went to see the geneticist about that whole cancer thing today so. I’m gonna put a read more, because I tend to ramble, and then I’m gonna fucking shout into the void because American Healthcare would prefer if you’d be so kind as to just shut up and die quickly, please.

Sixty minutes. Sixty minutes I spent with this woman carefully explaining to me how this test would work and why she thinks I should do it. forty of those minutes she said things like, “your family history is… a lot,” “Family is only ten percent of the equation so don’t panic too much,” “But your risk is still probably somewhere around 30% and if this test is postitive that bumps right up to EIGHTY—,” (Insert in-depth but understandable explanation of genes and terms I only half remember now but was fascinating at the time tbh)

I loved her, she was fantastic. And then. And then.

She put down all her files and folded her hands on the table. This woman went from sweet and professional and kind right to the type of bone-deep sorrow that’s got nowhere to go so it builds.

“First, I need you to know that I believe in what we do here. It sounds like this test would alleviate a lot of your concerns, no matter what the results. I do feel that you should get this screening done, for yourself and your kids. However.”

And she stopped, and took a deep breath. “The good news is, we’ve passed a law so that a positive test cannot influence your health insurance in anyway. We’re not even required to give them your results. The problem with that, is the law comes with loopholes. If you come back positive, we are legally required to give that information to certain places upon being asked. And if you do not have these programs already in place, it will be very difficult to get them after a positive, because a positive is considered a pre-existing condition. Life insurance companies. Disability. If you ever need long-term or in-home care. These places will look at that positive and, at the very least, raise your potential rates.” “So,” I said, like an idiot who should’ve known better but was too busy focusing on how this test meant I’d finally fucking know just how worried I should be, “You’re saying that this test, which is preventative care, would make it impossible to get the programs I’d need, if and when I actually get sick.”

“They don’t see you as a person,” she answers. She sounds so fucking tired. She’s said this so often the words have carved grooves into her mouth. They probably don’t hurt anymore, but she looks like she wishes they would. “They’re a business first and only.”

“I’m aware of how capitalism works, yes. I’d apparently forgotten how much it would prefer I die without inconveniencing the system supposedly designed to help me.” Then I apologize for allowing the angry millennial in me control of my tongue.

She just shakes her head. “Honey. I’m right there with you.”

I don’t know what the right answer is here. I don’t HAVE life insurance. We can’t afford it. My partner gets his through the military, which means I’m only eligible if we get hitched. But if we do that, me and all three kids lose healthcare entirely. Stars forbid something actually fucking happens to me. “I can’t tell you the right answer here. All I can do is tell you what I’ve seen happen. There was a woman, not too long ago, who’s got a similar background to you. Small kids and all.” The geneticist looks down at her hands. “I told her the same thing. She decided to go ahead despite not having these programs set up in advance.” She puts both hands up, like she’s warding me off, but you and I already know how this ends. “I have to make sure you know, we did not anticipate a positive at all. At all. But she came back positive, and now she’s having a nightmare trying to set up some kind of life insurance to take care of her kids in case something does pop up.” “You mean they’re turning her away, or asking for insane amounts of money, because they’d rather she die than help. Y’know. Like they’re supposed to. Because the healthcare part of this is caring for my health.”

“You’d think,” She said. I wonder how she sleeps, when she’s pulled so thin. How she can still go to work, when she knows exactly the potential, the help she’s offering, and how the system itself snatches it away from her over and over and over again.

I left with her card in my pocket, and the promise that they’ll get me in for that screening if I call for one. Now, a year, ten years. They’ll get me in. So. Do I fuck myself over now, or wait until the threat of cancer becomes a reality, and get fucked over then? I started this angry. It’s probably pretty clear when that drained right out into tired. I’m so tired. I want to cry. This was meant to give us a better way forward. This was meant to answer questions, and let us know how worried we should be about our kids. This is such a small thing. This is SUCH A SMALL THING. One test. 36 genes. So many cancers, the breast and the ovarian I’m terrified will come for me next, like so many other of my family’s stellar gifts. What is the point of this, if I’m going to end up punished so severely I might be denied actual care over it?

I think, really, what’s got me fucked up the most is that I should have seen this coming. I should have known better. I should not have been waiting to put down all that anxiety because I was so caught up in ‘I’ll KNOW.’

Fucking fuck.

The middle kid’s waiting to hear back on whether or not the insurance has decided he’s allowed to have fucking braces, and I thought I’d get to just know my risks of getting sick without there being a consequence. Specialists are telling me I should be so very worried about my cancer risks.

Ten years to even see her. And I’m back at square one, with a pcp who’s going to look at me in a few months, sidestep all my questions and go, “I thought you were going to try and lose a few pounds? What happened to weight watchers?”

