#instead of upping the dose or changing meds

[batwynn]

I finally get to try a different medication for ADHD via my NP primary care because I explained to her that I’m weeks behind on work, but also I literally have an autoimmune disease that causes open wounds that need frequent care and guess what executive dysfunction and memory problems make really hard to do?

I love having to beg for help using the most extreme versions of my problems via ADHD because my regular day comfort and being able to function just don’t matter.

#adhd #mental health #nurodivergent #medical care #American health care #tw: wounds #tw: medication #tw: mental health #tw: doctors #tw: medical abuse #I don’t know how else to tag it #but uh yeah if I seem unfriendly to doctors let me just sit you down with the past 20 years of experiences #I mean I honestly froze when she said yeah come in and pee in a cup and we’re good to go #like really? #the last two wouldn’t work with me at all #one told me to stop taking the one I was on since I complained that it didn’t seem to be working enough #instead of upping the dose or changing meds #like #anyway #personal #batwynn talks #blacklist last tag to avoid personal posts

[milo-is-rambling]

I can’t even imagine living without anxiety. Like. How. What?

#I mean if I woke up tomorrow with a normal amount of anxiety it would be a shocking difference to my daily life. and I am medicated!!! like. #what? am I missing something here? #my mom tells me that meds can only do so much and that they’re really just meant to make it so you can get out of bed every day #but now I’m wondering like is that true or is that my mom is on the wrong dose herself and something could be done to help us both #gahhhhh idk I just feel helpless bc I’m scared of making big changes and the big changes have to make are scary and large and I need a #bulleted list made of things I can do (and break down into very small steps) to actually progress in a positive way in my life instead of #being SO afraid and SO stagnant. it’s been six months since (ptsd diagnosis causing thing) and I don’t feel like I’ve made any progress even #with a therapist. I’m working towards a more intensive program but I feel like it’s almost making me feel more alienated bc I’d have to like #go be surrounded by other mentally ill people and medical people which brings dad dying trauma and like I know I’m running from it bc I’m #afraid to face the changes I need to make and the feelings that are going to come up but fuck man can’t I get some fucking meds that make #this easier to deal with!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! grief and ptsd and long term isolation and anxiety and chronic pain like fuck it’s #so exhausting!!!! I feel like I’m fucking fighting thru life and then from the outside it’s like I’m doing nothing cause I stay in my room #and get stoned and play animal crossing and watch tv and cry and over eat and sometimes I drive around in circles so I can scream sing until #my throat burns and I get a headache and everything finally quiets down in my head for a second. I know I look like I’m doing nothing and #that’s because I am doing nothing but waiting for the next time a mental health professional will talk to me for an hour like it’s so sad #anyways. you ever take a big dab and then start crying and type all of this like it’s an epiphany even tho it’s things you already know. #honestly crying in front of the air conditioner is so slay slight breeze over my face cooling the tears the white noise calming me down

[introvert-celeste]

.

#Vent #I hate how my brain works bc one moment I'll be fine and then I'll start getting worked up #And suddenly I'm googling 'should I kill myself for blank' #Literally the most mild shit like being white or lazy or feeding stray cats #And while I know that's stupid I know there's people out there who would agree and I don't trust my judgement #I feel like my mere existence is part of what's wrong with the world #I hate having these thoughts so often I don't want to kill myself but it's like every day my brain insists I should #And I don't know if it's depression or a stress induced panic attack (probably both) #I don't know what to do #I changed back to my old meds a few months ago but at a lower dose and I'm concerned I need to go up again #I would really like to be off antidepressants bc I'm afraid something will happen and I'll lose the only doctor I can actually afford #And I don't wanna be left without my meds bc I'm afraid I may actually become suicidal #I don't know I'm just rambling and I think I'm having a weird internal panic attack I don't know I don't know #I hate it #Maybe instead of increasing my dose I'll look into an herbal supplement for my anxiety #I have valerian root to help with sleep but it gives me vivid dreams and seeing as I get a lot of anxiety from my dreams I'm not a fan #Of course my doctor will probably think I'm an idiot if I tell her that #Why can't this just be easier

[freesia-writes]

Lil Life Update for Y'all <3

I've been a lil cryptic or back-n-forth, I think, and just wanted to share a little bit about what's been going on. I say it's not for attention but who knows what motives lurk under there, LOL. It's mostly because I love you all and want to let you in, also hope that it's encouraging or connective for anyone else who's experienced the same, and also I just miss the community I have sooooo loved here. 🥹

I'm a 34yo female with 2 kids aged 4 and 7. I had depression like crazy during and after my second pregnancy especially. In Aug 2021, my primary doc suggested I try something like Zoloft since I'd been complaining of irritability, no capacity, constant worry, and other anxiety symptoms. When I did feel some relief and felt encouraged that I could "feel like myself" again, I pursued solutions for other issues I was noticing. Over the last year and a half, it's been quite a ride. ADHD symptoms led to Adderall for 4 days, then Wellbutrin for a few months, then Buspar for a few months, then Strattera (tapering up and then back down) for about 3 months, then Ritalin for 1 month, which I thought was helping until we realized that the entire month of October was basically an increasingly manic episode.

