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sunflowersandsapphires · 2 months

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A Hint of Lovely Oblivion

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: After a week of sleeping terribly, Frank makes an effort to help you get the rest you deserve.

warnings: Swearing, fluff, caring Frank, this is not medical advice

a/n: I wrote this for my lovely bestie @madschiavelique who wanted some Frankie comfort. As someone who deals with insomnia pretty regularly, this was very cathartic! I hope you all enjoy. A huge thank you to my other bestie @gracethyomen for beta-ing and helping me plan this fic!

w/c: 4.6k

Inhaling deeply, the frigid air of the room made your nose twitch. Sliding as deep as you could into the blanket pile while maintaining your seated position, you bit your lip, shifting the pad of paper on your lap and craning your neck once again. While your duvet provided an excellent shield to lock in heat, your shoulders inevitably poked out whenever you weren’t fully horizontal, leaving your body to sit in a temperature regulation purgatory; your consciousness rumbled uneasily as the hair on the back of your neck refused to flatten, your brain torn between making you shiver or letting you sweat. The position was far from comfortable—but being awake all night made comfort an unattainable goal for you anyways.

It had been days since you’d slept through the night. You were no stranger to insomnia, you’d been cursed with it your entire life, but lately it had dug its malicious claws into your chest with the violence of a starving feral animal. Your bed, which used to be a haven of rest and relaxation, was now a space that you avoided at all costs—the wonderfully soft pillows and warm blankets mocking you as they sat untouched well into the night, fatigue never overtaking you when you needed it to. For the first few nights of your ongoing battle with sleeplessness, you’d crawl under the covers anyway, praying to any deity listening that the weight and heat of the fabric would force your eyelids to close—but it never did.

Sighing as your pencil tip snapped, you closed your eyes, letting your breath rest in your lungs for a moment before exhaling again; apparently your frustration with your own hormone production created a physical pressure on the lead of your pencil. Picking up a fresh one from your nightstand, you did your best to clean up the smear of graphite from the impact of the broken point.

Turning your attention back to the subject of your sketch, you chewed your lip to stifle a smile. Despite the thick curtains your partner had insisted on, a sliver of moonlight illuminated the massive man slumbering beside you, quietly snoring away—completely oblivious to the inspiration he'd given you. The feather-light moon beams shone through his tousled hair, creeping down over his face, which was adorably mashed against his singular pillow. Considering that he'd turned up a handful of hours ago drenched in other people's blood, it was downright ironic to be calling him “adorable” as he slept—but you couldn't shake the giddy feeling that always bubbled up when you saw his face so lax with sleep. His expression was so uncharacteristically peaceful, it never failed to make you happy.

Sure, not sleeping sucked. You'd be plagued with jaw-cracking yawns and mild memory loss in the morning, just like yesterday and the day before that. Having the opportunity to watch Frank sleep soundly, didn't make up for the fact that you'd accidentally put orange juice in your coffee yesterday, but it made the build up of irritation much easier to bear. Which is why you'd decided to memorialize it in your sketchbook.

Studying the map of shadows on Frank's handsome face, you scratched the pencil over the thick paper, the rasping sound soothing the constant buzzing in your brain. Scrunching your nose as you tried to smooth out the sketch in front of you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when he spoke.

“Why're you up, darlin'?” His voice was rough with exhaustion. Noticing your wide eyes and ragged inhale, a large hand slid up to rest on your thigh. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.”

”It's alright, Frankie. I wasn't paying attention.“ You tried to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.

His hand stroked over your leg as he waited for you to answer his question. Instead, your eyes remained trained on the book across your lap, pencil moving fluidly through the silence. Tracing a thumb over your warm skin, Frank frowned. “Ya didn't answer my question, sweetheart.”

“Hmm?” Your tone was innocent, but the way your eyes remained glued to your work was enough to tell him you had definitely heard the question.

Squeezing your thigh with a yawn, Frank tried not to groan as he dragged himself up to sit next to you. His movement finally captured your attention, your brow furrowing as you set your pencil aside. “What are you doing?”

Giving what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug, Frank slid an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. ”Sittin' with my girl. That a crime now?“

Smiling despite the guilt flaring in your chest, you shoved at his solid torso feebly. ”Go back to sleep, Frankie. I'm sorry I woke you. I can—“ Shuffling in your seat, you tilted towards the edge of the mattress, fully intending to relocate to a different room so that Frank could go back to bed. Foiling your plan, Frank's arms held fast against your teetering, pulling you flush against his chest.

”Don't you dare.“ He growled, chin resting atop your crown.

”Frank! I didn't even finish my thought,“ You wriggled against his hold, your brain torn between reacting with endearment or annoyance over being imprisoned by his strength. “Let me go, you...you...butthead.” Whining at your own lackluster insult, you buried your face in Frank's neck as he chuckled.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Ain't gotta go for my throat like that.” Frank murmured smugly. You could envision his shit-eating smirk despite it being out of your line of sight.

”Shut up,“ You muttered, a tiny smile gracing your lips against your will. Your body trembled as Frank shook with rumbling laughter. Drawing you into his arms, Frank set your legs over his lap, positioning you towards the windows. The gusting heat from the vent closest to your bed ruffled the fabric covering the panes, the pale glowing rays of moonlight fluttering over your knees as the drapes shifted. It created a mesmerizing dance of light and dark, captivating you.

”Ya gonna tell me how long you've been sittin' here starin' at me or did ya wanna keep pretendin' you were asleep?” In defense of your ruthlessly persistent boyfriend, it has been said that the third time’s the charm. His tone was as delicate as his gruff voice allowed, the muscles of his jaw and throat rippling against your scalp as he spoke.

Eyes falling closed, you focused on the warmth of Frank’s body surrounding you as you willed the tears pricking your eyes to back down. Another unfortunate side effect of sleep deprivation—your emotions started to go haywire over the littlest things.

It wasn’t that you thought Frank would be angry. Well, it wasn’t the biggest anxiety on your mind, at least. It was more the fear of burdening him with your own issues at all hours when you knew a good night’s sleep was practically a miracle for him. The first night at home after a few weeks away always seemed to make it come easier, but other than that Frank rarely rested. The mere thought of forcing him to sit up with you, especially on the one night this week he’d get a full 8 hours, grabbed your guilty conscience by the throat.

Giving a halfhearted shrug, you caved. “Dunno. Slept for a few hours when we went to bed. Then I got up and...” Trailing off, you gestured to the bed in front of you, which was clearly not being used for sleep.

Frank withdrew from the embrace and your pounding heart sank. You set your jaw, waiting for the frustrated scolding…but it never came. Instead, one calloused finger landed underneath your chin, tilting it upwards as he spoke. “You been awake that long?” His eyes shone with concern, boring ferociously into yours.

Nodding miserably, you swallowed the overwhelming shame crawling up your esophagus before speaking. “I’m sorry, Frank. I tried to sleep, but I just couldn’t—“

Cutting you off with a tender kiss, Frank’s hand moved to cup your cheek. “Nothin’ to be sorry about, honey. Ya shoulda woken me up.”

Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you bit your lip, ”You deserve to sleep uninterrupted. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from you.“

Frank chewed the inside of his cheek as he was overrun with waves of adoration and sympathy for you. How he'd managed to end up with such a considerate partner, he'd never know. Especially when he didn't consistently return the gesture.

He'd come home yesterday and practically collapsed into your arms—ignoring how unsteady your balance seemed when you dragged him into the apartment, blaming it on his own weight. You'd patched him up sweetly, as you always did, and Frank hadn't thought twice about the fact that you'd had to leave the room three times to get the gauze, assuming your memory had just been shaken by his battered appearance.

Was he truly so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he hadn't noticed the sunken crescents underneath your eyes? They were so prominent now, stark sepia bruises on your otherwise even skin. It must have been days since you slept properly. Beside himself with worry, his thumb traced the indent under your left eye. ”Shit sweetheart...“

”I'm—“ You started to apologize, but it stuck in your throat when Frank shook his head.

”Hey, none of that. Don't wanna hear it, ok?” You nodded in response to his gentle command, sitting there quietly as he schemed. “Are you tired at all?”

The pitiful shake of your head seemed to make up his mind.

Unwinding from you, he raised his arms above his head in a stretch, moaning as his back popped with the movement. Your face scrunched in disapproval, making him grimace sheepishly. “Sorry, honey. Guess I was stiff from drivin' all day.” Without waiting for your response, he slid out of bed. Your brow furrowed as he strode over to the dresser, pulling a shirt over his rumpled hair.

“Get dressed, darlin'. I have an idea.” He called to you over his shoulder as he rummaged for a clean pair of pants. Sighing, you abandoned the bubble of heat surrounding you in bed and headed for the closet.

Despite your grumbles and evident confusion, the two of you were dressed and on the road before the sun even peeked over the horizon. With one hand settled in yours, Frank kept his gaze trained on the road ahead, trying not to laugh at your exasperated questioning and adorable pout. Dragging you out of the house at this hour might not have been his brightest idea—since he normally tried to remain on your good side—but hey, he’d gotten this far without you chewing his head off.

Frank could hardly be considered a morning person, but you were practically nocturnal. Leaving the house before dawn was probably high up on your list of personal hells, but staying in bed when you couldn’t sleep wasn’t a good idea. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Curtis’s agitated tone.

“For the last time, Frank: staying in bed will make it worse.”

Way back in the day, during his first trip home after going overseas, he’d bugged Curtis relentlessly about his own sleep issues. Maria was tired enough raising a wandering toddler and an imaginative kindergartener, she didn’t need to worry about a restless marine to boot. He’d tried every suggestion under the sun, but sleep still evaded him. Tour after tour, night after night, he’d lay beside his wife in their bed and stare at the ceiling until his alarm went off. After his family died, well…it didn’t exactly get easier to rest.

Despite scouring the internet, a few libraries, and the expanse of Curt’s brain for any possible cures, his sleeplessness persisted. It was a torture he endured for years, and an anguish he wouldn’t wish on anyone but his worst enemies.

Finding out that you also dealt with insomnia was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, not having to explain his fickle moods and constant absence from the bedroom was a welcomed relief. On the other, seeing the symptoms of sleep deprivation in someone he cared about was an agony worse than an infected bullet wound.

He knew what you were going through all too well, which meant he was determined to try and help. Getting you out of the house was just the first step of his admittedly too-detailed plan.

His lips twitched with a smile as he spotted the building. Turning into the ragged asphalt lot behind the restaurant, he turned his attention to you.

“We’re here, darlin’.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you remained unimpressed. “A diner?”

