#nothing about coping with seeing them having seizures

[swagging-back-to]

i feel like theres no community to talk about animal illnesses and medical problems. theres no place to go talk about it with people who actually understand.

[scientia-rex]

I also spend a lot of time trying to convince people to prevent problems, because prevention still works better than cures. Don't fucking smoke! I would instantly become the best doctor who ever lived if I could just convince all my patients to quit smoking. Avoid alcohol! Don't do meth! Don't do fentanyl! Things that are poisons will poison you in ways you understand, in the short term, but also ways you can't really understand until you've watched dozens of people die from it thirty years later, struggling to breathe from their COPD or weak and nauseated beyond bearing from their end-stage liver disease. I watched a man take 3 weeks in the ICU to die from what meth did to his heart. Your heart isn't meant to beat 145 times a minute for weeks on end. Your liver isn't meant to metabolize 5 shots of gin a day. You aren't going to be able to use denial and willpower to repair the damage your own habits did.

I drink a lot less now than I did before I went into medicine. Lot of different reasons, including that I'm older and more settled. But I can't look at it the same way I used to; I can't brush off as a "fun quirk" what I know is alcohol use on a level that risks withdrawal seizures if they were to suddenly stop, like some of my family members do, nervously asking me about their loved one's drinking when we're alone because beneath the jokes they know it's a problem.

If you're having more than one, maybe two drinks a day on average, over a long period of time, you are damaging your body in ways you don't understand. You're setting up a permanent heightened inflammatory state. Your heart cells don't like alcohol; Google "alcohol-induced cardiomyopathy." Your esophagus and stomach respond to incessant bathing in poison by first developing wounds and then cancer. Your liver, of course, doesn't like it. Your liver not only converts poisons to harmless substances you can excrete, it also makes your platelets, so your blood can clot. It makes albumin, a protein that's essentially for keeping water in your blood vessels and not letting it leach into your tissues. So people who are dying of liver failure are in pain and weak and tired and sad the whole fucking time! And the only solution, a liver transplant, will come with a lifetime of medication and specialist check-ups and the knowledge that if you fuck up and kill this liver, too, no one is going to be eager to give you another try.

I don't guilt-trip my alcoholic patients with liver disease. I don't guilt-trip my smokers with COPD. They chose to cope with substances for reasons, even if I disagree with their reasons, even if those reasons are opaque to me. They will suffer the natural consequences of those actions whether I guilt-trip them or not. I want them to continue to see me, I want them to be honest with me. Other people will lay enough guilt on them. And nothing I can say or do would ever compare to the physical and mental suffering that goes with those diseases.

But if you can prevent these diseases in yourself, prevent them. Quit smoking. Do it now. Your lungs are going to look better starting almost immediately, with positive changes continuing for many years. Drink less alcohol. Sure, it's fun, sure, it's a longstanding human tradition, but it is also unfortunately a straight up poison and your body knows that no matter how persuasively you argue about the obvious failure of Prohibition. You can't argue with a cell. You can't convince your kidneys that high blood pressure shouldn't damage them. They are a system; they do what they do; they existed long before prefrontal cortex existed to justify what we want to do but know to be harmful.



[bullet-prooflove]

Sending hugs always!

He hides his heart and hurt because he kinda had to

For Mitch Ripley, please and thank you!

Tagging: @spaghettificationandpretzels @mini-bee-bee @mandy426 @phoward89 @kmc1989

Companion piece to

Drove All Night - Mitch hates the idea of you spending your birthday alone. 

Seperation!Series:

Marley 2.0 - Mitch doesn't realise your hiding a secret from him.

Not Your Problem - Mitch feels you pulling away from him.

In the weeks after Mitch leaves you he locks away every vulnerable part of himself into a little box and tosses away the key. He self-medicates, upping his medication because he doesn’t want to feel a God damn thing. His world becomes grey again, he’s stoic, numb. It’s the only way he can cope with the end of his marriage.

There’s radio silence from the both of you. He sees you in passing at the hospital but you don’t speak to one another, he can’t even look at you. He knows there’s rumours flying, but Mitch can’t even bring himself to care. Nothing touches him anymore.

He’s filling in one of his patient charts when LJ appears alongside him, completing the intake paperwork from an accident that occurred with a tractor. Mitch has managed to avoid the other man up until this point, he simply pretends he doesn’t exist.

“I’m sorry to hear about you and Marley.” LJ says and Mitch just shrugs his shoulders.

“Why?” He says despondently. “You can have her all to yourself now, I’m not in the way anymore.”

“I don’t understand...” LJ says as Mitch stares down at the tablet in his hand, his knuckles turning while as he grips it.

“I know about the two of you.” Mitch says tilting his head towards LJ, meeting the other man’s gaze. “That it started in St Clair, continued when you got back home.”

“What? That’s not…”

Mitch shakes his head, cutting the other man off.

“I don’t care.” He tells him because honestly he doesn’t want to hear the denials and all that shit, he’s too exhausted, too emotionally wrung out. “The two of you can do what the fuck you want. I didn’t fucking care.”

He walks away then, the tablet cradled to his chest because that ache he’s been trying to push away, it’s back with a vengeance. He heads to his locker and he pops another pill, and then another. He’s lost track of how many he’s up to, all he knows is he’ll take as many as he can to drown out the misery that keeps rising up inside of him.  

He spends the next few hours in a dissociative state, people talk to him and he responds but it’s all automatic. He doesn’t recall these conversations, he only has an awareness of them.

