#signed a mom who is psyching myself up

[themirokai]

Teeth are so fucking weird. They are bones that fall out of your head when you’re a kid and it’s supposed to happen.

Of course we came up with the tooth fairy to make that experience a little more magical and rewarding.

[samuelroukin]

Okay fuck it, team Roach, the 006 to the 141's 007, is roughly:

Roach: Captain Sanderson. Very soft spoken, stuck with extreme baby face despite being a hardened combat vet, tremendously calm, rational and easy going even when being shot at. Very reasonable and inhuman levels of stealthy. Never raises his voice, which is often Worse. He's not really sure how he got here but he is unfortunately Very Good at This. Which is both leadership and Warfare. In his heart of hearts he just wants to be chilling on a pool floatie with a beer in hand but Alas.

His Second in Command: Handsome, Polite, Charming and Clinically Insane. As in they are 100% fudging this man's psych evals. He seems easy going and fun but this man is basically a monster, he is the type that signed up to kill people and not go to jail. Graves but Worse. He's only technically a Hero because Roach is holding his leash but. Seriously he seems fine until you're alone in an enclosed space with him and your lizard brain sends up a panic alarm akin to being trapped in an elevator with a lion. The more he talks the more you realize he... doesn't live in the real world. For Reasons Unknown Roach is pretty much the only one that does actually have a collar on him. He Gets Real Weird and Jealous over Ghost when they finally meet.

Tex: Your Killing Machine Has Anxiety. Possibly the world's best sniper and a true mathematical genius, who has next to no social skills, the legacy of a childhood stutter and growing up in a Very Rural Isolated area. Excellent at taking directions but it's hard to not pin a kick me sign on him despite him being, objectively, a very dangerous guy. A lot of people assume he's Like That because of warfare/soldiers get strange/ptsd etc. No he was always Weird, he is definitely Undiagnosed Neurodivergent, but so is his whole family. A Cheetah in search of a Dog in his Pen. Hypercompetent in the field, who let you out of your cage otherwise.

Doc: World's Bitterest Medic. Loves humanity as a concept and truly believes in medicine as a science dedicated to the betterment of life and wellbeing. Also Hates Every Single Human Being he has ever come across. Extreme Pissed of Mom Who Says Get Your Ass Down Here Now Or I Will Beat You to Death Myself energy. Means he generally keeps them in line socially as well as the Angry Mom Friend so Tex generally hides behind him. He grumbles but he secretly kind of loves it. Unfortunately, these Idiots are *his* idiots. You are Stupid and Embarassing and he Will Run Out Under Heavy Fire to Save You at the risk of his own life. Running in joke is "does the life threatening wound hurt enough to subject yourself to his bedside manner?" Absolutely terrible taste in music he subjects them all to.

There are at least one or two more guys in this train wreck but these are the mains. Unsurprisingly something this disfunction works out horribly well and they are incredibly effective. Tired Dad Energy Roach vs You Should Have Gone Before We Left Mom Medic plus Their Frail Victorian Son of a Sniper plus I Will Kill For You Please Ask Me To Kill For You and Give Me Attention 2IC means this shit is actually A OK by the brass.

lmao didn't you just say you put no thought into them? these guys are far more developed than my ocs, give yourself some credit! they all sound great and like i said i already love tex and doc but uh HI second in command 👀

[libraford]

gods as someone that was raised in several churches (mom minister so I got all the shitty behind the scenes drama starting at like 4yo and never really believed beyond general agnostic-ish feelings. which apparently is a super common trend for pastor/minister kids to nope tf out of the church asap) the 'forcing you to be The Right Christian™ Or You Don't Deserve™™ Charity' thing hits hard. especially when I psych myself out of asking for help because I'm constantly remembering how openly hostile some of those places are to even poor christian people using their services.

like one particular church (the "open and affirming" one that threw the only trans woman out of the 20 person congregation because the old white guy treasurer learned she was trans after like 8 years and suddenly didn't want to look at her, or "worse", hear her sing) had a monthly meal for the (very poor neighborhood) community. they'd make everyone pray to God for 20 minutes before letting anyone touch even a slice of bread, but lock them out of the sanctuary during church hours because they were, I wish I was joking and that this wasn't a direct quote, "dirty homeless looters". you had to pray correctly to get food but don't you dare sully the churches doorstep trying to attend worship. meanwhile the church people organizing it are going off about how dare these people be standing in line for food instead of attending church as Real Good Christians Should.

