For non-apologists, saying “I’m sorry” carries psychological ramifications that run far deeper than the words themselves imply; it elicits fundamental fears (either conscious or unconscious) they desperately want to avoid:
- Admissions of wrong doing are incredibly threatening for non-apologists because they have trouble separating their actions from their character. If they did something bad, they must be bad people; if they were neglectful, they must be fundamentally selfish and uncaring; if they were wrong, they must be ignorant or stupid, etc. Therefore, apologies represent a major threat to their basic sense of identity and self-esteem.
- Apologizing might open the door to guilt for most of us, but for non-apologists, it can open the door instead to shame. While guilt makes us feel bad about our actions, shame makes them feel bad about their selves—who they are—which makes shame a far more toxic emotion than guilt.
- While most of us consider apologies as opportunities to resolve interpersonal conflict, non-apologists may fear their apology will only open the floodgates to further accusations and conflict. Once they admit to one wrongdoing, surely the other person will pounce on the opportunity to pile on all the previous offenses for which they refused to apologize as well.
- Non-apologists fear that by apologizing, they would assume full responsibility and relieve the other party of any culpability—if arguing with a spouse, for example, they might fear an apology would exempt the spouse from taking any blame for a disagreement, despite the fact that each member of a couple has at least some responsibility in most arguments.
By refusing to apologize, non-apologists are trying to manage their emotions. They are often comfortable with anger, irritability, and emotional distance, and experience emotional closeness and vulnerability to be extremely threatening. They fear that lowering their guard even slightly will make their psychological defenses crumble and open the floodgates to a well of sadness and despair that will pour out of them, leaving them powerless to stop it. They might be correct. However, they are incorrect in assuming that exhibiting these deep and pent-up emotions (as long as they get support, love, and caring when they do—which fortunately, is often the case), will be traumatic and damaging. Opening up in such a way is often incredibly therapeutic and empowering, and it can lead them to experience far deeper emotional closeness and trust toward the other person, significantly deepening their relationship satisfaction.
Credit: Psychology Today
It was over 100 degrees again today in Los Angeles, where the mere the thought of going outside caused you to sweat. It was so hot that it was inhumane to even work outside. So, Chuck and I decided to chill out at a friends pad to get out of the heat.
“I love these low-calorie health bars,” Chuck says to me while unwrapping another energy bar.
“How many of those have you had?” Playing Call of Duty with my headset on. “BigDick90 I need you to secure the package, also watch out for snipers.”
“I’ve had like four, I’m going to lose weight in no time,” finishing another one.
“BigDaddy, I need you to throw a grenade in the building to clear out our path. BigDick watch our back while we go in.”
“I’m going to look great in my neon thong,” as Charles check outs his figure in…
View original post 728 more words
1. People Are Eating More Junk Food Than Ever
Source: Dr. Stephan Guyenet. Fast Food, Weight Gain and Insulin Resistance.Whole Health Source.
People are eating more calories than before… but pretty much all of the increase has come from processed foods.
In the graph above, you see how the population changed its eating habits in the past 120-130 years.
At the turn of the 20th century, people were eating mostly simple, home-cooked meals. Around 2009, about half of what people ate was fast food, or other foods away from home.
This graph actually underestimate the true change, because what people are eating at home these days is also largely based on processed foods.
2. Sugar Consumption Has Skyrocketed
Source: Johnson RJ, et al. Potential role of sugar (fructose) in the epidemic of hypertension, obesity and the metabolic syndrome, diabetes, kidney disease, and cardiovascular disease. The American Journal of…
View original post 1,036 more words
We’ve all heard that if we eat too many calories, we’ll get fat. But there’s more to it: it’s not just the calories, but the chemicals, in our food that contribute to obesity.
Some of these chemicals — called “obesogens” — trigger our bodies to store fat even though we might be restricting calories. The effects are complex: some of these chemicals increase the number of fat cells, others expand the size of fat cells and still others influence appetite, cravings, fullness and how well the body burns calories. In addition to obesogens, other synthetic food ingredients have been shown to help us pack on the pounds and leave us feeling depressed, even when when we think we’re eating healthy.