Whew.

We're talkin 2007 Britney here (ok I didn't shave it but I cut my hair off into a pixie). Spent thousands on a new wardrobe of the "dark academia" style. Bought Disneyland tickets. Invested in a photography mentorship. So much energy and inspiration. Then we realized it was getting out of hand.

I had also been tapering off a lot of the meds over the last two months, so it was just a crazy cocktail of chemicals that made my brain finally go kaput. I finished the last dose of Zoloft on November 5th, and that was the last of the meds, so now I'm off everything. My therapist thought the mania was medication-induced due to all the changes plus the addition of the stimulant, so the goal was to try to allow everything to settle down and see what "baseline" is for me right now.

And it has been frickin HARD.

Cervical vertigo. All-or-nothing sleep and appetite. Extreme sensory sensitivity. Random itchiness. Racing mind. Total inability to focus. And the worst part has been the mood swings.

I'm basically having all the symptoms of bipolar disorder in a rapid-cycle format. It may be cyclothymia, or it may be the withdrawal effects from all the meds, but regardless... It's been quite the roller coaster. The nerd in me has been fascinated by the experiential knowledge of it all, since I majored in Psychology and have always loved learning about it, but the overall negative effects on me and my family have been difficult.

I'm someone who has always relied completely on being highly capable and in control. I find my worth in my productivity and competence. And it has caused increasing stress throughout my life. I've been praying for years that God would break me of it, and I can see how he is using this to do precisely that -- lovingly trying to answer my request to be freed of this relentless pursuit of the illusion of control. He's inviting me to simple, joyful life of trust. The perspective shift is so freeing when I realize that I don't need to have it all figured out because he already does, and I can just rest in his loving guidance and look to him for the next step instead of trying to plan out every possible outcome and strategy. I went on a reflective retreat in the Santa Cruz mountains and just felt so encouraged and loved in the way he invited me to let my shoulders down and to ground myself in his warm provision and care.

But the change doesn't happen overnight.

So in the middle of a total storm of bipolar symptoms -- days of mania followed by days of depressive episodes and being so new at it all that I don't know how to navigate "normal life" with all of that -- I'm also trying to rewire 34 years' worth of the way I think and act. BUT it's a blessedly simple process: the only thing I have to worry about is this moment. I can't affect the future or the past. So all I have is right now, and I can turn to God for guidance, encouragement, insight, or anything I need in this moment, and he is so faithful to give it. But man, it's easy to forget. ;)

Literally me with that right now, trying to figure it all out on my own before I remember I can't and don't need to:

Anyway, this got LONG, surprise surprise, but I've always enjoyed being vulnerable for the sake of connection and potential encouragement. And selfishly, I'd LOVE to hear from any of you who may have had similar experiences. Right now the fixation of my [very limited] capacity is on my photography business, but I've been feeling drawn to writing more and more, and have attempted a lil drabble here and there. So I'm just patiently waiting for the inspiration to return. :)

I have so appreciated the love from you all. I also haven't been as active with reading/reblogging/supporting/etc as I was, and that's just where I'm at right now, but please know that my heart is with you even if my brain is not, LOL.

If you made it this far, you get a gold star. Or a Howzer hug. Or somethin. :)

#freesia writes #mental health monday #just another manic monday #jk today was depressive

[butterflyinthewell]

Changes.

I cried out to my choir a few weeks back about what’s going on and Greg, who owns a home care company like Visiting Angels (but something else, like Care At Home), got in touch with my mom and literally donated a person’s help to us after seeing what a disaster our lives are. I’m still gobsmacked. This restored my faith in God caring when it was just about to fray apart. Maybe He realized He was going to lose me and reached out to prevent that.

So we have D coming over twice a week for a few hours. Mom showed him the ropes for how we deal with dad’s toileting and changing the chux pads on the bed since those are the biggest problem for mom since it hurts her back bending over to do that.

It’s not much, but mom can have a break since D will do things like bathing, toileting, stuff like that. If mom and I want to go out for a short time, we can. It’s Mondays and Wednesdays, but it’s something. I think it’s going to help in the long run.

Dad likes D, and D likes sports, so they’ll get along.

