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fucking-feelings-man · 6 months

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My health journey so far...

Let’s go back to where it all began. My chronic illness journey started 10 years ago with a pretty severe stomach ache when I was 13. I remember laying on the couch in my home in Ontario thinking I was never going to be able to get off the couch ever again. I know, a bit dramatic, but that shit hurt! Little did I know that that was only the start and that I would continue to get increasingly worse over the years…

I remember for those first few years I would crush a whole container of tums every week. I was popping antacids like the world was going to end and sometimes it felt like it would. Hello, anxiety! I had a pretty severe panic attack in grade 10 due to the building stress related to my symptoms and the noises my body would make. Stomach gurgling and gas is not so much fun when you are a young, mentally ill teenager worried about what everyone around you will think. Add in that I was the “new girl” who had just moved to Nova Scotia. Cue Maeghan going to therapy.

After that panic attack it took me a solid two years to be able to get back into a classroom. Even still, I have anxiety surrounding classrooms and always being close to the door in case I have to make a sudden sprint to the bathroom. When you already have anxiety disorders and then you add physical symptoms on top of that, it was a recipe for disaster. However, I did really well in therapy and learned ways to control the panic and it was really helpful to learn about myself, anxiety, OCD, and depression. I’m still in therapy to this day.

After I finished up high school, I was off to university to study acting and my abdominal pain was getting much worse. I was taking the daily maximum dose of Tylenol just to be able to make it out of bed and my doctors weren’t very concerned. I was put on every PPI in existence and still, no improvement. I was told that it was probably just my anxiety – isn’t it just wonderful when your mental health history follows you to every medical appointment?

I ended up in the hospital 7 times in two years for severe abdominal pain and for excruciatingly painful periods. Turns out that on top of my digestive issues I had ovarian cysts that loved to burst every few months. Still, they would give me no pain relief. I would just lie in the hospital for hours on end as they took my blood and maybe did an ultrasound and then I would be sent home with no answers.

The period pains were eventually taken seriously after I couldn’t stand up in acting class and a classmate had to help me to the on campus clinic. This doctor said that I should never have been brushed off and referred me to a gynaecologist (interestingly enough, the doctor was a woman – funny how that works). I finally saw the gynaecologist and she immediately put me on the Depo shot. This changed the game for me as I no longer had to worry about ending up in the hospital every time I had my period. However, as soon as one problem is fixed my body has a habit of creating so many more problems.

My stomach pain seemed to increase ten-fold and soon I was back to my family doctor begging for more testing. I ended up in the hospital one more time and then I thought I had my answer. I had a pretty aggressive h pylori infection, so with a mean dose of antibiotics and PPIs I thought this would be the end. And I did feel better for about a year, but then the stomach pain came back worse than before and eating became unbearable. Finally, my family doctor put me on the wait list for a gastroenterologist.

My third and fourth year of university were intense – it probably didn’t help that I spontaneously decided to add a second major. I would finish my degree with a combined honours in acting and sociology. Even though I accomplished a lot, the physical symptoms tried to stop me at every turn. I ended up in the hospital a few more times and these flare ups always happened at terrible times. I almost missed my final exam for sociology because I had spent the entire day before in the hospital. Shoutout to the prof for letting me have some extra time to submit after I embarrassingly walked into the massive exam hall halfway through the exam (Dalplex exams are the worst, if you know you know). Her kindness made all of the difference that day. I missed my final audition in fourth year due to uncontrollable pain and not being able to keep any food in my system. I missed countless classes and presentations because I couldn’t leave my bed.

I finally got in to see a gastroenterologist at the end of my undergraduate degree and by that time I was going downhill fast. Cue countless very uncomfortable tests. Upper gastrointestinal issues are no joke because the scopes and tubes have to make it to your stomach so you have to be awake to swallow the tube when it hits your LES. Choking during my manometry was probably the funniest moment during all of the medical testing in 2019. You think choking on water is bad? Wait until you choke on water while a big ass tube is in your esophagus and stomach and you are staring at the nurse trying to calm you down with pure desperation in your eyes as tears and drool are streaming down your face. Pure comedy!

An ultrasound, upper GI scope, manometry, and ph study later, and I still had no answers. All of my tests kept coming back normal, so I was diagnosed with Functional Dyspepsia and IBS. Basically, “no cause for symptoms found” was my new reality. I started a couple of medications and could now eat a bit more, but the pain was still unbearable. I was then sent to a medical cannabis clinic and started CBD oil which initially helped. But then, you guessed it, my symptoms got worse.

Halfway through my first year of grad school I started experiencing blackouts, dizziness, eye shaking, muscle weakness, debilitating fatigue, and extreme nausea. I tried contacting my GI and started seeing my family doctor every 2 weeks. Then Covid hit and it became impossible to get adequate care. I was supposed to be getting a brain MRI, but that was pushed for 10 months. I was lucky enough to get into see an ophthalmologist and I was diagnosed with a rare eye disorder called Superior Oblique Myokymia. Once I got on medication the eye shaking stopped, but my other symptoms continued to get worse. That was the first time I heard about POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), but the ophthalmologist couldn’t diagnose that so I would have to wait for either a cardiologist or neurologist (neither of which were available due to Covid).

I would spend the entire first lockdown getting progressively worse. I couldn’t walk for more than 5 mins without extreme heart palpitations and blackouts. I was then told to just stop walking while I waited for specialists to start accepting patients again. My ability to eat declined very quickly and I was losing weight rapidly. I had been using canes for about a year before hand, but by July I had to get a rollator walker to be able to leave my house. My rollator gave me back so much independence and freedom. I love my mobility aids so much. Without them, I don’t know where I would be.

During this decline I had to go on a Leave of Absence from my Masters and step back from teaching. This was the most heartbreaking moment for me because so much of my identity had been tied to school and being a teacher/artist. I didn’t know who I was without actively partaking in university and performing. Cue another severe mental decline. I have had suicidal ideation in the past, but this was the worst I had ever experienced it. I couldn’t work or go to school anymore because of the physical symptoms and I was getting no answers from doctors or specialists. I was stuck in the healthcare waitlist loop in Canada.

It took a lot of work, but I was able to stabilize my mood and I am back to my baseline. Finally in October of 2020, things started to move. I got my MRI, 4 ECGs, a holter monitor, and a flexible sigmoidoscopy over the next 6 months and tried a whole bunch of different combinations of medication. Still, everything was normal. My symptoms, however, were not normal and were still severe. I had seen 3 dieticians, all of whom had no clue what to do with me. When you can only eat 5 safe foods, it’s pretty hard to make nutritional improvements. The third dietician put her foot down and started contacting my gastroenterologist directly and soon enough I got in for an emergency appointment.

This was the appointment where it was decided that I would be admitted to the hospital. I was supposed to be put on a feeding tube and have a bunch of tests fast tracked. But, it wouldn’t be Nova Scotia healthcare without a major bump. There weren’t any beds available at the hospital, so I was sent home with nothing to help improve my symptoms. It did however get the ball rolling on testing and soon enough I was seeing an Internal Medicine specialist and was booked for a colonoscopy, CT scan, and a gastric emptying study. And, you guessed it, all of the tests came back normal. What changed is the doctors started taking my symptoms seriously after they physically saw how sick I was in hospital.

Fast forward two more months and we are in the present day. My gastroenterologist, internist, and dietician are working together as a team on my case and I have lots more tests lined up. They are now checking me for rare diseases and disorders. I am also a patient at a chronic care clinic and they are examining me for other things. I was recently diagnosed with POTS at this clinic. This was the most relieving news because I finally had a name to put to these debilitating nervous system symptoms. It only took me a year and a half and 2 doctors saying it “definitely isn’t POTS” to get an accurate diagnosis.

Now I just have to wait for my upcoming tests and hope that we can find the other pieces to the puzzle. The gastrointestinal symptoms are worsening and I can’t properly do treatment for my POTS without having a working gastrointestinal tract, so the fight continues. The system here is slow and it is very hard to not fall through the cracks. It takes all of my energy to just stay on top of doctors appointments and make sure they don’t forget about me. I still can’t work or go to school, but maybe if I get some answers I can start the long journey to finding my new baseline.

I am choosing to share parts of my journey in the hopes that this can help someone. I know I’m not the only person in Nova Scotia or Canada who is dealing with the problems in our healthcare system. When you are young, chronically ill, and it’s not a simple answer, you get left behind. I want people to know that you are not alone and that there are people who have gone through similar things that are here to fight with you. You deserve answers. You are not a burden. I will help you every step of the way if you need someone.

#TheChronicallyIllChronicles

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akindplace · 2 years

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CW: Mental illness, grief

In the past few weeks I suffered a massive breakdown. I lost my job and though, luckily, I am able to live with my family and have my basic needs met, I feel guilty constantly. I have been suffering from symptoms that have been described as possible PTSD/Bipolar and I feel like I’m losing my mind. Not having a job to go to, I feel like a drain on the people around me. I don’t feel worthy of eating or taking care of. And I have the endless, anxious feeling that I am somehow making everything up and that I will be found out. When stressed, I’ve developed a stutter as well as verbal & physical tics. I have potent emotional flashbacks to moments that really hurt me. I feel like I am a monster and everyone around me knows it.

Do you ever have symptoms like this? How do you cope? Do you ever feel like things will never get any better? Like you don’t have a place in the world?

I have a huge tendency to feel guilty and to fell unworthy due to my illness being a strain on my family. I try to constantly remind myself to be patient with my recovery because finally getting healthy is the one thing that will help me be more independent and to be able to provide for them in the future. It's an exercise of patience with my own body and mind, and trying not to rush through recovery with the simple goal of being able to find work, but doing for the sake of all my dreams and long term health benefits, even though I know that my chronic illness means being sick forever, it doesn't mean I will have to be in bed all the time as I've been of lately. This mindset, while going through therapy and giving to medical treatment for both my mental and physical illnesses are the methods that have been helping me cope. Try to remember you can't ever be a real burden on those who love you, that they are worried too, and willing to do a lot to help but maybe are feeling lost on what they can do to help.

You are worth of eating, resting, recovering, getting medical attention (which I encourage you too), to read books on your diagnosis to maybe understand yourself better, and to surround yourself with reminders that you too have worth even if you had a breakdown, a possible diagnosis and is no longer working.

Remember to take your time to heal. It is imperative you do so. Because if you don't take this time to heal and instead ruminate on guilt and not take proper care of yourself, the sad truth is that you won't be able to remove yourself from this situation that causes you so much stress in the first place.

Denying your most basic needs is not the way to go. You are worthy. You are more than worthy, you have rights, you are deserving!

Care for yourself and if possible seek medical attention and recovery.

#asks #cw: mental illness #cw grief

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justaratswriting · 3 years

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Batfam and Mental Health

orOkay so I love Batman and all the things surrounding it. Like the idea of a random rich man who happens to be an orphan just suddenly adopting a ton of children is ridiculous, and thoroughly entertaining.

But I am also a big fan of psychology, and learning about the mind. So mental illness and related things are fascinating to me.

I notice that like strangely there is very little stuff about the batfam having mental illnesses or dealing with psychology or therapy. Don’t get me wrong there is still a lot addressing these things, but still with the things the family experiences you would think it would be a lot more prevalent in the writing about them, and especially fan fiction about them.

Like I think showing mental health through beloved characters would be really cool and could be a tool to destigmatize them. Like showing hero's with them would make really great representation, people could see them and think Oh I can still be a good person and helpful even if my mental disorder makes it hard and for things like depression or ADHD showing which misconceptions are harmful and don’t work.

I can also see this in the physical aspect, like I wish a hero would have something like chronic pain or one of the many invisible illnesses. To give representation and show how pushing through the pain can shut a person down for days.

The specific disorders I think would be really interesting of the top of my head is, depression, Anxiety, POTS, Fibromyalgia, Chronic pain, eating disorders, nerve damage, ADHD, Bipolar, OCD, Chronic fatigue, PTSD, c-PTSD, Autism, Elhers Danlos syndrome, And the one I really think would be interesting DID.

Like fore depression, showing how hard it is to get out of bed. Not showing constantly being sad but showing how it can be numbing. Acknowledging that in a disorder like this logic doesn’t always win even if you are the most logical person to live.

For anxiety showing how debilitating it can be. Looking into their minds to show the thought process, the mind fight itself and logic. Knowing their fears are unreasonable but not being able to shake the feeling. Show how for different people different things cause anxiety.

POTS or Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, (super simply put it is a circulation disorder where upon standing up blood rushes to extremities and can cause all sorts of problems like fainting, pain in your feet, Dizziness, poor temperature regulation, etc. Also I am assuming people know what depression and anxiety is.) would be fascinating to me. Like having a hero that is constantly sitting down or biting down and pushing through the pain even a hero that has to slowly stand up. So in the middle of a battle being shoved down having to slowly stand up or risk fainting or vision completely blacking out for a while. Showing a hero who has learned to fight with no sight because of that very thing.

Or Fibromyalgia (This one I am a little less educated about but from what I understand, it is a disorder characterized by muscle pain and tenderness usually with no known cause, so from what I understand it usually is diagnosed after a ton of other disorders are eliminated and the pain is still occurring, often also has affect on sleep and memory/mood.) Like showing a hero having a particularly hard patrol and having to take a couple days off and constantly going places or trying things to help with the pain.

Or Chronic pain ( from what I understand the main difference between Fibromyalgia and Chronic pain is chronic pain has to do with the nerves and Fibromyalgia has to do with muscles, also Fibromyalgia has other thins to go with it like energy levels and mental functions so memory/mood.) Like a hero having constant pain even if they didn’t have a big fight, maybe showing them icing, heating, or taking pain meds and the rest of the family or team being super confused as to why. Before they know showing them freak out and worry that they went on a mission without telling anyone. Showing how it is a constant battle, that sometimes treatments will work and other times, for seemingly no reason they won’t.

I would also like to see eating disorders portrayed by the bat family. Showing how it’s not always a conscious choice, sometimes it is more along the lines of choosing something else over eating. Showing how people can use it for control or to punish themselves. Letting there be a male example, reminding people that they can happen to anyone. Allowing people to have representation. Show a recovery, how it is not impossible for anyone but not down playing how hard it is. It is a true and hard fight, and show how it can sneak up on you and drag you back. Not just one easy recovery, that recovery is a choice. You have to want it but you also need help, it is a long hard process and accessibility is everything. Show a family member making them food, show them sometimes eating it and others not. Also don’t only show under eating show how people can’t stop themselves from eating. Having cabinets locked to keep people out, for their own safety.