To stop feeling that way, here are the top five chemicals to avoid in food.
- Growth Hormones & Antibiotics
Several drugs, growth hormones, steroids and antibiotics are routinely…
View original post 541 more words
I take a look over the starboard side as we pull into port seeing these ghost-like fish in the water.
“Hey bro, what are those?”
“They look cute.”
“Sure, if you like kissing a thousand tasers?”
“They can kill you in seconds.”
“There’s not many out here right?”
“Oh no, they’re everywhere over here but there are more sharks but it’s cool they’re the least of your concerns.”
Wondering what else could be least of my concerns with deadly ghost-like fishes swimming all around me, I step onto the quarterdeck with the heat hitting me all at once, which I finally knew what he was talking about. Fuck it was hot. No wonder Jesus died over her.
“Hey bro, is it usually this fucking hot?”
“Nah, it’s pretty cool today.”
“I guess they were right in bootcamp that was like Hell over here.”
“What? That was bullshit, it barely goes over 130 degrees over here on a good day. Have a nice day and enjoy the pizza.”
I salute him getting off the boat, trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about but the closer I got to the ground the hotter it got. It was way hotter on land as could feel the heat bouncing back off the concrete. I was already pouring sweat and I haven’t got into any combat yet. Of course, my natural response to suffering is to get blacked out drunk. I ask a raghead where I could get a drink and he points me out to the Beer Hut as he stares at me like he wanted to kill me. Which I could feel the hate while was walking around on base with the natives checking me out wondering how to kill me without alarming any bells.
I enter this pathetic excuse of fun and recreation going to straight for the alcohol. I double fists two tall boys and down the medicine in my head right away. It tasted like a mixture of dog piss and sweat. So, I decided maybe should grab some pizza to go this epic beverage. It looked like a normal pizza but there was something different but not in a good way about this meal. As I was eating it both my mouth and brain was simultaneous telling me that something was not right. As I try to swallow and figure out this enigma someone quietly tells me, “its goat meat.”
“What?” With my mouth full which apparently was full of goat meat.
“It’s goat meat, that’s why it tastes kinda weird but you’ll get used it. Hopefully, you get that bacteria like this guy did last week and died.”
Then it hit me. Everything about this place is meant to kill you.
the people all want to kill you including the goats.
Life lesson number three: What doesn’t kill you, makes you stranger.
I throw up the goat meat as he introduces himself, “My name is Skuba I’m from Long Beach. How many times have you’ve masterbated today. I think I jerked it five times today, wait, I just came right now. Anyways sometimes I use my left hand if want something new and mysterious, you know what I’m talking about?” Skuba tells me this with no expressions on his face. He seemed like a normal white dude that kinda looked a skinhead with a shaved head but there was nothing normal about this dude. He had all the qualities of a human being but he definitely was missing a chromosome or two. I tell him it was great meeting him excusing myself, thinking what the fuck was that about. Walking back to my barracks, which it was around dusk and it was still hot as fuck. No wonder everyone was such in a bad mood around here as I could hear mortars and gunshots close by with men’s voices shouting in the distance. Fuck I realized, I’m actually in Hell. I decided to call back home to check in with the folks before I hit the rack.
“How is it out there?”
“Super. Everything is great!”
All fathers can tell when their own flesh and blood is lying to them.
“Just take care of yourself and look out for you.”
“I hear you dad.”
“Your mother and I are very proud of you.”
This was more puzzling to hear this than the goat pizza because I was such a hellrazer growing up, causing such pain for my parents. I guess my parents were starting to respect me for being out here as human body bag.
“Just come home to us. Do what you gotta do.”
(Life lesson number four)
“Will do.” Click.
“Jesus. What did you eat last night?” Skuba asks me as I throw up in a wastebasket.
“Nothing but the best for me. Had the military’s finest chow this morning.” Telling Skuba wiping the puke off my face.
“How are you even sick right now? The waves are so choppy right now. They’re like 5 feet tall, they’re not even affecting the boat.” A confused Skuba asks while he stares at radar screen with his headphones on.
“It feels like I’m one of those fucked Magic Mountain rides that shoots all the way up then drops all the way down as it repeats the process over and over again.”
