#I'VE BEEN DIAGNOSED FOR ALMOST TEN FUCKING YEARS
Text
wait what the fuck how the fuck have i only just found out that ADHD is a fucking ADA-recognized disability. I'm genuinely so fucking mad that it took me this long to be told that what the fuck
#echos#I'VE BEEN DIAGNOSED FOR ALMOST TEN FUCKING YEARS#AND NOT ONCE DID ANYONE TELL ME I AM FUCKING PROTECTED BY THE ADA#NOT FUCKING ONCE#IT TOOK UNTIL I WAS AN ADULT TO HEAR THAT ADHD IS EVEN A DISABILITY IN THE FIRST PLACE#AND IT TOOK UNTIL NOW TO KNOW THAT *I AM LEGALLY PROTECTED BY THE ADA*#fucking HELL i fucking DESPISE how little ADHD is treated seriously#it's just treated as 'fidgety kid disorder' and NOTHING MORE#when it literally FUNDAMENTALLY AFFECTS MY BRAINS ABILITY TO FUNCTION#we need to fucking rename ADHD so ppl actually start to realize how serious it is for the people actually EXPERIENCING it#not fucking how annoying it is for the neurotypicals around the ADHD person#fucking hell
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
hey guys, it's Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome Awareness Month
I've been living with this disease my entire life, it took me ten years after my initial questions to finally get diagnosed, only to find out I had a rare genetic disease with no cure, no treatment, a degenerative tendency that makes it harder to deal with every single day as your body gives out on you.
Please share this around and consider donating to fund research. The Ehlers-Danlos Society is a trusted entity that does almost monthly conferences and talks to explain in excruciating detail how EDS affects every aspect of your life from your heart function to your ability to work or even your risks during pregnancy and labour and how you're almost guaranteed to pass on this fucking curse to any child you suffer through birthing.
The EDS Society is super transparent about all the research they do and how your donations help, because it sure as fuck isn't gov funded research that cares about finding a solution for us. After all, it's a rare disease so if they find a cure, it won't make them a lot of money to give it to the couple thousands to dozens of thousands of us that live in every country.
For the entire month, I'll be doing simple portrait commissions to donate money to the research done by the EDS Society. If you want something in exchange for your donation, then either DM me or send me an email at [email protected] and provide references for your OC or fanart you'd like a portrait of. Check out my art tag to see my style or my pinned post for my commission info where there are examples as well.
If you also suffer from EDS, you can use May to tell your story, raise awareness, fundraise (you can even get a t-shirt from EDS Society if you raise $60 or more) and in general, help people know more about this, help families better care for their EDS loved ones, and be a positive impact on this community. Use the #MyEDSChallenge or #MyHSDChallenge (depending on your diagnosis) on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or Tiktok and the Society will reblog your stuff. There are also 31 prompts for you to post about, which you can find on the website. If you want to hear a little about my own story, I have an ehlers-danlos syndrome, disability, disability awareness and EDS hashtags on my blog for you to go through.
Again, reblogs are very much encouraged and appreciated. Please help raise awareness for this burden we have to live with, knowing our own community has to do its scientific research because no one cares about us.
#myedschallenge#eds awareness month#ehlers danlos syndrome#ehlers-danlos syndrome#eds#heds#hypermobile ehlers danlos#hypermobile eds#disability#disabled#disability awareness#mako talks
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Similar (NSFW)
Sangwoo x female reader
1722 words
TW: Smut, fingering, masturbation, dirty talk, kidnapping, mature language, cum, Sangwoo being himself, harsh words, slight abuse and begging.
If you are underage please don't read past this point.
Hazel had always kept to herself.
She didn't find comfort amongst other people as they always seemed to hurt her.
After she turned ten years old she couldn't say what happiness felt like as she felt like she was constantly under a storm.
Her parents didn't help as they didn't listen to her.
No one truly listened to her.
Sangwoo was the first.
They met in a park after she was let down by her boyfriend at the time again.
He sat next to her and right away she could feel the manipulative aura radiating off his perfect body.
When they started talking she knew he was hiding something almost instantly because he was acting too nice and polite.
No human that lived an ordinary life was as happy as he appeared to be.
After some time she realised that he was hiding something.
She realised when he drugged her and locked her up in a cold basement in her lace bra and panties and when he spoke to her after that something inside her became entranced as he saw the world like she did but that didn't mean he didn't frighten her.
It was late as Hazel sat in the basement with a blanket as she tried to preserve any body heat she had.
She said her head on her knees as she pushed her thighs into her chest.
Suddenly she heard the door open before the stairs that lead down to the basement creaked.
She heard shuffling as she lifted her head.
“I thought you were asleep my sweet kitten,” Sangwoo said.
“No.
I'm restless again” she said.
He walked to her before kneeling in front of her.
“Do you know why im down here?” he asked as they locked eyes.
She shook her head causing him to chuckle.
“You haven't been eating kitten” he said.
Her face dropped “Oh” she said before looking down.
“I told you that while you're here you will eat.
If not I'll punish you and you know how much I hate punishing you kitten” he said as he lifted her head.
“Every time I eat I throw up.
I've been trying” she said.
She had been diagnosed with an eating disorder at thirteen and at first it was to be skinny but then whenever she was stressed or dealing with something her body would reject food.
When she lived with her parents they would shove food down her throat and she knew that was what made everything get so much worse but she never told anyone.
“You should have told me.
I know I've been hard on you kitten.” he said.
He smiled softly causing her to melt “I've got something upstairs for you.
Something that will help you relax” he said.
“What is it?” she asked.
“If you go upstairs with me you’ll find out,” he said.
She looked at him before standing up slowly revealing how weak she was.
“That's it,” he said.
She kept the blanket around her body as she walked to the stairs.
She gripped the railing before slowly climbing the stairs as her legs trembled from her not walking for months.
She only went upstairs when he wanted to fuck her which she always got anxious over as he only wanted to have sex with her when he was angry or stressed and he wouldn't care about her.
She walked upstairs before hissing from the lights.
“Come on,” he said before placing his hands on her waist causing her heart to stop.
She walked where his hands were guiding her to before walking into the kitchen to see a nice dinner for two on the dining table with wine.
She froze as she lit up.