🙃

That's fucking frightening and unfortunately I have my own similar stories.

Tw for racism, homophobia, anti-Muslim, and just... really bad stereotypes.

One of the reasons I started walking away from the church (there's a couple reasons) was at our summer mission trip (yes, I know.) In previous years, we had kept local: deep cleaning the homeless shelter, renovating the local Latino advocacy building, soup kitchen stuff. But one of the (more wealthy) girls in our group wanted to try doing a mission abroad.

Best we could do is Toronto.

We signed up with a shelter there and they gave us some tasks. The shelter REALLY played up how bad it was in this part of town- the gang violence, the culture of sin, the regressive way the men treat women in their home country.

So like... I'm from America. I've been to Chicago. Not to compare but like... hmm..

So during the introduction to how terrible it is in Toronto (...?) Our ambassador takes us through parts of town to show us what it's like to be homeless there. It was a very somber thing. We were given a small amount of money and we were to pretend it was all we had. Try to survive on a few coins.

We take our tour. Remember that this is supposed to scare us.

She takes us to an area where we hear drums. We hide behind a building. "You hear those drums? This is a homeless village. Young people come here seeking community, but you will be turned away if you cannot provide a service for them. They will only use your body for so long."

So... I'd been to drum circles before. And this was very much a drum circle. Like sure these people were a little crunchy, but it was pretty clear to me that these guys were just cutting loose after the day of work.

She takes us to the red light district.

"This is the red light district," she says. "This is where all the homosexuals come. You see that there are many young people here who are attracted to the high life. But you will see: the older men will always come looking for the younger one's to manipulate and that's how many homeless people become prostitutes."

I, a half-in-half-out of the closet lesbian, for the first time in my life, saw two happy gay men arm in arm and it was moving for me. I saw people having a good time. I'd already figured out she was full of shit. Now I was mad.

So we get back to the church we're staying at and I'm already having second thoughts about this visit to Canada. She tells us that our mission this week is to tutor some Somali kids in English and math.

... I feel... oncoming dread.

They didn't give us a lesson,plan or anything. Were supposed to just help them learn where they're stuck in their lessons. And then on Friday we'll have a trip to the museum of science and industry.

I was the only one in our group that had ever encountered a Muslim to know that Friday was their holy day. And that was when I realized that it was a conversion tactic. I asked her about it like... 'is Friday really a good time to do that?' And she was like 'well, it's the last day you'll be here and we want to celebrate don't we?'

And I was livid, but I was in a different country with a bunch of people who believed this woman's lies. And I didn't say anything to my friends because I was already kind of an outcast there, no one was going to believe me.

So I held my tongue, but from then on I lost a lot of respect for Christian-run charities and even now I'll always be looking for their angle.

[prnanxiety]

4/28/24

Really, really proud of my team today. Beyond excellent response to a potential disaster scenario this morning.

Turns out overnight we got an admission to our unit who was just banned from, apparently, every other hospital in the area. At an outside hospital we occasionally accept patients from, he assaulted 3+ staff members; multiple new assault charges against him. They didn't want him anymore, so they sent him to us in 4 point restraints. He was knocked out from a sedative the night before, currently sleeping in his room.

Always fun to hear someone say "Yeah they just seriously attacked like four or five other people. Alright Gomdy, it's your turn!" As soon as report was over, I updated the security guard on the situation, called the security department to be aware of the pending need for backup, and very, very politely informed the doctor on call of the very, very important need for his prn injection to be strong enough. We were not taking any chances.

Guy wakes up an hour after report is over, walks into the hall, asks me where he is. I calmly answer his question, he shouts "FUCK!" and goes back into his room. Security and I are already watching each other closely, and he calls for back up just in case.