“You know what I had for breakfast this morning? Last night’s enchiladas, just heated those bitches up the microwave added salsa and spicy Velveeta cheese dip, sprinkled hot Fritos over that shit, it was the bomb!”
I grab the wastebasket again putting my whole head inside as I throw up again.
“I think I need another trash can. This one is getting full.”
“You should have taken that Dramamine before we sailed out. Unknown contact Starboard side bearing 060.”
“Fuck no. I’m not weak.”
“Clearly you are. You’re not an expert sailor like I am.”
“You’ve been on a boat once and it was a cruise liner.”
“I’m a Mer-Man. I was made for the sea. This is why I eat all that tuna.”
“You eat Tuna in a bag. Can we not talk about seafood right now?”
“Starboard side lookout can you ID the unknown contact at 030?”
I start to get mesmerized by all the bright lights inside CIC. “I think I’m going to throw up again.”
“Can you throw up on the screen? I want to get off this monitor, this is too much responsibility for me?”
“Combat – Starboard side lookout. On the binos, it appears to be a cargo/ fishing vessels. It’s flying Canadian flag and the crew members are working outside. Copy that.”
“Copy that. Canadian Al Quida fishermen are on the starboard side. Let’s light those motherfuckers up.”
“You’re an idiot. There are no Canadian fishermen terrorists.”
“Bro, you never know homie. They might be hiding WMDs inside the fish. We gotta attack them before they attack us. It’s called a preemptive attack, dog.”
“Okay, George W. What are they going to do throw fish at us?”
“Shit, don’t matter what they throw at us. We got Sea Wiz.”
Sea Wiz as we called was a close-in weapon system, which is used for detecting and destroying short-range incoming missiles and enemy aircraft. It was our last line of defense between the enemies attack, including Canadian fisherman terrorists.
“Starboard side lookout – Combat. They got a hull number on that badboy?”
“Starboard – Combat. Yeah it BZ1569.”
“Hey, McQuizzy. If you’re not to busy throwing up all over the place can you give me any Intel this high value target on my right side? If it’s too much to ask?”
“Copy that dick. Give me sec.”
“Bring that trashcan with you. I don’t want to be paying for any military equipment you throw up on.”
I grab the little wastebasket as I go check on the computer for any Intel on the vessel.
“Hey Captain Moron. That’s a fueling tank. We’re supposed to refuel with her in an hour.”
“Damn it. I was going get my Purple Heart.”
“I don’t they give to retards.”
“Why do they always call boats female?” Aren’t there gay or transgender boats out there?”
“I’m going with the don’t ask or tell policy.”
OS Chief Walker walks into CIC acting really irritable as he plays with his thick porno style mustache.
“Guys, I need both of you guys on the flight deck in a hour to help with the refueling. I know you guys haven’t slept in two days ever since that incident and we are short staffed but they need every man who’s available. I tried to make the IT guys do it, but those candy asses with their precious jerk off hands can’t get their hands dirty. Fucking nerds! So, when you get relieved in hour by the other watch, head out there on the flight deck with overalls and pretend like you’re actually give a shit about job. I’m going to my rack and try to jerk one off before chow. Also, change out the fucking air fresheners in here. It smells like fucking Tijuana in here, you dirty bastards!” OS Walker tells as he leaves CIC.
We both start laughing hysterically then both of us got serious.
“Fuck this sucks.”
“At least were not going to going to the weather decks going deck maintenance.”
“That’s dumb as hell as well. I mean its seawater. It’s supposed to fuck up shit. Do we have to do maintenance while we’re at sea?”
“That really sucked being out there when it was 100 degrees but we did get to see a crazy ass view,” Skuba tells me while he fixes his radar.
It was a crazy ass view as Skuba and I were out on the decks a couple days ago going maintenance on the decks, just hammering and chiseling on the hard floors both of us wondering what the hell we are going this for?
“Why do we have to fix this shit again? Does the enemy even fucking care about our weather decks?” I shout at Skuba as I wipe the sweat in my eyes.
“No, bro. It’s all about discipline and being a team member.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Okay, the Captain sometimes comes out here to smoke a fag and he doesn’t want to see shitty ass decks on his fucking boat because he’s an obsessive control freak.”
