#i need to get checked for pcos like my mom says because there's like no fuvking way this is normal

[indiangp]

I think atp I have to learn to live w the fact I'll be stuck this way fr

[shego1142]

Okay so… can someone explain doctors to me like I’m a very small very scared and very hurt child?

So like… I was 11 or 12 when my family lost what I would call our “good insurance” and we had to switch to the “doctors suddenly don’t care about you” insurance due to my dad becoming disabled and us no longer having a two person income household.

We switched from me seeing a group of caring children’s doctors to me seeing an adult’s general practitioner that only saw me about once a year or less, and largely dismissed every issue I had.

I began getting migraines at 10 that increased in frequency and severity and I was told it was “because I’d start my period soon”

I had an eye test done that came back with concerning spots of missing vision in my peripheral when I was about 13 or so and I was entirely dismissed, but the doctor did ask me if I wanted to be institutionalised when I tried to quietly and privately ask about depression symptoms.

To which I began crying btw, you know, because I was a 13 year old undiagnosed autistic child.

I saw this group of doctors for things like school vaccinations, about once a year or less, ans largely I didn’t see them for anything else and I got used to hiding my symptoms and illnesses.

When I was 16 my stomach began hurting so bad in a radial pain, I went to them 3 times in the span of two weeks, telling them that I swore my stomach was hurting horribly, like real pain not just acid reflux. They prescribed omeprazole, an acid reflux medicine, and nothing else. They refused to order any tests.

I got to where I was in so much pain, crying and pulling my hair out, I felt like i couldn’t breathe and I woke my mom up and begged her to take me to the hospital because I thought I was dying at 16. And I probably would’ve, because my gallbladder would have ruptured. I ended up having to have emergency surgery, also I threw up on the hospital nurse and was so apologetic for being sick that she almost cried.

When I was 20 something I wanted to talk to those same doctors about my migraines, they’d gotten even worse than before and that is saying a lot. The same doctor who didn’t bother to check if I was having a medical emergency when my gallbladder was shutting down straight up just told me I was lying for medicine, without even looking at any of my tests prior, and yelled at me and tried to take my cane, which had become something I found really helped with all the pain I felt, away from me.

I didn’t even ask about a pain medication, I was asking about migraine preventatives.

I left that doctor’s office that I had gone to since I was 12 and never went back.

Anyway, nowadays, the closest doctor’s clinic keeps telling me that I can’t have a physical check up if there’s something specific I want the doctor to see me about?

And I have multiple chronic conditions, so there’s literally always something specific that needs to be addressed, but then it’s like they only want to focus on one thing, when it’s multiple issues that need attention?

Like… how tf do you find a doctor that can really help? How do you even start?

Also, the doctor’s office closest to me refuses to let anyone go with me, which is terrifying given that I’ve been yelled at by doctors for asking questions??

They basically always try to convince me that it’ll be just fine but then, due to my slow processing process speed because you know, autism, a day or two after the fact ill realise that them saying:

“Idk, you might have pcos, call us in four months!”

Is probably not the best way to talk to a patient…

I just… I don’t know what to do or how to get a good doctor, and I thought your general practitioner was the one who was supposed to have a general idea regarding everything that’s going on with your health, like you know, be informed of it, and then they would be able to recommend other doctors who can help you with the specific issues.

It seems to me that general practitioner means that you shouldn’t bring up anything worse than a cough or a sore throat or they get mad at you.

Idk… I just woke up today with a lot of pain and I think what is neuropathy (my arms keep going numb I’m assuming that’s what is causing it) and I just… wish I could find a doctor who actually understands what is happening and gives a damn…

I live in North Georgia, and I’m more than willing to travel… if anyone out there knows of a doctor or something… let me know

[randomisemily]

So, I’m a new mom.

Writing this on this blog, I can’t believe it. But this blog has been my rant blog for years and years. And it still is. Even when years have passed, crazy.

So yes, new mom. My baby girl is three weeks old tomorrow. And the reason I need to rant is because of my issues with breastfeeding.

My breastfeeding journey is short. But I love long stories, so I’ll start with the baby making process. No, it’s not that kind of blog. I mean, the journey. Because that was, in fact, quite a journey as well.

Before Covid, my husband and I got engaged. We were ready for marriage and after that, kids. I’m not “traditional” in the sense that I needed to be married before getting kids, it just made more sense to me. Practically, I wanted a typical big wedding and I knew I didn’t have planning skills (etc…) to put together a wedding while having a baby already. So, wedding first. Then babies!

We set the date in August 2020. But yes, Covid came along and yes, we had to postpone, at least, the party. We did actually get married that day. With 14 people in total to witness it.

We needed to wait to throw the party until the end of september 2021. Baby fever, however, did not wait.

The wedding finally happened and I threw out birth control as fast as I could. I even went to the doctor for a check up, right before the wedding. Forget getting my nails done, what’s up with my uterus?!

Trying to conceive, I quickly learned, is a whole thing in itself. Tracking your cycle. Finding your ovulation. And so forth. But I did it. And came to the conclusion: this is hard! I quickly became obsessed with my ovulation and trying to figure out the timing. After a few months of obsessively trying to conceive, I really felt like something was off. My cycle. What a long cycle did I have. For people who don’t know, on average a cycle is 28 days. Mine was often 35 days or longer. WEIRD.

Fast forward a few months and in April-May of 2022, I needed to put a hold on conceiving because of gall bladder surgery. I had known about this surgery since February, so it didn’t make sense for me to try and conceive for a few months. Bummer!

After the surgery, I went to see my OBGYN. It was about damn time there was a baby in my belly, I figured.

PCOS. That is what I have. And that’s why I couldn’t conceive. I was heartbroken. Sure, it wasn’t severe. But the future was so uncertain. Will I ever be a mom?! (If you read the first line of this long ass rant, you’ll know that I will).

There was a solution, however. Pills and check-up. It’s really not hard, if I look back at it. It’s not IVF, or anything. But oh god, it was still really tough. You take the pills. You wait. You go for check-ups, get your blood drawn, get the results and you have intercourse whenever THEY say you should. And then… you wait once more. Ha, what a joy. So, first cycle, nothing. Not even an egg growing. No ovulation. Just hormones all over the place. 2nd cycle: yes, I ovulated! No baby. Third cycle: A BABY!!! A red line appeared on my (many many many) tests!

What a relief. What a miracle. Incoming: baby on the way at the end of May! (Actually, she came on the first of June)

My pregnancy was smooth AF. First trimester was mostly me, a zombie. Wanting to sleep all day. Barely ever getting sick. One time, I was sick. And I also got the flu. That is all. In fact, I went on a trip to Madrid while 8 weeks pregnant. Had lots of fun and barely any symptoms.

My bump started to grow around 20 weeks. I was so exicted, yet also very insecure. What if people thought I couldn’t poop? That’s what the tiny bump looked like. I felt pregnant. I had been feeling kicks for a few weeks. But I didn’t look pregnant.

But that’s okay because the bump came around and I enjoyed every day. Even the days with heartburn. And even the ones where I felt like I couldn’t put shoes on anymore or shave my legs (and other parts).

If someone were to ask me to do it all over again, I would. It was wonderful.

I was a week late when I gave birth and I thought I’d get induced. In fact, me and my husband were SURE. So sure that we booked a table at the restaurant we went for dinner to celebrate me being pregnant. Yeahhh, we had to cancel, of course. Stupid us. Labor was fine. Painful. Traumatic. And all that. But fine. I mean, I ended up with a baby. Puked three times and fainted on the toilet seat. But I got a baby!!!!

AND HERE COMES THE BREAST FEEDING PART

So, I had always expressed wanting to breast feed. I don’t know, seems like the normal thing to do. Nine months, my baby had been eating what I was eating. I thought I wanted to continue. And create that bond.

From the start, though, it was painful. My nipples were bleeding. And by the time I left the hospital, I was almost scared to let my baby near my boobs. Here is the thing: I was informed. Breastfeeding didn’t have secrets for me. So I thought. Nobody tells you that your 3 day old baby can cause blood gushing from your nipples. A midwife told me: “you think she has teeth, right?” Jokingly, ha ha ha. Yes, she seems to be a vampire. That’s for sure.

The first day home, she didn’t want to eat. The 7 AM feedtime turned into the 1 PM feed time. The hours in between, screaming and crying. And not just her.

With a lot of help from my midwife, she finally had her breakfast and lunch. And we found a solution for the pain, as well as why she wouldn’t want to eat, etc.

The weekend came around and the midwife weighed my baby. She gained weight! Yaay!

Come Tuesday, she had lost a massive amount of weight. I was in shock. What the actual???

Breastfeeding hadn’t been going great. She wasn’t the best at it, I wasn’t the best at it. But it had been going, you know? Yet, she didn’t gain weight. She dropped weight. My tiny baby was losing weight and she didn’t have a cute thick belly but you could see her ribs. Man, I cried.

The next few days were terrifying. We decided to add formula to her feeding schedule, so she’d gain the weight. And she finally did. But the breastfeeding was getting tougher and tougher. At a certain point, I breast fed her for 20+ minutes, my husband gave her a bottle and while he was doing that, I was pumping. That whole ordeal took 45+ minutes and we had to do it all over again every two hours. My husband felt like a washing machine, I felt like a milk cow.

The pumping wasn’t working and my husband had to go back to work so we switched to the combo of breast/formula at the beginning of this week.

Yet, soon enough, she wouldn’t drink anymore. Was I afraid she’d lose the weight again? No, we had formula now. But God, I was TIRED.

And so was my body. I needed to give it a rest. I realized I barely make enough milk for her to get fed once a day. And she needs it 8 times a day.

I am heartbroken and releived at the same time. I needed to learn how to enjoy my baby without the dread of feeding time. And I have. I love her so much. But man, the mom guilt is real. The fact she doesn’t get to taste the food I eat every day. The fact I can’t give her what she needs now that she’s not inside me anymore. It could eat me up. But, I’m writing it off. She’s thriving on formula. Her belly is full every day. And she’s happy. I’m letting it go.

And I can’t wait to tell her how her first three weeks of her life were like. 🥰

The truth about breastfeeding is, it’s hard. It can be wonderful. I wholeheartly believe that. I do. I always will. But for me, it just wasn’t. I now feed her in a lot less time and, after she’s fed, she sleeps on my belly or in my arms. I don’t know if I’d trade anymore.

I was so informed and had so much help. Which I am so grateful for. But no one prepared me for when breastfeeding just doesn’t work.

You know, come to think of it. The same thing goes for trying to conceive. I was informed and knew all about my cycle. When to try. How to try. But at the end of the day, no one informed me about the devestation of when it doesn’t work.

I guess this is just a rant. But listen, if someone does read this: it’s all worth it. Trying to conceive. Worth it. Pregnancy and labor: worth it. And yes, breastfeeding was worth it as well. If I wouldn’t have tried…. I wouldn’t have known.

And at the end of the day, I love her so much.