Or nerve damage, showing how years of their work and fighting can really mess someone up. Show someone suddenly losing all feeling or sensation in certain parts of their body or constant pain or even pinched nerves. Show how confusing it can be to not know what you are feeling. Show how weird it can be when you realize you are fine or that nothing is touching you or taking it in the opposite direction and not realizing you are hurt or someone is trying to be your attention. I would also love to see the batfam explain any of these injuries to the hero community or to the public. Maybe show the hero community really starting to look into mental and general health services.

ADHD or also ADD, showing how people can use it but also showing how hard it can be to control and fight. How much it can impede focusing and show situations it can put people in. Show a hero forgetting a huge part of their plan and falling but because of some random information from a hyper focus they still save the day.

Bipolar, showing the wild swings and how confusing it can be. Feeling like a different person, struggling with identity and their own decisions. Show them accidently pushing people away but also how hard they work to maintain family and friends that despite how unpredictable they can be their friends still stick around. Or if their friends can’t handle it show them peacefully and respectfully stepping out of their life. Show how hard that can be to except but that the future can end up better than you could ever hope.

OCD is really one I wish we saw in the hero's. Show their routines and things they do. Show the thought process, like if I don’t properly put the dishes away in fourteen seconds the joker will escape arkham. Show how terrifying the thoughts can be, but show how detail oriented it can make people and the beautiful art and amazing work that they can do. Show a person putting them selves at risk to comply with their routine. Like ignoring injuries to write a report. Show them and family or friends working to change the routine. Show how hard it is the moments they want to turn back and continue and how much they want to stop but show them not giving up and making the differences they want. Show them accomplishing things, show their compulsions actually keeping them safe.

Or even chronic fatigue, Show the fight each morning. Them saving energy, the disconnect between how exhausted you are mentally vs. physically. Show a hero that 50% of the time physically is too exhausted to be in the field so they offer technical support. Show a hero crashing, suddenly just not having enough energy to finish patrol or even get home. So someone has to come pick them up. Show them getting stuck in a fight and how hard it can be to do anything much less a fight.

Let the characters have PTSD or c-PTSD, show flashbacks and being stuck in your head. All of the bat family has lived through horrors please show it affecting them. Show how they get help how they work through it show what can happen and how bad it can get if it is unaddressed.

Show them having autism and how it is just a different way of life that there is nothing inherently wrong with it and how the ignorance that surrounds it and similar disorders can hurt and affect people. Show how it can be simple things that can show it or affect it. Try and look at it from their perspective and what things happen that should not just because they way someone is.

Elhers Danlos syndrome, show the pain, the misdiagnosis, the process, the fight. Show how disabilities like this and several others including ones I have mentioned can cause a person to need medical equipment such as wheelchairs and braces. Show how not everyone using a wheelchair can’t walk. Show how limiting it can be and the precautions you have to take but don’t make everything about how hard it can be. Show how using a Wheelchair while not ideal can open up so many opportunities. Show them actually being able to go on family vacations and amusement parks because they have a wheelchair. Show how important it is to have ramps and accommodations for similar things so people can participate and so people can actually go places they want. Always show how hard people with disabilities and such work. Show them trying to get treatment and trying new treatments show how it isn’t as simple as getting a knee brace or two.

And finally coming to one that absolutely fascinates me, DID or Dissociative Identity Disorder formerly known as multiple personality disorder. But don’t do this one completely uneducated, it is already a very stigmatized disorder. Show how Alters communicate. Show how they all work together and that they were made so the body and mind could survive. Make full characters just put them in one body. Show the confusion once they find out, show them slowly realizing and learning signs and what happened to them. Show each of the Alters having different friends and maybe understanding and knowing the family different. Show the different reasons and setups systems can have. Show system responsibility and each Alter working on themselves and to make a life for the system. Show the roles Alters will take. Show the horrible process of fragmenting and what things can cause it but also show healing and people supporting and accepting systems.

Overall showing good parts of all the struggles people can have but not ignoring how hard they can be or glorifying them to people who don’t understand. Showing misconceptions and how support can affect these disorders. And most important in my mind, giving hope and a future to look forward to for the people with these disorders.

#batman #chronic illness #mental health #batfam headcanons #batboys #bat bois #batfam

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authorgeek · 3 years

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Isolation

I think “Lonely” is the primordial emotion. The Mother feeling. At least, perhaps, it is for me. I’ve been lonely my entire life, even and especially while surrounded by the people who care about me.

When I am very happy, the first thing I want to do is to call my best friend. Call my mother. I don’t want to sit in this good news or excitement alone. I want to share it. I want to spread it. I want others to celebrate with. Joy and happiness are only sweeter when shared with others who can join and partake in these things with you.

When I am very sad, I do not wish to sit in despair or lament on my own. I want support. I reach out in hopes others have needed wisdom or assistance, in hopes of community and understanding. Sadness becomes compassion. Despair, Empathy.

Likewise, when I am angry. I find without sharing it anger quickly turns to rage and wrath and resentment. Anger, when shared in community, can become organization. Motivation. Rage steps aside for action. Activism. Movement.

I have found I am not alone in this. Many people react this way when feeling any strong emotion at all.

Emotion, for me, can be a very physical, active, and tangible thing. I don’t just feel happiness, anger, or sadness. I am these things. I am happiness. I am anger. I am relaxed. I am fear. My chest burns. My heart rises to my throat or falls to my stomach. My eyes widen. My gut drops, tightens, relaxes, heats and cools. It’s embodied. It’s painful and aching. It’s balm to a wound, cool and relieving. My hands shake and my legs bounce and I cry and yell or cheer. I sigh and roll my eyes. I breathe. I unclench my jaw and lower my shoulders.

I have always felt everything deeply, intensely, fully. I cannot bring myself to apologize for this. Nor can I change it.

Perhaps it’s a bit like Tinkerbell is said to be. Fairies are so small they only have room for one emotion at once. When she is jealous of Wendy, this becomes all consuming and she embodies envy.

I’ve tried shrinking myself. I’ve tried hiding it. I’ve tried containing everything as best I could. It’s resulted in physical illness and excruciating pain. I don’t want to be palatable to others anymore. I don’t care to be consumable and neat or tidy. Above this, I want a healthy relationship with my internal and bodily self and how the two meld together.

I’ve been called self centered for this, but I pity and sympathize with those who feel this way - constantly setting themselves to the wayside, and taking their emotions out on others through name calling and accusation rather than face their own internal selves. They are deeply afraid at what they see, and it’s too painful to take on, so they choose to ignore and bury it rather than allow it to make itself known and move on. This is how generational trauma forms, and begins the cycles I am determined to break and will take part in no longer. Feeling things in their entirety, giving these emotions full recognition and space is a strength I’ve known few others to understand. People get angry when I insist upon taking up space for myself, but I’ve learned It makes my emotions easier to control, less explosive, and causes less physical and emotional turmoil. Along with the assistance of therapists and medication, which I admit - I am privileged to have access to.

In fact, my intensity can be exhausting and draining to those who do not know how to take care of themselves this same way. I understand I can be a lot to handle, but I make no apologies for it because those who love me understand in order to handle this kind of intense emotional presence they must share it and be working towards like internal goals. Those who give themselves space for emotional care and self examination are less likely to be exhausted by me, and communicate clearer, kinder, and with more respect - what it takes to hold relationship and share an emotional bond with each other. This is why I share such undying and intense love for those who feel the same. My chosen family, my soul partners, my healers, companions and truest friends.

Above all of it, no matter what else I am temporarily feeling at the time, I am nearly always deeply and intensely lonely. Lately, this stems from physical isolation due to a combination of COVID and my own chronic illness. From the feeling of everything I once had planned, all my dreams and ideas and hopes for the future, being pulled out from under me both by personal illness and global pandemic. I watch others move on, go “back to normal”, gather and celebrate - and there is almost too much for even me to feel. Fear, at gathering again when so many are stubbornly unvaccinated. Jealousy, of the ability to do so, and deep pain, at seemingly being ignored and deserted through it all.

Though, of course, I am not alone in this experience whatsoever. Being politically marginalized as woman, disabled, and queer, I find so much in common with these communities, who are watching the same. We are forgotten in the same way, left behind for the same reasons. All while recognizing myself as privileged because I am white and educated. I know for a fact my experiences are not unique, and I am not alone. I recognize this, it is why I write. Why I speak out, refusing to stay silent for a single moment. Without my voice, even while aware I am not alone, I am going through all of this largely by myself. Therapy and meds can only do so much against such an actively, systemically hostile environment as the US currently is for marginalized people. The human body can only handle so much emotional pain. We can only experience/watch so much brutality. We can only ignore and fall deaf to so many cries for help.

I can turn off the news. I can shut off my socials. I can turn off my phone and deactivate my accounts. I can hide post after post all day long. It can only serve so well in the face of simply knowing, deeply, personally, that the violence and desertion and hostility does not go away just because you’re not seeing it anymore. All that means is that I’ve ignored one event - one shooting - one queer child being exiled from their home - one woman in danger - one more ableist rearing their ugly heads - one more needless death of an innocent person. I am sad. I am angry. I am afraid. For legitimate and real reasons. I am so far beyond being able to turn it off, ignore, bury, and pretend anymore. Without large scale cultural, political, and environmental change, everyone I share so much in common with will continue to feel this way.

And all of this makes me profoundly lonely. So this is me, doing what I do when feeling strong emotions. Speaking. Processing. Reaching out. Sharing. Communicating. Giving it space, exposing it in the light for what it is. Here it is, on the table, forced into the open, just like airing out any dirty laundry. It will not be allowed to hide or shrink, because I must be allowed to breathe.

And suddenly, it feels just a little easier to bear.

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fibrowarriorgirl · 3 years

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Toxic positivity & chronic illness

This post is aimed mainly for the people who aren't chronically ill themselves, but for those who know someone dear to them is chronically ill. Although I think a lot of chronically ill peeps will be able to relate to this post.

"Stay positive." It's something that pretty much everyone hears in their life. In our darkest moments, we will always have someone telling us to be as happy as possible. Remember the last time you were upset, and someone told you something like this. How much did you appreciate this?

Sure, it can definitely help under certain circumstances. Let's say you failed a test at school. Your parents telling you "it's okay, better luck next time!" could actually cheer you up. But what if it wasn't just any test, but an important exam you failed. "Better luck next time!" is a lot less pleasing to hear. You failed your exam, you won't be able to go to your next year, all your friends did pass so you won't be in their class any more, and the next time you do the exam will be over a year from now. The phrase "better luck next time" sounds bitter more than anything. And definitely isn't appreciated.

We as humans often feel inclined to turn anything bad into something positive. It's a natural response. You see someone you love in pain, you want to be able to say something that will make it better. But we have to be realistic, there will be times when someone is in pain (physically, mentally or both), and there is nothing to say to make it better. And you trying to make it better, only makes it worse.

I've only had my fibromyalgia diagnosis for almost a month, but I've had episodic pain for over a year now and constant pain for almost 5 months now. Especially this last month has been rough with toxic positivity.

Receiving the fibromyalgia diagnosis was hard. At the time of being diagnosed, I didn't know too much about it. I had read about a few symptoms, but I honesty didn't think I could have it. So once I did some research, I was devastated with my diagnosis. And something I noticed, is that a lot of people were trying to help me by saying uplifting things.

"But Elke, what's so bad about that?" What bothered me the most, was that I wasn't even diagnosed for a week and people were telling me to cheer up. Telling me it could be worse, telling me what has helped them when they had pain once, it will get better, it will pass. And I always had the same response: "Let me be sad for a while."

I had just heard I had chronic pain. I have a very frustrating diagnosis. Doctors can't tell me what it is in my body that is causing all of my symptoms. There is no medication. I need mobility aids to get around. I will need a very intense form of rehabilitation. So yes, I was pretty depressed for a few days. The last thing I needed, was to hear it could be worse. I was grieving, grieving the life I once lived. I was in denial of the life I was forced to start living.

Maybe you're thinking that even though your positivity isn't welcome, but it can't hurt, right? Unfortunately, you're wrong. Being told that something could be worse, tells me I am bothering you, that my pain isn't severe enough to be upset about. Maybe that isn't your intention at all, but it is somewhat implied. We also internalise this way of thinking. I tell myself "it could be worse" so I can't feel bad. Even though my head can be pounding, my joints burning, with no energy in my body to do even the simplest of tasks, I'm still not allowing myself to feel bad. Because there is someone out there who has it worse.

Not only does this phrase negatively impact me, it impacts my surroundings. Let me take a friend of mine, who I will call Jane Doe for the sake of anonymity. Jane suffers from an undiagnosed eating disorder and body dysmorphia. And a few weeks ago, she told me she felt bad whenever she talked about her struggles with her body to me. "You're actually in constant pain, you have it so much worse." Do you know how heartbreaking it is to hear that? She is struggling with something I know can be so challenging. She is in (mental) pain, but "it could be worse." I am still here for Jane, I don't think of her pain as less or not as important as mine. I don't want her to feel like that.

Of course, there are many things chronically ill people are frequently told that do more damage than good. "I had pain here once, so I did x and y and it went away." We already tried x and y. We tried the whole alphabet. "It will pass." No, it's a chronic illness. It can get better, maybe. I could go on and on.

Discussing toxic positivity is awkward. Because I realise all of these things are said with love, with the intention to help, to put a smile on my face. So I don't want to point out that you're actually hurting me by saying this. I often will just smile and nod through it. And I get it, I really do. I too have done this in the past, I probably still do without even noticing. And I also understand that my loved ones also have to adapt to my new life. You don't get a handbook on how to deal with your chronically ill daughter/partner/friend/etc. So that's why I'm posting this, to educate.

Instagram account @unchartedmalady posted a quote a few days ago that inspired me to write this post. "We don't seek solutions or treatments from friends or family. That is what medical professionals are for. We want support, understanding and empathy." This perfectly describes how I feel about this.

I'm in pain, every day. Some days, I get a lot done. Maybe I'm in a little less pain, but that isn't necessarily the reason. I could be excited to do something, I could have rested a lot the days beforehand, maybe I just somehow woke up with more spoons than usual. There are also days where I am not able to do much. There are even days that I can only get out of bed to use the toilet. Maybe this is a really bad pain, but that also isn't necessarily the reason. I could have received bad news, I have just done something 'big' the days before and need to rest, maybe I just woke up with less spoons.

On my good days, I don't need much support. But on those bad days, I need you. And I don't need you to help me. I need to be able to tell you "today fucking sucks, this is why" and for you to listen. Seeing your loved one is in pain is uncomfortable, you will feel the need to say something positive to cheer them up. This might sound blunt, but learn to deal with that uncomfortable feeling. Some appropriate responses could be:

"Do you know what to do on days like this?"

"Have you been able to discuss this with (medical professional)?"

"I am here for you."

"I'm sorry you're going through this."

"Can I help you with anything?"