The nicest item of food he gave her was grilled cheese.
“Did you do all this?” she asked.
He kissed her shoulder “Yes.
All for you” he said before tearing the blanket from her body revealing her thin body with her bones starting to show throw her once curvy body.
He then walked away before walking back quickly.
“Leg up,” he said.
She looked over her shoulder.
“Leg up kitten,” he said again.
She lifted her leg up before lifting the other before feeling something being pulled up her body.
She looked down before seeing a flowy strapless dress.
He lifted it over her breasts before zipping it up.
He then turned her around before smirking.
“You look so hot kitten” he said causing her abdomen to heat up and tingle as her breathing quickened causing her breasts to push against the dress showing her cleavage.
He then walked away before pulling out a chair for her.
“Sit down kitten” he said.
She walked to him before sitting down.
He then poured her a glass of wine before sitting down across from her.
They began to eat as she watched him softly while rubbing her thighs together as he drank his wine or licked his lips.
He made her feel like a teenager while keeping her chained in a cold basement.
‘Normal’ people would say she was crazy and that she was too far gone to get help and maybe that was true but she didn't mind as no one made her feel the things Sangwoo made her feel when he was in a good mood.
An hour passed as she stood in front of the sink as she washed the dishes.
Her hands were like prunes as the hot water swallowed them.
She hummed softly as she smiled from dinner and the memories she made.
Suddenly she felt hands on her shoulders causing her the gasp before she turned around causing water to drip on the floor.
“Sorry for startling you kitten” he said.
“It's ok.
I'm just doing dishes” she said before turning around.
He suddenly grabbed her wrist causing her to freeze.
She turned around again “Leave them for tomorrow.
I want to spend time with you” he said.
“Ok,” she said.
He smiled before stuffing his head into her neck startling her.
“Sangwoo.
I thought you wanted to spend time with me” she said.
He looked at her “I want to spend time with you while I fuck you against the counter.
I saw that you were rubbing your thighs together during dinner you whore so you won't get to say no as you want me inside you kitten” he said as he trapped her against the counter.
“Sangwoo,” she said.
He suddenly placed his lips on hers causing her to gasp before kissing back.
He had never kissed her before but she always wished he would and now he was.
He wrapped his large hand around her thighs and dug his nails into her plush thighs leaving bruises and crescent shaped marks.
He suddenly lifted her onto the counter before looking at her.
He smiled “You're so pretty when your desperate kitten,” he said before sliding his hand up her thigh getting closer to where she needed him most.
She didn't want to admit that she was enjoying his roughness as that would make her as crazy as him.
She suddenly felt him move her panties to the side causing her to freeze “Sangwoo” she said causing him to lose all restraint left.
He ran his finger through her drenched folds as his cock threatens to break his trousers.
“You're so wet kitten.
Did I do that?” he asked.
“S-Stop” she said.
“Answer the question or i’ll leave you like this,” he said darkly.
She bit her lip “Yes” she said.
“That's what I thought now release your lip and scream for me” he said before slipping two fingers inside her causing her to gasp.
She then threw her head back “S-Stop” she said as she began to drip onto the counter.
“Your pretty pussy is saying something different,” he said as he curled his fingers causing her to scream out as her back arched.
He knew what spots would make her scream for him and it always made her dizzy.
“Fuck kitten.
You're so fucking tight.
I can't wait to fuck you until you are unconscious” he said as he unzipped his jeans.
Her toes curled as she gripped onto the counter.
He bit his lip as he took his rock-hard cock out of his precum-stained boxers before running his finger along his slit.
“Fuck kitten” he said as he had to stop himself from ramming into her.
His tip was a harsh red and he was so sensitive all because of her and the little things she did that made him lose all self-control.
He wrapped his hand around his cock and squeezed it causing him to moan as he started to harshly fuck her with his fingers wanting to get off to her lustful sounds.
“I'm close.
S-Sangwoo” she said as she gripped his wrist.
He continued to fuck her with his fingers as he jerked off fast wanting to cum when she did so he could fuck his cum into her and test her birth control.
“I'm close kitten and im gonna cum on your pretty pussy so I can fuck my cum into you and coat your walls with my kids” he said as his body tensed.
She screamed out harshly as she got closer and closer to her release.
The knot in her abdomen was so tight as she became drunk off him and what he did to her.
Suddenly the knot broke open causing her to scream as she came on his fingers.
He helped her ride through it as he continued to jerk off in front of her.
Suddenly he moaned loudly as his cum shot onto her sensitive pussy she moaned from the feeling before looking at him.
He looked at her pussy as he pressed his tip against her entrance before drawing circles around her pulsing entrance as her body begged for more.
“Please” she said.
“Please what kitten?” he asked as he pretended to not be more desperate than she was.
“Please fuck me.
Fill me up” she said.
He looked at her before kissing her causing him to taste to lust on her tongue.
At first she was a plaything but now she was the woman he was falling for and in that moment she was no longer his prisoner.
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
I don't have any other place to properly vent, so I'll do that here lmao
putting it under read more bc it'll get a bit lengthy
So I've always struggled with maintaining a job. I always get anxious and stressed, enough to get bad panic attacks and not being able to work at all. My whole adulthood has been like that - a struggle to get by, childhood traumas weighing me down even more. I was diagnosed with depression in 2015, but I always felt it was a wrong diagnosis.
And working has been a struggle. Always. I've tried retail, cleaning and various other things, but I still get too stressed, overstimulated and anxious that even going to work makes me feel sick.
All of this got an answer when I was finally diagnosed with ADHD and autism last year. It explained everything - why I've always felt out of place and why it's so hard for me to work.
But despite that, despite knowing it, it feels like everything's worse. I know now that I'll never be able to work full-time. I can barely handle a four-day week with six hours a day. Even that feels too much. And at the place I'm currently interning at, it's as stress free as it can be. I've also been promised to get hired for at least 10 months, if all goes as planned, but it's not certain yet.
Even if I do get hired, my salary won't be big, and I'll still be struggling. This job isn't permanent, so after that ten months, I'm falling back to the same hell I managed to get out of. There isn't work fitting for me in the area where I live, and I can't move to another city, bc it too would mess up with my mental health.
