#it’s caused by pcos which I always suspected it was

[mrd-gvf]

Sure googling symptoms can be bad and it can definitely cause anxiety but sometimes you find a name for a condition you never knew you had and it makes you feel much better about it. Also knowing the condition is not life threatening lifts a huge weight off my shoulders

[zagreus-eats-your-bread]

.

[copperbadge]

I know from medical conferences that the gut *and* its biome has been known for a while to be a huge part of our nervous system. Since that was ten years ago, I suspect the reason we don't know much about it is the same reason women's reproductive systems are so 'mysterious': no one funded it. No one wants to attend a charity drive about shit. A *lot* of issues could be solved with the speed of the COVID vax, if funded; you can probably speak to that far better.

You know, I'm not sure I can speak better to that. I haven't been immersed in either women's health issues or gut health/ADHD-Autism issues much, so I don't know what the scope of research is there. However I do have some thoughts about "funding could fix this" -- because funding could fix some things...but it can't always fix everything.

Most research, at least in the US, is driven by two things: either 'this will be super lucrative' or 'people won't shut the fuck up until we fund it'. It's highly unfair that stuff like the Crohns-Autism link or PCOS have to be lobbied to be funded, because generally the people doing the lobbying are already dealing with fatiguing health issues, and certainly I think there's a case to be made that a lot of "non lucrative" conditions could do with a lot more research. I'm not saying anything is well-funded when it's not, I just don't have that data.

However, I work for a nonprofit that serves a medically afflicted community, and I know that even if you are funding research to the hilt, sometimes it doesn't go anywhere. ALS got a shitload of funding and managed to make huge advances in treatment, but like...

My nonprofit sources and funds young scientists researching treatments and cures; we give them a fifty grand jumpstart and most of them have gone on to get millions from the NIH. Some of those millions are from our lobbying for increased federal funding. We have built a database of DNA and tissue samples from our constituency that pharma and research labs have access to, which is genuinely advancing medical knowledge. (Yes, the database is voluntary, everyone consents, it's all very above-board.) We have working relationships with basically every pharma company in the world that is studying anything related to our interests. 

 We've been at it for nearly two decades, and we still don't fucking know what causes the family of diseases we support. We don't even have diagnostic tests that let us easily identify the disease -- for all our hard work it's generally a four-year process from initial symptom to diagnosis.

And when you're dealing with conditions which in the past have been highly stigmatized, treated as mental illness, or subject to eugenic ignorance, it gets even more complex, of course. People bring a lot of bias into the study of neurodiversity. So it is possible there is a ton of research going on (I genuinely don't know) and the wheels are just spinning in place right now.

Increased funding is great and increased lobbying for research funding is great, but without knowing how much is getting spent where, it's tough for me to comment more fully. I've spent three years watching our doctors try desperately to find a cure or even a more effective treatment, with solid funding but very little success. Sometimes the fight is a marathon, and there's no amount of money that will turn it into a sprint.

[macapacaalpaca]

Today marks the start of September, which is PCOS awareness month so I want to speak out about something I previously didn’t feel strong enough to fully share - my story.

Please note: this post is not for sympathy, or pity. I want to share my story in the hope that someone might feel comforted or less alone as a result, and I’m here for anyone who is fighting the same/similar or any battle. The reality is - I was diagnosed this year, and it’s been shit.

Polycystic ovary syndrome affects 1 in 10 women and is the most common cause of female infertility.

My journey started when my period had stopped for 2 years and I was concerned about it because I knew it was well past the “stress can affect your cycle” stage. It was the week before my birthday back in March and I decided that since I was about to turn a new age it was best I figured it out and started on a clean slate. I consulted with my doctor and she took bloods. She suspected I had PCOS given my symptoms and sure enough I was diagnosed a few weeks later.

In June I had an ultrasound for my ovaries and abdomen. It was my second (since I had one a few years ago for suspected Crohn’s disease which thankfully I don’t have) and a much worse experience than my first. It was excruciatingly painful and I was left with severe abdominal pain for several weeks after, as well as some marks and bruising which shouldn’t have happened.

They located numerous ovarian cysts at the start. A few weeks later my scan was queried and I was then told I also had another cyst on my spleen. I was referred to two separate hospitals after that - my local for another ultrasound to check my splenic cyst and to one of the major hospitals to consult with a specialist to start a treatment plan for my PCOS.

The pain (due to the ovarian cysts and a complication in my womb) started to get progressively worse, so much to the point that I went to my doctor again a few weeks ago almost in tears, practically begging for something to help the pain because I couldn’t put up with it anymore. I was given metformin and anti inflammatory gel to try and ease my symptoms and so far it’s been a struggle. The metformin didn’t work well for me since I ended up losing all my appetite and was doubled over with nausea for days. I had to stop taking them and at the moment can’t take anything until I get my next hospital appointment.

It’s safe to say that this has been the hardest battle. I’ve always pretended I’m okay when the reality is far from it. I rarely speak about these struggles, only my close friends and immediate family know about my diagnosis because I don’t want to complain constantly. I got the call about the rare splenic cyst just minutes before I had to go to work, I had to run upstairs during shifts because I thought I was going to throw up from the medication, people have started to notice and comment on me clutching my stomach or back when the pain gets intense, all those things add up. And they threaten to eat you inside.

I experience most symptoms daily such as no periods, extreme pain, hair loss, weight gain, nausea, shaking, dizziness and the constant worry of how being infertile may affect my future. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain the pain and heartbreak I felt during my ultrasounds thinking about how I’m going through all of this now but may never get to experience it to see my baby.

When you’re forced to accept that your fertility chances are 20-30% and you’re 3 times more likely to miscarry than the average woman at a young age, it’s just devastating. Infertility is one of the hardest things that you never understand until you go through it. I know people might think “why does she care so much now” when I have no intention of having children yet. In reality it doesn’t matter if it’s tomorrow or 10 years away, it hurts just as much.

I know that this diagnosis has changed me as much as I wish it didn’t. I don’t feel like the same person anymore. The energy and happiness I used to have is gone. Going out partying or clubbing doesn’t feel the same. I put all my dresses to the back of my wardrobe at one stage because I didn’t feel confident or comfortable in my own body due to the bloating. I don’t drink much at all usually, and now have to keep my alcohol intake to a minimum due to medication but then seem uptight for being the only sober one which is disappointing because if you knew what was going on you would see it so differently.

If you know someone who has PCOS, give them a hug. Tell them it’s okay. Tell them you’re proud of them. To every woman who is fighting this battle - I applaud you and you are not alone.

If there’s anything you can take away from this post then please let it be to listen to your body, educate yourself, and get checked out if you’re concerned. Remember that I’m only ever a DM away and I’ll be there with open arms and ears for anyone that needs someone to talk to.

I am 1 in 10. It’s hard. It’s exhausting. It’s tested me in every way possible. But that doesn’t mean I’ll give up 🤍

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

Sinners. (Stalker!San x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Semi Non-Con, sadism, masochism, fear kink, hair play, head shaving, complete submission, humiliation, degradation, anal, camera play, piercing, denial, chastity, Psycho!San, twisted and dark fucked up shit. Read at your own risk. You've been warned. This isn't for everyone. It is purely fiction and doesn't reflect any individual's behavior nor does it encourage it.

It was early in the morning and she was about to go to college in an hour. But instead of running around having breakfast, getting ready and making sure she had her assignments ready, Y/n was standing in front of her mirror, eyes closed as she touched her pussy and touched an electric razor to her head, imagining what it'd feel like if it was on and an imaginary 'Master' was forcefully shearing her. Like a sheep. "Ahh... Master… please..." The girl let a whimper fall from her lips, having no idea that the curtains of her room were open and someone could watch her through the window.

"Fuck…" The man standing outside, behind the PCO booth on the sidewalk outside Y/n's apartment complex whispered to himself, feeling his jeans tighten. Taking a picture of the girl before switching it to video mode, planning to send her the photo later. It had been a while now. Maybe a bit more than a while. He was ready and sure now, unable to wait anymore.

San had to have Y/n now.

He had to claim her rightfully his. Or, he felt like he'd lose his mind now. Just watching the pretty girl wasn't enough anymore. He wanted to touch her, feel her, tell her, that he knew… He knew that she wasn't as innocent as she made herself look in front of the people that knew her. That she was actually a hormonal little dirty girl. And whilst nobody knew that nasty side of her, he did. The thought made the man feel powerful. In control. Like he had a claim over Y/n.

There was no way in hell that she wasn't made for him.

Y/n got done with masturbating and packed up before going to college, having no idea that she had a stalker. The girl spent her usual regular day at college, having no idea of the storm that was coming.

.

San knew Y/n were in class and that’s exactly when he wanted to send her the photo he took. A sick smirk made its way on his face and he took his phone out, sending it with the caption, 'having fun there?' He knew where she sat, a lone desk by one of the windows in this classroom, the spot he was standing in providing him a clear view of her face. Yes. The man had all the information he could gather about her memorized by heart.

Y/n was drifting off when she suddenly felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, peeking at the Professor sneakily, the girl took it out and unlocked it only to choke on her breath before starting to cough, making some heads turn which caused her to put the device in her hand away to prevent it getting seized. Her blood ran cold and skin paled.

What the fuck just happened?!

San patiently waited for the female to exit her college, her being earlier than the usual time today, however. The man grinned deviously as he texted her again once she passed by him in a hurry, his taller figure getting up to follow her.

'Will you give that show again? Would you like someone to shave your hair off? That’s what gets you off right?' It shamelessly read, making her tremble.

Y/n started to rush towards her house as she didn't live too far away from her college, not having to use any vehicle because it was barely a 10 minute walk as she nervously glanced around. She was quite twisted herself. And so, a dark part of her mind thought... things, making her start to shudder as tears welled up in self hatred. She hated the soft pounds in her southern region, overpowering the thump of her heart ringing in her ears as she reached the building and rushed in.

'What's the rush for, Princess? Are you so eager to touch yourself again? Tsk. Are you horny? Knowing someone is watching you?' San was absolutely sick in the head. Chuckling at his own text, he bit his lip and hit send.

Y/n was shaking as she read the message. Yes. In her fantasies this was… thrilling, exciting, pussy throbbing and she'd like to play like this with her top but… a legit stalker? She wasn't THAT fucked. Or so the girl belived, at least. Rushing to the curtains after locking the front door, the girl drew them while trying to catch someone's glance outside but no luck.

San had mastered the art of hiding as he watched her. It wasn't like this was new or anything.

Y/n felt hopeless. She couldn't even call the cops! What would the girl show them as evidence?! She didn't want to tell or show them this! Her filthiest desire.

The 21 year old was having a mental breakdown! All her savings were in this college. She could not run away, didn't have any friends because Y/n was a foreigner and the people of this country were rather hostile to any outsiders. Couldn't go back home because she had run away from there, which was a hell in itself, when she had received her acceptance letter.

'Aww come on now!' Her phone pinged again, and then again. 'You can’t keep the fun all to yourself!'

The realisation felt like a bucket of ice cold water everytime she was reminded of it. The person had seen her masturbating and that to the fucking… razor! They knew her fantasies and at that the darkest ones! She couldn't even text them back asking him who it was! The girl was simply too embarrassed to! What if it were someone she knew in her college or around the apartment complex!

It was a dark day and it started raining. Y/n felt tears streaming down her face as her heart beat never slowed down, more terror filling her as everything outside got dark and thunder struck.

Maybe she should call the cops... No one else would help a foreigner… She just knew it. Nobody liked college students especially that lived alone because they were 'reckless' and often lied to get a good laugh out of the elders with their friends. So no one really opened their door for a student they didn't know personally.

But what would she tell the cops?! They ask for evidence!

Meanwhile, San stood on the spot he had found. Even if it was literally the end of the world, he'd still be there. Always. She was his and he had to have her all to himself. There was no other way. The man wasn't exactly sure how he'd do it but he’ll find a way.

.

Y/n called the cops at last when she started suspecting someone's presence outside her apartment. Or window… she wasn't sure anymore. And the loud thunder outside didn't help her situation. Dialing the police the scared girl told them she was afraid someone was stalking her and needed an officer for security right now. i Telling them about the texts and deciding to leave the nasty parts out, she sighed in somewhat relief when they informed that they will send an officer on the way. The student grabbed a water from the fridge and sat on the couch, taking huge gulps while trying to calm down.

Finally.

It only took some minutes before there was a knock on the door. A nervous Y/n looked through the peep hole to only cry out in relief when she saw the uniform through it. "Oh! Thank God, officer! Thank you so much! You're here!" She  was overjoyed. "Thank you! I- I am so scared!" A weak sob left her. "Please come in!"

The officer looked around the house, nodding. "I need you to calm down, miss. Tell me everything. We are here with you." His tone was professional. His name plate read 'Park Seonghwa'.

"I- I have a stalker! I don't know how!" Y/n quickly locked the door after he stepped in. "Not many people like me because I am a foreigner! I don't know if it's someone from college troubling me o- on purpose or what... B- But they've been sending me some really p- personal stuff..." She looked up at him innocently, scared.

The dark haired man hummed and nodded. "Do you maybe know the number? Have you noticed any suspicious activity around you before? Is there someone who has a motive to do this?"

"N- No... I got the first text today... I- I am really scared... I've got no one here... W- What do I do?" She told him all of it, hoping that the culprit he caught as soon as possible so she could go back to her life where she was a nobody. No one knew her and she was just another face among many others..

"Alright. We’ll keep a close eye on you. Within this period, try not to hang out too much, yeah? It is best to come directly home after college. And call us on this number if you suspect anything." He wrote a number on a paper and handed it to the shaky girl.

"Oh... Alright officer... thank you..." She saved the number gladly. And since he was supposed to stay with her to ensure the girl's safety, they sat down and Y/n awkwardly turned the TV on. Oh she never had a guy in her apartment before.

.

After getting used to the feeling of safety, Y/n got up after a while, finally having calmed down as she felt hungry. Cooking some dinner for two people, she went and handed the officer one of the two plates. "You've been here since evening... Please eat." She politely smiled, softly blushing from the embarrassment. The girl was too soft, continuously thanking him like it wasn't his job.

"You're a true hero..." She giggled and sat on the other couch, totally not thinking about how handsome he was. Before a sigh left her as she was reminded of the situation. "Officer... What will happen to my stalker when you catch him...?" He knew her darkest secrets. "I am really afraid... They mentioned some... things... very private... things..." The girl finally confessed.

“Mind telling me those things, miss? It will help us with his punishment. The more detail, the better” he placed his plate down, grabbing his pen and notepad.

"O- Officer... I uh..." Y/n gulped. "I- I can't..." She felt ashamed

“Why not? We should know so we can sentence him longer in the court. This is not okay. And you’re a foreigner. So it may also come under bullying.” His tone was soft and assuring as he looked at her, concerned.

It took the student a bit of persuasion before she spoke, hanging her head low and fingers fidgeting in her lap. "I... I was being naughty with myself... A- And they took p- pictures from my window... A- And taunted me about my... p- preferences, s- sir..." She put her own plate on the table now.

The man only hummed, nodding in an understanding manner. “That’s such a disgusting thing for him to do…” Before the man continued. “You shouldn’t do those nasty things while your windows are open either, Miss… You never know who will be watching.”

Y/n was blushing hard as her cheeks felt extremely hot. "I am sorry, s- sir... I won't do it again..." She couldn’t help but reply obediently. Her sub side sometimes got the best of her.

Besides… The officer was so handsome... It wasn’t helping her situation here.

.

A few hours later when it was bedtime and Y/n went to sleep in her room after taking care of her assignments and on the work she missed at school today, the officer got comfy on the couch. He was going to be here until tomorrow morning. Unless something happened. The girl was so tired she fell asleep easily, feeling protected and warm despite the terrible weather outside.

It was really late at night when Y/n woke up to a phone call.. "Hello?" It was the police, informing her that the officer that had been sent to her house had a bad ‘accident’ on the way and whether she still needed an officer.