He’s refilling his water bottle when the seizure happens. There’s a raising sensation in his stomach, his arms start to tingle and he’s rocked by a sudden wave of nausea. The water bottle slips from his hand, clattering to the floor as the lightheadness hits and his entire world slips sideways. He smashes  his head on the way down, it bounces off the coffee table, knocking him out as his body hits the tiles.

It's ten minutes later that Hannah Asher finds him, sprawled out, broken, bleeding.

You’re the first person she calls.

Love Mitch? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

Happy Friday everyone! Hope everyone is keeping safe and looking after themselves and each other in this here creative sandbox we're all playing in. I'm back again with another round of the fic I've been reading so far this month! You can find previous rec lists here.

16 August 2024

like i like my honey by @buick118 is a lovely one shot for some super sweet, romantic and caring domestic henren looking out for each other through the years! Hen's healing touch coming out in force to keep Karen looked after. This just made me feel so warm and happy, I love them and their love for each other so much! Plus the title is a Kehlani reference. YES.

when i see stars, that's all they are by @ithilien-writes was a gorgeous fill for the mixed media prompt of @summerofbuddie in which Eddie finds himself at a loose end and unwilling to go back to an empty home, so impulsively signs up to a community poetry class at the local library, makes some friends, and finds a way to channel his feelings. I really loved the slight fish out of water but giving it a go anyway vibe here, and how Eddie found putting his thoughts into words in poetic forms helped him to actualise his feelings.

an inch away from more than just friends by @littlespoonevan I absolutely adored and previously recommended part one which gave me all the romantic Eddie feels, and was eagerly anticipated part two and it did NOT disappoint!! In which Buck puts two and two together after Eddie shares a little of what he's been working through in therapy, and is determined to give Eddie the romancing he wants and deserves! The only problem is all the things Buck's doing to woo him it turns out he's kind of been doing all along. So so sweet, considerate and romantic. Beautifully written. I could just live here.

instructions on not giving up by @wildehacked this one's a hard hitter. Eddie's not coping and Buck is too worried to leave him alone, so invites him to join he and Tommy on their romantic hike getaway when disaster strikes. When the helicopter goes down after Tommy has a serious seizure, Buck and Eddie are grievously hurt and left to depend on each other to survive. Is rescue on the way? This packs an emotional punch but is well worth it for angst fans. Heed the trigger warnings! (Tommy is treated with respect but there is MCD, and suicidal ideation from Eddie.) Ow! My heart. It hurted so good?!

can't tell where you end (and i begin) by @absolutelybifurious Ravi invites the 118 out to a club, things escalate. Inspired by Ryan Guzman in Step Up (which I admit I've never seen but I HAVE seen behind the scenes rehearsal footage...hello), in which Eddie's got moves and Buck's got a problem about it. With a Lucy Donato cameo (yes thank you) and some very sultry dirty dancing. What more could you want?

the parts we play by @calinaannehart I have been absolutely loving following along with this actor!Buck au as a wip, and with just one more chapter to go now is the perfect time to start reading it! 'Buck isn’t a firefighter, he just plays one on TV, or at least that’s what he’s about to do. He’s offered the chance to shadow the 118 to learn what it’s like to be a firefighter. Eddie is fed up with these Hollywood types turning up and feigning interest in the job that he loves. Buck, however, is nothing like that and everyone can see the connection they have.' This feels really beautifully in character for an au and is expertly weaving in canon and reinterpreting it through the film star lens. So much fun to read.

PS - that's it for this week but as always, I'm on the lookout for henren centric fic, and early days Buck and Tommy (I like it best when it fits neatly into where we've left off in canon).

Feel free to self rec!

[morganbritton132]

oh boi I love your fun silly Eddie Munson Tik Toks but I have to say I am obsessed with your headcanon of Steve getting disowned and going to live with Eddie and Wayne. Do you have any thoughts on how Steve and Wayne would get along? I feel like they would have gotten grumpy over the same things (i.e Eddie's bullshit lol) and really would have bonded over it.

Anyways, getting to read the tik tok saga has been one of the highlights of my year, thanks so much for all of your posts! Hope you have a wonderful 2023!

Boy do I have thoughts but they are disjointed.

Eddie showed up at the trailer one day with a Hawkins High varsity basketball duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and the Harrington boy in tow and said, “Steve’s staying with us now.”

Wayne – no questions asked, no questions needed – said, “Yep.” And that was that.

Steve had been over a lot prior to being kicked out but moving in brought about a tense amount of awkwardness until Eddie declared at dinner one night that Steve was his boyfriend. Wayne, who has had eyes this entire time and kind of figured that, just nods along and says, “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.” The awkwardness faded after that.

Steve and Wayne are opposite ends of the same person. They have a lot in common. They just have to get through the generation gap and class differences, and the easiest way to do that is through their love of Eddie. They both love Eddie so much and see the best in him, and they both are fiercely protective of him. They are a united front when Eddie is doing something stupid. He kind of hates it, kinda loves it.

Early on, Steve tries to pay rent, but Wayne just tells him to save the money and work on getting himself a new car since his parents kept the beemer. Eddie gives Wayne a look like he just said the worst possible thing, but Steve is just like, “Nah, it’s alright. I want to contribute.”

Wayne gives back most of the rent money when Steve starts college.

Steve is an early riser so he’s often awake when Wayne gets off work with breakfast already made. Eddie’s a chronic insomniac so sometimes he’s awake. When he’s not, Wayne and Steve typically eat in silence or sometimes Wayne will ask about a game that was on the night before.

