#narcolepsy tw

[demifate]

◌ has the power of hypnokinesis. this is the ability to manipulate sleep patterns and even dreams. chance is able to induce sleep or everlasting insomnia on the living.

● chance, when asleep, has the ability to travel through dreams. he can also create dream-like illusions of attacks that are realistic to the point of throwing enemies off guard. he can create illusions that trick people into seeing things that aren't really there.

◌ he can summon things from dreams to the real world ( e.g. ronan lynch of the raven cycle ). he couldn't always control this ability. so he'd wake up after a normal night to find random objects/living things scattered around his room. with practice though, he's been able to retrieve necessities such as food and water as well as weaponry.

● children of hypnos tend to struggle with narcolepsy and sleep walking. this is something chance has struggled with for years even prior to his arrival at camp half-blood. now that he has his wings, chance has been seen sleep flying. somehow he always makes it back to his cabin safely.

◌ he can levitate and fly using his wings. if his constant desire to sleep wasn't already a dead giveaway, the day chance's wings came in during a game of capture the flag was when everyone knew for sure that he was hypnos's son. he was claimed not long after. not only is flying a useful way of getting around, it's a nice advantage to have during battle.

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday (MLC longfic again!)

Now that my amnesia fic is posted, it's time for more of my MLC longfic! At long last, LLH is awake again . . . and not doing that well.

(You can find earlier excerpts here.)

CW/TW: Panic attack, bicha flare, suicidal ideation

Something was different. The pain was there as always, waiting to devour him whole once he acknowledged it, but there was something else, something blanketing it, muting it somehow.

Li Lianhua stretched out his senses like a limb and tried to make sense of it.

Ah. Warmth. That was the strange sensation. Warmth–heat, even–all around him–his back, his chest, his legs, even his fingers, which had been more like blocks of ice than flesh and blood these last few months.

He leaned back, pushing into the banked heat behind him. The solid core of warmth tucked against his front from navel to neck twitched, then pressed against him more securely, as though it could make a home for itself inside his sternum, ribs, and spine and heat him from within.

He felt warm everywhere.

Well, almost everywhere.

He rolled forward slightly, wiggled further down on the bed, and tugged the core of warmth up higher. He curled his arms and shoulders around it and nestled the bit in his hand between his face and the pillow until it cradled his cheek. 

Much better.

He smiled into his new, warmer pillow and let himself start to relax back into sleep.

“Xiangyi?”

The warmth against his face gradually took shape as his skin and mind began to wake. That was a finger–no, several fingers. A hand. A large hand. And those calluses–how could he not know them when they had clashed steel with him, choked him, clinked brimming cups of wedding wine with him, even been inside him, taking him apart with a gentleness he hadn’t known they could profess.

He let his awareness spread throughout his body, setting aside the pain, and yes, that was a-Fei’s chest he had pressed himself against, like Huli Jing requesting head scritches, and those were a-Fei’s legs, tangled with his, and that was a-Fei’s breath rustling his hair–less now than it had been a moment ago–and that was indeed a-Fei’s arm he was clutching like a child would a favorite toy. 

But a-Fei had been holding him first.

Why was a-Fei holding him? It was one thing to wake up in each others’ arms in the newly wed room, after their  . . . exertions. Before a-Fei knew that any real dream of a future was doomed to fail.

But to hold him now? After he’d given away the wangchuan flower and left a-Fei behind, left their promise behind? To hold him like he still mattered. Like he wasn’t a curse who killed everyone he’d ever cared about. Like he was some sort of treasure . . .

Treasure . . . 

Cabinets stained in blood, Xiaobao’s blood–

“Xiaobao,” he gasped, flinging himself free and to his feet. Where was Xiaobao? He had to find him, had to heal him, before it was too late–

“Xiangyi! Sit down!” A-Fei caught him as his legs buckled and lowered him back onto the bed. 

Why wasn’t Xiaobao here? Had he killed him, too, just like he killed everyone he cared about? 

“Duobing,” a-Fei roared. “Get in here. Now!” Callused fingers cupped both sides of his face, turning it gently but firmly toward him. “Xiangyi, look at me. He’s alright. He’s on his way.” 

“How could he be alright?” Li Lianhua gasped, clutching at his shoulders, the already blurry world turning more hazy. “I saw the blood!”

“I healed him. He’s safe,” a-Fei said, cradling his head as though he could hold the shattering pieces of his mind together. “Now breathe.” 