[rain-fluff]

Journal Eight

For the past month, my mom has been actively trying to clear out unwanted material possessions that take up space in our home. Granted, it is a nice idea as a means to get rid of clutter but it peeves me that included MY personal clutter as well. I can't say that I can condemn her efforts though, at least she's helping with clean up and would asked if I wanted to keep some things or not.

During the process, my mom stumbled across not only old dolls I used to collect (which are probably really pricey now due to them being discontinued) but also my old drawings from primary and secondary school. It was both a cringey and heart-warming experience seeing how much I've grown in terms of my art skills. I just wish that half of it wasn't so cryptic and edgy but alas that is simple apart of youth that you can never escape from. In way, I'm also quite envious of my past self for having a really strong drive for taking the time to draw that much when in comparison to now, I only wish I could have half as much of that energy. I won't get rid of these regardless because I'm someone who clings to past momentos a lot. I should really keep them away somewhere else though.

In terms of entering the second week of Ramadan, I'm glad I can actually fast this year without it being disrupted by my health complications. I couldn't fast at all last year due to me dealing with my PCOS so at least there's more progression this year. However, I still need to take some pills and lose weight; which is something I've been neglecting for a few months now. My hospital check-ups used to be every other month or so but I felt bad going just because the funds add up and I don't really want to burden my parents financially anymore than I already do. It's difficult since they're both retired so I try to make do where I can and do art commissions where I am able.

Speaking of art commissions, I wish I could give more details of a specific client but I hope they don't comission me ever again. They left a rather distasteful comment that made me regret accepting their money in the first place. I'm still grateful for my other clients who have been patient and kind to me for my work delays however. I really hope they don't request more of my work anytime soon because working on their piece definitely more of a chore than it was enjoyable (ironic how that was the exact reason why I dropped out of art school huh).

Asides from that, my new doll is finally in Malaysia! It's still at my friend's place and I'm a bit broke to deal with shipping at the moment (I'm sorry to say that is like the third entry I preface how broke I am) and I still don't quite have clothes for her yet. It's been hard to find cute clothes that aren't too expensive and my shopee cart looks like a whole catalogue for doll clothes now reaching the 100s. I definitely need to clear out my cart here and there.

Well, it's safe to say that week is tiring and I spent most of my weekend sleeping in my hermit hole. Maybe I'll have more to note in my next entry. Maybe I won't but I hope not truly.

-rain

[dxintysblog]

Hi all! Sorry for the long post, it is worth the read. If anyone feels crazy or overlooked or they feel that something is wrong with them. Please read it. Advocate for yourself and your happiness.

I haven’t been here in a while and I just need to vent.

I have struggled with my weight for my entire life. I grew up dancing and in that environment, a young girls body is the main topic of discussion. I was always the chubby kid, I wasn’t stick thin. I had muscle and curves and an ass and I grew boobs early. My mom started putting me on diets as soon as I started puberty. She did these things because, she too, fought her weight her entire life - my entire life. I think she wanted better for me, and she also used me as her support and reasoning. And like clockwork, she fell off the diet train, pulling me with her. I started heavily restricting. But I could never lose those extra pound that would make me enough by her or my dance teachers.

All these things carried on into my late teenage years. I was sneaking food behind her back and eating pints of icecream and sonic burgers and family sized bags of chips. I hated myself for it, but I craved it. This is about the time I got on birth control.

Now as a young adult, 18-19, my mental health was at an all time low. I don’t remember my first year of college(not because of partying. I hardly left my room) I was so incredibly depressed and lost. I met my now husband and fell in love with him. But I was bouncing between restricting so heavily and binge eating.

Now at 22. I’ve married the love of my life, my mom has died and took my animosity in our relationship with her, I have worked so hard on bettering my self and continuing to fight for my education. And I’ve been steadily gaining weight. I’ve been fighting my cravings and working out, my husband has been a tremendous help in cooking meals at home. He has transformed his body. He lost over 70 LBS and is gaining serious muscle. He is becoming so much more confident in his appearance (granted he has always been incredibly handsome. All while I have been gaining and gaining and gaining.

I mentioned birth control earlier, I spoke to the doctor at my hospital and every year I hate the same complaints. Every year his answer was the same “lose weight and that will help.” He gave me no resources, no referrals, no blood panels, nothing to help me get the proper information that I would need.

When I turned 21, I went to get my first well-woman’s exam (pap smear), and I had a woman NP do the exam on me. I brought up my concerns and my families health issues that bring the concern. She immediately ordered a blood panel. She listened to me and made me feel heard. Thankfully, the panel was normal. But this only pushed the feelings that something else was wrong and I felt crazier.

My first thought was because of my birth control. Maybe thats the issue. So I got off the pill and got an IUD. 4 months later, no change. In my last check up, I finally broke down in tears to my OBGYN. listing off the inability to lose weight. The acne. The thick, black hair that grows on my face and stomach - that I tweeze and wax SERIOUSLY. The fatigue and insomnia combo (which is super fun to be exhausted but I can’t sleep). The irritation. The stress. The absolute hate I have because something is wrong, I know I’m fat, I know I need to fix that. BUT NOTHING WORKS. I cried that I needed help.

The woman sat and listened to every word I said. She made me feel comfortable. Before she examined me, she said she would look over my last blood panel to see what she missed. She looked up a health and weight loss clinic that would help me.

I was formally diagnosed with PCOS. (Polycystic Ovarien Syndrome)

I am not crazy. I am not unhealthy due to my past. It is not completely my fault for my problems. If I didn’t put my foot down and say these things to someone I felt would listen to me, I would still feel this way.

Something was wrong with me and now I can fix it. And I feel like I have some control over my life again.

[peachesandmilktea]

yo my name is chana i'm 18, i'm half israeli and part white with chinese (yeah weird mix ik). i have short curly blonde hair that is constantly in my face with freckles and moles all over my body. my skin tone is a lil dark brownish-yellow. i be around 5'2, but i am pretty buff, i got alotta loose skin from all the weight i've lost tho. don't even get me on all the stretch marks i have from going from fat to beefy. i got broad shoulders and big thighs cuz 💯m u s c l e 💯. ig i got a pretty big rack i think i'm an f cup last time i checked (i've been on estrogen for a while cuz of my PCOS, so they have grown a l o t.) i have green eyes but i'm legit fuckin blind in one 😂.

tbh i'm mostly deaf so i'm pretty fuckin loud without meaning to be, i can read lips tho so that helps me understand ppl. i have a rlly loud laugh and my bestie loves it, so i love it. (even tho i get weird looks from random ppl.) i'm mostly quiet cuz idk how to talk to ppl, ig it's cuz i'm autistic, i do get overstimulated a lot so my mechanism is ✨h i d i n g✨. i will legit hide under a fuckin table in any place if things get to overwhelming. physical touch like hugging or just petting my head will calm me down eventually tho. sometimes i have to be put in a special hold made to calm down ppl with autism.

yelling also triggers me for some reason which i will most likely yell back or rare times. w a l k t f a w a y. i may not stand up for myself but when it comes to my siblings you betcha ass i will die for them hoes. me and my youngest bro be rlly close. like he calls me lion mom. he be doin that shit since he could talk 😭. my ideal date is rlly quality time, i don't give a shit where the date is, as long as they're payin attention to me i'm on cloud nine. my fav song either has to be yellow by Coldplay or creep by Radiohead. i rlly don't have a preference for gender as long as they accept me for who i am, i will love them unconditionally 😤💯.

for the nsfw shit, i mean i never have control in my life so ig i'm a dom??? cuz i feel like i legit have control over some fucking thing. i low key have a breeding kink 😔. i mean i may be a dom but i'm rlly a soft dom i'm pretty vanilla like i love to praise, be praised, and take care of my S/O. yeah i'll let them top if they want to but i will still be in control idgaf.

THIS IS A COMMISSION.

I match you with...

Megumi!

Some would say it's because opposites attract, others would say that Megumi is simply drawn to people who are loud. He doesn't think that's all there is to it, though. As much as he likes hearing you laugh, letting the loud sound of it echo through his ears like the sweetest song he's ever heard, that's but a small raindrop of a reason drowned in the storm of his feelings towards you. Because it does feel like a storm, like a hurricane, a natural disaster that he didn't see coming and that he can't stop now, especially because he doesn't even want to. You complete him in a way he would never have expected before meeting you, and how could he part from you now? The red threat of fate binds you to him, tightening around his heart like a leash, but he doesn't mind it, not when your presence is the only thing that truly makes him feel peaceful in this world. And he'll make sure he's your peace too, soothing you with calm, sweet words whenever you feel overwhelmed, passing his lean fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead until he feels your heartbeat steady under his touch.

Dates with him are simple, but mainly because he doesn't see the need in focusing on anything else but you. Soft, rare, lazy afternoons spent side by side, the taste of your favorite drink on your lips as he kisses you again and again, sweet evenings taking a stroll together as the sun comes down, your hand safely tucked in the warmth of his and his thumb softly stroking your palm, sleepless nights lying next to each other, whispering secrets in the moonlight pouring through an open window. He treasures each second spent by your side and treats you like you're the most precious thing he's ever laid eyes on. And, after all, the only place that feels like home to him is wherever he's with you.

He'll let you take any control you want in the bedroom; the only thing he wishes to do is kneel at your feet and worship the marvel that you are. No matter how strong of a sorcerer he normally is, a shy blush still dusts over his cheeks whenever you praise him, and he's quickly craving for it, yearning for any gentle word that softly falls from your lips. He's so grateful for each one of your touches that make him see a glimpse of heaven, and he'll thank you for them, thank you for your attention, thank you for making him feel so good, thank you for allowing him to breed you and fill you with his cum whenever you make him topple over the edge of yet another too intense orgasm. Thank you, he'll murmur in your ear whenever you're done, brushing a strand of her away from your face, thank you so much.

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Broken

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!reader

Summary: When Rossi makes a comment which upsets the Y/N, Spencer is there to reassure her

Warning: Mentions of rape and murder. Talk about the medical condition Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome. Sadness. Fluff at the end

Words: 1,824

A/N: As someone who has this condition, this a drabble I have always wanted to read. 

Master List HERE!

This last case had been particularly hard for you. You’d gotten your diagnosis three days before you left for California on a case involving an unsub forcing women into pregnancy, only to kill the mother and sell the child. The latest victim to have been found, Amelia Bragg, had been found on in a ditch. She had been raped, repeatedly, but she had not given birth and wasn’t pregnant. However, the signature of the female gender symbol carved onto her hip post-mortem indicated it was the killer you were after.

“Why didn’t she have a child like the others?” JJ asked, looking from the screen where Amelia’s picture was shown to the files in her hands.

“She had a condition which made it difficult to have children… she was ‘broken’” Rossi had replied, glancing at Amelia’s medical records. “PCOS and endometriosis.”

“PCOS? What’s that?” Derek asked, looking towards Reid for an answer.

