'd left the joys of her embrace.
His eyes strayed across the scene before him, to the small saproling, barely covered in the glorious pink of fresh cherry blossom. His ears were filled with the usual and comforting music of the suburbs, and the hard tread of his feet on the tarmac. A young boy rode his bike down the other side of the road, he glanced over and felt the smile invade his lips and the strange feelign of longing and regret in his heart. He'd reached the cheery tree and its mild fragrence filled the air about it. The wind caught a loose blossom and it brushe dhis cheek before it was lost forever, the rest seemign all the more beautiful as the finality of there nature registered. As he neared the end of the raod he looked about him at the perfection that surrounded him, the still quiet that was both dull and exhilerating, and he laughed thsi is what he wanted, what he wanted to explain to her, how she had made him weep more than once, he felt a calling a perpose to his life in this small suburbian street and he laughed. He reached the end of the road and continued the walk home.

Remission

Giving my self a break from shaden at least for now. So heres this, inspired by a paintign and a song.

He lay next to her on the bed, she in his arms, his body curled round hers protecting her from the world. He could feel the heat of her, feel her soft pale his in his hands, fell the pressure of her body against his. He lowered his face into her hair breathing the scent in deeply, filling his head with lust for her. The room was semi dark, the night natural black disrupted by the moonlight that spilled through the windows, her skin glowed in that twilight, he kissed her head, and relaxed. The feel of her wrapped in his arms made him feel completely safe, as if she would never leave and be his forever.
She shifted he held his breath guilt at waking her flooding him; she muttered something then returned to her rest. The candle that was by the bed guttered and was then extinguished the sulphurous smell mixing with the scent of her body.
He could hear nothing in the dark, even the brightly lit street outside was quiet, as if in respect of her rest, the world slept as she did, she commanded a legion of souls, his most of all yet he resisted her spell of sleep so he could lie here now watching the slow rise and fall of her breast and feel the beat of her heart. He kissed he again, and slept.

Shaden IV

This won't be as long as my others but i wanted to show the side of stories you don't usually read as it detracts from the action. (p.s. thanks to 'El Bownes' for the idea of where to go next)
Also to the right is another link to a friends Rpg site. All are welcome to join and its free. Just design your character and get going. I'm on there under my usually 'Citizen Williams' guise. Hope to see you on there.

Danyla sobbed in the quiet dark of the bedroom. Her face was shrouded in the mask of mourning, so none could see her tears nor the red marks that streaked her face. The body of her husband lay in the next room on the table, his neck twisted a sickening angle.
The guilds hired muscle of house Mari had cleared the house of all valuables, her husband had been a good man but now he was dead and that meant she was destitute. The local harima had coem to see her already, adding to her tears, for she was young and not unattractive and he could get a good price foir her body. She moved to the kitchen of her cosy little town apparment a took a thick bladed knife from the rack.

No one was around to hear the sharp gasp as the blade pierced her flesh and no one heard the grate of metal on bone or the whimper as she fell to the floor. The blood pooled around her, drowning the tear she'd let fall to the floor, in an ocean of crimson.

Shaden III

Yeah I know I said it'd be posted last week but the computer was free so I typed this up aswell. The glossary follows which gives you a the names of the guilds and what their responsibilites.

Kasimo followed the young merchant down the stairs; keeping to the shadows his foot steps muffled b the hick carpet that covered the cut stone floor.
The sunlight shone through the open door, dazzling the prey who stopped and rubbed his eyes Kasimo was close now. But the merchant started walking again ad now he was in the brightly lit street. He swore under his breath and slid his daggers into his sleeves. The red and purples blades were well known unlike his face.

Many believed the blades to harbour demons, where as in reality the blades got their distinctive colours from minerals added by the smithy at the Mage School, who had added the minerals to make the metal stronger and stay sharper.
Kasimo had been raised by the Mages since he was twelve, when he had been surrounded by the bodies of five guild debt collectors who had killed his father. He had been taken to the mage’s island by other guild members, as they made the assumption the way he could have killed the five men was by using magic.
They had been wrong; Kasimo had killed the men with his bare hands, striking each in a pressure point with enough force to kill.
Kasimo had a natural aptitude for war, once the mages realised he was useless as far as magic was concerned, they had arranged for tutors in different disciplines of war to train the young boy, by seventeen he could learn no more. That was three years ago, in that time he had been dispatched by the guild to kill, for many different reasons; he had killed merchants, ministers and would be rebels. All had fallen to his blades. Thanks to him the archipelago was kept quiet and the guild in power.

The merchant turned a corner into a darker street, Kasimo glanced around the corner, the street was empty, the cobbles carpeted in a thick layer of excrement and filth. It was too easy he sheathed his daggers then began to run.

The merchant heard the sound of feet and turned but saw nothing, then a shadow sprang from the wall then all was black.

The merchant unconscious Kasimo broke the merchant’s neck with a twist of his arm, opened the man’s mouth and put a small meal disk, the guild s calling card, inside. He pulled his hood about his face and began to walk back to the guild hall.
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Fumi: Dragon: Run The Mage School
Ekri: Strok: Diplomacy
Shoku: Bull: Farming
Fuku: Tiger: Warriors
Leku: Lion: Law
Nema: Boar: Smiths
Raki: Rat: Sanitation
Tomic: Eagle: Hunters
Aracna: Spider: Architects
Mari: Mantis: Money Lenders
Skeri: Scorpion: Subterfuge(spies)

Each house also has a symbol.. i've yet to design these but i will soon and they will be posted along with the map of Shaden.

