#tw; medication
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update 5 - 10 - 22
Hi.
My brain won’t shut up and as per usual I’m hiding everything underneath a cut because I feel like my feelings are a bother to people. And I get it. There’s going to be at least one of you who tries to tell me. “Your feelings aren’t a bother Kira!” I know that logically, but it does not stop my brain and my heart from feeling that way.
So now here I am ready to explain my existence to you because my brain won’t let me write and it won’t let me draw either and today I feel like a failure of a human being because I can’t handle stress and worse I can’t even cry to cope. So here we are.
So all that personal shit I don’t talk about.
I almost lost my migraine prescription this week.
So context for those unaware: I have a lot of medical issues. I take a monthly preventive shot to contend to my migraines and I have for well over a couple years now. It doesn’t make them go away completely but it does make them less and I haven’t had to go to the ER recently because of them so I mean 😀 that’s a plus.
The downside to this is, while it helps control my migraines pretty well, if I fall off it, as I did a couple times last year because of pharmacy screw ups - I end up out of work for however long it takes to get back to me and in urgent care because I get migraines so bad that I get so dizzy I’m unable to stand. So I mean fuck driving at that point right?
So I almost lost it because I got a text message telling me that my prescription had been changed / canceled and I freaked out and called the hospital like it told me to and they told me they didn’t know what I was talking about and didn’t have a record, etc. I basically had to hold my breath for the lady who fills my script to call this week, thank god she did. That was a mini-heart attack.
As for work, I’m on burn out. My Lead worker / direct Boss told me in feb. that he was getting ready to retire Spring 2023 and he needed to make sure he was getting everything around so I could take over. Today he says “I dunno when I’ll retire, haven’t decided yet maybe if Chris (his boss my boss-boss) pisses me off. Rumor some how got around that he was planning on retiring and because it got back to him he pulled back all plans out of spite. I have no idea when he’s going to retire now.
For those of you who have listened to my work rants (for many years now) know how devastating of a blow this is for me. There was a plan and he reneged on me. So basically long story short when it comes to work -> I’m still stuck doing almost all the manager work but not getting paid for it. And Chris - my big boss - knows it’s going on and does nothing about it. I’m burnt out. My boss, Terry, literally looked at me and was like “it’s chill day, just do whatever.” because he didn’t feel like working and knows I will keep busy all day on my own.
What the fuck.
So I’ve been fighting the depression side of my bipolar for a little more than a month and half now:
Look I am over 1400 entries solid into this app. It is accurate to the day. I haven’t missed a day since 2018. Things have not been good. I keep trying to claw my way out of it. I have using every tool I have in my tool box but nothing is helping. My SOS is busted. Nothing works.
the kick in the ass is this is from before my idiot physiatrist started taking my anti-convulsant away:
But it’s not “doing anything” he says. I have taken anti-seizure medication for four years to help mood control and this fucker who barely talks or sees me since Aug 2021 decides that all the doctors before him and in my 13 years of being diagnosed with this suddenly decides I don’t “experience mania” and “Are you sure it’s depression? I haven’t really seen you sad.” SO he decides to look at one of my two mood stabilizers (the other is an anti-psychotic) and just go “yeah it’s not working let’s get rid of it.” but knows nothing about what I'm going through or dealing with - you know things that effect my mood - and just starts trying to take me down on it. He already tried to rip me off the other one that controls my mania and proceeded to throw me into a two week manic episode as a result.
“I think you were having a manic episode.” I wanted to scream.
ANYWAY.
So that’s all going on. Away from the medical and work bullshit.
Here’s the thing I don’t think I’ve ever been clear about, so me being me - who instantly feels like a disgrace of a human being and the scum of the earth when I think I’m not being clear and I think I’ve been misunderstood again ->
If I’ve never said this to you before I’m autistic. There is no such thing as High Functioning / Low Functioning so don’t ask me that or even say it to me. I’ll scream.
So to get that ableist bullshit out of the way ->
High Functioning + Impairment = I’m going to deny you care because I don’t see your disability as valid enough to give you consideration or accommodation.