Moving on…

I saw my psychiatrist yesterday. She wouldn’t diagnose me with PTSD even though I think I could have it, but she put me on Zoloft because she said it’s clear I have severe anxiety and depression, especially after I admitted to suicidal ideation. Zoloft treats things like anxiety, depression, ptsd and pmdd, so I think I’m covered there. She’s aware that my symptoms went away when my dad was gone in the rehab facility and that he’s the cause of it all, but because I can’t leave she felt it was best for me to get on meds so I can at least function again.

I took my first dose today and I intend to document my journey. Depression is nothing like I thought it was. It wants me to not care, wants me to think nobody else cares, wants me to stay silent, wants me to shrivel up, and sometimes I rage so hard I scare everybody around me.

But it wants me silent. I decided to talk instead.

The meds won’t show any change for a few weeks, so I don’t know what to expect or if I’ll notice a difference. So taking videos can also be a way to measure the changes. Most of my videos will probably be long and rambly because I’m incapable of being concise when I talk. Sorry.

I’m fighting for my life here and I’m scared.

Link under a cut so it doesn’t get pulled out of tags.

#actuallyautistic #depression #anxiety #meds #dad issues #ongoing drama in my house #AFBV

[hmsindecision]

Ladies I know we talk a lot about female specific disorders and having to be your own doctor so let me share some things about PCOS that you may not know.

If your doctor suggests that you have PCOS, they should be doing a blood panel. They need to check your hormone levels and your blood sugar. This should be enough to diagnose. They don’t need an ultrasound to diagnose and you can absolutely ask them to start with the blood panel at the very least.

Get the cervical cancer vaccine. Just do it. Your risk is higher. Don’t play with that shit, my friend.

There are three medications that PCOS specific and competent can help you with. One is birth control (this is to control your uterine lining and lower your cancer risk). Doesn’t have to be traditional BC pills/patch/ring. There are three month injections, implants, and IUDs. Have mental health concerns or BC gives bad side effects? Ask your doctor if a low or no hormone IUD will work for your situation (usually the copper doesn’t help often. Skyla is a new IUD with a very, VERY low hormone dose).

Spironolactone. This can adjust testosterone levels and level out hormonal acne, hair loss, and other symptoms. It also is a diuretic and blood pressure med so avoid if you have low blood pressure. This stuff clears up cystic hornal acne from PCOS.

Metformin. This is super controversial. PCOS increases insulin resistance and can cause prediabetes or contribute to diabetes. Some doctors consider this a preventative, some only when this is a current concern. This is a blood sugar medication that affects insulin production so really discuss this with any doctor who suggests it. That being said, it can help some women.

Advice about diets to fit beauty culture are bogus. This is not about that. You gotta eat healthier. It is theorized by some researchers (and some is a lot in this area; understudied, remember?) that PCOS is an autoimmune disorder. Cutting inflammation will leave you in less pain and feeling less tired and foggy. I’m not being bougie—simple is fine here—but eat some vegetables. Eat some grains and beans. Switch out some of that alcohol for weed if you need to. This doesn’t have to mean you eat less or even truly different things—I promise that you can add or substitute like one thing a meal and not have a huge issue. Add some zucchini to your pasta sauce. Have some farro instead of white rice. Eat home cooked food if you can!! Just be nicer to your body, don’t judge it. Treat your body how you would treat a lover who is recovering from an injury. Validate, support, and heal.

PCOS has a higher than average correlation with bipolar disorder. Work on yourself, what’s wrong that looks like. If your mind is a temple why are you not sweeping the floors? Care for yourself.

If you do start any of these changes, you may have a resulting stabilization of libido—some women with PCOS have extremely high sex drives and feel that they are on an even keel once they do some harm reduction methods like these. Some who have low libido feel that it goes higher!

Doctors want to talk to you about fertility. That is not my speciality, and it isn’t something that is my personal concern at all. This is just some information I wish I had known back when I started my journey to get my PCOS under control.

#PCOS

[woodsfae]

If you haven't had a hysterectomy, it's hard to even conceptualize how intense the recovery is. My doc says, in impact on the body, it's second only to open heart surgeries and limb amputations! (particularly when the cervix is removed, which mine was)

The weekend before my surgery, I mountain biked 35 miles. I was tired, sure. But fine. As my pain rose over the years, my physical activity didn't really drop. Instead, I just became more and more body-blind as I ignored higher and higher levels of pain to push through.

That isn't an option with recovering from a hysto. After my hysterectomy, my physical restrictions were: no bending/twisting/reaching at all. No lifting more than 10 pounds (I soon revised that down, because lifting even a gallon of milk hurt). I was instructed to spend most of my time in bed. To go for a few walks a day, but to get back into bed after my walks. Whenever I felt pain I was supposed to go lie down again, which meant that I didn't sit up for more than 45 minutes until I was nearly a month post-op. And total pelvic rest. I was supposed to disengage my core and back muscles as much as possible to let all the delicate things that got chopped n sewed together time to heal back up. None of my restrictions were lifted till I was 7 wks post op.