Li Lianhua choked on an inhale, his lungs spasming, only managing to draw in a desperate wheeze.

A-Fei cursed and dropped to his knees by the bed, pressing one hand to Li Lianhua’s back and the other to his chest, filling both with a familiar warmth that began to break apart the iron bands strangling his throat and lungs. “Try again. Feel my hands. Press against them when you inhale.”

The next breath shook and spluttered like a dying candle but some air squeaked through nonetheless.

“Good.” A-Fei gave his back a short supportive pat. “Again.”

Lotus Tower shook as footsteps pounded toward the bed. “What’s wrong?” panted a beautifully familiar, impossible voice. “Xiaohua’er?”

“Bicha,” a-Fei growled, rising from the floor to kneel on the bed at his side, his hands still bracketing him on either side. “He thinks you’re dead. Show him the scab.”

“Shit,” the Xiaobao-shaped hallucination cursed. It seemed especially cruel of hallucinations to now match the blurriness of their surroundings. It made them seem far too real.

The hallucination knelt at his feet and took his hands. “It’s me, Xiaohua’er,” it said, tears in its eyes and voice. “I’m alright. A-Fei healed me. See?” It brought his hand up to a spot on the back of his skull and pressed his fingers to a crusted, raised line on its scalp. “I’m right here and I’m alright. Do you believe me?”

He could feel it. Why could he feel it? His fingers had always passed through hallucinations before. And even when he’d dreamt of Xiaobao, or of a-Fei, of holding them again, it hadn’t felt as real as this. His fingers traced the ridges of the scab–a perfectly neat seam–then the silk curtain of hair that covered it. 

This was Xiaobao’s hair. The texture, the thickness, what he could see of the color–no hallucination could do justice to this. 

This was his Xiaobao.

He was alive.

“Xiaobao,” he cried, turning his head this way and that to make sure it was the only injury. “You’re alright!”

Xiaobao’s bright smile shone through despite the haze his eyes imposed on everything. “Told you. No harm done. So focus on taking care of yourself, ok, lao huli?”

Li Lianhua huffed out a wet attempt at a scoff and bopped the side of his head. “No harm? What do you call this?”

Xiaobao captured his hands with his and brought them down from his head to rest between them. “Less serious than a Bicha attack. How are you feeling?”

Li Lianhua blinked. A Bicha attack? He turned his attention inward to his qi, and–

Ah. There was a-Fei’s Beifeng Baiyang, somehow wrapped around his Yangzhouman and pushing the last of the poison back into the recesses where it would lie in wait, coiled and ready for the next attack. The black tinge was almost gone from his veins.

He had been so worried about Xiaobao that he hadn’t even realized.

A-Fei had probably saved his life. Again. 

He shouldn’t have bothered.

[madeofbees]

as somebody with narcolepsy

who learned the word necrophilia several years before narcolepsy

i feel personally attacked

with joy this is amazing

[chronic-cane]

After reading at least 20 different news articles on the Adderall shortage so far:

ADHD is framed as a child's disorder still. Adults *can* have ADHD, but are usually mentioned along with the increased demand and suspicion of drug misuse or abuse.

Other reasons why the increase in demand happened include things like increased accessibility and decreased stigma/disinformation. The FDA and DEA letter to the public, cited in most news articles, did not mention age or other possible factors in demand increase.

Adults with adhd are rarely cited for information. Parents of adhd kids are cited much more. Doctors are cited a ton as well, but many pediatricians.

Wording that stays away from child/adult stuff uses "patient" and even then there is a huge focus on "students."

Adhd symptoms are usually talked about surrounding productivity and impulsiveness. Relationships are another one, but around how the family functions with their kid. Self-esteem and emotional distress were brought up a few times.

One or two brought up other mental disorders that need the drug (narcolepsy and binge eating disorder). None have shown concern for those with addiction that may turn to less safe ways of finding it.

I have yet to see one that talks about withdrawal symptoms that people could have if they miss a dose.

"Advice" includes pill rationing, coffee, and every other adhd trick neurotypicals use but that rarely work (for me at least). Nothing really for binge eating, narcolepsy, or addiction.

I mean, it's not unexpected, but it is frustrating nonetheless.

[andrewckeeper]

LIDMF AI + PHOTOSHOP

"My First Narco Boat"

[doll-fae]

Got the date for my lumbar puncture sorted and so wish I didn't. I had it today and was told that it should only be pressure. It was not. It was incredibly excruciating and painful. It felt like the doctor was ripping apart my nerves. Then he couldn't even get a sample because he caused a hematoma. I'm in so much pain afterwards too, I can't even breathe deeply or lay on my back or turn properly. Can barely be upright. I'm in so much pain and for nothing.