You jumped in first, not even looking up from the file in front of you, “Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome. Follicles surround the eggs, making ovulation difficult. As such, their periods are irregular, and they struggle with fertility. Women often experience head hair loss, while gaining excess hair in other places, such as their face, due to increased androgen. Also, they can experience increased pain anytime through their menstrual cycle, on their period or not. People with PCOS tend to struggle with their weight, due to the hormones. Also, they’re more than likely to suffer with mental illnesses such as depression or anxiety due to the imbalance of hormones. Endometriosis is where tissue similar to the lining of the room grows in other places, like the ovaries or fallopian tubes. Endometriosis causes a lot of the same problems as PCOS, but it is known to be much more painful.”

 The room is quiet for a moment as the team takes in your words. You don’t look up, you can’t look up. Rossi’s words had hurt you and you couldn’t help but answer before Reid. It was a subject you had knowledge in, you had done for a while. You best friend, Jamie, had endometriosis and you had done your research after her diagnosis in an effort to support her.

 “How do you know that, Y/N?” Derek questioned, his voice gentle as he realised you might have experience with the conditions.

You shrugged ad remained silent for a moment. You didn’t really want to tell them all. Sure, they’re your friends, family even, but did you want all of them knowing this? Finally, you settled on a half-truth, “I know people with the condition, so I learned about it.”

 You’d caught the unsub in the end, but not before another girl had been kidnapped. Thankfully, the team had gotten to the house, and then into the underground ‘lair’ before she was raped. It was horrific done there. It was dark and with the mass of six women, all in various stages of pregnancy, crammed into the small space, it was dirty and humid.

 The women had been sent to the hospital for a check-up and the unsub taken to the police station to be processed. With the case complete, Hotch decided to postpone the flight home until the morning, saying everyone deserved a night of rest.

 And that was how you found yourself sitting on your motel bed, arm around your knees, as you cried.

 You’d been having troubles for a while now. Your periods were irregular, only having one every few months, and yet you often walked around with pain low in your belly and back. You often had to wax your upper lip, while you often lost long strands of your hair. Your moods swung, and your weight was a like a seesaw.

 You’d went through this for more than a year before you went to the doctors. They’d listen to your symptoms before ordering a thorough blood test which came back with results saying you had excess hormones. This wasn’t enough for a diagnosis, and your doctor had sent you for an ultrasound.

 And there they were. Little follicles surrounding your ovaries. There was your answer, you had PCOS. You’d been fine with the diagnosis. You had friends with the same condition, and you knew the ins-and-outs of it. However, what Rossi had said really got to you. In that one instance, your entire mental approach changed and your mind told you that your body was broken. That you were broken.

 And that hurt.

 PCOS was currently incurable. Medication could be taken to help the symptoms, but there was nothing to stop them. When you wanted a child, you could take medication which may help to be able to conceive but there was no guarantee that you would become pregnant. You were broken. The one thing you were designed for, as a woman, was something you couldn’t do. You were a woman, you were meant to bare children. Yes, you’d never through about having children before but now the choice had been taken from you.

 There was a knock at the door. You held your breath, keeping the sobs back. There was another knock. A moment passed before the knock sounded again.

 “Y/N, open up… please, I know you’re in there” Spencer begged, knocking on the door again. “Please, just let me in.”

 Out of everyone on the team, Spencer was who you were closest to. When you had first joined the BAU, he had helped you with your paperwork. He knew you weren’t a huge fan of clubbing, so while the rest of the team went for drinks, he invited you to go with him to his favourite café. You’d get together every week to watch the newest episode of Doctor Who and when the season ended, you would just watch reruns. Spencer was the one you had warmed up to first, and he was still the person you’d consider as your closest friend.

 Knowing that Spencer wouldn’t go away, you pushed yourself to your feet. You opened the door enough for him to squeeze through and quickly closed it behind him. Spencer entered the little room, moving to drop the armful of snacks on the bed before turning around to you.

 He didn’t speak, just opened his arm. A fresh wave of tears burst forth and you rushed into his arm, burying your face in his chest and letting the tears fall. His arms wrapped around you securely, holding you to his chest tightly. His chin rested on your head as he held you to him, his thumb rubbing over the top of your arm where his arms wrapped around you.

 After a few minutes, you calmed down, your snobs turning to quiet sniffles. He gently released you but took your hand, leading you over to the bed. You climbed on, grabbing a packet of gummy bears before you curled in his side.

 “So,” he started. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

You wiped your hand under your eyes, getting rid of another tear. “You remember that I told you I hadn’t been feeling to great and that I had that appointment at the hospital for some tests? Well, I got the results.”

“I know. PCOS” your head turned so quickly that it took your eyes a moment to catch up and focus on your face. “I know the symptoms of it Y/N, and… I had suspicions. Your knowledge of it confirmed those suspicions. You have much more than just a ‘friend offering support’ knowledge.”

“What Rossi said…” your lips rolled between your teeth and you shook your head, looking away from Spencer. “I wasn’t really bothered at first by the diagnosis but when Rossi said that Amelia was ‘broken’… that hurt. Is that how people see me, how I am, broken?”

“Of course, you’re not broken” Spencer reassured you, pulling you tightly into his side. “Rossi didn’t mean it like that. He meant it as broken for the unsub, in the unsubs mind.”

“I know how he meant it” you assured him. “Its just… I can’t help but feel like people will think I’m broken. And who would want a broken girlfriend, or wife? I’ll have these mood changes, weight problem, hair troubles for the rest of my life. And I’ll struggle to have a child too… Who would want someone like me?”

 A firm hand grasped your chin and turned your face. Spencer looked at you, his face more serious than you had ever seen it. His jaw was set and his eyes held such an intensity, that you struggled to make eye contact.

 “Who wouldn’t want someone like you? You’re amazing” he reassured you, his voice firm and full of sincerity. “You’re kind, funny, smart, a little too sassy at time, generous and…and gorgeous. You’re amazing. You helped me find a place for my mom, you bring me my favourite coffee and a doughnut every time I’m sad. You drive me to and from work because you know I hate to drive. You are amazing. Your mood changes? Everyone’s moods fluctuate, yours maybe a bit more than others, but that doesn’t matter. Your weight? Y/N, you’re perfect. And your hair? That shouldn’t matter to anyone because its not about what you look like, its about who you are. There is nothing saying you won’t be able to get pregnant. Yes, it’ll take longer and you made need help but still, it can happen. And if it doesn’t, there are other options. Like surrogacy or adoptions. And that’s even if you want kinds. You don’t have to have them. And the man you’re with should accept all of these things because they are what make you you. And you are amazing, you’re perfect. If they can’t accept you as you are, this perfect person, then they don’t deserve someone as amazingly brilliant as you.”

 Your heartbeat wildly in your chest as you stared at Spencer. Your eyes prickled with tears again, but this time, they were in awe of the beautiful things he’d said about you. The way he spoke about you… you felt warm inside, you felt appreciated, cared for… you felt loved.

 Your hand lifted to cup his face and your thumb traced his cheekbone. His eyes were soft as they met yours, the light brown orbs full of warmth. Your eyes trailed to his films, his prefect lips, and slowly, you leaned in. He met you halfway, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss.

 The kiss was soft and gentle. His hand trailed from your chin to the back of your neck, tilting your head to allow him better access to your mouth. You sighed into the kiss, the warmth in your heart all consuming.

 Slowly, he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes meeting yours again. “Y/N, you’re prefect and… I…I love you.”

You smiled at him. “I love you too.”

You pulled him towards you to kiss him again.

[turnthepage11]

tw: medical discussion, mention of prescription drug use

Personal Post: Appreciate any words of encouragement but honestly just trying to throw my thoughts out to the universe.

I’m struggling so hard right now folks. For context: I am 25. I have a lot of medical issues, rheumatoid arthritis, IBS, ADHD, PCOS. And those are just my long term diseases. When I turned 18 I started having hip pain on my left side accompanied by numbness. I had assumed it was my newly diagnosed arthritis and dismissed it for a few years. Almost three years ago, I finally brought it up to my doctor and long story short, we learned I had a hip impingement which is when there is extra bone on the ball of my hip, making it hurt to walk.

I had surgery last summer for it and while they were in my body, they learned I had a pretty bad labrum tear (on a scale of 1-4, I had a 3) and they fixed it when they removed the extra bone because even though it was decently bad, it never showed up on any of my scans.

Now my surgery didn’t really fix any of my hip problems. My base level of pain was lower, but with any activity it gets pretty high, pretty quickly. (That was context, let’s get to the past 36 hours).

On Friday afternoon, I went to go sit down in my desk chair at school (you know, nothing wild) and as I sit, I felt and heard a loud POP in the front side of my left hip. I yelled so loud, one of the kids who had passed my room a few seconds prior ran back to check on me (one of my sophomores, aka my og crew from year 1).

I stood up immediately and it felt like a muscle had just cramped so I tried walking it off. Sitting hurt the most, followed by standing, then walking so I walked for thirty minutes with a pretty severe limp, hoping that it would slowly go away the more I used it.

It got a little better, not much and then I had to sit for two hours to tutor two students who were on quarantine. Then I had my hour drive home where I turned on my heated seats since usually the heat helps my hip.

Well. It made my lower back hurt INSANELY bad (when it hadn’t hurt previously. Or at least less than my hip had so I hadn’t noticed it). When I got home from my hour commute, I could barely walk and carry my backpack into the house, let alone get up the three steps into my parents’ house.

I took leftover Percocet from my surgery last summer to help with the pain Friday night and it took my 8 pain level down to a 5 and I finally managed to fall asleep.

This morning I woke up and my limp wasn’t as bad, but my hip still hurt and so did my lower back and I was at a 7 on the pain scale. Despite that, I went to breakfast with my family and took another Percocet just so I could see how I would feel around 3 when it wore off since my RA is usually pretty bad in the morning too but calms down by 12 or so and I didn’t want to be worn down from my RA pain and my injury. Even with the Percocet, I was still at 4/5 all morning.

I ended up falling asleep around 11:45 because I don’t sleep too much during the week combined with the med and woke up at 3 at a 7 on the pain scale. I asked my best friend who is a BSN if I needed to go to the ER taking all the above in consideration and the fact that the Percocet didn’t do too terribly much for my pain and she told me I needed to go asap ESPECIALLY because it was my surgery hip.

So I went to my rinky dink rural medicine hospital. They put me in a room for two hours and forgot about me until the doctor finally saw me on his list, came and saw me and said “I don’t know why the hell they put you in this room when I need you in a bed to test your range of motion.” (I was in an old closet with a phlebotomy chair.)

He did range of motion in my hip. Not the worse I’ve ever had but not great either. Said he felt how swollen I was in my hip and thought I might have retorn my labrum or even had one of the strings repairing my labrum last year break. The only thing he could do was a CT, not an MRI, to see if my hip or one of my vertabrae had came out of place. Luckily they hadn’t (though at this point I almost wish they had. It might have been an easier fix.)