My partner took 100% care of me during this time. He lifted my legs in and out of bed. Laid me down and sat me up whenever I needed to adjust. In the first couple of days, he helped me onto and off the toilet, till I figured out how to get up without using my abs. He lowered me onto the couch and pulled me off. Took care of all the grocery shopping, cooking, and cleaning. He kept track of my meds, got up every few hours all night to get me my pain meds until I could sleep through the night without needing a dose. He did this all with such tenderness! Hugs, kisses, and he held me gently whenever I could be comfortably arranged to be held. He brought me coffee in bed every morning and helped me sit up, and fixed my pillows just so. I cannot express how meaningful this was to me. no one has ever taken care of me like this. Not even my own parents.

I have hyper-independence as a trauma response to my neglectful childhood, and in preparation for my surgery, I almost meditated on accepting help and not trying to do things myself. My doctor was very clear that my best outcomes for surgery were to not do anything but rest and go for walks! Partner was an enthusiastic support in that. He would gently chide me if I got myself out of bed or got myself dressed. He never made me feel like taking care of me was an imposition. He told me to have friends over as much as I wanted, but not to arrange a care rotation: he would take care of me.

The experience of being cared for so gently, so lovingly, so intentionally has rewired my brain. It has changed me, and I can't even quantify the hows and whys of it all yet.

There have been many unforeseen impacts of my hysto, but one of the most profound is that I know I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.

#hysterectomy #surgery recovery #endometriosis #chronic illness #woodsfae

[dangerously-human]

Crashed "for a nap" at 8 last night, in migraine misery, without even taking my makeup off or anything. Set an alarm for 10 with the goal of finishing some writing. Instead, woke up for more meds and to wash my face and immediately went back to bed. I slept for 13 hours (not counting brief, dizzy wakings to deal with the cat repeatedly puking, but that's a whole other post) and I'm pretty sure I could have stayed out for 3 more if it weren't for church this morning. This is actually the worst part of the migraines for me, which I tried to explain to the neurologist on Friday but he's only ever in with me for less than five minutes so I really have to prioritize my questions - the pain isn't actually unbearable (and I don't even get a headache every time, light sensitivity or vertigo alone are often the more severe ones), but the depth of the fatigue is untenable. I can't have a situation like last night and still work. It was all I could do to finish the drive home. And I'm only halfway through (at best) a cycle that, from past experience, I expect to last another day or two. This just sucks, and as it stands, my insurance won't cover a higher dose until I finish the three-month bottle I just opened, so I'm kind of expecting life to just be like this through the winter unless something changes.

#personal

[drdemonprince]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[charlottemadison42]

Love your work. Question: How are you?

Hi! Thank you! Good, actually!

Which is sort of my problem, but -- well, here's the story.

In 2019, before the pandemic was even a thing, I found myself grinding to a halt in every area of my life. No motivation, no way forward, dread of failure at my jobs that translated into literally hiding in bed and failing just as hard as I feared. The news overwhelmed me when I used to be engaged. The work projects I cared most about got shelved and dusty. I stopped initiating anything at all. Even, like, showers and meals for myself.

The pandemic hit, and honestly, things didn't change for me that much. I was already hiding from the world and my responsibilities and feeling awful, and in a way it made everything else outside match up with my insides. I felt guilty for occasionally thinking that. It was a bad time for the world, and a bad time for me.

Thank somebody I hyperfixated on Good Omens. And eventually found fanfic and discord and a community that understood.

I found a refuge in writing two long novels, a novella or two, and a whole bunch of short stories (all of which I still plan to finish).

And because I found some really safe anonymous friendship through this fandom community, I also learned some things about my own mental health -- especially about autism, ADHD, and depression -- things that resonated when friends said them, in a way they never did when I heard about them on the news. In 2022, I felt ready to start trying to get help.

And I got some! It broke the bank, but I saw a psychiatrist just enough times to get a non-stimulant adhd med that gave me back my ability to focus on what I wanted to. (Is it a placebo? I don't know and I don't care; the placebo effect is one of the most powerful effects in medicine, and a reliable way to activate it is fucking fine with me.)

So, honestly, compared to a year ago?

I'm good. I'm really fucking good. I feel more like me again. I'm keeping promises and taking on hard things again. I'm confronting the stuff I shelved and forcing myself to re-engage my own life, especially my work life. I'm even reading the news (in manageable doses).