Wayne gets the rundown of Steve’s head trauma through experience and then copes. He witnesses Steve have a seizure, realizes that’s why he’s been in no hurry to replace his car, and starts driving the kid to work in the morning. He witnesses a migraine, buys blackout curtains. Learns that Steve will someone leave the house in a foggy state, buys bells for the door to alert someone. Eddie was already talking about getting a service animal at this time and Wayne was mentally trying to work their finances in order to afford it when Steve says no.

Corroded Coffins’ popularity starts to take off while Eddie and Steve are still living with Wayne. Eddie is away more often touring or recording music, so it’s just Wayne and Steve in the trailer. They know how to live with each other by this point, but the time together brings them closer. Wayne is a major player in getting Steve to go to college.

I love that headcanon that Wayne and Eddie are from the south. Sometimes they’ll use some explicitly southern phrases and Steve picks up some of those expressions while Eddie is away on tour. Eddie thinks it’s hilarious.

Not related to Wayne but when Steve’s mom tries to pay Eddie off, she shows up at his little table in the woods like she’s going to make a drug deal. He uses half the money to take Steve on a trip and gives the rest to Wayne because Eddie, at this point in his life, does not have a bank account.

<- Last Post | Next Post ->

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

TW - de@th * You can delete this if it is triggering or upsetting 🤍

Is it an autistic thing to be even more terrified of death than most people are? I know most people are scared of it, but I can't cope. I've never seen anyone talk about it. But like i can't function because of this fear, this fear that I know will happen to me and to my loved ones, I don't know what to do. I've had years of therapy, I'm on antidepressants...

Hey anon,

I often think about death too. And I have my own thoughts.

TW: Death, suicide

After I lost my uncle from a self inflicted gunshot wound (head the entire thing too. I knew what that big shot I heard across the street was. When an officer knocked on our door. That’s when I really knew what happened. My uncle had shot himself with a rifle at a friends house across the street.

I little while later, I lost my biological mother from most likely murder.

One day, I just look a full bottle of medicine. I threw it one the ground in front of my mother. She didn’t take me to the hospital immediately because I guess she thought I was lying.

Next thing I know, I woke up in a hospital room. I felt pins and needles everywhere on my body. But for the most part I was okay. Miraculously.

I was diagnosed with epilepsy in 2019 after having two tonic clonic seizures.

When my seizures start/happen, I almost instantly go unconscious. I hear nothing, I see nothing, I can’t feel anything. My muscles go tense for a moment, then I start to jerk wildly. I wake up to EMTs everywhere. I almost always go to the hospital, and it annoys me. But they told my family to call them if it happens again.

So I’m an odd way, epilepsy has changed the way I feel about death. If it’s anything like my seizures, then I’m okay with that. It’ll be the closest thing I have to peace.

There are religions out there that view death in an interesting way:

Christians believe heaven, a beautiful paradise where everyone will go after the rapture (correct me if I’m wrong please)

There are those who practice Hinduism, Buddhism, and others that believe that they die and come back as someone or something else. This is reincarnation.

My point is, that death is perceived by differently and there that are some views are quite soothing and peaceful. And I hope that comforts you a bit.

Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[chronicallyuniconic]

It's really hard to cope with all this.

Back when I was first diagnosed, I had so much grief for my past self and my past achievements versus my now uncertain future. Diagnosis ruled my life, it still does. I can't turn this off. At the age of 22, everything I'd achieved, was now pointless.

For the past few years, I've realised how much I've been stuck at that age, because I've been unable to put energy into achievements, into working, into living. The achievements I had, mean nothing without the person attached to them. Although I am a different person, it's not the one I aspired to be, this wasn't what it was supposed to look like, wasting away in isolation.

Now seem to be going through the same again, with epilepsy. Having to learn a new illness allover again. Figuring out what sets it off. Deciding if the symptoms I'm having are part of epilepsy, or is it my past diagnoses, maybe I'm just coming down with something.

Having to learn everything about an illness you thought you knew, but actually didn't, is exhausting, scary, an overload of information you're not even sure applies to you. But because doctors are so frustrating, you're forced to learn about it, noone tells you about living with it.

My GP appointment for the first seizure, was very much:

"you may have epilepsy, don't sleep on your front anymore because you might die, make sure you get at least 8 hours though, as sleep is important for epilepsy, not much i can do for your bitten tongue but take these meds and hopefully you won't have another."

That's it. That's my introduction, description and explanation of epilepsy.

--Imagine if they had listened when I said I was struggling with my sleep, I was literally wetting the bed and they just said I had an overactive bladder. I've been manipulated constantly into lessening the symptoms I have, and now I'm here--

Disappointing, worrying, frustrating, upsetting the people around you, because of the symptoms and diagnoses I deal with, is an extra layer of grief. I have to somehow support them too, when I'm actually terrified and there's nobody to support me through this either. What am I supposed to do?

There are so many limitations in the long list of bullshit I'm simply forced into coping with. Like a headache, you don't decide when it appears, it just does, but now I have to be mindful of ppls feelings aswell, when the seizures are random, unpredictable, out of my control.

I'm sat centred on a see-saw of symptoms, that should I tip too far on either side, I will fall, it will get worse, I am not in control.

People don't have patience, for my time, words, emotion, actions. No patience for me overall. If I complain, I seem to suddenly be "the most miserable person" when all I said was "I'm in pain today" because of a seizure, because I bit my tongue into bits.

I haven't done anything wrong, except have epilepsy.