For the next twenty five minutes, the guy is just asleep in his room. I hear him cough and hock a loogie, so I walk in and talk to him a bit. Denies knowing why he's in any hospital to begin with, says the police kidnapped him. He agrees to breakfast. I bring it to him in his room. I am not fucking around with "No, you need to eat out here with everyone else." Not today, not like this. Someone who gets special privileges on the acute psych unit is someone who is not doing well.

While all this is going down, I'm constantly, constantly keeping everyone in the loop. Resident doctor? Let him rest, come back when he's ready for her. House Sup? Meets us in person to discuss the security risk. The security officer present at the time is the same guy who was hurt several months ago with one of my other patients, so he deserved to see that I was doing everything I could to make sure there wasn't going to be an event, and if there was, that it would be quick and decisive.

After I bring the patient his tray, what, fifteen minutes pass? And i hear a clatter. I go in there and find his food half eaten and spread lying against the wall, a few feet from him, clearly thrown. I ask him what happened, he says "I dropped the tray." Yeah okay. I ask him "Will you help me clean it up so I can get it out of here?"

The thing some people may not realize is, that's a valid assessment question, and his answer was "yeah." He immediately started helping me pick the food up off the floor and put back onto the tray so I can take it to the dirty food cart thing. I ask him if there's anything I can help him with; he wants to speak with "whoever's in charge." I tell him I'll contact the doctors, etc.

That was the moment I started suspecting it; that "emotional outburst" syndrome, or whatever its called. Where someone has a brief episode of losing their shit completely, and then regains control again soon after. That comes before the probable meth addiction. As far as I'm concerned, if he didn't have the former, he wouldn't have the latter.

But that's getting away from myself. Someone calls, and it's his mom. She asks me if we have a patient with his exact name and description; I put her on hold, and check if he knows the lady; He does. I quickly and quietly ask him to file the form that says she's allowed to know who he is and why he's here, and what does he do? He complies! Perfectly cooperative, he rights himself, takes my pen, signs the form, plops back down in bed.

I go back and tell his mom "Yeah he's here." She's quieting down a cat in her house, then asking me for details. "Assaulted a bunch of staff members." That gets an "oh, oh, ohhhh oh dear," from her, the kind only a little old lady can give. She's gotta be his enabler, I think to myself.

This whole morning, he's got that standard affect I've come to find in men with severe anxiety disorders and drug addictions; brief, one word answers, feigned lack of knowledge of a subject, guarded/masked disclosures, and desperation to discharge. All his interactions with me, when they're cooperative, are filled with desperate and practiced self control. One that doesn't come with a deeper feeling of inner peace, but instead from having learned "if I lose my cool now, I will be worse off for it."

The resident and the head physician come by, and as soon as they're on the unit I make sure the security guard calls for back up. Once the two doctors are ready to go talk to the guy I tell them, "Hold on, I've been building a rapport with him. Let me go in there first, and let me introduce you two."

And they do it. We go in, and he's talking with them from his hospital bed. All the standard questions anyone wants to know when they're an involuntary admission. "What's going on? Why am I here?" The doctors start asking him what he remembers, and he reveals he of course knows a little bit more than he let on. He remembers feeling "parasites" all over his skin, and telling his mom he wants to die. He fully well remembers all of it, I'm sure. Just doesn't want to admit it, out of fear of being punished. And at one point he asks "And my cat! Where is my cat?" That was when I interrupted the doctors. "I spoke with your mom briefly on the phone this morning, and she was quieting down a cat who was mewing loudly. Does that sound like your cat?" Immediately, the guy's face relaxes. My god, I think to myself, that was a really fucking lucky phonecall.

"When can I leave?" That last one is the one that tests everyone, and I don't envy them for being asked it. They tell him "Not today," and "we'll see how you respond to treatment," or something like that. Guy's already clearly desperately controlling himself. Asks for permission to go use the patient phone on the unit. They tell him "yes," and he gets up to go use the phone.

At this point, I've been watching him closely enough to go "Okay, yeah, that phone call is not going to go well." I take the opportunity to warn another nurse, who's already watching, what I'm sure is about to happen, and then go pull meds from the med room. While I'm in there, I hear an unmistakable banging sound; Guy's smashing the phone against the receiver. Yup, needs something to calm down before he attacks.