Resuming an actual job and a life has left me less time for my fandom than I used to have. I only get to write around the edges now, instead of all day. And I'm prioritizing my fandom friendships a little more than my writing, to be honest, because if I only have time for one of those, it's the friends who saw me through a couple of very dark years. But I am still writing. In fact I'm doing that tonight.

The thing I mostly wanted to say to your ask is -- thank you for asking. I'm actually doing a lot better than I was. Sometimes someone goes quiet on the internet, and you might worry that means that things are worse for them, or something bad happened. But sometimes it can also mean something good happened. Me, I made some friends, got some help, and got huge chunks of my life back, chunks I feared were washing out to sea. That means I have to wrangle these icebergs, unfortunately -- but they're my responsibility, and they always were, and I feel like I almost have enough rope now.

Thanks to all of you here for your friendship (and your fandom and your stories and characters and art) that helped me through the valley of dark fuckin' shadows. Know that they are still important to me every single day, even if I'm not a publishing-a-chapter-a-week person anymore. I'm sorry I'm not supplying you with as much story food. But in my case, it's actually a really, really good sign.

#love you #that means you

[only-mostlydead]

Hello. Today is my 30th birthday, and I am in bed recovering from surgery. To entertain myself, I wrote up a list of 30 things I'm glad I learned before I turned 30, and now I'm sharing it with you. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't.

30 Things I'm Glad I Learned Before I Turned 30

You can decline to be weighed at the doctor's office. Seriously. Unless they're dosing meds or need to report it to your insurance for something, you can say no thanks. And if they have to weigh you, you can request that they don't tell you the number.

Fed is better than not fed. There are days when my stomach won't tolerate anything except cheese puffs, so I eat the damn cheese puffs, without judgment. Feed yourself the best you can, and know that this will look different every day

Eventually, people will always tell you who they really are. Believe them the first time (this one comes from my mom).

Not living up to family expectations is very often a good thing. Your life needs to make you happy. You are your own person with no obligation to be what they want you to be.

Having a creative hobby that you're not "good" at is important. For me, it's watercolors. I do them because they bring me joy, not because I'm trying to be good at them. That's not to say that I don't love what I paint - I do. But there's no pressure for it to be anything other than fun.

Your job doesn't have to be fulfilling - it can just be a fundraiser for the things in your life that do bring you fulfillment.

Mental health is every bit as important as physical health. Don't neglect either.

When you have nothing to be sorry for, say thank you instead. Thank you for listening instead of sorry I bothered you, thank you for helping me instead of sorry I needed help. I'm not always good at this one.

Throw away the clothing with holes. You deserve clothing that doesn't have holes.

Your clothes are meant to fit you, not the other way around. Your body is the thing that carries you through your life. Clothes that don't fit are just scraps of fabric who aren't meeting their performance goals.

Everything is figure out-able. This one also comes from my mom.

Laziness doesn't really exist; it's almost always a response to something else (burnout, low self-esteem, etc).

Being your most authentic self is scary. It's also 100% worth it. Life has gotten better every time I've been even a tiny bit more myself.

There is no timetable for when you should hit certain milestones. You are not behind. You are on your own time.

Femininity means whatever I want it to mean, not what society tells me it means. Everything I do is feminine because I say it is, and no one can tell me otherwise.

Your job doesn't care about you. If you disappeared from the face of the earth, they would replace you immediately. You should bring them the same energy. You're the only one who will look out for you.

Use your PTO. Every damn second of it. When I started my current job, I was told that no one used all of their time off. I do. Every year.

Dieting literally does not work. Scientifically. Reading up on the Minnesota Starvation Experiment, Famine Response, and why BMI is literally sexist, racist bullshit changed my life.

Doctors might be experts in their respective fields, but they are not experts in what it's like to live in your body. Whenever possible, find one who makes you an active participant in your care plan.

Wear whatever the hell you want. Life is too short to worry what other people will think.

Live theatre, good meals, and beautiful tattoos are always worth the money.

Anger isn't inherently bad. Most of the time, it's your signal that something is wrong. This is the most impactful thing my therapist ever taught me as an ex-vangelical who grew up hearing that anger was a sin.

Don't put down the things that bring others joy. If they're not hurting you, themself, or anyone else, why waste your energy?

You cannot miss out on the things that are meant for you. If you miss it, it wasn't meant for you, and you should probably be grateful you missed it.

If I'm too much, go find less.

You are always responsible for your actions. Diagnoses, negative life experiences, and the like might explain bad behavior, but it doesn't excuse it. You are responsible for you.

Your feelings are always valid, but they are not always correct.

