#i should visit my therapist

[orgasming-caterpillar]

If there was porn in Sanskrit I'd watch it

[mutiny-huyutiny]

nyanyanya mimimi

[druidonity2]

I looked at my fanart of War Crimes with Anduin holding himself dying with Chromie, and I decided I wanted to draw more Anduin trauma with dragons...(wip)

[thotsfortherapy]

having mommy issues be like I hate that you know me I hate that we’re related I hate that you birthed me I hate that you don’t know how to love me properly I hate that you can’t see how much you hurt me I hate that I’m expected to love you

[ayakashibackstreet]

PhD project presentation so bad it makes your mum consider that you're actually autistic

[herawell]

.

[raksh-writes]

Maybe this doesn’t need to be said, but Im feeling awful about it, so -- to any mutuals that might notice Im not following them anymore, I'm sorry about that. I've just seen too many posts on my dash that I have no way of blocking because they're not tagged in any way and they're distressing enough it's turning one of the only places I considered a safe space not safe for me anymore. So for my own mental health, I had to unfollow. I Will refollow in the future and I still love y'all, but I just-- I can’t. Ive been noticing some very worrying stuff about my mental and emotional state and it's just too much currently. I hope it's at least an understandable decision, and I wish y'all are having a good day out there 💗

[television-overload]

Do I really want to apply for that job in Washington, D.C. or have I just watched too much NCIS and X-Files?

-Me, every time I open LinkedIn

[crazylacefaget]

me being told several times to try physical therapy as if my unemployed ass can afford the copay multiple times a week

this also goes for mental health treatment too but like. double

[polzkadotz]

.

[shippingfangirl013]

Gonna go give into the horrors now ✌️

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Hello! It is me, the anxiety man. I can’t find the post so I don’t know how long ago you asked (thanks tumblr.) but for me Gastroparesis is mostly nausea and vomiting. Within an hour of eating I throw up most of my food a solid 80% of the time, prior to throwing up I am exceedingly nauseous; if I don’t throw up I am exceedingly nauseous (this is a lose/lose situation.) sometimes if I don’t throw up I throw up hours later (occasionally the next day ~13+hrs later) undigested food.

This is not everyone’s experience however, there are many with Gastroparesis who do not vomit at all. The best test is a Gastric Emptying Study (though be aware it can (rarely) give a false negative.)

I also have Dx’d hEDS, Orthostatic Hypotension (like PoTS but with a BP drop), and Autism (anecdotally comorbid w/ hEDS)

I hope you get answers (or depending on the age of your post, got answers :)

Hi, thank you so much for the response! Literally any info at all is helpful to me and being able to hear other people's experiences is incredibly useful.

Personal medical/health info under the cut ✌️

I definitely meet at least some of the criteria, but when it comes to the most common symptoms, like the nausea and vomiting you mention, I don't really find it effecting me so much? I also grew up with severe anxiety that made me nauseated, and I wonder if my aversion to actually vomiting for real might be a part of this. I DO get an acid-reflux type of feeling, with no pain or lead up, that consists solely of me throwing up in my mouth a little, and this had even happened on an empty stomach 😞

I technically haven't been medically tested for POTS, but I do exhibit all the symptoms + self tested with both a blood pressure cuff and heart monitor and easily met the criteria (63 bpm difference the first time I tried l m a o); my doc thinks hEDS is a strong possibility and so does my therapist, so I'm honing in on that and everything else associated with it. The anecdotal evidence of autism being comorbid is interesting! While I haven't had any official testing, it does fill in the gaps where my adhd doesn't and I've been genuinely considering that I may be autistic for at least a year or so now.

I've scheduled with my GP for early December and I'm gonna bring all my GI issues to the table; I know I struggle with feeling hungry and have struggled with meals, especially in the mornings, bc I just can't eat more than a few spoonfuls of whatever, with a lot of the issues going away if I'm solely eating liquids like soups or protein drinks U_U I also remember having periods of time where I have stomachaches after most meals, just like a dead weight in my abdomen U_U THOSE seem to coordinate with gastroparesis but it's like, my symptoms aren't violent enough to feel like they're under the diagnosis? Though that's also how I felt about POTS, until I read about people's experiences and then tested my own heart rate.