At this point it would almost be the best to stop even trying to work, to try to get a fucking pension or something. Because I can't keep doing this for the next 30+ years until my retirement age. And I sure as hell won't ever be able to work like "normal" people. I've tried that for years, and I just haven't been built like that.
I'm constantly sick with anxiety because of money and how I can survive, and I'm so fucking tired with absolutely everything rn
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
mad about the adderall shortage again. i mean it's hard not to be, considering adderall is part of my daily fucking life.
i'm honestly curious if there's a case to be made that the DEA's decision to keep the supply below demand is a violation of the ADA. it's infuriating that they can make this decision on grounds that ADHD diagnoses have increased when the decision affects people who have been managing a disability with this medication for years. to say nothing of whether newly diagnosed people are somehow less deserving of treatment. but it feels like a profound "fuck you" to me, a person who has been doing medication management for almost ten years, getting meds through a system that already makes it far from easy (especially considering the nature of the disability), and staying on the same dosage for over five years, to suddenly have (more) trouble getting access to something that makes it possible for me to be a functioning member of society.
hitting a wall in high school due to undiagnosed, untreated adhd was one of the worst parts of my life. i thought i was stupid and lazy and that i would be like that forever because i had already tried so hard to modify my habits after reading tons of self help about how to make myself do things. it was agonizing to know i had both the desire and aptitude to do cool stuff but i had little control over steering myself to actually do it. nowadays, thinking about spending any extended period of time without adhd meds, even if i was on vacation or something, makes me want to die. getting treated for adhd has been a long road and i've come so far, but it's still easy for all that work to vanish if i lose access to the drugs that help my brain do something that everyone else's already does.
i know i don't even have it that bad. in fact, i'm extremely privileged to have had the support to get diagnosed, medicated, and to have gone through talk therapy for the six or so years it took for me to untangle all the damage i had done to myself by using harmful coping mechanisms—which essentially involved giving myself severe anxiety—to "motivate" myself to do things without meds. i had the privilege to get the psych eval required by my university to get any disability accommodations, and the privilege to see a therapist who actually gave a shit about me but who wasn't covered by my insurance. being disabled is fucking expensive, and this isn't even close to some of the more expensive disabilities.
which is why it makes me all the more furious to think of those who don't have the insane luck i do who can't get access to the things that helped turn my life into one worth living. and then to think that for those with luck like mine, after all the time, money, and despair, some people are getting diagnoses that finally explain why something as simple as getting out of bed every day can feel like a herculean task... and some faceless government agency has decided there are too many of us and it would be better if we didn't get the most effective treatment available for a condition with no cure.
fuck you DEA one million years. thanks for nothing.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
One thing I hate about having seizures young is how much it fucks with you. See every seizure ruins your brain, just a tiny tiny bit, usually not enough to notice. Of course it depends on where they're located (temporal and frontal being the worst because they control just about everything) and how often you have them.
I got diagnosed when I was about nine or ten, while my brain was still developing, and at the time seizure meds weren't working well because my body kept building a tolerance. Some people are lucky, first med and dosage and they're set for life, most people aren't. Four different neurologists, six different meds, and two types of epilepsy and I didn't get them under control for about ten years.
Sometimes I'd go months without them, a few times I'd go a year, but sometimes they were weekly, monthly. It fucking sucked as you can imagine, what's worse is it all happened before I even turned 18. I was so bad at school because my memory was shot, sure I have some things, but a lot of the more numerical and math-ish stuff I couldn't retain. Then I developed temporary nystagmus, which no one believed I had until about two years ago because it wasn't constant. My neurologist said it it was an optometrist issue and my optometrist said it was a neurologist issue.
Fifth grade I had my first seizure, not a single teacher helped accommodate after that, kept falling further and further behind until it was so bad that in 11th grade I could hardly do my schoolwork. From having seizure destroy my still developing brain, to being overwhelmed and having to retake classes and all the other neuro bullshit besides seizures going on in my head.
I ended up dropping out and I regret that decision constantly. I wished I could do my work, wished I could pass my classes but nothing I tried worked. Eventually my seizure got so bad I just had to leave.
I'm better now for the most part, the brain can rebuild, but a lot of stuff just didn't get fixed. The biggest being my memory.
We never figured out what triggered my seizures, but my current meds keep the grand mal ones at bay.
A lot of people never really think of seizures past the dropping on the ground and shaking, maybe being sore after, but it's a lot more. Your brain is literally electrocuting itself, destroying brain tissue. I've had seizures that have given me concussions, left me covered in bruises, vomited during them, I've been unable to walk for almost a week because the muscle pain is so bad even on muscle relaxers. I've bitten so many chunks of my tongue off that it's jagged, can't eat when I do and can hardly talk because of how bad it is. Sometimes I think about how I could just bite my tongue off, I'd bleed out and die. Obviously your head hurts, but if you've ever had a migraine, an actual migraine not a headache you're saying is a migraine, it's double that pain at least.
There's so much more but this got long just, if you know someone has seizures, and maybe they can't remember things, have a hard time with faces or spelling, maybe talk a bit funny, don't call it out. Trust me, they know.
#this might be the first time im publicly mentioning dropping out because im real fucking ashamed of it#its 3 am and ill regret writing this#it got real long#i actually had another type of seizure before grand mal#my fifth grade teacher was the one who helped figure it out#they're called absence seizures#you sort of 'zone out'#say im talking and in the middle of the sentence i just stop and stare for a bit (time can vary) then pick right up like nothing happened#she noticed i was doing it a lot in class#i should stop now#i lost the thread and went overboard#don't mind me#epilepsy#long post#sort of
21 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, so I just want to give my own two cents regarding his reaction to this. It's not exactly the same situation but I genuinely do feel like Colby and I kind of have a similar personality when it comes to things like this in regards to like, how we handle potentially emotional situations or crises so here we go:
I had a breast cancer scare when I was 20, so almost ten years ago. In the end, it didn't end up being cancer but it did take me about two weeks to find out for sure and I had a very similar reaction at least to that part. I felt this overwhelming sense of peace about the whole situation, I was mentally ready to hear doctors tell me I had cancer. I was extremely calm. So calm that my dad thought I wasn't taking it seriously and had to be pulled aside by my mother to tell him to cool his attitude around me because it wasn't helping the situation. It wasn't a denial thing, I was fully aware of what was happening but it was very much a similar idea of 'I can either drown myself in this reality or accept that this is (or in my case, might be) my reality and work from there.'