Go outside. Every day if you can. Even if it's for 30 seconds. Go get some fresh air on your face and look at a tree. If you can't make it outside, open a window, even just for a minute. Your brain will thank you.

You can leave. Hate the fitness class? Leave. Party too loud? Leave. Doctor not listening? L e a v e. As the famous tumblr post goes, if it sucks, hit da bricks!

You need nothing days. Days where you intentionally do absolutely nothing and feel zero guilt for that. Sit in bed, binge a Netflix show, eat some snacks, and don't think about all the things you're not doing. Let yourself rest, dammit.

#30th post

[kirby-the-gorb]

I just bought myself a manga about the artist going through severe illness and I found it comforting to read someone else's experience, so I thought maybe I would share a little about my experience with MCAS again. so here's all the pills I take!

cromolyn. 2 ampules mixed with water 4x/day (although I'm often out of bed for 12 hours or less and have trouble keeping track of time, so often it's 3x instead). mast cell stabilizer.

multivitamin. I only took this for a week so far and stopped to gather data. (my paranoia was getting bad, which often means I'm reacting to a med. this is a cheap one with many fillers.) meant to make up for difficulty accessing food and possible malabsorption.

fludrocortisone. 2 pills a day. for POTS.

atenolol. 1 per day. also for POTS.

montelukast. 1 per day. technically for asthma, but works by blocking one of the signals the mast cells send.

loratadine (aka claritin). 1 pill 2x/day, which we had to fight the insurance about after a while. antihistamine, meant to prevent anaphylaxis by blocking a different mast cell signal.

aspirin. 2 pills 2x/day. to reduce inflammation and control chronic pain.

whichever oral hormonal birth control my insurance will give me (it varies). 1 per day. menstruation makes my MCAS flare and I still have incomplete cessation even after an ablation, so I keep taking it even when not putting myself at risk of pregnancy.

dye-free diphenhydramine (aka benadryl). another antihistamine, taken when my MCAS flares to reduce or completely end the symptoms. (the pink dye in the regular formulation is actually a very common trigger.)

low-dose prednisone. steroid kept on hand for unavoidably high-demand occasions (like moving across the country) or unshakable prolonged flares (like, a week).

that's 8 pills in the morning, 3-4 at night, 8 ampules in the day, and 2 different emergency meds. plus I try to drink a gatorlyte every day (also good for POTS and certain mineral shortages) and try to avoid triggers (including heat, stress, and overexertion -n- )

3 and 4 were the first meds that ever made me feel any better, before we'd figured out it was MCAS. (likely with secondary POTS/EDS.) 6 and 7 are the first line treatment for MCAS, they're the first medications I actually took *for* it. they are often used in combination with famotidine (aka pepcid) but that made my paranoia super bad so I stopped taking that one.

this was my regimen established before I got covid last july, which made my MCAS much worse, which also made it impossible to get a new doc post-move since I can't physically get to an appt. so this is likely to change once I have medical care again. being sick is a lot of work!

#kirby #daily kirby #my art #digital #hal laboratory #nintendo #chronic illness #mcas #tmi #long post #ask to tag #(the manga was 'I'm a terminal cancer patient but I'm fine' btw) #(I don't have cancer as far as we know! and my illness wouldn't be qualified as terminal!) #(it's a chronic illness that's gotten pretty severe and has the potential to be fatal tho.) #(thebibliosphere has mcas too and she spent much of 2019 at death's door before she finally got knowledgeable care just in time.) #(at least I think it was 2019. I can't remember for sure.) #(anyway 'terminal' is a squishy and suspect category - even the mangaka says in the afterword she's stopped using it) #(cuz at time of publication she'd gone into remission! very exciting for her :> ) #(she did unfortunately pass away a couple months ago but. such is life.) #(it can still be a nice book ending even if it didn't last.) #(also yes. my christmas tree is still up in february. I've Been Very Ill.) #(I've gotten all the ornaments off (over the course of a week) and I just have to take off the colored lights and disassemble it.) #(I've been using it for ambient light in the living room because I was really photosensitive for a few months.) #(it's not as bad now but I still prefer diffuse light for sure.) #favorites

[neurosky]

Good news: first anti-inflammatory med trial is going amazing!! My mood has improved SO MUCH, more energy, and I've been talking to people so easily instead of struggling to communicate. Genuinely one of the best medications I've ever taken.

Upping the dose a bit starting today and starting another anti-inflammatory trial tomorrow, so fingers crossed that goes well 🤞

Getting diagnosed and getting proper treatment is 100% life changing

#Still got a long way to go #And I know I'll definitiely run into more side effects #But things are going well despite it all #sky's pans journey #pandas/pans #pans syndrome #actually chronically ill #chronically ill #chronic illness

[look-at-the-soul]

Congrats on 500 followers honey! I wanted to ask you if you'd like to write something fluffy about cillian comforting y/n bc theyre having a migraine. I'm sure you'll do an amazing job on this!!! 🥂to more followers in the future 💕

Ange!!