The girl’s eyebrows at first in confusion before it sunk in and her blood ran cold as the phone fell from her shaking hands. At the same time she felt someone next to her. On the fucking bed. Pure terror filled her and she slowly turned to look at the relaxed figure dressed in the uniform. A shaky cry left her as she started trembling, literally mortified.

“Tsk... The stupid cops ruined the fun.” His voice was nowhere near that gentle and warm comforting voice now. Instead a low and deep hiss filled with nothing but mock.

.

San's eyebrows were frowned when he saw the cop car pulling up. "Oh no... you did not, Princess." The male smirked and shook his head slowly as he noted that it was only one officer. Moving through the shadows, he pulled out his blade from the pocket of his pants, expertly swirling it around in his hand and toying with it like he usually did. "Now, let’s see why do you need the officer, babygirl" his voice was barley a whisper as he made his way over to the car.

San was always so slick with his movements, catching the non-existent sounds of his figure were barely audible to the human ear. Before the officer could even realise there was someone around, the male had banged his head against one of the entrance walls of the low rent cheap apartment building, dragging him into the darkness with him before stealing his clothes and then dumping his body in the river along his car.

It didn't even take him long. He was fast, accurate in his calculations and confident in his abilities. "Now, to my Princess' rescue" chuckling to himself as he climbed the stairs, pinning the nameplate reading 'Park Seonghwa' on his breast pocket before ringing the bell to her apartment.

.

"The real fun is only starting" San sang as he pinned her down on the bed, holding her wrists tight above her head. "You have no idea how many nights I've watched you touch that bitchy cunt of yours." His hard bulge rubbed against her thigh.

An astonished Y/n was trembling, warm piss suddenly starting to leak out of her in pure terror as her heart threatened to burst out of the skin of her chest. Oh no! Is that what she thought this was?! It took her brain a few moments to understand it as the realisation sunk in like a ton of bricks. "Y- You... You're... You..." She could only whisper, eyes widened to the shape of saucers as an evil grin made its way on his features.

As San felt the bed getting warm, he started laughing at the girl condescendingly. "Look at you! Pissing yourself like a baby! How pathetic and disgusting! Did you really think anyone would help you, tsk?" He loved how she was shaking, the glow of her skin caused by the little droplets of sweat, her heartbeat that he could literally feel and the terror in her eyes.

Y/n started crying, the piss not stopping as it pooled inside her thighs. "Y- You're... You're the... stalker…" She whispered, still in disbelief as to how he managed that. "H- How did... How did you..." Oh God. Oh no.

The storm outside was so loud that screaming for help would just be in vain. It was so late no one would even be up...

"Baby, just like you said… I’m the stalker… I know everything about you…" His tone was sensual as he started kissing up the soft skin of her neck, moaning from how soft and delicate it felt. "Fuck! Your skin is even softer than i- it looks…" San felt himself twitch.

The girl was trembling as she slowly put it all together, staring at the ceiling as a feeling of despair and hopelessness filled her. "Y- You were p- pretending a- all this time! You're not the officer!" Adrenaline filled her as she kneed his cock, swiftly turning on her stomach and crawling off the bed before rushing out of the room. Nobody could hear the commotion. It was too loud outside.

"FUCK! YOU BITCH!" San yelled before laughing loudly. He loved this. Finally something enjoyable in his once lone and bland life. Holding his crotch, the male after her to catch the girl before she got away, catching her easily. "Where do you think you’re going?!" A smack landed on her face as punishment for what she did.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! Y- YOU CREEPY BASTARD!" Oh she would be getting a lot of beating for this! "H- HOW DARE YOU STALK ME A- AND THEN ENTER MY HOUSE! ILL R- REPORT YOU!" As she reached out to my table to hit him with something, her hand so conveniently ended up grabbing the razor and swung it back, going to hit him with it on the head.

San laughed tauntingly and caught her arm before she could hit him and shook his head, sighing. "Now now, isn’t this the razor you were holding when you played with that tiny little cunt of yours?" The shiny object dangled in his hand.

"P- PLEASE!" She remembered the text he'd sent her. "PLEASE! I- I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT DON'T DO THIS! PLEASE! I BEG YOU!" Y/n had no idea what to say.

"Aww sweetie…" His words were soft. Almost. "Keep your begs for the time when I'll be pounding that dirty little pussy of yours." San held her hands above her head. "You like to be owned, huh? You like to serve your Master and show everyone how much of an obedient little whore you are?"

Y/n was crying harder now, afraid because she didn't know what was going to happen. "N- No! Please no! It's not true! P- Please just let me go! I- I don't want to!" Oh but she had a being kidnapped and raped fantasy. She loved the thought of someone dangerous, like San, terrifying her and fucking her, making her into his cockwhore. And he knew it. She wanted it all. The girl loved the fear and force. But all of it actually happening was something she'd never thought of. "Please! Let me go!" How could it? A whole fantasy becoming true?

"Oh please, my little slut! Let’s not fool ourselves here. I know you love the thrill of this, I know you LOVE getting used like a worthless little toy and I will give you what you want. You can try to resist me all you want but you’ll never get away from me. You're mine. I'll always catch you. You're mine and belong with me." Her eyes were on the razor as she kept thinking about the text he'd sent.

Y/n tried to reach out of his iron strong hold and snatch the razor from him. "Nu-uh…" San sang out as he held the object above him. "What if I shaved your head while I’m destroying that slutty pussy, huh? Would you like that you little whore?"

"No! NO! NO PLEASE!" Oh… But she felt wetness trickling down her leg. Oh no.

"My my!" The man chuckled darkly. "What’s this?" He swiped a finger up her bare thigh. "God, you’re such a pathetic whore, trying to fool yourself by saying no but I know you’re enjoying this. How stupid and dumb. Stupid slut!" His free hand smacked her face before grabbing her hands again.

"N- No! No! Please stop! This i- isn't what it looks like!" Before she somehow broke free again, this time biting his hand before she managed to reach the door, trying to unlock it but her hands were sweaty and cold, fingers literally frozen as she struggled to open the locks, cursing when they kept slipping against the metal.

San pushed Y/n up against the door with the most force he could come up with and pounced himself on her, letting his hard cock feel up her ass. "Don’t fight it anymore." And with that, he pulled her pj shorts down and turned her around before spreading her legs and pushed her up against the door, unclothing his cock and aligning his tip against her vagina before forcefully thrusting into her without warning before moaning loudly, throwing his head back. "God! Such a tight little nasty cunt!" San moaned and kissed along her neck, feeling like he'd go crazy from how delicate and nice her skin tasted.

The girl moaned loudly in pain, a warm stream of blood trickling down the man's monster cock. "O- Oh my God!" A sick part of her wondered if he would also shave her head and face... "I- IT BURNS!" A scream tumbled out of her lips.

"Oh… You were a virgin? Such a nasty little thing. Everyone thinks you’re an innocent little girl but in reality, you’re just a needy little bitch! Needy for cock! All the time!" He picked her up and carried the girl back to her room while still keeping his cock in her before plugging the razor in. "Come here!"

Oh yes. Oh no! Oh… She was having a battle with herself. Did she want this or did she not want this?! "PLEASE... S- SIR..."  Please yes or please no...? She didn't even know what was happening anymore. This was fucking crazy. Her stalker who had done God knows what to the cop and had entered her house after watching her for who knew how long. The stalker that had a private photo of her and she didn't even know how many other materials. And now was on top of her like this...

"Please what, babydoll?" San pulled her in and kissed the soft trembling lips roughly, loving how good she tasted and felt.

Y/n cried against his lips, the man's huge cock still in her wet and tight walls. "I- I am scared! P- People will laugh!" Was that the only thing she cared about?

"So you want me to, but scared people will laugh?" San smirked while pushing his hips back and forth, moaning with each thrust. "Let them laugh, that will turn you on even more because you love getting humiliated. I know you too well, baby.”

Y/n had faced such rejection and hostility her whole life from different people she had trusted with her safety from time to time… this was driving her crazy. Her messy emotions got the best of her at the end of it. Her breaths were heavy. "Y- You're right... You know me so well..." She started speaking his language. "Y- You want me? O- Or you'll leave me too?" This was wrong; sick.

“No. I am staying by your side and you’re staying by me. I’ve wanted you for so long... you have no idea.” He groaned at how good she felt, biting back the whimpers threatening to fall out of his lips from the pleasure. “You have no idea just how many nights I have jerked off thinking it was your tiny little pussy, hugging my cock as you moaned and begged me for more, slut.”

The girl blushed, feeling like she was dreaming. This felt perfect… at least to her troubled mind. "You're crazy... You're scary... You made me piss myself out of pure…” She whispered slowly, a small smile making its way on her lips. “...P- Please own me... P- Please shave me... my head and face... make me look like a dumb slut... s- sir... Your dumb slut..." Her shaky hand turned the razor on for him, pussy suddenly clenching around him as she finally acknowledged the pleasure it was receiving, a soft moan escaping her.

“Mmm... that’s my good slut” San hummed and praised, taking the now on machine and placing it against her hairline before running it down the top of her head, both of them moaning, Y/n from the feeling and San from the sight of the sight of now small bristles between her locks as his hips pushed in and out even faster.

The man now shaved off another strip from the spot besides the previously shaved one, humming as he remembered something and took the machine to her eyebrows first and pressed it against the skin, feeling himself hit her g-spot as her eyes rolled to the top of her head, mouth falling open as the male erased the hair above her eyes.

"Yes, s- sir! Please make me your good slut! I- I love you! I'll never leave you! Please never leave me, Master!" She started crying out of joy, kissing his hands as her unstable emotions made her feel absolute joy. He had accepted her as she truly was. In her darkest form. “Please write funny things o- on my skinhead when you’re done. I am a dumb whore!” To her, there wasn’t a man more great than him.

“Fuck yes… That you are.” San grunted as he started to shear the rest of her long locks like one would to a sheep. “You are my dumb little slut who will do nothing but serve her Master from now on!” His free hand landed a smack on her head which was showing up more and more, nothing but thin stubble covering the skin.

"Yes I will, Master! Please! Please treat me like trash!" Y/n clenched around him, near to cumming. “Trash that was born to take your cock! You're so good to me! I wish you'd snuck in my house this morning and raped me right there! I wish you'd have shaved my head and forced me to go to college like that! It would have been a pleasure to be humiliated like that and by you!” She was literally crying out of pleasure

“Oh..” The man chuckled while panting. “I will force you to go like this baby, don’t worry.” He promised as he snapped his hips even faster, feeling himself getting close from the sight and all her filthy confessions. “And I will wake you up by fucking you every morning, making you a mess and sending you off to college like that.” It was done, the only hair on the girl’s head slight messy stubble that he’d remove with a hand razor later to reveal the skin underneath.

"Yes, please! Please always only force me and rape me! Please keep me bald! Keep me at your feet! Please feed me your piss and cum! I want to be your hand and footrest! I want to be an object for you to fuck! A bitch for you to breed! Your little animal! I JUST WANT TO BE YOURS! I WANT TO BE THE DIRT UNDER YOUR FEET!" She was sobbing as she started cumming hard, her tiny body spasming in pleasure while holding one of San's hands because it was her first time cumming from sex.

Y/n wrapped her arms around him from the intensity of it and kissed him while he played with her tits, pinching her nipples painfully as he kissed the girl back and let her ride out her high before pulling out. “On your knees!” San kept pumped himself until he came all over the girl’s pretty face and mouth. “That’s my good little cumdumpster.”

She smiled and started to kiss his cock and hands in respect, then his balls. Y/n really had truly submitted. "You're perfect, Master! Where have you been all my life?!" A pout made its way on her lips as she whined, hugging his leg and kissing it, not daring to go further up out of fear.

San was satisfied with her behavior. “I’m here now baby… And I am never leaving.” He kissed the younger one and slapped her ass lightly after helping her get up. “Lets get cleaned, doll.”

"Master, I wanna drink your piss." She shamelessly told him, not standing up, taking his cum off her face with her hand and greedily sucking at it. "A- And I wanna kiss your feet!" She was way too eager for this.

The man chuckled at her request. “You want to drink my piss? Then open up, my whore.” San held his cock over her mouth before putting pressure on his bladder, whimpering before the hot stream hit her lips.

Y/n was obediently on her knees drinking all of it after cringing at the taste a little, moaning happily. It was her first time drinking anyone's piss. She was in heaven. She finally had an owner! The girl made sure not one drop went to waste. "Thank you so much, Master! It is amazing!" The younger one stopped drinking and let his piss wet her face before starting to kiss his feet, fully in her subspace.

“You’re such an obedient little girl.” San praised, not being able to hold back the smile as he watched her, never having imagined her willingly being like this for him in such a short time period. But then again, he wasn’t surprised. “Good girl.” He cooed patting her head.

Y/n desperately kissed his hand and grabbed it, starting to cry. "M- Master... everyone leaves me... P- Please don't leave me... I- I'll die!" She almost promised him, nothing short of a maniac. Maybe she was even more twisted than San, in a way

“I’ll never leave you, you’re mine and everyone will know that.” Cupping her cheeks, he passionately kissed her, already making plans in his head about how he will modify all of her features as his perfect little pet.

The girl giggled, sucking at his lips greedily. "Master! Your piss was on my face!" She tried to get it off. "Give it back! Ish mine!" Huffing, she lapped at his piss like a needy little bitch.

San chuckled from her antics and swiped his fingers on the pretty face before holding them up against her lips. “Open up…” He let her suck on the piss covering his fingers. “Fuck... you’re so perfect for me.”

Holding his arm like a child, Y/n started sucking on his fingers greedily, smiling. "Thank you, Master!" Before she made his fingers hit the back of her throat, making herself gag and loving it all. "Mashter Mashter! Whatsh your name?" The girl questioned while deep throating his fingers.

“It’s San, baby.” The man replied with a smile, watching her choke on his fingers, her warm drool trickling down his long fingers.

"Shan! Ish sho pretty! I am Y/n!" Letting go of his hand, she hugged him which was returned with a chuckle.

“I know, babygirl.”

"M- Mashter... I- I dunno why b- but... I- I shaw a video too a- and I want you to s- shove my shaved hair u- up my assh and i- in my mouth... a- and take picturesh... Hehe I am sho naughty!" His eyebrows raised as she hid in his chest, a smirk forming on his lips.

San patted her messily shaved head. “Yes. You are, baby. You’re fucking naughty but okay. Daddy is here to help his little girl with all her little disgusting whore fantasies.”

"Y- You wanna?" Before she chirped again. "Mashter I want to be owned like an object a-nd like an animal! I wanna be like a p- piggy! A- And I want you to b- beat me and whip me e- everywhere a- and I wanna be bruished! A- And I want to be raped all the time!" She was too fucking sick and twisted but now that she wasn’t afraid of being judged, she was letting all that was locked deep down out.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll treat you like one, baby.” San said before chuckling to himself, still in disbelief of just how fucked up she really was.

"A- And I want you to fuck my bummie and not let me cum for monthsh! I wanna be forshed to wear chashtity! I want you to make me cry and beg but you don't give in and only torture me more!" She told him. "Pleashe alwaysh shlap me and my head!"

“Fuck... you’re so naughty baby… I love it.” San almost moaned from the sight before getting a chunk of her shaved hair and shoved it in her mouth before getting his phone and taking pics of her all stuffed and messily bald like that.

The twisted girl smiled in the pictures and eagerly nodded, turning her fat ass in front of him now. "Please put hair in assh too!" She struggled to speak, smiling and posing for all of the pictures.

San actually wanted to take a video of him shoving hair up her ass and so that was what he simply did, laughing. “Look at this disgusting little dumb cock whore! So slutty and needy! Loving to be humiliated and looked like a dumb fucktoy by her owner!” He spat on her.

"Yesh I am! Yesh I am!" Y/n spoke with difficulty, showing her stuffed face and head too, arching her back, imagining herself a beauty goddess of her own kind. "My lobely mashter shaved me! And ish gonna treat me like hish trash and look! I habe hair up my assh! And in my fashe! I've got no eyebrowsh!"

“My good little slave… All mine… So submissive” San praised, kicking her ass in the camera and chuckling at her squeak, watching her clench the hair up when her pucker winked. “You’re really loving this, aren’t you?” Lifting her face, he spat on her forehead.