[edalynn-ink]

I recently got diagnosed with a chronic illness, and I’ve been putting off learning about it, because it’s lifelong and I figure I’ve got a while. But recently I’ve felt like I know NOTHING about it, so I did some research, and have concluded that no one knows ✨anything✨?? I don’t know anything because neither does anyone else! Huzzah!

[tamrah18]

Hey dad, I can't believe you're gone.

Not gone like when you and mom divorced

Gone like completely absent from this earth

The kind of gone that can't get any worse

I wish I had answers

Or a better explanation from you

But since I won't ever get them

Writing this out will have to do

I know we haven't spoke much since I was 16

I'm 25 now, kinda of hard to believe

But not as hard as knowing

That you continued to drink

So why choose the bottle

Over Desiree, me, Riley, or Seth?

How was drinking so much better

You let it cause such an early death?

You know I loved you dad.

Despite all your flaws

Despite your drunken words

Or the crayons you "threw at the wall"

Where I happened to stand

With my back faced towards you

And let's not forget

about the dirty napkins too

Did the drinking cause the odd behavior

Towards me and my friends?

What about the inappropriate jokes?

Or the text messages you would send?

What about the alcohol you gave us

When Mom wasn't home?

Or how you would make my friends

Sit with you downstairs all alone

Why was Seth always the favorite?

Is it because he is your biological son?

Was I not considered your daughter?

Although you came into my life early on?

I asked for secret handshakes

And to be tucked into bed

I didn't care if Seth went first

I just wanted to be included.

It didn't have to be the same

I'd be fine with being second best

I just wanted a dad

Who didn't treat me as less

Desiree could do whatever

Riley could do no wrong

Yet I was banned from the pantry

And singing when the radio was on.

Dad, I was barely fourteen

When you saw my thighs covered in blood

You didn't respond how mom expected

Instead you laughed like I knew you would

Do you remember all those fights

That would make bubba cry?

How about that summer before

I started junior high?

I had a friend over

She was hiding in my room

She overheard you say

"Your mom will always pick me over you."

You reaked of alcohol

And it wasn't even noon.

But by that age

I kinda expected that from you

I was embarrased and hurt

That someone else heard you say

The things that you did

When mom was away

When bubba was busy

Or everyone else was asleep

Someone else finally heard it

But it didn't change a thing

Dad when you were sober

You showed me how to cook

You taught me self defense

And how to throw a right hook

You helped us practice

The sports that we loved

Taught us responsibility

You made sure we were tough

So why would you drink

The way that you did?

Sober you was supportive

You would never lay hands on a kid.

You wouldn't tear a child down

Instead you would pump your fists

While you scream our names

After we would get a good hit

Make sure we were safe

And knew that we were loved

Always remind us

We are blessings from above

You were a baseball coach

A firefighter too

The man of the house

The protector was supposed to be you

But when you drank it was different

You didn't save lives

You weren't the dad we needed

Instead you left me traumatized

Wait, not only me

But your other sons and daughters

Your wife at the time

Your sisters and brothers

Old friends learned quickly

New friends came to know

If you had a bottle in hand

It was time to go

You made your choice

That much was clear

But why didn't you tell us

How your time was near?

You were so sick

The doctor told you how bad

So why not tell us sooner

Why wait so long dad?

54 is so young

To be strapped in a hospital bed

Struggling to breathe

Unable to lift your head

Your words were quiet

Did it hurt to talk?

Why did you use all your energy

Trying to get up and walk?

You asked us for forgiveness

You told us you loved us

But dad, you still never answered

Why you put the bottle above us.

And now that you're gone

I'm left with just memories

Hey dad why isn't there a picture

Where it's just you and me?

I've searched for some answers

I've screamed and I've cried

I've gone through your things

I've asked myself why

I've talked to my friends

My therapist too

But truthfully dad

I wish I could just talk to you

So maybe if you're listening

Maybe you can hear what I say

Dad I love you and I miss you!

Can you hear me okay?

Send me a sign

A cardinal will do

Send me a sign

That you love me too.

