In This Iron Ground (Natural Magic #1)

by Marina Vivancos

Like, in the really good comic books, evil and good are never separated by species or something, but by, like, motivation.” Damien understood better than most that some people did bad things and some people did good things, and having claws and fangs wasn’t going to change that. “It’s not about what people can do, but what they’re willing to do,”

He wished teachers would simply choose partners for them instead of subjecting them to this routine of social humiliation.

Damien wondered if he smelt like pack because he didn’t have one of his own.

“Despite the fact that your body is going to recover, I think we can see that you’re hurting somewhere deeper than that. I’m good with kidneys and stomachs and that sort of thing, but there’s someone that will be over soon that knows what to do with the kind of hurt you have. They’re part of what we call the crisis team, which are the ones who help when people are going through a really tough time and need help really quickly. You can rest for now, but she’ll come over to have a chat and see how things are going. I know that can sound a little scary, and it’s probably pretty silly of me to say this, but you don’t have to worry—she’s lovely and will be here just to help you. Okay?”

“So, as I said, my name is Sam. I’m a registered nurse, although my title now is Crisis Clinician. I think Dr. Wilson probably told you a little bit already, but I’m here to see how you’re doing. How you’re feeling. I know you’re tired, and the last thing you probably want is some stranger asking you a bunch of questions, so we’ll go as slowly as you want. If you want to take a break, tell me and we can, okay? Give yourself time to answer, and if you feel you can’t answer honestly just tell me and we can move onto something else, okay? “I also want to say, Damien, that I’m not here for anybody else but you. I’m not here for your social worker, for your foster carers, for your school—I’m here for you. For this moment in time, you’ve got me completely at your back,” she said. Her voice was kind, calm but straightforward.

“That sounds very difficult, Damien. It’s understandable why you would want to scratch your arms, feeling like that. It’s not good for you, in more ways than you realize, but that doesn’t mean you should be ashamed of trying to find a way to keep yourself from…disappearing,” Sam said.

“Have you ever done anything else when you’re feeling like that? Have you ever hurt yourself or thought of hurting yourself?” “No,” Damien said quickly. Probably too quickly by the look on Sam’s face when he glanced at her. “Seriously. No, I haven’t,” he said, more firmly this time. He turned momentarily to Mia, as if she could verify the truthfulness of the statement, but she just smiled and squeezed his hand. “I believe you Damien, don’t worry,” Sam said. Then, with the same straightforwardness, “And about suicide? Had you thought about it before?” The words fell like an anvil on Damien. Suicide. He hadn’t even remotely applied that term to himself. Suicide was what other people did. Heads in ovens and freefalls from bridges. Women in bathtubs with a cigarette in their mouth, goodbye cruel world. It hit Damien, then. What he had done, or tried to do. It spun around him in panoramic view. He had tried to kill himself. It wasn’t sleep, it wasn’t a rest, or a solution. It wasn’t anything better, wasn’t even nothingness. It was death. Damien could feel his chest compress. He ripped his hand from Mia’s, covering his face with both of them, spiralling. “No.” The word was ripped out of him slowly, not a response, but a plea. Someone was holding his wrists, then, below where his raw skin was, and then Mia’s voice from beyond the wall of his forearms, “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay, Damien. Breathe. I’m with you. I’m with you,” the voice was saying, kept saying...

This whole chapter is supremely well written. It is realistic and addresses the topic of trauma and suicide in both a sensitive but direct manner. As a mental health clinician, the whole interview as depicted is brilliantly done.

It projected the same scenes in high definition. Damien trying to fit into the Salgado family, an obvious odd man out. The pain of pretending, of how stark the contrast would be between his nomad soul and their pack spirit. The way the unavoidable rejection would punch all the breath out of him.

You are the earth and you are the air. You are no more and no less than it. You have been filling yourself up with problems and fears. With I shoulds and shouldn’ts. But here, you see how simple it really is. You are the force of the raging river, the might of a mountain, the strength of a tree. You do not expect more or less from them than what they are. Their existence is enough. So is yours.

Suddenly, it made sense. It was almost a relief, really, to know exactly what he was worth. Not to be Hakan’s partner, or boyfriend, or husband, or mate. He was enough to be a friend. A casual fuck. No more than that. His place in Hakan’s life echoed almost exactly his relationship with the Salgados as a whole. He was worth being fostered, being taken care of, being loved, even, but not being an official member of the family. Of the pack.

Heartbreaking to feel the continued sense of not being worthy.

everybody has two wolves constantly fighting inside each of us. The negative wolf—the wolf that tells you that you’re bad, you can’t do it, you’re a failure. And the positive wolf, which tells you, you can do it. You are worthy. You are loved. “The wolf that wins is, very simply, the one you feed. When you indulge one of the wolves, leave it to go unchallenged, agree with it, don’t seek out evidence to oppose it, you feed it, and it grows stronger.