Low Functioning + Impairment = I’m going to deny you validity because I see your disability as so aggrieviously detrimental to me that I’m not only going to refuse to help you with it but I won’t acknowledge you as a fully functional human either.
Just don’t fucking say it to me.
So with that out of the way, I need you to know, sometimes I go nonverbal. Sometimes it’s partial. Sometimes It’s completely. Sometimes it’s text. Sometimes it’s verbal. Sometimes it’s both.
Sometimes I can only speak / type in few words and that’s it
Sometimes all you’re getting out of me is GIFs and Emojis.
I need you to bear with me for this. I need you to bear with me. Sometimes I simply cannot talk and I also need you all to know and realize for me that talking and writing a post / story is not mutually the same. When I am IC that is my muse writing, not me. I am simply conveying a story through a muse, I am not processing real world shit.
Guys, if you’re new around here or I haven’t said this to you before. I write to cope. It’s not the same.
And for the new people, the rest of my medical issues include: C-PTSD, Anxiety, Depression, Bipolar 2 rapid cycling, insomnia, chronic migraines
I take a lot of meds, and there is a small patch work system of people holding me together.
I am also a survivor of: Abuse, isolation (the act of being; not self imposed) , sexual assault, martial rape, gaslighting, and weaponized silence.
Do I owe you my life story? No. Do I feel like it helps me know someone as a person if I know a little of what they have going on? Absolutely. Do expect people to tell me what they got going on? Nope. Absolutely not.
But I have been misunderstood and dismissed and passed over and talked over and ignored etc so many times I have become an information dumper and I do this because my brain is begging to be seen clearly for once and to just have someone accept me even if they don’t get it.
Guys I have been in shut down all week day and I’m fighting so desperately to get out of his hole but here we are. With the ground breaking out from under us again. This isn’t a pity post, to clarify.
Nothing lights my brain on fire faster than pity. I will tell you right now my brain little instantly light to “I don’t want your fucking pity” just so you know it’s a trigger. This also isn’t a “tell me how strong I am” post because every time I’m told I’m strong my brain shuts down and stops working because the minute I hear the word ‘strong’ in relation to me my brain falls into that’s all you’re allowed to be mode and I shut down every emotional function and process I had currently active.
Guys I can’t grin and bear it anymore.
Can I get off this ride? This roller coaster is 0/10. Do not recommend. I’d like to stop now.
If only I could actually cry.
#ooc || mun speaks#tw; long post#tw; medical#tw; mental illness#tw; all caps#tw; personal#tw; doctors#tw; medication#tw; work stuff
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look at my doctors dawg im gonna die
#hate crimes md#tw medical#tw iv#tw needles#tw syringe#james wilson#gregory house#greg house#dr wilson#dr house#hilson#doctor house#house md#house x wilson#wilson x house
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dragon meat, you, and me
#marcille donato#falin touden#farcille#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#tw blood#tw body horror#tw gore#as a normal farcille fan this revival has been on my mind since i first read it and getting to watch it is like yippee!!#like messy revivals are everything - the consequences that will haunt u for the rest of the time they are alive#the initial hopeful moments where it all seemed well but quickly descend to That not being the case - losing not only the bit of evidence#evidence that your dream may work out but also someone you deeply care about in the process… marcille my Beloved#ofc wholly thruout the journey - at the forefront of it - getting falin back was the most crucial point but so wuickly :(( it was lost#on the other end its crazy to think about the compoments of falin now - human - dragon (dungeon) - marcille’s magic and desperation#the food the crew cooked (digested) - she is made of many parts!!#also i did not realize how medical it feels to draw smth like this. i dont usually explore the inner parts or use a lot of blood#in my work so rendering everything and looking up refs it felt quite magical (?)#ruporas art
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My fav version of poison ivys power origin story is a lá Thorns (medically tortured as a kid) and when she learns about a literal child following batman around she FREAKS OUT.