Letting out a bark of laughter at your obvious disdain for the activity, Frank pointed a finger at you in warning. “Hey, don’t knock it til ya try it, sweetheart.” His exaggerated stern expression broke through your apprehension, your lips turning upwards into a fond smile.

“There’s my pretty girl.” Frank pressed a kiss to your temple, heart swelling as you leaned into him. “If ya wanna go home, just say the word.”

Biting your lip, you glanced out the window at the electric blue awning extending from the glass doors. The yellow lamp lights lining the sidewalk reflected in your wide eyes as you stared. “No, we can go. I, just…can I ask you a question first?”

“Course, honey. Anythin’.”

“Why here?” Your question was soft, but genuine; your curiosity was outweighing the contempt you’d previously shown for his choice of destination.

Running a hand through his hair, he gave a one-armed shrug. “Fuck, well... ya know I’m no stranger to the whole…not sleepin’ thing. And, uh, back in the early days, when it was real bad for me, I’d come here. We– er– Maria and I, we took the kids here a couple of times. Dunno, wanted to remember the good times, I guess, and it became a sort of tradition. Thought it might help you too.”

With a stuttering inhale, you reached for his hand, stroking a finger over his knuckles as you looked up at him shyly. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I didn’t mean to be rude about it, I’m sorry.”

Squeezing your fingers, he could feel heat creeping up his face. “It’s nothin’ sweetheart. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”

Glancing back out the window for a moment, Frank could see the gears turning in your head as you turned back to him with a tiny grin.

“Lead the way?” You asked tentatively.

“For you, sweet girl? Always.” He pressed a kiss to your hand, his stubble scratching at the skin of your fingers.

Frank ushered the two of you inside and into a booth in the back of the diner. The restaurant was lacking in customers, as could be expected given the early hour. While the inky black sky was broken up with dim streetlights outside of the building, the inside was flooded with fluorescent lights--so bright that you had to shield your eyes with a limp hand for a few minutes.

Once your vision adjusted, you had to admit that the energy in the diner was quite nice. The chipped linoleum tiles that lined the floor were a gorgeous cobalt blue. Along the ceiling, large chunks of the roof had been replaced with thick panes of glass, allowing you to watch the clouds float by, the darkness of the night contrasting beautifully with the intense lighting. You and Frank were seated on a worn vinyl booth, the strips of fabric alternating between silver and black. Similar booths wrapped around the space, almost twinkling as you looked at them.

“So,” Frank pushed a mug towards you. “Whaddya think?”

“It's nice.” You murmured, pulling the warm cup closer to yourself. Somehow you'd missed him ordering himself coffee and you a tea in your distracted state.

Frank cocked his head at you, lips turned up in a smug smirk. ”’S that so?“

Smiling into your mug as you took a sip, you retorted. ”Shut up.“

The drink was warm and, thankfully, unsweetened. It's crisp flavor relaxed your shoulders as you sipped, settling your anxious stomach.

“Hope mint is a’right.” Frank spoke quietly, a blush creeping up his face as he studied his own drink.

“You remembered.” You breathed out, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly as your eyes prickled with emotion.

“Course I did.” Frank huffed, draining the rest of his black coffee. You shuddered in distaste and he chuckled, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand. “You hungry at all?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Frank sighed, but didn't push further on the subject, which you were very grateful for. You'd never explicitly spoken to him about the effect your insomnia had on your eating habits, but--being the observant partner he was--he'd clearly picked up on it anyways. Once your day started with little to no sleep, it was like all of your bodily functions forgot how to...function. Hunger and thirst cues were practically impossible to read, your body and brain battling each other ferociously at every turn. Which, of course, just exhausted you further.

Scrubbing at one eye with the heel of your free hand, you grit your teeth to keep from groaning. Dwelling on how miserable you were going to feel today wouldn't solve anything, it would just worsen your mood.

”Head botherin' ya?“ Frank asked, brow folding in concern as he watched you knead at your forehead.

”No more than usual.“ You cracked a small smile, hoping that didn't sound as sad as you thought it did. “Just...frustrated with myself.”

“I feel ya, sweetheart. Not sleepin' ain't any fun. But I have some ideas, so don't you worry your pretty little head about it, ok?” Frank tangled his fingers with yours, his gaze earnest.

“You get ideas?” You scoffed, grinning when Frank rolled his eyes in return.

“Ya know what? Just for that, I ain't gonna tell ya about 'em.”

“Nooo,” You whined, taking Frank's massive hand in both of yours and pouting at him. ”I was just kidding. Please tell me.“

”Hmm, I dunno. First you insulted the diner, then my intelligence. Seems like you don't want my help, sweetheart.“ Frank withdrew from your grasp, pretending to sulk into his coffee.

Giggling at Frank’s pout, you reassured him. ”No, I do! I do!“

With a sad little shrug, Frank glanced forlornly out the window.

“Please Frankie,” Pleading with your gaze, you tried to keep a straight face. “You're my only hope.”

Dropping his startlingly believable moping act, Frank cackled. “Ya think you're real clever, don't ya?”

Smirking into your tea, you gulped down the last remnants with a shrug. ”Maybe.“

After your countless apologies for insulting his intellect, Frank finally explained why he'd encouraged–forced–you to leave the house before sunrise. Apparently he'd heard that staying in bed while awake could perpetuate the cycle of sleep deprivation. And, though you were loath to admit it, it seemed to help.

The little excursion definitely lifted your spirits, if nothing else. You were able to admire the sunrise and mess around with Frank without your anxiety skyrocketing because of the city crowds. It was nice, and you told him such–even at the risk of over-inflating his ego.

His next activity, however, was not as pleasant.

“Are you going to have me carry you around the apartment next?” You groused, hefting the bedframe up so that you could adjust your rapidly loosening grip on the cold metal. This much physical labor on an empty stomach and no sleep was not what you’d had in mind for a relaxing day with Frank. He, however, was insistent on moving the furniture in your room immediately upon your return home.

“You offerin'?” Frank smirked at you, pretending to set the bed frame down. His eyes glinted with a humor you didn’t share over the current situation.

“Fuck no.” You muttered, glaring at him until he lifted the majority of the weight once more. Frank laughed deeply.

“Set it right over here, darlin’. We gotta move your dresser and then we’re all done.”

“You know, if you hated the layout of my room so much, you could’ve told me months ago.” Instead of waiting until I was already reaching my limit. You thought to yourself, not vocalizing that particular vulnerability.

“And have you put me out on my ass for bein’ so forward? I’d never, sweetheart.” Frank chuckled, adjusting your bed as you collapsed against the mattress with a huff. “I’m teasin’, honey. It’s an old trick Curt told me about. All the rearrangin’ is supposed to help your brain remember how to sleep, or some shit.”

Rubbing at your forehead as the ache that had been plaguing you all day made a sudden resurgence, your limbs instinctively curled into fetal position as a small whimper escaped your lips.

“It’s helping it remember to bother me is what it’s doing.” You grumbled, gritting your teeth as the pain ebbed and flowed. You knew the more you thought about it, the more it would torture you–but the stabbing sensation was all that your fatigued brain could focus on right now.

Frank snorted, sitting beside you gingerly and caressing your hunched back with an open palm. “‘M sorry, sweet girl. Let me get ya some meds and you can lie here while I finish movin’ shit around.”

Your body felt like it was aimlessly floating, untethered to the Earth and hurrying to escape the pain so viciously attacking it at the moment. You were so tired. Every blink was a reminder of the heaven that had been ripped from your delicate grasp hours ago because your body couldn’t even function in the way it was designed to. Brow scrunching, you burrowed under the covers with a sigh.

“Ya better not be sleepin’ on me, honey.” Frank murmured as he stepped back into the room.

“Course not,” You mumbled. “Would never…”

“I know you’re tired, darlin’, but ya gotta stay awake until it’s dark. Naps will just make ya feel worse, trust me.” He trailed a finger down your arm, taking your hand and placing some painkillers into it. Waiting patiently until you begrudgingly dragged yourself into a seated position, Frank smiled softly at you as you popped the pills into your mouth. Holding the glass of water out to you, the Marine squeezed your leg as you drank, tucking his chin over your head as you collapsed wearily into his side.

“The big bad Punisher takes naps? Hard to picture, Frankie.” You teased, your voice morphing into a satisfied hum as he threaded his fingers into your hair.

Frank scoffed, kissing your crown before returning the jest. “Maybe I should take the vest off before closin’ my eyes next time.”

You giggled, burying your face into his neck. His warm flesh felt wonderful on your pounding head, soothing the pain behind your eyes with each measured breath. “Do you cuddle your guns like teddy bears?” The question was overtly ridiculous, but Frank loved you enough to entertain it anyway.

“Course. What else would I do with ‘em?” He asked coyly.

Looking up at him, the corners of your lips lifted as he pressed a line of gentle kisses down your nose until he reached your lips.

“If I turn on the TV, are ya gonna pass out on top of me?” He murmured, his stubble scratching your face as he spoke.

“Wouldn't dream of it, love.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sturdy jawline before he stood up to grab the remote.

If someone would’ve told you a year ago that your next boyfriend could make a bad insomnia week feel tolerable, you never would’ve believed them. But here you were—lying on your stomach completely topless as Frank massaged a lightly scented lotion into your back—feeling pretty comfortable with the whole arrangement.

After you’d failed to stay awake during the movie you’d picked out, Frank had carted you around town on various errands: picking up groceries, going to the bookstore, and even taking a quick walk around the park to feed the ducks, which he knew you loved. Your body still ached, and your mood still waned, but overall, it was a good day. And all the credit belonged to your incredible partner.

Groaning appreciatively, it felt like you were melting into the mattress as Frank tenderly stretched your taught muscles, unraveling the knots of stress that had been building up all week.

Chuckling, Frank pressed a tiny kiss to your bare shoulder. “Glad it feels good, sweetheart.”

“No, it’s awful,” You lied. “You clearly need more practice..”

Frank snorted, “Noted. How’re ya feelin’?”

“Tired.” You sighed, rolling over as Frank handed you one of his tees to sleep in.

“I bet. We’re on the last leg, sweetheart, almost there.” Frank’s large hands eagerly wrapped around you as you nestled into his side. Cupping your face with one palm, the fingers of his other hand threaded into your hair, detangling it carefully and brushing it off of your face.

Biting your lip in frustration, and to keep from sighing again, you nodded. Attempting an understanding smile, you poked him in the chest. “I know. Thanks for putting up with my cranky self today.”

“Sweetheart, you can be snappy with me as much as ya want if it means you’ll sleep through the night.” Frank smirked, squishing your cheek as your eyes suddenly blurred with tears.