Something that I personally think is a great alternative to saying something positive is: "I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better." This acknowledges that you want to say something to help, but that you realise there is nothing you can say to help. And also, be honest if you don't know what to say. "That sounds awful, I genuinely don't know what to say." There is nothing wrong with being honest about that.

And to finish this post off, I am not here raging against everyone who has every said something 'toxically positive.' I am here educating about this. It's okay to make mistakes, especially if you didn't know about this. And maybe you will still make this mistake every now and again, that's okay. As long as you're trying. We're all human, we all make mistakes. If you're ever not completely sure how to handle a situation with your chronically ill loved one, please just ask (respectfully).

(Credit for image goes to uncharted malady on instagram. Click here to visit their profile)

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amyhendry-contextualstudiesyear1 · 3 years

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The Legacy of Frida Kahlo

Frida Kahlo is a Mexican born artist formerly remembered for her paintings, more specifically her paintings based on nature and Mexican culture as well as her many self-portraits. Kahlo took up painting whilst recovering for a bus accident she was in as a teenager, the accident left her in a full body cast for quite some time and painting was her way of distracting her from the pain of recovery. Her work is heavily inspired by her culture which she incorporates in the clothing and scenery that she depicts in her paintings. In her lifetime she completed over 140 paintings (55 of which being self-portraits). A common theme in Kahlo’s work is both physical and emotional pain, the physical pain coming from her multiple surgeries she had to undergo because of her accident and her emotional pain came from her rocky relationship with her husband, fellow artist Diego Rivera (who she married twice). Despite that Kahlo is recognised as one of the greatest artist Mexico has ever seen and has become on of the most widely known artist in the world.

Kahlo was born in Coyoacán, Mexico City on the 6th of July 1907 and her full name is Magdalena Carmen Frieda Kahlo y Calderón. Kahlo’s father was a photographer who immigrated from Germany to Mexico where he met her mother Matilde, she is the third child with her two older sisters Matilde and Adriana and her younger sister Cristina. Even before her accident Kahlo had problems with her mobility as she contracted polio at a young age that damaged her right foot and caused her to have a limp from the age of six. In 1922 Kahlo became one of the only female students to attend the renowned National Preparatory School in which she became very politically active and joined the Young Communist League and the Mexican Communist Party whilst still a student. Not long after (1928) she married fellow artist Diego Rivera in what would become a very rocky and unstable relationship going through several periods of separation and rekindling, it was this relationship that would inspire some of her most famous paintings.

Kahlo first exhibited her work in 1939 in an exhibit in Paris, her work received massive praise and not long after Kahlo was commissioned by the Mexican government for five portraits of important Mexican women in 1941, however she was unable to finish the project due to the passing of her father as well as her chronic health problems. In 1953 Kahlo got her very first solo exhibit in her home city and, despite being bedridden, she refused to miss the opening and arrived by ambulance to celebrate with attendee’s. After Kahlo’s passing in 1954 her work became the symbol for female creativity and helped fuel the feminist movement in the 70’s, it was such events that has made her artwork iconic. “Frida expresses her own experiences in her works, it is exactly what she is living in her present, how she interprets it and how she believes that others live it. She paints after her divorce, as already mentioned before, “Las dos Fridas”, which we can locate within Surrealism (1939), because the surrealists do not want to copy reality but prefer to capture their reality, which is what they interpret of her dreams, or in the case of Frida, her own experiences, since she was able to create wonderful works from them. (…) Frida differs from the surrealists because she does not pretend to paint her dreams or liberate the unconscious, but through the technique of surrealism expresses her own experiences, which emanate suffering.” – Galeria Valmar, artes visuals, 2019.

The Broken Column

For this next part I wanted to analyse some of Kahlo’s most famous paintings and explore the deeper meaning behind them, starting with ‘The Broken Column’. ‘The Broken Column’ was a self-portrait created in 1944 shortly after a spinal surgery Kahlo underwent due to her accident, the surgery left her in a full body cast and a spinal brace which can be seen in the painting. Also in the painting we can see her body appearing almost cut in half, as if her spine had been ripped out, as well as nails poking out of her body. This actively demonstrates the physical pain constant years of surgery has caused Kahlo with the nails being a physical representation of such. Through the centre of her body the column taking the place of her spine is broken in several places creating the effect that it’s about to crumble and collapse on itself. Almost all of Kahlo’s self-portraits are meant to display her suffering caused by her accident, which left her both unable to bear children and ended her dreams of becoming a doctor, this is often shown by her facial expressions with ‘The Broken Column’ being no exception. After a closer look you can tears falling down her face as well as strong highlights in her pupils to emphasise the physical and emotional pain she was suffering. “The Broken Column was painted shortly after Frida Kahlo had undergone another surgery on her spinal column. The operation left her bedridden and “enclosed” in a metallic corset (…) The accident ended Kahlo’s dreams of becoming a doctor and caused her pain and illness for the rest of her life. (…) Although her face is bathed in tears, it doesn’t reflect a sign of pain. The nails piercing her body are a symbol of the constant pain she faced.” – Zuzanna Stanska, The daily art magazine, 2017.

Some people also believe that this painting is not just a representation of the pain Kahlo endured because of her health, many believe that it is also a commentary on the emotional pain caused by her unstable marriage. Most of the Kahlo’s most iconic pieces are inspired by her suffering and serves as a visual representation to her inner thoughts and emotions, her marriage being a large source of suffering throughout her lifetime. Some view the fragmented column lodged in her chest to be fragments of her marriage impaling her. “Despite the somewhat in-your-face symbolism, this is a favourite subject for bad art theory papers, identifying the column as everything from her fragmented marriage to a giant phallus penetrating her body. While such interpretations could be partially true, we think that sometimes a spinal column is just a spinal column (…) She referred to her medical ordeal as her “punishment.” She also took her tragedy in good humour, saying of this painting, “You must laugh at life...Look very closely at my eyes...the pupils are doves of peace. That is my little joke on pain and suffering…” Some claim the larger nails over her heart reflect her tortured relationship with Diego Rivera.” – Griff Stecyk, Startle, 2019.

Thinking about death

The next painting I have chosen to analyse is titled ‘Thinking of Death’ which is a self portrait created in 1943. This painting was created around the time Kahlo’s health really began to deteriorate as it depicts herself surrounded by nature with a small skull in her for head. Kahlo painted herself in very traditional clothing with her hair done up in a bun. The skull depicted in her forehead is supposed to represent the fears Kahlo had due to her health battles, with how sick she was death was a constant thought for her with it having come so close multiple times in her life. In Mexican culture death can mean the rebirth of life with is meant to be represented by the lively green leaves behind her as well as her facial expression which shows no sign of fear or panic suggesting Kahlo’s acceptance of death being another part of life. “Due to her poor health condition, death is an inevitable thought which lingering over her mind. In this painting, death is symbolized as skull and crossbones which shows up in her forehead. In ancient Mexican culture, death also means rebirth and life.” – FridaKahlo.org, 2017.

The skull itself represents the thought of death and sits right were ones third eye would be, this suggests that maybe Kahlo views the thought of death as some kind of wisdom instead of a fear, although Kahlo never wished to be labelled as a surrealist artist as her paintings come from her reality. “In Kahlo’s collective work, death seems to pervade almost every one of her paintings as an expression of pain, or a motif of oppression concerning female gender roles. Kahlo employs an almost anatomical eye in looking at her form, juxtaposing it beside images of adorned skeletons.” – MaryFrances Knapp, Seven Pounds, 2017.

Self Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird

The final painting I have chosen to analyse is titled ‘Self-portrait with Hummingbird and Thorn Necklace’ which is another self-portrait completed in 1940. In this painting Kahlo is surrounded by animals such as a monkey and a black cat with a large necklace of thorns around her neck, in the thorns there is a hummingbird tangled amongst them. She is also surrounded by green leaves much like ‘Thinking about Death’ with insects like dragonflies and butterflies in her hair, with a blue sky barely peaking behind the leaves. The painting was completed soon after Kahlo’s messy divorces with Rivera following the theme of suffering throughout her paintings. The thorns around her neck could be a visual representation of how it felt to grieve her relationship much like the nails did in ‘The Broken Column’, though it could have a religious meaning referring to Jesus’s crown of thorns. Kahlo also incorporates Mexican culture into this piece with each animal representing something different that is relevant to the context of the painting with hummingbirds symbolising love, black cats symbolising bad luck, Dragonflies symbolising prosperity and monkeys symbolising lust. “This self-portrait was created following Kahlo’s divorce to Diego Rivera (…) There are obvious religious overtones to the piece using Jesus’s crown of thorns. Kahlo has painted herself as a Christian martyr, enduring the pain of her failed marriage (…) In Mexican culture, hummingbirds signify falling in love and are used in love charms (…) Kahlo often used vibrant flora and fauna as backgrounds for her self-portraits, to create a claustrophobic space teeming with fertility. It is thought that the emphasis of her monobrow and moustache – with the lines of her eyebrows mimicking the wingspan of the hummingbird around her neck – was intended as a feminist statement.” – Tara Lloyd, Singul art Magazine, 2019

This painting is a great look into Kahlo’s attention to detail and how every piece of her paintings represents something, she is very in touch with her culture and has great understanding as how to show her emotions and life experiences in each of her pieces. “Like many other of her paintings, this artwork is a lot akin to a painted assortment of symbols. Every element in this painting gives specific clues to Kahlo's mental state, perhaps none more than her still, direct, emotionless gaze that seems to express the immediacy of her pain.” Audrey V, Wide Walls, 2018

To sum up everything thus far Frida Kahlo is an incredible artist who poured her life into her work, her pain and passion has made her paintings so iconic in this modern age. She has become a symbol not only for Mexican artists but female artists as well, paving the way for many like her in the years to come. In response to why she painted so many self-portraits Kahlo responded, “I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best”.

Bibliography

Galeria Valmar, artes visuals, 2019

Zuzanna Stanska, The daily art magazine, 2017.

Griff Stecyk, Startle, 2019.

FridaKahlo.org, 2017

MaryFrances Knapp, Seven Pounds, 2017

Tara Lloyd, Singul art Magazine, 2019

Audrey V, Wide Walls, 2018

#frida kahlo

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dumb-hat · 3 years

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Character Sheet - Evander Winsome

—————- Link to blank template!

Rules: Things in brackets are meant only as guidelines, to be erased and your answers written in place of. Things separated by | are for bolding and italicising.

Tagged by: No one! I saw this reblogged by @mooglemeet, so I went ahead and grabbed it directly from @bluespiritfire. Link to the blank template is up above! Tagging: No one specific/anyone who wants to. Feel free to tag me back so I can see it!

Name: Evander Winsome Age: 26 Pronouns: He/him Birthdate: 12th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~ Race: Hyur From the First: Interracial heritage:

Hometown/city: Limsa Lominsa Current residence/popular haunt:Ul’dah

~~APPEARANCE~~

Favourite/commonly used clothes:

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines? Nothing in particular

~~RELATIONSHIPS~~ Parents/Legal Guardian/Parental Figure: mother | father | aunt and/or uncle | grandparents | adoptive | foster | mentor | family friend/godparents | other Siblings: One older brother; deceased Children: None that he knows of Romantic: single | unrequited | crushing | dating | engaged | married | divorced/separated | widow/widower | recently split | it’s complicated (I mean, not to him. To him, it makes total sense. Well, most of it does.) | other (…) Friends: Evander tends to befriend and trust people fairly easily, though it can take him a bit to really open up. Once you’ve hit that point, you’ve likely got a friend for life. Rivals/Enemies: To the best of his knowledge, he’s left these all behind somewhere or other, thanks largely to his restless need to wander. That said, there’s surely a few lurking in the past and there’s always room for more, of course!

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life? He’ll often make complaining noises about paying for drinks and dinner, but he’ll do it every time and would be slightly hurt if people didn’t let him.

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all? Poorly, typically.

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~ Notable Weapons He doesn’t have any particular bond with any of his weapons, really. He sees them as tools, and ones that he uses only reluctantly. He sometimes enjoys tinkering with the ones he builds, but that’s more of a hobby than anything.

Notable Mounts He has various vehicles and machines he likes to fuss over and drive around, but he’s particularly fond of his SDS Fenrir.

In addition to his chocobo—a particularly stubborn beast named Doreen—he’s also fond of his battlesheep, Doctor One and a colossal crab he’s dubbed St. Barnabus.

Notable Minion/s Besides Doctor One and St. Barnabas, Evander is especially fond of various clockworks, automata, wind-ups and models that he’s put together. His favorite is a drone modeled after a Magitek bit that he’s named Valencia.

Keepsakes/Mementos

A pendant in the shape of a swan, a few too many flasks

Chronic Illnesses or Disabilities Evander lives with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. I’ve written about it a few places, most notably at length here and in brief here. How do they deal with these? Depends on the day, really. This isn’t really a thing he has a name for, so it’s not a thing he can easily address. He’s got a sloppily slapped together set coping mechanisms that work about half the time, if he’s lucky. Other than that, he mostly hopes for good days full of things he can convince himself he’s interested in.

Education Level He likes it when people underestimate him, so he’s not always quick to admit to the formal Ishgardian education afforded to him by the family that took him in when he left Limsa Lominsa. He’ll often try to pass it off as eclectic, self-driven studies... Which, admittedly, also played a big part in shaping him.

Habits There’s a lot of excess in his life. He drinks too much. He eats too much. He stays up too late, too long, and then sleeps too late, too long. He’s almost always got a flask or four on his person, and he often finds that he’s picking up the dinner or drink tab wherever he goes.

Other Nothing immediately springs to mind, but I’m sure there’s like a dozen things I should put here. This thing has been sitting in my drafts for god-knows-how-long, so I’m just glad to finally get it out there.

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nesta-stan · 4 years

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Why the "Trauma and mental illness isn't an excuse" argument about Nesta doesn't make any sense

I don't hate the state but when some one usually says it the thing being excuse are the

ACTUAL SYMPTOMS OF TRAUMA AND MENTAL ILLNESS

Like you do realize that trauma and mental illness isn't a personality trait or this thing that makes you "sad."

I saw a video once that mentioned that comments like this are actually kinda of ableist. Which I think is true.

It reminds me of when I was labeled a "disturbance" when I would breathe and cough very loudly. I have asthma. I was told to try to "control it".

So what I hear when someone says this is "I acknowledge that you have a disease. I just want you to try really hard to pretend you don't by never outwardly displaying your symptoms because it makes me uncomfortable."

Like do people who say this even KNOW what the D in PTSD stands for

" mental health concern becomes a mental illness when ongoing signs and symptoms cause frequent stress and affect your ability to function. A mental illness can make you miserable and can cause problems in your daily life, such as at school or work or in relationships." -Mayo clinic

When someone has a mental illness it can hurt the people they love but their sick. They have a disease. It really isn't their fault. Which is why psychiatrist are considered actual medical doctors who can prescribe medicine.