[ahalal-uralma]

It feels so nice to see you back on my dash. I hope you're doing fine and that the treatment I saw mentioned is going well and it's about nothing too serious. Sending you love, strength and a hug 💞✨

Thank you, and a very big hug for you. It's always lovely to see and speak to you likewise. I hope you're doing well and staying healthy.❤️❤️❤️

I have a really hard time wanting to open up about my health, but I guess I may as well since it is a source of mystery for people and they may feel confused at my random withdrawals, and I do intend to meet a good number of you one day (or would like to) so it may be more practical to fill you all in ahead of time of doing that.

Before I get into it...I hope people will understand and respect my refusal to gain pity. I don't want anyone's pity. It doesn't help me cope or better my life in any worthwhile context. I really don't like getting excessive attention, or false positive attention, for conditions that I do not want to have. I'm only sharing in the event I need more quiet time or need to address something on a personal level that affects my pursuits of healing/coping.

I am getting checked for migraines and seizures. I have a history of brain injuries (two of them) that have resulted in concussions and whiplash before. Both of these incidents involved getting hit near the temple by something metal (and heavy) and affects the right side of my head. They occurred at two different jobs that either did little or absolutely nothing to treat the conditions and too much time has passed to seek any kind of legal justice.

This comes at the expense of my suffering difficulties with breathing and being susceptible to sinus infections (I require nasal surgery and can't get it till I'm cleared by the Neurologist as I need to be put onto anesthesia and the seizures may cause the injections to be rejected), having osteoarthritis that impacts my neck and also a reverse cervical curvature in my neck. This doesn't even account for everything else that is bothering me and needing attention. I've been very held up in life due to lack of financial support till recent years.

It is all a matter of diligence at this point in my life. I have to keep up with and on top of specialists, and hope for the best while maintaining the effort it takes to gain the desired results of progress. It'll be a lot to handle at first, but I have a feeling it'll get much easier once the ball is rolling and I have more answers. Other than that, I'm taking it one day at a time and resting/pacing myself. I am trying to maintain a practical and not just ideological mindset regarding my health....with that said, I feel it in my gut this season will be the start of a big turnaround for me and I'm looking forward to all of it. ❤️

[ifeltfree]

Yeah, of course I'll talk with you about it. I'm sorry to hear you're recently diagnosed. I'd say it gets better, but I'd be lying. What does change is that you get tougher, more resilient. If you're lucky, you have people around you who understand and support you well. The seizures never stop being terrifying.

It's an awful disease and one that is extremely misunderstood. Isolating is the right word, for sure. I was diagnosed at 16, so I know how hard it can be to have it as a teenager/young person as well. It feels like it's stealing from you. It is. Don't let anyone tell you any different. Your feelings are justified.

As far as how I cope? Poorly, for a long time, but recently things have been looking up. I was seizure-free for about five years before a recent set of breakthrough seizures (I crashed my car too, lol what a time), so I'm relearning how to deal with the fear and paranoia.

Logistically, I've done a few things:

I was able to get my job to let me work from home 3/5 days of the week.

I sleep. A lot. I still hang out with people and I have a lot of friends, but I had to accept there are things I can't do.

I spend a lot of time in quiet. Overstimulation doesn't help. I found this out the long way - took me forever to realize shutting up one or a few of my senses cut down the brain activity (I'm dumb).

I don't drink. I used to drink - probably too much. Substance abuse and epilepsy don't mix. That wasn't the reason for my breakthroughs, but I do have a little sobriety app. Kinda fun, honestly.

I talk to my friends about it.

That last point is something that I'd never done before this year. It's hard, of course, but I think it's helped that my friends now know I'm having crises of sanity, faith, philosophy - whatever - every day of my goddamn life. It's impossible to live with this disease and not think about what's real, what's not, if I'm losing time, what exactly is a soul...you understand.

Also, seizures are impossible to describe, but I try. That helps as well. Horrifies my friends, but they've said it's ok to talk about.

Every seizure I've had (barring these last ones, or I'd have killed myself) has stolen my personhood from me. I'd wake up as a different person, and then I'd just...live in a stranger's apartment, wear a stranger's clothes, wake up in a stranger's bed. After about a week, the feeling starts to fade but nothing ever goes back to that first reality. That disorientation is, for me, one of the worst parts of epilepsy. It's fucking scary. And if you go through that, I am so, so sorry.

If you want to talk about this more, let me know. I'm much less serious than I seem, and I write like this because I'm overeducated after being scared shitless by my brain. So.

Anyway, feel free to publish this and I hope you feel better soon.

Also, tell your tattoo artist what happened - they'll thank you for not coming in, and they also need to know you're not a flake. Don't want to make them responsible for an unconscious body when they don't have to be! :)

thank you for talking to me more about this. you worded a lot of this really well and its reassuring to know its normal to feel that way that i do about it all. my family thinks im exaggerating it so sometimes i question if im blowing things out of proportion.

anyway, thats terrible that you crashed your car. thats such a huge fear of mine and i cant imagine going through that, im so sorry. its so unfortunate that you have to miss out on things, but im glad you figured out what works for you to keep you in better shape. im gonna try and be mindful about the things you mentioned and see if they make a difference for me, thank you

i dont have much of a support system, most of my friends stopped talking to me after college and i find it hard to meet new people where i live. its significantly harder to cope with shit like this when youre on your own. im sure you get it. and i totally understand what you mean by losing your sense of self. it feels like everything is foggy, all the time but even worse on days i have seizures. it almost makes me mad cause its not fair that after everything else that comes with it, i have to have a diluted watered down personality too.

again thank you for this. ill definitely reach out if the urge arises and you definitely can too. im always open to talk, about anything

[bardic-tales]

Sinking

Rating: General

Word Count: 1299

Warnings: pet illness. Pet death. Death. Illness Religious mentions

Summary: Dealing with a pet’s fatal diagnosis just days after learning about it.