I will say, this type of reaction typically comes from people who are a little more stunted emotionally - and I fully admit that I kind of am - and does sometimes involve putting up a front so people don't worry about you but it's also not the completely negative/red flag a lot of people seem to view it as. I've had many friends/family over the years tell me that I'm the best person to have around during a crisis strictly because that's my reaction to events like that. It doesn't mean we don't feel things, we do. We just push it down until we feel we're in a spot to allow ourselves to feel it.
I would wager he is probably kinda disturbed by the whole situation behind the scenes or even on his own when he's alone at night. When I had my biopsy to collect samples so they could determine if it was in fact cancer, that bitch of a bruise turned every color imaginable and I cried every night while changing the bandage cause it was so damn ugly for a while but I never showed that part of myself to people, they didn't need to see it. Again, positives and negatives to having that type of personality I suppose, and again, this is just me assuming he has a similar personality to me when it comes to this but that was my (totally not the same) experience and the reaction I had to it.
first off, i just wanted to thank you for sharing your story. and also, i'm so happy to hear that it wasn't cancer in the end.
as for colby, i do agree with you that i think you and him are similar in this vain. in the past colby has mentioned (and it's been obvious as someone who's been a fan of him for so long) that he is a bit… emotionally stunted. colby himself also said during the livestream last night "either i could cry and be upset about this, or i can be proactive about it." my dad was very similar when he was first diagnosed. he took it better than my mother did. he was just like "okay… what's the next step?" and he remained positive pretty much the whole time during his first battle with it.
and personally, i can understand wanting to remain calm and logical about all of this. take it one day at a time, accept that this is just how things are now, and move forward with the best plan. to be honest, i'm totally okay and happy to some extent that he is so positive about this. bc it does fill me with hope that if he truly believes he's gonna be okay, then he really is gonna be okay.
my fear is that a) he's ignoring his emotions or b) god forbid if it were to get worse, he's not gonna know how to handle it bc he never handled this first time. i think both things can be true - you can be proactive and logical, and you can be upset and cry. emotions will demand to be felt in one way or another, regardless of if you want them to be or not. and i get it, i think rn especially he just wants to reassure fans and make sure we're alright (which is fucking insane to me bc…. it's his health, it's not like this is immediately affecting us). and i'm happy he cares enough about us to want to make sure we're okay. but i hope he knows that if he does feel like shit, or needs time away bc he's emotional, that is 1000% valid. no one would fault him for feeling that way. it's not weak to feel scared or sad.
and if he wants to do that all behind closed doors, of course. i get that. i don't expect him to cry on camera or anything. i just want him to know that it's okay if he's upset about all of this. he's allowed to be.
i just want him to be okay. and if okay looks like crying and being upset some days, then that's what it is. if it looks likes being super positive and uplifting, then let it be that. or let it be both.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
I left my house for the first time in a month today. It wasn't until I got home that I realized my cats weren't gonna be there to greet me. Even after I realized that I couldn't stop myself from waiting to see if they'd come running to me and from trying to block the doorway, so they wouldn't run out into the hall.
They didn't, of course, and tomorrow it will be two weeks since they've been gone. And I still hate myself so much for having failed them. Because they weren't happy with me. I failed to make them happy even when I was trying to do everything right. Then I started to resent them because of the asthma attacks and the migraines and the insomnia and agoraphobia. I was convinced that they hated me, and that's when I knew they shouldn't stay with me anymore.
Because when I was growing up, I knew that my mom hated me and I used to wish every day that she'd get me as far away from her as possible. I deserved better and so do those cats. I miss them so much, though.
I dream about them. I keep having dreams that they'll come home to me. They won't and they shouldn't. Not right now. I wish that they could, but......Even just the stupid fucking vacuum costs almost $200USD and that doesn't even include extra vacuum bags. Bagless vacuums are terrible for asthmatics, it turns out, and that's part of why I've been so sick.
And in case you're wondering why I didn't already know that it's because I was only diagnosed with asthma last year even though I've never been able to run more than ten feet without wheezing. Just good old fashioned childhood neglect😂 So there's a lot I've been doing wrong without even realizing it.
I miss my babies, though, and I swear to fuck the first person who comments or whatever on this saying, "Cats aren't babies," will get blocked. I can't fucking have biological kids, and frankly I don't want them because I already raised my brother and I've been raising my sister for the past eighteen fucking years. Cause that's the beauty of motherfucking parentification, and it's exhausting and I'm over it.
So anyone who has a problem with me saying my cats are/were my babies can go fuck themselves. I don't care.
And I don't care if you hate me because I dislike Chuck Palahniuk or because I'm an anti-capitalist that hates selfish people or republicans or centrist assholes. Or because I have unresolved trauma that I project sometimes. Or because I have a fucking victim complex that I can't seem to overcome because it seems pretentious to think of myself as a survivor instead.
I don't care if you hate me because I can absolutely guarantee that I hate myself even more.
#my life#life update#adulthood#adulting#ptsd#actually ptsd#agoraphobia#actually agoraphobic#mental health#neurodivergent#actually neurodivergent
1 note
·
View note
Text
i tell her not to wear jeans on the day of the surgery, because no-one told me. no, not even comfortable ones. they'll be a bitch to put on and horrible to move in.
my friends are always shocked about my health problems, it's so much, and yet i can't really get that to settle into my head because for my whole life my family has treated like there's not really anything wrong. i'm just being dramatic. it's just in my head. i should be able to do everything everyone else does, or i'm just being lazy.
do you know how fucked up that is? i'm 28 and i learned last year what actually counts as a fever. how serious angina is. (did you know you can get myocarditis if you don't rest enough when/after you're sick? because i didn't. my parents sent me on a field trip to a water park when i was on my second or third respiratory infection of the month). i definitely didn't stay home from school. i biked everywhere, with my untreated asthma and my chronic throat infections.
i only recently learned how the things i struggled with as a kid were actually supposed to be treated.