Ivy gets batman alone then serves him a total curveball: she wants to vaccinate Robin from most of her toxins. Bruce thinks it’s a trap until word on the street is that Scarecrow and joker had multiple poisons stolen. He confronts ivy and she admits to stealing them but it’s for the proposed vaccine for Robin.
The rules are that he’s not allowed any samples of the vaccine, and Robin stays with her for three hours for the vaccine to fully absorb into his system. Batman can stay with him, but only in the same room as she might need to use lab equipment.
So every Robin gets the very odd experience of having their biannual vaccine from Dr. Poison Ivy, where they are all on their best behavior and get biodegradable stickers while Bruce just very patiently sits next to them like >:| with one of those temperature guns aimed at their heads
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Fat people deserve mobility aids, too. No matter if it's connected to their fatness or not, because having a mobility issue that is connected to one's fatness won't change that they're still fat and still have the issue at hand. Fat people don't deserve to "tough it out" because fatness should be this divine punishment doled out to those who "deserve" it. Fat disabled people deserve to have the peace of mind that they can exist in whatever way is most comfortable and accessible to them
#disability#ableism#ableism tw#fatphobia#fatphobia tw#also if it's an issue solved by weight loss why would you want them to suffer until the weight loss helps wouldn't that DISCOURAGE them?#because if i were suffering the entire time i sure as fuck wouldn't want to keep going for the ~idea~ of it's gonna pay off!!!#also even if they 'made themself disabled' by being fat or anything else that doesn't matter. they're still disabled.#there is no 'good' disabled and 'bad' disabled and you cannot sort people into those categories#for every 'bad' fat disabled person there are multiple 'good' fat disabled people but you can't tell them apart often actually!#because you would have to know the intimate details of their medical history and familial lineage and tbh if you're...#...being a piece of shit to a disabled person because you assume they're guilty until proven innocent i don't blame others for being...#...weary of you and not wanting to be around you. because you've already proven you can't handle the IDEA of complex disabled experience
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"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."
The body didn't move.
"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."
And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.
Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.
The dead body sat up.
Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"
Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.
Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.
"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."
The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.
"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."
The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.
It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.
#I'm very pro Danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of Talons#people have definitely done it before but this scene came to me in a vision#a horrible caffeinated vision#could absolutely be an excuse for#talon!dick#talons#dp x dc#faer fic#dpxdc#dcxdp#talon!au#dcu crossover#death tw#well. the funeral industry anyway#medical tw#just in case#corpse tw#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#free to a good home
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medical literature about intersex people be like "there are problems that can be caused by forcing surgery on babies. luckily we are solving this by forcing surgery on even younger babies. it is vital that this baby CANNOT be left alone to develop normally. here is our 36 step guide on which surgeries you should force on which babies. also some people have said that forcing surgeries on babies might be "harmful" so consider that too I guess"
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Can we please for the love of god stop telling teenagers they’re too young to have aches and pains. Can we please stop being dismissive about these things. Fakeclaiming is disgusting period, but it is exponentially harmful to youth. Just because you didn’t start hurting until your 20s or 30s or 40s doesn’t mean every teenager complaining of chronic pain must be lying. I learned the hard way that if kids are invalidated enough about this, they will just learn to accept constant pain as a fact of life. And then they will need surgery they can’t afford in ten years bc it turns out constant pain is NOT a fact of life. At any age.
p.s. same goes for mental health
#chronic pain#chronic illness#medical trauma#tw fakeclaiming#fake claiming#anti fakeclaiming#childhood trauma#complex trauma#physical disability#disability advocacy
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“The artist becomes the canvas!” - TMAGP 002: Making Adjustments
#tma#the magnus protocol#tmagp#the magnus archives#fanart#the magnus protocol spoilers#tw: body horror#kinda???#this is the most vague fanart i could possibly post im so sorry#i swear i've also started drawing the actual. yaknow. characters?#but for personal reasons episode two hit so close to home for a second I thought Alex j newall had acquired access to my medical records#so I had to get this out of my system LOL#myart
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AAAAAAAAAI hate this stupid map aaaaammssmsmmshshahammm so I decided to draw this map with medic injured to make it 200% more stupid!!!