He recommended I take three days off of work, go on crutches, and take it easy. I’m a middle/high school English teacher who is semestered by double periods. Missing three days of work is like missing six class days. I barely wanted crutches, I’ve walked like this for a day, how are crutches gonna help? But then I got a steroid shot and it made the pain a solid 8. The doctor kept checking on me and saw me crying so he gave me a shot of morphine and I told him I changed my mind, I wanted the crutches.

I’m hopeful that in the morning I’ll feel at least marginally better. I don’t think I will, but I’m gonna hope for it at least. He gave me steroids, Percocet for the week (which I’ll only be able to take at night because obviously I can’t teach kids while having Percocet in me), and anti nausea meds just in case. But I have to call my doctor who did the surgery for a follow up… which wouldn’t be bad except he’s four hours away. And he’s probably going to request the special MRI I got to confirm I needed surgery. Which I can only get done down where he practices. So that’s two sick days gone right there.

God forbid I actually need surgery to fix a tear FROM SITTING DOWN IN A FUCKING CHAIR. I’ll use all my sick time right there. (I only have 20 days and 3 personal. I take sick days for appointments often because of my specialist appointments and my work bestie is getting married on a Sunday in May so I’m taking a personal day for the following day.) I told my work bestie that the doctor wanted me to take three days off and she said to do it, I had the time and when I pointed out the potential for surgery, she cringed and agreed with what I said about sticking it out for the next three days.

And to top it all off, my parents are acting like I’m over exaggerating. I asked my mom to take my car and drop me off because my legs had started to go weak (which was the entire reason I went to the ER and not the pain. Because I assumed something had happened to my back for my legs to go weak.) She refused, so I drove myself. Was going to drive myself home until the doctor gave me a morphine shot. When I got in the car complaining about my hip, starting to cry about the recommendations, my dad just told me “that’s life kid, deal with it.”

I don’t feel comfortable unloading this on my coworker friends because I know this is a lot. But I’m just so… disappointed. I have lost thirty pounds this year, a major goal of my doctors but never really pushed. Got better at taking my medicine (thank you ADHD diagnosis and medication). But like, I am 25 and might have to have hip surgery… again. And my doctor had said if he had to go in again there was a high chance I would have to get a hip replacement because any additional repairs might be hard with how much damage I had done to my labrum already.

I’m tired, my body is exhausted, I’m already dreading the outcome and time off I’m going to be taking over the next month because of this. I’m annoyed by my parents’ reaction to the whole thing. I’m dreading work this week because I know everyone is going to say something about me being in crutches.

This just sucks folks. I was having such an okay school year until this decided to say “nah, sucks to be you.”

[bi-rising]

hey I just saw your post about PCOS being a hormonal issue not a gyno one while I was surfing the tag. I was diagnosed a couple months back and all my gyno did was a 2 min ultrasound and then prescribed me birth control. I would like to have actual help and more info on it but I'm not sure who I'm supposed to go to for that. Seeing as you were in a similar situation I'd appreciate your help.

seems like gynos really suck with pcos, don't they? 🥴 warning you now, this is going to be a very long post, because i'm essentially writing out absolutely everything i did and everything i've learned, so strap in for a ride aldksfjasldf

the first thing to do is research, research, research. i spent a whole week constantly on pcos websites (such as pcosaa and this article, tho fair warning, the article does use academic speech so it might not be the easiest thing to read) and watching videos and doing what i could to inform myself. the way you can know if you're looking at a credible resource is how the source defines pcos: does it pose it as a reproductive system disorder? or an endocrine (hormonal) disorder? if it talks about it as a reproductive system disorder, then it's probably wrong.

please note that i am not, obviously, a medical professional, but this is how i understand pcos works. i'll use me as an example just so i can use first person perspective, but it applies to pcos patients in general.

so, my cells are insulin resistant. that means that when i eat, my body releases, lets say, 100 (x measurement) of insulin. because my cells are insulin resistant, they say "hey, i'm only gonna use 50x of that insulin". but they still NEED that 100x to function. so my body releases ANOTHER 100x of insulin, so my cells go "ok i'll take 50x" and so while my cells now have the 100x they're supposed, to i now have 100x insulin floating around.

that extra insulin not only wreaks havoc on many systems of the body, it is the reason why most people with pcos that goes untreated end up with type 2 diabetes. the extra insulin is also converted (or spurs the creation of? i'm not entirely certain on the how here) into testosterone and other androgen (male) hormones. so your body has too much insulin, and now it has too much testosterone, too. that extra testosterone is what fucks with your reproductive system and prevents the follicles on your ovaries from maturing (which is what the 'cysts' are). it also often creates increased facial hair, acne (especially on the 'beard line'), and worse body odor. between the testosterone and the insulin, it's nigh impossible to lose weight.

also note that because your body has to release more insulin for your cells to get an adequate amount, you likely crave carbs and sugars (salty/crunchy things and sweets), and you're likely frequently fatigued, bc your body isn't, well, working correctly and it's taking more energy to perform basic functions.

secondly, take all this information that you know to your doctor. i legitimately wrote down some notes about this process in a little notebook and took it with me so that i wouldn't forget/get too anxious to bring any of it up. i also wrote down the things i had been doing to help up to that point (working out, what my diet was, etc etc) and what i was concerned about. lastly, i also wrote down what medications and supplements i had heard of in my research to see what my doctor thought of them.

my doctor's first 'attack' choice is ozempic--it's a weekly shot that helps to regulate insulin levels and also is pretty good at helping weight loss. be aware though that most commercial insurances don't pay for this, but if your doctor is good, they'll try to work around that so that you're not paying a frankly outrageous amount for it. also look out for sometime this fall, my doc said that the ozempic manufacturers are trying to get ozempic approved for weight loss (it's approved for other things) and that should help bring the price down?? anyway, that's my doc's preferred method, but because of my finances, we currently can't do that.

his second attack, which i'm now on, is metformin. it's a medication mostly used for diabetics that helps with blood sugar levels which, again, is that insulin issue. my mom has been on it for 14 years bc diabetes runs in our family anyway, so it's perfectly safe for long time use and definitely helps with keeping either away from or within the pre-diabetes phase. again, i've only been on it now two days so i can't say anything for me but we'll see how it goes lmao

he also approved of me using omega 3 (fish pills) supplements because they help balance things out in general, not just pcos, and he was good with me using spearmint, too. i'm starting out on one cup of spearmint tea a day and see how that effects me, but i've heard of people having up to two spearmint supplement pills and a cup of spearmint tea a day, too. spearmint is a 'defense', as far as i can explain it: it has (tho limited) research that it lowers the testosterone levels in women with pcos. so while it doesn't help with the insulin so it doesn't attack the source, it can help with the testosterone aspect, aka facial hair, acne, etc. i've also heard of cinnamon supplements and inositol supplements helping, but i didn't get a chance to ask about either of those from my doctor, so make sure if you want to give those a try, you talk about them and make sure they won't interfere with any of your other medications and get your doctor's approval on them, first.

thirdly, ask about what else you can do to help yourself. my doctor stressed the importance of a proper night's sleep, as well as advised to try to cut back on carbs and sugars (IMPORTANT NOTE: some people claim that you HAVE to be on a keto diet to get results with pcos. WRONG. please don't do this. keto diets are entirely unsustainable. and cutting back on carbs and sugars does not mean cutting them OUT, it just means if you want a snack, try reaching for a protein or a vegetable instead of a carb. but don't limit yourself!! please, be conscious about what you eat, and remember that sometimes yeah, a slice of cake or a serving of chips isn't going to kill you or set your pcos back. don't risk getting an e.d. just for the sake of your pcos). he also told me that the best exercise that i personally should do is either HIIT exercises or cardio, and to do at least an hour a day, even if it's 30 mins in the morning, 30 in the evening--and to work up to that so even doing ten minutes a day, then increasing it from there, is healthier and better than jumping straight into a whole ass hour. he also told me to aim for a certain heartrate. i don't remember the formula he used, but for me at 22 (based on age) he wanted me to try to aim for 150-160 bpm. again, especially with exercise, that was what he recommended for me. you're likely different from me, so ask your doctor and see what he says.

fourthly, and perhaps most importantly, DON'T BOTHER WITH A GYNO. all of this that i've gotten done for me was from my family doctor, so just the guy i go to for yearly check ups. see if you can do some routine blood work to give him (or her) as wide of a picture as possible, and then go in and talk with a regular doctor about this. a friend of mine also has a friend who actually goes to an endocrinologist to get her pcos sorted out, so that's also an option. gynos seem to just treat the symptoms; birth control gives you a regular period by helping with your estrogen, but that doesn't decrease your testosterone OR do anything with the insulin. my doc is keeping me on birth control pills just so that i have a regular cycle so we can watch and see if anything else happens to it, so it's okay to stay on the birth control, but ultimately, birth control pills don't do anything for pcos.

i know it's difficult and probably kinda scary/anxiety inducing if you're younger or just have anxiety, but you've gotta advocate for yourself in this case. you have to show the doctor that you know what you're talking about and that you're able to call him out on his bullshit if he doesn't take you seriously. also, if your doctor is helpful, don't be afraid to be frank with him about what your gyno did. like i've said with my experience, i got the validation of knowing that my gyno was wrong by explaining to my doctor how he treated me. you deserve better than what your gyno did, and you deserve to actually be treated as a person and your disorder be taken seriously.

i'm wishing you the best of luck, and i hope that you'll be able to get the help that you need 💕💕💕

[cynicaldesire]

Since I’m having trouble writing, I’ll just make an update post. Maybe that’ll help me feel better, get some things off my chest.

Not much to get off my chest tho. My husband had a like 2week break and we sat around mostly playing Monster Hunter Rise for the duration.

Shortly before his break, though, I was having chest pain and a toothache. My teeth have looked pretty gnarly and my gums have been receding for a while but language barrier so we’ve been too scared to go to a dentist. But we have to now because I started have Chest Pain.

My husband’s father died from heart failure. So I kept expecting my chest pain to go away so I wouldn’t have to scare him with it. But after like day 4, when the pain hadn’t gone away, I finally broke down and told him about it. He had like 3 days of work, so we agreed that I would be super careful and we lost a lot of sleep, but I checked my heart rate using my phone and tried to take it easy until my husband’s break started. We headed to the big hospital like a block away from the clinic we usually go to just in case my chest pain was serious. We struggle our way through language barriers and I explain my symptoms to the doctor. It was mostly some burning pain at the time. Doctor has me get an ECG and some bloodwork. He tells me the ECG is normal so my actual heart muscle is fine, but the bloodwork says my liver is inflamed in response to something, but it’s not an infection, so he’s gonna prescribe me some NSAIDs and tells me to come back in a week. My husband says that I also have been having some tooth pain. The doctor freezes with a thinky face and says to get my teeth checked and to come back in a week. We ask if he has any suggestions on dentists. He says NOPE! and leaves. We head to checkout and while waiting for them to process my stuff, the doctor stops by checkout also and I’m like Hey. He nods and heads out. We spent a total of like... 4 hours there. Total. For the ECG, the bloodwork, etc.