(no, it's not homeopathics and more exercise).
i remember being ten, or nine, or something like that, and learning my friend's family had medicinal cough drops. i didn't know they existed. every winter my hands dried so badly the skin would crack and bleed and the idea of using hand cream didn't even occur to me. i knew hand cream existed - it just didn't occur to me that i could do something about this. i remember telling my mom it hurt and she would just say - it is what it is.
same thing she said about my period pain, which turned out to be endometriosis 7 years later. when i had headaches, she told me to exercise. turned out to be migraines, ten years later. exercise is just about the worst thing you can do when having a migraine.
i've gotten all my diagnoses as an adult after seeking help myself, for problems that have been there for years but nobody bothered to do anything about.
and it's just - i know i have all these health problems. real health problems. and it still feels like - well it's not serious. it's not really much of anything. sure, i sometimes almost faint in the shower, but it's not really a problem because it could be worse. sure, my smart watch is constantly alerting me that my heart rate is too high, but it's not dangerous. sure, i need to get regular blood draws and i can't stand up too fast and i need daily medication and i'm in pain most days but i'm basically healthy, right. it's nothing serious.
i'm just being dramatic. right?
0 notes
Note
I just saw a tiktok (link not working) that said something like "when I started going to therapy for depression and anxiety and it turned out to be autism and all the things people hated about me couldn't be fixed" and that just fucking hit hard.
Like I had a similar experience. I've been in and out of therapy since I was ten years old for anxiety related issues, that's when I was diagnosed with OCD. The first time I went to a therapist and they suggested I might have autism was when I was fourteen. And everyone around me insisted so hard that I could be fixed, I could be cured, that I just wasn't trying hard enough. And it kind of sucks to think about.
Yeah I've been thinking about this a lot. Because as much as I don't want a "cure" because you can't seperate me from my autism, it is annoying how so much of our issues aren't fixable without completely changing society. And most therapists don't understand how to treat autistic trauma or depression and anxiety in us because it comes strictly from being autistic in a neurotypical world and the way we're treated. And that's not exactly going away any time soon.
I am almost a little jealous of nds who have "fixable" illnesses because I'm gonna be like this forever. I'm gonna struggle forever, for the rest of my life. And that kinda sucks.
But there is something freeing about knowing it's not your fault. When the CBT fails. And all the anti depressants fail. The anti anxiety meds. The mediation and mindfulness. The everything.
It's not on you. Your brain just works differently.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Hey, how are ya? I'm Grace. It's nice to meet you.
I'm "an adult." (Please imagine me using air quotes here. Because I am.) It is consistently wild to me that I am 37. I have no idea how I got to be 37 without noticing, nor who I can hold responsible for this oversight. I'm only slightly more capable than a lot of the teenagers I've met, and I can't figure out if that's more of a laughable overstatement or an insult to teenagers.
Somehow, I've managed to accomplish a lot of the "major milestones of adulthood", at least the ones I was raised by Boomers to believe were important: I'm married, I own a house, each of us has our own vehicle that we own outright, I have a yard with a fence and a couple pets. I stay home while my opposite-gendered spouse works fulltime, and tend to the chores and the meal and various domestic things of that nature. I'm fairly certain that the only "major milestone" I haven't accomplished is parenthood and I'm doing everything in my power to keep it that way because, all economic and societal issues of being a late-stage American aside, I really shouldn't be trusted to raise anything more dependent than a housecat.
But the truth is? I'm a mess.
I want to be clear here, I'm not a hot mess. The term "hot mess" sounds like a cute, social media influencer sort of thing, something that comes with heavily-filtered photos in full makeup with a caption deriding their perfectly-mussed hair, and bubble baths, and yoga, and succulents, and keto-friendly gluten-free vegan green smoothies, and inspirational platitudes on landscape photos. The kind of hot mess that sounds suspiciously like humble-bragging and fishing for compliments. Just between us, I wish I was that kind of a mess.
No, no. I'm the kind of mess that has half an alphabet's worth of mental health diagnoses, and hasn't had a job in almost a year, and descends into an anxiety spiral every time I have to socialize with anyone I'm not actively married to, and has an emotional meltdown any time I even seriously consider reentering the job market. I'm the kind of mess that someone would stage an intervention for because my life is eerily similar to an A&E reality-drama, excepting for the fact that I don't have anything to detox from. To be totally honest, I almost wish I had a crippling substance-abuse issue because then all my problems would have a neat and tidy justifying explanation. "Neat and tidy" is neither a phrase nor a concept that can be applied to me.
I'm such a mess, I've decided to start a blog. Not a blog about being a mess necessarily, but I do have a sneaky suspicion that being a mess is going to play heavily into the content I create here.
I started a blog because a lot of my life, but the last ten years specifically, has been basically nonstop wall-to-wall insanity. And I'm still riding the wave with no land in sight, so considering that what I'm mostly doing is surviving, I don't have a lot of headspace for anything that isn't directly related to my problems.
So who the fuck am I, anyway? Great question.
I'm an agnostic homeschooled survivor of seven years of adolescent romantic partner emotional abuse. I'm a third generation ADHD sufferer but the first generation to get an official diagnosis, and I might be on the autism spectrum but I haven't really cared enough yet to find out for sure. I'm a seventeen year service industry veteran/washout. I'm the sole emotional- and lifestyle-support person for my extremely-rurally-isolated aging mentally ill neurodivergent parent with Prolonged Grief Disorder after the six-year wasting cancer death of my mother/his wife of 39 years 11 months 2 weeks and 3 days. I live with CPTSD, BFRBD, OCD, GAD, and MDD, and I've got the paper trail to prove it. Excepting a three month gig building pallets at a local warehouse, I've been out of work since the summer of 2021 when eighteen straight months of pandemic bartending, in a conservative area, for the third-in-a-row toxic business owner finally caught up with me. It all compounded with the past I hadn't yet dealt with in what amounted to a derecho of emotional fallout, and I had a nervous breakdown.
Or at least what I've decided to call a nervous breakdown, because it turns out that the term "nervous breakdown" is awfully hard to nail down with specifics. "Breakdown" is one of those words that gets thrown around a lot and conjures up a very specific Hollywood image, but that nobody will actually clearly define for you. After spending months fretting about whether or not I could classify what was going on with me as "a breakdown", I just decided one day that I was, and I haven't looked back since.