Author’s Note: We learned about Loki’s illness May 5th, and the doctor told us that it was fatal and there is nothing we can do. He can be gone two weeks to a year from now. I’m having trouble coping, but I’m also going through the stages of grief. I’m at anger now.

I also want to thank everyone for being so supportive. I'm not fun to be around at the present, but I want to say that the likes and comments have touched me.

I don't know when I will feel up to working on Cold as Ice, as his diagnosis killed any drive I may have. I just roleplay to keep me distracted, and that is not working now.

Forgive any grammar mistakes. I wrote this as a free writing exercise, and ran it through Pro Writing Aid to catch the more obvious grammar mistakes. I'm just too tired emotionally and physically to edit deeper than that.

1.

Black. Sickening. Sinking Thoughts. Those are all feelings that I am experiencing right now. They all tell me to be thankful that you are still here, but they don’t understand that I am watching you waste away. What can I do to make them understand?

You’re more than just a pet to me. You were the one who was the support for my daughter when her grandfather passed on just two weeks after we got you. Your fur was slick with tears.

And for all of this support, you only asked for love, and that is what you got from us. Unconditional love. An abundance of treats to eat, the comfortable bed you rest in, and all the snuggles you desire.

Grief grows in me like the cancer grows in you. I don’t see you lesser than what you were, but I can’t help but feel as if it were my fault. If I could turn back time, I would insist that you had that $2,000 cat scan, but it would have been a Hail Mary. There is no guarantee it would have even caught the tumor that must have been growing in your brain. I only could do one thing: make your last days comfortable.

For two years, I have been waiting for a diagnosis or a reason you had that awful seizure, the one that rushed us to the emergency vet an hour and a half away. For any kind of explanation of why your seizure happened. I got comfortable. I thought the worst was behind us and the wonderful days were ahead. They were, but at the end of that hopeful tunnel lay shattered glass. This diagnosis broke my soul into a million pieces. All I can do is act as I normally do.

I pray. I pray to the gods I worship and the ones that I don’t. I bargain. I plead. I clench my fists, rally against all of my beliefs, and cry to the heavens. It’s unfair. It’s akin to a knife shoved deep into my heart, and the wound feels like it will never heal. It will fester and grow. It blackens my heart and my soul.

If it hurts this much, how will it feel when you are gone? When I can’t reach over and stroke your fur or wipe the drool from your mouth. They say I will know when to let you go, and as I sit with the morning light creeping through the darkened sky, trying to brighten the day, I realize that my day will never be bright for a long time.

In the morning light, I blink. I type these words in watery, blurred vision, and I asked myself one question. How could I ever have prepared myself? How could I say goodbye to the one who has taught me how to love, what life and living are about? The one who would wrap his body around my head as a migraine blazed or curled up against my back as I lean over and throw up in the bucket by my bed.

My heart is in pieces as days with you are ending, but I try to look on the bright side and show you how much I love you. If I had to live my life over again, I would have decided earlier that I was ready to adopt another animal, and then, you wouldn’t have spent those two years in the shelter, hoping for the day that your family — my husband, my daughter, and us — would come and get you.

When we gave you a forever home, that was the start of our bond. You became sick and almost died when we brought you home. There were moments when you were still and I brushed your luxurious fur, hearing you purr at the attention.

Now, I groom your dull fur. Your coat is thinning, and we can see the muscle loss in your hind legs, the legs that you used to jump to catch all those bird toys.

Tears spill from my eyes. The grief continues to be all-encompassing, the type of grief that burrows into you and eats away at all of your emotions. I have stopped feeling numb, and I now am questioning what type of God allows a family member like you to develop a cancer like that? Haven’t you suffered enough before you came to me?

I asked myself every day how someone could have left a box of kittens on the SPCA’s doorsteps in the middle of February. The staff loved you. You were their office cat, and you adored their affection. When we adopted you, they wept. You — the sweetest and most gentile cat — would turn a dog lover into an animal lover.

As I stroked you, I promised you would never feel pain again a day in your life. I promised you would never lack for love, and you return that tenfold. As you reached out for my daughter’s affection, you helped her overcome her fear of cats. You saw through my husband’s breakdown, and my own grief at hearing my grandfather and Logan might not survive the coming year. When we heard of Julia’s death, you offered a kind paw to my daughter and licked her cheek as tears streamed down her face.

I should mourn you when you are gone and not feel grief now. The family member’s words still echo in my mind. This family member is not the one who is charting your good and bad days. I know if more bad days outweigh the good that we will have to speak of euthanasia with the vet, and that is one talk I do not wish to have, but if it will make you hurt less, then I will have the conversation for you. Your comfort means more to me than a festering migraine I get from crying.

As I sit here and write this, reflecting upon the good and the bad, a small, tiny ginger blur darts across the floor. Sky. I clung to the notion that you have led Sky to us, to help us when you are tired of this cruel, forsaken world.

He has your pattern in his ginger fur. When he looks down, all we can is you, but this is dangerous. Sky will not grow up in your shadow. Your paws are too big for him to follow in, but he, most likely, will try. We will love him, but Sky is not you. He will never be you. Sky is Sky.

Since Saturday, I felt numb as if I was floating on air. This is how I would rather deal with the possibility of you being gone in two weeks. My family told me to look on the bright side as I should just 'put you to sleep', but that is easy for them when they haven’t experienced a bond like ours. They do not know that you still eat, still drink, still use the restroom, and still play like you did in December. But how much longer do we have those times? When will you stop zooming around the house? When will you stop daintily picking your food from your bowl — which is now just a flat plate as I don’t want the tumor to cause you discomfort?