Go home, take the meds, try to take care of my teeth, get Listerine. Sit around and try to take it easy for a week. We go back, the burning is gone and my teeth have overcome their problem. Doc asks if I’m okay now, I say yeah, seem to be, but now I have random pinchy pains. He says I should come back in a month. Husband and I can’t so the doctor is like Okay well, you’re fine, but if it gets bad again... Come back.

Due to my being broke, uninsured, and having a chronic illness, I do a lot of armchair doctoring on myself. There’s a limit to it, of course, but I try to research my own health issues or treatments after visiting a doctor. I found so much more information on PCOS on sites like fucking Reddit than by going to a doctor for years. So after the doctor told me I was okay, I looked up why I might have chest pain if it wasn’t related to a heart attack or something. And one of the options was a pulled muscle.

I thought back to the week before the chest pain started. Other than the toothache and swollen gums, I had been doing a bunch of exercise. I did a bunch of Ringfit and hip lifts and situps and stuff. And I was like Hm. Did I injure my chest muscle overdoing the Ringfit?

I, of course, informed the parents of all of this. My husband’s mother was informed and I was worried she would be deeply upset because she lost her husband to heart problems. But then both parents were like “You went to the doctor? You have medications? Well you seem to have it under control, so let’s bitch about my problems.” Meanwhile, I’m over here having trouble sleeping because I’m worried I won’t wake up. But okay. When my husband went back to work, I Skype’d with my mother and she seemed more irritated that I had interrupted her evening than happy to talk to me or worried about my Chest Pain. Also my dad has to get up at like 3am, so when I called her, she was worried her getting loud and animated as we do was going to wake him up.

(husband’s mental health doctor struggles and a story about library card nonsense under the cut)

Husband has also been seeking professional help because he believes he has ADHD. He’s been having a lot of problems, mostly mentally and emotionally, and he traced all the issues he’s having to ADHD. So he went to an English-speaking psychiatrist for medication. The shrink said he wanted to treat the anxiety before the ADHD in case anxiety is the only issue. My husband, due to his job, is very good at asking questions, so he asked the doctor how many people he prescribes this medication to. And he said 100% of his patients. Well, the medication didn’t seem to help, so on the followup appointment, the doctor said Oh, you’re just taking too much. My husband was like It’s supposed to reduce my anxiety, but instead it’s making my anxiety worse, it’s giving me mood swings, and generally making me very angry. And also sex is more difficult. Doc said I’m gonna reduce the dosage because I can’t treat your ADHD without getting rid of the anxiety. Husband came out of the appointment angry and defeated. But now he’s taking less (and it might be helping?)

Soooo yeah. I try to brush my teeth at least once a day (up from the like once every 20 years I did it before) and I use the No alcohol Listerine in place of brushing sometimes because you can. I skimmed an article about how to take good care of your teeth and it said to not actually rinse when you brush and mouthwash in place of brushing sometimes. I drink almost exclusively soda so I try not to drink any for at least 30minutes after brushing or mouthwash.

We hung out with the friends a couple weeks ago and they said we should start up a new DnD campaign because one of our friends has a roommate in his small apartment and can’t rejoin the old one. The roommate is a friend displaced by a breakup, but he seems to have a new apartment and the moveout date keeps moving. Our DM is getting tired of it and one of our other friends wants in because he’s lonely and DnD is great, so he said we should start up a new campaign so he can join. So we’re setting up for that, just in case.

In order to work on my writing, I’ve skimmed a lot of tips articles after watching a bunch of YouTube lectures and videos. I kinda hate reading and I feel like a huge fraud because if I want to write, I should like to read. But I don’t want to risk buying books I don’t like and having piles of books on my Kindle that just rot. And also, you know, I’m broke. Why spend money on something I won’t get any enjoyment out of? Just a waste at that point. Coulda bought some McDonald’s with that money. Or something. So I thought about the library. I don’t have an active library card, but I knew my Dad had one, so I asked to use his to check out ebooks. He obliged and I started getting books that everybody recommends, like The Name of the Wind and Tales of Earthsea and all this other stuff. I also got Mistborn: The Final Empire and some other Sanderson books, and the Witcher series. But not every book was available at my library. I found an app that let me look at other libraries’ catalogs and I found the missing books at the library where my husband’s family and friends are. I asked our friends if they had a card among them, and the one guy that works at the library has one but his card is always maxed out for checkouts. As an employee, he can check out like  a max of 99 things. And it’s always maxed out. He offered me something I wasn’t comfortable with, so I declined. So I asked my husband to make a card. He declined. So I asked him to ask his mom to make one. She said she doesn’t live in the city, so she can’t. She sent us an email with my husband’s sister’s name for a library that I didn’t ask for and didn’t have the books I was looking for available. Because it uses a different service than the one I was looking at apparently so I could use that one but they didn’t send actual login information.

My husband, because of the way he communicates with his family, asked his mother for help with this library endeavor very cavalierly. He was just loosey-goosey with it. Something about it rubbed me the wrong way, but I figured they would handle it. His family intimidates me, has rarely made me feel welcome, and so I usually leave myself out of conversations with them. But after they just stopped worrying about the library thing, because I felt like I was right and all they had to do was make an effort, I took it upon myself to email his mom directly. Due to childhood trauma or other paranoia, I’m always worried about being misconstrued or misunderstood, so I end up being very verbose. See above. So I made a long email explaining why I wanted the library card, why I was asking for their help specifically, and included links to the places I saw you could make a library card and how they didn’t have to leave the house to verify it because of COVID. Then, to make sure it wasn’t demanding, that it was friendly, I added some stuff at the bottom about how I wished them well and I was proud of my sister-in-laws’s weight loss journey and how my chest was doing and blah blah. I sent this email right before bed. I assumed that his family would work together to figure it out and if they didn’t wanna deal with it, they would say they weren’t interested. The worst they can do is say no and I’ll have lost nothing except time.

Woke up to an email from his mother saying, in that malicious compliance/corporate politeness way, that she couldn’t make a library card because she didn’t live in the city and she’d be happy to make one for one of the cities that did work. Also, she hoped I was feeling better.

I had had a bad day prior. The day before, waking up had been near impossible, my husband ordered McDonald’s delivery for breakfast and I wasn’t hungry so we sat and watched an anime I didn’t want to watch while food sat getting cold in front of me. I ended up not being hungry for 8hrs. We were talking to the group about DnD, but also needed to shower, so while my husband got in the shower, I said some things to the group and then hopped in the shower. Upon telling my husband what I said, he had this look on his face like he was planning how to damage control what I had said, despite not even knowing what it was. My exhaustion had left me vulnerable, so I couldn’t deal with it and cried. He apologized and we talked about it. Bolstered by this conversation, I went on to boldly converse with other people, which is what allowed me to send that email to his mother in the first place. So upon her declaration that she couldn’t help me, I decided to help myself.

So I went through the process of making an account using my husband’s name for the library I wanted and it worked, I think. It’s not verified or maybe it’s not in the city, so I couldn’t check out an ebook. So I was back to square one. Not only back to square one, now I was doubly wrong. I had pursued this process in righteous indignation, after having directly contacted his mother, and been proven wrong. So now, not only was I dumb and wrong, I had put myself out there. I was wrong on stage.

My husband, wanting to help, went and acquired the one book I was using as my litmus for me. There are probably others I could look up, but at least I have that one and it’s sequel.

But yeah, that’s what’s going on with me.

[searchingwardrobes]

My Problems with Once and Adoption/Foster Care

Ya’ll know I love this show, and I love the character of Emma Swan. BUT . . . their portrayal of adoption and foster care - particularly the adults who care for these children - leaves much to be desired. The thing that especially saddens me are those in the fandom who buy into their portrayal without question. I recently started another fic that throws adoption agencies under the bus. I don’t fully fault writer’s. After all, the source material is flawed, and we all want to write Emma in character. However, I just hope I can give you another perspective.

Why in the world am I qualified to talk about this? Well, let’s see . . .

* My cousin fostered to adopt all three of her children, two of them brothers.

* My sister pursued adoption for several years before deciding to embrace being, as she puts it, “the best aunt ever” instead.

* My best friend waited ten years to adopt her precious daughter. She went through the heartbreak of caring for her first child - a son - until his birth mother changed her mind at the last minute before the adoption was final. 

* We have a close family friend who is like an “extra grandma” to my kids and her adult daughter was adopted at birth. 

* My sister in law and her brother are adopted.

* My husband’s youngest brother and sister were officially adopted by his dad after he married their mom.

* Another close friend of mine adopted her twelve year old daughter from The Philippines two years ago. She was born with her mouth fused shut, no feet, and no hands. I tutored this little girl for a year, and I love her to death! 

* A friend of mine who is now in her sixties put her daughter up for adoption when she became pregnant at fourteen. The girl found her as an adult, and they have now forged a relationship.

* Another friend of mine is fostering her niece while her sister is in rehab. Right now, it looks like it may become permanent.

This isn’t even an exhaustive list of all the people I know who have fostered and adopted. These all span multiple locations as well.  I know it’s not the same as going through it myself, but all of the above people are dear to me and it hurts me deeply to see their way of life misrepresented. 

So here are just a few things that I want to point out concerning the plot on Once:

1. Domestic infant adoption in the US varies state to state, but it basically goes like this:

* If a birth mother decides to pursue an adoption while she is still pregnant, it is HER decision who gets her baby. If she goes through an agency (most common), she will get to look through profiles of potential adoptive parents. This is important to remember, PLEASE! The birth mother chooses the parents, not the other way around. If it’s a private adoption, she usually finds out about the parents through friends, family, or acquaintances, but the choice is still hers. Therefore, if Emma had decided to put Henry up for adoption before he was born, as the show implies, she would have been the one to pick Regina out as his adoptive mom. 

* The birth mother can decide to meet the birth parents or never meet them. The birth mother has the right to ask for financial assistance for everything from maternity clothes to counseling after she gives the baby up. The only thing illegal is the mother can’t “sell” her baby. In other words, she can’t make a profit off the adoption.

* The birth mother also gets to decide if it is a closed adoption, semi open, or completely open. Even in a closed adoption, the child has the right to the birth parent’s medical records when they come of age. Open adoptions are on a scale. Some birth mothers attend birthday parties and have regular visitation. Others let the child decide on contact when they reach a certain age. Sometimes they send letters each year on the child’s birthday. There are dozens of arrangements the birth mother can come to with the birth parents, and it all gets spelled out in a legal document.