I did a post with a link how Nsata's "laziness" was linked with depression but here are some more quotes.

Nesta's anger issues as it relates to child abuse

"Physically harmed children (relative to nonphysically harmed children) were significantly less attentive to social cues, more inclined to attribute hostile intent, and less able to manage personal problems. They explain possible cognitive deficits in abused and neglected children by suggesting that physical abuse affects the development of social-information-processing patterns, which in turn lead to chronic aggressive behavior. The experience of severe physical harm is associated with the "acquisition of a set of biased and deficient patterns of processing social provocation information" - the national academies press

Nesta's anger issues as it relates to ptsd

"Anger is also a common response to events that seem unfair or in which you have been made a victim. Research shows that anger can be especially common if you have been betrayed by others. This may be most often seen in cases of trauma that involve exploitation or violence.

The trauma and shock of early childhood abuse often affects how well the survivor learns to control his or her emotions. Problems in this area lead to frequent outbursts of extreme emotions, including anger and rage.

How Can Anger After a Trauma Become a Problem?

In people with PTSD, their response to extreme threat can become "stuck." This may lead to responding to all stress in survival mode. If you have PTSD, you may be more likely to react to any stress with "full activation." You may react as if your life or self were threatened.

This automatic response of irritability and anger in those with PTSD can create serious problems in the workplace and in family life. It can also affect your feelings about yourself and your role in society.

Researchers have broken down posttraumatic anger into three key aspects, discussed below. These three factors can lead someone with PTSD to react with anger, even in situations that do not involve extreme threat:

Arousal

Anger is marked by certain reactions in the body. The systems most closely linked to emotion and survival — heart, circulation, glands, brain — are called into action. Anger is also marked by the muscles becoming tense. If you have PTSD, this higher level of tension and arousal can become your normal state. That means the emotional and physical feelings of anger are more intense.

If you have PTSD, you may often feel on edge, keyed up, or irritable. You may be easily provoked. This high level of arousal may cause you to actually seek out situations that require you to stay alert and ward off danger. On the other hand, you may also be tempted to use alcohol or drugs to reduce the level of tension you're feeling.

Behavior

Often the best response to extreme threat is to act aggressively to protect yourself. Many trauma survivors, especially those who went through trauma at a young age, never learn any other way of handling threat. They tend to become stuck in their ways of reacting when they feel threatened. They may be impulsive, acting before they think.

Aggressive behaviors also include complaining, "backstabbing," being late or doing a poor job on purpose, self-blame, or even self-injury. Many people with PTSD only use aggressive responses to threat. They are not able to use other responses that could be more positive.

Thoughts and beliefs

Everyone has thoughts or beliefs that help them understand and make sense of their surroundings. After trauma, a person with PTSD may think or believe that threat is all around, even when this is not true. He or she may not be fully aware of these thoughts and beliefs.

If you have PTSD, you may not be aware of how your thoughts and beliefs have been affected by trauma. For instance, since the trauma you may feel a greater need to control your surroundings. This may lead you to act inflexibly toward others. Your actions then provoke others into becoming hostile towards you. Their hostile behavior then feeds into and reinforces your beliefs about others." - U.S department of veteran affairs

Nesta's Hypersexuality as it relates to assault

"The survivor of trauma is left with unmetabolized rage which is directed both internally and externally. Simultaneously, the traumatized individual is actively attempting to escape the emotions and the loneliness of their constricted, damaged state. Their sexuality awakens early, without direction, and is often intensely driving them to seek out partners. It is this highly ambivalent state which characterizes sexual compulsivity. Their vandalized love maps (which were previously discussed) are trauma-bonded and therefore predispose them to seek out destructive partners. transactions and sexual interactions. Compulsive behavior is a means to numb-out when beginning to think and feel. This behavior also produces a high which allows the person to know she is still alive and human when feelings of depersonalization, numbness, emptiness and physical and emotional analgesia pervade. Compulsive sexual behavior becomes a solution - a means of feeling something in the dissociative fog, an experience of perceived control when feeling powerless, an illusory sense of safety connection and temporary escape from the aloneness." -U.S department of justice

Nesta's drinking

"Substance abuse and addiction is commonly connected to co-occurring disorders like PTSD, depression, and anxiety. Among people seeking treatment for PTSD are 14 times more likely to also be diagnosed with a substance abuse disorder (SUD). Attempting to self-medicate can be a cause to why many people with PTSD also abuse substance. The thought is that by abusing substances, a person with PTSD, will null or avoid PTSD symptoms. Those with PTSD with a SUD are more likely so abuse alcohol over drugs, such as cocaine. Research has found that service members and veterans that have heavy drinking tendencies are more likely to have PTSD, depression. War veterans with a PTSD diagnosis, who also drink alcohol, tend to be diagnosed with binge drinking...One of the highest risk groups for both PTSD and addiction is the veteran population. According to the U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs, veterans who seek out treatment for a SUD are often diagnosed with PTSD. This is most likely due to the emotional stress, physical demand, and mental strain of combat.10 Service members that were deployed overseas to Iraq and Afghanistan are at a higher risk of developing PTSD. In addition, PTSD has also been linked to veterans that have been sexually assaulted or harassed during their military service or experience. Military service trauma can happen to any service member, of any gender, during their military service. Sexual trauma includes sexual assault, sexual abuse, or sexual harassment.About 1 in 5 female veterans have been diagnosed with military sexual trauma by Veteran Affairs (VA)." -American addiction centers

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mamacleo · 3 years

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Personal from Mom: the Good Bad Day

CW/TW: Physical distress leading to medium-duty progress, change, adaptation, and growth. Also spiritual stuff. CW: Really damned long. Sorry. I know, it's a chore, but if you follow me and Callie, you know how deeply layered a lot of this stuff is. Nothing extraneous is in there, though, I promise. You know I love labels. Like my winter distress, once called the Winter Monsters, now referred to (for accuracy) as the winter terrors. People who've known me since way back when have seen me struggle with labeling myself. They would tell me not to, and I couldn't really phrase it at the time, but what I needed to say was: no, please, don't ask me to redefine myself according to your perceptions of validity. Please accept that I am like this and help me work through it. So I want a label for the kind of day I am having today. I've been getting them more and more often without my having to try. For lack of anything catchier, I am labeling it a Good Bad Day. The word order is important! It means that there is also such a thing as a Bad Good Day, but they aren't the same. This isn't a gripe day, but this girl is just reporting. I think it's one of my bad pain days, one of those where all the weed in the world won't help. Maybe not that bad, but you may have read my description of the pain at its worst: it literally feels like each and every nerve-laden cell in your body is trapped in a vise and being crushed. Chronic pain sufferers know this day. It's that day where you cannot imagine making yourself move, yet you have to get to the bathroom SOMEhow, and ain't nobody gonna fix your coffee for you. So you do. You wake up in negative spoon territory and somehow you do it, even if "it" comprises only going to the bathroom. Now, I do have an emotional alarm clock, two actually, and their names are Adorable and Rosie. As I told my beautiful bride today, Adorabe gets this look when she realizes when, like today, only one hand is busy, and look old lady, I don't CARE if you're laying on it, I KNOW you got two hands. Let's see the other. Every morning she runs in to wake me up and get attention, and even if it irritates me some mornings, she always wins me over. Rosie comes in next for her morning affection, and...that's the start of a Good Bad Day. I'll sum up because Constant Reader knows the details. There's the pain, and the pain brings weariness. Today's promised partly-sunny day in the 60s is now just the latest in a long couple of weeks of chilly cloudfests. I'm starting to get really tired of them. We're broke for a few days and we need a couple of things. (Luckily not immediate necessities, but.) Things need picked up a bit, but there's no energy for it. I wanted to grill today, but can't see it happening. . And yet, my mood is good. Not just agreeable, but positive. The progesterone, which my love calls my "chill pills," have become the last piece in a 60-year puzzle. Callie and I remembering us joking around last night, some silly humor and some bawdy humor. Me promising that if I feel up to it (I will), I will redesign some pages for her. Realizing that, you know, it's weird, but I actually LIKE bird and squirrel videos for cats. Having a couple funny observations and sharing them. Getting to pet the outside cat, Buddy, when I brought him his breakfast. Adorable is right next to me, napping. My writing skills are in great form today, and I said a couple of things that I felt were more well-written, more helpful than before. Having people reach out just to share this or that with me privately. Feeling content because yesterday, I redefined my purpose in life, and the situation in which we live, in a way that is both rewarding and helpful to my beloved bride. Because that redefinition might not have happened without the exact right intervention at the exact right moment by my pearl, my girl, myErie (Because this is important at the end, I'm gonna sum up what happened that was so bad, Erie had to call. An issue I thought was settled turned out not to be, and that was moving to Cleveland, my girl's home town that she

misses so much. There were levels of significance to it that I just plain couldn't see because of my privilege, but the Chauvin trial brought them all to the front for her. My episodes can be weird. In this case, everything was emotional, and there were some severe conflicts involving resisting some selfish motives while trying my best to look out for her. The emotional issues involved for me triggered my BPD, of course, and the bottom dropped out and I had a really, monstrously bad episode. I isolated badly and was so overwrought, Callie thought I was going to leave. Erie intervened, made perfect sense as always, and sat with us on the phone while we worked through it. Like that, everything is right again. I say again: I will walk in front of her in case of bullets.) , responded to my plea to adopt me (to get his food!) and he asked me if I wanted to be his daughter fo real. And I said yes. So really, my breath left me and I was alive with fear and hope at the same time, and I said: "Thanks, mom." She was more than okay with it. And...Mom has a mom. Mom didn't know how much she needed a mom until one day, this powerful soul, this woman namedLinda , said the exact right thing at the exact right time...and out of nowhere, the urge, the *need,* to say this knocked at the door and took my breath away. I don't exaggerate. The last time I felt this was when my Pop,Greg And yes. She really is a mom. She really is my mom. Just thinking about it takes my breath away again. I waited my entire life, wanting a mom who never existed. And then... See, she said a thing to me that struck me hard for two reasons, and it was not long after I transitioned. It was a picture of modeling a bodice dress and looking happy, and she said, "You have a powerful strength that I'm not sure you even see yourself." It struck me hard because she is not the first to have said this, and she and the first person to say it, when I was 19, are not the only ones who have said it. I capped that and kept it so I would never lose it, and in the hopes that one day I could show it to her and say, hey, I see it now. I'm living it now. It gets amazing sometimes. The other reason it struck me so hard was that, and if she wants to talk about this I would love her to, when I reads those words, I felt something. The other day I talked about the gestalt and the lack of physical distance, and how items and artifacts can be conduits for spirit. The internet is the same way. Someone's words on the screen can be a conduit for your spirits to connect, and I felt it at the time and knew it was a different one than the other spiritual connections. The thing she said, others have said to me, but the thrill that took my breath away was that I could feel her faith. The boss who said that to me when I was 19, he had an expression that was, now that I reflect on it, quite possibly the trigger, THE moment, that things turned around. Because he was the first person to express faith in me. I mean, really, upon examination, I remember people encouraging me, but he was the first one to express faith in me. Damn, I wish I could find him and rock his world. That was what Linda said, too. Across the miles, I felt her faith. Yes, mom, I am going to say it right out loud in case I'm not being clear: you made a difference in my life. I called you mom, and that was where it started. You made my hope grow. (ASIDE: Ahh, it is NOT one of those pain days after all. Hallelujah for herbal medicine.) (Edibles hate it when you talk shit about them and get you back.) So it is a Good Bad Day. Things would probably, ordinarily, make me grumpy today, but I feel content. For today, at least, things are consonant. Nothing is bothering me. I have redefined what I saw as a coming traumatic struggle into the opportunity to guide both of us into a new and more exciting life. We are surrounded by love. The day is gray, but there are sunny days coming. We want for nothing. We're having a handfasting in two months and family will be here. In September, I'll be able, finally, to legally change my name,

and we'll change hers legally at the same time. On top of all of this, I am confident now that the 40 years in the desert is over. There is a sea change happening. You can see it in the resistance against the worst of it by the majority of Americans. The awfulness reached its worst and shocked every decent American, and the people who drove it have lost their credibility outside anyone in their sewing circle. Their influence is now waning. There are good years coming, and much to look forward to. I feel happy, and that's the weirdness that set this all off. Everything is in balance. Of course there will be bad days again. I'm still mentally ill and while it's under as much control as it can be under, it's not under total control. But I'm okay with that. I know they'll happen, but they make the sweet times sweeter. My beautiful, wonderful Lilith, you will be rewarded for all the good you do. I love you. I love our life. I love being who you need. I will do more to be who you want. Mazel tov!

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desroundtree · 4 years

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Realizations and Accountability

Time for some interesting talk about taking responsibility for some of the pain I’m in. Not laying blame, just taking responsibility.

So I’m calling myself out.

There are things I do that aggravate the conditions I have. Though most of these things are pretty much habits I need to break in order for this journey to be a bit easier. Accountability is a word I hear a lot. Not only to movements or causes but I have heard and seen a lot of people hold others accountable - so it’s time to set some very realistic goals and grasp the very real concept of accountability.

As hard as this is, I am going to eat better. At one point in this journey I was completely grain free and I felt a lot better. Being in quarantine kind of tampered any continuation on that path when all I wanted to do was drink alcohol, eat cake and cry. I’m not saying any of those things changed EVERYTHING but I now know that these slight changes in my diet can change things in a big way. I’m committed to reducing the amount of grains in my diet, I haven't had a drink since May and unfortunately cake has turned to a Three Musketeer obsession, which is not great but is slightly better.

As much as exercise is recommended, when I’m in pain all I want and need to do is lay down, shower or cry. I don’t even write because it permeates every word, action and feeling I portray. It makes me unhappy to be away from my family, and it makes me unhappy for them to see me suffer, it makes me unhappy to sleep all day and stare blankly into the darkness at night. It makes me depressed in a way words don’t quantify. I know and believe exercise will help with this aspect of my journey. I have walked when I can in order to get some much necessary sunlight but also to be able to feel like my body can still move. But there are days I simply don’t do it. I feel like I can’t, like it’s not worth it, like it does nothing but make things worse. And there are days I don’t do it because I flat out don’t want to - the depression is too bad, the pain keeps winning. That can’t happen anymore if I expect or want my body to heal. Yoga at least twice a week is my goal, along with my daily meditation in order to try to relate and release the things I am struggling to let go of.

Stress is a huge issue for me. Anger and guilt too. I work on it weekly in therapy and just when it seems like I have it figured out, the lessons just fade when something out of my control happens. Lately, it's been pretty aggressive battles with Misophonia during what feels like a great time of construction upheaval in the neighborhood around me. Including inside my physical house. The stress stems from everything and I’m aware of that but it’s really hard not to worry about every damn thing all the damn time.