"I ammmm~" she whined, face red before starting to try to rub her cunt against the floor.

“Look at her trying to desperately rub her slutty cunts on the floor…” He filmed it all. Fuck. He loved seeing Y/n all dirty and submissive for him.

Drool was dripping down her chin and boobs. "Yesh Mashter! O- Onwy fow yoooouuu~" a needy whimper left her.

“Mmm... yes, only for me” San spoke and slapped her hard which the girl loved, getting even more wet and kissing his hands. "I- I... cum pleashe..." She whimpered again, loving the control she was in.

“No... get up.” San warned sternly. “You’re not allowed to cum, you’re never allowed to cum.”

"B- But... M- Mashter..." The girl pouted and whined, having forgotten that she was the one that told him that she wanted him to never let her cum and torture her like that.

“Are you talking back to your Master?” Raising an eyebrow, he gripped her chin before slapping her, making sure it was all being recorded so he could fuck her to it later.

Her pussy tingled. “N- No! No Mashtew owwiieee…” The hair in her ass and mouth tickled humiliatingly.

"That’s what I thought" San husked and threw the phone on the bed before pushing her on the carpet again. "Tell me when you’re close."

"M- Mashtewwww" Y/n started crying like a little baby, shaking and dropping the hair from her mouth because it was getting hard to breathe.

"Did I say you could drop the hair?!" The man growled darkly before pushing the hair back in. "Breathe through your nose, dumb slut!"

The girl let out a cry, trembling and sobbing as she nodded. He was rough. It was making her cry. But she also loved it and felt wet. "Yesh!" She loved being at Master's mercy.

"Good girl." He said pushing her down on the carpet more. "Rub yourself nice and hard slut." Y/n started rubbing herself as he ordered, feeling the carpet burn against her pussy but she couldn't help but love it, biting her bottom lip through her stuffed mouth. Oh… She loved it so much. The girl wanted it to bleed almost… Reaching out to hold his hand, the girl spoke. "You're sho perfect... I wish I'd m- met you when I wash l- little..."

"I wish that too baby, fuck... I’d fuck you every night while your parents were peacefully sleeping in the next room…"

"Y- You'd fuck me when I wash a little baby?" This was fucking revolting and twisted. They were both utterly sick. Y/n kept moaning loudly and getting wetter, rubbing harder and harder. "Y- Your fat cock i- in my toothlessh mouth... AHHH... I wouldn't need miwk... You'd have fed me your Mashtew milk fwom youw cock..."

"Fuck yes!" He growled as he felt himself getting hard. "Yes baby… I'd feed you my cum every day. You'd have grown up getting your nutrients from it, eh?"

"Daddy... Daddy... You'd be my Daddy? But inshtead of miwk you'd feed me youw cum evewyday? Ish the besht miwk!" She was very close and her eyes fluttered shut when he started playing with her tits and pinched her nipples before pulling at them. "Then I'd say I grew up drinking Mashtew's cock miwk! Hehehe!" The girl was too far gone.

"God, yes! You’re such a filthy and sick whore!" San knew she were close so he pulled her up. "No cumming!" It made the girl whine loudly and she fell on her face.

"Mashtewwwwww!" Before she curled in his feet, calming down a little when he didn't give in and ripped her pussy away from the carpet. "M- Mashtew... p- pleashe may I wemove haiw now...?" It was getting stuck to her mouth.

"Yes. You may, my little cum rag." The male wanted to use her mouth and feed her his cum so he allowed.

Y/n dropped it and quickly cleaned her tongue and inside of the cheeks with her tiny hands. "Bleg... hehe~" she curled in his waist, rubbing her tiny head against his chest.

"Good girl~" he patted her head before pushing her back in position. "Now use that mouth good baby…" San pushed his cock down her narrow throat, loving how tight and warm she was, making her gag from the rush of it in an instant.

The girl gagged but enjoyed it, loving it all. She quickly started sucking his cock, grazing her teeth against it and swirling her tongue. Y/n had watched all that porn for a reason. Kissing his balls, she sucked on them, whimpering from how his private hair tickled her nose.

"Fuck! look at you! Sucking on master’s cock like a starved bitch!" He slapped her again, feeling his shape against the skin of her cheeks. "You love it, don’t you?!"

"Yesh! Yesh! Yesh!" She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head up and down his shaft, sucking and whining as San rubbed the top of his foot against her pussy, smacking her bald head before pushing his cock all the way down her throat, tightly clasping the back of her head.

The man groaned loudly as he twitched in the soft walls of her throat, washing her throat with his hot semen before cleaning her up and finally shaving her head fully until there was nothing but glossy skin left before they went to bed.

"I have shchool tomorrow... Mashter do you go to shchool?" Y/n yawned as she snuggled into San's built chest, whimpering and smiling whenever the realisation of who he was hit her.

She loved being owned.

"No I don't. I will be right here when you come back, my pretty slut." San said while kissing her softly like he hadn't unleashed his sadistic likes on her.

"Why don't you go to school?" She suddenly pouted. "Then how will Mashter have a career?! You'll be poow! I dun wan poow Mashtew!" Y/n huffed brattily. She didn't really care about that, only wanting to see his response because she loved to piss off her top.

"You don’t really have a choice, sweetheart." The male gritted out. "You’re stuck with me forever. If I am living on the streets, you’re living with me."

She opened her mouth to brat but the bell rang. Rushing to the door, Y/n opened it to reveal a police officer. "Oh... hi..." The officer smiled a bit at her and asked the girl if she still needed an officer and why she had hung up when they called. "O- Oh no officer... I was just being paranoid... It wasn't anyone..." Y/n's cheeks blushed because she could see the officer was staring at her shiny bald head and eyebrows. Feeling herself getting wet as humiliation made her blush, Y/n found herself wondering what it'd feel like if he smacked her on her head. The girl's nipples got hard.

But oh... she couldn't cum!

"Okay then, be careful, Miss." He tipped her hat, nodding a little before walking off.

Y/n felt so wet. "Have a good night, officer!" A giggle left her as the man disappeared, starting to rub herself against the door up and down, running her hand against her head.

"Now, what was that?!" San deeply spoke, pushing the girl against the door, making her head hit against it embarrassingly. "Did you forget who alone can make you wet?!" The male yelled before slapping her. "You sick little exhibition loving whore! Not even you can do what you like to yourself! You're all mine! Only I can do whatever I please to your whore body!"

"Yes... You... You sir!" Y/n closed her eyes and held her hands above her head, lowering it for him to slap. "Please hit my head... Ugh... fuck me up... I want my head to be bruised... Ugh fuck! I am so wet... Please beat me!"

"What a disgusting little trash!" The man laughed, slapping her head this time. "You love people making fun of you, huh?"

"Yes I do! Yes I do!" She whined. "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make fun of me! Humiliate me! Hit me and bruise me! Make fun of me! Humiliate and degrade me! I want my whole college to laugh at me!" A loud cry left her.

"Let’s get you bruised up, then." San decided and started slapping the girl's tiny head and face until it was all red and sore. Y/n was crying by the time he was done, literally sobbing as she just fell on her knees and knocked out of exhaustion, her owner carrying her to the bed and then laying next to her knocked out form.

"Good night, my love." The male kissed her soft and red cheek before falling asleep too, holding her fragile body close to his, his slumber calm and satisfying today after so long.

.

Y/n stirred as she felt her pussy being invaded the next morning, making her stir as she felt lips upon her own and fingers pinching her nipples as her other boob was being groaped, her pussy expanding and sucking in a huge cock. San's huge cock. "M- Master~!" She whispered out when her eyes flew open and she was met with San's face. "W- What… s- so early?!"

"I promised you I'd wake you by fucking you every morning, didn't I, my slut?" He grinned and attacked her lips, eliciting an excited gigglish moan out of her as he started to fuck her fast and rough, pushing his balls in all the way.

“Y- Yes! Yes! F- Fuck!” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head from the realisation that he had been fucking her in her sleep before she woke up, feeling him twitch inside her. “M- Master! I- I… c- cum…” Y/n tried to speak, her back arching from the pleasure of him biting on her nipples before smacking her bald head softly.

“Little breeding whores don’t get to cum, baby. They just take cock and let Master use them like the cum rags that they are.” San’s cock slammed in and out of her pussy, his hand gripping her neck for support when she clenched around him. “Fuck! So tight!”

Tears welled up in her eyes as her face got red from how rough his thrusts were, how much her clit was burning for stimulation, how much her ovaries hurt to cum. “Look at this hairless little whore! Unable to even breathe without my permission let alone cum!” He spat in her mouth before turning her around and pushing up her ass, chuckling when she whined out.

“Sorry, slut. Little whores don’t get what they want around here and only please Master as they are supposed to.” Grabbing a sharpie, San started writing on her head whilst choking her with one hand, pounding her harder and harder up her ass. “Hurry up and please your Master well so we can go to an important place before you go to school.”

‘I am a bald little nasty slut. Please hit my head. I love it.’ Was written on the back of her head as the man laughed, deciding to not tell her what he’d done just yet, waiting for her to find out later when the people on campus would be warming that cueball up.

.

Y/n was whimpering as San waved at her and she shakily walked inside her college with a bald head, wearing nothing inside her skirt as she sneakily pushed the slipping ass plug back inside her cum filled ass. Lowering her bald head now that she was outside and people were staring at her new look, the girl gulped and felt herself squeezing her legs when some girl giggled at her.

Fuck… She couldn’t help but bite her lip, loving the humiliation as her cheeks felt hot.

Master had gotten her pussy, septum and nipples pierced before walking her to college. He was going to buy a special leash for that that was going to be passed through all her piercings to ensure she was in his control at all times.

Her train of thoughts was broken when a smack landed on her head by a guy passing by before he chuckled at her shocked expression. Before the girl could question him, she received a text by San. A picture message. Of what was written on the back of her head.

Widening her eyes, Y/n gasped and her hand automatically grazed against her head. No wonder the piercing lady had lightly smacked it before Master and she had laughed at the girl. “N- No… you didn’t…” She whispered in shock before one of her ‘friends’ smacked her head, making it jerk forwards.

“Cute look, Y/n.” Before she walked off to class, the people passing by gave her looks and talked about her.

Fuck… She squeezed her thighs in utter humiliation as the wind blew, making her desperately try to keep her skirt down as wetness trickled down her thigh. The girl wasn’t allowed to touch herself and not cumming was one of the rules now upon Master’s order and her foolish confession. She had a whole day to last before getting home and begging him to let her earn it.

Her ass stuffed, body owned, everyone silently chuckling at her humiliating look and getting smacks to the head like that wasn’t going to help.

“Oh, Master…” She whined to herself in despair. “What have you done?”

.

[shelbywanders]

Chapter 23: Infertile

So...let’s start from the beginning yeah?

February 2018, we found out the best news, we were expecting! With my past history, we thought for sure we would be trying for a while. So the fact that I was staring at a positive pregnancy test after just a mere two months trying to get pregnant was unreal. But 9 extremely long, tiring and definitely taken for granted months, out popped the greatest gift I’ve ever been given; my Adeline Mae! 

She was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, I know that sounds so cliche. She came out looking like her daddy’s clone (go figure) except for that sweet little button nose & I just couldn’t believe that we had made something so damn perfect. 

I won’t get into the details of being a new mum and all that jazz in this post, but of course, there’s a lot that goes on in the first year. But one thing that started to get on me and my husband’s minds pretty quickly was growing our family. When Addy was around 6 months, we decided it was time to start trying again. We always talked about having our kiddos close in age and at the time, we wanted lots of them. I had a hard pregnancy with Addy, but that didn’t change my feelings about wanting that big family I always dreamed of having with the person I loved. I have three younger brothers who are 10, 8, & 7. I’ve grown to love how close they are in age and wanted that for my kids too. Me and my older sister are 4 years apart and while we’re super close now, there came a time where we weren't. We’ve always envisioned ourselves with kids just a couple years apart, and get all of our baby making years out of the way so that we can then stop, relax and watch all our kids grow up together. Of course, plans don’t always exactly go as planned. 

I exclusively breastfed Adeline until she was 20 months. When we started trying, my periods had returned but weren’t regular at all anymore. So I started my TTC journey a bit different than I did back in 2018. OPK’s became my best friend and little did I know how many I would go through the next almost two years and counting. But they did help me learn more about my cycle and I grew accustomed over constantly peeing on things every day. 

We were super excited in the beginning, it always is. It’s fun, it’s sexy, it’s exhilarating. The two week wait is exciting as you anxiously wait to pee on some more sticks. The first few times of getting your period, of course it’s a let down, but you keep on keeping on because surely...it will happen soon! Until it doesn’t...

Around Addy’s first birthday which was around 6/7 months of trying I started to get that aching feeling that was new to me. Why isn’t it happening? Shouldn't I be pregnant by now? What are we doing wrong? In our grand plan of our life, I was wanting to be pregnant by Addy’s first birthday and that came and went. Sex wasn’t much fun anymore, I was tired of having to buy more ovulation tests and tired of squinting at clearly negative but also wait, is that a line? tests over and over again. But of course...we just kept trying, praying that next month will be our month. 

December came, month 7/8. I was so busy creating orders for my small shop and we weren’t hardcore tracking. We did the the deed once, the day before my birthday. Two weeks later, I realized I was late. Two days late actually. What?! This hasn’t happened before...grabbed the nearest test to me and finally. Finally. Two pink little lines. A faint line, but a line nonetheless! We were pregnant!!! I remember running to the store to get more tests because I have to see the progression, ya know, peace of mind. I stopped in the kids clothing section and spotted a cute “Big Sister” shirt and grabbed it. I wanted Addy to wear it out and see how long it took my hubby to notice what her shirt said. Unfortunately, she never got to wear that shirt and it’s stashed in the bottom of her dresser three sizes too small now. 

To keep it short and sweet, we lost our squishy baby that should’ve stuck around for 9 months and created a family of four just a couple of weeks after finding out. Instead, it started a whirlwind of emotions that I didn’t even know I could feel and a fight that we’re still battling to as I type this all out. Maybe one day I’ll make another blog about the miscarriage and all the feelings that came with it, just not in this post. 

At this point, here we are entering 2020 grieving the loss of what would’ve been. We picked ourselves up as much as we could and kept on going. Trying. Praying. Crying. Trying. Praying. Crying. We hit a year TTC in May 2020 and I felt a new level of hopelessness. Chapter 23: Infertile?... But how? I’ve gotten pregnant easily in the past, I’ve carried a baby, my body has done this before...what is wrong? 13 months TTC and we had the talk. The talk about trying to find answers and get some help. I set up a costly consultation with a fertility clinic in June. Our insurance doesn’t cover anything so of course, it was a big decision we had to make. While waiting for my cycle to start so that we could start fertility treatments, I had my first chemical pregnancy. So that was another heartache...moving on. 

August 2020, I have my first medicated cycle with my RE. I was on Clomid 50mg, triggered with Ovidrel and progesterone supplements after ovulation. The first cycle was perfect. Absolutely beautiful. I was ecstatic! My body responded so well to the meds and I ovulated at the perfect time and everything seemed great. Didn’t get pregnant, which sucked. $1200 in the hole, but hey! The meds worked. Let’s try again. Second cycle, same thing. My body didn’t respond at all. Nothing. Cycle cancelled...$1200 done the drain again. At this point the holidays were quickly approaching and our wallets were struggling so we put a hold on fertility treatments and we haven’t done any since. The month after we stopped, I had another chemical. That felt like a big ol’ screw you. 

Hold tight, you’re almost caught up! We’re nearing the end of 2020, thank GOD. That hellish year needed to leave STAT. January 2021. New starts, new chances. I had an appt with my primary to talk about what I have been suspecting to be the problem of our infertility struggles. And that’s when a diagnosis came around. PCOS. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. it’s one of the most common reproductive conditions in women and one of the leading causes for infertility. It runs in my family, my symptoms matched, I just couldn’t see it being anything else. As for Addy? I truly think we just got lucky. Blessed. I will never question it. I’m beyond grateful because I cannot imagine not having her right now. I started on Metformin a couple of weeks ago, a drug that helps treat PCOS. I also started a diet and have lost about 15 lbs so far! My motivation is because after this we will probably start doing IUI’s and I want to make sure I’m in good health so that are chances are as good as they can be. But of course...we are praying and hoping that it doesn’t come to that and by some miracle, we get pregnant naturally again before we go down that road. 