I thought that morning when I called the doctor to ask for a stronger dose I got one, but the head doctor on the unit who saw him stopped me and told me "No, up the haldol dose. Make it stronger." Kinda surprised me, but in a good way. They understood exactly what I was trying to avoid. I had to go back and get more haldol in a syringe, but whatever works.

I had two syringes of sedatives ready pretty quickly all things considered, but we still waited for more security to arrive before doing anything. The patient had already gone back to his room after getting whatever bad news he heard on the phone, it turns out, so we were just preparing for the worst before doing anything.

It ended up being a party of, what, eight people? Three nurses, a technician, and four security guards to go into this guy's room. Each of the guards agree on what limb they would grab if it came to that. But I stopped them up front and said "Hey, before anything happens, let me do the talking. I'm gonna go in there, introduce myself and explain what we're here for, and we'll go from there."

So, when we went in there, I politely explained "I see you want to calm down, we have some medication to help you with that." And what does he do? He willfully complies! Just rolls over onto one side and exposes his shoulder for me. I give the injection pretty quick, apply my bandaid, and allow the other nurse to get his other shoulder. The guy was clearly forcing himself to manage his anxiety in the moment, but he wasn't attacking anyone or screaming. Nobody even needed to lay a hand on him.

And he just slept like that for the rest of the shift! Not totally sleeping, mind. I'd leave lunch and dinner trays in his room, and come back an hour or two later to find them half eaten. He knew food was there, he knew we were letting him rest, and he wasn't fighting us on it. No violent outbursts, no nothing. Just some angry phone treatment and food to clean up off the floor.

This event could have so easily been another security guard out on leave, or a nurse out, or what. But it wasn't, because everyone communicated and worked together. Completely avoided any events entirely. I don't want to pretend we did better than that other hospital did, because I'm pretty sure we were on the latter half of withdrawal, but I won't deny we displayed some true skill in our interventions this morning. I know it's going to happen eventually, but so far I've never been assaulted on this job.

I don't want to write all this without talking about the patient, though. I think the root issue with guys with his presentation is basically, the anxiety. They don't have an internal locus of control, beyond "Shut up and calm down." They can't examine themselves effectively; it's either not part of their thought process or its too painful. So when they've got a thought, or a feeling, or a situation, causing them so much pain and fear, they can only tell themselves "I can't lose my shit right now" to get through it. Nobody can survive on "just keep it together" forever.

Without any understanding or guidance, they're just going to stay in a bad situation as it gets worse. Eventually turning to drugs like meth to try to make the pain go away, which of course only makes everything exponentially worse. Eventually they snap, in whatever form that takes. But when they regain control, they don't experience that release of tension, or fear. They just go back to keeping that internal storm barely under control.

My heart goes out to this population. I don't know how to help them, beyond my job. And my job is really only to help him through the withdrawal and get him out of the crisis state of wanting to kill himself or hurt anyone else. After he leaves here, If the social worker can't help him effectively, he goes right back to whatever resources he has available to him. And he's in this situation because those have already failed him. Lots of people say "patients in these situations don't get better until they accept that they need to get better." But how does someone like him reach that point?

Hey, but that security guard has come to appreciate me a lot though. He frequently tells me he likes working with me, because I'm so "By the book." Well damn dude, I'm so thankful you're here to let me do my job safely! Can't believe administration tried to tell us we didn't need a full time security presence on this unit. Buncha fuckin chumps.

[tsunderedoctor]

Ummm hello tsun! I've been following your content for quite sometime now, and reading them all made me feel happy. Recently, things had not been so great. I've been feeling ill, I haven't been taking care of myself, and I just found out that my father was cheating on my mother which really took a toll on me.

Can I request like Law just giving comfort to the reader who hasn't been taking care of oneself because of the recent bad news that they had been recieving the past months? The way you describe Law is so wonderful. The way he gives comfort to the reader even he tends to be the unaffected by feelings.

I'm looking forward to your future posts, have a great day!