“Hey, isn’t that Clint?”
I look up of where Skuba was pointing noticing it was Clint on the edge of the flight deck? Clint was just standing alone staring at the ocean with a concerned look on his face.
“What the fuck is he doing?” I ask Skuba.
“Maybe he’s going to swim back to the main land to get back with his wife.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s kinda funny. It’s only took a month and the bitch has slept with everyone on the Lacrosse team in her college.”
“How the fuck do you know do that?”
“He told me while we were playing Madden a couple days ago.”
“Fuck I got a big mouth.”
“It’s fine bro. It’s our job to know this.”
“We’re only supposed to monitor for unusually activity or if they’re giving out any sensitive information. Not know if they’re wife is a big whore or not.”
“Hey, man. You don’t gotta feel sorry for him or yourself. We all knew what we signed up for when we signed on the dotted line.”
I was astonished because Skuba was right. We all knew what the risks were when you signed up for the military. Skuba talks a lot of crazy shit but sometimes he just says shit that just makes sense, but most of the time it’s just crazy shit.
“Dolphins!” Skuba screams out in enjoyment like a ten-year old boy.
I look over the side wondering where they were going, and then I see Clint jump of the flight deck like it was nothing. From the flight deck to the water had of been hundred feet or more, which you could survive from but you could have died from the shock or the jellyfishes. Those fucked up ass jellyfishes. The Man Over board alarm goes off as Skuba and I run back to CIC to tell the Chief but Walker was already on it as they turn the boat around deploying the rescue team to pick up Clint. Apparently, he stuck the landing and didn’t break anything except for his ego as we saw him in the mess hall going to medic to get evaluated as the rumors were circling around the ship about his whore of wife, who is now divorcing him. I’m not even sure why they needed to evaluate him. He’s life is falling apart and he wants to go back home. I guess after a couple months out here you just get sick of the sea and you just want to go home. As Skuba eloquently puts it, “damn it, we should have bet if he would survived the fall.”
But I guess we all have bills to pay and a job is job, so after days on watch not getting any sleep because we were on suicide watch, Skuba and I were on the flight deck in our overalls doing our duty, pretending that we actually gave a fuck.
“All time Batman.” Skuba asks me as he lies down on his back at the refueling party.
“Are we talking about the tv series or the movie series? Also, why is it called a refuel party? Not one motherfucker out here is having fun.”
“Movie Series. It’s a refuel party because they need a group of dumb motherfuckers to do all the manual labor.”
“There has to be a better aka smart way then shooting a line at a boat then hauling it in as they attach the big ass fuel line on it. The probability of this going tits up is high as fuck.”
“Jesus, I wish I was high as fuck right now. I’ll go first Michael Keaton.”
“He was pretty good.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? He is the gold standard of Batman.”
“Listen, I’m not saying he sucked. He was really good as Batman but I am really fond for Val Kilmer.”
“I don’t even know you anymore,” Skuba tells me sitting up shaking his head at me as they whistle us to line up for the refueling.
The tanker has to be close enough to us so the refueling line is nice and even so when they transfer fuel to us there isn’t any leakage because it might start a fire and blow our asses out of the water, which is another reason why this procedure if not done correctly could be really dangerous for our crew and theirs. Thank god they chose Skuba and I to be part of this highly important task.
“Val Kilmer was a joke. He almost killed the Batman franchise.”
The tanker blows its whistle as we prepare ourselves as they shoot out their refueling line thru a median size ball.
“Are you kidding me? George Clooney was the joke, in that pansy ass purple underwear,” I tell Skuba as we both duck and cover as the refuel ball line gets shot out of the tanker and lands safely on our flight deck. Everyone at the refueling party grabs the refueling line, pulling the rope in trying to get the refueling hose close to us.
“George had a lot on his plate coming right after the great Michael Keaton. What did you expect? I think his performance was a fresh of breath air and gave a new dimension to the role.” Skuba confidently tells me as we all pull in the fuel line getting it connected with our fuel line as the refueling party leader tells us to relax and wait around until the transfer of fuel was complete.