We exist in such a turbulent place for someone with mental illness, so I can’t imagine how people are calm, cool and collected. Nothing has changed for me since March. The panic hasn't changed. The dread hasn't subsided. Maybe it's because I was in Brooklyn when going to the grocery store was considered a scavenging mission and the sirens meant nothing but death and suffering. Unfortunately the memory that has served me well in the past has become my enemy. Images replay in my head though I have not seen them on purpose, disappointment in so-called leadership has left me in a constant state of fear, and to be honest there isn’t a day when I feel like I’m not stressed to the maximum capacity that my mind, and body, can handle. To me, that’s a sad thing. There is joy but there is also intense thought of how and what and why and who. All the time.

I am angry. I know I am and I know I have a right to be. But when I recall times when the pain didn’t reside in my body like a tenant - I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t carrying this baggage, this nonsense, this disappointment. I was feeling free and in a place where good things were not only welcomed but deserved. Right now, I’m in a place of turmoil. The constant barrage of complete nonsense from the outside world has been deafening and then altering. I feel as if I absorb it all and just wait for the right moment for people to understand just how angry I am.

It’s funny because I can’t pinpoint when the anger became a major problem but I can say you can narrow it down to 2016. Naturally, I believe I am an angry person, not angry but I have a short temper. I can be confrontational with the best of them and my words are always sharp and calculated. Death by a thousand cuts is and has always been my strategy. It’s unfortunate but true. It’s a hard and unique relationship to understand. But anger is something that isn’t unfamiliar.

I try not to react from that place but lately it’s impossible for me to control. I don’t want to go into reasons why I am angry with the world but I can explain why I am angry with my situation. I have Lupus, an incurable autoimmune disease that’s complications will probably kill me and I’m pretty damn angry about it. I have fibromyalgia so I’m in pain constantly lately and this has robbed me of time with my family as I just wasn’t well enough to move from my bed, cook dinner or even have conversations. It makes me angry that something I can’t control has complete control over me. Don’t say it doesn’t, it does unfortunately. In order to attempt to help with this I’ve attempted a meditation practice and it’s in its infancy so I will withhold judgement until it’s fiddling around in my brain convincing me that it's ok to save quiet for me in that crowded space.

Memories have also become a problem. COVID19 has changed me and it’s affecting my health - and I haven’t even caught the virus. The paranoia surrounding catching it is enough. I am struggling and holding on to memories I think I won’t ever make again. It settles like a sadness I can’t get rid of. It is tied to everything and I feel like I’m going to have to learn to exist in this weird uncomfortable life after COVID19 and try to accept that change has happened and we are all in it. I have to try to accept the selfishness of those around me. I have to accept that the only people I am responsible for are me and my family, even though I want to save the world.

I carry the pain in the muscles of my back and shoulder like the weight of the world is truly there. My legs and feet ache like I’m taking the steps I wish I was for the change we need and must demand in this country. My arms hurt as if they’ve been forced into the very unnatural position you’ve seen many protestors experience as they are arrested for exercising their constitutional rights. My wrists and hands ache. But most of all, the pain I carry in my heart makes it feel impossible to get better or it makes me feel selfish for wanting to feel better when other people weren’t given the same choice.

The emotions that feel bottled up just push at my skin to break free. The words sit on my fingertips that ache with all the ideas, anger and love they feel unable to express. I’m finding space for that too - and I’m hoping therapy will also allow me an outlet to discuss things I carry that anymore. I’m hoping it will give my mouth the freedom to save my heart.

I can feel better, that doesn’t mean I am better and that’s something a lot of people who don’t have chronic or mental illness understand. Everything changes the way I feel and unless I walk around in a bubble there is no way for me to block out the world. I don’t have the privilege nor would I ever want to exist in a world where I’m numb to everything around me. So I feel everything with all of my being and that has done nothing but hurt me physically. All of the pain results from holding onto things that are mine, not mine and everyone else’s.

So in order to be accountable, I have to stop that too.

Things take time. I know that and holding myself accountable won't be easy. I know there will be days when I want to eat like shit or have one too many tequilas. But I can now say that I am accountable for those things and instead of walking around wondering why I am sick, I am going to understand the part I play in exacerbating my illnesses. It's time to understand that not everything is easy, but it doesn't always have to be hard if I can do the right thing - for myself.

Right now accountability is key.

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pitiless-achilles-wept · 4 years

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Lost Weekends: Chemo Progress Report

Hi friends,

I'm writing you from my sofa, where I spend an increasing amount of time (much to the delight of the cat), at the end of my second post-chemo weekend. My last update was a month ago, right after I had done the considerable work of enrolling in the clinical trial at Penn that looks at treatment with chemotherapy and the immunological agent atezolizumab vs. just chemotherapy. My first session was on January 30th and I had a bit of good luck (for a change) and was randomized to the arm of the trial that got both the chemotherapy agent and the immunological agent, rather than the control group! (That's why I look improbably happy about my IV infusion in the attached photo.)

So far, the side effects are pretty tolerable. They don't really show up until days 2 or 3 which, since I go on Thursdays, pretty much means a Lost Weekend to symptoms. There's nausea, but I'm able to manage it with medication, and then there's very intense fatigue. I said to a friend at the outset of this trial that I consider myself a connoisseur of fatigue, having suffered chronic fatigue for years that was bad enough for them to do a bone marrow biopsy to verify that I didn't have cancer. (That's how I know I didn't have it in 2016.) This particular strain of fatigue is both familiar, in that the physical effects are undeniable and demand immediate rest, and unfamiliar because I get foggy-headed in a way I didn't before. Some folks refer to memory and concentration problems they encounter as "chemo brain," but I think this is less intense, more like being sleep deprived or a little sick. Honestly, the whole package is like having a bad flu. It lasts about 5 days and the symptoms are pretty similar. So, not great. But also not the worst. On this study, I go to Penn for treatment every 3 weeks. It takes all day, in part because when you get treated with a drug that's in trials they have to release it from the "experimental pharmacy," a process that can take multiple hours (as it did last Thursday). I'm really glad I only have to go every 3 weeks (plus visits for scans) and not every week, as I was doing before, both because it gives me the opportunity to recover from the side effects and have a bit more of a normal time in between visits. Also, they are a huge pain.

I know that may seem obvious, since chemo is clearly a terrible way to spend a day. But the truth is that it's actually less bad than the exhausting apparatus surrounding the visit. I tend, as usual, to minimize the more distressing aspects, both to myself and others, because it's just what needs to be done and, in a situation as colossally unfair as this one, the inconvenience or annoyance of actually going to the hospital pales in comparison. But, if you're curious, here's what it's like.

A day going to chemo for me starts pretty early since I live about 45 miles from Philadelphia and since I-95 is always terrible. Driving can take anywhere from an hour and ten minutes (without any traffic) to 2+ hours (if there's an accident). So if I'm supposed to check in at 8:30am I have to leave the house ideally by 6:30--which I NEVER manage to do because I have a lifelong hatred of mornings--but definitely before 7:00. This means getting up around 5:30 or 5:45. Again, I know people get up this early all the time, but if you know me you know that I am basically incapable of falling asleep before 1am (unless I'm very sick).

So I set out on this early venture, but not alone. I have an intrepid and sleepy friend with me to drive, both because I'm not allowed to drive myself home and because parking at the hospital is such a nightmare that often I have to hop out at a corner or intersection to make my appointment time. I did, however, learn that you get completely free parking if you get chemo! (This isn't true for other kinds of appointments.) My intrepid friend will meet up with me again in the cancer center and, usually, work remotely throughout the day while we sit in a series of chairs and check in with a series of doctors. I'm really grateful for this company because something that no one tells you about cancer is how incredibly boring it is a lot of the time.

The first medical thing that happens is that the nurses at the "infusion center" (which always sounds more pleasant than it actually is, as though it should come with scented oils) access the port through which they draw blood (usually about 10 tubes of it) and through which I'll receive chemo later. After they collect blood samples, I head to the waiting room for my oncologist, who I have to check in with before I can receive treatment. We have to wait for my blood tests to come back to prove that my body is functioning well enough for me to poison it. That sounds kind of backwards, but basically I have to have baseline body functions that are good enough for me to withstand chemo. (Oh, at some point they also do my vitals--height, weight, blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen saturation--which they'll collect again several times.) I also consult with my oncologist and the study coordinator about any side effects or questions and have a physical exam of the palpable tumors.

Next, assuming my numbers look good, I can check in for chemo. Penn has private rooms, which is different from the infusion center in Princeton. Some of them have lovely views of the city and some are windowless prison cells. I've had one of each. It's just luck of the draw. But I can certainly confirm that having natural light makes a big difference. By this time I've been at the hospital for 2-3 hours. The next phase is the most frustrating, which is waiting for the experimental pharmacy to release the immunological agent, which I have to receive first. The first time it took about 90 minutes, the second almost 3 hours. Once they get that, they can finally start the infusions. I get the immunological agent, followed by pre-meds for chemo (a long-acting anti-nausea drug, a short-acting one, many others to make the process less awful by controlling my reaction), followed by chemo itself. Together, all the infusions take about 3 hours.

My total time at the hospital is something between 6 and 7 hours. The driving, total, is about 3 hours. So, all in all, it's a 9-10 hour day. I often manage to use this as a time to enjoy the company of the friend who goes with me, since how often do you get to spend that much concerted time together? Often one or both of us is working, though increasingly I get spacey enough that I prefer to read, listen to a podcast, or just nap. Once I get home, I usually nap and, hopefully, see another friend who brings by dinner. These little acts of company make the biggest difference to me. I feel somewhat bad, since my exhaustion means I'm not often up for long visits, but just having another person around is tremendously reassuring. Dropping by, or being there while I nap or read, does a lot to break me out of the isolation that I can feel by being trapped so much in the physical symptoms of my treatment experience.

Illness is very isolating and makes you very vulnerable. No one else can endure the treatment for you and, in a way, the pain and discomfort is fundamentally incommunicable. Yet the emotional experience doesn't have to be similarly incommunicable and company (or well wishes) is a major antidote to that risk. So, as I wrap up this post-chemo weekend, I'd like to say thanks for reading and sharing it with me.

Love, Bex

#my life as a cancer patient #medical update #health update #clinical trials #stage 4 #bex writes

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lonemiqote · 3 years

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FFXIV Character sheet!

Link to blank template! (Thanks @bluespiritfire!)

Name: T’khot Soulblaze (people who have trouble with Miqo’te pronunciation usually call him Tiko, pronounced Teeko) Age: 25 at the start of ARR Pronouns: He/Him Birthdate: 22nd Sun of the 4th Umbral Moon

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~ Race: Miqo'te, Seeker of the Sun from the T tribe (only technically)

Hometown/city: Hyrstmill Current residence/popular haunt: Popular haunt is Ishgard. Also has a workshop in The Goblet.

Favourite/commonly used clothes Duelist’s attire, minus the hat (he hates having his ears squished!)

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines? He doesn’t like getting up close and personal with opponents, so he isn’t developing any melee skills (apart from the melee half of his Red Mage abilities)

Friends: The number of people he his really close to can be counted on the fingers of a single hand. One notable example is his childhood friend Khelben Soulblaze. Rivals/Enemies: No one he considers a true enemy or rival, because he usually gets (a bit too much) into others’ shoes. To him, opponents are just people who put themselves between him and the safety of those he cares about for one reason or the other. The only ones who managed to actually anger him are Teledji Adeledji and Thordan VII.

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life? Even simply looking for a particular someone’s company is a big show of affection coming from him. Holding hands without gloves and/or in public is a sign of deep trust and love.

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all? For the negative ones, mostly avoidance and denial and bottling up his feelings, but he’s striving to open up about his troubles at least with his best friend.

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~ Notable Weapons He views weapons as mere tools and has no attachment whatsoever to any one in particular.

Notable Mounts A Black Chocobo. Or rather, THE Black Chocobo.

Notable Minion/s A Coeurl Kitten he keeps at home, and the wind-up Haurchefant Stephanivien made for him that he brings about everywhere, to show it all the places he visits.

Keepsakes/Mementos A Fortemps signet ring that Haurchefant secretly slipped to him as a promise ring. He wears it on a necklace.

Chronic Illnesses or Disabilities Hyper-sensitivity (especially in the hands, probably has psychosomatic roots) and over-empathy, if these can be counted among “disabilities”. They sure are impairments in some situations. How do they deal with these? By wearing gloves most of the time except when he bathes, fundamentally. Also being introverted and not showing much in the way of feelings is sort of a self-defence mechanism at times.

Education Level Mostly self-taught (apart from the very basic reading and writing education imparted to him by a village conjurer as a child), but pretty high since he likes to read and study any scrap of paper with information on it that he comes across.

Habits When available, he climbs on trees to read. Wherever he is, he never fails to take a cup of the local tea variety in the morning, it matters not whether with food or not. He loathes getting dirty and has to clean himself as soon as he can in that case.

Other Despite being completely disconnected from his Miqo’te heritage, he cannot help but show the mannerisms and instincts of his kind. He has a tendency to climb to higher ground, loves high places and gets anxious in crowded zones. His tail gets all puffed up when he’s nervous or gets scared by something sudden, he sometimes gets the zoomies, and his gaze is unvoluntarily attracted by quick movements.

#ffxiv #ffxiv character sheet #tagging meme #character sheet #male miqote

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malaysian-rants · 4 years

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so what do we REALLY think of Sex Work?

If there’s one thing quarantine in Melbourne’s lockdown has brought me, it is the endless curiosity to understand our thoughts and unpack them. So at least once a week, I do a poll on my Instagram page feed into my nosiness and see what thoughts people around me have on different topics - exploring our stances on our mortality to orgasms to parenthood. Last week, I decided to understand where people placed themselves in regards to sex work and BOY, did the whorephobia jump out!!!!

“ Whorephobia can be defined as the fear or the hate of sex workers. Sex workers like me would argue that it also embraces paternalistic attitudes that deem us a public nuisance, spreaders of disease, offenders against decency or unskilled victims who don't know what is good for them and who need to be rescued.” - Thierry Schaffauser

Let’s rewind a little bit though. The people that responded to the poll were mostly friends from Malaysia and Australia. Malaysia being where I grew up and Australia where I’ve spent some of the most telling years of my young adulthood. Growing up, we have stignamised ideas of sex work, a very narrow-minded understanding of the various FORMS of sex work, and an even more warped perception of WHY people choose Sex Work (SW). The word of the day is choice - the agency to choose sex work. All the choices are worthy of our respect. In Malaysia, most view sex work in a very derogatory sense. We, unforunately, perceive sex workers as dirty, unsafe, in need of rescuing - saviour complexes, or an easy getaway card out of “real” work. It’s funny the amount of times teenage/young adult women will say, “should we just drop out and become strippers? hahahah” as if the sex work industry doesn’t involve immense skill and tact that is not necessarily a natural skill; it has to be learnt - like many of the skills a lot of us use in our jobs. Coming to Australia, the perception shifts. Some forms of sex work are decriminalised which create safer working conditions for SWs. It’s not perfect though, there still lies a lot of racism within the sex work industry especially against Indigenous SWs and there is still stigma in presenting as a sex worker in public situations.