Thank you so much for sending this lovely idea! I read a lot about migraines and now I just want to hug whoever gets one 🥺 I’ve never had one, but recently I felt terrible and I’m sure Cill would make us all feel better.

This one goes for everyone who is sick, especially the ones dealing with a migraine. 💖

🌷A/N: I’m not doctor, nor I have experience with migraines, what I portray here might not work for everyone.

Put your arms around me

Cillian Murphy x reader (with migraine)

Baby I took over your basement for the day. Don’t come in unless the house is burning down, or something bad happens to Scout. Everything you need is right in front of you, or behind what’s in front of you. Love you. ♥️

Cillian left the note on the table and his keys on top of it. Y/N must have gotten yet another migraine.

They’ve tried every single remedy out there and nothing seemed to work, she even went to the hospital once to get stronger meds and monitoring for a day, but it only made her feel worse.

He now knew a migraine isn’t just a headache, it isn’t an excuse to have a day off, and it tore him apart to see the woman he loves suffering, it made him feel useless.

So he went to disconnect the telephone, the front door buzzer and let Scout out to the garden. Then he carefully took a cooking pot, filled it with water and took the pasta out of the bag, making sure he didn’t close any of the cabinets loudly, knowing she could hear every noise ten times the original sound. While the pasta was cooking, he mixed the rest of the ingredients in a bowl, they weren’t sure yet if cheese was a food that triggered the migraines so he changed his recipe a little bit and made the macaroni and cheese without cheese, instead he prepared a special cream full of avocado and spinach both approved by your doctor that provided a good amount of natural magnesium that helped you.

The salmon looked good in the grill and the smell was amazing.

He also cut some dark chocolate bars to give you as snack later, in the right dose, it was so helpful with the migraines too.

Walking down the stairs he opened the door to the basement slowly. Balancing the tray against his body he was proud he managed to make it to the spot where you were hiding under his hoodie with your sleeping mask on, your pillow on the floor, the room in total darkness.

Touching your leg gently to let you know he was near, you managed to crack a small smile.

“Hi.” You mouthed, your world lighting up as Cillian smiled at you, taking his place on the floor next you.

“Hello.” He mouthed back.

Reading lips was the perfect way to communicate while the migraines lasted.

Sometimes you didn’t even need words, just one look and you could see every feeling, every little thing he wanted to say, his eyes weren’t just beautiful and breathtaking, they also showed what was inside of him.

“Brought you some food.” He whispered.

As you were about to say you weren’t hungry, he gave you the look and you closed your mouth, accepting the plastic plate and fork, because the regular ones made so much noise for you to take at the moment.

Everything hurt; the light, the sound the steps makes against the floor, a car honking, sometimes you had vertigo, others you could see blind spots, or have nausea… sometimes however, it was all mixed at once. And all of that also caused you to feel anxious for not being able to control any of that.

But right now, Cillian was the best medicine you could have. He was just so thoughtful, it meant everything to you that he was now used to every single little thing that made you feel better, like not using his shoes around, so he just walked in wearing his colored socks, small things that actually meant everything. Helping you into a seating position, you started to eat the salmon and the pasta he made for you. It was incredible that you couldn’t even stand crunchy food, but the most amazing thing, is that Cillian knew everything by now about it, not like the first time you got a migraine with him and he was using the blender to make a smoothie, killing you for days and feeling guilty about it once he found out.

Cupping his face in your hands you touched his lips with a finger, announcing you were going to kiss him so he wouldn’t be surprised or kiss you back making a loud kiss noise.

Approaching him, your lips found his, feeling how incredible it was to have someone who understood what you were going through. Feeling his kiss back, you also felt his fingers pressing at the base of your skull for a few seconds, a point that might help to get rid of the migraine.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Just put your arms around me, Cill.”

While your arms found their way around his body, he lifted up the hood to cover half of your face, then he wrapped you in his arms.

Feeling a little better after you ate, a sigh escaped your lips.

“Have some sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.” He whispered softly while rocking your body from side to side.

Cillian was giving you so much more than he could even imagine, by just putting his arms around you.

****

You can send yours here

Tag list:

@lyarr24 @datewithgianni @gretelshelby @cloudofdisney @peaky-cillian @onlydeadcells @holacia2 @shelbydelrey @lespendy

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #Cillian murphy blurb

[halibellecter]

An Ounce of Prevention

--

It's flu season on base. Doc didn't really care about it, O'Malley even less so, but Oklahoma is a bit more invasive pushy overbearing stubborn infuriating thorough about preventive care, so on a rotating schedule at both bases, everyone's been shot.