“Fine. George was a good Batman. I’m just saying Kilmer was better than all of them.”
Skuba is visibly upset now pacing back and forth on the flight deck beside himself.
“You know I’m the biggest Batman aficionado on this boat and maybe biggest fan in the ocean right now.”
“Pacific and Atlantic?” I sarcastically tell Skuba.
“You can add the motherfuckin Arctic and the Indian Ocean to that shit. You want to see my Batman underwear?”
“I never want to see your underwear! Every time when I wake up you always roll out of your rack ass first,” I tell Skuba as I notice the tanker was suspiciously really close to us.
“I’m taking off my overalls and showing you right now.”
“Hey, idiot isn’t the tanker really close to us,” as we both look up then the collision alarm goes off.
FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.
“What the fuck do we do?” Asking Skuba as he already curled up into a ball in the fetal position like a baby.
“Brace for impact!” Someone yells.
There was nothing around me, so I just grabbed a piece the flight deck and grabbed my balls, hoping this wasn’t the end, cursing the Gods, wondering why the hell I was actually out here?
“I fucking hate the sea!” I scream out.
“Michael Keaton is the best Batman ever!” Skuba screams out has we hit the fuel tanker making this huge crunching noise that echoed through the ocean as everyone gets thrown off their equilibrium as we all ducked and covered, then a huge blast went off in front of the boat.
I finally had the balls to look up and noticed a huge black smoke cloud in front of our boat. Apparently, the fuel tanker hit us right on our bow, which is close to CIC and close to our berthing department.
“If you aren’t hurt, we need people in front of the ship immediately!” A marine sergeant screams to us.
Then the fight or flight gear kicks in as I say fuck it running with the sergeant along with a couple of shipmates as we get inside the ship, noticing there was water on the deck and most of the compartments had water but it wasn’t too serious because the collision team immediately closed off and made the compartments that were damaged water tight. As I go through compartment after compartment, I finally make it to the front of ship stopping at CIC noticing that everyone inside didn’t look to concerned to what just happened as I see Chief Walker with his feet up on the combat console chewing on a stogie playing with his mustache.
“Fucking idiots,” Chief Walker says.
“Is everyone in here okay?” I ask people on watch in CIC.
“Has it already been 12 hours?
“Then fuck off!”
“It sounds you like guys are okay.”
I make it past navigation finally making to the bow, where a couple of shipmates where clearing the debris as people in charge were accessing the damage. I get close to the damage looking across at the tanker, which there was a huge hole that looked like Pacman took a bite out of their ship as they slowly moved away from us. They got the worse of it but we had significant damage as well as I could see the bottom of the bow that wasn’t even there anymore, which was funny cause I could see compartment that was close to ours that was comprised. From far away our ship looked like it was a shark above water from the damage it took from the tanker.
No one died, a couple of got a few scratches and bruises but it could have been worse. It was amazing that the fuel didn’t catch on fire and both our ships blew up. I mean there could have been a million things that could have gone wrong, but we ended up walking away from it, even though we would had to go to Hawaii to spend a month or two for repairs on the boat, which wasn’t that fucking bad but unfortunately our cool ass captain lost his command of the ship even though it wasn’t his fault but I guess the captain always goes down with the ship.
I stare into the beautiful Pacific Ocean horizon with the dolphins playing next to us having not a care in the world as two tug boats assist us on our way to Hawaii with a little smoke and a little breeze through our boat but we’ve all gained a better appreciation for the sea as well as life. A bunch of us could have died that day but sea had other plans for us. The sea giveths and the sea takeths, but today she was on our side as I stare at the Sun fall into the ocean with clear skies, wondering what my love ones were doing right now as we were hundreds of miles away from home heading to our unknown future but at least I was finally getting my sea legs underneath me. Then I hear Skuba, I spot him just in his black Batman underwear eating tuna holding magazines, shouting at me at the top of his lungs beneath from the damaged bow standing near our birthing compartment.
“Bro! My Batman comics and Penthouse magaz are fine. Woooo! This is a great view. I told you Michael Keaton was the best Batman ever!”
THE HATED ONES
Buy it on Amazon.com