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Defend and Protect Black Women!!
Misogynoir medical bias is KILLING Black women disproportionately. If you know even a little history of how Black women have been systematically dehumanized and objectified in the medical industrial complex -you'd know this is FAR too common and it's despicable. These medical professionals should be losing their licenses to practice medicine.
"Black women are three to four times more likely to experience complications during pregnancy and childbirth and die from these complications compared with white women. Additionally, infants born to Black women are two times more likely to be born premature (<37 weeks of gestation) compared with infants born to white women."
"In the 19th century, J. Marion Sims performed experimental surgery on enslaved Black women without their consent to develop a cure for vesicovaginal fistula. These experiments facilitated the generations of two key health care scripts about Black women in the context of reproductive health care: (1) it is acceptable to perform procedures on Black women without their consent; and (2) Black women have a high tolerance for pain."
"Although there is a plethora of research documenting Black women's experiences of racism and discrimination while navigating perinatal care, much less has been reported regarding the relationship between racism and clinical care through the lens of clinicians' caring for Black women during pregnancy and childbirth."
#feminist#social justice#feminism#current events#current news#black women#protect black women#protect black girls#systemic inequality#systemic injustice#medical bias#medical apartheid#antiblackracism#antiblackness#tw child death#tw pregnancy#history#obstetrics and gynecology#united kingdom
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Also on topic of Consent: whenever somebody says "Kids should have bodily autonomy!" some guy always is like "You are too unrealistic. What will you do when a kid is seeing the doctor and doesn't want to get a shot? Would you just let them refuse the shot?"
Yeah I probably would. You're straight up asking the wrong person if you want the nice normal answer here. Doctors and nurses forcibly doing (relatively routine) things to my body against my protests when I was a small kid fucked me up so bad that as an adult anything medical related is a huge trigger for me, I've had persistent intrusive thoughts and recurring nightmares about medical procedures, and I can't have even the most basic tests and health checks done on top of it.
I hate talking about it because I can't get comfortable calling it "trauma" and I don't have any other words that are useful, but it's made my life so much harder and really scary since if I start having a weird symptom, there's nothing I can move myself to do about it.
I figured out a loophole where going to a pharmacy instead of a doctor's office for vaccines reduces some of the stress, but I was still in stress and misery for days before I went to get my tetanus shot. The repulsion is so intense it feels like I literally don't have control over myself, it feels like I can't make appointments or plans about such things out of my own free will, and so every year I have guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt about how I should get the flu shot, and it does nothing but ineffectually hurt me.
Vaccines save lives and all that, but when it comes right down to it, I don't think it's actually a net benefit to public health to give any percentage of kids lifelong psychological scars so deep and painful they're almost completely barred from accessing health care as adults.
I know I'm not the only one, far from it.
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Zero out of zero doctors recommend these frog earrings. That's 100% of the doctors we asked.
#tw ears#tw frogs#tw ads#the toothpaste industry is screeching with jealousy over our perfect medical professional feedback rating
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EMESIS BLUE but make it a comic
#tf2#team fortress 2#emesis blue#emesis blue spoilers#tf2 spy#tf2 medic#tf2 demoman#tf2 engineer#tf2 soldier#myart#tw: blood
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Friendly reminder that antipsychotics don't cure schizophrenia. They don't even treat schizophrenia fully. They only treat the psychotic symptoms aka the positive symptoms. (And lots of people on antipsychotics don't have all their psychotic symptoms disappear, sometimes it only helps a little bit). Meanwhile our negative and cognitive symptoms cannot be treated fully (or at all depending on the person) with medication, and they greatly affect our lives and tend to get more severe as we age. So please don't assume that a schizophrenic person on antipsychotics is basically not mentally ill anymore cause there's a shit ton more we have to deal with on a daily basis, even if our psychosis is treated and no longer affecting us.