What happened is, I’m counting points and counting calories and counting fucking steps and not losing weight, because the body doesn’t work like that. I might be teetering on developing a fucking eating disorder instead, but that’s between me and myfitnesspal/weightwatchers. But also: my weight is not the fucking problem. This was such a small thing. If I end up actually with the cancer everyone’s spent so long warning me about, what then? When it’s not such a small thing? What are the consequences for us then? THIS WAS MEANT TO BE A SMALL THING. QUICK. EASY. I’m not even fucking sick! THIS WAS A PREVENTATIVE MEASURE.

American healthcare is violence.

If it’s like this and I’m not even sick, how fucking awful is it for people who ARE?

Vote blue down the ballot, in the hopes that some fucking day our healthcare will actually fucking care.

I just noticed Mephisto matches with Barbatos (who is matchy with Diavolo) in the anniversary outfits in his SSR memory card

These three were also the only three who had half masks in the masquerade event!!!

Anyway, The Royals with Mephisto chat group when? We got one for Purgatory Hall with Raphael..... it's just fair !!

And one for Mephisto and Diavolo as well, but also one for Mephisto and Barbatos too. because you can't tell me their relationship isn't deeper than the devs portray when Mephisto has lines like this about Barbatos's room:

The only time I look tall pt. 2 (눈‸눈)

I hate when bitches try and feel guilty about resting ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY NEED IT

i am a terrible person, but a proud one.

i just offered my grandma a broomstick and asked her to fly, she wanted to know why and i told her it’s because witches fly 💀

Something old, and Something new

That's a really deep title for a journal entry about mundane human activities.

I have to admit, I didn't do much today. My husband kind of took the lead on a bunch of stuff so I could sit on my ass. I did cook dinner for us, and I parented a bunch. We're trying to detoxify our oldest from TV. Aside from initial upsets, she's doing great. The wee one's naps have been thrown for a loop, so that's really great.

So what my title is referencing is actually more about the hobbies I participate in today. I finished up The Happiness Project, which inspired my happiness project. And lo and behold, my husband was right. This project is not going to be a fix all for my life. I knew that. By the way. This was just a place to start that my Type A brain can get behind. Goals. Themes. Good for my brain. So I stated a new book (Momma Cusses: A Field Guide to.... lots of other stuff, it's a huge title). If you're a parent, I suggest you read it and find her social medias. She's amazing. So, out with the happiness project, in with the parenting/ not parenting book (read the book, you'll get the reference).

Video games had the same thing today. Played both a new video game I've grown to love and be attached too (Disney Dreamlight Valley), as well as rediscovering the Sims 4 and my love for that game.

It was an interesting day.

Tomorrow I celebrate Ostara (very late) with my family and then Easter with the in laws. Send good vibes please.

Boring entry today. Sorry. Final Happiness Project post tomorrow for this month, and the set up for next month.

Thanks for listening as always, Void. Good night.

as a christian saying this, nobody is more of a bigot than Christians and then wanna cry wolf when they’re attacked

I love how Sokka’s memory of his mother acts as his moral compass a lot of the time in LIAB. Esp since in canon we know Zuko got a lot of his moral compass from his mom too <3

Awwwww I am so glad you picked up on that. It happened more frequently in LIAB back when Sokka was still holding onto his innocence & found comfort in his memories.

I always felt bad that Sokka’s pain from losing his mother was overlooked because he was quieter about it. I like to think Kya had a big impact on her son, just like Ursa did with Zuko.

Thanks for the sweet ask anon <3

Gonna rant a bit:

Stumbled across another post demanding everyone who follows that person put their age into their bio upon pain of being blocked. This is to prevent minors from looking at their posts.

So. To protect the tiny innocent little babes. You are telling them. To put their age. Online.

You are telling minors to tell you they are a minor.

You are trying to force minors to out themselves and claiming it’s for *your* safety? I’m???

Fandom, we’ve made a shape, but I’m not sure it’s a fucking circle.

I cannot stress this enough, if you are a minor do not tell anyone, literally fucking anyone, your age, your real name, or your location. You owe no one that information. Handing that out is dangerous.

Become a fucking cryptid, kid, tell no one shit about you.

You are now an OC.

You have heterochromatic eyes, magic powers, are older than the sun, live in a teapot, and when you see preps you put up your middle finger at them (but not really because you are laying low. You are quiet. So quiet. Shh. Leave little love notes where you will, but you are being sneaky! So sneaky. Because the first rule of infiltration is shut the fuuuuuck uuuuuup oh my god I am so serious.)

I’ve got a teen and a preteen beginning to feel out unfettered access to the internet, and I don’t really think I’d internalized how drastically different kids’ experiences are now. Full fucking offense, but rule numero uno for my monsters being allowed to more actively engage in fandom was lie your ass off. Second was be kind, be kind, be kind, and third was the block button and the back buttons are your new besties, use them well and often.