The dam holding all my feelings back cracked yesterday. I sat on the bed as I was wiping you down with the bath towelettes. My face felt moist and hot to the touch. Lifting my hand to my face, I pulled it away and looked at the fingers where wetness clung to the digits. Tears.

Once again, I feel stuck and sick. I no longer feel numb. The emotion overwhelming and darkening my thoughts. Black. Sickening. Sinking thoughts.

[treadmilltreats]

Coping in today's world…here's a Xanax

This week, I am talking about addiction and what it is doing to us as a society.

Anxiety is nothing new. It just has a new name. Years ago, it was called melancholia, the vapours, the English malady, neuroses, nervous temperament, nervous breakdown, and neurasthenia, which was the disease of the Gilded age.

It all started because of the technology of the time, whatever time you may have been in. All of this comes from the inability to turn off your thoughts, and it's been around for decades.

It causes all kinds of physical reactions, sleepiness, stomach problems, morbid thoughts, pains, impotency, even tooth decay, believe it or not.

And of course there is always a pill for everything even back in the day. But recently, in the last 25 years or so, we have had a surge of doctors prescribing things like Xanax or Valium. Or more recently, Oxycontin.

The medication of the masses for many years. No one knew that people would become addicted to them, first to Valium and then to Xanax and Oxycontin.

And no one knew that this was as real of an addiction as heroin. Don't believe me? Just watch Netflix's documentary: Xanax.

These drugs were first put out there only to be taken for a month or so, but today's doctors have kept patients on them for years. And more and more patients are younger and younger. Especially in the last few years with the internet and all the "perfect" people that are on there making more people feel like how come their lives aren't that perfect.

These are like alcohol in pill form. The short-term effects that they have cause short-term memory, making you tired, fatigued, loopy, or makes you laugh. The long-term effects are dementia, tolerance to the pills, addiction and withdrawals, and physical symptoms from craving it when you stop taking it.

If you stop using them, the consequences can be severe. It's like quitting the drug heroine. You can become psychotic, have seizures, severe anxiety, insomnia, and even suicidal thoughts and attempts.

There are ways to get off these pills, breathing, exercise, sleeping, getting outdoors, sunlight, mediation, Cbd, or of course cognitive behavioral therapy which teaches you how to think differently and how to deal with what you've not been dealing with from the beginning.

Believe it or not, social connections are one of the most powerful ways to dispute anxiety. Did you know that loneliness is one of the biggest detriments not only to mental health but physical health as well.

The problem with you taking a pill to calm your anxiety is that you're not building up the mental calluses that you need to tolerate more anxiety. If you're squelching that experience of anxiety, you miss the opportunity to learn to cope with it on your own.

So today my friends remember, always do your homework before you just take a pill. Research other ways to help yourself, seek out counseling, go natural, and start exercising. You need to do the things above before you just take a "cure all" pill that, in the long run, will just make your problems worse.

You need to put in the work it will take to be the change you want to see"

@TreadmillTreats"Be the change you want to see"

@Treadmilltreats

"And just when the caterpillar thought his life over...he turned into a beautiful butterfly"

**Now released my latest book**

The Blessing in Disguise.... revealed

https://www.amazon.com/Blessing-Disguise-Revealed-story-faith/dp/1074340493/ref=sr_1_19?keywords=the+blessing+in+disguise&qid=1561392004&s=books&sr=1-19

***Now available***

My 1st book The blessing in Disguise

Selling on my website:

Http://www.treadmilltreats.com

And on Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_13?qid=1462358109&sr=1-13&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_FMwebp_QL65&keywords=the+blessing+in+Disguise

http://www.am6azon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_12?qid=1434452632&sr=8-12&pi=AC_SX110_SY165_QL70&keywords=the+Blessing+in+Disguise

My weekly Youtube page, please subscribe:

https://youtu.be/LDSXCFJVnzM

Http://www.treadmilltreats.com

Twitter: treadmill treats

Instagram: treadmilltreats

Facebook :treadmill treats

Http://Www.treadmilltreats.com

#treadmilltreats

#Theblessingindisguise

#blog

#blogger

#love

#instagram

#lifestyle

#blogging

#influencer

#bloggers

#bloggerlife

#Garyvee

#Jayshetty

#write

#writer

#motivationalspeaker

#motivation

#motivationalquotes

#motivational

#inspiration

#success

#quotes

#soulsisterssoulution

#NewYorktimesbestseller

#Oprah

#TylerPerry

[mythixprincess]

Feeling emotional....

This year has really sucked for me and my family. The sad thing is its not getting any better. It’s like a never ending storm that keeps releasing deadly cracks of lightning one after the other. Every time I become a little distracted or think that I can get through it, something else has happened. It makes me wonder who I’ve offended that they must make my family and friends suffer. Why must they keep calling down one blow after another. 

First it was my cousin passed away in February a few days before my birthday. Nobody could stop that from happening. He was an alcoholic who lost the war against alcohol. His organs were failing and nothing could be done. I miss him every day. 

Then I lost a good friend of mine unexpectedly. He had a seizure disorder but he always took good care of himself. I believe something happened to him before this last seizure took his life. The hole in my heart grew bigger. The good news is that he became a donor, so there’s hope that his organs may save another life. I miss him so much. At the time I was beating myself up. I could have spent more time with him and his loving wife. We’re all friends and loved to hang out and play games together. I never even got to see their condo they lived in together. The last time I had contact with them was back in 2020. The world had shut down and I was considered an essential worker for working in a grocery store. But I know that everyone has a different road they travel when living. Sometimes our paths crossed and sometimes they didn’t.

