#rough recovery

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee’s tortured unconscious, unaware that in the time they were out, they were found and rushed to the hospital. 

They awaken through a nightmare, screaming, crying, a stranger to the absence of pain. Someone is holding them by their shoulders, saying “Easy, you’re safe, you’re in a hospital. You were out for a while.”  

The world switched too quickly to comprehend it. This must be a lie, a hallucination, a cruel misguided trick. They can see their torso wrapped in bandages hiding away injuries they knew were there. 

“Don’t look down. Look at me.” Caretaker bent their head into their view. 

“H-how... Did this ha-happen?” Whumpee whispered. Caretaker furrowed their brow, but did well to keep their face calm.

“You’re going to be okay, that’s all that matters.” They softly smiled.

[anyataylorjoys]

I'm tryin' to do this. Don't you see? I'm trying to sort it out. And I've come all this way up here, on a coach and everything. And I want you to come back. With me. And I want us to be together. I don't wanna be a fuck-up anymore. I want to be with ya.

GOD'S OWN COUNTRY 2017, dir. Francis Lee

[kekkuda]

this project is gonna be the death of me it is never ending but I’m locking in we ball

[hoaxghost]

[poetry-protest-pornography]

Gentle reminder, because I need it today:

Recovery isn't linear.

You are not the sum of your bad days.

Falling back into unhealthy thought patterns and coping mechanisms isn't a failure, it's an obstacle. You've overcome and outgrown it before, you can do it again.

You're not alone.

Keep going.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Recovery is not linear. We have bad and good days. Recovery is not linear. We have bad and good days. Recovery is not linear. We have bad and good days. Recovery is not linear. We have bad and good days. Recovery is not linear. We have bad and good days. Recovery is not linear. We have bad and good days. Recovery is not-

[sincerely-sofie]

A vent comic about listening to your younger self and taking the things that killed you and using them to come back stronger:

[transmascissues]

i totally understand why some people have read my posts about my recovery experience and been a bit freaked out by it if they haven't gotten top surgery themselves yet, and i also totally understand other people who have had top surgery wanting to reassure those people so they don't get scared out of having top surgery.

what i don't love is when, in an attempt to be reassuring, other people who have had top surgery say "well, my experience was much easier than this and yours might be too. don't be scared of having this kind of recovery, because you might not!"

if you had a super smooth top surgery recovery, i'm so happy for you and i'll be the first to admit that i envy you. i'm genuinely glad you got lucky! but i also know that, when i was preparing for top surgery, i wanted to know how to prepare for if i did have a rougher time and need more support, because being pleasantly surprised by a better time than you expected is much easier than being unpleasantly surprised by difficulties no one prepared you for. trying to find out how to prepare and being met with varying degrees of "don't worry, that didn't happen to me" was infuriating. the chorus of "that didn't happen to me" didn't do anything for me when one day post-op it took three people to figure out how to lift me into a sitting position without hurting me, and i never want anyone to find themselves in a situation like that totally unprepared. i worked really hard to get ready because i'm disabled and knew my body never has a chill reaction to anything, and i want other people to be able to prepare themselves too, whether they have a specific reason to or not.

not to mention, nothing in my experiences so far has been some worst case scenario that you should pray never happens to you. none of the things i've described in my posts have been complications; it's all just natural parts of recovering. every single time my surgeon has seen me, she's assured my that i'm healing perfectly so far. so yeah, things have been rough, but this isn't a horror story that i'm telling. it's not a warning or a cautionary tale. it's all totally normal and expected, even if it is more intense than some people's experiences. it just doesn't feel great to have my experience treated as something awful when it's all just part of the process.

the confidence that comes with knowing what could happen and feeling ready to face it is such a powerful thing, and i want people to be able to have that going into their surgery. i want them to be able to trust in their knowledge of what could happen and feel equipped to handle whatever comes their way. i want them to know that it'll be worth it in the end, even if it's hard for a while. i want them to know that top surgery is a wonderful thing and is worth doing, even if it's a rough experience, and that they can have a hard time and still come out the other side thrilled with the outcome. i want them to be able to look that fear in the face and say "yeah, maybe it'll suck for a few weeks, but then i'll be so much happier for the entire rest of my life, so fuck it, let's do it."

if i've learned anything over the past week, it's that top surgery is scary but it's also so worth it. if it would make your life better, go for it. i promise, the fear will be worth it. and honestly? a lot of the scary shit isn't nearly as scary once you've experienced it and learned how to work with it.

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 29: Not Allowed To Die

Content warning: painful healing, temporary Whumpee death

The magic burned through them like lighting. Their body jerked with the feeling, spasming as once dead nerves were thrust back into new life. The feeling moved from their limbs inward, centering around a throbbing pain in their chest.

The magic focused on their heart. Whumpee felt phantom fingers circle their heart and press, forcing it to beat once more.

Whumpee’s mouth opened in a silent scream. They couldn’t breathe.

“Hurry, damnit!” There was a face above them. They were shouting, panic and exhaustion lacing their words. “I don’t–I can’t bring them back too many more times.” They felt hands digging into their shoulders, shaking.

“I’m trying!” Another voice, tense with concentration, responded.

The world smelled like burnt meat. Whumpee could see nothing but smoke in the sky, ash falling like snow. The forest was burning around them.

Through their tears, Whumpee saw a glow. Soft, warm, unlike the red of flames creeping in.

Glowing fingers dug themselves into the broken and bleeding hole in Whumpee’s chest, and Whumpee’s world went white with agony.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Someone was speaking again. Something wet dripped onto Whumpee’s face.