So there it is! You’re caught up. I didn’t go into many details on individual experiences because I knew this post was already going to be long. I just felt like a little synopsis of our TTC & infertility journey was needed before I continue writing about my experiences! I’ve felt pretty alone, even though I have people around me who care and love for me but they just haven’t gone through this so it’s hard to relate to anyone. I find writing to help. Getting it out there even if no one reads it. I am absolutely determined to make 2021 beautiful and I believe in every inch of me that our rainbow baby is coming to us. This month. Next month. Maybe at the end of the year. But I know it will happen...I can’t lose hope even if I wanted to. I’m hoping by sharing our journey, we can all find hope within each other. You’re not alone. I’m not alone. Our wishes will come true. Our prayers will be answered. As they say...even miracles take a little time. 

xoxo shelby 

[generallygenderless]

An AFAB genderqueer adult on JKR

Hey! In case you don’t have any of these tags blocked, I’m going to hide this under a read-more

So as some of us H*rry P*tter fans have been disappointed by recently, Judgy Karen Ranting has explicitly outed herself as a terf/fart recently, as opposed to being “hopefully only terf-adjacent”.

Well, I have some comments about her open letter that I want to address, myself. 

Warning: Not all of yall will relate to this at all. That’s alright. If you do, feel free to chime in.

This is explicitly about one part in which JKR states that previously, the majority of trans people were trans women, whereas now, it seems to be trans men, and the entire concept of Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria. 

I really don’t know whether to unpack this, or toss the entire suitcase, so let’s examine it: 

We’ve seen that historically, there’ve been people who were likely trans and whose identities were explained away. How many trans men were explained as “just disguised themselves as a man to achieve their goals”? Dr. James Barry, for example, who didn’t start living as a man until probably around 20 years old, and lived his entire adult life as a man, requesting to be buried in his bedsheets and pajamas so no one would discover that he was AFAB.

This is an interesting discovery, in my opinion, because it’s further proof that there have always been trans people. They just either lived very unhappily as their assigned gender, or lived as stealth as they could. 

In my own experience growing up in Miami, where there were a lot of LGB people I could’ve seen, I had a very odd understanding of trans people growing up. Up until I was 12 and started to consider myself LGBT ally, I didn’t know much about “that stuff”. That was also the same time my “hmm why does gender matter and how does it affect me” brain turned into “shitshitshit i don’t like how clothes look on me anymore” brain, and I started refusing the color pink and clothes I found too “girly”. 

I learned a little bit about trans people between 12 and 15 (pre-tumblr era, basically), and while I knew that there were trans guys and trans girls, to some degree, I basically felt that since I wasn’t a trans guy, I must be a cis girl. Then I joined tumblr and my first mutual reblogged a lot of LGBT stuff, and that’s how I learned about more LGBT things. first I found out I was asexual. then I started suspecting I was bi/pan-romantic. Finally, I began to question my gender identity. I started suspecting I was nonbinary. 

Had I know that nonbinary people existed when I was 8 or 9, I would’ve identified as such then. It took coming to terms with it, like, a lot. I had the same amount of friends before this as I had after (like 4, at this point), and there’s definitely a lot to be said on that topic. I knew exactly one trans person at this point. I’d felt weird about gender from the time I was at least 6, if not younger. 

This is definitely an issue I have with the idea of ROGD. In my entire time of identifying as transneutral, I’ve had exactly two people come out to me. One was a camp buddy at the time and we’d both secretly been on gender journeys at the same time. The other is my partner. Everyone else identified as trans before I knew them, and still do. I’ve had two friends revert back to she/her pronouns, and upon asking, they revealed they don’t identify as cis, they’re still nonbinary, but it’s too much of a hassle to deal with transphobes all the time. 

Additionally, of the two people that have come out to me, they both had gender issues starting pretty young. It was by no means late-onset or rapid-onset, but rather they’d repressed it until their options were self-destruct or come to terms with it. 

My friend group has absolutely queered itself up, and I’ve noticed that I attract people who are LGBT+ and mentally ill/neurodivergent (usually both). That connection between trans people and being autistic? Pretty sure that’s caused by the fact that autistic people have to yell so loud to be heard, so they’re more visible when they come out. As far as ADHD people (of which I’m pretty sure I am one), we can hyperfixate on LGBT topics and tend to know way too much about gender and sexuality. 

This queering of the group is not because we’re turning or pushing each other. We’re just drawn to people like us. We tend to like media we’re reflected in to some degree. We escape into similar fandoms. We like similar music. It just happens. 

And besides, JK, lemme ask you this: why in the world would I want to be nonbinary? Why would I think this is easier or more fun than being a girl? It’s really not. I have lost friends over my gender identity, I’ve been told off, and I have one friend who I had to avoid the topic with altogether. I’m not nonbinary because of gender roles; I am just as miserable being a girl as I am being a guy, no matter how gender-nonconforming that image may be. I know that girls can do or be anything, and I know the same is true of guys. If it was just a matter of mental illness or gender roles or sexuality, why would I open myself up to this? Why would I want to see your commenters or comments under people like me being told that we don’t exist or that we deserve to die? I haven’t gotten special attention, and I’m actively scared of being out at school. Why would I take a risk like that if I wasn’t reasonably sure that this is who I am? I have more reasons to not identify as nonbinary, in all honesty. The only reason I use that label is because it is me. It’s who I am, it’s who I’ve always been. 

And for the record, thanks to my PCOS, I only menstruate half the year at best. If I were cis, I would only be a woman half the year anyways.

Endnote: to all yall wonderful ladies, gentlemen, and bees out there, you’re valid. She can’t change your gender identity. No one can. Keep being yourself, and do your best every day. 

[joyalways98-blog]

PCOS: My story.

I began birth control at the age of fourteen. It started out with the Depo shot, which is a shot that goes into your backside and is supposed to last for up to three months. After my three months were expired, I didn’t want to get another one. I know you’re thinking that was dumb of me, but what you don’t know is within that three months I had gained weight, became irritable, and was more depressed than I was before birth control. Seven short months later I had fallen pregnant, I bet you seen that coming. Immediately after pregnancy, I got on another form of birth control, the Paraguard, a metal T that is placed inside of my vagina. I did not like that one so I got it removed and got the Nexplanon, a rod placed in my arm, that lasted for three years. As you can probably tell, I have been through it with birth controls, and I’ve done a lot of research to find if perhaps that’s the reason I suffer from PCOS.

When I was fifteen I’d gotten pregnant with my long term boyfriend, who I later married. We both wanted our children to be close in age, so when our daughter was one we began trying for another baby. I got my Nexplanon removed and was good to go. However, that was not my reality. From periods that were too short, to too heavy, periods that lasted two weeks to not at all. I didn’t think I was even ovulating. I took countless ovulation tests and not one came back positive ever. I didn’t want to see a doctor because every time I went they said I was too young to be trying for a second baby. Which is understandable, but we wanted our babies close in age. Pregnancy test after pregnancy test, we never seen that second line.

We’d been trying for over a year, and still no luck. Our daughter just turned two and I began feeling hopeless. At this point, our children would be about three years apart. I remember thinking if it doesn’t happen soon I don’t know what I would do. It ended up causing arguments between us as a couple and driving us away from each other. We were left without answers as to what was wrong. Was it him? Is he the reason I can’t get pregnant? Is it me? We just didn’t understand and it left us both frustrated, exhausted from arguing, and resentful. Which led to a divorce.

At this point, not only did I get married at 16, but I got divorced at 18. After spending hundreds of dollars on dollar pregnancy tests, I started to feel relieved but also more stressed. I began to worry how my daughter will ever have a sibling close to her age now? I had come to realization that I need to find a different man who is great for me and great with kids, so we can give her the brother or sister that all kids deserve and I’ve always wanted. Someone who is patient just in case I was actually the problem. Until then, I was back on birth control.

Finally after about a year, I had found the man of my dreams. A man who is literally everything I was looking for, great with kids, stable income, humorous, smart, honest, loyal. He was even the most handsome and attractive man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Sounded too good to be true to me too. Lucky for me, it wasn’t.

Seven months into our relationship, we had the talk and were ready for a baby. My daughter is almost four years old at the point and my children are going to be at least five years apart. Which was fine because by now, I had given up on the close in age method. I’ve matured and became more patient. I learned to love myself more and respected the decision that something could very well be wrong with me and I am the reason I don’t have another child.

I got my birth control removed July 10, 2018. We had been trying every single day for ten months. That means I had probably taken between ten to fifteen pregnancy tests at this point. Most women take a test if they show signs or symptoms. Not me, I’ve become obsessed with wanting to see that second line. It happened so easily the first time, I wasn’t even trying. Why doesn’t it happen again? I now suspected that I’m the reason for not having a baby because even in a new relationship I’m still left struggling.

April 29, 2019 I finally seen that second line. It was one of the happiest moments in my life. It was very faint so I knew it was still very early, but I was beyond excited. I bought an expensive test plus five dollar ones just to keep seeing that second line appear. I even told my daughter who was now almost five, and she was more than excited. Everything was finally coming together and life was perfect. Just two weeks later it was Mother’s Day and we started telling our families, me about pissing myself in excitement. It was a great time in my life. Until the day after Mother’s Day. Yes, a day.

To be honest, immediately after I had that positive test I felt something was wrong. It felt different than the first time, which led me to believe that I was having a boy. But it also felt off. Something was wrong and I knew it. Because of me feeling this way, it caused unnecessary stress. I had a pain in my lower stomach just a few days after finding out and began to worry so I went to ER to get looked at. They asked how far along I was but I still didn’t know. They did a pregnancy test and it came back positive, but when they did an ultrasound they didn’t find anything. When I say anything, I don’t mean they didn’t find anything wrong, I mean they didn’t find a baby. They said not to worry, I was just barely pregnant and gave me some blood work to check my HcG levels. Not only did they not find a baby, but they also found hundreds of cysts on my ovaries. This was the day I found out I suffer from PCOS and that is why it has been so difficult to get pregnant. I really do not ovulate most of the time. It was a relief to find this information out but a worry at the same time. I told my OBGYN of this experience and their findings and she did not act like it was a cause for concern, probably to try to ease my worry. Which for a couple days, it did. We began telling family and getting excited and planning our future.

The day after Mother’s Day, I had gone to get bloodwork done to check my levels again as the doctor requested. The doctor called me and said that my numbers have dropped and they would like me to come in. That day was the first of the worst two days of my life. A doctor told me with PCOS you’re more likely to a miscarriage and he thinks that is what is happening here. In his twenty plus years experience, these pregnancies that drop in HcG levels and do not show up on ultrasounds, result in miscarriage. He also said it’s quite possible the baby is stuck in one of my Fallopian tubes and if that’s the case, I could die if it bursts. However, for me to avoid the pains of going through miscarriage, or death if that’s the case, I can have a surgery done to remove the baby and it would be quick and easy with less pain and I’d be guaranteed a life to try again. I was left feeling scared and unsure of what to do. He let me take the day to think about it and discuss it with my partner.

The very next day I was in the hospital getting my baby removed, in tears feeling lost and hopeless. This is the worst emotional pain I’ve ever felt in my life, I was losing the one thing I’ve wanted for the past three to four years. After the surgery the doctor told me they found the baby and it was not in the Fallopian tubes. That message will forever make me wonder, was the surgery necessary then? If I would have waited, would the baby have been fine? Those are some of the questions I will never get the answer to and that doesn’t sit right with me.

As much as it pained me to move on so quickly, a few weeks later we began trying again. Except this time, I know I have PCOS. I know what articles to read and maybe I can find something that will help. I began reading other people’s stories which finally gave me hope again. These people also have been struggling and it may have taken years but they finally have their bundles of joy. There was a happy ending at the bottom of each article and that’s what kept me going. I’ve gone back to the doctor to ask if there’s something we can do to help me get pregnant and they suggested birth control may help but I honestly don’t think it would work. It never helped most of the ladies in the articles, why waste my time on it?

May 2019 I began trying for pregnancy number three. It is now December 2019 and I still have no luck. I read that exercise and a PCOS diet may help but I haven’t tried it yet. I’ve spent probably a thousand dollars in pregnancy tests in my lifetime and I just want to get that happy ending that everyone else has. If you can recommend something please let me know, I’d appreciate it so much. ❤️

[hirsuteandcute]

Hi there. I am thinking about getting laser hair removal on my chest (hair is fine, however apparently the dioide laser can treat fine hair). I am currently on the pill to treat my hormones, however am worried that the laser will make the hair grow back darker/thicker. Do you think it is worth the risk? XX

Hi! Truthfully it’s very uncommon, but not impossible. About 85% of women who have laser done have good results but there have been cases of the hair growing back worse, this is called “paradoxical hypertrichosis” (for those of you who want to bring this up to your technician before having laser done!). It’s not known exactly why this happens but a few things that might make a difference are; 

- The strength of the laser used. One of the biggest causes is suspected to be inadequately powered lasers. Any low-energy laser (below 65 degrees) will not destroy the hair follicle cells, and instead may stimulate the follicle. You should feel some pain during your treatment, otherwise it’s possible that the laser is not working to the degree it should, your technician should also be able to tell you the power the laser is running at when you ask them. 

- Untreated hormonal conditions such as PCOS or any condition which results in excess androgen will also stop laser treatment from working correctly, you’d need a treatment like the combined pill or an anti-androgen to treat any hormone released excess hair growth. 

-The colour of your hair and skin also makes a difference, the darker your skin is the more difficulty the laser will have in targeting the pigment in your hair follicle. The lighter the hair, the less effective the treatment will be altogether as there is little pigment in the follicle for the laser to work on. 

If you have any questions or concerns during your sessions, if you have questions you want to ask or simply don’t feel like the treatment is working as expected it’s so important that you take the time to voice your opinions openly and if you aren’t happy with how things are being explained to you or that your technician isn’t answering your questions in a clear and professional manner you are well within your rights to stop the treatment altogether and find somewhere better! Taking the time to find the best place for you to get the best results you can! 

As a side note it’s worth noting that IPL has much lower rate of this happening (i.e. it’s more common in laser treatments), so it may be worth looking into IPL as well, if it’s in your budget (not to dissuade you from laser). 

This is of course all worst case scenario, we’re talking like a 10% chance but it’s always good to come prepared and show your technician that you mean business and are prepared to do what’s best for you! Good luck! xxxxxx

Sources: 

https://www.refinery29.uk/2017/11/181791/laser-hair-removal-making-hair-worse

https://www.realself.com/question/can-laser-stimulate-hair-growth

[d20-eggroll]

blindbirdnerd

if they're a half orc, half orcs are notoriously infertile as well as half elves. sort of like how real life breeds between animals can't reproduce like ligers and mules. that's what i always thought anyway

Gabe is actually full orc! She is a particular type (ondonti) which might have something to do with it but her brother has a half-orc daughter. Time for me to ramble a bit on stuff only I care about weeeee! sorry aaa

Gabe is over all masculine in build so it could be a fertility affecting issue like PCOS or even something having to do with just how much physical trauma she’s gone through in her life (starting, coincidentally, during puberty.) That’s the lens I’m looking at this with for now- but there’s a possibility it is actually on Finn’s end too. Not that either of them want children right now but so much weight gets put on one’s virility by people even though it is none of their got dang biznis that there’s always that initial “feeling broken” to unwind and pick past.

In game information aside I also think my wife!DM wouldn’t want to dissect a very relateable problem for me and reduce it to a very unrelateable cause, especially since genetics are very much my wheelhouse and very much not so hers. She’s the math wife, I’m the natural sciences wife. Not that I would be offended but she’d feel like a fish out of water I’m sure and she’d probably worry about saying something insensitive or otherwise incorrect. 