“I love you.” You whispered, going limp in his hold as he settled against the pillows.

“I love you too, darlin’. So much.” Resting your foreheads together, he kissed you delicately and your lashes fluttered.

“Frankie?” You looked up at him with your practiced ‘doe eyes’ expression that he could never resist.

“Yah?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Can you read to me?” Batting your lashes, you watched with satisfaction as Frank’s expression softened, your eyes taking in the exact moment he caved to your whims.

Straightening his posture stoically, he reached over to grab your new book from the nightstand with an exasperated huff. “Oh, I see. This was all a scheme of yours to get me to read to ya? ‘S that it?”

“No…” You giggled, nuzzling into him as he cracked the novel open.

“Sure, sure. You’ll be hearin’ from my lawyer, sweetheart. Think ya owe me compensation.” He winked at you, eyes lingering on your face.

“Honey, before ya drift off, jus’...” Sighing, he stroked a thumb over your cheek. “Just know, if all this doesn’t work, cause it ain’t a cure all, ya know–”

Laying your hand over his, you gave him an encouraging look. He inhaled sharply, thinking about how he wanted to phrase the sentiment.

“I want you to sleep, darlin’, ya know I do. But if it doesn’t happen tonight, we can always try again, ok?”

Startled by the affection in his tone and his beautiful promise, your face went slack as you nodded. Eyes flitting over your gaze, he nodded curtly once he decided you understood. Returning his attention to the book in his hands, he cleared his throat before beginning to read. His rumbling velvet tone soothed you, your eyes falling closed almost immediately. Here, in the safety of Frank’s arms, surrounded by his beautiful voice and reassured by his adorable promise, you finally felt at peace. Though you knew sleep might continue to evade you, the anxiety you’d felt about your insomnia didn’t feel quite as all-consuming tonight. Whatever happened, Frank would be there. And, for now, that was enough.

Thanks for reading!!

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127tyong · 1 year

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Be There For You

Pairing: Jaemin X Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP (let's be real for a second... just the 1st P) Doctor Jaemin, Public(ish), Good Ending (an ai good ending.) (i know nothing about medicine this is all fiction)

Warnings: Mind break (honestly, not that bad imo)

Word Count: 2k

“Come on, I know you need the money! Just think about it!” Your friend slammed the stack of papers in front of you as you sat at the dining table. “It’s just an experiment, how bad could it be?”

“That’s the problem! Those things are always too good to be true.” You looked at the first page, reading “Sleep Clinical Trial 6.4”. “Like, what if they do something weird to me?”

“They won’t! They’re a legit pharmaceutical company! They give you medication, you sleep for a bit, and then you get like, 500 dollars! It’s not that big of a deal.” She sighed, her hands on her hips. “I did the 6.2 experiment, trust me, I know these guys!”

“Ugh…” You groaned. “Is this a pyramid scheme or something? Why are you vouching so hard for them?”

“Listen, I don’t wanna be that person, but you haven’t paid rent in 2 months. I love you, but I can’t let you keep eating and sleeping here for free. If you’re not gonna get a job, you can either do this, or get out.”

You sighed. “I’ll go. I don’t promise anything, but I’ll at least hear them out.” ~ The next day, you made your way into the trial clinic on the address your friend gave you.

“Hello! How can I help you?” The receptionist, wearing a “Jeno” name tag, asked you.

“Um, hi, I’m here to participate in the sleep clinical trial.” You told him, already nervous and fidgeting.

“Oh, dear…” He clicked his tongue. “Honey, that was yesterday…”

“Fuck! I’m sorry…” You nearly bolted out the door.

“Wait! Miss!” Another man called after you. “If you’re willing to, I’m testing something else out right now, I’ll pay you $2000!”

You spun around. “What is it?”

He handed you a clipboard, with some papers attached. “Let me take you into my office.”

He dragged you into his office, the grandeur of it shocking you. Rows of bookshelves, giant velvet seats, and an oak wood desk that sat in the middle of the room, a leather chair in front of it. You focused your attention back to the doctor, who was wearing a suit with a lab coat over it, his hair an ash blue color, his glasses resting down his nose.

“Let me introduce myself, I’m Na Jaemin, MD. I’m testing a medicine right now, it’s a female hormone regulator.” You shook his hand as you sat on the leather seat, him sitting across from you. You flipped through the papers. “What do I have to do for this, exactly?”

You read the first page. “Project E 1.0”

The subject will be given a shot containing an unlabelled test medication.

Effects may vary, but it will be used to treat PCOS and other hormone irregularities.

“You just have to take a shot, and I’ll do the rest. I’ll take your blood work, weight, physical changes… It’s supposed to be all good… hair growth, regulates your cholesterol, and makes your breasts bigger.”

“What are the possible side effects?” You asked.

“Hormones can cause a large amount of side effects, like birth control. Although, I must warn you that you are the first person to be administered this drug, which is why the pay is so good. There may be side effects we are unaware of.”

“...So basically you have no idea.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but I’ll be here for you the whole time.”

You nodded. "I'll do it." After all, it seemed more good than bad, and $2000…

"You'll be taking a shot every 2 weeks, which I'll administer, then I'll have you report any changes in your mood, body, etcetera. Sign here, and then we can start!" Jaemin pointed to the last page of the stack he’d given you.

You quickly signed your sanity to Na Jaemin, MD.

You quickly realized the bad outweighed the good. Sure, your hair was healthier than it had ever been, your skin was glowing, your breasts grew…

But your back hurts from the weight gain and you’ve never been so horny in your life.

You were sweating, your vibrator overheating, and your cunt was drenched from the constant need of relief.

Your phone shined brightly in the dark of your bedroom. 2 weeks had passed. You needed to see your doctor again.

You were put together enough to make the average person think you were okay, but Jaemin could see through you, the pained look in your eyes familiar to him after working in the medical field for years. Mini skirt barely hiding the fact your juices were pouring down your legs, wishing you wore jeans, but you didn’t even have the strength to slide a pair up.

"So, I take it that the past two weeks haven't been the best?" Jaemin's pen clicked to the tempo of the clock ticking.

"No…" You rubbed your thighs together, your sweat sticking to the leather chair. You could practically feel yourself soaking the leather, still so wet, so needy. “I’ve… had a raised libido, I guess.” Your throat was dry, swallowing.

"Have you tried masturbating?" His words filled you with dread, not knowing if he fully understood.

"Everyday… Multiple times everyday. I haven't been able to sleep properly because of it…" You felt sticky, hot. You could practically smell Jaemin, the scent of his cologne, his musk, glancing at the way his hands moved as he wrote, the veins traveling up his arms. You nearly started drooling, noticing he didn’t have a ring on his finger, imagining his fingers inside you. You shook your head, knowing you couldn’t do this to yourself.

Jaemin kissed his teeth, the pop echoing in your ears. "Is a partner not an option?"

"No, I'm single… Can I go to the bathroom?" You were throbbing, practically able to feel the blood rushing to your clit, your panties rubbing against it too much to handle. You nearly toppled over as you stood up, dizzy, your legs too weak from needing to cum more than anything.

Jaemin stood up then helped you stand up. "Are you okay?" His arm on your waist, the scent of his cologne overwhelming you.

"Is… too much." You whimpered. "Need to cum right now."

Jaemin rushed you into a sterile, brightly lit patient room. He started laying you down onto the small, leather bed covered in a disposable sheet, then shutting and locking the door. "How long has this been going on?"

Tears ran down your face. "Since I took it…"

"Why hasn't it worn off?" He grumbled to himself, pacing around the room. "It's been 2 weeks, it should be out of your system…"

"It hurts…" You cried out.

"Oh, right… Fuck, you should've called me when it started! What should I do?" He touched your cheek, wiping your tears away, the chill of his hand shocking you.

"Make me cum." You cried out, your body burning up. "Doctor, make me cum…"

As he thought to himself, Jaemin thought about how he couldn't fuck a patient, how he was a professional, how he could probably give you a pain medication to make it stop. But then seeing you in agony made him reconsider the fact that he was the one who did this to you, that he was responsible… Then he realized how hard he was from listening to your cries and how much he wanted to help you cum.

Jaemin spread your legs open, sliding your panties off as they stuck to your cunt, soaked. "So wet, cute…" He muttered to himself. His hands grabbed your thighs, squeezing onto them to stabilize himself as he bent down to eat you out.

Licking up your wetness, Jaemin sucked on your clit, flicking at it with his tongue.

"Cumming!" You cried out, your back arching, hips grinding against Jaemin's tongue.

Your pretty, high pitched whines were enough to make Jaemin risk losing his job.

As Jaemin pulled away, he licked his lips and swallowed the taste of you. "Do you feel better?"

"A little…" You mumbled, sitting up, still dizzy, but less stressed.

Jaemin lowered the hospital bed using the remote on the end of the bed. "Bend over the bed."

“Doctor-” You stood up.

“Call me Jaemin, please.” Jaemin took your hand, spinning you around, then pressing his hand against your back, bending you over, his hand trailing up to the back of your head, pushing your cheek against the leather cushion. Your hands outstretched in front of you, gripping onto the paper-wrapped pillow.

“Jaemin…” You moaned, your voice only a little louder than a whisper, listening to the sounds of Jaemin removing his belt and unzipping his slacks.

His hand slid cupped your ass, watching you squirm from his touch. His tip rubbing your clit, covered in precum, getting even more wet from you. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“Please, hurry up.” You whimpered, crying into the pillow.

“Of course.” Jaemin plunged straight into you, grabbing onto your hips, pulling you towards him.

You never really got a good look at his cock, but it was safe to say that he was longer, thicker than your dildo, or any man you’ve ever been with before. Your back arched instinctively, not knowing how to handle a cock that big. Jaemin was only inside you for a little while, but you were already close, and after a few thrusts from Jaemin, you were at your limit. “Doctor, please!” You moaned out, biting onto the pillow as you came.

Jaemin didn’t know how to react, but he knew how he wanted to react. He grabbed you by your neck and shoved the rest of his length into you. His hand was pressed against your windpipe, making you unable to properly breathe, forcing you to arch your back so you could breathe properly. Once you did, Jaemin adjusted his hand, squeezing onto the sides of your throat.

“I told you to call me Jaemin.” He whispered into your ear.

“Sorry…” Jaemin’s pace began to quicken. “Sorry, I’m sorry!”

“You should’ve listened to me.” Jaemin started kissing your neck, nibbling, biting, trying to stop himself from pitifully moaning.

“Jaemin! Jaemin, I’m sorry!” His grip on your neck tightened, cutting off your jugular vein, making you feel euphoric.