They could hear it. They could hear their bones snapping into place, feel burnt and dead flesh becoming raw and bloody. They could feel months worth of healing happening within seconds, concentrated and agonizing. It felt like their body was being torn apart all over again.

Whumpee felt their lungs, burnt beyond any natural means of repair, reform within their chest. They inhaled, shaking and desperate, and felt their lungs press into a pair of hands.

Whumpee screamed.

“Just a little longer, okay? You’re doing so good–,” the voice near their head spoke, voice trembling. Whumpee felt a hand brush against their cheek, wiping away tears.

Whumpee’s head lulled limply on their neck. They wheezed, and tasted nothing but ash and blood on their tongue.

“No Whumpee please! Just hold on–,”

The sound was fading, the world turning dark. The pain was becoming distant. Whumpee embraced it.

The world faded out, and Whumpee felt themselves die. Something grabbed them. Not their body, broken and laying dead on the forest floor. Something grabbed them, the soul that had finally separated from their flesh. It dragged them down, a vice-like grip dragging them back towards that inferno. Dragging them into that broken, burnt shell they’d just escaped. Bringing the pain closer. Whumpee couldn’t fight it.

Whumpee opened their eyes, body lurching, as magic willed their heart to beat once more.

“Please!” Whumpee sobbed. They just wanted it to stop.

“Just a bit more!” Those hands on their shoulders tightened, and Whumpee felt their magic tethering them to their body. “You’ll stabilize soon, you just need to hold on so they can heal you-!”

That healing, burning light returned to their chest. Whumpee didn’t have the energy to pull away. They could only scream as their body was rebuilt.

[lousydrawingsforgoodpeople]

[bug-farm]

super late to this but its literally the cutest thing ever omg

[jordanstrophe]

What about mentally wrecked Whumpee and determined Caretaker? Maybe in the hospital setting?😳

CW: Collapse and comfort, confusion, fever, hurt/comfort

The white walls were too familiar. There was even a crack on the wall that looked just like the one in the room whumper held whumpee in.

They hated it. They couldn't stop staring at it.

Finally, they decided they weren't going to.

They swung their legs over the bed, the floor was freezing but they didn't care. They were drowning in their thoughts and needed to do something to get them out.

They struggled to the hallway using the walls for support. It felt like they were treading water, being barely able to pick their feet off the ground.

Their vision warped and they staggered to the other wall trying to keep upright with it. They didn't feel the hall turn the corner and they slipped off, slamming to the floor.

"HEY!" A voice cried, followed by footsteps getting louder by the step. "Why are you out of bed!?" Caretaker skidded to the ground and picked them off the floor into their lap. Whumpee felt like they had been shocked as they curled up against their chest. They gripped their collar like a tether to reality and squeezed their eyes shut.

"I c-can't see anything ri-ight and the crack is still th-th-eir and I can't br-breath a-and-" Whumpee sobbed as caretaker shushed them, holding out their hand to nurses who were about to rush to their side. Caretaker mouthed "it's okay" and "I've got them" before scooping them off the floor and carrying them to their room.

They laid them to bed as whumpee sobbed into their pillow. Caretaker scooted the table over a yard and moved a vase of flowers over the crack. "Is that better?" Caretaker asked, returning to their side and smoothing their hair as whumpee sniffed and nodded.

That was too much of a scare for caretaker to even think about leaving their bedside again. Until it was time to return home, caretaker slept on the couch near the window and kept them distracted by reading cards and letters people had sent them.

[just-looking-for-stars]

a bit of advice:

order dessert before dinner whenever you can. get the really rich option, the oreo cheesecake or chocolate mouse. lick warm, melty whipped cream off the backside of your spoon, scoop the chocolate clean off the plate, sit back and sigh and lament that you might have not saved enough room for dinner, without an ounce of regret, and then go on to finish the bread and oil and your entire bowl of pasta too. look utterly confused anytime anyone brings up their new diet, or how they need to work out before dinner, or that they are just soooo bloated, or how they just need to lose that last 5 pounds. act as if it is the most absurd thing you have heard that someone would even consider cutting calories or passing on warm cookies fresh out of the oven or ignoring the pleasure of eating a whole bag of pink starbursts in one sitting. picture yourself at age three, often. think about a time before dance classes or diet culture or tiny runway models or tumblr of 2012 got it’s hands on you. remember the way your belly rolls looked extra cute in your purple butterfly swimsuit with watermelon juice covering your sticky salt water fingers, braids wildly unkempt from summertime play (and then remember that nothing has changed with age except that now you have a blue butterfly swimsuit instead of purple). and when you can’t show up for yourself to feed this adult body that has to face the world, feed yourself at three years old, giggly and chubby, sweet talking in hopes for a second popsicle. let them know that they can have three popsicles if they want, and that tonight, we will even order our dessert before dinner.

[supercityboys]

Boostle is so blatantly implied by placing them in positions normally occupied by lovers. My favorite instance of this is when they are contrasted against other couples. For example, in Heroes in Crisis, the end panels show Ted and Booster back on their couch, but this time right next to each other laughing their asses off and Harley and Ivy, deeply in love, walking hand in hand.

Edit: I found the screenshot

[moviestarmartini]

for my jude girlies and other fellow merengues: get mentally prepared because he’s probably going to be out for three weeks minimum.

[transrevolutions]

message to all everyone: you are gonna get there. you can get there. I never thought I would get there either and now I have. went back and forth about how to word this post but tbh I just want to honestly say. keep fucking trying out of spite if nothing else because maybe things will in fact get fucking better and it's worth sticking around to find out.