* The only time an infant is placed in foster care is if the birth mother decides after birth that she doesn’t want the child. This is always temporary. Infants are either returned to the birth parents or are adopted. THERE IS NO GROWING UP FROM INFANCY IN FOSTER CARE! Now, a child can be taken away from their birth home at a later date due to neglect, drug abuse, etc. But no kid is born into foster care. There are thousands of parents in the US waiting for an infant to adopt, more than there are babies to adopt. That’s why it took my best friend TEN YEARS to find her daughter. That’s why when a baby was abandoned at the Atlanta airport a few years back, hundreds of parents called family services wanting the child. The boy had a home (which became permanent) within 48 hours. There is no way a healthy, beautiful baby girl like Emma would have been put in that group home like we saw in season two. At worst, she would have been placed with foster parents temporarily until the waiting period was over. (See below)

* After the infant is given over to the birth parents, there is a waiting period. During that time, the birth mother can change her mind. This varies wildly from state to state. Here in Georgia, it’s two weeks. In Pennsylvania, where my best friend lives, it is an entire month. On day 30, my best friend had to give her son back to his birth mother. I can not convey to you the pain she endured. Having said that, I’m glad birth mothers have the freedom to change their minds. I would never want to go back to the 1950s when babies were ripped from the arms of their devastated mothers who were given no say in the matter. On a side note, some adoptive parents opt to let the baby go to a temporary foster home until the waiting period is over so they don’t go through heartbreak if the birth mother changes her mind. My next door neighbors chose that route when they adopted their daughter, but remember in Georgia, that’s only two weeks. With my best friend, she felt a month was too long and she was willing to love on that child even if it was only for a month. 

* Even after the waiting period is over, the adoption is not official until the parents stand before a judge. Legally speaking, this is more binding than birthing a biological child. In other words, there is no going back. No returning the child. No exchanges. No refunds. Which brings me to . . . 

THE SWANS GIVING EMMA BACK: If Emma was legally adopted, this would be impossible. She states that she was three when it happened, making it even less credible to me. The only way this would make sense is if they were foster parents who never legally adopted her. It is true that foster parents sometimes decide to stop fostering when they have biological children, but adoption? Nope. (Not to mention the show later claimed that Emma chose the last name Swan herself when she was 9 or 10, so .  . . )

2. The cost of adoption:

* I don’t know where the idea comes from that it’s expensive for a birth mother to give her baby up for adoption. The adoptive parents pay for everything, as I stated above, or at the very least, they pay the medical bills. This doesn’t mean it’s EASY for a mother to give up her baby. Props to Jen for portraying Emma’s agony so well in season three! However, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean it isn’t the best decision for the CHILD. Obviously, my friend who is now in her sixties was unable to care for a child at 14, when she was a child herself! She was thrilled to hear her birth daughter tell her about the happy home she was raised in. Like Emma tells Henry, birth mother’s give their children up “to give them their best chance.” It is a selfless decision.

* It IS expensive to adopt - for the adoptive parents. There are legal fees, fees for home inspections (which expire and have to be redone yearly), travel fees, medical fees (not only maternity for the birth mother, but physicals for them, their children, and even their pets), and then additional fees if they are paying an agency. This is a simplified list, honestly. A friend of mine had a blog when she was adopting her sons from Ethiopia, and her list of paperwork that had to be filed was mind-boggling. 

RUMPLE ARRANGING HENRY’S ADOPTION: Considering all of the above, it had to be an illegal, black market adoption. That does exist  -however, it’s usually foreign, not domestic. Nine times out of ten, however, they just swindle couples who are desperate to adopt. But you know, Once writers . . .  

3. The reasons parents adopt or foster:

* Inability to conceive - this has to be number one. It’s the reason my best friend adopted, and it’s the reason my sister pursued it for so long. One sad thing? The most common reason for infertility is a disease called polycystic ovarian syndrome. One of the symptoms is weight gain, regardless of diet or exercise. Yet guess what many countries require for you to adopt? A “healthy” BMI. Meaning women with PCOS have an even harder time adopting.

* Compassion for orphans - This is why my friends adopted their daughter from the Philippines. They have two biological children, but when they thought about the millions of orphans in the world, they felt led to share their home and family with a child who did not have one. I know several people who foster for the same reason. They aren’t doing it for a “check from the government.” (And fyi, the government gives them most of that “money” in the form of food stamps and other public benefits that often only covers the bare minimum.)

* A need in their family - My friend who took in her niece had just come upon her “empty nest years,” but she couldn’t look the other way when a three year old little girl was being neglected because of her mother’s addictions. She and her husband were then back to pull ups (the mother hadn’t even attempted potty training), preschool cartoons, and teaching the ABCs. Their niece also had spent so much time in an exersaucer that her legs were crippled and she still couldn’t walk. They had to pay for braces on her legs and physical therapy. But how could they turn away their own flesh and blood? (By the way, she is now five years old and thriving!)

REASONS TO ADOPT ACCORDING TO ONCE: To fulfill your own needs and soothe your own loneliness. I’m not saying there aren’t awful, selfish people out there who adopt for that reason, but I ask you: How many people would be willing to go through ALL the difficulties I described above for selfish reasons? It just doesn’t make sense. And frankly, it is insulting to the many adoptive and foster parents that I know and love. 

4. Regardless of all of the above, adopted kids DO struggle at times.

* Mary Margaret tells Emma in season one that Henry has the same question that all adopted kids do: “why did my real parents give me up?” (I’m paraphrasing, but you remember this scene, I’m sure). This is actually true. Pretty much every family I know who has adopted, their kids have gone through this at some point. No matter how loving a home they are raised in, this question inevitably comes up. Some kids (or adults) meet their birth parents and find peace : they really weren’t able to take care of me, they really did want what was best for me, they did it because they loved me. For others, meeting their birth parents is painful. Yet none of that means the adoption wasn’t the best choice or that the adoptive parents were awful to the child (like Regina).

* Is the foster care system in the US flawed? Yes. There are too many cases and not enough social workers. Children fall through the cracks, some of them have tragically died. However, if you actually look into the facts in such cases, children are most often injured or killed not by foster parents, but by their birth parents. Usually it is the system’s failure to remove children from dangerous homes that is the problem, not cruel foster parents. There are also not enough foster parents for children who need homes, with older children being the hardest ones to place. Many of these kids are suffering from severe trauma and caring for them isn’t easy. Typically, the reason kids are bounced around in the system is because their parents keep regaining custody, loosing it again, regaining it again, etc, etc. By the time the parents either get their shit together or relinquish custody, the kid’s a preteen or teen. So my question for Once is:

WHY DID EMMA GET BOUNCED AROUND? She was put back in the system at three, but we don’t see her again until she’s eight or so at the movie theater. Do you really expect me to believe they couldn’t find a home for adorable, sweet, smart little three year old Emma? My sister would have adopted a little girl like that in a heartbeat! She wouldn’t have cared that she was three. We’re told that Emma kept running away, but at three? 

No way little Emma was incapable of being adopted. I just don’t buy it. Since adopted kids have issues even in loving homes, why couldn’t that have been the writer’s narrative? Couldn’t Emma’s adoptive parents simply died at some point? In my opinion, the whole thing was just lazy writing.

[pcos-fighter]

Hello my dearest Cysters

So I’m going to first say this blog is a really personal blog for me. This actually isn’t my only blog as I have a main one for all my random fandoms I love(d) over the years. But this one takes the cake of personal.

Let me tell you a bit about myself, my name is Adrianna. I was born into a big family of 6 kids and I live happily (for the most part) in California. I have struggled with my menstruation since I was young noticing an issue at the age of 15 as I had my first period at age 11 and had not yet become regular by 15.

I remember being worried about it and asking my mom about it and she would tell me she was never regular in her youth and that it was normal however I couldn’t shake the feeling then something was off. At my check up I talked to my doctor at the time and she told me I was young and that my hormones would regulate by themselves and not to worry and I could go on birth control to regulate. So being so young I tried to live my life that way and refused birth control then.

When I was 20 and had my first pap smear and my doctor asked me about my cycle I told her I was irregular and occasionally had long periods. She then told me to lose some weight as that would help me regulate so at the age of 21 I lost weight. A lot of it. I went from a size 16 to a size 8/10. I still did not regulate. I did get periods but I had horrific pain from cramps. There were times I just wanted to curl up in a ball and my sisters would joke that I acted as if I was dying. There were days it was heavy I was scared something was wrong but still like the doctors before brushed it off I too pushed it aside and went on birth control at 23.

I gained the weight back after a couple years and by 24 I went to another gynecologist and complained to her about my lack of menstruation after being on and off birth control for 2 years. She then ordered me blood tests and then just basically said I had high testosterone but didn’t say I had pcos and told me to lose some weight to help. I don’t know about any of you but I remember feeling so frustrated about my body. About lack of periods but not understanding why, not piecing it together that it was PCOS. I felt scared, I felt alone, I felt broken. And worst of all I felt so defeated that these doctors kept saying just lose weight, that it will regulate.

It wasn’t until this year (June of 2019 at the age of 26) that I received two huge diagnoses. One, me being HPV positive which was scary in itself waiting to hear if I had cervical cancer or just a precursor and the second, hearing I had PCOS. Let’s just say I went through a lot emotionally in that one month alone than i had in all of 2018 combined.

I don’t have cancer and I am beyond greatful I was spared a hardship so many women have had to face with cervical cancer but can I just say having PCOS sucks so much on its own. I have good days and I’m okay but then there are days that hit when I just want to cry and cry and cry because I haven’t had a period yet. Or because I worry I am so infertile I can’t have kids and I get scared and it’s hard.

I am currently single and not actively looking for a relationship at the moment for many reasons (my sister is getting married and I’m the maid of honor so I’m busy being one of them) but there’s days I question the point of it all. The point of me meeting a good man and dating for a period before getting married and settling down if I am so infertile. I don’t want to ruin someone else’s desire if I can’t conceive naturally. Those thoughts run in my head often enough that it’s now keeping me from truly dating again (at least for now).

I am writing this out and creating a blog out of this partly for my own venting on my not so great days and partly because I am sure there are other young people with PCOS who have felt or are feeling terrified and alone and I want you all to know you are not alone. I am here with you, walking beside you, going through all these thoughts just the same as you. I still feel sadness and anger (when I met God we gonna have some words about this) and I still bargain for something to change.

Anyways this getting pretty long for now. So if you see this and you need a listening ear, please feel free to reach out to me. And my dears, know that you are beautiful and loved and that you are incredibly strong and I admire you for that. I’ll be here if you want to talk. And if you suspect you might have PCOS demand for ultrasounds on your ovaries, for blood tests, and don’t give up till you get an answer. Please stay strong. You got this.

[mamabearpeters]

I’m not sure how I am liking this platform. It’s different than it used to be...but I guess it’s not really a big deal. As long as the words are getting out, it doesn’t really matter if they’re pretty, does it?

For the past year, the thing I wanted most in my life was another child. Never thought I’d see the day, but here we are.

On the morning of April 21, I was low key aware that it was supposed to be the last day of my cycle, and as instructed by my doctor, I am supposed to test on this day if we are trying to conceive.

We had been kind of trying over the past year, but not really “correctly,” I’ll say. Pregnancy doesn’t just happen for people with PCOS. It’s a calculated game of medication, timing, cycles of disappointment and prayers to the universe or God or whatever you believe in.

But that morning, I almost didn’t take the test. It was an expensive digital one, and I didn’t want to waste it on yet another negative result. However, though I’m not sure why I decided to, I took it anyway.