“You’re so fucking nasty… It’s so beautiful.” He moaned into your ear while you whimpered, begging Jaemin for mercy.

You knew you were an overstimulated, noisy mess, left at the mercy of Jaemin, an overworked doctor who needed you to take his stress out into your pathetic hole.

Jaemin was certain Jeno could hear everything and prayed he would cover his ass. The way you screamed his name was worth it though. The way you shook when you came, the sweet squelching sounds you made, they were all beautiful.

“I’m gonna cum.” Jaemin bit down on your neck, already having left multiple bruises and bite marks on your pretty neck. Treating you how a dog bites down on his chew toy. Forcefully and mercilessly, like you couldn’t feel a thing.

And you basically couldn’t, afterall, all you could feel was how good Jaemin was fucking you. In that moment, Jaemin could’ve done anything he wanted to you and you would’ve nodded your head and taken it.

Which is why you didn’t even say anything when your insides were coated with a thick layer of Jaemin’s cum.

Jaemin left you for a few hours, letting you get the sleep you desperately needed.

When you woke up, you realized you were no longer in pain. Forcing yourself to get dressed, you made your way over to Jaemin’s office.

“You’re up?” He looked up at you over his glasses.

You nodded, sitting back down at the chair you were sitting in earlier, noticing the wet mark was still there.

“Are you still in pain?”

You shook your head, rubbing your arms.

“Shall we continue the trial then?” Jaemin stood up, removing his glasses and setting them on his desk.

“But I was in so much pain…” You looked up at Jaemin as he walked over to you. “I think I have a solution to that.” Caressing your cheek and gently kissing your lips.

“Please fuck me again, Jaemin.”

“As my patient wishes.”

#nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin smut #nct fanfic #nct x reader

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bbcphile · 4 months

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Mysterious Lotus Casebook and Complex PTSD Representations: Part I

One of my favorite things about Mysterious Lotus Casebook is how surprisingly nuanced and unusual its portrayal of complex PTSD is. So many shows either introduce character trauma to make the character Sad and Brooding, Angry and Violent (if they’re a villain) or Hesitant to Start a Relationship (if it’s a romance), and that’s usually as in-depth as it gets. If they address the unique after effects of child abuse that lead to complex PTSD at all, it’s usually either explain why a character is a homicidal monster (which is all sorts of problematic) or it’s limited to a single phobia, which can be overcome by the Power of Love, or it’s just something that crops up occasionally for Plot and then forgotten about the rest of the time.

Mysterious Lotus Casebook gives us two deeply traumatized characters–Li Lianhua and Di Feisheng–who each have clear symptoms of complex PTSD, and yet, their cPTSD manifests completely differently because of the types of traumas that caused it and their relationships to the people causing the traumas. And their manifestations of cPTSD affect just about every level of their being, including their sense of self, their decision-making, and their relationships with others, and it includes some of the incredibly important manifestations of cPTSD that are almost never shown in media while avoiding the most insulting stereotypes!

PTSD vs cPTSD

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is an anxiety disorder caused by experiencing a single (or short lived) traumatic event (an accident, assault, medical emergency, fighting in a war, etc), where the symptoms last for longer than a month. Symptoms include things like reexperiencing the event (flashbacks), avoidance (of things related to the event), changes in mood (depression, anger, fear, etc), and issues with emotional regulation (hypervigilance–being constantly on the lookout for threats–irritability/angry outbursts, etc.).

Complex PTSD happens if someone has experienced long term, chronic/repeated trauma that induces hopelessness and no chance of escape (survivors of extended child abuse, human trafficking, domestic violence, prisoners of war, slavery, etc.). It’s also often interpersonal in ways a car crash or medical emergency is not, and is particularly linked with chronic trauma during childhood: chronic stress hormones introduce literal physical changes in a growing brain, particularly the amygdala (which processes fear), hippocampus (which is responsible for learning/memory), and the prefrontal cortex (which is responsible for executive function), so it can affect every aspect of life and also affect a child’s progression through developmental stages. In addition to these physical changes to the brain, the prolonged trauma–particularly the helplessness–distorts a child’s sense of self, the perpetrator, and the world in ways that alter their decision making, their memory, and their future relationships.

For instance, whereas a traumatic event that caused PTSD might make you depressed or not trust the person who harmed you (or to fear driving), the trauma from cPTSD might make you suicidal, blame yourself for your victimization, decide to isolate to avoid interpersonal relationships to keep from getting hurt, or become obsessed with never being harmed again.

Basically, cPTSD has the core symptoms from PTSD with some extra challenges, including issues with emotional regulation, self-concept, interruptions in consciousness, difficulties with relationships, perceptions of the perpetrator, and systems of meaning.

DFS and LLH: CPTSD Symptoms

There’s so much more to say about this than I can cover in this superficial introduction, so this will be the first of a series of metas; I’m hoping to go into more depth about some of these categories in future posts (the DFS and emotional regulation/violence one is already drafted, so stay tuned).

Difficulties with Relationships (problems with trust, communication, missing red flags): Both DFS and LLH have a history of trusting the wrong people and not trusting the right people, both in the past and in the present of the show: in the past, LLH missed the fact that SGD hated him and DFS missed the fact that JLQ was obsessed with him, and as a result, both sects were destroyed, many people died, and the two almost destroyed each other. If they had communicated with each other instead of fighting at the donghai battle, they might have realized they were being set up and could have worked together, but their difficulties with trust after perceived betrayal made that impossible for them. They both have a history of overlooking red flags in the present–DFS in particular, keeping the red-flag-personified-JLQ around despite her history of poisoning people, including himself–and they both tend to struggle with relationships in the present: LLH runs away from and/or drugs the people who care about him, and DFS sends endless mixed messages by not telling Li Lianhua most of his plans to help him.

Self-Concept (Self-hatred and self-fragmentation): Li Lianhua is basically the poster child for having a negative self concept: he has an overdeveloped sense of self-blame and responsibility, even believing he deserves to die for leading his men to their deaths, and once he learns he was manipulated and SGD was behind it all, he seems to think it’s his own fault that he was manipulated, lied to, and abused. His self-loathing is so extreme that he imagines his earlier self, Li Xiangyi, to have died, and tries as much as possible to be nothing like that earlier persona. His repeated insistence that Li Xiangyi and Li Lianhua are NOT the same person is reminiscent of the fragmentary sense of self that comes with more extreme trauma, like Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) or Other-Specified Dissociative Disorder (OSDD), where traumatic experiences are so painful that people form different alters, or differentiated self-states, that can have different names and skills and memories and identities.

Di Feisheng doesn’t have the self-hatred or guilt that LLH does, and it seems like he tries to skip over questions of self worth, blame, or hatred by focusing exclusively on staying true to his code of ethics he’s developed for himself and focusing on gaining the strength necessary to fight for his freedom from mind control and the Di Fortress. But even though he’s kept his Di name, kept his goals the same since escaping Di Fortress, and hasn’t tried to separate himself from his trauma the way LLH did with LXY, he’s even more willing than LLH to take on different identities: it’s literally one of his martial arts skills. The Bone Constriction Skill lets him become someone else for a time, whether that’s a child or Shi Hun. It fits well with his willingness to be whoever he needs to be to accomplish his goals: he’s perfectly willing to be seen as a heartless villain if it lets him protect LLH, and he’s willing to flirt with and pretend to be jealous of JLQ to get information from her, and he’s willing to be LLH’s a-Fei, both with and without his memories.

Interruptions in Consciousness (Amnesia and nightmares for Everyone): LLH and DFS both have nightmares and flashbacks/memories of traumatic events, and as mentioned above, both have interesting hints of having fragmented/fluid senses of self. They both also dissociate, or separate themselves from the present when dealing with traumatic things: LLH spaces out and gets stuck in his past memories about SGD when talking to FDB after burying SGD, and DFS dissociates from physical pain so as not to make noise both after he’s been stabbed and poisoned with Wuxin Huai and again when JLQ is torturing him in her water dungeon.

They both also have dissociative amnesia that takes away trauma memories, although one is from a poisonous incense plus the magic of qi macgyvering: LLH forgot the existence of his older brother who died in front of him, and DFS as a-Fei had just about all of his memories (except a few of killing as a child) taken away. Amnesia is a huge part of cPTSD, because it’s the brain’s way of trying to protect you from truths that you might not survive. It can manifest as blocking out one single traumatic event, a bunch of thematically or temporally linked traumatic events, a skill set related to the trauma, or, in the case of something like DID or OSDD, just about everything. It’s endlessly fascinating to me that the show gives us one example of definite traumatic amnesia through LLH, and then seems to almost transform the experience of having DID and being a new part and finding yourself with a new name and very little else into an exaggerated fantasy setting (interestingly, people often report experiencing debilitating headaches when they try to regain memories behind the amnesia barrier). I doubt this is what they were actually going for, since DID is almost universally portrayed incorrectly and offensively in media (one of the alters is almost always portrayed as a serial killer, but that’s a rant for another day), but the different names and the presence of amnesia with LLH made it a fascinating enough parallel that I had to mention it.

Problems with Emotional Regulation (Lashing in vs. lashing out): Li Xiangyi and Di Feisheng are polar opposites when it comes to struggles with emotional regulation: whereas LXY turns his anger inward, directing it all toward self-hate in what’s often called a “toxic shame spiral,” both after the donghai battle and after he finds out about SGD’s role in his shifu’s death, DFS lashes out physically at those who have harmed him, usually via choking people, although he is usually exerting an impressive amount of control over his emotions and strength. To put in perspective just how different their emotional strategies are and how much effort DFS puts into emotional regulation, compare how much more calm he is than LLH during any revelation of past betrayal or painful information, any scene where they confront the people who have abused them, or any scene where they learn they’ve been wrong about something big; LLH is most likely having an emotional flashback (re-experiencing the emotions from the earlier traumas) and DFS is probably compartmentalizing them or dissociating from them to process later/never so he can stay semi-functional and not show a potential opponent a weak spot.

NOTE: This means that DFS is loooong overdue for a very dramatic breakdown when it eventually all catches up to him and he can’t distract himself from it anymore.

Perceptions of Perpetrators: In this way only, Di Feisheng has one advantage: he knows the head of Di Fortress is a cruel, abusive tyrant. While he clearly still fears him, even as a physically strong adult (he has nightmares, flashbacks, and dedicates his life to being free from him, which means he still to some extent feels young, small, and helpless when he thinks of him), DFS knows that he hates him and wants to be free of him. This is probably part of why he’s spared some of the self-hatred LLH experiences: he knows he didn’t deserve the abuse because seeing it happen to other children means he knows the abuse wasn’t a personal reflection on him. It does, however, motivate him to want to be stronger and invulnerable so as to never be helpless again, and that obsession is what drives him to have a single-minded focus on reaching the pinnacle of the jianghu.