#schizophrenia#mental illness#nd#neurodivergent#schizophrenic#psychosis#actuallyschizophrenic#mental health awareness#pseriouslypsychotic#schizophrenia negative symptoms#schizophrenia cognitive syptoms#schizophrenia awareness#anitpsychotics#tw medication
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#i'm very pro danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of talons previous installments
*
The next day, the body was back.
The green was gone from its eyes, but the awareness wasn't; it spent about an hour watching people go around outside Danny's apartment, which was new behavior. None of the corpses that shadowed him had shown any interest in garden-variety humans before. Now it sat at the window and watched families come home from school or head to their afternoon shifts.
That went into Danny's notes.
After that hour, it taught itself to flush the toilet repeatedly, rearranged the contents of Danny's half-assed linen closet (again) and then stood hovering over the safe where Danny had stashed the ectoplasm.
"...Okay," said Danny.
The dead body croaked. It was a new sound, but there was no context for it. Danny just kind of...wrote it down and hoped for the best.
The day after, Danny woke up at a very reasonable ten forty eight in the morning to find stray corpses feeding each other spoonfuls of ectoplasm in the kitchen.
At that point he kind of had to throw out the notes on how much each one was dosed with, because what the fuck.
"Really?!" Danny shouted, spooking the bodies into fleeing behind chairs and doors and back into his closet again. The only one that didn't flee was Danny's ringmaster corpse of the hour, of course. "You really couldn't wait??"
It stuck out a withered black tongue out at the mortician, who was, really, the victim in all of this. A victim to his parents' whims and a victim to the dead people who followed him around all the time.
This was how Danny found out that, when it doubt, the corpses could just tear through solid steel if they were motivated enough. The finger-marks were so deep and so embedded that they actually looked more like rough claws in the metal.
Great.
Danny ordered a new locking cage for the fridge on Prime and darted off to work. One of his regulars was on the table, though, so Danny just ended up doing what he would have at home— sewing up a gash in its neck and reattaching dead fingers back onto dead stumps.
On the third day, in which four of Danny's frequent fliers had learned from the first how to flush the toilet (and therefore raise the water bill immensely) Danny got a ring from a dark voice he (almost) recognized.
"Is he here?"
Danny squinted, jerking the phone further under his ear as he whipped up some scrambled eggs. The dead girl leaning over his shoulder leaned a little closer to watch the egg froth up. "Is who here? Who is this?"
"This is Batman. Is— the body requisitioned from your facility currently at your place of residence?"
Danny fully let go of the whisk. It landed haphazardly in the glass bowl he'd been stirring in. "What on Earth is a Batman?" he asked, incredulous.
"I visited your workplace previously."
Oh! "Yeah, the cop's friend. I remember now." Danny pulled the whisk out of the liquid eggs and held it out to the body. The unusually animate cadaver mostly prodded the whisk wires and paid no attention to him. "No one's here but me, though. Not that it's your business...?"
"And there are no non-living bodies currently in your apartment?"
Danny ignored the flushing noise in the other room. "I don't know, dude. They practically live in the walls at this point. Don't come over unless you have a warrant."
The call ended with a click.
His omelette turned out amazing, by the way. In case you were wondering.
On the fourth day, the ectoplasm was gone, because the corpses had apparently all taught each other how to lockpick the container in the fridge.
"Okay, some of that was meant to be my dinner. No more lotion at the funeral home now, okay? Now you all can be ashy forever. I'm so serious," Danny complained to the only visible dead person in the room.
The dead person held up a cracked egg. It was probably a gesture of peace, but now there was egg on his vinyl flooring to deal with. And. It wasn't exactly all that comforting in the end.
On the fifth day, Danny awoke to the sensation of a hand jamming itself through his neck until it punched into the mattress beneath him.
Fuck.
#dp x dc#I'm very pro Danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of talons#could absolutely be an excuse for#talon!dick#talons#faer fic#dpxdc#dcxdp#death tw#well. the funeral industry anyway#medical tw#corpse tw#dead people#dcu crossover#the original post is free to a good home but I'm just chugging along here
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