When I haphazardly glanced at the result, almost pitching the test before even really reading it - my heart jumped into my throat. Double take. What? Are you serious?

This was the first time in my life ever getting a positive result on an at-home pregnancy test. I didn’t think it was possible due to my hormonal imbalances, but there it was, staring me in the face. My hands began trembling immediately. I couldn’t believe it. Good things don’t happen to me like this, I’m not ever surprised by anything. Everything in my life is controlled and calculated, so why was I so blindsided? Didn’t care. I was too fucking elated.

Fast forward. I knew before I even got pregnant that I would do a Sneak Peak early gender DNA test. It’s a blood test you can take at home to determine if there is a Y chromosome in the fetal DNA (indicating male gender). It claims to be 99.1% accurate at just 8 weeks.

Come 8 weeks and 1 day, I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted to surprise my family and I had to know. Rob having a daughter from a previous relationship, and a daughter with me, I wanted nothing more than to give him a son. Despite his sake, I had always imagined myself with a baby boy ever since I began imagining myself with children at all. Hell, I’ve even had the name picked out since like 8th grade.

Even with Kora, I experienced some degree of gender disappointment because I didn’t think I’d be a good mother to a girl. Sure, I was wrong. She’s awesome. She’s the best friend I never had, my mini me, my sidekick. There was always, “okay, well maybe the next one then.” But now.....this was it. This is the next one. The last one.

He told me this was it. He doesn’t want any more kids. He’s not getting any younger and I knew my time was running out the longer I went without getting pregnant. The first time I was just disappointed, but this time its a whole other type of anticipation because this is it. This is my last chance for my baby boy.

I mailed out my sample Thursday at noon, and at about 8 p.m. Friday, the e-mail popped up in my junk folder. Good thing I check that religiously. “Your results are in!”

I’m a natural born cynic, I try harder than hell not to get my hopes up about anything, but this...there was only one “right” answer.

I held my breath and opened it.

“Congratulations, you’re having a baby GIRL!”

The color pink encompassed the whole e-mail, laughing in my face.

No...

This isn’t what is suppose to happen. This isn’t right. This can’t be right. I’ve never felt so wronged by the universe in my entire life. I’ve never had something happen to me that felt so out of place and just did not make sense, it didn’t fit. The cognitive dissonance made my brain want to explode, but at the same time, here comes the cynic.

“You should have known.”

“This is your luck.”

“Too good to be true.”

Immediately, my brain tries to rationalize. I start trying to figure out ways this test could be wrong. Could I be so lucky to have fallen in the 0.9%? Maybe I took the test too early, maybe they just couldn’t detect the Y chromosome. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe I will only ever be a “girl mom.”

Yuck.

Doesn’t feel right. I’m not a girl mom. I’ve literally never gotten along or fit in well with girls, I don’t understand how I could only ever be a girl mom.

How will another girl follow Kora? How can I love her as much as Kora? What the FUCK am I going to name her?

This is next level disappointment. This isn’t your average gender disappointment this is gender devastation. Am I being dramatic? Maybe. You can judge me all you want. You can say I should just be grateful that I’m even pregnant, especially considering the fact that I have PCOS.

I should be grateful I can carry to term. “As long as the baby is healthy,” right?

Or even better, “you can’t handle a boy.”

What a great thing to say to someone in my position, isn’t it?

I’m not a piece of shit for being disappointed. I’m not ungrateful or undeserving of this baby. I’m just mourning a loss of a dream I���ve had for like, half of my god damn life.

Not only am I feeling devastated by this news and now have to wrap my head around it, I’m not going to let myself or anyone pile some guilt on top of it.

I wanted a boy, but with Rob, I wanted a boy even more. I wanted him to have the chance to be the father every son deserves - the father HE deserved. I think he needed a boy just as much if not more than I did. However, he didn’t seem as disappointed as I was. Unless he’s just better at hiding it.

There is still a chance of the result being wrong, as I took it very early on. I have done some research, read some reviews of false girl results and they are fairly common enough with the at-home tests, but for now, I need to come to terms with it.

I’ll update after the 3D gender determination ultrasound on July 10 that will either confirm or deny this result. So until then...girl mom it is.

[rahullkohli]

about the weight watchers app for kids...i’m thinking it may be for overweight/obese kids? i can see it being mentally taxing for those who are at a normal weight for their size. can you explain more about how it’s child abuse?

hello. thank you so much for actually being chill and open for a dialogue, unlike how aggressive people have been about the post.

anyway, i have been thinking about how to tackle this one the entire day, and i am afraid it’s gonna be a long one, so i’ll put it under a cut. i’m just gonna start out with a little background about myself, to explain how i am forming my opinions on the subject, and where my knowledge comes from.

i have been overweight more or less my entire life, even though i have gone through anorexia and bulimia, and have been eating below my necessary calorie intake literally my entire life (i grew up very poor, so we just simply didn’t have enough, or satisfyingly nourishing, food in the house). to this day i struggle with disordered eating patterns and body dysmorphia. i have been lifting weights on/off for 12 years, and i have been seeing a licensed nutritionist for a year and a half now, which has helped me lose 22 kg. i am still working on it. i have worked with a long line of fitness trainers (my mom is a licensed fitness trainer, for one), and about three different nutritionists. so while i don’t have any education in either of those fields, i have worked with professionals that have taught me a lot. i have also studied psychology in college for a year, and specifically child psychology for another year - i also spent a year working with kids ages 2-6.

my two youngest sisters did a weightwatchers program when they were around 8 and 10, so i have also seen upclose how that works. that was many years ago - and not in america - so i do know that the way things worked then/works in america compared to where i live, may not be the exact same. but the guidelines for the company, and their strategies should be the same, since it is afterall the same company. now, both of my sisters lost weight. they also gained it back. and more, and more, and both of them are extremely overweight today. in the way that i am the “thin” sister, compared. and they are eating disordered. they have no grasp of how to deal with food. they are intelligent women, and they know the basics of “if you eat too much pizza and ice cream, you will gain weight” but they don’t know, and don’t have the energy, to apply it to how they live. they are not only compulsive overeaters, they also don’t have a healthy eating pattern that could help stabilize their metabolism.

okay, so with that out of the way, let’s get to the actual app - and weightwatchers.

the app offers a diet, even though it is a fact that diets do not work. they literally do not. people who go on a diet will gain the weight right back on, and more. because diets are short-term solutions, and they are designed to make someone lose X amount of weight in X amount of time. it is not sustainable - just as with the oh-so-popular juice cleanses. for someone to lose weight, and keep it off, a complete lifestyle change is needed, but that is just not as simple as some companies, magazines, blogs, etc. will make it sound. because every single person is unique and what their body needs to maintain a healthy weight is unique to them specifically. in order to lose weight your daily calorie intake needs to be in a caloric deficit, but this depends on your height, your current weight, how your body is built, and more. those are things the app simply don’t take into account. now, i haven’t actually downloaded the app myself (i refuse to give them the clicks), but a licensed trainer i follow on instagram posted screencaps on her story. as far as i could see they take height and weight, and that’s that. but the human body is much more complex than just height and weight - especially when it comes to children and teenagers, who are growing, and going through tremendous hormonal changes. but i will get to that later.

what should also be taken into account are things like hormonal imbalances, and the fact that people breaks down macronutrients (carbhohydrates, proteins and fats) differently. fx, my sisters have poly cystic ovary syndrome (pcos), which means that their bodies can’t handle carbohydrates very well, whereas i need most carbs, medium protein, small amounts of fats. but apps like these don’t take that into account, because it is impossible for an app to do a check for what every single individual needs. i for example recently found out that my body doesn’t break down dairy very well. i have been using plant based milk, yogurt, ice cream and butter, instead of animal based for years, and only very small amounts of animal based cheese, so when my nutritionist had me switch to animal based yogurt i started gaining weight. i went back to plant based and the weight went off.

nutrition and a healthy lifestyle cannot be taught simplistic, because it is about the individual, and it takes a trial, error and do-over period to find what works for your specific body. and what works for your body now, might not have worked ten years ago, or ten years from now, because hormones changes how our bodies processes macronutrients. but this app is a “one size fits all”-system.

and this system. the system it is using is based on shaming children; making them feel inadequate, making them scared, and ashamed of their bodies. the “before and after” photos i have seen, have all been kids who weren’t even that big to begin with. and the fact that the “goals” to choose from when signing up includes choices such as “make my parents proud” is manipulative and destructive for a child/teenager. no kid should ever even have the thought that they need to be a certain weight/size, or their parents won’t be proud of them. the entire set-up is sowing the seed that their weight is the deciding factor for their worth as people, which is the beginning to eating disorders.

now, kids’ bodies really start changing around the age of eight (the age of which you can sign up for this monster); these years are called pre-teens for a reason. hormones really start flowing, and body fat is really needed to help the hormones and toxins take care of the body. but if a child is forced to lose excessive amounts of body fats, this can’t happen. this is one of the reasons that professional child ballerinas, gymnasts, ice skaters, etc. don’t develop until very late. some don’t even get their period until their twenties, because their development has been stunted by excessive dieting and exercising.

their psyche of children and teens are also really delicate, and they are in the process of developing what kind of people they are going to be. not only that, also what their relationships with their bodies are gonna be like. if they are constantly told by their parents/siblings/apps that they need to lose weight, that they have to track and count every calorie they consider eating, and every step they take, does that seem like a healthy foundation for how they view their body, nutrition and exercise in the future?

the way the app works is with the so-called stoplight system, where if when you put in a food it will either give you a green light (good), yellow light (medium) or red light (bad) - but the thing is that, again, that is not how simple nutrition is. you would think that the red foods would be soda, ice cream, chips etc., and the green foods would be stuff like fruits and vegetables. but again, the trainer i followed said that she put in her food for the day: a protein bar, two eggs with bread, and a piece of fruit. the protein bar came up red, the eggs and bread yellow and the fruit green. now, all of these foods are things that are written down in my carefully calculated meal plan from my nutritionist. in my plan i also have lots of vegetables, pasta, rice, chicken, even chocolate and chips. but the thing is that it’s all about how much of it i eat. and that is another thing the app doesn’t seem to take into consideration. if i was to put in nothing but vegetables it would give me green light the whole way, but it would not be nourishing for a whole day. 

this app is forming their minds to spend all their energy worrying about what they eat, when they eat, how they eat. think of an eight year old with this app going to a birthday party - do you think they would be able to enjoy regular kiddie birthday party food, with the red light in the back of their heads? even if it is just one day? this app is gonna rob them of their childhood, and being able to enjoy life.

so, what i am trying to say is that the app is bad because the system doesn’t work. it is not teaching healthy habits, it is not giving advice on how to obtain a sustainable weightloss, and it doesn’t care about whether the children are actually overweight or not. it is created by a company whose sole purpose is to make money.