Shaden II

OK this is the next part of what i started last time. I also metioned something else i was writng last time as well theres a link on the tool bar to the right of this called creativity unleashed. even though i say it my self its good its three of us and we're on part 30 atm.
any way heres the next bits soem words i use in this have replaced englih ones and i'll post a glossary with the next piece. well thats it for now the next part should be up early next week as its just waiting to be typed.

Farren was a merchant, a good merchant, he never cheated his patrons nor did he fail on his payments to his brokers. He was also a gambler, a bad gambler. It was this reason that he found him self in a reception lounge of minister Talen’s home. Minister Talen was a member of the guild and as such he had to the power to grant Farren the loan he needed.

The guild was the ruling force in the Shaden Isles, the guild hall stood on Shimoa, the lone mountain that rose above the only city on the isles, Wenham. The city had grown from the mountain in the middle of the main island of the archipelago, but had grown so large that it reached the east coast, where it had merged with the small port towns there.

The Guild was a collection of the twelve houses that ran the Shaden isles, each house controlled a part of the Archipelago’s society and those who were members of a house were viewed as higher than others. Farren was not in a house.

The figure who sat on the chez lounge before him was a tall thinly built man, a member of the Ekri, and like that bird he carried him self with a dignified grace.
A retainer greeted him and announced him to the minister, who stood and walked towards him.
‘I have heard of your plight why should I help you?’ His voice was too calm, too matter of fact for the young man who broke into tears.
‘I’ve been a fool lord I ask only for a chance to repent my mistakes.’ His voice shook with sobs.
‘How Do I know you will not continue to gamble? You already owe guild agents a considerable sum.’
The merchant looked away shamed knowing he could not change; he blushed and looked back to the taller man, ‘I am sorry for wasting your time.’ He bowed and left, tears still running down his face. The tall minister sighed, the man did indeed owe the guild a great deal and there was nothing he could do the guild had spoken.
He turned and sat on a nearby sofa, near the great window that made up one wall of the chamber. A shadow fell over him, ‘Lord Gellet has decided that the man dies.’ The shadow inclined its head and turned away. He half turned, ‘Make it quick.’ He stared blank eyed out of the window. It was sad that in the archipelago money was more important than people.

Shaden I (update)

ok well its the day after my 17th birthday for those few who may read this who don't already know. The last thing i posted i liked but i have no where to take it so suggestions would be cool... k for now i have a new piece which shall be below, and for those who think i've written nothign recently, i have on a joint blog whicha hug eon goign story where 3 of us are roleplaying characters in a story thats really comign together atm. so i'll post details new time... or you can try and find it if you must. any way i digress... i loved writign this piece it feels like the pieces i used to write so i'm going to continue it and hopefully develop the main character alot and suprise a fe wof you along the way as i don't want to take him down the usual cliched routes.(sorry disgressed again)

The figure separated its self from the shadows in the alley. His face was shrouded in the shadow cast by the hood of the black robes he wore. The dark alley stank of death, the sickly sweet smell of rot and the metallic tang of blood, it invaded the nostrils and sent his head swimming; he gagged and retched, adding the smell of bile to the sickening mix. The warm summer’s eve was only making the stench worse; the odour thick like an invisible fog now was the time to make his move.
He made his way through the alleys, the cobbles of the streets rough under the leather of his boots. He drew his daggers the long curved blades reflecting the moon light. Sweat trickled down his forehead, stinging his eyes; the stinking air burned in his lungs and is foot steps echoed in the confined space, but not enough to attract attention.

The city apartment belonged to a merchant called Velis, it was hewn from granite like much of the upper city, and the windows and balconies were covered in rich red curtains the two on the upper most floor showed a faint light about their edges, obviously an entertainment lounge or a bedroom, and that was where Velis would be.

He jumped onto a the low roof of a stable and then to the apartment that was one over form the luxurious merchants abode, who’s roof was lower. The sweat was trickling down his back now, his muscles tensed in preparation for more activity. He made the last jump to the merchant’s balcony, he slipped, shot out a hand and hook his fingers round the rail that ran around the balcony. He dropped his knife, he held his breath, one second, two; no one stirred in the room he let out the breath then levered him self over the rail and recovered his dagger, he span the twin blades in his fingers, the familiar weight a comfort, and moved to the curtain.

The room behind the thick velvet was painted white, no doubt to try and keep the heat from the room. Two candles burned low on a desk and another guttered and went out by the bedside. The only other furniture was a clothes chest at the foot of the bed and a simple woven seat chair. Despite his extravagance and flamboyance it seemed in private the merchant was a simple man.
He lifted the curtain at the base and rolled under allowing the wait of the heavy material to carry it back to earth, it left no draft unlike pulling the fabric aside. In the bed, was a large man in his middle years, he guessed about sixty, young for one so wealthy. He was sprawled on the bed, his arms wide his legs hooked at a strange angle. He looked happy, peaceful, but so did they all. He raised his right hand dagger in the candle light the faint purple sheen of the metal could be seen, and the deep red of the other blade. Velis breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling, the deep breath of one utterly asleep.
He placed the tip of the right hand blade at the man’s neck, and the blade of the other across his throat. In one quick motion both blades moved, one down the other across. He felt the resistant form the flesh and the bone, but his fate was still the same, he felt the old mans life drain away. Blood bubbled from the wound as a low moan escaped his victim’s lips. It was done and the guild would be pleased, he would serve as a reminder to others who fell behind in their debts.