It’s so much more complicated for Li Lianhua (and for a more detailed analysis, check out this meta): the childhood perpetrators were manifold–a slew of bandits, whichever children and adults on the street would abuse him for existing and being poor–it probably felt like life itself was to blame. It’s no wonder that when his shifu and shiniang took him in, they were the ultimate rescuers whom he hero-worshipped, so when he felt he made a mistake and his life fell apart, he blamed himself: at least there would be someone to blame that way and something he could do about it (try to kill his past self and hate everything about him). It’s also very telling that LLH doesn’t blame JLQ or YBQ all that much when he learns they poisoned him, and that he’s more angry that SGD murdered their shifu than he is that SGD set him up, hated him, and was the real mastermind behind everything he had blamed himself for; he struggles to stay angry at people who harm him, and would rather blame and hate himself for being tricked than hate the person who tricked him. So, whereas DFS tries to destroy the people who abused him, LLH tries to destroy himself.

If you read this far, thanks! I’m probably going to be posting the DFS and emotional regulation/violence against perpetrator meta next, because it’s drafted, but if there are any of these you desperately want me to talk about more sooner rather than later, let me know! :D

#mysterious lotus casebook #mlc meta #di feisheng #li lianhua #Li Xiangyi #complex PTSD #child abuse #sorry it's so long! This is the short version #The original version was 2700 words #dissociation #trauma #I am so here for non-monolithic representations of mental illnesses #PTSD #In case you can't tell I am very invested in depictions of PTSD and cPTSD #I'm always up for talking about fictional portrayals of trauma #so feel free to message if you have questions about any of this and don't want it to be in the notes for some reason

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ghouljams · 4 months

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GHOUL I WOULD LIKE YOUR ABO THOUGHTS PLEASE HOWEVER ILLEGAL AND UNLIKEABLE THEY MAY BE THANKS MOM

.....OK so my absolute favorite interpretation of a/b/o comes from a wtnv fic but the basics of the dynamics are explained by the author here. This fic and interpretation honestly changed the way I thought about a/b/o fics entirely, I can't go back to the usual alpha/omega stuff because the world building was just *chefs kiss* so good and I'll never get it anywhere else.

All that to say, even though I think my interpretations of the characters falls in line with what people usually think of as their endotypes(a/b/o type) boy howdy I have a very different reasoning behind it. A/B/O thoughts under the cut.

So..... we can start with the easy ones.

Price is an alpha. Bedrock of the 141, he's making sure all of his ducks are in a row. He has a desperate intrinsic need to make sure his pack is well taken care of and settled, he tries not to be overbearing but if threatened even an old dog bears its teeth. Price is an alpha through and through, so he tends to get stressed when his pack is out of sorts but he's also the fastest to take charge in a crisis.

Gaz is a beta, likely on the alpha end of the spectrum but I think he's close to a true beta. He'd unflappable, the person you want in a crisis because he will jump to trying to solve it instead of panicking. I think Gaz has the privilege of being able to sort of peak at both sides of the spectrum, and he's able to charm both alphas and omegas.

König is an alpha, probably the highest spectrum alpha around. The man screams alpha, he's the stereotype. Except that he isn't. He doesn't seem particularly eager to pack bond with anyone, so his protective instincts always ring sort of hollow. He's definitely got the same itch Price does but he's highly selective with it, he doesn't want to waste his care on people that won't stick around and being a mercenary means a revolving door of people and no solid pack. It makes him anxious but he can't tell the rest of KorTac that...

Soap... hm, I want to say Soap is an omega. Emotional regulator of the pack, usually the one keeping the rest in line. I do think he has what would be considered a "typical" omega demeanor but he also could not emotionally regulate his way out of a box. I think he's a high alpha spectrum beta who's from a big family, meaning he's wrapped himself up in omega mannerisms to seem less threatening to pack order. He fits in well in the military because he doesn't want to take over the pack, but still has that alpha proclivity towards protecting his own. He's another bedrock addition to a pack without threatening anyone's position, and his ability to blend in with omegas is absolutely invaluable.

Ghost, oh Ghost... this is where I think I might be insane. I think Ghost has a hormonal issue. I think he presented as an omega and that wasn't going to fly in the Riley household so he forced himself to act like an alpha and wouldn't you know it his hormones flipped after a year or so. Great now he's an alpha! He joins the military, earns his stripes, a year or two go by and oops his hormones have flipped again. Just in time to go home and fix his family because the omega nesting instinct is in full effect. Another hormone flip a few years later and he's an alpha again, he gets back in the service and shit hits the fan, he feels good(with his hormones) feels settled(its been a while since his last switch), he goes home to find his family dead and another hormone flip happens. He joins the 141 with a designation as an alpha and he plays the part well, takes the suppressants, hides his heats, waits for the next flip to happen. Price knows, medical knows, Soap and Gaz can guess, but it's strictly off the record. The best guess is that it's a stress response, but at this point Ghost is just living with it. People assume he's an alpha because of his size and strength(neither of which go away when his hormones flip) so it's easy to hide but it does make him irritable. While he's an omega he's the emotional regulation of the pack, sits on the couch and purrs silently while Gaz and Soap sleep on either side of him. He plucks nervously at the blankets and pillows, nesting around the sleeping sergeants. He usually spends his heats alone because he tends to get... aggressive. He's not looking for sex he's looking for a fight and it's better for him to lock himself away than deal with accidentally killing a recruit. Sometimes someone else in the 141 will sneak in to help Ghost out, and they'll be sore for days.

#ghoul speaks #a/b/o #uuuuh i know the darlings endotypes too and theyre not surprising #to no ones surprise i think goose is an alpha

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catboybiologist · 3 months

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Have you seen any research or documentation on progesterone in mtf hrt? I've seen some people online swear by it, but caution that you shouldn't start too soon. I'm personally considering it, but cautious about jumping the gun. If you have any thoughts I'd love to hear them. Thanks!

So first off, I am not a medical professional.

The tl;Dr is that there has been no conclusive formal study on progesterone's effects when used in HRT, but there is overwhelming anecdotal evidence that it increases breast size and improves mood regulation.

The reason why you don't add progesterone until later in HRT is because the progesterone receptor is regulated by estrogen. Without sufficient time on estrogen, progesterone is useless. It's like giving your body keys before you have doors to open them with. Ya gotta spend some time building those locks. Or something. I'm bad with metaphors. But anyways.

Generally, for these questions, all I'm doing is summarizing information from the UCSF trans healthcare guidelines, or going like one citation layer deep.

Key quotes from here:

"There have been no well-designed studies of the role of progestogens in feminizing hormone regimens. Many transgender women and providers alike report an anecdotal improved breast and/or areolar development, mood, or libido with the use of progestogens."

"....the risks of using progestogens in transgender women are likely minimal or even absent"

The "villain" of the progesterone story is DHT, an androgen that activates the same receptors as testosterone and therefore largely has the same effects. Excess progesterone has the possibility of being metabolized into DHT. Personally.... I find it doubtful that this has a significant effect on masculinization, especially if your E levels have been stable and good for a while. My hunch is that some trans women have fluctuating E levels, and start intrinsically correlating temporary masculinization with starting prog, even though it's kinda random. There's just not enough added progesterone to make that much of a difference, considering that there's an extra step to metabolize DHT, and that it only happens in small amounts normally. But again, I have no basis for that.

One citation layer deep is this review paper (citation 17):

It's unable to draw any conclusions.

Unfortunately, these studies are going to take a while to come out, because no one's really trying to study it. Most trans woman aren't being tracked by scientists. But if my spreadsheet format is any help, maybe we can get some "citizen science" data going on self reporting? I doubt there will ever be enough. But hey, can't hurt.

In any case, progesterone is part of cis female development, menstrual cycle mood regulation, general mood regulation, and breast development. The theoretical basis is sound and the risks are minimal. My personal vibe on it is that there's no reason not to start it after 6 months or so of sufficiently high blood estrogen levels.

#mtf hrt #trans

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 10 months

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another anti-psych post from your neighborhood patient-therapist

In my last post I talked about the kinds of basic needs people and communities have, and asked what it might look like in your community to meet those needs as a baseline. This time we're going to talk more about what happens when communities and individuals are chronically un-/under-served.

Okay so let's break it down this way. We're gonna try looking at just one medical symptom of chronic stress: autonomic dysregulation. It's not going to feel like we are, but I promise that's all we're doing. This is a *serious* symptom and it often comes clustered with others due to the way it functions within the body, which is why I think it is a useful case study here. Autonomic dysfunction, especially chronic dysfunction, can temporarily (though for long spans of time if the dysfunction remains chronic rather than acute) alter the functioning of other systems within the body such as the endocrine system, the reproductive system, cognitive functioning through the hippocampus and amygdala, and muscle functioning, nerve functioning, and others. It is no joke to suggest that long term autonomic dysfunction can often lead to major long term health consequences that are life altering for the person experiencing them. While some can be treated, managed, or even cured, not all can be and this is something I want us all to keep in mind as we consider the need for building communities that do not cause this kind of harm to their people.

Let's look at some potential medical outcomes of autonomic dysfunction, per the Mayo Clinic:

Dizziness and fainting when standing, caused by a sudden drop in blood pressure.

Urinary problems, such as difficulty starting urination, loss of bladder control, difficulty sensing a full bladder and inability to completely empty the bladder. Not being able to completely empty the bladder can lead to urinary tract infections.

Sexual difficulties, including problems achieving or maintaining an erection (erectile dysfunction) or ejaculation problems. In women, problems include vaginal dryness, low libido and difficulty reaching orgasm.

Difficulty digesting food, such as feeling full after a few bites of food, loss of appetite, diarrhea, constipation, abdominal bloating, nausea, vomiting, difficulty swallowing and heartburn. These problems are all due to changes in digestive function.

Inability to recognize low blood sugar (hypoglycemia), because the warning signals, such as getting shaky, aren't there.

Sweating problems, such as sweating too much or too little. These problems affect the ability to regulate body temperature.

Sluggish pupil reaction, making it difficult to adjust from light to dark and seeing well when driving at night.

Exercise intolerance, which can occur if your heart rate stays the same instead of adjusting to your activity level.

Some common comorbid conditions may include Diabetes, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, Parkinson's, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, or an autoimmune disorder. In each of these cases I want you to remember the lens of an individual body being denied, in some way, its base needs (an edocrine hormone, a nutritional component, the internal security of homeostasis, etc), to such an extent that it begins to experience an internal catastrophic failure, as this lens may often be supportive of accommodating your disabled comrades, or yourself, in the future.