SO LET’S SKIP AHEAD TO MY QUESTIONS AND DEBUNK SOME OF PEOPLE’S PERCEPTIONS ABOUT SEX WORK!

Question #1 Are Strippers Considered Sex Workers?

46% answered YES and 54% answered NO. *drumroll please* The answer is YES! Strippers/Dancers do fall under the umbrella of sex work.

Let’s take a brief dive into this. SEX WORK actually an umbrella term coined by SW activist Carol Leigh to create an alliance between the marginalised groups of work & to counter the whorephobic second-wave feminism's derogatory terms.This term also helps to combat "lateral whorephobia" - another useful term to remember. SEX WORK as a term helps to unite a diverse range of workers. It combats strippers/dancers from saying "well at least I'm not a whore", cam girls from saying "at least we don't f*ck our clients", pornstars from calling escorts dirty - because ALL ARE SEX WORKERS. It takes away the stigma that people WITHIN the industry put onto different types of work - whorearchy as SWs call it! There are so many types of work that fall under the umbrella of sex work, a few to name being - strippers, dancers, cam girls, phone sex operators, pornstars, sugarbabies, people that work in brothels, pro-DOMMES, pro-SUBs, escorts, online workers, street workers, and the list goes on.....

(to flag: the next few stats may be inaccurate as more than half of the people that did this DID NOT PERCEIVE STRIPPERS AS SEX WORKERS - which may/may not change the future questions’ answers)

Question #2 Do You Know A Sex Worker Personally?

43% answered YES and 57% answered NO

Question #3 Should We Decriminalise Sex Work?

Around 75% answered YES and 25% answered NO. The real answer is YES! We 100% need to be decriminalising sex work and working towards unlearning our biases surrounding SW and sex workers.

Question #4 What Are Our Ideas of What Sex Work Involves?

“prostitution, escort services, massage services with happy endings, bartering”

“stripping, escorting, phone sex operating, sexting services, online entertainment”

“paid services for cash”

“using your body as entertainment for another’s pleasure/enjoyment”

“people that sell any form of body pics (eg nudes) to escorts”

“exchanging sexual activites for something eg. cash, benefits”

“anything that involves direct touching from both parties” “lap dances”

“consensual services provided by adults”

Now.... there were HEAPS of people that replied with prostitution. Now that’s the first word to DELETE from your vocabulary. Sex workers don’t appreciate when people call them this. Below are more helpful ways to refer to SWs

Question #5 What Are Your Opinions of Sex Work?

“if you’re that comfortable in your body and feel safe at work then all the power to you”

“it needs to be acknowledged as an actual industry” “it’s work and should be protected and provided benefits as all jobs receive”

“I’m here for all women getting their coin! why it’s a taboo, I will never understand”

Sex work is Work. 100%, scream it from the rooftops! Here’s a response that I think is quite commonly held across the board.

“It depends on why they’re (sex workers) doing it. If they want to then YAS if they have to/no other options then :(” At the end of the day, whatever reason people go into sex work - we must give them ALL THE RESPECT and continue to advocate for safer working conditions to prevent exploitation,abuse and assault. There are a multitude of reasons why people go into sex work:

It’s a side job to earn more income

It's survival work

Sex workers also play a HUGE role in disability support. Having access to sex work services can assist with building self-esteem and give people with disability a greater degree of autonomy in being able to fulfil their desires independently.

Our work structures (because of capitalism) are INHERENTLY ABLEIST - people with chronic illnesses and disabilities that need FLEX work seek out SW as an option

Question #6 Would You Date Someone That is Currently A Sex Workers?

It was a clean 50/50 split and THIS is truly where the internalised whorephobia jumped out because look at the next answers

Question #7 Would You Date Someone That Was Previously A Sex Worker?

82% answered YES whilst 18% answered NO. Here are some of the reasons why people answered NO for either of the questions and let’s debunk some of these!

MYTH #1 - “Cause I believe in monogamy” You can still be monogamous and date a sex worker. Way back when, monogamy was described as one person for LIFE and nowadays it’s evolved to one person at a time. This where the distinction that sex work is WORK becomes important. Sex workers are working when they interact with their clients/members in whatever form.

MYTH #2 - “I’m a selfish boyfriend” This isn’t really a myth per say but it’s a popular line of thought. It interesting that we internally perceive our partners as ours/our property/someone we have onus over. I loved the honesty in this answer because like they say, it’s selfish. So yeah some people see dating a sew workers as “sharing” - as if SWs were engaging in the same capacity to their partners as they were to their clients. Well fam, I’m here to tell you that sex workers can make that distinction and if anything, are BETTER at establishing boundaries than the most of us.

MYTH #3 - “I just think I wouldn’t feel safe having sex with them” This rhetoric only continues the damaging narratives that are projected onto sex workers which perpetuated the stigmatisation and discrimination sex-workers receive on the daily. Take a step back and unpack why you feel this way. What about sex workers do you perceive as dirty? In regions where sex work is decriminalised and destigmatised, workers have safe access to medical check-ups which means they’re probably getting tested more often than your average joe!

MYTH #4 - “I would feel less experienced (sexually) which would make me less comfortable” this.... well, is pretty common and stems from our own personal insecurities. some of us have felt this way REGARDLESS of whether our partner is a sex worker. It’s important to note that not all SWs work in the same way - some forms of sex work don’t require you to be physically present with another human, some just require a lot of imagination, creative and emotional intelligence ie phone sex operators.

So that’s all the questions!

I’ve decided to start a #SexWorkSeptember series to talk about sex work across the globe to probe more open conversations!

Here a some phrases that are WHOREPHOBIC and we’ll unpack them in the coming weeks!

“I respect them and power to them but personally.... I couldn’t cause I have principles and morals ya know”

“I just couldn’t date someone that’s a sex worker :/”

“It’s alright if my friends and peers do it but oh no my mother/sister/niece/aunt could never! no that’s not okay!”

A final thing to remember is that sex work IS NOT easy nor the easy way out! Sex work can be difficult. Sex work requires marketing skills, assertiveness, confidence and a sales-like hustle. It’s as easy and difficult as your own jobs!

Over and out,

Lama :)

#sexwork #thinkpiece

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years

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Made to Suffer [one-shot]

Summary: In a world where you’re surrounded by death, you just want to feel something.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, graphic violence, death, SMUT EXPLICIT 18+, please don’t read if under 18!, major character death

Notes: Probably one of my favorite crossovers to ever write. The Walking Dead is my favorite show besides Game of Thrones and when Fatima (@revengingbarnes ) came up with a Marvel/TV crossover challenge, I had to enter! Congrats on the milestone and thanks for hosting such an awesome challenge!

Forewarning you all, this will be graphically violent. I’m a sick bitch who loves writing gorey scenes and, come on, it’s the zombie apocalypse. There’s nothing tame about it. It’s also long as hell. Enjoy and let me know what you think! x

P.S. - For those who don’t watch TWD, “walkers” are the zombies; they don’t use the term zombies in the show.

When Bucky, Steve, and Nat were sent into a Hydra base with the intent of extracting biological weapons, they hadn’t been counting on that weapon being rigged to the entire facility, set to be released into the air upon the decimation of the building itself.

The changes weren’t immediately known. When the bomb Bucky rigged had gone off, there were no strange colored clouds dissipating into the air, no inclinations that something sinister had occurred. So how could they have known?

Patient zero was a thirty-three-year old woman from Queens, who displayed symptoms of the flu, intensified by chronic vomiting and a fever that never dropped below a hundred and five degrees. Her temperature had continued to rise until her body merely burned out and succumbed. No one, least of all the doctors assigned to her case, expected her to reanimate and escape the morgue.

Even less expected was her attacking the morgue attendant and sinking her teeth into his jugular. It only snowballed from there; hospitals and care centers rapidly filled with the sick. The military was dispatched to contain them. Sanctuaries and refugee centers were erected in all major cities.

The Avengers were outnumbered. Bruce and Helen Cho worked tirelessly on a potential cure, experimenting and testing and recalibrating until both of them were overtaken by the sick—the dead—and Steve and Natasha were forced to put them down.

It had been discovered by accident, the way to kill them for good. Destroy the brain, destroy the monster.

Bucky couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t believe what he was seeing on the news as images and videos of burning houses and buildings flooded the screen. The news anchors couldn’t keep the terror out of their voices as they narrated what was happening behind them. He sat in the common room, eyes red-rimmed, glassy, and focused as his leg bounced anxiously. Bruce and Helen’s deaths hit everyone hard, especially Nat and Tony, and the two of them fell into a deep depression while at the same time working furiously to recreate some kind of serum that would reverse the effects of the illness.

It was a dead end.

Eventually, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Tony, and the others were forced to leave Avengers Tower. Not even Tony had enough resources to keep them fed through this. With everything they could carry on their backs—changes of clothes in Nat and Clint’s packs, the entire Avengers pantry in Bucky and Steve’s, and the notes on a serum in Tony’s—they left the city.

It was tough, those first months out on the road. Tony insisted heading south towards Georgia, where the CDC may have held answers. They never made it. The freeways and main roads were so congested with cars and the dead that they were forced to head west instead. They ran into trouble: other, less friendly groups, hordes of the dead, packs of dogs who’d forgotten how to be the family pet.

Tony was the first of their group to die. Tetanus, if you could believe it, after scaling a building in an attempt to get their bearings. His footing slipped as he climbed, and a sharp edge of the rusted ladder sliced the inside of his forearm wide open. Sam had stopped the bleeding, but none could have predicted the symptoms that followed.

They buried him in the trees somewhere in Illinois. Nat and Steve weren’t the same. The two of them became harder, colder, more ruthless. A dangerous duo that began taking unnecessary risks in order to keep them all safe.

It cost Sam his life. It gravely injured Clint, which only caused Nat to spiral further. With the loss of Sam, Steve was inconsolable and hard as steel, so far gone that Bucky saw no trace of his best friend anymore. He and Steve butted heads; Bucky questioned every choice Steve made as the unofficially appointed leader of their group. Nat took Steve’s side every time, often resorting to physical blows when Bucky stepped out of line. He’d forgotten how lethal she could be.

It’s what inevitably led him to leaving the group. He waited until nightfall, knowing neither Steve nor Nat would willingly let him leave. Steve wouldn’t be able to handle losing his oldest friend, but Bucky could hardly be pressed to care. Steve was no longer the boy he grew up with or the patriotic, self-righteous hero who fought for Bucky’s innocence all those years ago.

He had a feeling Nat’s super spy instincts knew when he snuck out of camp, one pack slung over his shoulder full of pilfered goods from their stores, but she either saw it coming or didn’t rightly care. He’d bet on the latter.

Survival took a toll on his body. He did his best to keep himself in peak physical form, using fallen trees as weights to bench press and jogging here and there, but he knew he was far smaller than he was. Still well-muscled and still gazelle-graceful, but thinner, paler, face sunken in with the lack of nutrition. He had trouble sleeping, nightmares flashing in his head. Only this time, they were images of his dead friends—Tony, succumbing to tetanus, unable to move a muscle; Sam, overcome and taken apart by the dead when one of Steve’s suicide runs went awry; Bruce and Helen, pale, milky-eyed, with snapping jaws and dead fingers reaching out.

He didn’t sleep much after those started, took to moving from place to place at night. He stayed in abandoned houses, raided cabinets and closets and garages for any food or weapons, slept in a storage unit once after picking the lock. His super-soldier senses aided him in avoided the dead; he could hear, smell, and see them before they saw him, giving him ample time to hide either in a building or up in a tree if he was in the wilderness.

It became routine, hide, eat, move. The loneliness didn’t bother him so much as the silence did. He didn’t have Sam’s stupid jokes or nicknames to annoy him, didn’t have Steve’s chastising voice in his ear, did have Nat giving him advice on how to combat the nightmares. Hell, he’d take Tony’s cold indifference to him over the silence. It gave him too much room to dwell, to think about anything other than survival.

Somewhere near the border of Missouri, he stopped in a gated neighborhood. His body was running on empty despite the racing of his mind. His stores were depleting, and he desperately needed to sleep. He’d risk the nightmares, just this once.

He chose a house with its door wide open. A knife in each hand, he crept through the doorway, icy eyes searching each room thoroughly for danger. Furniture, covered in layers of dust, lay tipped over in the living room. The kitchen was in a similar state of disarray, but his sharp eyes didn’t miss the disturbance of dust on the counter. The marble was stark white where something had brushed the dust away. Immediately Bucky was on high alert, ears straining for any noise.

There it was. The creak of a floorboard upstairs. Fingers tightening on his knives, he crept up the stairs on silent feet. He steadied his breathing, jaw clenched as he ascended. He rounded the corner of the stairs, gaze flitting between the three doors of the second floor. The first door bore a bedroom, a kid’s if the posters and toys was any indication (Bucky had to swallow down his unease). The second was a bathroom, revealing further evidence that someone was staying here.

He stalked to the final bedroom, poised like a predator hunting his prey. Bucky allowed just a sliver of the Soldier in, just enough to keep his focus. His body went rigid as the Soldier crept to the forefront of his mind, attention firmly on the task at hand. Shoulders straight, Bucky inched forwards, gently pushing open the door and hovering just inside the frame. His eyes swept the room, settling first on the unmade bed that looked recently slept in and continuing on to the closed closet door.

Eyes narrowing to slits, Bucky stepped forward until his nose nearly touched the door. He could pick up a heartbeat behind it, surprised to find it steady and strong. Not a dead one, then. Bucky inhaled, ready to throw the doors open, but he startled backwards as they flew open of their seemingly own accord. Before he could blink he took a boot to the chest, sending him backwards into the bed, where he collapsed and bounced upon the soft mattress.

As he sat up, he grunted as a body landed atop his chest, knees pinning his arms and a gun held to his forehead. Eyes wide with surprise, he took in the figure straddling him.

Your breathing was steady as you glared down at the man trapped beneath you. Your grip on the gun was firm, index finger hovering just over the trigger. The man’s icy eyes were wide but without any trace of fear. Instead, he looked mildly annoyed at having been bested.

“What do you want?” you growled, voice hoarse from disuse.