[usertiff]

anyone else jsut become sooo hungry it's incredibly painful and then because ur in pain and uncomfy you don't even WANT to feed yourself if you could because laying down and perishing is so much easier??? and it's like yes this is better but then it's awful again and ur hunger is like consuming u BUT bc you let yourself get to the point of perishing you have literally no energy to even function anymore so then you lay there like someone needs to force spoon feed you before you can exist again????

because same B)

[hotfudgecherryrosy]

The almost required college work ethic of staying up until 3am to finish work and then waking up semi-early the next day is ablest don't @ me

Like I know a perfectly functioning body Isn't meant to handle that kind of stress, especially not constantly but throwing something like fucking narcolepsy into that is a nightmare. If my body decides I didn't get enough sleep, it will forcibly take it. If it's bad enough even when I've taken my meds (guys im so sleepy today 😭)

Then because I'm so tired I end up leaving a bit late. And my legs feel like they're going to fall off (eds?) so I physically can't rush to class.

[sleepymenheragirl]

I hate how so many people think I spend my time doing nothing because I'm lazy, or that I take my Adderall for fun.

No you motherfucker, I told you several times, I have narcolepsy. I almost NEVER have the energy I need to even wash dishes or do laundry. I don't take my meds to get high. I take them because I NEED them to do basic fucking tasks.

I don't enjoy not working. I hate it. I'm in fucking debt and stressed as hell. But my PTSD and narcolepsy are so severe I can no longer function, and the more stressed I am the more my cataplexy and other symptoms flare up.

All this week has been a flare week and I'm so tired of not having energy to do simple tasks. I just wish I had access to meds again.

[nolanhattrick]

my sleep specialist: you have sleep issues because you smoke weed

me: stops smoking weed for a prolonged period of time

my sleep schedule: fuck you thought *gets infinitely worse*

[bonkybornes]

Hey as someone who takes a controlled substance and is an addict(not to the controlled substance, to something else that I’ve recovered from) please stop treating us badly. Nobody interacting with a controlled substance deserves to feel like some people make us feel.

TW BELOW THIS

(Idk how to do a below the cut thing on mobile)

I was trying to get my med dose changed the other day and my normal dr was out of the office, so when I messaged her and asked for a dose change(she asked me to check back in 2 weeks when she put me on the new med) I got a different dr that didn’t outright say that he thought I was selling them or some shit but gave off such an untrusting and defensive vibe that I was scared to call my dr today now that she’s back in office because I don’t want to deal with him accusing me of something that could affect my ability to get medical care I very much need.

He told me that I’d need to return the meds to the pharmacy and that they usually wait a month to change the script because that was what they prescribed me, I’d be glad to return the meds as I have no need for them and they have literally never waited a month. I’ve been on this type of controlled substance for probably three years at this point and I will need to be on it for the rest of my life if I want any sort of quality of life. They test me for drug abuse, I have come back clean every goddamn time.

I’ve lived life with chronic illnesses that present to other people as the fakest shit you’ve ever seen. Nervous system disorders, sleep disorders, connective tissue disorders, all of them have symptoms that look fake even to doctors. I’ve had multiple doctors excuse themselves to google my condition and they all come back with the same sheet filled with half accurate symptom lists that just skim the surface because nobody does research on it. I’ve had doctor after doctor tell me that I’m fine, I am not fucking fine. I live in a grey area of rare disease that entitles me to medication but nothing more. The government doesn’t even recognize my illness as something deserving of disability, even though it’s unsafe for me to drive because of it therefore impacting my ability to work.

It makes you feel insane, like you’re making it up, guilty over making something up when you didn’t, like you don’t deserve to call yourself chronically ill, depressed, anxious, angry, hopeless, like it’s your fault that people keep hurting you. Imagine having a branch stuck through your foot and everyone laughing at you and saying it’s a splinter.

Just because people abuse the system doesn’t mean you treat everyone with a bias. Even if your patient is abusing the system you don’t get to treat them like shit for having a problem. You are a medical professional, get your shit together, having a degree does not make you more important than us. You treat illness, addiction is an illness, addicts are fucking human and usually trying their best.

And to the addicts that are abusing the system, I hope you get the help you need. Try your best, please.

[ceticalys]

was feeling nostalgic for simpler times 😔😔😔 she was so edgy and cool guys believe me!! she has a studded belt (i definitely did not own and treasure)!! please ignore the absolutely inspired carrot dagger

[shadysadie]

Depression Screening Test: Do you ever wish you could go to sleep and never wake up

Me: …is that not something everyone wishes for?

[secretlyakobold]

i might have lupis and narcolepsy