She had put off her own dose until everyone else was out of the woods with their side effects; this new strain that's capable of infecting aliens and humans is so virulent and tenacious that the shot itself is nearly as bad as the sickness, albeit in a controlled environment and for days instead of weeks/months/the rest of the patient's very short and miserable life. It's... well... it's bad.

Out of the collected sim troops, mercenaries, and fellow Freelancers on both bases, she's had ten people faint, four of them with no history of syncope, five or maybe six-- she doesn't know how to count the AI version-- cases of severe nausea and vomiting, and upwards of a dozen severe fevers that set off biochip alarms and even got them a call from Command to ask if they needed to send someone from Recovery. The offer was appreciated, but ultimately declined, as the agent in question was being hosed down in a cold shower and given as many antipyretics as safely possible. You're not supposed to take them for a post-vaccine fever, but at this point, knocking down his immune response by reducing the fever was a smaller concern than the hundred and fourteen degree temporal artery reading and the possibility of severe brain damage. (Wyoming is fine, but his accent appears to have boiled off.)

Add in to that the migraines, regular headaches, bad-but-not-severe fevers (miserable anyway), and general malaise, and it's a really good thing the only threats to look out for in Blood Gulch are the guys on the other team. She's started more IVs and given more fluids and meds in the past week than in a month of typical missions. And yesterday, she finished out treatment for everyone else, did another round of checkups to make absolutely sure everyone was in great shape, then double checked again to be safe. Late that evening, in the medbay, she shot herself.

She can vaguely remember thinking, huh. That wasn't so bad. But then for most people it started after a few---

It was close to three AM when she woke up in the floor, dazed and dizzy, ears ringing. Groaning, she set her alarm and curled back up, face against the blessedly cool tile floor. Not sanitary, but she was a little too feverish to care.

Two hours later, at zero five hundred, the alarm went off, dragging OK out of a fever dream that may eventually require trauma therapy. She managed to get out of the floor, cleaned up, changed, and settled at her desk, but there's no energy left for anything else. Sounds are muffled as if they're underwater, overlaid with echoing ringing. It feels like her bones are melting. But as long as no one needs her, and no one gets sick, and there's no reason for her to have to move, talk, think, or breathe, she'll be fine.

#rvb #it's an rp pitch but I'm posting it as a fic snippet because shame who? #agent oklahoma #based on real life events #i feel like i've been hit by a truck ughhhhhh #rvb whump

[sanini-panini]

can't stop thinking about the fact that one of the patients i saw at our student-run HRT clinic straight up lied to me yesterday. he told me he was happy with his dose--and i almost believed him, because the records from his last two clinic visits didn't note any dissatisfaction. turns out he lied because we'd made him feel so ignored at previous appointments that he just. assumed i'd ignore him too. and the whole thing made me think a little (a lot).

so this patient actually did want to go up on his T dose, but his blood pressure has been consistently high at our clinic, and that's a soft contraindication. and instead of doing anything about it, we did the classic "diet and exercise and come back later" thing which is just. fucked up. so he didn't bring up any of this bc he didn't want to be preached to all over again. he'd just given up on the idea of ever increasing his dose.

the records from the last two clinic visits noted an "anxiety about blood pressure." it didn't mention any of this.

the only reason i got any of this information is bc the patient's partner was in the room, and i saw her in clinic a couple months ago and helped her through some pretty complicated shit that other providers had previously dismissed. i'd mentioned back then that i thought weight loss was bullshit as a treatment approach. so she trusted me to actually listen.

which was all well and good but with the blood pressure measurements i had on hand, i couldn't actually increase his T dose, and the patient was adamant about not wanting to start blood pressure meds, and when i staffed with the faculty i was like "i am so lost here" and then he asked me a question.

we're not fixing anything today. what can we do to get this patient to his goal in the future?

and i just. hadn't thought of that at all. i was so focused on the fact that i couldn't give the patient the dose increase he wanted today that i forgot that there was. a next visit. and a next one. and i knew that the blood pressure data i had wasn't accurate (poorly sized cuff, anxiety over a stressful appointment, and research shows that office measurements are inaccurate overall) but i hadn't really thought about the fact that getting more accurate data could change things in the future.

it still felt kinda bad to send them home empty-handed, but i think he felt better about using home blood pressure monitoring to give him some ammunition to advocate for himself next time. and i don’t think i handled the situation perfectly by any means but i must've done something right bc on their way out, they asked me whether i was planning to practice in [insert city i live in rn] when i graduate so they could look me up and i almost cried

#sajani talks #clinical reminders