She has pretty much set the campaign books we were following aside to do all custom and heavily character focused stuff so I wouldn’t doubt this is just her throwing in an emotional stake IF it is intentional. It is probably her gaining a knife unintentionally because she noticed my Oh Fuck moment and ran with it, as that is how the DM do.

Or at least that is how I DM and I kinda suspect everyone else does it too. Get an unexpectedly strong emotional reaction, incorporate the shit out of it. That’s how we ended up with two NPCs permanently part of the party, a halfling cannonballed through a second story window to avenge the party’s “dad,” someone dating a ghost, and the most concentrated outburst of sheer hate I’ve ever bore witness to because of the line “Safety first, mwop!” in her game. Lord knows there’s plenty such instances in mine.

[intersex-support]

i always assumed i had hyperandrogenism (not confirmed but several of my doctors suspected it and my mom is diagnosed with it) but some of the things my body does on testosterone are weird. like im on 70mg a week subq and my last blood levels were 218 (it should be at least 400) but my body responds to testosterone extremely well. i got every change very early, my doctor who manages my transition was really surprised by it. if it makes a difference i know i have a uterus and ovaries (confirmed via ultrasound and mri and i used to have an iud). i also had precocious puberty. ive only had one confirmed ovarian cyst so i dont necessarily think i have pcos, until recently i was assuming ncah but didnt pursue a diagnosis because of medical trauma and it not really causing me any problems now that im on t, its mostly just weird. i havent had my chromosomes tested or anything. does this sound like anything? thank you!!

Hey anon, this definitely sounds like it could be hyper-androgenism! We can't tell you for sure but it looks like you've done a lot of research and our blog has a couple things on our research page where you can look into the different variations that might fit.

I have met a lot of people also diagnosed with CAH who say they have had cystic ovaries, so if you are leaning towards PCOS because of the cyst then I wouldn't rule out (N)CAH. Similarly, I have hyper-androgenism and had a precocious puberty which is/can be a part of being intersex depending on variation.

Sorry for getting back to you a little late! This is about as much advice that I can give you right now but I do think you have a lot of good evidence to at least question things a little bit more.

[teachmixerofficial]

How Women With Infertility Are Similar to Trauma Survivors

The term "infertility survivor" came up during a Twitter exchange. The conversation was good for these two reasons:

It helped me rethink the term infertility survivor and decide on something else.

It pushed me to write on how outsiders see the emotional distress of infertility.

Tweeter @mominisrael, aka Hannah Katsman of A Mother in Israel, felt my use of the term survivor was "unhelpful." When I asked her for other suggestions, as I was open to new ideas, she wrote, "don't know, but while infertility is traumatic, it shouldn't be compared to cancer, Holocaust, etc." It's "not life-threatening," she said.

What Women with Cancer and Infertility Have in Common

I was taken aback by her response and assured her that I didn't intend to put infertility into the same category as the Holocaust or cancer survivors.

@mominisrael replied, "When I hear the term, I think of life-threatening events. I know you weren't comparing it."

However, research in 1992 found that women experiencing infertility have emotional stress levels similar to cancer patients and cardiac rehabilitation patients.

Regarding the research study, @mominisrael replied, "They couldn't study the dead ones. :) I'm not disputing the trauma, but still think it's a bad term."

Why Do Outsiders to Infertility Have So Much Trouble Understanding Us

This highlights the inability of those outside of the infertility experience to understand just how much emotional pain and stress is experienced when going through infertility. When having your own child is a struggle or actually impossible.

This isn't the first time I've had someone tell me they don't believe this research study could be accurate. I wonder if it goes back to the "Who Has It Worse, Who Has It Better" game, where we think we can judge another's distress or emotional pain.

I'm pretty sure that if you asked someone, "Which would you rather experience, infertility or cancer?" the majority of people would say infertility. Mainly because people want to live, even if their lives are difficult.

But this doesn't change the levels of emotional stress they may experience. A disease being life-threatening doesn't always lead to deeper depression or higher levels of stress. In fact, I know a few people who became life-lovers after cancer. Staring death in the face made them appreciate this world more.

When Your Genetic Life-Line Ends With You

At the same time, I know those suffering from infertility who had such deep levels of distress and depression that they considered suicide. And, sadly, some people do commit suicide from untreated infertility-related depression. So who could possibly judge "who has it worse"?

While infertility does not threaten your life, it does threaten your genetic continuation. If you never have biological children, your gene pool stops with you. It's a sort of death of the future generations.

I can't say how conscious we are of this aspect of infertility, but it's there. We are, whether we like to admit it or not, biological beings. Biological beings are programmed to create new life. 

When Your Friends Are Less Stressed, They Assume You Should Be Too

My point here isn't to prove to anyone that infertility can bring on the emotional pain levels of cancer. Research has already done so. I just am wondering out loud why so many people who have not experienced infertility have trouble considering that this may be true.

If we compare the stress levels of friends and family, those who love someone with cancer or infertility, I suspect it's much harder for the cancer patient's support circle. No one wants to see their friend die or visibly suffer during treatment.

On the other hand, as many fertility-challenged people know, friends and family rarely feel distressed over infertility in a loved one. The emotional (and physical) pain tends to be less visible and therefore, much harder for others to feel empathy towards.

Comments from Readers

Here are some comments readers have shared with me on this sensitive topic.

"I am a rape survivor. In that context, the word “survivor” is used instead of “victim,” to indicate that I lived, I healed, I have not let the rape define, control or destroy me. I have my life back, so please do not call me a rape victim anymore.

"Unfortunately, I am also one of infertility’s victims. Six years, two failed IVF, 5 miscarriages have wrecked my body and my mind. (Also my friendships, family connections, bank account, and nearly my marriage.) I cannot yet say I have survived infertility. Some days it feels like I won’t–my heart hurts so bad I wonder how it can keep beating. I go to bed at night and secretly hope I won’t wake up. I am in treatment but it is very, very hard to find hope. This is not a disease one can conquer with strength or determination; it is not an attacker you can fight off or run away from or call 911.

"I think the term “infertility survivor” is absolutely apt, and I hope to someday consider myself one."

"As with any term of identity, no one gets to choose for anyone else how they identify. Don’t like the term “survivor” for infertility issues? Great–don’t use it. But you don’t get to tell anyone else what they can or can’t use to define and describe their experience. To survive means to come through, to still be standing at the end, to make it. The agonizing battle which is fertility is certainly “survived.”"

"I am a cancer survivor who also suffers from PCOS and am infertile. I think you referring to yourself as a survivor is an apt description. I have survived my cancer. But I still must survive every day my infertility which is a much more difficult thing to have to face.

"With my cancer they could cut it out, I could take pills and undergo other treatments for it and the same goes for my PCOS.

"But there is nothing that can be done for my infertility and that destroys me more than anything I have had to face.

"With my cancer, there were many wonderful avenues of support and understanding that I could to turn to. Whereas with my inability to have children, everyone just blithely comments that we can always adopt.

"They don’t understand that that is not what we want to hear and it doesn’t make things magically better.

"You survive living with that sadness and emptiness every day. You swallow it down and paste on that smile when you have to go to your friends' baby showers and when they plaster those pictures of their children all over their Facebook. Don’t let anyone make you feel like your issues are less than someone else's."

"After reading this, you are correct in saying that people aren’t as empathetic or sympathetic regarding infertility.

"My husband went through leukemia when he was 18 – just after we got together. I was with him every day, and people were always asking how he was, if everything was okay, and all distressed. After a while though, they stopped being as concerned, they still asked questions, but the answer was the same as before – he is getting through it. The days are tough, and the nights also.

"And then recently, he got told he was infertile, due to the radiotherapy. It was a massive shock, as one of his life goals is to have his own children. When I told some of my friends, I had a very mixed emotion range. Between my two closest friends even. One said that they were heartbroken because they were thinking positively about the whole situation, and the other said to just keep thinking positively.

"I am not the one directly going through being infertile, that is my husband. BUT – none the less, it affects me too.

"When he was going through his cancer, he barely thought about it. The first few weeks were the worst, that’s when he was so upset about it, BECAUSE he was thinking about it. After those few weeks, it just became a routine for him. However, talking about infertility, he has basically ignored it because it's too painful for him to think about."

"This is an interesting take on infertility. I am both a cancer survivor and an infertility survivor and from my personal point of view, cancer that is treatable (though with terrible side effects) is a little easier to handle than infertility.

"My infertility was a direct effect of chemotherapy (I was 25 when I underwent chemo and I did not have children then). Living without hair and eyelashes was less daunting than what I am currently going through – the possibility of never having my own child.

"Somehow infertility hits a woman very hard... where it hurts. Also indirectly people start blaming you for being infertile as if you did something wrong to become infertile. Whereas, with cancer people mostly accept that cancer just happens (unless it's a proven case due to smoking or genetics, etc).

"Infertility is a huge issue for a woman. But end of the day, you are entitled to a happy life whether or not you bear children.

"Years of conditioning that women need to bear children is the root cause of this misery. Some people have ailing hearts, some have bad liver, some have tumours in the brain... so is infertility…It’s an organ or some hormone malfunctioning or being weak. It has nothing to do with how good we are or how bad we are.

"No matter how hard you try sometimes there’s only so much you can do about a thing like infertility. The better we accept that and we accept that one of our organs is just not in great condition, we can move on.

"If we love children immensely, we can try other means. We shouldn’t care about what others feel. Growing up a child is a massive project – an enlightening one. To a great extent, it’s going to ease the pain of being infertile.

"All of this struggle only makes you stronger and more empathetic. Each of us need to find ways to tackle the depression and lead a happy life.

"I guess with time, things will improve for women. The alarming rate of increase of infertility will necessitate action and thought."

Are you feeling depressed? Please reach out for help! 

More on coping with friends and family when trying to get pregnant:

12 Things Not to Say to Someone With Infertility

10 Things to Stop Doing if You Want to Support Someone with Infertility

How Can I Support a Friend with Infertility?

Should You Tell Your Friends and Family About Your Infertility?

10 Ways to Cope When Trying to Conceive Overwhelms You

Schwerdtfeger KL, Shreffler KM. Trauma of pregnancy loss and infertility among mothers and involuntarily childless women in the United States. Journal of Loss and Trauma. 2009;14(3):211–227. doi:10.1080/15325020802537468.

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Being 10 in 1999.

So, on a lark I started typing out my life story. I am about 10 at this point of the tale. If you are curious about anything previous to this part of my life, here is

So Rachelle was gone. This left a very big void in my life. For the first time since I was four years old, I was generally alone all the time. My school friends were just that, they never wanted to see me after school. They thought my house was haunted, and Samantha’s father and my father didn’t like each other. She was also forced to do hard labor and rarely got to leave her house to begin with. And she lived six miles away. And she really didn’t like me anymore so much as she tolerated me so there really wasn’t even enough to go on for me to even ask her to come over once in awhile. Catherine wasn’t actually a friend to me at all, and I more or less just tolerated her and ignored her most of the time since she seemed more interested in making animal noises than she did saying things. I had always resented her for taking Samantha away in second grade, and she was incredibly dishonest. I caught her lying once a day, and she stole from everyone who stayed at her house. And when there was an opportunity to do something mean to someone she would. I just didn’t like her. I have no resentments for her now of course. She had a rougher home life than I did and there was no way for me to understand that and have the much needed empathy to move past that. But it didn’t make her pleasant to me and I certainly never accepted her as a friend.

And Sarah-Mae I didn’t know very well. She seemed like royalty, we didn’t seem close at all. We rarely shared the same conversation. Her and Samantha were becoming more and more inseparable. They had a crush on the same boy named Kevin – and for some reason they both enjoyed obsessing over him, stealing his pencils and chewed gum as memorabilia. They liked the same Spice Girls and Ricky Martin albums. They really liked Lion King II. I didn’t listen to those things, though I do admit that I was quite a fan of Aqua’s ‘Barbie Girl’. They left little room in the group for me. I will just go out on a limb here and say that Samantha was trying to actively get rid of me. They were getting more and more exclusive. Sarah-Mae was even offered to eat lunch with the popular girls once or twice, and Samantha was hoping to tag along. Nobody wanted to be unpopular if they could help it. Except me.

Being alone again, having nothing in the real world to keep me entertained, I withdrew very deep back into my mind. I was so entrenched in my own imagination that I sort of stopped paying attention to anything. I started drawing again. I had kind of stopped for the years that I had been running around breaking and entering and tipping over garbage cans. Rachelle didn’t like drawing. I tried several times to get her into art,  but it wasn’t active enough for her, and she would look at my art and mostly feel jealous, which created a dichotomy that I didn’t feel right about, so I avoided drawing around her. Her older sister was a really good painter from what I remember as well. It is never fun to try something new and not only not be naturally good at it – needing more practice than other people, but also being surrounded by people who have perfected the craft. That’s sort of how I feel about music and singing in particular. I have always wanted to be good at music. I love music, a lot more than your average person. But I don’t try making my own anymore. I probably should, but when you surround yourself with musicians, and you just aren’t a natural, it’s hard to find that initial false sense of confidence needed to project you forward. And I imagine that is how Rachelle felt about art.

In my fantasy world, I began collecting pictures in seventeen magazines, mixed with alien pictures that were popular at the time. These scraps of paper were precious to me, and with the, I used them as inspiration to invent these stickish girls that were half alien. I called them Alien Girls – probably not the most inventive, but fairly straight forward. It was kind of my own franchise to an extent. I drew hundreds of them, each having a name that reflected their personal taste in fashion and personality. They were like Betty Spaghetti, Bratz, and actual Greys mixed together. They had big heads, and alien eyes that were kind of cute, but very spaced apart on the sides of their face, tiny noses, little mouths, and long skinny bodies, usually dressed in some ‘cool’ nineties reinvention of sixties fashion that was kind of popular in 1999. There is no way on looking back that their bodies functioned. I never drew them in action, or even posing. I just drew them standing looking straight forward. For the three years that I kept on drawing these girls, It was beyond me what their profiles must have looked like. I never even gave them cheekbones. I created them as a way to make up clothes that either didn’t exist or that I could never wear. They were sort of invented to address my obsession with UFO’s. And they were sort of invented to address the unrealistic beauty standards that were beginning to seep into my impressionable mind. I drew them on all of the assignment papers I got in school. They told me to stop, and I would not. I would get sent to the office, given detentions. I just saw this as more time to draw. It got to where when someone would hand me my homework, I would not even do the homework at all. I would just immediately look for the blank spots on the page and begin drawing compulsively. I became known all through town for these Alien Girls. I think people who weren’t even in school knew about me.

I also started watching a lot of Shirley Temple movies. At one point or another, I have seen every Shirley Temple movie she did as a child, but my favorites for sure were either Bright Eyes or Heidi. I think I got into this because Allison got so much attention for her curls, that were a lot like Shirley Temples. I, on the other hand had thick unmanageable fuzzy hair. I didn’t so much feel resentful. I just wished that my hair would get curly. Strangely enough, it did start to curl. For this reason, as well as others, I have felt that we can sort of project onto ourselves the faces and looks of people we admire. Particularly when we are young. Not to say that you can look like anything you want, but if you stare admiringly at a certain kind of face, your face will start to morph more into that kind of face to the extent that your face can do that. Anyway, I digress.

Thirdly, aside from Alien Girls and Shirley Temple, I kept myself busy with food. Having the misfortune of being born to be genetically predisposed to gain weight for anything I eat ever was unfortunate for me, on top of  misfortune of being born into  a life where the accumulation of hardship left me to using food as a coping mechanism to begin with. I was unfortunate in this way, and it will always have a stamp on me psychologically. I have PCOS, and this is usually the age when PCOS begins to affect girls. It caused me to gain weight to an extent for no reason at all. I was eating very little for all the time my mom and dad had moved out of the house, and I rode my bicycle about five hours a day. There is no reason an eight year old should be getting fatter as active and starved as I was. But it was happening, slowly at first, and then all at once. Rachelle left, and all the neglect from my family, and anxiety at school and loneliness hit me at once. PCOS affects your appetite as well. You will be full, but your brain just keeps that to itself, like an asshole. So being a child, especially one like me who’s head was in the clouds when it came to matters that were practical, I just felt like eating all the time and so I did. It was one of the few comforts I had really. I didn’t get enormous exactly, but my friends were all tiny so I personally felt huge, and compared to them I kind of was. I seem to always have tiny friends. They were still 85 lbs. I was 130. I was another half of them. And we were all getting to the age where we had to start seeing things like identity, size and shape as mattering a whole lot.