I also want us to consider some common social statistics relevant to these conditions. Nearly 4% of the world experiences and autoimmune disorder. Most are women, and Indigenous, Black, and Latina women are at risk than most for several of these. In the United States, there are suspected to be 37.3 million people with diabetes. Diabetes is also considered an autoimmune disorder by researchers, and is one that the Indigenous, Filipino, Indian, Latine, and Black communities are all at higher risk for than white people are, however, risk is also heavily influenced by poverty, and by a family's location with respect to food deserts which grow more and more common. In a truly wild statistic, 80% of lesbians versus 32% of heterosexual women had polycystic ovaries in one study, and 33% of lesbians versus 14% of heterosexual women had progressed to PCOS. Some studies find that transmasculine folks are more likely to PCOS as well.

When we consider the marginalization these groups experience, and the way that marginalization plays out in the social forum, the political forum, in the financial forum, and in the emotional forum, are we really surprised to learn that it plays out in the embodied forum too?

This is what people mean when they talk about social murder. These are health conditions that don't just change lives, they end them. A system that churns out people so chronically sick that their bodies are desperately killing themselves trying to stay alive is a society that has become desperately sick. Diabetes is something we have attributed to individuals, to families, and even every once in a while to corporations, but at what point have we sat down and looked at a society that produces this murderous autoimmune disorder at such high rates and asked the real question: how are we making so many people sick?

The answers are many, and that can feel overwhelming, but I encourage you to start in one place and learn your way around it as well as you can before you even consider moving on. Maybe start with food deserts. They're probably familiar to you, you've heard about them in passing before I imagine, even if you're not really too into this stuff. But ask yourself WHY food deserts are able to exist? What are the mechanics of one being born? How does one stay free from the stain of a grocery store or food market? Are there any places like that near you? If so, what points of leverage might there be in that location for you to break the homeostasis of the food desert? How can you add your weight to efforts already occurring, or stir up sentiment around the idea of a new homeostasis where a grocery store exists? Can you put up flyers or attend town hall meetings? Can you knock doors or phone bank? Can you bring some sugar by your neighbors and comment how frustrating it is you all have to go so far to get your groceries and wonder what's up with that and maybe start scheming together? What kind of store should it be? Bring in a local market? A chain? Build a co-op or merchant's stalls for a four season farmer's market?

Get really into one idea, and get others in on it with you. I bet you aren't the only one who'd like a better status quo.

#anti-psych #chronic stress #food deserts #this one is still fuzzy i may come back to it

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flowerandblood · 2 months

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some of my sadness below

I know it's nobody's business, but I don't want to burden my husband with it, so I'd rather write about it here and get it out somehow. As many people probably know, my husband and I are trying to have a baby, unsuccessfully so far.

I have problems with hormones, which are regulated by the doctor with pills, but sometimes I don't have an ovulation cycle at all during the month and I don't have periods. That's why I never know if I'm pregnant or if something bad is happening again when the bleeding is delayed and it's exhausting for me to take pregnancy tests only to find out that I have to call the doctor again.

My husband is very supportive and worries about me a lot, there is no pressure on his part, although of course he wants to become a parent as much as I do, I know that I am completely enough for him and will be enough for the rest of his life, we also talked about adoption if it turned out after a few years that there was still nothing.

It's just that if I just got my period every month, I think I would be able to bear it somehow, although with a feeling of disappointment, but this hope when I don't bleed, that maybe it worked this time, and then it turns out that it didn't, just kills me.

I have to do these tests when my period is very late, because if it turns out that I am pregnant, I will have to change my allergy medications that I take every day to others that would not harm the baby, so I can't just "wait for what fate will bring."

That's it. Thank you for letting me get this out.

#just sad babbling

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pymanderprosthetics · 8 months

Text

The Journey of Beard Growth: A Guide for Transgender FTM Men

For many transgender FTM individuals, the desire to grow a beard can be a crucial part of their gender transition. However, the process of beard growth can be different and sometimes challenging.

In this blog post, we'll delve into the intricacies of beard growth for transgender FTM men and offer some helpful tips and advice along the way.

Understanding Hormonal Changes

One of the primary factors affecting beard growth is HRT: Hormone Replacement Therapy. Testosterone, the hormone prescribed to transgender FTM individuals, is responsible for promoting masculine secondary sexual characteristics. It plays a crucial role in facial hair development. However, the rate and pattern of beard growth differ for each individual.

During the first few months of testosterone gel or injections, some might experience faster facial hair growth, while others may need to be more patient. The extent of your natural hair growth patterns, genetics, and hormone levels all influence the process. It is essential to remember that everyone's journey to beard growth is unique, and comparing oneself to others should be avoided.

Patience is Key for growing an FTM beard

Beard growth takes time, regardless of gender. It's important to embrace patience and let nature take its course. Don't be discouraged if you don't see immediate results. It may take several months, or even a couple of years, for your beard to fully develop. Consistency and perseverance are crucial during this period.

Healthy Lifestyle Choices

Though it may not directly influence the speed of facial hair growth, adopting a healthy lifestyle can contribute to overall well-being and hair quality. Here are a few tips:

1. Balanced Diet: A diet rich in protein, vitamins (A, C, and E), and minerals (zinc and magnesium) supports hair growth.

2. Hydration: Drinking enough water keeps your entire body healthy, including your hair follicles.

3. Exercise: Regular physical activity helps regulate hormone levels and increases blood circulation, potentially promoting hair growth.

4. Skincare: Taking care of your skin helps maintain a clean and healthy environment for beard growth. Cleansing, exfoliating, and using moisturizers can enhance your facial hair's appearance.

Minoxidil

Minoxidil, also available as Rogaine (foam), is a medication originally used to treat high blood pressure, but is now commonly used to treat hair loss. When applied topically to the skin, it opens up potassium channels and increases blood flow to the hair follicles. This increased blood flow can help stimulate beard growth in FTM men.

To use minoxidil for beard growth, first make sure to get the 5% solution. Using a dropper or a cotton swab, apply a small amount of the solution to the areas where you want more beard growth. Rub the solution into the skin using your fingers. Please be sure to ask to your endocrinologist before buying and proceeding with the usage of Minoxidil. Also notice that it can be dangerous for animals living in the household.

Microneedling

In addition to using minoxidil, microneedling can also be used to stimulate beard growth. Microneedling involves rolling a device with tiny needles over the skin, creating tiny punctures. This microtrauma stimulates the body's healing response, which includes the production of collagen and the release of growth factors. This process can also help increase blood flow to the hair follicles in the beard area.

To use microneedling for beard growth, first make sure to get a microneedling device. Using gentle pressure, roll the device over the skin in the desired beard growth areas. Apply minoxidil immediately after microneedling to further stimulate beard growth. Repeat this process once a week for optimal results.

While both minoxidil and microneedling have been proven effective for stimulating beard growth, it's important to note that results can take several months to appear. Additionally, it's important to use the products as directed and to talk to a doctor before starting any new medication or treatment.

Extra tips

These tips will help you to take good care of your beard once it starts growing.

Wash your beard regularly with a gentle cleanser: It is important to keep your beard clean to prevent build-up of dirt, oil, and bacteria which can cause skin irritation and beard dandruff. Use a gentle cleanser that is specifically designed for facial hair and avoid using regular soap as it can dry out the skin and beard hairs.

Condition your beard with a beard oil or balm to prevent dryness and itching: Using a beard oil or balm can help to moisturize and condition your beard hairs, making them softer and less prone to breakage. It can also help to prevent itching and irritation that can be caused by dry skin.

Brush your beard daily to remove any tangles or knots: Brushing your beard daily can help to distribute natural oils throughout the beard, which can help to prevent dryness and breakage. It can also help to remove any tangles or knots that may have formed in the beard hairs.

Trim your beard regularly to maintain the desired length and shape: Regular trimming can help to keep your beard looking neat and tidy. Use a good quality pair of scissors or clippers to trim your beard and be sure to trim it evenly on both sides.

Avoid over-washing or over-brushing, as this can damage the beard and cause split ends: While it is important to keep your beard clean and well-groomed, over-washing or over-brushing can actually do more harm than good. This can lead to dryness, breakage, and split ends.

Stay hydrated and eat a healthy diet to promote hair growth and overall health: Drinking plenty of water and eating a healthy diet that is rich in vitamins and minerals can help to promote hair growth and overall health. This can help to keep your beard looking healthy and strong.

Embrace Your Journey

Remember, the journey of beard growth is just as important as the end result. Give yourself permission to celebrate each stage, regardless of how fast or slow your beard develops. Your beard growth is an important part of your self-expression and personal journey.

Surround yourself with a supportive community, seek advice from experienced individuals, and always remember that your worth and masculinity are not solely defined by your facial hair. Embrace the process, cherish every milestone, and most importantly, be proud of who you are becoming.

Now, go forth and embrace your journey to beard growth – You've got this!

#ftm #ftm packer #female to male #pymander #non binary #ftm products #transmasc #ftmpacker #transgender #minoxidil #hair loss #hair growth #beard growth #ftm beard growth #ftm beard #ftm beard gains #ftm masculine #transmasculine #derma roller

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kdinjenzen · 1 year

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Not technically about your boobs (only tangentially I guess?), but I wanted to thank you for being open about being intersex and its effects on your experiences as a trans person. I'm looking into some testing to get a potential intersex condition (probably a weirder one tbh) diagnosed, and into getting put on T after I get some answers about my janked-up body, and it helps to see how well you're faring and how open you are about the whole thing. We're technically on opposite paths, from being given different sides of the spectrum at birth into realizing oneself on the other, but it's still nice to see. Keep being fucking fabulous! 💜

When my doctor was like “okay, you’ll wanna sit down for this one - it’s not BAD, it’s just a lot to take in” when telling me I was intersex, and then going over all the “did you ever deal with (Medical Issue)?” questions, I was so overwhelmed and a bit confused.

It explained a lot of weird things, made a lot of stuff make sense, and then absolutely revealed that my father was not actually my biological father. So it was a FUN DAY!

Honestly, HRT has helped a lot of the stuff I struggled with when it came to hormone regulation as someone who is intersex.

I learned a lot about myself and many others through that experience.