I completely understand your pain (not the circumstance, but the pain is still there) and am going through that today which is why I figured now would be a good time to write this. I hope you are doing okay and know you are so loved in this world, even if it doesn't feel like it. I apologize for making this extra mushy lol.

Seeing your tearstained face always made his heart drop, his anxiety spiking through his blood as he tried to piece together just what happened today to cause such a scene. When you had told him the news about your parents it began to make sense in his brain why you looked so distraught. 

Though he never understood that pain, his parents always painted the fairytale story life in front of him and his sister. He does understand the grief that comes with losing that happy-go-lucky image you pictured them having. 

He already knew you didn’t feel well, the physical pain already taxing on your mental health, and now the news too? He wasn’t a psychiatrist, but he could put together these two circumstances can put an even heavier toll on your already faltering psyche.

Law is never good with words (unless they were about insulting people-), so he usually shows his love through actions. Whether it be making your favorite meal or just holding you. He will do his best to reassure you physically that he is here for you and that everything is going to be alright in the end. 

Holding your body close to his own cool skin, he sighed as he breathed in your scent. Here he was trying to make you feel better and he was already relaxing from you being so close to him. Letting you get comfortable in his lap, he leaned his head against your own in a calming manner. Grey eyes closed, he hummed a soft melody he remembered his mother used to sing to help him sleep on stormy nights. 

Looking up at the man, you sniffed away your tears and listened to his soft voice. Doing your best to stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt him, you waited until he finished humming before letting your question out. “What was that from?” 

Looking at you from the corner of his eyes, he coughed awkwardly before answering. “My mom used to sign it to us.” 

Nodding your head, you pulled the man close, kissing his chin as his stubble tickled your cheek and nose. “Thank you Law, it was beautiful.” 

Feeling his cheeks heat up, the man didn’t answer, only pulling you closer to his cool body. Resting your head against his chest, you smiled as you played with the string of his jacket. It’s going to be okay, it will work out in the end, and more importantly, you aren’t alone. 

[thschei]

I didn't post about it at the time bc I was in Such horrendous pain from periods and migraines

(TLDR the birth control I was on had switched manufacturers and it turned my mental health into the dictionary definition of "female hysteria", so to avoid checking myself into a psych ward I stopped taking it, and the au naturale amount of pain my uterus inflicted on me was So, So Much. At one point the sound of my own whimpering woke me up and I realized I'd been sobbing in my sleep, and my mom basically insisted that I take one of her painkillers. I didn't want to, as addiction runs in the family, and I had hallucinations, but I did get a couple hours of peace. My original intent making an appointment with my gyno was to just ask for a different pill, but at the appointment I was running on 2 hours of sleep and hedged my luck by asking for a hysterectomy, after having mostly given up after being told "no, I would not give you a hysterectomy unless you were in your 40's and already had kids" by every doctor I'd previously asked)

that I was living like a zombie, struggling to sleep and needing to use 2 heating pads for hours at a time, and could barely be on social media at all. But when my gynecologist agreed to give me ✨the long sought after hysterectomy✨ he apologized profusely and said that he couldn't do it laparoscopically (I assume he, being in his 60's or 70's and born and raised in this horrible little one-horse farm town, wasn't trained to use the machinery?) and that normally he would offer to refer me to a different doctor who Could do it laparoscopically, but he really didn't think any other gynecologist would agree to perform a hysterectomy on a 23 yr old. He said he'd try to make the incision scar as small as possible and below my bikini line, because he knew that a lot of patients became self-conscious of their scars.

My mom's reaction was like, the Miette copypasta. "You're going to CUT OPEN my BABY with COLD STEEL and LEAVE A SCAR?!"

(My mom is deathly afraid of surgery; it wasn't entirely her overprotectiveness that contributed to this reaction. She even really really loved this doctor because she used to work in the building across from his office, and they'd chat in the parking lot, so she'd spent years telling me I should try him. I was sitting there like, why are you getting cold feet about this now? 😭)

My reaction, though, was to say, "Oh, no no, I would love a scar! It'll be a reminder that I overcame all those years of pain that my body put me through! That's perfectly fine with me :) <3" . I Wanted to ask him to make the incision as big as it reasonably needed to be and on my stomach instead of my bikini line (so I could show it off to people . obvi . ), but I was already asking him to sterilize a 23 yr old, and I was pretty afraid that if I said too many weird things, that he might walk back his decision or decide I needed a psych eval before the surgery. I wanted that mf out of my body since I was 10, I didn't want to postpone the surgery or jeopardize my chances of this happening, so I was Trying to be Chill. Not an easy thing for me, you understand.