i don’t think that all of the parents who are buying into this are doing it because they are evil; i do believe that they think they are doing what is best for their children, but their views on body images and nutrition have also been skewed by the media and the diet culture we are living in. parents may look at their daughter’s chubby cheeks and think she’s unhealthy when she is literally just a kid with puppy fat that she will grow out of once adolescence hits. sure, there are kids who are truly in an unhealthy state with their bodies, but then the parents should have the help from a licensed professional, starting out with seeing a doctor who can tell them whether their child truly is overweight to a degree that it is dangerous, and from there on be referred to professionals that knows what they are doing. kids shouldn’t feel guilty when eating, but they will with this app.

i do realize that overweight is a problem, for both children and adults - not just in america, but most of the western world. (fun fact: the other day i saw a program that said that china is, as of 2017, the “fattest” country in the world, so it’s not just the western world, i just don’t have enough information about other places to say anything about that.) but a “one size fits all”-app is not the way to handle this issue. there are way too many layers to the problem to fix that.

not only is it important to remember that overweight does not equal unhealthy, regardless of age, gender, race, or anything else, but unhealthy overweight is especially tied to low-income persons, as nourishing food is much more expensive and accessible to people with middle-class and above incomes.

there is also the fact that education about proper nourishment is non-existent. what people know about dietary information is what they get from the media, where they will tell you garbage like goat milk is bad one day, and literally the next the same publication will tell you it’s the fountain of youth. it’s unreliable, and has no roots in actual science. even statistics can’t be trusted, because those often stem from surveys and projects paid for by big cooperations who are paying for an outcome in their favor.

so, to sum it all up; this app is based on a system that uses bodyshaming and guilt to throw kids and adults alike into a vicious cycle of yo-yo weight patterns, eating disorders and hateful relationships with themselves, their bodies and their sense of selfworth. i don’t think parents who buys into this app are overall evil, but it is an obvious tool for abusive parents who uses guilt, shame, punishment and scare tactics to manipulate their children into the above mentioned unhealthy patterns, because the parents themselves are victims of the fatphobic diet culture we are living in. not to mention that the parents don’t have access to proper information themselves.

aside from that, you can also see in the notes of the original post, that there are incredibly many people, who will tell stories about how forced diet in their childhood/teen years has been a kickstart to a lifelong series of mental and physical health issues.

this app is preying on scared parents to capitalize of a beauty obsessed ideal that is completely unrealistic.

i have also written a post about nutrition here that may be of interest to anyone reading this.

i am open to any questions, and constructive criticism. other than that i just hope i have been able to explain why i believe this app is harmful, and that it has been an informative read. thank you so much for reading to the end.

xxx

[technical-adulting]

It sure has been a March...

Well, as I'm sure you've noticed, I missed my monthly update and I'm... well, about 18 days late. It's been a hectic month, to say the least, and my ability to stick to my self-scheduled plans has been iffy, but I'm getting back on track. I think I get a little bit seasonal during the winter season, because the last week of February and first week of March were absolutely exhausting to me. I had zero energy and was really struggling to get the things done around the house and in general that I needed to do. Then, my mom and I went to California to visit and help out my uncle, and that was a whole week where I obviously didn't have much time to work on outside projects. I did get some very nice pictures while I was out there thought, and saw the Winchester Mystery House!

We went to Twentynine Palms a few years back, but we only stayed in the area, dedicated to helping and cleaning that time too. Also, I got sick the moment we got there, so it wasn't a super fun trip. This time we were there longer, and we tried our best to do fun things and explore a bit more, because it's a real morale booster when you're overhauling a house. We got to go to the living desert, and all the way up to San Jose, which is a 7 hour trip from the little area of the desert we were in. It was absolutely beautiful out there, and although it's probably just a pipe dream, I really feel like I could enjoy living out there some day. Of course, I have some much more reasonable goals right now that I'm really trying to get a move on, so I'll just leave that on the back burners and try to convince those I love to come adventure with me again some time soon.

So mom and I still haven't started working on Nana's place, but now that the weather is getting nicer and spring is oh so very close (I can hear the birds, but everything still looks so dead and brown :c) I think that we'll have more opportunities to do so. I'm also actively looking for a job, and was given the suggestion that I should try out the banks, especially since there is a Community Bank in Watkins (closer to where I plan to eventually live). I already put in an application for the phone service at CCU and I'm going to apply for a teller position as well!

My room has reached a state where both sides are functional, although I do still have a few boxes against the back wall I need to go through. My group from Mansfield finally started recording our DnD podcast, so we meet (Mostly bi-weekly) in my room and record, since I have all the professional gear. Mom said she was going to clear out a filing cabinet for me, but that seems to have become a goal by the wayside, since we've been so busy. Most of the remaining stuff is books, and I should really do some spring cleaning with my clothing, but that's always a pain and I don't really want to sit up in my room all day and discover just how many pairs of pants and shorts don't fit anymore. (I get a little stressed about my body image when that happens...) I have only produced one more song, it's on soundcloud. I wasn't sure I wanted to release it everywhere because it's just kinda acoustic and quickly written. Not that I think it's bad, obviously I wouldn't have posted it, haha. Just... I suppose the content itself, which I feel as a deep part of me, is also something that gives me some anxiety at times, as far as publicity goes. It's linked below, nonetheless. [Check that out here]

I'm officially part of the leadership team at my church, but of course, right after I finished the course, I had to go to Cali. So I'm trying my best to re-integrate myself and do the most I can while not putting some of the other pressing things I need to take care of on hold. My audio-drama needs some work soon as well, though there was a holdup with my last actress and I haven't heard from her since, so I suppose I'll need to work on that...

As for my health - I'm on the highest dosage of metformin now, and the birth control seems to be effective in fixing some of the complications of my PCOS. I'm a little concerned, however, that my doctor thinks that the PCOS was caused by my weight. Of course, I am definitely overweight, but not by a lot, and the weight gain has been more recent. (Although I'm kinda muscular and have been a bit above average for a while, I didn't have hardly any tummy flab until my late teens.) She's primarily concerned with making sure my sugar stays low and that I lose weight. Hopefully with spring on the horizon I will be able to work out more often, and get a step up on my cardio, but the band for my fitbit broke, and I don't have any money to replace it as of yet. (Luckily I got a pretty decent tax return, so that should give me a little breathing room while I officially get a new job.) I'm going to look into planning meals with my mom. Thursday night or something we'll sit down and make a plan for the next week. If the doctor says that weight loss should be my primary goal, I might as well give it a good go before really arguing it's contribution to my other issues.

My sleep schedule is thoroughly messed up, but these last two days I've had to be up early for appointments, so at least I've got that. That should help me revert from Cali time, which fit in really nicely with my usual New York sleep schedule. I've re-organized how I sort my time again, just by doubling the amount of time I'll spend on each thing. It seems going in hourly sections works much better than in half hour ones. I'm tired, it's been a rough month so far, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. I'm trying to make sure that the stuff I dedicate time to is worth doing. The sun is returning, spring is so close I can only hope that I have a greater sense of hope as it draws near. I'm just so tired all the time. I'd love to feel rested for once.

[sikizu]

What conditions have you been professionally diagnosed with, and how did you find a doctor who agreed with you? Asking for a friend

This is probably going to be long, sorry in advance. I’m just 1. honored that you’d ask me about this, and 2. want to do your concern justice. This has been a process for me in many different areas of my life, and is pretty personal.

Physical health-wise, I was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) by an obgyn with a very good client record (including my mom) 2 years ago. I was diagnosed with “a bad ankle” in middle school, and the closest thing to a proper diagnosis I’ve gotten for it was 4 years ago, it being “close enough to a permanent sprain.”

Mental health-wise, I’ve been diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and borderline personality disorder (BPD) by my therapist. I’ve seen a few therapists, including at my old college, who all believed me to have PTSD (and one of whom also diagnosed me with DDNOS and selachophobia, though I’ve now dropped both of those diagnoses).

In my case, it’s pretty fucking obvious that I have PTSD (wahoo), so there’s not much “agreed with me” as “has ever seen someone with PTSD.” BPD is a new one for me and threw me for a loop at first. My therapist got out the DSM and read all diagnostic criteria for both disorders, and that really helped me understand that yeah, BPD does make sense for me (especially now that I’m aware of what “quiet BPD” is).

As far as the other diagnoses go, because I believe this is worth mentioning, it was a fairly different road. I didn’t have a period for over a year, so I got into my obgyn, a FEMALE (which is important) doctor with over 30 years experience, and she almost immediately knew I had PCOS due to my symptoms. She still had me go through blood work, a pelvic ultrasound, and in the end she was able to check off enough boxes of the diagnostic criteria to diagnose me.

My ankle was a lot different and by far the most frustrating experience for my physical ailments (let’s just forget that PTSD changes the structure of the brain for a hot second here). My pediatrician wasn’t the biggest fan of me and my problems, and after my dad forced her to run some x rays on my ankle, she sent me to physical therapy. At this point my ankle had atrophied quite a bit, so it was pretty much necessary. At PT my therapist gave me a better understanding of what I did to my ankle (it was a sustained hiking injury), and helped me, you know, be able to walk somewhat normally again (I still have a slight limp). 4 years later in senior year of high school, my ankle was starting to pinch my nerves, so I went to one of the best joint specialists in the state (who was luckily local for me). He did 7 x rays of my ankle and diagnosed me with both a “bad ankle” and a “permanent sprain” for anyone who needed a name for my condition (which he was thankfully understanding of–it’s not normal for a teenager to be physically disabled). So all in all it took about 6 years for me to get a diagnosis–and more importantly–a doctor who understood my frustrations and condition in general. He also gave me a new brace for my ankle, and recommended me to get a cane (which I now have, and has saved my mobility so many times it isn’t funny).

Which is to say that I wasn’t immediately diagnosed with PTSD. That still is the longest of my diagnoses–I very well SHOULD have been diagnosed as a preteen, at the very least. Even as a child, I had outward signs of being traumatized. I was unfortunately not in a situation of… being around understanding adults. I had to carry myself through till high school, where I finally convinced my parents to let me see a therapist, much to their chagrin. He then fairly quickly diagnosed me with PTSD/CPTSD (which is a bit of a “bastardized” diagnosis as it’s still not in the DSM). I’m now really starting to “live” with it despite probably having it since I was still in elementary school.

My advice is to stick to your guns and listen to your instincts. If something feels wrong, respect that. You’re your own biggest advocate (even over your guardians, yes), so the louder and longer you scream the better chance you have of eventually finding someone who will listen to you (which is to say: stay polite towards professionals, no matter how aggravating they can be–you’ll get what you want faster that way). Will it cost money? Yes. Will it be worth it? Yes. One thing that also helped me was researching my own condition myself. I’m not a particularly big advocate of self-diagnosis, but at the same time, it’s better to look at your own health critically and do whatever work you can while you still can’t get a professional opinion. That’s how I knew that I likely had PTSD at least a year before ever seeing my first therapist.

I hope this helped, and if you have any more questions about anything, please continue to do so, anon or not. I wish you luck.