#soft-pink-wilfy #ask me anything #ama

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macgyvermedical · 1 year

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Hey Mac

So i have a question

I got diagnosed with Insulin resistance and the doctor decided to put me on Metformin-for fear of getting type II DM-It runs in ma family-anyway

My question is what does Metformin do to the sugar um ingesting-i mean um trying to cut back but i have this concern-and what if i took something sweet while on it? Um too conscious about this but i can't cope really well with such a drastic change

In order to understand metformin, you have to understand Type 2 Diabetes and the role the hormone insulin plays in regulating blood sugar.

Every cell in your body uses sugar for energy. Blood delivers that sugar to the cells, which keeps them alive. You have an organ called a pancreas that monitors the amount of sugar in the blood and uses hormones to regulate it. When the amount of blood sugar rises (like, after you eat something), the pancreas releases the hormone insulin, which basically tells the cells “okay, we have plenty of food, you can go ahead and use all that tasty sugar for energy.” As the cells use the sugar, they remove it from the blood, and blood sugar drops. If there is more sugar than needed to keep the cells alive and working, that extra sugar gets stored as fat or as a starch called glycogen in the liver and muscles.

When working correctly, this process maintains blood sugar between about 60 and 100 (though it can be higher if the person has recently eaten).

Insulin resistance is when cells stop responding to insulin normally, and it takes more insulin before the cells get the message to start using or storing sugar. Type 2 Diabetes occurs when this gets severe enough that the pancreas can no longer keep the amount of sugar in the blood in a normal range. When the amount of sugar in the blood is higher than normal, it does damage to blood vessels and organs. You may also feel tired and sick if your cells aren’t getting the energy they need. This is why people with Type 2 Diabetes are asked to eat less sugar/carbohydrates (which helps decrease the amount of sugar circulating in the blood), exercise (muscle cells can use some sugar without needing to be sensitive to insulin), and take medications that increase the amount of insulin the pancreas produces or increases cells’ sensitivity to insulin.

Metformin is a drug that works in a few different ways. First, it helps increase cells’ sensitivity to insulin. This helps the cells have a more normal response to insulin- letting them remove and use more of the sugar from the blood. Second, it prevents the uptake of some sugar from the digestive tract. That means you’re only absorbing some of the sugar you eat, and the rest gets pooped out, thus contributing less sugar to your blood. Third, it decreases the amount of sugar that your liver releases when your pancreas releases glucagon. Which is still less sugar that your body has to figure out what to do with.

When you eat sugar/carbohydrates as someone with diabetes or insulin resistance on metformin, you poop some of the sugar out. The remaining sugar enters your blood stream and triggers insulin release, which your cells can use more easily due to the metformin. When your pancreas then releases glucagon, you liver doesn’t release as much sugar as it otherwise would, and your blood sugar stays in a more normal range.

Unlike other drugs that treat T2D, metformin is unique in that it doesn’t cause life-threatening hypoglycemia when taken without the appropriate amount of food. The most common side effects are gastrointestinal, and usually go away in a few weeks. Some research has also shown that people taking metformin tend to have less cardiovascular disease later in life and many lose a small amount of weight. All of these reasons make it a very safe early intervention for people with diabetes and pre-diabetes.

#whump reference #writing reference #type 2 diabetes #diabetes #nursing

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

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Maybe a oneshot where B!D gets diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.

---

You sighed and ran your hand through your hair for seemingly the three hundredth time in half an hour while you were nervously waiting for your GP, who had summoned your sisters and you to her office.

For weeks you had no idea what was happening to you, denying every symptom as if it were kind of like a flu that caused them but didn´t break out properly; the excessive drinking and double the amount of urination, the increased hunger and urge to eat while losing weight and throwing up at the same time, getting up tired from a nine hour sleep and the weakness your body carried with it.

Not to mention the most violent mood swings your sisters have ever experienced with you.

The silence and your ongoing thoughts were interrupted by a heavy swing of the opening door before your doctor walked in. She was young, in her early thirties yet she was far better than anyone that has ever treated you in your life. "Hello, Y/n. Nice that you could come so quickly."

"You said it was urgent so I wasted no time."

Convincingly, she nodded with a soft smile and shook hands with each of your siblings in greeting. Wasting no time, your doctor settled into her much more comfortable looking chair than you were sitting in, being careful over her coat so it didn´t crumple under her.

"So Y/n, I have good and bad news." she started to speak, looking down at her tablet to review your blood results, letting the panic in you rise further with each second that passed. "The good news is; your blood results are almost perfect and you have no signs of kidney failure or anything close to the symptoms."

At that moment, an incredibly large stone fell from your heart and the adrenaline disappeared from your body. However, the panic was not immediately banned; only afterwards did you think about her choice of words and got stuck on one- almost.

"Almost perfect? Doctor, what does that mean?" Kara had taken the question out of your mouth; she too was probably confused by what the doctor said.

"Well, all but one." your doctor now shifted her gaze between the blonde and redhead, probably to add depth to her words. "An increased glucose value can be seen in your sisters venous plasma, and auto antibodies can also be detected in her blood, which should not normally be there."

Alex shifted uncomfortably in her seat and leaned further forward to rest her elbow on the young woman´s wooden desk. She had covered her mouth with her hand and widened worryingly her eyes at you as if she knew what was about to come.

After all, she was the only one of the three of your who had completed medical school.

"Y/n, unfortunately I have to tell you that you have type 1 diabetes." Your heart suddenly dropped and your stomach felt like a roller coaster, the lump in your throat expanded to an abnormal size. You slumped back in your seat, eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty.

Diabetes. You´d had it for roughly four weeks, hence why you felt like crap.

"For understanding; Type 1 Diabetes is a chronic autoimmune disease caused by your pancreas not producing enough insulin. Insulin is the principle hormone in regulating the glucose in your blood and without it, the glucose will not be absorbed properly, resulting in higher blood glucose levels. Higher glucose levels can result in polyuria and polydipsia which means an increase in urination and in thirst which you´re already going through- they are the first steps into this illness."

You only understood half of what she said to you, some words that she had in her vocabulary so complicated that you would have needed a dictionary and a ten-page guide if she wouldn´t explain to you how the further process would work.

"You need to start poke your finger with this little needle poker device here." From a drawer in her desk, she pulled out a burgundy, funny-looking thing and laid it in your hands that you had already outstretched, longing for this device that´s gonna save your ass probably more times that you´re going to count.

Your sisters also leaned into you to see for themselves what it was. They listened intently to offer you the best support they could give you, swallowing every information they could get. "And then you have this little thing here, which will read the level of your blood sugar. Also you have to inject yourself insulin manually into your leg or stomach- wherever you´re comfortable."

You rolled your eyes and put the thing back on the table; annoyed.

To put it into other words- type 1 diabetes was a fucking annoying disease where your body randomly decided to give you a big "FUCK YOU!" and stop giving your body what it craved. And unless you got it under control, your organs could fail.

But you didn´t seem aware of this.

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drdemonprince · 1 year

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I know people got angry about the "talking about caffeine like any other drug" thing but I think it's so helpful not just to discuss the arbitrary lines between legal and illegal substances but also for informed consent purposes *with* caffeine itself. For example my use of alcohol has changed drastically since reading Unmasking Autism because I didn't realize I was only able to interact with allistics in the context of relaxed social rules when everybody was drinking. Now that I have that information my decisions around it are much different (basically using alcohol only when I *want* to get the feelings it gives me, and when I have to interact with people using other coping strategies instead).

I can't quit caffeine right now, but I might reduce its use in the future and only use it when I want that caffeinated feeling and not to keep up with work like I do now. Which I didn't even think about before, precisely because even though I rationally knew it was a drug I never thought of it as a "drug-drug".

Yo yessss thank you!!! Informed consent means being fully apprised of the risks and benefits of a substance, and having the freedom to choose when to use it. Currently, very few of us enjoy that level of empowered freedom with just about any substance that we use.

Our doctors don't tell us about all the risks of the drugs we are on (I'm still bitter as hell nobody told me that my muscle development would be stunted by going on hormonal birth control at 18!!! and that it would give me lasting breast growth), and the substances that are not medically prescribed but legal are ones that many of us quaff without thought, and without ever being told the effects of. For instance, did you know prolonged use of Benadryl increases the risk of developing Alzheimers??? I didn't! and i was using that shit to fall asleep and regulate anxiety for a time!!

In the United States in particular there is no open conversation with young people about the potential effects of alcohol, how the drug can act like a mild stimulant in smaller doses but then ricochet into massively depressing effects after hours of use, with an anxiety spike hours beyond that as it leaves the system. We don't talk to people about the effects of caffeine -- and that it's not necessarily normal for so many people to deal with daily gastric issues, trouble falling asleep, trouble sitting still, and intense irritability all day long as presently do.

Some people are just like that, some people have anxiety disorders and benefit from anti-anxiety meds to treat those symptoms, some people find ways of coping with it that involve mindfulness or meditation or whatever else -- but a great number of people who experience these issues are only going through them because they're on caffeine and they're working too hard. And what they've come to believe is an inevitable part of their chemistry is in fact economically and socially created from the outside, and could be prevented if they were only able to stop.

but many of them can't stop. because of capitalism. and so they aren't informed about the real risks & costs of the substances they are using, and they aren't freely able to revoke their (dubious) consent.

meanwhile as someone who only started using weed regularly about a year and a half ago and who is now curious about trying psychedelics, ive been lovingly inundated in helpful tips, usage guides, listings of various strains and their distinct effects, lab results testing doses, etc from the people I know who are passionate about those substances and want to ensure that anybody else using them has a good time.

I don't want to paint these substances with a pollyannaish brush either -- weed can trigger hallucinations and psychotic episodes in some segments of the population, a fact that too many ardent weed heads ignore -- but the difference in the level of control I have over my experience as a weed user and the utter lack of information and self-determination I have when seeking out prescribed meds, or even ingesting caffeine, is unreal.

So many foods covertly contain caffeine or openly are caffeinated yet don't document how many milligrams of the substance it has, for example. It's impossible to safely and responsibly use a substance when you don't even know how much you're getting, and it's bizarre we're all being dosed with stimulants all day long often without even realizing it.

this might seem like a low-importance example, and people will say to me dismissively that caffeine doesn't ruin any lives, but when I look back on how much I've used the substance to further my eating disorder and how many people i've been short and cruel-tempered with over the years because i was downing cups and cups of the stuff all day without reflection, i'm not sure i believe that argument.

but of course all roads in this conversation lead back to capitalism. i wouldnt have been drinking this stuff with abandon if i hadn't been trying to shove three days of work into a single 8 hours, and if my culture and economic system hadn't been foisting the stuff on me from day one.

my uncle says that i was always a deeply anxious kid, i guess it was something that my grandmother fretted about as well, and yet when i decided in my teens to start boosting that anxiety with caffeine every day, and became even more moody and negative, nobody connected the dots, and nobody thought to warn me. and why would they, nobody warned them.