The most recent death was of another cousin of mine. Out of the blue he was found dead in his apartment. He was only 4yrs older than me. It hit very, very close to home. He was in the Coast Guard and died shortly after July 4th. His mother is looking for closure and hopefully the autopsy will tell us more. Yet again, I had to say goodbye to another family member. 

Then one of my uncles finally revealed the truth that he has been diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer. His wife several years ago is a survivor of breast cancer. I hope he can get through his chemo and also be a survivor as well. It’s a little baffling that he has no other symptoms aside from being unable to swallow his food.

The most recent thing that has happened is my brother’s good friend is going to have spinal surgery and it’s unclear if he will come out of it alive or not. He called my brother and his other friend to say goodbye and that he loved him. I’m hoping that his surgery is a successful one and he will be able to attend my brother’s wedding in November. I also hope that he won’t have any side affects such as being paralyzed for the rest of his life. 

The saying is true about an hour glass. It’s glued to the table so we can’t turn it over to give ourselves more time. We can only stand there and watch the sand fall through reliving all of our memories. So far from January until now I have no idea how I’ve been able to cope with reality. All I know is my anxiety has never been worse than it has this year. To the point that panic attacks aren’t strangers to me anymore like they used to be. 

Please no more tragedy. My family and friends need a break. I need a break. 

[frozenrose13]

the state of healthcare here is atrocious and we are hard being reminded of this bc [person] in hospital waiting on urgent surgery due to inadequate + too slow treatment

not trying to make it about us or anything but also fuck the reminders freak us out bad. how much damage will there be to try and mitigate once we finally get in for ours. will that genetics referral ever go through. how long until using my current wheelchair gets actually real harm without ot input.

even our good days, we still can see the decline. and there''s nothing we can do about it bc drs arent helping and can never find any potentially relevant research looking and dont talk people with relevant information so we're *guessing* at how to keep the decline slow and how to adapt our life to it and how to mitigate the effects of what decline is doing to us. we've gotten remarkably lucky so far with what we've had access to trying and what's worked for intended purposes. we can type faster with the wrist supports on. we can (mostly) transfer with my quad cane. our wheelchair still hurts us to use but its easier now with the new joystick + supports and we have access to pain management for that. the meds even help with the seizures to some extent.

we're doing writing about playing [sport] while disabled and have a section for basically what we need to bring/use to be able to participate and. its such a fucking long list : / not even including everything that goes in edc bag : /

not that want to be healthier or less disabled or life to be easier or anything like that but fuck we want ways to *respond* to whats going on. cause = effect type stuff. we are in so much pain even with meds which...doesn't happen a whole lot anymore. we are sick of feeling trapped by our limitations. know thats a brainwork thing but hate : /

we lean so far over now : / how much concern about the decline is reasonable. maybe feels worse bc didn't have a lot ability to start with to be losing. frustrated that dont know why + cant figure out + cant ask drs. with everything else we've been able to do bits of research and have plausible options to follow up on. we know enough about our dx conditions to dispute some of them that feel are inaccurate. we spent most of usable money this month on things to try and fix what we can that needs outside fix and the rest to cope with those things. we are exhausted of all this.

this is the closest we've been in a long long time to living a life we are genuinely happy with. we can spend our awake/active time working on our crafting, we do [sport], we're not struggling in any other way but health related, we're in so much of a healthier place mentally. and yet. and yet.

and we can't figure out how to help any of it. the only other things we can think of is ot. which is wait. : /

[lunarwildrose]

I was recently diagnosed with PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) and vitiligo (autoimmune skin disease), the latter of which also causes you to not only lose pigment in your skin, but also your hair, and could cause premature white streaks ... I have a white streak like Rogue, with my hair going white since I was 21, on this note. 😳

I am really feeling the melancholic features of the PMDD, and having mood swings on top of being lethargic, which is also affected by being sickly again ... I kept saying I feel like I have covid again, and recently Micky found out he was at a table read with ppl who have covid, but didn't find out until after the fact. Bogus. 😞

The good news is all my lab tests came back okay, but the bad news is I can't go on birth control for PMDD, cos I have menses migraines and seizures. The OB-GYN doctor said BC doesn't help PMDD anyway, regarding the darker impulses, and that only a SSRI can. I'm on a SNRI, and thankfully found out the one I'm on does help with PMDD, but it still sucks I can't lessen the agony. Guess I'll need better coping skills, but it's kinda hard when I feel like I'm losing control of my life during PMDD days. 😔

I have a referral to follow up with the neurologist again, and I'll try to do the sleep study this time around. My convulsions are bothering me while awake now, not just when sleeping or trying to sleep. *sigh* 😔

I'm insecure about having vitiligo now, I'll need to see a dermatologist about it, which I've been meaning to do, since I'm still concerned about my butterfly rash, which is a big reason I won't go out in cold weather, and try to avoid sunlight which I'm allergic to, it seems, as I get itchy all over, break out in rashes, etc. and my face will have a flare up, and that makes me really insecure.