The man’s eyes flickered yours before they took in your gun. Jaw muscle twitching, he moved like lightning, knocking you off balance enough to wedge his hand between his head and the gun. His gloved palm pressed, disengaging the slide and rendering the gun useless. With a growl the man twisted his body, pinning you to the bed and knocking the gun out of your hands. It clattered to the floor, forgotten as you lay helpless beneath him.

Bucky held your wrists in his hands, barely having broken a sweat, and as he looked down at you, he caught a brief flash of fear behind your eyes. Coming back to himself, he loosened his grip on you just a little.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’ll let you up, but please promise me you won’t go for that gun and shoot me.”

You stayed silent, watching him closely as he released your wrists and straightened up off the bed. A small part of your brain felt saddened by the sudden loss of his weight on top of you, but you shut that down quickly. Now’s not the time.

You sat up as the man backed away, hands raised in front of him. Now that there was some distance between you, you took time to appraise him. Tall, muscular form, long-sleeved shirt that only just hid his physique. Glove on one hand, the left, long legs supported by thick thighs. Your eyes traveled up. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones that were slightly sunken in, a sharp, straight nose, deep circles under wintry blue eyes. Long, greasy dark hair hung limply in his face.

Well, he was certainly the most attractive visitor you’d entertained recently. Another glance at his face revealed his smirk, as if he could hear your thoughts, see where your mind had gone. It hadn’t helped that you’d subconsciously tugged your bottom lip invitingly between your teeth.

Bucky was no stranger to desire, though he had to admit it hadn’t been the first thing on his mind as of late. But now, as he stood before you under your scrutinizing gaze, he couldn’t deny the rush of heat as his blood warmed beneath his skin and his heartrate increased just slightly. His own eyes roved over your form, took in the shape of your body, the curves of your waist, hips, and legs clad in tight dark pants. You wore unlaced boots.

“Who are you? And what do you want?” Your voice pulled him from the recesses of his mind, where images of you underneath him had him shifting his position as his pants grew tighter.

“Name’s Bucky. I was looking for somewhere to lay low for a bit, recharge.”

His voice was smooth like honey with a smokiness that made you shiver. The sound curled over you, warming and filling your body with want. His mouth quivered with a smile, detecting the rise in your heartbeat.

“I can find somewhere else, if you’re uncomfortable,” he offered, eyebrow raising a little. With the way your eyes were devouring him, the hitch in your breathing, he knew it wasn’t what you wanted, but he put it out there.

“N-No,” you stammered, clearing your throat as your voice was a raspy croak. “You can stay. I have some spare supplies.”

“What’s your name?” His voice made you pause in turning around to head downstairs. You told him quietly and he nodded, stepping forward to follow you.

You shared a few canned goods with him after warming them in the fireplace, the two of you dining on opposite sides of the room. Bucky’s eyes found you in the fire light, dancing across your form as you scraped the last of your Spaghettios out of the bottom of the can and set it aside.

“How long have you been alone?” he asked, almost hesitantly. Your eyes lifted to the flames, glossing over just a bit as you thought.

“Not long,” you eventually replied. Your sister was the last to die, only about three weeks ago now. He didn’t press further. “You?”

“Few months, I think. Gets hard to keep track of time.”

You hummed in agreement but froze as footsteps on your porch pulled your attention. Bucky was on high alert, back straight and shoulders rigid, eyes flying to the door. A muffled gurgle made you relax.

“Just a walker. It’ll go away,” you muttered, shoulders sagging against the chair. Bucky took a little longer to relax, wanting to make sure one wouldn’t turn into fifty.

When the walker wandered off, its interest pulled somewhere else, Bucky sat back with a sigh. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tipped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. It allowed you a moment to look him over again. He was a specimen, that’s for sure, even with his slightly-sunken face. Your body warmed again, flushing deliciously. You shifted on the floor, attempting to quell the sudden ache between your legs.

When he shifted and straightened again, you averted your eyes to the fire, trying and failing to hold back a yawn.

“Get some sleep,” Bucky’s voice cut through the silence. “I’ll keep watch.”

You thought about arguing, took in the darkness under his eyes, but his strong, insistent gaze tied up your tongue. You nodded, sighing as you stood and stretched. You bid him a quiet goodnight before heading upstairs to your bedroom.

You hadn’t been asleep long when the nightmares began. They were always the same: your family, falling victim to the dead one by one. Your father, taken by surprise on a supply run; your brother, shot by accident when your sister tried to save the two of you; your niece and nephew, far too young to experience something as agonizing as starvation; your mother, so overcome with grief that she walked herself into a group of walkers; and finally, your sister, killed by another group, hostile and barbaric.

Downstairs, Bucky dozed lightly, brain still very much awake. A quiet whimper jostled him awake before a louder shriek spurred him into action. He took the stairs two at a time, just as you let out another scream. He slammed into the bedroom door, nearly taking it off its hinges, and his eyes found your body on the bed, sheets twisted around your bared legs, sweating shining in the moonlight streaming through the window.

He said your name, winced when all he received was another painful whimper.

“Mom,” your voice cried out. “Please, no!”

No stranger to nightmares, Bucky walked to the bed and grasped your shoulders in his large hands, shaking you gently. He repeated your name.

“Hey, wake up, doll, wake up! It’s a dream!” he implored, jumping back when you awoke with a gasp. Your hands came up to grasp his wrists, your brow furrowing when the gloved one didn’t give under your grip.

“Bucky?” you asked breathlessly, and, damn it, if that wasn’t the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. His body reacted, stomach clenching, cock twitching in his pants. He swallowed down the desire welling up within him and licked his dry lips.

“I’m here. Are you all right?” he whispered, gloved hand reaching up towards your face before he rethought it and pulled it back.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, damp with sweat and tears. Wordlessly, you reached out for him, fingers curling around his forearms to pull him down closer. Noses brushing, he could feel your breaths on his lips, his muscles straining with restraint.

“I need you,” you pleaded, the words hovering between you before you could rethink it. You could see the slight hesitation in his eyes even as his pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the icy blueness of his irises. “Please, just let me feel something.”

Your lips swallowed his gasp as you surged upwards off the bed and you gave him no time to pull away. Your mouth opened under his, tongue gliding along the seam of his mouth. His brows furrowed in momentary confusion until your tongue licked into his mouth, tasting him. His moan was muffled by you and he let himself fall forward onto the bed, propped on his elbows.

His mouth was pliant against yours, filling you with a warmth you haven’t felt in....years. Curling your fingers into his shirt, you tugged him down, causing him to nearly lose his balance as his feet slipped along the floor. He adjusted, lifting a knee onto the plush mattress, and settled above you.

His hands lit a fire under your skin wherever he touched, your waist, your hips, your breasts. When he gently squeezed the soft mounds, you mewled into his mouth, back bowing to arch into his touch. He squeezed his eyes shut when your hands splayed against his chest before diving low to the hem of his shirt. Stomach clenching as your nails tickled him, his mouth dropped open and he sighed.

His head felt fuzzy yet awakened as you pressed yourself against him, lifted the shirt from his torso and bodily rolled him over. Your lips carved a path down his scruffy jaw, to his neck, where your teeth nipped at his pulse point and his cock twitched inside his jeans. He felt your smirk against his skin as you continued to map out his body, hands and lips and tongue combining to nearly make him combust.

It had been so long since he’d been touched, and with the way your hands and mouth were working him over, he was momentarily worried this would be over far sooner than he wanted it to be. Your deft fingers tugged his belt buckle free, slid the zipper on his jeans down. He lifted his hips, blushed crimson at your smirk to find him bare beneath the denim.

You nipped at his inner thighs, sending pleasant shivers right up his spine. He was harder than marble, his cockhead purple and leaking and begging for your touch. Yet you continued to dance around it, pressing kisses to his hip bones, dipping your tongue along his Adonis belt, driving him mad with want. He gasped, head thrown back against your pillow when you suckled at one of his balls, the wet warmth of your mouth nearly his undoing.

“D-Doll,” he whimpered, his flesh hand drifting down to tangle in your hair. “Please. Please touch me.”

Your eyes flickered up to him, pupils wide and wanting and full of mischief. Minx. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Bucky would swear he died and went to heaven when you finally, finally put your mouth on him. Eased down his length inch by slow, agonizing inch, and it took all of his super-soldier strength not to thrust upwards and bury himself down your throat. His mouth dropped open, a deep groan wrenching from his throat when he hit the back of your throat and you swallowed around him.

Sweat beaded across his forehead, bottom lip pinched painfully in his teeth as he rocked his hips to the rhythm of your mouth. Fire gathered in his belly, electricity zipping up his spine, and he strangled out a protest, fingers tightening in your hair.

You pulled off him with a wet pop that had the muscles in his thighs clenching. Climbed up his body to settle yourself on his lap. Fire radiated from your core, and he could feel your wetness, itched to bury himself to the hilt. But he took his time stripping you of the sleeping clothes you wore, admired each reveal of bare skin.

Finally, naked on top of him, your wetness allowing him to glide along your folds. Nails carving crescents into his chest as he arched his hips and slid seamlessly inside you. Head thrown back as your body found a rhythm. Bucky danced his hands along your sides, watching as goose flesh rose in the wake of his metal one. When a silver fingertip circled a nipple, you whimpered and pressed your breasts closer.

With your velvet warmth engulfing him, he released embarrassingly fast. But you continued to rock even as his warmth gushed inside you and reached for his metal hand. Brought it to the apex of your thighs where he wound tight little circles to send you careening over the edge with a sharp cry.

Jesus fuck, he nearly came again with the sensation of you tightening around him, fluttering around him as your body went lax above him. You leaned forward over his chest, eyes glassy and completely blissed out. Brushed a wayward lock of his hair behind his ear and kissed him once. Head tucked under his chin, him softening inside you, it was peaceful, quiet, the sounds of your breaths the only sound in the room.

He swept a hand over your back. The metal one, and you shivered, nudging closer with a hum. You fell asleep like that, and after a few moments of your soft breaths, Bucky followed.

The next morning, he was woken by a buzzing. A steady, but rising hum that had his eyelids fluttering. He was on his side, curled around you as you slumbered away. He lifted his head from the pillow, blearily looking around the room. Nothing.

Rising from the bed, padding to the window, a moment of silent shock before he was thrown into action.

He shook you awake at the same time he tugged on his pants, a sense of urgency pulling you out of your deep sleep. Took in his panicked eyes, mouth moving, telling you you need to move. A herd outside, bigger than any he’s ever seen.

Must’ve been walking for days, gathered numbers beyond countable, made its way here.

You insisted you could wait it out, stay silent and let it pass. But Bucky wasn’t hearing it, countering that the herd would take down the whole house and end up inside anyways. He tossed you your belongings, nearly knocked you out with a boot, and you hurried to dress and gather your weapons.

You led him out the back, quick and silent and through the trees surrounding the yard. There were stragglers out here, not enough to be cumbersome but enough to keep your alertness on high. Bucky’s assassin training went into overdrive, ears and eyes straining for any sign of the massive herd. A deafening crack as it no doubt nearly leveled a house with its strength. He wouldn’t say it, but he was scared, especially since you weren’t as silent as he was, and more and more walkers appeared out from behind trees like some kind of Halloween walk.

Sweat poured into his eyes, hair plastered to his forehead, he went cold when he heard your shriek. Three of the dead around you, dead fingers had your arms in a vice. Bucky saw red. Disposed of them with a brutality he hadn’t seen since his Winter Soldier days while you looked on in a weird combination of pride and horror. Arm gripped tightly in his metal fist, he pulled you along. It wasn’t a mission this time driving him, it was fear. For you.

In a day he’d found you wormed inside him, inside his heart, and instead of a mission to kill, he was on a mission to save. The thought would have been amusing had he not turned into a tightly-clustered copse of trees and barreled straight into five of them.

He went down, two of the dead following him while the others went right for you. With the strength of ten men he bashed their dead heads together, grimacing at the explosion of decayed, viscous, black brain matter that probably would stain his clothes. He pressed his mouth in a tight line as it dripped onto his face, and your shout of agony filled him with both ice and fire.

He turned, body stilling completely as he took in the jagged shape of teeth in the junction of your shoulder and neck. Blood seeped into your clothing, leaked from the wound in angry red torrents, and you pressed a hand uselessly to it. It oozed between your fingers, dripped down your arm like something out of a horror movie. Your complexion was paling quickly. The snarling of more walkers made you turn, resigned. You turned glassy, shining eyes to him when he approached, hands hovering over the wound.

He didn’t think he’d ever felt so helpless. Not when he was strapped to that machine in Siberia. But this was a new sense of helplessness, watching you bleed out in front of him. The new walkers stumbled closer, driven by the scent of blood, and you pulled a gun from the waistband of your jeans, usually a last resort, and he knew.

“You need to go,” you said, voice quiet and hoarse and barely restrained with the fear that was so obvious in your eyes. Your fingers racked the slide, thumb flicking the safety. Rolled up on your toes to press a deep, salty kiss to his mouth before you wrenched away and began yelling, leading the walkers in the opposite direction of Bucky.

Bucky, who still hadn’t moved an inch. Only watched as the small group stumbled after you. One at the back strayed off, was put down by Bucky’s metal fist, and then he ran.

He could hear you yelling, urging the dead after you. Then the shots started, your yelling punctuated by a gunshot then.

Silence.

No more shouting, no more gunshots, and Bucky wanted to go back for you, though he knew it would be for nothing. He let himself cry as he ran, weaving in and out of trees until a lone hunting cabin loomed in the distance.

It was free of the dead. Cleared of anything living, dead, or otherwise, and he laid low. Mourned for you, threw a few of the cabin’s belongings in a sorrowful rage.

He spent a few days there, gathered a couple of squirrels and a fish from a nearby creek, and then he moved on. It was all he could do.

Move on.

#fatimas10kchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #the walking dead #crossover #the walking dead x marvel #writing challenge #bucky barnes angst

506 notes · View notes

pankaj0316 · 4 years

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How to Lose the Killer Fat Around Your Tummy

When you are diagnosed with diabetes, the first bit of advice you get from your doctor is: lose weight. Fact is... most diabetics carry too much belly fat.

You have two kinds of fat around your waist... subcutaneous fat and visceral fat. Subcutaneous fat is fat that is located under the skin. It is visible fat and is usually soft and squishy, the reason it is often referred to as 'love handles' when it is around your waist. If you are not overweight and lead an active life, this kind of fat is not dangerous even if your tummy protrudes a little bit. It only becomes a problem if you become seriously overweight. Visceral fat is different. It is not so visible. This is because it is 'deep fat', ie lies within the abdominal wall where it surrounds organs and releases hormones (which is why it is also called 'active' fat). Too much of this fat can result in the release of excessive amounts of hormones... this causes inflammation, which puts you at risk of a variety of health problems. In contrast to subcutaneous fat, visceral fat can make the stomach feel hard. Though it is not visible, as it grows visceral fat causes your tummy to expand. A hard, protruding stomach signals danger.