The internet tells me that if I want to be a writer, I should write about something I'm extremely well versed in. Something I know backwards and forwards, inside and out, something I can extemporize about with confidence and knowledge. Something I've put a lot of time into, something I know better than anything else.
So here I am, starting this blog. Talking about the one project that has more of my manhours than all of my other projects put together: myself.
I recently decided I'd like to give this whole writing thing a proper shot, you see. I've always written in one form or another, it comes easy for me and it's one of the only skills I have that I can acknowledge with any level of pride. My loved ones even tell me I'm good at it sometimes. Eventually, what I really want to do is to be able to write stuff and have someone pay me for it. I legitimately don't even care what it is I'd be writing, my only goal is to get paid for it.
But, see, the problem is that I have to get used to writing first. Like, get a real good feel for it. Do it a lot. Practice, I think they call it? Foreign concept for the ADHD sufferer but I think I'm vaguely familiar with the general idea. Maybe in the future I'll have something to write about that isn't how absolutely fucking insane it is to live inside my skull right now. Actually, I hope I do. That would be nice.
But in the interim, I really just have to focus on the whole business of actually writing stuff. Like this post, for example, which is going to get posted unedited because my executive dysfunction has decided we're Bored Of It Now TM so forcing any more thought and effort into it is really only going to make it worse and strip all the personality out of it. ("Personality." Yeah that's a good word for it.) The important thing to remember here, myself I'm talking to you please pay attention, is that I sat my ass down and I wrote it.
And, I'm gonna do it again.
Soon.
Yes, that is a threat.
Join me, won't you?
1 note
·
View note
Text
I hate university I hate what it’s doing and has done to me
#things really are looking hopeless!#the second I get a good routine down it's all 'ok uni starts tomorrow I've enrolled you in classes' and I just#never got with it#also I never actually gave my m*ther permission to do that so#god knows what'll happen#I know I'm going insane being in my room all the time but at least it's somewhat comfortable and I'm not privy to strangers#which at the uni I am very much in pain and unfocused within two hours and everyone can see me and I feel like I don't belong at all#well since I don't#but nine times out of ten if I want to eat and not get screamed at every five minutes because I'm only useful as a packhorse for an old hag#apparently#well that's where I have to be#I don't WANT to structure my entire life around being at uni five days a week for eight or nine hours#I would rather be working an actual job but we all know I'm not fucking employable#make up your mind am I too disabled to be working or am I not disabled at all and need to stop self diagnosing???#you insist that even if the academic content isn't for me it's for new life experiences like I didn't get the same life experiences at hs#or at college#I might as well off myself and give YOU the ten thousand of debt I already seem to be in#it's not that much it's probably only six thousand at most but if I keep going like this I'll be in that much#if things went according to the plans I never made because I simply didn't know where the fuck to start I would've been out of here#almost a year ago#but y'know a pandemic just stole a year of my life I will never get back for you it was just another year because#you have spent a decade at that place doing the same few subjects#think about the fact that you're starting to force me to do the same! I don't WANT to waste my life spending every day in that place#I don't care this is supposed to make me look better as a person like you'll let me have a job like I'll ever amount to anything#I remember you telling me to do better in school to prove the toad wrong#you're telling me the same now#well in high school you simply wouldn't help me with any of my work! at all!#not helped by the fact that school kinda tossed me to the side despite the fact with the right attention I would've been as good as their#precious little 'highest achievers'#you won't help me now when I ask 'please if you want me to be here just give me some help I don't know what I'm doing'
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
I am not diagnosed but I'm trying to see if I have adhd, doing as much research as I can. Problem is I'm 17, a girl and woc and from what I've been seeing, it seems almost impossible to get a diagnosis. I was hoping you could help me. God, this is way too long I'm really sorry to bother you. You don't have to answer if yoh don't want to
Some of the symptoms I feel like I may be experiencing are:
1. Hyperfixations: the most recent one I can think of is star wars, specifically one ship. I got into it in April 2020 and boy, I am obsessed for the lack of a better word. I literally of it when I wake up, when I go to bed and all the moments in between.
I (this is embarrassing omg) literally didn't attend a single class this year because I can't stop thinking of that ship enough to focus. I have an exam today, and I still can't stop reading fics or scrolling through ship twitter instead of preparing. Maybe I'm just lazy? Idk man I don't even have friends so idek what is normal and what is not anymore.
And I seemed to have hyperfixations throughout my life. It was Percy Jackson till 9th grade. Then AOT till 11th. And before that, dinosaurs and science of all things. I would literally buy notebooks to write science and dinosaur facts in. I only have one thing i am attached to for months at a time. To the point where if people ask me what fandoms I like I can't even give more than two or three because that's all I consume. I can't watch another show or read another book without feeling like I'm somehow cheating on star wars lmaoo
2. Focus is a big thing. I don't have it. I remember with physical exams I would have to stop in between because the focus would slip away, and I'd just spend a good ten minutes staring at my paper not taking anything in because my thoughts are too loud. With Internet exams, I'm more accustomed to having tumblr, twitter and reddit open for when I inevitably lose focus. Studying is a struggle. Fuck that, reading is a struggle. Often not able to get past one or two sentences without immediately feeling irritated (?) Not the right word but I can't think of anything to describe the fuzziness in my brain.
I daydream a lot in physical class and while eating and watching movies. And when I try to sleep. And when I'm in waiting rooms or trying to study. Literally everywhere to the point where I often forget they're in my head.
3. I am very forgetful. Fuck, i forgot what the things on this list are. I forgot to take my medicines. I forget what I'm saying half way through the sentence. Literally a pain in my ass.
4. Idk if this just stress or something else, but ever since I was a child I would suck my thumb (still do), bite my nails, pick at my skin and hair. I would pull my hair and eyelashes qnd eyebrows. Rubs my skin. Scratch till it's bleeding. I feel very horrible if I don't do it.
5. Xakwdlkdkalkdadkod I literally can not remember I had a whole list figured out and I can't remember it anymore because I got distracted in between oh god.
6. Oh wait, restlessness. Always shaking my legs or ripping up tissue or tapping my fingers, picking at my body or sucking my thumb. Anything to keep my occupied. Without any sort of physical activity i feel very fuzzy. Like somethings not right.