One day, for reasons that I have no memory of, I was watching some boys in my class playing football, and I ran out there and attempted to punch one of them in the face. I think someone might have told me that the boy was attacking them, and I felt the need to defend them. However, this kid, James was his name, really could not have done any of the things he had been accused of because he was playing football all recess, and he wasn’t really the type to bother girls – so I suspect I chose to take a completely fabricated statement to heart and use it as an excuse to do something exciting. So I guess I got super defensive of 'my group’ (the one that would not even hang out with me after school0, and I ran out into the field, while a game was going on. I attempted to attack this James kid (I must have looked completely foolish), with everyone watching me. He put his elbow up in defense, and I ran right into it and it gave me a fat lip. Everyone was confused. I was confused. I think I decided in my mind that James punched me, but that’s not what happened. He was just trying to fend off some random person who decided to attack him during a football game.

This did not help my case at being outcast even further from the social order of my school system and peers. It had started when Roxanne got pregnant, and then I had lost my stellar grades when I stopped doing homework when I had no adults in the house. Then I started getting chubby and filling out a little bit before the other girls in my class. Then I started drawing all the time. And my friends all became boy crazy and wanted to be popular, and I didn’t. And it seemed that I related to my environment differently than everyone else. And there was something else. Since I have been about six years old, I started getting extremely depressed. I stopped being that depressed for a few years, but when I was alone by myself or felt misunderstood – which was often, I would get this stabbing sense of meaninglessness, a sense of self worthlessness, and I wanted to kill myself. I started writing secret suicide letters when I was seven years old. I would hide them under my bed because if my family found out I would get punished. Between the ages of seven and fourteen, I had hundreds of suicide letters that I never did anything with. I would have to periodically throw them out, but they would always fill up again under my bed. This was really difficult for me in a way I cannot explain. When I am down now, I know that it is a mood that will pass. I know that having a sense that I am hated is a bit of a mirage my brain makes up. I had no idea then. Everything that happened to me seriously wrecked me.

When I separate my mind and body now – as I think most people can do if they close there eyes and clear their thoughts, I can feel this underlying humanness that is ugly and terrifying. There have been a few times that I have been drunk or once on hallucinogens where I felt like I could almost see the inner workings of reality, like it was a blanket I could rip off the wall. What becomes more clear than anything, is that I am not who I think I am, and the world is definitely not as I think it is. This underlying reason behind everything that happens is not built from godly goodness, or from great evil. It’s this cosmic chaos that I can barely comprehend, and it brings out all that is needy and desperate in me. And underneath that, I try to understand what motivates this inner animal that is the core of who I am, and what I can place and understand of what lies under my motives, feelings, sense of everything around me is something vast and dark and not fully meant for the human mind to understand. I am not at peace with it. This is the human condition, and I don’t know that anyone really is. It’s wisdom, but it’s also death. And from a very early age, while my friends all played on the monkey bars, It just started creeping up on me early. It made me self aware – and different. It left a mark on me. From this point onward in my life, I suffered with this great crack in the facade of the world that made me feel unloved and empty. That was my way of comprehending the world. As an adult, I consider this subtle aching pain a friend of mine. I fight it to a degree, and try to live on my own terms, but I also know that it’s not going anywhere and eventually I will grow weak and die and what comes next is either nothing or a great big mystery I cannot even begin to understand. And I realize that most of the greatest works of art, the things that really reach into me and make the magic in my head work, all of that inspiration comes from that bleak dark underlying sea of cosmic chaos, and to a degree, the world we live in is not real the way we believe it is. It’s better to embrace it than to pretend it isn’t there. And sometimes I even think it’s helpful.

Something in me at this point was derailing, or emerging out of me. I started talking to myself at the bus stop waiting for the bus to take us to school. I just sat down on a rock about twenty feet away from everyone else and began having a conversation. With myself. This caused the other kids to talk about me, or make fun of me. I didn’t notice too much. People just didn’t seem that real to me anymore. The activities in school didn’t seem very enjoyable. I think teachers tried to tell my parents. I don’t remember how I talked exactly, or even what the back and forth of the dialogue even was, though I do remember having some genuine conversations with myself that stuck with me all day, and none of it was for attention. I felt a lot better after I had had a good heart to heart to myself.

I also began having nose bleeds that the school counselor felt were stress induced. I usually would start having a nose bleed at least four times a week. I remember once in fourth grade I was sitting at my desk, and I had my head on the table in my arms as I was blocking out the school environment to daydream. The teacher called my name strictly to get me to pay attention to the class, and when she did, a massive pool of blood was on the desk. It was pouring down my face and onto my shirt. Everyone was shocked. I hadn’t even known I was bleeding. I hadn’t picked my nose or anything. I was just something that happened a lot.

My parents broke up for good this time. People might disagree, but I really don’t feel like this was the cause of my nosebleeds or my self worth. That stuff was just something I had always had in me personally, and had merely decided to show it’s face to the world around the same time as my parent’s divorce. I think that my parent’s relationship has certainly left it’s mark on me to an extent, but I don’t think my problems stem from this element of my parents. Individually, I have had problems with them, but together they really were more annoying to me than anything. I did not thrive in their undying love they did/or did not have with each other. I remember feeling somewhat relieved that they had finally thrown in the towel. My mother I guess was secretly still on again off again with Huleo on the side, and her friend Germaine (who I will discuss later) had advised that she hook up with my father to see if she could get more money from him. She even faked a burglary to get away with keeping some of the valuables.

My sisters had gotten my mother into meth. It was strange, but Maria and Roxanne had decided that their own drug addictions could be fed more easily if they could get my mother personally invested. My mother has always been very spongelike. She takes in whatever the people around her are doing. Her core identity is childish confusion. Due to my mother’s own bad upbringing with a cruel father, she never really grew up. A part of her is still an eight year old girl. So it was very easy for my older sisters to fool her into taking drugs with them.

Roxanne’s grandmother on her father’s side died around this time. She had been very old. It was a day I remember oddly well. I remember the way the clouds looked, and the way everyone was dressed. It was the first funeral I ever attended. I had not known her well. I was dressed up and I sat through the sermon. Everyone was crying. It made me teary eyed. But mostly I was fixated on the fact that Roxanne’s grandma Abel was laying out for everyone to see. I just stared at that dead body the whole time.

I was eating a lot, but there were also short periods of time where I would phase out and forget to eat for a few days. There was one time where I distinctly remember forgetting to eat for three days without realizing it. I found a bag of those little saltines you put in your tomato soup and I ate the whole bag. Then I threw up the whole bag because my stomach was shocked by the food. This happened the first week at the new weekend home in Clarkston WA. I had chosen to stay primarily with my father for obvious reasons. My mother had moved in with her friend Germaine, and I was to stay with her on the weekends.

Germaine lived in a very large unfinished home with five bedrooms. The set up of the house is very hard to explain. It’s like a very rich couple moved in and then started remodeling but then stopped. There were two separate upstairs that were supposed to be connected but were not. One side of the upstairs you could only get to with  a ladder. Germaine never had food in her fridge. She generally began drinking as soon as she woke up in the morning. She didn’t pay for garbage services. Instead she would take the bags of trash and throw them into an unfinished cement swimming pool in the back yard. It was such a disturbing sight. There were old computers, washing machines, countless bags of moldy food waste. I am pretty sure it was illegal. She was very loud, and she had a scratchy voice that sounded like the wicked witch of the west. She was really into Stevie Nicks, Dr. Hook and Steve Miller. Everything tacky about the seventies Germaine loved. She watched the movie Beaches every weekend with Bette Midler. I have seen that movie over 100 times, I am sure of it because of her. The house always smelled like mothballs, and there was always a skunk underneath the house somewhere that often smelled the place up.

Her son Brice would show up for the weekends. He was very hyperactive. I wouldn’t say he was a bad kid exactly, but he was a bit of an asshole if my memory serves me well. He tried to come onto me the first weekend, which disturbed me. He asked me for sex, and we were eventually in a situation where I kicked him hard between the legs. It was a game, and I wasn’t really aware that it really hurt boys that much. But he didn’t like me very much after that. He did however always invite me to help him create the ultimate go-cart. He was obsessed with making go-carts. And Brice had a brilliant mind for a fifth grader. He actually did make an electronic go-cart using scraps from the pool. He would climb into that jungle of filth and come out with scraps from random appliances. This bored me to no end so I stopped participating sooner or later. He also had this monkeyish looking friend named Justin who would not stop asking me out. I was very rude to him, but he didn’t get it at all.

Germaine would sometimes fight with Brice. Often he was being a little brat, but there was a time I remember where she took his head into the cupboards and began slamming his head with the door as hard as she could. Their fights were disturbing and abusive.

I had some very rough nights there. At first, everyone was too drunk and high to give me a place to sleep. There were not enough blankets for everyone. I ended up sleeping on cold concrete. I had cried, but my mom would do nothing about it. Allison found a pile of clothes to sleep in. She was still somewhat of a toddler and I don’t think this bothered her as much. David always slept in the bed with my mother. There was a shortage of food initially. My mother showed no interest in feeding us. She always got food for David, however. They would go to McDonald’s, and Allison and I would just have to figure it out. Maria came to live with my mother and Germaine as well. And she would take the food and blankets. She was pregnant with Earl’s baby, but she had broken it off with Earl. Earl initially was supposed to move in as well, but they had fought and broken up. For the time that he had been there, he kept this disgusting cup of old chew that he spit. It filled up to the top full of tarlike goo. One day, Allison came up to me as a toddler, and she had black all around her little mouth. She kept saying she wanted more yummies. I could not figure out for a moment what it was she had gotten into. And then I found out. She had drank all of Earl’s tobacco spit in the cup. It was probably the grossest thing I have ever witnessed. It makes me want to gag now. She had no idea since she was just a baby.

Eventually they gave me the loft, which was one of parts of the upstairs only accessible with a ladder. I don’t remember why I was so fortunate. It was a nice place for me to get away from everyone. It was a very strange room perched 20 ft above the rest of the house. It was in this dank little room where I began appreciating music. There was a dumb little alarm clock radio in there. At first I didn’t know how to use it, so I was stuck listening to country. But then I learned how to listen to different stations. I quickly became obsessed with the radio. I would sit up there for hours, drawing and filling up notepads. The music I was listening to wasn’t that great to me now, but at the time it was the best. I remember being up there listening to that Aerosmith song that was done for the movie Armageddon. There was also a grand piano where I would play You Are My Sunshine over and over. Usually Maria would make me stop since it was interfering with her soaps. So then I would always move over and play on the Windows 92’. Which I was extremely impressed with.

Maria would eat all the food at first and there was never anything to eat. Germaine had one of those big wooden television sets. We only got one channel. It was the channel that all the soap operas played on, and Friends. Maria would watch television all day and eat all the food. My mother was always either working or at a bar called Smitty’s Barrel. She came home to see my little brother, who was beginning to be kind of a spoiled tyrant in his own right. Maria would often yell at me. She became very abusive to me in general and difficult to live with. She blamed me for everything she felt my father had ever wronged her for. One time she locked me out of the house when it was 105 degrees for nine hours without food or water. I had no shoes, and the town of Clarkston is completely overrun by devils-weed since the area was very arid and dry. To find shade, I had to walk across a field of this stuff, and my feet were bloody by the time I got to the shed to hide. Every weekend I would dread Maria’s pregnant wrath.

Roxanne, her baby Sagen, and her new boyfriend Jody had moved in as well. It was a very full house. Jody and my sister Maria eventually got jobs at the local KFC. After that, they always brought bad KFC food home. My mom had found a new boyfriend. Huleo left her shortly after she broke it off with my father, and then she dated a guy named Shane for awhile. But he could not stand sharing my mother with my little brother either. My mom got involved with this guy named James. People called him Jimbo. He was about 4'5. He had hair down to his knees. He was a drummer in a do nothing concept band that aspired to be the ultimate eighties christian heavy metal band. James was generally unemployed. He always smelled like sweat and hot sauce. And he was always completely stoned. My mother got involved in his band. She started having these corny visions that the band was going to bring about biblical apocalypse. And all these dumb corny eighties guys took her seriously. In her mind, the four horsemen were coming. And when they did, their band – which never had a name would be playing as demonic storms rose against them on a mountainside, and God’s hand would come down and shelter them from the devil’s malice. She felt that the band’s existence, that her own personal existence, had been prophesied in the bible somehow. My mother wrote these semi horrible lyrics. They weren’t actually horrible. They were just what they should be. But the whole thing was so awful. It became this big thing that everyone in the house had to take seriously. It would not have been as bad had they actually practiced, which they didn’t. And the whole thing was a way for them to pretend to be devil worshipers but pretend that they were doin’ it for Christ.

Eventually the singer, Chris moved into the place too and started dating Maria. He was this big caveman. He smelled horrible. He changed his underwear once every two months and he was proud of this. And when he wasn’t sleeping or eating, or trying to sing like Dio, he would take this stuffed animal Barney the Dinosaur that belonged to my little brother and pretend to fight with it on the living room floor. It was disturbing. I would walk into the living room, and there would be this full grown man in his late twenties on the floor screaming at this stuffed animal, wrestling it wildly like it was fighting back or something. His pants would be falling off he was so entangled with this dumb fake fight, and his hairy butt would alarm me.

My mom got about 40,000 of my father’s savings from the divorce. From that, she wasted most all of it. She bought a lot of tasteless items that she never used. I think most of it went to drugs. She bought the band a bunch of speakers. James trashed them and carved upside-down crosses all over them. She bought herself this white Camaro that she ended up having for quite awhile. We eventually named it The White Bitch later on when Allison, David and I were older. Most all of it went to complete waste though.

My mom and Germaine had these horrible parties with thirty or so people. This really bothered me. It was hard to sleep over all the screaming and noise. I know parties can be fun for people, but I had to deal with so many of these parties as a child that I kind of grew resentful of loud parties in general, even to this day. I try very hard not to be critical based on my own personal experience, but the people were completely tasteless. I would wake up in the morning, and everyone was passed out all over the floor. There were piles of vomit everywhere. Later on, overtime, I learned to pickpocket loose change from these drunkards spread about. But at first it was extremely disappointing and shocking to me.

I think these parties did hurt my relationship with my mother what little was left to salvage. I was not nearly as callous then as I am now. Eventually, as the parties became more and more extreme, I would get really upset, because I wanted some stability. I never saw my mom at all, and nobody liked me at school or at home. These seven or so adults were all sitting around the table getting hammered, and I came in and begged my mother to stop drinking. She laughed at me and told me I was not her daughter. Her friends started calling me fat and ugly. I started crying. I tried to get away from them but they followed me, my mother being one of them. I was sobbing uncontrollably at this point. Between sobs I told them all that I didn’t want to be alive anymore and that I was going to kill myself, and they all laughed very hard, my mother being one of these mindless idiots. They told me I should do it. That it would make the world a better place. This traumatized me. I think I cried for eight hours straight very hard till I eventually passed out. After that, I just felt numb. I felt like my thoughts were stuffed with cotton, and there was a certain ringing in my ears everywhere I went. I wasn’t really the same after that experience. I don’t think I was able to process the situation correctly being nine or ten at the time. I truly believe that synapses happened in my brain that night that altered me forever.

On the bright side, Maria got a puppy. James used to watch Conan the Barbarian all the time in his stuffy little room and there is a character in the movie named Crom. He thought it would be really edgy and cool to name the puppy Crom. Crom became my puppy eventually since Maria didn’t want him anymore. And like most things I like, Crom became a fixation. Eventually, I got the dumb idea to take the puppy up the ladder with me so he could be up in the loft with me. I managed to push him up the ladder. But he was not happy up there, in fact, I think it made him become panicked and disoriented. I think it confused poor little Crom. He ended up jumping off of this place where there were no railings. He fell and broke a bunch of bones in his body. I watched the whole thing happen in shock. Maria came in and was screaming at me that I was a murderer. The whole scene was too awful. I thought I had killed another pet dog, for the second time. He ended up going to the vet, and getting fixed up.