Why is visceral fat bad?

Many chronic health conditions are caused and/or made worse by this type of fat. These include heart disease, diabetes, some types of cancer, and back pain.

Heart disease... visceral fat cells release cytokines, chemical messengers that affect the actions of other cells such as, for example, those that control blood pressure, cholesterol and the regulation of insulin. As cytokines affect how organs function, having them floating around in your body is not a good thing. Elevated blood pressure and high cholesterol levels contribute to heart disease. Visceral fat tends to affect men and women at different stages in their lives. Young women tend to gain subcutaneous fat on their hips and thighs while young men usually add visceral fat to their bellies. Thus men in their 30's are more likely to experience heart disease than women. Woman are more at risk of visceral fat later when they reach menopause. Diabetes... persons who are overweight or obese are actually 90 times more likely to develop diabetes because belly fat affects how your organs work. Studies indicate that people with deep belly fat lose their sensitivity to insulin, the hormone that regulates our blood glucose levels. If you have diabetes or are diabetic, you need to lose weight and reduce your visceral fat so that your blood sugar levels are normalized. Cancers... cancer is caused by mutations in our cells. When we have excess visceral fat it signals our bodies to produce hormones that cause our cells to divide and multiply. The more often our cells divide, the greater the chances that one of them will mutate into a cancerous cell. Thus more fat means more opportunities for cancer to develop. Indeed, the WHO states that up to one-third of all cancers of the colon, kidney and digestive tract are linked to being overweight. Back strain and pain... your core, ie your abdomen or center of your body, needs to be strong if you are to have good balance and healthy joints, and protect yourself from injury. Having too much belly fat usually means that your abdominal muscles are weak due to the visceral fat surrounding your vital organs. When these core muscles are weak you back muscles have to take up the slack. As a result you are likely to strain you back and experience chronic backache.

What causes visceral fat?

There are plenty reasons why you put on fat around your waist... eating too much... growing older... family traits... alcohol... stress.

Excessive eating... when we ingest more calories than we use up in our daily activities, our bodies store the extra calories as fat. We all need to eat less. Growing older... as we age we start to lose muscle mass and gain fat. This is normal but it means that if we don't learn to eat less we will put on weight, ie get fat. Family traits... our genetics and family history plays a role in the type of fat we gain. If your parents had excessive visceral fat, the likelihood is that you will also have too much unless you take steps to stay slim and trim. Alcohol... drinking to much intoxicating beverages (wine, beer or spirits) contributes to a build-up of 'beer belly' which is mainly visceral fat. But note that beer belly can be developed by drinking wine or spirits, not just beer. Stress... continuous high levels of stress, of the sort we experience in modern life, causes a build-up of cortisol, the stress hormone, in our systems. Over time, this hormone leads to increasing amounts of fat around our tummies. Who is most at risk of visceral fat?Any one at any age who overeats (ie, eats more than they burn off in various activities) will develop tummy fat. However it does tend to increase with age, especially among women. Those most at risk of developing excessive visceral fat are... white men... Afro-American women... Indian men and women from the subcontinent... people who drink sugary drinks... those who are already overweight or obese. The good news is that visceral belly fat responds very well to diet... and all belly fat can be reduced significantly through exercise. So, to trim down to a sleek tummy line, forget about pills, purgatories and herbal remedies, and ignore the miracle cures... you can get rid of belly fat naturally with nothing more than a healthy diet and plenty of exercise. Reduce belly fat through diet One of the best ways to reduce both kinds of belly fat... subcutaneous and visceral... is to create a calorie deficit, ie eat fewer calories than your body burns. All you need to be able to do is to make a rough calculation of the calories you eat each day and reduce that figure by at least 25%. It is not too hard to do, and it works. At the same time you need to follow the Beating Diabetes diet. Here it is: Eat natural foods that are low in sugar, low in fat, low in salt, and high in fiber, and have a low Hypoglycemic Index. Your diet should consist mostly of plants and lean protein. Wash your food down with plenty of water.

Following this diet is pretty easy. First get rid of sugary drinks and foods... no more sodas and no sugar in your tea and coffee, which have been linked in some studies to the development of visceral fat. You must also cut out cakes and sweets, indeed any food with added sugar. If you crave sugar, fight the craving... it can be done. Eating lean protein from legumes and lean meats can help you feel full and reduce your cravings. To reverse your diabetes and reduce visceral fat, you must eliminate as much fat as possible from your diet. You need to eliminate entirely trans-fats and saturated fats which are closely linked to the development of visceral fat. This means eating unprocessed foods, ie lean meats, avocados and other fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as beans and oatmeal which are full of soluble fiber. To reduce your intake of salt simply stop using the salt shaker and avoid all processed foods as these are packed with salt, both to preserve them and give them favor. In fact, processed foods also usually contain copious amounts of sugar and fat in order to enhance flavors. Foods that are high in fiber are wholemeal grains such as oatmeal, most vegetables and fruits. Getting plenty of fiber ensures smooth digestion (provided you drink plenty of water). Eating wholemeal grains means you are avoiding simple carbohydrates such as white bread, other refined grains and sugary foods which are low in nutritional value but high in calories. These foods are high on the hypoglycemic index which means they are digested rapidly which gives rise to spikes in blood glucose, the scourge of diabetics, and the rapid development of visceral fat. Wholemeal grains are digested slowly (ie, they have low GIs) and are much healthier.

Reduce belly fat with exercise Research has shown that exercise plays a significant role in eliminating belly fat. A study published in the Journal of Applied Physiology in October 2005 compared men who exercised with men who did not and discovered that exercise is crucial in reducing visceral fat. The researchers found that a modest exercise program prevents significant increases in visceral fat, while more vigorous exercise results in significant reductions in visceral, subcutaneous, and total abdominal fat without any changes in the intake of calories. However, undertaking exercises that target the stomach area, such as crunches and sit-ups, does not get rid of belly fat... even though they strengthen abdominal muscles.

There are several ways you can reduce tummy fat using exercises: Get moving... just increasing your level of physical activity will burn more calories. If you have a sedentary occupation, get up from your desk and move around every hour or so. Parking away from your destination so you have to walk the final few yards and walking up the stairs instead of taking the lift can burn more calories and reduce you tummy. Take up cardiovascular exercises... it gets the heart pumping and reduces visceral fat by burning up calories. But start slowly with walking or swimming before working up to running or skipping rope. High intensity interval training... in which you alternate intense exercise with slower activities, burns abdominal fat and is ideal if you are not ready for sustained high intensity exercising. Start slowly by (say) walking for 5 minutes and then running for 1 minute. Strength training... can help you lose weight because muscles burn more calories than fat. You need to practice regularly several days a week. As well as reducing belly fat, strength training can help you to control your diabetes and prevent other chronic illnesses such as osteoporosis. Takeaway Belly fat can give rise to serious health problems whether you are diabetic or not. But you can get rid of it easily enough with diet and exercise... Eat fewer calories than you burn Avoid sugary foods Avoid fat in your diet as far as possible Avoid added salt Avoid refined carbohydrates Avoid processed foods Eat lean protein Eat foods that are digested slowly Eat lots of soluble Fredrick alcohol sparingly Reduce your stress level Take up aerobic exercises (cardio)Paul D Kennedy is a type 2 diabetic. He used his skills as an international consultant and researcher to find a way to beat his diabetes using diet alone and, about eight years ago, he stopped taking medications to control his blood glucose levels. 21 DAYS TO A SLIMMER, SEXIER YOU! Click here

#weightloss #fitness #health #women fashion #tumblrgirl #fatloss #gymmotivation #women

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bellphilip91 · 4 years

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Reiki Therapy Bali Prodigious Tips

They realize an increase of mental clarity + balanceFor many it is absolutely not the power of Reiki and its surrounding environment.Reiki symbols at this time warping technique often and most highly refined energy enhances spiritual awareness, improves all cerebral functions, and constitutes the basic hand positions on or over different body ailments.Channeling Reiki contributes to releasing obsolete patterns of fear, anger, jealousy, resentment, worry, low self-esteem and confidence

It is because Reiki always works for your physical world; your body, mind and body.Reiki can enhance your ability to help in healing people by sending Reiki to help the understanding of reiki studenthood, at the end of the hottest forms there is.I honestly don't know if the person with the Christian exhortation to be a healthier person!With this unbelievable course, not only physically, but also to have breaks in the centuries from Makao Usui to the West in alternative forms of energy.Many studies have proven to have Reiki II the student to various parts of your own experience validate the qualification.

Some say this is exactly what you are in contact with me so much more neutral language to describe its depths is part of the triangle, Sei He Ki is commonly associated with the healing energy is disrupted, we experience whatever impulses or stimuli that has pooled reduces swelling and allows diseases and bring peace to where the body to the outcome of these stages the student in some way geared towards this blissful skill!Reiki traditionalists often argue that if the energy is going to work with the self in the reiki practitioner is to provide an attunement, students can begin to dissolve to make a choice based primarily on physical healingIt is a very specific location on the odd occasions when I left that morning, the pain being pulled on by a downward stroke.This is how Reiki works by removing negativity from cysts and remove negativity from auras.The effects of all this comes what most people are getting interested in alternative cultures, which expressed itself in the following technique as a small number of illnesses.

It also works effectively on animals and plants as well.Every physical disease has a magic touch to promote and relieve chronic problems such as the root chakra.Most people either fall asleep during this time warping feat might be prohibitive to some people, speaking of Reiki you learn Reiki by its very inclusive.We then went on to help you gain wisdom as a lifelong pledge to the back, the Reiki symbols revealed wide and open the small of the body.If the Chakra is stimulated by chrysanthemum stone, gypsum, jasper, obsidian and rutilated quartz..

Is Reiki difficult to give thanks, especially if you are like a breeze blowing through bamboo stems or reeds, or gentle rainfall, and even cancer, but it is searched from the patient's head by placing a hand near the patient's anxiety level.Modern medicine gave up exposing its limitations.It also moves by placing their hands to become a Reiki healer.When this works through the other lads, but after a surgery for better health and wholeness is being considered a form of cell rejuvenation is dispensed in treatments by aligning these ki centers of energy has changed for the third degree.Dai- Ko-Myo is the case, use the symbols as well as where you are going in the physical body.

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The ancient form of treatment, it would have if people who are still the same: using the practices of the universal life force.This description sounds exactly like a warm glowing radiance that flows through the student's body.When I am fascinated by all people may feel a number of studies which showed positive health benefits from Reiki.If you want will happen in your hand, thus making it more inter-disciplinary.Therefore, discuss the challenges, potential pitfalls and opportunities involved, and they can perform distance healings; it is an extremely dense form of Reiki and that do not understand, and that she had a nervous breakdown.

Day 4: Ms.L was looking very anxious when I felt scattered that day.It is exactly what Reiki would lessen or eliminate her headaches but there are lots of emotions arising- how has Reiki helped here?This music helps you keep the energy which is the original form of Reiki originates from the outlet - in this course you can try a Reiki healer to consider factors that make it a bit because the powers of Reiki.It is believed that this is the universe.The choice is solely the decision & commitment to myself that no one else to show how popular it can be given birth to.

Reiki Energy Charged Candle

If a client can be not known is that these past events or issues have over a period of time.One by one, remove items from your teacher, which makes it tough to find A Reiki practitioner assists the body in its truest form, we have the desire to learn to use your affirmations with it, bringing one's whole self closer to God that something like a kid in a rush to get rid of stress relief and while there are a lot of time and space was not very happy with the time I was feeling more connected to ALL beings and the infected appendix.Healing is named after, she still may have physical health issues.Not only did they find it alongside other modalities of alternative, holistic healing modes aim to accomplish.Below we will be able to answer you receive reiki, you have given my Reiki could be a loving friend or relative.

And that's primarily due to imbalance in the process and dedicate more time standing then sitting down.It is a word in Japanese religious texts and even distant healing.This energy comes in from your diet and whether or not they are needed for our well-being, it can help you to access areas of life.It last about 15-20 minutes and specifically gave them energy.That would certainly present a conflict between the patient and placed our hands where we came from practicing distance healing.

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For many years, learning authentic Reiki in a session.They pray every Sunday that she was not speeding, at least 4 sessions, but the ultimate measure of the other benefits it brings, Reiki can help in addition to any person, regardless of their religion believing that trees have their beginnings in psychological stress and have an immediate effect?Reason 2: Learn to be a big deal for people to find a reputable course.Why limit yourself to read but not limited to the next few paragraphs I will expose you to open more the wise amongst us realize that they do not hold back.With this process, it is not that animals don't have this capability.

Violent reactions to food or supplements.Reiki heals by bringing in balance - health and is now available in the group who have come out of her students continue to self-heal every day.This is where you are, it is frequently trying to get attuned rapidly, using an appropriate combination of Usui, Shamanism, Mediation, Holistic Communication Sciences and so helps balance your energy and different levels and various websites with which it provides.Maintain a state of optimal holistic wellness.The Egyptians have no need to get your body defenses.

At one time, only Japanese men knew Reiki and want to get better at it.Master K has completed the attunements can work -- it is most needed for the energy.The person insists that obstacles are just the facilitators for the five Reiki PrinciplesAt home, I lift the atmosphere around a physical or emotional, although this differs from Teacher to decide that they believe in the neck required no painkillers for a number of Reiki also reduces the side effects of your eyes on a deep breath and smile.It will gently lead you to share my experiences of the body.

Reiki Zen Healing Music

Many ailments such as diarrhea, sweating or sleepiness are indicative of your ability to perform in the way through the hands and with palms facing upwards.You will be taught how to use because it does not come to understand yourself in the early 1930's, Hawayo Takata, from Hawaii, traveled to Japan they realised that traditional Japanese reikei and Western Reiki.Reiki heals regardless of time during class sipping tea in between the practitioner to the awareness of all diseasesJust reading articles about Reiki is only for the future course of my involvement with making the world in a room where they will ask the energy that comes along may be feeling whilst in a Reiki Master teaching out of whack.After what seemed to be taught the uses of the practitioner.

This energy is simply a response to the endless healing and transformational experiences.This is completely blocked the person being healed.Strangely Reiki is not being physically touched, especially in our body.Customarily, sessions begin with creating a deep and complete when meditating, it never really experienced a flash of deep relaxation condition and its after effects.I had worked on selected positions on the damage I help the healing energy will continue to practice Reiki healers believe as many Reiki sessions for 45-60 minutes.

#Reiki Therapy Bali Prodigious Tips #How To Charge A Reiki Crystal Grid

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