7. I've heard about rsd and idk if this is it but I'm literally the type of person to overexplain and apologise quickly even if the other person gave no indication of being hurt.
My mother could ask me how my studies are going and I get very defensive and angry because I feel like she's trying trying imply I'm not studying enough even though that's not her intent.
I'm sorry for going on for too long. I hope you can help me figure out if this is normal or not. Thank you so much and I hope you and your family are safe, healthy and happy.
Unfortunately, you’re right that it’s harder for both girls and POC to get ADHD diagnoses. Even though both sexes show equal numbers of people with ADHD, it goes under-diagnosed in AFAB individuals.
But everything you just described sounds exactly like ADHD, yeah. The Neurotypical brain doesn’t fixate on things like that (not to the point of skipping loads of classes and it being all they can think about, anyway.)
And the one about sucking your thumb sounds like stimming, something neurodivergent people do.
150 notes
·
View notes
Note
for blorbo bingo. alain. :3
WE GOT A BINGO
— First of all, I actually love Alan's outfit. It looks comfy af and I would definitely wear all of it, except possibly the scarf. I don't really like things around my neck very often—I'm very picky about it—so the scarf might be uncomfy. But the rest? He wears baggy clothes and layers. He gets me.
— Okay I know it sounds arrogant to say "everyone but me is wrong about him" but listen, I've had to be captain of the Alan Defense Squad for so long and it's so tiring, and then there are the people who want to romo ship him with the ten-year-old girl who is made to act and look more like the six-year-old on the main cast than the other ten-year-olds despite the fact that he is at least fifteen and I just . . . I'm very, very picky about how he's portrayed, let's just say that. :')
— He is a Blorbo Supreme, one of the most blorbos ever.
— Honestly could probably go for most characters in the PokéAni, but it especially goes for Alan because a lot of what he's thinking and feeling is conveyed more in facial expressions, musical cues, and wordless flashbacks (or sometimes wordless meetings, like when he bowed to Sycamore and then walked off at the Kalos League orientation; he was apologizing and then separating himself because he didn't want Sycamore to be hurt for associating with him!). He's suffered a lot of trauma and has a lot that he's dealing with and is so much more than people want to give him credit for, especially the people who never bothered to watch TSME (which just drives me crazy because the entire reason TSME was created was to show Alan's story because they didn't have time in the main series, but then people didn't watch it and I just—do not get me started). There's just a lot to him.
— I will fully admit that when I watched TSME / the Kalos league, I was also finally being diagnosed with C-PTSD for my own complex trauma and so when I saw Alan I was like, "Same hat!" (Or, uh, "same disorder!") I also fully relate to having a platonic soulmate who is not human and also being willing to go to almost any lengths to protect / help those you care about, so . . . we've got a lot in common, him and I.
— There are certain people in the PokéAni fandom (*cough*AshStans*cough*) who have been shitting on Alan for SIX FUCKING YEARS because they can't get over his JUSTIFIED victory in the Kalos League, and they've only been worse and will no doubt be even worse ever since the Masters 8 lineup was announced. I don't drink alcohol, but god I feel like I will need some before all this is over.
— I understand that he got a whole four part special, that he got numerous flashbacks before his official appearance in the main series, that he made cameos in a couple movies, that he played a HUGE part in the Kalos series finale etc, and that he's coming back in the Masters 8. However. It is still not enough screen time. 😤
— I'm mentally ill in general actually, but I will fully admit that for my own mental health and sanity I just started liberally blocking people who shit on him years ago and to this day I still insta-block for that nonsense. :') There's just no point in trying to talk to those people and it affects me negatively to see him be shit upon for trauma responses (e.g. freezing when the shit with Flare first goes down, having difficulties with emotional regulation etc), so I just choose not to see it and block instead.
— Specifically, the dynamic with Lizardon. I love Alan for himself of course, but full disclosure that if he wasn't platonic soulmates with Lizardon I probably would not have latched as hard onto him as I did. He cuddles and snuggles with Lizardon so much, they smile with each other and communicate clearly with each other and hug and battle and walk the same path together and I 🥺no lie I have blocked people for suggesting he should release / have Lizardon taken from him before. I love the relationships he has with human characters as well (Sycamore in particular, but also Manon and Ash, and I'm curious if he's kept in contact with Steven), but his relationship with Lizardon is the most important. It is the core of everything. Do not separate them.
— Okay, so Alan has obviously made mistakes, as in, he should have never trusted Lysandre to begin with, but also, he was a young teenager (I hc him as 13 when Lysandre pulled him in), I think it's Suspicious that Lysandre just ~happened~ across Sycamore's mega evolution assistant at those ruins where Alan had ~mysteriously~ gotten a tip about there being a mega stone there (i.e. I think Lysandre had been stalking him for some time and set that trap), and if you consider the possibility that Alan was an orphan that Sycamore took in, and that Alan potentially felt grateful for Sycamore being there for him, and then Lysandre (who was able to thrash little charmeleon Lizardon in a battle) was like, "he'll be in danger and hurt if you involve him so you cannot or else you are putting him in danger, but I can help you protect him instead" . . . yeah it makes sense to me that Alan, age 13, would lack the reasoning ability and life experience to say "no" to that deal. I think most of the heroic characters in the series, actually, would do the same. So like, yes he made a mistake, but also I understand why he made the mistake and he did it with the best of intentions (protecting his father-figure + improving the world with peaceful means using the mega evolution energy), so I don't hold that against him too much. Similarly, yeah, shouting at Manon wasn't the best behavior, but he had tried to end their partnership peacefully multiple times (leaving her behind, telling her calmly to leave, pointing out he never gave her the OK to follow him, etc), and she kept pushing. I don't approve of him shouting at her, per se, but I understand why it got to that point. I, too, have snapped and yelled in the past when I've been pushed and emotionally overwhelmed (as he was at that point), especially when I was younger and hadn't had any therapy / been taught any tools for dealing with my C-PTSD and emotional dysregulation (hell, when I was fifteen, I was worse tbh; I'm not proud of that, but it's true). So again, he has made mistakes, but I understand them, and considering the mountains of shit he gets from this fandom for things that were not his fault at all (such as, you know, winning a fucking pokémon battle), I'm willing to give him more leeway for his mistakes because it's not like anyone else is giving him leeway for the shit that he shouldn't even be blamed for. 😤If one person in this world loves Alan, then I am that person etc etc
#blorbo bingo#transminimoffs#champion alan#this is super long but listen. i am super passionate#i just love him so much with all my heart and always will ♥
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok so yesterday I (kind of unexpectedly) had a meltdown at work. (It had been building up but I ignored it for a while bc I haven't had one in almost a year.)