It's definitely a work in progress at the moment, but this is the most work I've ever been able to do in terms of finding answers for my health; here's hoping I actually do get some answers after all these years 🤞

[aceyanaheim]

Nothing like my mom telling me to "why don't you leave with your father" to remind me why I'm never regretting moving out tbh

[gender-euphowrya]

old people really were raised on the idea that their descendants were just future caretakers for them and never fucking learned to think otherwise

[zweikometen]

I think maybe. Just because I have a privilege doesn’t mean I should feel compelled to use it.

[peachesofteal]

I blame @alwaysshallow but-

Simon Riley’s back is fucked. That’s an understatement. Between work and the weight he’s carrying around, his spine weeps at night when he goes to lay down. Twisting and crouching and crawling only increase the strain, the twinges between muscle and bone blooming into a full grown ache. Those threadbare shit mattresses they always seem to find, awful. By the time he gets back to base, he’s already been popping paracetamol from morning to night, his jaw so tight he’s got a permanent headache.

Physio is a necessity. When he was a younger man it was easier to blow the whole thing off, swallow it down with too many glasses of bourbon, but now if he doesn’t go within a day or two after landing back at base, he’s miserable.

However, there’s a problem.

It’s you.

Simon’s not really sure about you. Sweet as a lolly, but incredibly jumpy, your hands shake before you really get started, carefully tracing over his back, feeling for knots and strains.

“H-hi Lieutenant Riley.” He grunts his acknowledgment, stripping off his shirt and assuming the position across the table, face down, arms to his sides. “Okay, straight to it, I guess.” He should say something, but doesn’t. He doesn’t mind letting you wallow in your discomfort. If he’s being truthful with himself, he enjoys your nerves.

Your fingers are deft, pinpointed pressure alleviating the agony splintered across his back. You’re polite as a nun, letting him know where you’re going beforehand, giving him time to prepare to feel your touch.

“I’m going to try to adjust this tension in your lower back now.”

“I’m going to press on the sciatic nerve.”

“You’ll feel my palms on your shoulders.”

It’s kind of you, considerate, even though every time you step away from the table he catches the anxious look on your face, brows knitted together, lip tucked between your teeth.

At the end of his session today, you swallow and start babbling, hopeful look on your face. “Hey, I’ve just learned these new massage techniques, by the way. I’ve been practicing and was wondering if you’d be interested? Really should loosen up the last of these muscles. I’m pretty new at it, but was hoping-“

“No.” He snaps, and your face falls for a second before you catch it, and nod.

“Sure, of course. Sorry Lieutenant Riley.” You step away, professional smile back in its place, and gesture to his shirt. “I’ll just let you…” He sits up, fully, but your eyes don’t stray. “Alright, well, see you next time.”

The next time he’s in to visit you, you’re not outside your office to greet him as usual. He frowns, not enjoying the change in your routine, forcing him to knock on your door and wait for an answer.

When someone else answers the door, something weird happens to his stomach, some sort of phantom pain, and his skin starts to itch.

“Who are you?” He barks, and the man narrows his eyes.

“I’m filling in, your usual therapist is out today.”

“Out? Out where?”

“They didn’t say.” Where the fuck are you? He turns on his heel, striding out of medical, ignoring the questions lobbed at his back.

“Lieutenant Riley?” You’re trembling in your doorway, fingers wrapped around the door handle. “W-what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t at therapy.” You’re just standing there, confused.

“I… I know. I’m not feelin’ well.” An unbearable drum starts beating in his chest, so loud it throbs in his ears.

“Step aside.”

“Wha-“ you’re cut off as he brushes by, hooking an arm around your waist and dragging you along by his hip. Herding. Instinct. “What’re you doing?!”

“Hush.” The door shuts behind him, the finality of the click deafening. “Need someone to take care of you, don’t ya? Can’t seem to do it yourself.” Your mouth drops open, and he smiles to himself.

“Lieutenant, that’s… thank you, but I’m fine, really.” His hands rest on your shoulders.

“Don’t think so pet.”