Fourth, because these are my kids, was that I expect them to come talk to me when they run into weird or upsetting or baffling shit. Literally whenever.

Oh hidden minors of tumblr: find a friend, a sibling, an actual adult in the real world you can comfortably talk to about shit you find in the insanity of the internet, I’m begging you.

My entrance onto the great wild internet was “Everyone there wants to murder you and eat your eyes, so like, stick to these two websites and nowhere else.” I…did not stay there. I did however develop a fascination with the screensaver and the fuckin…. Pinball thing. Solitaire. Oh, and fanfic. Just. So much fanfic. Literally fucking saved my sanity, by the way, by giving me a place to just. Exist.

Yes, yes, people have a right to curate their spaces and it makes some people uncomfortable to know kids are looking at their shit.

There are kids looking at your shit, man. This is what kids do. This is what I did. Those sites that required a fuckin’ birthday or a special password? I was absolutely not over majority. “Adult only” spaces are valid and all, but please, please stop demanding kids tell you their exact fucking ages.

And for the random ‘wow, so you want your kids to have access to things I dislike and have deemed bad? How bad of a parent are you?” I’d like to point out that the first time I read sex it was in an actual physical novel that my mother handed to me— a gift from one of her nursing home clients. It was. Bad. So much sexual violence. Extremely graphic. Fucked me up for a while, and when I tried to talk to the adult in my life, I was told I was being a little bitch and just wasn’t mature enough to handle a little romance.

I was like. Ten. Maybe.

What I want? Is to know that my kids have a safe space. I am that space. And I’m teaching them how to turn their online experience into as happy a bubble as I can.

Kids are gonna find fucked up shit. There are ways upon ways to make it better but this whole ‘you HAVE to put this personal information in your header because, *I*, some random blog on Tumblr, have decreed it a requirement for Being Able To Look At Me’ is. Maybe not it.

Tl;dr: if you are a kid: shush about it. Be kind, be quiet, hang out. If you are an adult, do not. Do not tell kids to give you personal information. Just. Don’t.

what if i just traumatized myself into fearing relationships and made myself delusional that im okay with that wouldnt that be fun

"Fun fact about me... if you come to my house while I'm making pasta and telling me that I am doing it wrong, you're going to be served something else for dinner."

I LOCKED MY KEYS INSIDE MY HOUSE

asian moment where you have to laugh at what ur mum just said even though its super hurtful and i will probably internalise it for months to come 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Hiatus Notice

Look I’m gonna be honest...Continued under the cut

No if, but’s or maybe’s about it; I’m suffering from winter depression again.

October, November and December are the worst months for me for many, many reasons. Something just always happens in those months. Every year. No exceptions.

And it ain’t good things that happen.

I’m not myself these months, so I close myself off. I don’t wanna bother anyone.

I can’t even find fun in writing. Nor an escape. Yep....it’s that bad.

So....I won’t be here for the next two months.

I’d say you can ask for my disco.rd, but yeah...I probably won’t be very talkative on there either.

You can try to bug my muses on wire--- See pinned post.

I guess I’ll see you all when I get back.

If I don’t see you anymore, I understand. No hard feelings.

All the best.

Am I one of the only people who thinks that writers and artists who make Killer, Ink, or whoever the mom when there's a shipkid involved or even just a simple relationship really odd?

They just make one of them the mom and sometimes have them act completely different (I mean WAY different) from canon- I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS THAT'S STRANGE, RIGHT??

If it's because they have the headcanon or in the story it's canon that, for example, Nightmare is a trans woman, or the character has clearly stated they prefer to be called mother beforehand, than valid! But if they are both regarded as dudes, prefer masculine pronouns and identification, but then they're the mother simply because they 'are the more submissive/nicer one' (sometimes it's just because that individual character carried the child if it's mpreg), THAT'S REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE, MAN.

It's a relationship between two men, there is no automatic woman role. It is a child with two men as their parents, there is no automatic mother role.

If I used weird English or something seems confusing, please don't yell at me, just reblog or comment with a question about it and I'll reword what I meant 👍

Too long;Didn't Read: I'm weirded out that some creators basically unconsciously or consciously enforce heteronormative roles on fictional skeletons in relationships of all kinds.

No cause, you wanna know the one thing that still baffles me to this day about the Yagami Yato crusaders that defended that nasty ass white woman with the last breath in their lungs?

Alotta of them bitches was grown grown like fully 38 married with children grown posting tik toks to Yagami yato audios with their families...like...ARE YOU CRAZY. I remember seeing people in their 20s talmbout some "Lol having my mom react to Yagami yato audios 😜" like...