I also need to see an optician for my eyesight. It would be kinda neat to wear eye contacts, I always wanted green ones, and I saw a super adorable pair of glasses online I wanna get, they're totally my cutesy, colourful style! 😻

I'm not sure if I still have to do an EKG? I can't get in touch with primary care, and was actually rejected when I tried to get an emergency appointment. 😔

My chest X-ray had shown nothing bad, so maybe that's why I haven't heard or seen anything about an order for an EKG? I still have the weird chest pains, so I'd still like to get one, though ... Micky thinks they turned my request for an emergency appointment down cos my symptoms match long covid, and nobody knows how to treat them. 😔

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 🌱🐈‍⬛ Sha Yuri Pris Akridge (Nabi) 🐦‍⬛🍃 (@lunarwildrose)

[justepilepsy]

Hello! So, I don't have epilepsy. I still enjoyed reading your kind advice and recommendations! Thank you very much for doing what you do! The reason I am writing here is that I enjoy writing stories and for the past year I have been working on this story that got stuck in my head years ago. I knew for a long time that one of my main characters lives with absence epilepsy. I've done a lot of research and also coincidentally we actually had a lecturer in epilepsy in university. But scientific papers and YouTube Videos can only tell you so much and I still think it's very daunting to write the experience of having absence seizures while have never had to suffer through them. So, I think my question kind of is how does it feel like to have an absence seizure? It is probably very different for everyone. I am kind of rambling here. What would you like to see a character struggle with?

Hey, thank you for your kind message! I can only give limited insight on experiencing absence seizures, but generally speaking - I think a big aspect for writing characters with epilepsy is a way of figuring out, what control means to them. Control over myself and my life (circumstances) plays a big role in how I approach and perceive situations. Epilepsy (for me) violently takes control over how I act in situations (aka Seizures) or forces me to change my behaviour so to avoid worst case scenarios (more seizures). How does your character feel about a lack of control?

How do they gain control / independence in their daily life? I think it's also important to figure out how they cope with the immediate reactions from bystanders (strangers vs people who are close to them), when they have a seizure. Do they wish to disappear? Do they accept / ask for help? Do they shrug it off? Do they visibly show their irritation about loosing time/memory or do they pretend nothing happened? Do they make excuses about some behaviour that is seizure/epilepsy related? People with absence seizure experience - feel free to contribute to this post in replys or reblogs. :)

What would you like to see in a character?

What would you like to see them struggle with? (and maybe what should be avoided when displaying absence seizures?)

[restmyheadatnightcontent]

touching 3 yennskier?

cw: hospitals, mentions of seizures, illness

3. Hiding face in their neck

She is breathless when she finally makes it to the waiting room, eyes frantically searching until she at last sees him slumped in a chair in the corner, head in hands. She quickly navigates her way through the maze of legs and chairs and comes to sit beside him.

He glances quickly to the side before making to return his head to his hands, no doubt thinking her just another unlucky soul waiting for their turn, when he lifts his head again and looks at her properly, and she can see the mixture of emotions that cross his face in a fraction of a second: the relief, the surprise, the tiredness, the fear and the love.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, voice hoarse and she wonders how long he has been left to sit and stew here on his own, with nothing but his worries for company.

“I came as soon as I could,” she answers, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes.

“But Ciri–”

“Is with Triss. She’s fine, looking forward to an impromptu sleepover,” Yennefer cuts in, hand moving down to cup his cheek. “Now, have you heard anything?”

Jaskier had phoned her earlier, more panicked and scared than she had ever heard him, explaining to her that he wasn’t sure when he would be home as he had had to accompany Essi to the hospital after she collapsed at work, and she was going in for surgery and as her next of kin he needed to be there. He hadn’t asked her to come, but hearing his trembling voice through the phone, Yennefer knew she would not leave him to cope with this alone.

Yennefer knows that Essi is like another sister to Jaskier, and she knows that he loves her, that she was his family when he had no other. She also knows that whenever Essi has not been well, it has been Jaskier that has cared for her, a responsibility he has often carried alone. He does his best for her and more, and she knows that Essi deeply appreciates everything he has ever done for her.

But she also knows the toll it takes on him; the frantic phone calls he has received in the middle of the night, the sleepless nights he has spent in hospital waiting for her, the number of ignorant arseholes he has to put in their place whenever they have done anything to make Essi feel like anything other than capable.

Perhaps things would have been different if she had had someone fight like this for her when she was the one trapped in hospital, instead of being pushed and pulled so much by the will of others. At least Essi does not have to suffer the same poor fate as her.

Jaskier lets out a shaky sigh next to her, and she can see the edges of him starting to fray, the minute shivers running through him, the nervous wringing of his hands. Before she got Ciri, there wasn’t really anyone that she would have felt that feeling of fear and helplessness and gut-churning worry about not knowing whether or not they would be okay, and looking at Jaskier now, she isn’t sure how she would fare in a situation like this. She is a practical person, nothing is more terrifying to her than the unknown and she is sure that if she were in his position right now that she would be falling apart, but somehow Jaskier is just managing to hold himself together, barely, but still he is managing.

She is not good with words like him, she doesn’t know what to say, the usual comforting words would just feel flat and empty on her tongue and she knows he would see straight through them. So instead, she simply takes his hands and holds him steady.

Eventually, he starts to talk, voice trembling. “It wasn’t like her normal seizures - it was - I can’t describe but I just know that it was bad and then they took her away and no-one has told me anything and I–” he breaks off with a sob, and she brings her hand up and threads it through his hair, guiding his head to her shoulder, letting him tuck his face into his neck.

“I just need to know that she’s alright,” he whispers brokenly into her neck, his own hands coming to her sides, knuckles white where they clench the fabric of her shirt. “I don’t know what I’ll do otherwise. Because if she isn’t alright then–”

“She will be,” she hushes him, pressing a kiss into his hair. “She will be.”

And she knows that right now he may not quite believe her, but she will believe enough for the both of them.

send me a prompt!