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mittenwonders · 14 days

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That School of Rock post got me crying right now!

I hate people and this world sometimes. You can be brilliant, funny, compassionate and have the biggest heart but if you’re fat - well that’s all anyone notices. And the jokes start or a keyboard warrior starts typing a million times that “we shouldn’t be promoting obesity!!”

Even this article by Forbes….fricken Forbes is counterproductive talking about acceptance and then how that acceptance is causing obesity!!

No, what’s causing obesity is our food sources because the FDA doesn’t regulate what goes into our food. And who’s responsible for that? Lobbyist and politicians who take corporate bribes that create profits for companies. Clean food is also not accessible to all - especially low income families and neighborhoods. All the added preservatives that increase shelf life in the US has fucked up our DNA after decades of consuming it all. Obesity is genetic at this point and you can find this in many published medical journals. Why do you think many families usually are all on the heavier side? It’s rare to find only one person in a family who is bigger. Even when I was little and skinny as hell, my arms still were on the bigger side because of my lovely mother’s side genetics. All the women on that side have the same exact arms.

Medical conditions also increase the likelihood of being fat. Women for instance usually struggle with weight more because we have uterus’ and constantly have hormones trying to balance itself out every month. You will never find a woman with a completely flat stomach as the uterus changes throughout the month and causes bloating. As one breast doctor told me during a breast cancer scare, “your body is mad at you because it wants to have a baby!” I wish that wasn’t real. Things such as endometriosis, PCOS and other uterine/ovarian disorders contribute highly to weight gain. Thyroid disorders can cause extreme weight gain for both men and women. And medications for various illnesses, including birth control can contribute to it as well even though they’ll say it doesn’t. Steroids are another culprit but usually when you’re put on steroids, it’s a pretty bad disease fighting inflammation.

As someone with autoimmune diseases that also contains the thyroid (Hashimoto’s), I can say that when my joints act up due to arthritis, I can’t move some days. Literally I wake up with morning stiffness & can’t move. Of course I’m not going to work out in agonizing pain to the point I have to rely on opioids later. Weight gain also comes on, no matter how clean you eat, from lack of movement caused by underlying illnesses. In fact Hashimoto’s is often treated differently than regular hypothyroidism. Every year my thyroid medicine increased until I finally got sent to an endocrinologist at University of Michigan who was like “yo you know you have this right?” NEWS TO ME!! I actually have to take two diff thyroid meds to treat it and I have to be on name brand synthroid. I learned that generics only have to contain so much of the actual medicine. The rest is random fillers and it can change company to company. It’s up to the pharmacy to choose their suppliers and often it changes due to bids by companies and whoever is cheaper. So even though you think you’re taking the same medicine every month, you’re really not and your dosing is getting thrown off. Only the name brand has the patent to have the full formula. Generics are “may god be with you” energy. (Fuck capitalism and again, our FDA who is loyal to lobbyists) Since I have changed to name brand and been on the new treatment, I did lose 40lb. And my insurance still tries to fight me for using the name brand because it costs them more. So now we have to fight for clean food and the correct medicine.

I can’t be sad I’m fat…I have the trifecta of everything described above: genetics, woman, grew up very poor, ovarian cyst for 8 years, autoimmune diseases and medications. It’s kind of like no wonder!! But if I express this to anyone, its always “well do something about it then! Diet!”

I do work out regularly as much as I can. I do try to watch what I eat. I also deal with chronic major depressive disorder so sometimes food is a comfort like it is for many because it’s something I feel I have control over (I don’t). It’s better than cutting I guess. However it just went from one out of control coping mechanism to another. I’ve been in counseling for 3 years (well she’s fired now as of yesterday) but I have had to learn to have a better relationship with food. I don’t view working out or eating better as a means to lose weight but as a way to just make sure I’m as healthy as possible. I also eat cake. I allow myself to indulge still in small doses because when you try to take everything away, you’re asking for relapse or binge eating. It’s been great and it did have a positive shift for my mental health too.

I also see my 9 yo niece struggling in school with this. She’s bigger and maybe its genetics but mostly she has an extremely rare metabolic disorder. Literally only 20 kids in the US have it and 4 have died in her age bracket since she was born. Her body does not break down long chain fatty acids so since she was a baby, she has been on special formulas and has had to watch every spec of food she consumes. She’s been in and out of children’s hospital more times than I can count on my hands. It’s been noted so far from what they know of the disease that kids usually have bellies. She did as a baby and as she was still growing. Kids do learn from their parents though and she did deal with unfortunate bullying last year due to being “fat.” They’re 3rd grade!!! I never want her to go through what I went through as middle school is what really fucked me up, so I do check myself before I talk out loud about myself around her. I do work out with her sometimes but I don’t use the term and I do random things like dance parties in the kitchen with her instead so she doesn’t think it’s about losing weight or a “work out” but we’re just vibing while blasting Harry Styles. We always use the terms “healthy choices” in place of anything and it’s been effective overall in her relationship with food and dealing with some asstwat kids at school. I want her to have all the resources and tools that I didn’t have when I was younger. Her confidence has soared this year & she’s really come into her own and I’m so damn proud of her!!

However, all it takes is one doctors visit of weighing you or a run in with someone cruel in public or going online to watch a fun video just to see an unnecessary comment about promoting fat people that is so out of context. Look - if I was given Ozempic as an option tomorrow, I will be honest and say I would definitely take it. I am nervously talking to my doctor this Thursday about a possible action plan. There comes a point when you’re just tired and you want to be fully accepted and something has to give. I shouldn’t have to change anything about myself but when I just want to feel seen as myself instead of the funny fat girl, it seems I don’t have any other choice. I know my worth and I do truly love myself as a person but I do hate the shell I have been given in life. It is hard when no one will listen and your day to day is a never ending fight in a world that is overall bitter and cruel.

It’s like my coworker: I love her dearly I do, but she was just diagnosed with a kidney disorder. She vented to me how she does everything right, she’s fit and not overweight, she watches what she eats etc and doesn’t understand why she’s sick. Meanwhile I’m just chilling there listening. Then she quickly realized her comments about weight and apologized. Yes I have autoimmune issues but overall I have perfect blood pressure, I’m not even pre-diabetic which every doctor almost hopes for, I don’t have sleep apnea (which they try to shove on me) - I’m pretty healthy! Doctors have been biased for decades but have learned health is not actually always dependent on size. It’s why most have had to go through training again to learn bias against patients and they can’t automatically jump to weight as the problem anymore. So many lives have been lost because they weren’t diagnosed correctly and the cancer that spread was blamed on their weight. 🙄

Which all leads me to this fun fact about the body positive movement which is that it was created in the 1960’s as part of a fat-acceptance movement. It was literally created for fat people!! We have been wanting to be heard and seen for so long!! But the body positivity movement got hijacked as a way to say “all body shapes are loved!!” I swear, this is the same concept equivalence as when black people said “black lives matter!!” and others said “but all lives matter.” You defeat the message of that group wanting to be fucking seen and heard!!!

We are not saying thin people should not love themselves or what the correct body type should be. I understand some people want to gain weight and struggle. But fat people are the ones actively targeted and our lives made hell for almost every single day of our lives. We are not allowed anywhere near the performing arts unless you do opera because hahaha the fat lady sings and the media and Hollywood actively shames us. I originally wanted to go into music professionally; much of my childhood was performing arts camps and most of high school was not only school classes but actively participating in state competitions and placing! But I was told from nearly every adult, including teachers that I was too fat and would be living in a box struggling. Childhood dreams/ambitions crushed in a single minute. From bullying at school, to bullying online to not being able to go shopping with your friends because you have to shop in a different section or store altogether, constantly having diets shoved in your face or backhanded comments of “do you really need that?” The usual “why don’t you try to lose weight” all the time is not productive. You don’t think the person has tried? Also never ask someone if they lost weight…or how good you think they look once you notice they have. It mentally fucks a person up way more long term. Tell them they look great and you think they’re pretty now while they’re fat. The diet industry makes billions every year for promises that don’t do anything. I’m sad they even got some of my money at points in my life.

Even airline travel as airlines make the seats smaller and smaller. I think it’s a fricken shame a person is forced to buy two seats for something that could be totally prevented if airlines weren’t so greedy to fit as many people possible on a plane. On top of it, they must ask out loud for seatbelt extenders. I have seen videos of people trying to show what it’s like to travel as a fat person and the comments are awful. Saying they shouldn’t fly and shouldn’t do this or that. Ok - say she is trying to actively lose weight right now….you know you don’t lose weight overnight right?? Even when you have weight loss surgery, it takes time. So in the meantime, she’s just not supposed to do things like travel? You want us all locked up in basements so you feel better not having to see us? That’s what we should do?!? And then people wonder why fat people have some of the highest suicide statistics. I know that was the personal reason I tried in high school. If you see the semicolon tattoo on someone, that means they once tried to take their life but kept going. I will say 90% of people I have seen this tattoo on are plus sized. I’ve often thought of getting this tattoo myself as a means to spread awareness or let someone else who is silently struggling know “I got you” but that’s for another topic.

What I am trying to get at (while obviously venting at the same time) is that the body positivity movement is great I guess but it has taken away from fat acceptance which was the hallmark of the movement and started by fat people. Because of this, people have found a way to just put the blame back on fat people being lazy, unworthy, and undeserving again and the cycle continues. The movement goes on to celebrate bodies that are already highly celebrated and looked up to for inspiration today with or without the movement!! The movement has entirely forgotten its roots.

You don’t have to look hard to find some of the top google searches for body positivity show articles like that Forbes article above and other random little articles like these:

Ah but it is fat shaming, Jess!! Hypocritical articles everywhere!!! They really think they’re helping and doing something here but instead are creating more mental health issues and more fat people. Shaming just doesn’t work the way people think it should work.

Fat people matter. Our lives matter and we are valuable. THE END! We shouldn’t have to hide because society has been conditioned to believe we should not be seen or that we are gross. Or that we have some sick agenda to spread and make sure others are fat too. We have feelings, we have emotions, we have brains, we have talents - we are people and bleed just the same. I’m tired of seeing the mental health statistics that our community goes through and if I hear one more skinny person say they matter too, Imma lose it because you’re not actively listening to understand! You do not know the daily struggle!! Be an ally, learn, and put yourself in our shoes!! Empathy goes a long ass way in spreading acceptance.

#fat acceptance #body posititivity #i’m tired #hypocrites everywhere #be an ally #mental heath support #mental health awareness #depression

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