When things became too much in the house. Sometimes I would go outside, and I would begin digging up massive ant homes under the dirt. I would sometimes spend endless hours out there studying ants. I decided that I didn’t want to be an artist, a ballerina, a comedian, a playwright or a cartoonist. I just wanted to tear societies apart. As I studied these ants, I really got the feeling that society itself was like ant colonies. And it fascinated me. I had no control over my real life or the people in it at all. I connected with nobody. But I had these ants. They were mine. I could learn to control them and manipulate their simple little lives. Or i could bring food for them and help them rebuild. I was their version of God, or the Devil, whatever i felt like being. I liked inspecting what motivated the ants. I created all sorts of social experiences to see how the ants would respond. I transported some ants from one place to another, to see if they would make their own hives. In this weird way, I think in my mind I felt like I was doing this with people. It gave me perspective.

These were bad, gross, ugly, embarrassing, empty meaningless, cold hard times for me. And sadly ,they were just the beginning.

If you would like to read the first three parts to my life here are these links - 

Part 1

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/160186590059/about-me-life-story-part-1

Part 2

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/160333575899/life-story-part-2

Part 3

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/160399693214/about-me-the-third-part-i-did-it-after-all

So without further ado..

[wideislandblues]

Yesterday was amongst the worst days. And this weekend is amongst the worst weekends. I woke up Thursday with noticeable pain in my left ovary, and chalked it up to a standard cyst. Realistically it was 2-4 out of 10. Once it was still there on Friday, I decided it was time to finally get diagnosed with an official issue, like PCOS, so I wouldn't have to be bothered so much anymore. After 2 hours of waiting, the doctor barely touched my stomach and said there was nothing out of the ordinary. He was skeptical I needed an ultrasound and the nurse chewed him out in the hallway until he agreed that I needed it. It wasn't going to happen until Tuesday. Well, less than two hours after rushing back to work from the appointment, I was teaching and I had to excuse myself. Everything was white and my stomach was hot. I completely drenched my two shirts with sweat within minutes. I thought I was going to puke. I'd say 9 out of 10. With 10 meaning I've passed out from the sheer pain. I was close. A coworker found me, and I agreed to let them call 911. I was having such terrible chest pain. I assumed I was hyperventilating or something. My right lung was spasming and kept me from breathing more than fast, panicky breaths. The EMT kept assuming I was pregnant (I assured him that unless this was a case of immaculate conception, that I was far from pregnant) and that i was just freaking myself out. He kept telling me to breathe deeply and relax, and I just no??? My class finished in the meantime, so my students were just out in the hall with wide eyes and worried. I shot them a shaky peace sign and said dooo your homeworrrrk, as an attempt to joke. They probably didn't find it so funny hahaha After we got to the hospital, the halls were full of patients, so I got turfed to the regular waiting room for 4 hours, and the lobby nurses wouldn't let me drink any water until I saw the doctor. What a brilliant use of an ambulance. A lot of my coworkers rolled through. They're fucking amazing. I mean, they all tried come bring me food today and check up on me. Around 7pm I was called back, and they order a chest X-ray and abdominal CT. Turns out, I have an 11cm mass on one ovary (about the size of a grapefruit) and a 4cm mass on the other. I'm so fucking mad at the negligent doctor from that morning. The ER doctor is not sure what caused them to suddenly freak. I think one may be leaking a little, because there's loose fluid in my abdomen. I definitely look a little pregnant now. I have to schedule a biopsy on Monday, so they can determine whether or not it's cancer. Hopefully they just remove the masses while they're in there. They ordered a chest CT to see what's up with my breathing. They seriously suspected a pulmonary embolism, because if the masses were releasing blood loosely into my body, it could be releasing clots. Which, we're way too young to be having strokes, so that seriously freaked me out. Luckily that was not the case. It's an infection, usually tied to pneumonia, but for some reason I have it without the pneumonia? It could have been triggered by the freak out though. I was finally released around 3 am, with a prescription for high strength Motrin and tramadol. My mom drove us 20 minutes away to the closest 24 hour pharmacy to fill it and take me back home. Everything hurts. I can't completely lay down because it stretches my lung out too much. And I can't easily sit or move. Coughing or laughing or burping causes my lung to spasm, so I've been confined in this sad body tomb until the inflammation goes down. I've been eating soft foods because I'm honestly scared to poop. When I pee, it takes upwards of five minutes to even stand and reach the bathroom. Then my bladder emptying causes an excruciating shift in those loose fluids. Can you imagine pooping in that nonsense?? Noooo thanks. I don't care so much if they need to take the ovaries. I have no plans or aspirations to have my own children. Besides, adoption is rad. I just don't want to have cancer, because who the fuck does? I don't want to do chemo or radiation, and I don't want to always be scared of it coming back in other areas. With this, and my dad dying in November, being 26 has blown hard. I'm trying to keep in good spirits since November. I've been doing yoga and meditation, guided by a Buddhist monk and everything. I've let a lot of my fears go about death and aging, and have been trying to live a more fulfilling life. So far so good. But the threat of cancer while 100% managing my father's estate (bills, landlording/slumlording, filing the insurance claims, and keeping up 3 vehicles and two houses) are an overwhelming combination. I just. Fuck. Can't I catch a break? Today, a friend was nice enough to bring me some soft foods. Mashed potatoes, apple sauce, and a smoothie. She sat on the couch for three hours while I tried to nap. She refilled me water, helped me stand and sit, and helped me change my clothes. I would have been such a hard day without her. I'm so grateful. Day Roommate has heard me cry and gasp on the other side of the house. He'll text me and ask if I need anything. Every time before he left for somewhere he'd ask me if I wanted him to pick something up. Then after I took my meds for the evening, he turned on all of the white Christmas lights we have in the living room, turned off the overhead lights, and put on some pleasant music. He did some work on his computer while I drifted in and out of sleep for two hours. It's the best rest I've gotten since coming home. A couple of times my lung spasmed, and he would quietly ask if he could do anything for me. Later he turned off the music and I said "bed time?" And he said "bed time." I'm definitely lucky to have such good and concerned people in my life. My coworkers are all trying to stop by with food, and my bosses were texting and trying to get me some takeout. Hopefully tomorrow things will be just a smidge easier. That's all I want.

[lauramalchowblog]

3 Common Skin Conditions and What to Do about Them

“Love the skin you’re in,” so the saying goes. Sometimes that’s easier said than done. Skin conditions, ranging from mildly irritating to painfully debilitating, are ubiquitous nowadays. Even mild-to-moderate symptoms can take a serious physical and emotional toll.

I started thinking about skin the other day after a bout of nostalgia had me revisiting old reader success stories. Going through the archives, I was reminded how many readers reported that their acne, psoriasis, eczema, and other skin conditions were “miraculously” resolved after going Primal.

I’m not surprised. I’ve always believed that there is a deep connection between skin health, gut health, and inflammation. The Primal Blueprint is designed to support a diverse, well-balanced microbiome, reduce chronic inflammation, and provide epigenetic signals that optimize health. It makes sense that clearer skin would be one of the benefits.

As I perused the success stories, it occurred to me that it’s been a while since we talked about skin issues here. Today I’m going to cover three of the most common, along with some alternative (non-pharmaceutical) approaches to addressing them. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not judging anyone for opting for pharmaceutical options. However, many conventional treatments—antibiotics, oral steroids, hormonal birth control pills, and isotretinoin (sold with brand name Accutane)—have serious, sometimes downright scary, side effects.

Given that, I know many of my readers are interested in diet and lifestyle interventions that might help. They won’t fix all your skin issues, but they’re bound to improve some aspects of your life, even if your skin doesn’t clear up completely.

Acne

Acne is widespread among adolescents and adults. The most common form of acne is acne vulgaris. You’re undoubtedly familiar with the characteristic whiteheads and blackheads usually found on the face, chest, back, and shoulders. Cystic and nodular acne are severe types of acne vulgaris involve large, deep, painful blemishes that take longer to heal.

Acne doesn’t have a single root cause. Sebum (oil) production, pore blockage, bacteria (Propionibacterium acnes), and inflammation each contribute. Androgens increase sebum production, and hormonal changes due to puberty, menstruation, pregnancy, PCOS, or menopause often lead to outbreaks.

As common as these skin issues are today, they are not an inevitable part of the human condition. Grandfather of the ancestral health movement Loren Cordain asserts that acne is basically unheard of in traditional-living societies.1 This strongly suggests that modern lifestyle factors that affect epigenetics, inflammation, and hormones, underlie much of what we see today.

What to Do About Your Acne

Because acne is multifactorial, there is no single magic pill for acne. Sufferers may try a variety of topical, pharmaceutical, and lifestyle interventions before (hopefully) finding the key that works for them. It can take trial and error, luck, and time. There are also a lot of old wives’ tales that send people down all sorts of rabbit holes looking for answers. Many fall into the category of “can’t hurt, might help.” A few are actually backed by science:

Diet

Many supposed dietary causes of acne aren’t substantiated by research. (Chocolate doesn’t seem to cause acne, thankfully.) However, the American Academy of Dermotology (AAD) agrees that two factors matter:2

Glycemic load

Both observational and experimental studies link greater intake of high-glycemic carbohydrates to more frequent and more severe acne symptoms. For some people, acne is significantly improved simply by lowering the glycemic load of their diet.

High-glycemic load diets probably promote acne through several metabolic pathways, including by stimulating insulinlike growth factor 1 (IGF-1) and androgen.3 4 Acne sufferers would do well to moderate their carb intake, especially high-glycemic carbs. The good news is that if you’re already eating a Primal-aligned diet, you’ve probably greatly cut down your glycemic load by removing grains and added sugars, as well as legumes. Fruit can also carry a heft wallop.

Dairy

The AAD recommends that acne sufferers limit dairy intake.5 The available data is observational, so take it for what it’s worth. Still, a recent meta-analysis found that folks who drink more milk are more prone to acne. There was no significant relationship for cheese or yogurt consumption.6 This jibes with tons of anecdotal evidence from people who report significant relief from acne symptoms when they cut out dairy.

What about other food sensitivities?

I can’t tell you how many readers have confided they struggled for years, even decades, with acne before switching to a Primal diet and finally getting relief. Many of them have traced their problem back to gluten. Some are particularly affected by dairy, others by soy. Occasionally, random food sensitivities are the issue.

Despite the preponderance of anecdotal evidence, there is a glaring lack of scientific studies on food sensitivities and acne, so the link remains somewhat controversial. No matter. This is one of those cases where proof is in the pudding as far as I’m concerned.

If you are suffering from stubborn acne, consider what foods may be triggering for you. Start with the usual suspects. Track your symptoms and see if you can spot any patterns. When you identify likely culprits, try eliminating them for a few weeks and see what happens with your skin.

What If Dietary Changes Alone Don’t Solve My Acne?

First things first, look at your gut health. There is a strong gut-skin connection.7 Addressing underlying gut health issues, as well as supplementing with probiotics (Lactobacillus and Bifidobacteria), can reduce acne.8 You have nothing to lose by adding sauerkraut or kimchi to your meals. If you’re not sensitive to dairy, try kefir, one of my favorite sources of probiotics. You can even try doing a yogurt mask since topical probiotic treatments could be beneficial.

Supplementing with certain nutrients might help, too. There is limited evidence in support of zinc,9 vitamin B3,10 and fish oil supplements.11

Finally, work on your skin’s surface. Some people swear by using coconut oil on their face, but it can be aggravating for others. Try topical applications of manuka honey, tea tree oil (diluted), witch hazel, green tea extract, or apple cider vinegar. None of these is likely to be a slam dunk on its own, but use them alongside dietary changes and wise supplementation, and you might just arrive at a winning combo.

Eczema

As with acne, there are several forms of eczema. The most common is atopic dermatitis. Eczema is characterized by dry, itchy, swollen rashes that appear most often on the face, neck, elbows, and knees. People of any age can develop eczema, but it’s more common in babies and children. Up to 20 percent of children and 5 percent of adults are afflicted.12 Doctors aren’t sure what causes it. Rashes seem to be triggered by an immune system reaction, but it’s not clear why. Specific triggers differ from person to person.

Because the root causes are unknown, finding relief can also be difficult and frustrating. Patients are advised to keep affected areas moisturized, avoid detergents and soaps that might irritate the skin, opt for cotton clothing, and take baths with oatmeal or vinegar. Doctors may prescribe topical steroids or other creams or, in extreme cases, immunosuppressing drugs.

Other Ways to Address Eczema

Probiotics?

Studies of infants and young children have found that eczema sufferers have, on average, less microbial diversity in their guts.13 14 Probiotic supplementation, especially with strains of Lactobacillus, may reduce the risk of developing eczema15 and relieve eczema symptoms.16 A 2012 meta-analysis also concluded that when pregnant women supplement with probiotics, their babies have a significantly reduced risk of developing eczema.17

However, a recent Cochrane review concluded that there is insufficient evidence to recommend probiotics as an effective eczema treatment.18 There are so many other benefits of supporting a healthy microbiome that it doesn’t hurt to try probiotics, though.

Coconut oil

Thanks to its antimicrobial and anti-inflammatory properties, coconut oil applied topically to eczema rashes may provide some relief.19 If nothing else, it will moisturize dry skin and smell great.

Acupressure, acupuncture, and massage

A few small studies have found that acupressure 20, acupuncture 21, and massage[/ref]https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/9796594/[/ref] may provide some relief. In addition to physiologic benefits, these treatments may reduce stress, which is known to trigger flare-ups.

Get outside

Your doctor may use phototherapy treatments, but you can also reap the benefits of ultraviolet light simply by getting out in the sun.22 Ultraviolet radiation triggers the release of nitric oxide, which in turn activates T cells that modulate the overactive immune response.23

Dermatologists caution that sun exposure is not recommended for severe cases, and it exacerbates symptoms for some people. Be careful not to overdo it. Besides the risk of burning, getting too hot and sweaty leads to itching and discomfort.

Psoriasis

With plaque psoriasis—the most common form—red, scaly, often itchy or painful patches rise on the scalp, knees, elbows, lower back, or really anywhere on the body. Other types of psoriasis cause red lesions in folds such as the armpit, small dots, or blisters. Psoriasis can also affect the fingernails and toenails.

Psoriasis shares a lot in common with eczema. Doctors don’t know exactly what causes it, but it has a genetic component and is classified as an autoimmune disease. Symptoms come and go, and different people may have different triggers. Doctors usually treat psoriasis with topical creams, but they may also prescribe oral medications to try to get at it systemically.

Unlike eczema, though, psoriasis is more common in adults than children. Up to 30 percent of people with psoriasis develop a related condition called psoriatic arthritis. Because it is associated with systemic inflammation, psoriasis puts you at greater risk for other chronic health conditions such as metabolic syndrome and 24 cardiovascular disease.25

Treating Psoriasis with Diet

Gluten sensitivity is probably more common among psoriasis sufferers than in the general population. I think gluten sensitivity is more common than is generally recognized, but that aside, I’d strongly suggest that anyone with psoriasis try eliminating gluten completely for a period of time.

Calorie-restricted diets also yield significant improvements in symptom severity for obese individuals, but it’s not clear whether that is due to the calorie restriction per se, weight loss, or something else.26 27

If you have psoriasis, you should also limit your alcohol intake. A growing body of evidence suggests that alcohol can worsen symptoms. Psoriasis also comes with a higher risk of liver disease, making excess alcohol consumption potentially more dangerous.28

Supplements

Many psoriasis patients try supplementing with fish oil, selenium, and vitamins D and B12, but there is only mixed evidence that they are actually effective.29 (Vitamin D is commonly applied in topical creams.) They may be helpful for some people, though.