My coworkers know I am autistic and have already shown their acceptance and support when I was nonverbal or being overstimulated, and my boss (I hate calling him that. To me he's just Philipp) recognised I was having a bad time and managed to kind of hide me and help me calm down a little, but it was an overall bad situation.
Especially because he said he'd bring me home and then his girlfriend walked with us and asked him to go shopping, saying she could bring me home as well. I can barely understand what she means at the best of times as she has weird facial expressions and always sounds cross, so I disliked it.
Anyway I now made a ten page PowerPoint presentation in our work cloud which I will present to them about dealing with me in these situations so that they can actually help and not worsen it by accident.
The thing is, I'm self-diagnosed. My mother was antivaxx and since I wasn't vaccinated until I was 18 and living on my own it was "impossible for me to be autistic", so she wrote me off as a weird child. I have decided to not get an official diagnosis until after I have started transitioning because I've heard the stories. I know that being diagnosed with autism makes it almost impossible to be diagnosed with gender incongruence.
I am scared as fuck man.
One day I won't be working there anymore (and that day is somewhen in next march) and I am so scared that whoever my future bosses and coworkers are, that they won't believe me.
I mean I can call myself lucky tho, can't I? Most self-diagnosed autistic people probably have it worse at their places of work. I still can't help but worry, tho.
#dont rb this#i mean why would you anyway#if i wasnt so scared of death i think id really see it as the easier option#leaf posts#kdct#autism#actually autistic
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you help me? I've never heard of fictives, and introjects before, but I strongly identify with it. I like to see myself as Deidara, but I am myself too, it's hard to explain.. And I ship Sasodei with all my heart, I love to see them together! But I love Sasori so much! He's my comfort character, and if I could make him real I'd love to be with him, marry him literally, but I'd marry him not as myself, but myself as Deidara. Does that make me a fictive/introject? Sorry if I don't make sense
i was wondering when i was gonna get a question like this. In short: No, what you’re describing is a lot more adjacent to fictionkin.
A fictive/fictional introject is a type of alter in a DID or OSDD system. “Fictional introject” is the technical term for it, and “fictive” is the shorthand. So you’ll see me use them interchangeably. If you don’t have DID or OSDD-1a or 1b, you cannot have fictives. A lot of people compare it to kinning but like, Extreme Mode, and I understand why people do this, but it’s really not the same thing. It doesn’t help that there was a phase in time where the kin community was trying to appropriate the terms of people with DID/OSDD and tried to act like it was the same thing when it’s not.
So basically, what I have is a serious psychiatric condition. I have Dissociative Identity Disorder (I’m professionally diagnosed, in case anyone wants to give me hell about it), and I’m an alter that... is Deidara. that’s just who i am. I’m this brains iteration of Deidara. I’m not just a fictionkin who identifies with Deidara in one way or another. That is just literally objectively who I am. I originally split off as a protector for the old host, since she did kin me (but she didn’t really realize she did at the time bc she was like... 10 and didn’t know that was a thing but looking back we’re like “yeah lmao u totally kinned me”) and saw me as a “stronger version of herself”, and she was going through a LOT of messy shit at the time. since then, ive moved on to being the primary host.
In case anyone doesn’t know this: the concept of an “original person” isn’t always something someone with DID or OSDD has, and who the host is can change over time. The “host” alter is just the alter who fronts the most and kinda has the most control of the systems life at the time. That’s me! that’s what i do anymore. I used to consistently cohost with the old host for the most part of almost ten years, but something happened in the last year that made her kinda. step down. and now this hell brain is MY fuckhouse lmao.
That all being said, most of us in this system have spiritual beliefs, and the old host particularly hardcore identified as a Pagan and witch. She believed we did collectively have past lives and I was one of them, and I do kinda find comfort in that thought sometimes? i’m not nearly as much of a spiritual person to the same extent as her, but like. i like the thought. not everyone here agrees that they were in some sort of past life of the body tho.
But yeah, what you’re describing sounds 1000% like fictionkin, which is a WHOLE other can of worms. There’s so many fucking ways people describe what kinning is anymore that I don’t even know what to tell you lmao. Some people kin for spiritual reasons a lot like the “past lives” belief, some people kin for fun or to cope with mental health struggles/trauma, there’s all kinds of reasons. You might see fictionkin referred to as “kinnies”, which is just joking shorthand i guess. You may see similarities between the described experiences of fictionkin and the described experiences of fictives/fictional introjects, but rest assured they are not the same thing.
Unfortunately, kinnies have actually had a long history of treating fictives like shit and trying to one-up us, which is weird as fuck and vaguely ableist. Not all kinnies do this, but it’s been. Something I‘ve definitely noticed over the years. I cant usually be around Deidara kinnies because they’ve treated fictives like such ass and tried to invalidate me, which has sent me into days long derealization episodes because they’re trying to prove they I’m not me, and they’re more me than I will ever be, which is horrendously triggering. And they don’t seem to understand WHY that’s fucked up to do to a fictive because they think it’s somehow on the same level of experience.
So yeah, that got extremely long and probably has a lot more information than you were asking for, sorry. I just wanted to be thorough. Sounds like you’re definitely a Deidara kinnie, babe. I’m more than fine w people who kin me, so long as they don’t pull that weird shit like the other ones do. Per my experience, people who kin me are either absolute fucking demons about it or angels and there’s no in between 😔
#i hope this helps#heres a general explination for whats up w me for everyone who follows and doesnt know tbh#dei.txt#deidara fictive#fictional introject#fictive#fictionkin
10 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
birgelsem895km-blog
21ocak
piiixar
Rachidel
destiny-game-flavortexts
Destiny Flavortexts
flamboyence-blog
ON TOP OF THE WORLD!