There is also a lot of interest in curcumin, a compound found in turmeric. A number of small clinical trials have yielded some success, but it’s still early. A recent meta-analysis concluded that the available data do not support using curcumin topically, but taking it as an oral supplement shows promise.30

Stress reduction

Stress leads to psoriasis flare-ups.31 Therefore, anything you do to moderate stress may help prevent or manage symptoms. Meditation and guided imagery seem to work.32 Or, treat yourself to an at-home spa day. Start with an Epsom salt or oatmeal bath, then apply some topical treatments using stuff you already have in the house. The National Psoriasis Association recommends using aloe vera, apple cider vinegar, and tea tree oil topically, as well as mahonia (Oregon grape) cream (which you probably don’t have lying around).33

Sunlight

Ultraviolet light, especially UVB, can help with psoriasis symptoms. Certain topical treatments make you more susceptible to sunburn, so check out any medications you’re using.

Acupuncture

A 2017 review of studies involving more than 1,000 participants concluded that acupuncture and acupressure can help with psoriasis.34

General takeaways

Skin disorders are complex. The remedies I mentioned here are not the only ones you might try. Severe or prolonged cases may respond best to a combination of treatments, including medications.

No matter what your specific challenge, the following are always good practice:

Support a healthy gut microbiome through the usual means.

Eat a nutrient-rich diet. Most vitamins and minerals directly and indirectly affect skin health. Vitamins A, D, and E probably get the most attention, but they are all important.

Avoid harsh cleansers and products that might irritate your skin. I have a few posts about Primal skincare, but the most Primal skincare “product” is just plain (clean, filtered) water.

Avoid foods that promote inflammation. If you suspect that food sensitivities make your skin problems worse, simple elimination experiments can provide answers. For skin issues, it’s not generally necessary to undertake a complete elimination diet along the lines of the autoimmune protocol (AIP) or low-FODMAP. However, if you have other symptoms that suggest serious gut health impairment, your practitioner may recommend that you do eliminate a wider swath of foods for a while.

Finally, avoid touching your face as much as possible. That’s just a good idea anyway.

I know I just scratched the tip of the iceberg here. Tell me about your personal successes and challenges. What’s your secret for healthy skin? Maybe your advice can help someone else.

(function($) { $("#df0eOYy").load("https://www.marksdailyapple.com/wp-admin/admin-ajax.php?action=dfads_ajax_load_ads&groups=674&limit=1&orderby=random&order=ASC&container_id=&container_html=none&container_class=&ad_html=div&ad_class=&callback_function=&return_javascript=0&_block_id=df0eOYy" ); })( jQuery );

References

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/12472346/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26897386/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/12472346/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4769025/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26897386/

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0261561418301663

https://www.wjgnet.com/2218-6190/full/v6/i4/52.htm

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/23886975

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/20666829

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/17147561/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/24553997/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6516982/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22831283/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30860574/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6516982/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/11069570

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK91608/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6517242/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/24320105/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22207450/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30477869/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22813359

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/28601680/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/29241748

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5666891/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/31309536

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/29926091/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22004481/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4134971/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/30193251

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/8513683/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/30193251

https://www.psoriasis.org/treating-psoriasis/complementary-and-alternative/herbal-remedies

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/28628749/

The post 3 Common Skin Conditions and What to Do about Them appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

3 Common Skin Conditions and What to Do about Them published first on https://venabeahan.tumblr.com

[jesseneufeld]

3 Common Skin Conditions and What to Do about Them

“Love the skin you’re in,” so the saying goes. Sometimes that’s easier said than done. Skin conditions, ranging from mildly irritating to painfully debilitating, are ubiquitous nowadays. Even mild-to-moderate symptoms can take a serious physical and emotional toll.

I started thinking about skin the other day after a bout of nostalgia had me revisiting old reader success stories. Going through the archives, I was reminded how many readers reported that their acne, psoriasis, eczema, and other skin conditions were “miraculously” resolved after going Primal.

I’m not surprised. I’ve always believed that there is a deep connection between skin health, gut health, and inflammation. The Primal Blueprint is designed to support a diverse, well-balanced microbiome, reduce chronic inflammation, and provide epigenetic signals that optimize health. It makes sense that clearer skin would be one of the benefits.

As I perused the success stories, it occurred to me that it’s been a while since we talked about skin issues here. Today I’m going to cover three of the most common, along with some alternative (non-pharmaceutical) approaches to approaching them. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not judging anyone for opting for pharmaceutical options. However, many conventional treatments—antibiotics, oral steroids, hormonal birth control pills, and isotretinoin (sold with brand name Accutane)—have serious, sometimes downright scary, side effects.

Given that, I know many of my readers are interested in diet and lifestyle interventions that might help. They won’t fix all your skin issues, but they’re bound to improve some aspects of your life, even if your skin doesn’t clear up completely.

Acne

Acne is widespread among adolescents and adults. The most common form of acne is acne vulgaris. You’re undoubtedly familiar with the characteristic whiteheads and blackheads usually found on the face, chest, back, and shoulders. Cystic and nodular acne are severe types of acne vulgaris involve large, deep, painful blemishes that take longer to heal.

Acne doesn’t have a single root cause. Sebum (oil) production, pore blockage, bacteria (Propionibacterium acnes), and inflammation each contribute. Androgens increase sebum production, and hormonal changes due to puberty, menstruation, pregnancy, PCOS, or menopause often lead to outbreaks.

As common as these skin issues are today, they are not an inevitable part of the human condition. Grandfather of the ancestral health movement Loren Cordain asserts that acne is basically unheard of in traditional-living societies.1 This strongly suggests that modern lifestyle factors that affect epigenetics, inflammation, and hormones, underlie much of what we see today.

What to Do About Your Acne

Because acne is multifactorial, there is no single magic pill for acne. Sufferers may try a variety of topical, pharmaceutical, and lifestyle interventions before (hopefully) finding the key that works for them. It can take trial and error, luck, and time. There are also a lot of old wives’ tales that send people down all sorts of rabbit holes looking for answers. Many fall into the category of “can’t hurt, might help.” A few are actually backed by science:

Diet

Many supposed dietary causes of acne aren’t substantiated by research. (Chocolate doesn’t seem to cause acne, thankfully.) However, the American Academy of Dermotology (AAD) agrees that two factors matter:2

Glycemic load

Both observational and experimental studies link greater intake of high-glycemic carbohydrates to more frequent and more severe acne symptoms. For some people, acne is significantly improved simply by lowering the glycemic load of their diet.

High-glycemic load diets probably promote acne through several metabolic pathways, including by stimulating insulinlike growth factor 1 (IGF-1) and androgen.3 4 Acne sufferers would do well to moderate their carb intake, especially high-glycemic carbs. The good news is that if you’re already eating a Primal-aligned diet, you’ve probably greatly cut down your glycemic load by removing grains and added sugars, as well as legumes. Fruit can also carry a heft wallop.

Dairy

The AAD recommends that acne sufferers limit dairy intake.5 The available data is observational, so take it for what it’s worth. Still, a recent meta-analysis found that folks who drink more milk are more prone to acne. There was no significant relationship for cheese or yogurt consumption.6 This jibes with tons of anecdotal evidence from people who report significant relief from acne symptoms when they cut out dairy.

What about other food sensitivities?

I can’t tell you how many readers have confided they struggled for years, even decades, with acne before switching to a Primal diet and finally getting relief. Many of them have traced their problem back to gluten. Some are particularly affected by dairy, others by soy. Occasionally, random food sensitivities are the issue.

Despite the preponderance of anecdotal evidence, there is a glaring lack of scientific studies on food sensitivities and acne, so the link remains somewhat controversial. No matter. This is one of those cases where proof is in the pudding as far as I’m concerned.

If you are suffering from stubborn acne, consider what foods may be triggering for you. Start with the usual suspects. Track your symptoms and see if you can spot any patterns. When you identify likely culprits, try eliminating them for a few weeks and see what happens with your skin.

What If Dietary Changes Alone Don’t Solve My Acne?

First things first, look at your gut health. There is a strong gut-skin connection.7 Addressing underlying gut health issues, as well as supplementing with probiotics (Lactobacillus and Bifidobacteria), can reduce acne.8 You have nothing to lose by adding sauerkraut or kimchi to your meals. If you’re not sensitive to dairy, try kefir, one of my favorite sources of probiotics. You can even try doing a yogurt mask since topical probiotic treatments could be beneficial.

Supplementing with certain nutrients might help, too. There is limited evidence in support of zinc,9 vitamin B3,10 and fish oil supplements.11

Finally, work on your skin’s surface. Some people swear by using coconut oil on their face, but it can be aggravating for others. Try topical applications of manuka honey, tea tree oil (diluted), witch hazel, green tea extract, or apple cider vinegar. None of these is likely to be a slam dunk on its own, but use them alongside dietary changes and wise supplementation, and you might just arrive at a winning combo.

Eczema

As with acne, there are several forms of eczema. The most common is atopic dermatitis. Eczema is characterized by dry, itchy, swollen rashes that appear most often on the face, neck, elbows, and knees. People of any age can develop eczema, but it’s more common in babies and children. Up to 20 percent of children and 5 percent of adults are afflicted.12 Doctors aren’t sure what causes it. Rashes seem to be triggered by an immune system reaction, but it’s not clear why. Specific triggers differ from person to person.

Because the root causes are unknown, finding relief can also be difficult and frustrating. Patients are advised to keep affected areas moisturized, avoid detergents and soaps that might irritate the skin, opt for cotton clothing, and take baths with oatmeal or vinegar. Doctors may prescribe topical steroids or other creams or, in extreme cases, immunosuppressing drugs.

Other Ways to Address Eczema

Probiotics?

Studies of infants and young children have found that eczema sufferers have, on average, less microbial diversity in their guts.13 14 Probiotic supplementation, especially with strains of Lactobacillus, may reduce the risk of developing eczema15 and relieve eczema symptoms.16 A 2012 meta-analysis also concluded that when pregnant women supplement with probiotics, their babies have a significantly reduced risk of developing eczema.17

However, a recent Cochrane review concluded that there is insufficient evidence to recommend probiotics as an effective eczema treatment.18 There are so many other benefits of supporting a healthy microbiome that it doesn’t hurt to try probiotics, though.

Coconut oil

Thanks to its antimicrobial and anti-inflammatory properties, coconut oil applied topically to eczema rashes may provide some relief.19 If nothing else, it will moisturize dry skin and smell great.

Acupressure, acupuncture, and massage

A few small studies have found that acupressure 20, acupuncture 21, and massage[/ref]https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/9796594/[/ref] may provide some relief. In addition to physiologic benefits, these treatments may reduce stress, which is known to trigger flare-ups.

Get outside

Your doctor may use phototherapy treatments, but you can also reap the benefits of ultraviolet light simply by getting out in the sun.22 Ultraviolet radiation triggers the release of nitric oxide, which in turn activates T cells that modulate the overactive immune response.23

Dermatologists caution that sun exposure is not recommended for severe cases, and it exacerbates symptoms for some people. Be careful not to overdo it. Besides the risk of burning, getting too hot and sweaty leads to itching and discomfort.

Psoriasis

With plaque psoriasis—the most common form—red, scaly, often itchy or painful patches rise on the scalp, knees, elbows, lower back, or really anywhere on the body. Other types of psoriasis cause red lesions in folds such as the armpit, small dots, or blisters. Psoriasis can also affect the fingernails and toenails.

Psoriasis shares a lot in common with eczema. Doctors don’t know exactly what causes it, but it has a genetic component and is classified as an autoimmune disease. Symptoms come and go, and different people may have different triggers. Doctors usually treat psoriasis with topical creams, but they may also prescribe oral medications to try to get at it systemically.

Unlike eczema, though, psoriasis is more common in adults than children. Up to 30 percent of people with psoriasis develop a related condition called psoriatic arthritis. Because it is associated with systemic inflammation, psoriasis puts you at greater risk for other chronic health conditions such as metabolic syndrome and 24 cardiovascular disease.25

Treating Psoriasis with Diet

Gluten sensitivity is probably more common among psoriasis sufferers than in the general population. I think gluten sensitivity is more common than is generally recognized, but that aside, I’d strongly suggest that anyone with psoriasis try eliminating gluten completely for a period of time.

Calorie-restricted diets also yield significant improvements in symptom severity for obese individuals, but it’s not clear whether that is due to the calorie restriction per se, weight loss, or something else.26 27

If you have psoriasis, you should also limit your alcohol intake. A growing body of evidence suggests that alcohol can worsen symptoms. Psoriasis also comes with a higher risk of liver disease, making excess alcohol consumption potentially more dangerous.28

Supplements

Many psoriasis patients try supplementing with fish oil, selenium, and vitamins D and B12, but there is only mixed evidence that they are actually effective.29 (Vitamin D is commonly applied in topical creams.) They may be helpful for some people, though.

There is also a lot of interest in curcumin, a compound found in turmeric. A number of small clinical trials have yielded some success, but it’s still early. A recent meta-analysis concluded that the available data do not support using curcumin topically, but taking it as an oral supplement shows promise.30

Stress reduction

Stress leads to psoriasis flare-ups.31 Therefore, anything you do to moderate stress may help prevent or manage symptoms. Meditation and guided imagery seem to work.32 Or, treat yourself to an at-home spa day. Start with an Epsom salt or oatmeal bath, then apply some topical treatments using stuff you already have in the house. The National Psoriasis Association recommends using aloe vera, apple cider vinegar, and tea tree oil topically, as well as mahonia (Oregon grape) cream (which you probably don’t have lying around).33

Sunlight

Ultraviolet light, especially UVB, can help with psoriasis symptoms. Certain topical treatments make you more susceptible to sunburn, so check out any medications you’re using.

Acupuncture

A 2017 review of studies involving more than 1,000 participants concluded that acupuncture and acupressure can help with psoriasis.34

General takeaways

Skin disorders are complex. The remedies I mentioned here are not the only ones you might try. Severe or prolonged cases may respond best to a combination of treatments, including medications.

No matter what your specific challenge, the following are always good practice:

Support a healthy gut microbiome through the usual means.

Eat a nutrient-rich diet. Most vitamins and minerals directly and indirectly affect skin health. Vitamins A, D, and E probably get the most attention, but they are all important.

Avoid harsh cleansers and products that might irritate your skin. I have a few posts about Primal skincare, but the most Primal skincare “product” is just plain (clean, filtered) water.

Avoid foods that promote inflammation. If you suspect that food sensitivities make your skin problems worse, simple elimination experiments can provide answers. For skin issues, it’s not generally necessary to undertake a complete elimination diet along the lines of the autoimmune protocol (AIP) or low-FODMAP. However, if you have other symptoms that suggest serious gut health impairment, your practitioner may recommend that you do eliminate a wider swath of foods for a while.

Finally, avoid touching your face as much as possible. That’s just a good idea anyway.

I know I just scratched the tip of the iceberg here. Tell me about your personal successes and challenges. What’s your secret for healthy skin? Maybe your advice can help someone else.

(function($) { $("#dfgv4T2").load("https://www.marksdailyapple.com/wp-admin/admin-ajax.php?action=dfads_ajax_load_ads&groups=674&limit=1&orderby=random&order=ASC&container_id=&container_html=none&container_class=&ad_html=div&ad_class=&callback_function=&return_javascript=0&_block_id=dfgv4T2" ); })( jQuery );

References

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/12472346/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26897386/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/12472346/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4769025/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26897386/

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0261561418301663

https://www.wjgnet.com/2218-6190/full/v6/i4/52.htm

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/23886975

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/20666829

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/17147561/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/24553997/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6516982/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22831283/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30860574/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6516982/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/11069570

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK91608/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6517242/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/24320105/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22207450/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30477869/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22813359

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/28601680/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/29241748

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5666891/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/31309536

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/29926091/

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22004481/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4134971/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/30193251

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/8513683/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/30193251

https://www.psoriasis.org/treating-psoriasis/complementary-and-alternative/herbal-remedies

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/28628749/

The post 3 Common Skin Conditions and What to Do about Them appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

3 Common Skin Conditions and What to Do about Them published first on https://drugaddictionsrehab.tumblr.com/