My mom was like, you can get a tattoo of a scar! You don't need actual abdominal surgery to achieve it!"

I was like yes I do <3 and signed the consent paperwork, had the necessary ultrasound and bloodwork and covid test to be cleared for surgery. And my scar has unfortunately faded a lot over the last 3 years, bc my doctor did keep his word of making the incision small (which was very very thoughtful of him, just like not what my bonked brain wanted) but it's still a little red in the center and the skin still feels raised across the line.

My main point in posting all this is that with top/bottom surgery, the scars are basically non-negotiable, compared to a hysterectomy having the option of being done through laparoscopy. I don't really think I want top or bottom surgery personally, but I like to think that all of us who get any type of gender-affirming surgery (which my hysterectomy partially was; it eliminated so much dysphoria. The pain was just the top reason I wanted it, and allowed me to avoid coming out as trans in my very conservative state/conservative small town within this terrible state) feel our surgery scars and feel happy and at peace from them <3 Love and peace on planet earth, etc.

(I did do a write up on my surgery a few days after I got out of the hospital that you could read if you want, but it's pretty TMI, like discussing catheters, bc I mainly wrote it for close friends who'd been worrying about me in the 4 days I wasn't really online from the pain, so read at your own risk. You can also see my face in it. I updated it a bit now to fix some pain-induced typos from 2021.)

[b0nemilk]

There is Something comfortably melancholy about waking up at 2 am in a cramped car in a Walmart parking lot because you can’t sleep. So you stay up watching the random people in the early morning walk around , commute to work , simply drifting and existing . When the overwhelming amount of sentience pushes you on a bench in the back of your brain forcing you to think , think , think about everything. It’s made me realize I don’t even know my thoughts anymore. I live so in the moment trashing any long lingering thoughts. I’ve turned my emotional processing off. I haven’t thought about how I’m In a whole new place, I haven’t really thought about how I’m working with people I won’t see again knowing everyone is a stranger here including the trees , the buildings , the signs , the cracks on the ground. I think about the people I hold dear to me and they can leave in a second . I think about how I’ve lost my mind haha . I tell a lcd therapist with tons of anonymous doctors that at I turned it all off because how does one process living ? Knowing there existence is so tiny and everyone else around you is so tiny , but yet seemingly so large . What is the best advice for knowing your whole world and time can be lost in a second Or every second slowly . What makes my life significant. I don’t feel like I am a bad person , I love hard and I’m understanding with everyone I treat people like I’ve known them forever. But why do bad things happen to me? “It’s life” a abandoned coffee mug tells me in a thrift store for 50 cents . All I’m begging for is a break let this be the one who stays , let my friends stay alive , let me not disappoint my family . My grandpa is dying . I can say it doesn’t bother me . I can say I’ve blocked off any emotional attachment after I saw him the last time years ago and I took advantage of his dementia by stealing his cigarettes in a teenage rebellion . Am I sad about this? Yes . He was a the only positive male figure in my life . He was everything to my mom . I’m jealous of my distant family . They get so much more time with everyone else but my mom had to move to America. I don’t even talk to my family other then my mom and brother . 444 . I wish I could see my cousins party and grow . I wish my aunts and uncles knew my gossip. My family is huge but I feel small? And not really apart of it . I hate my body I hate the way I look . I feel so ugly and awkward all the time. I’m insecure but loved connected and unconnected and a mess in a structure. I can’t help but to fear the inevitability of everyone leaving me . A message to my dad but I doubt he will ever be able to grasp the emotional weight of a “just hang in there “ poster hanging in a psych room med station Of a father he has been . I pinch myself leaving pricks of blood watching the clock every minute pass leading me closer to a catastrophe. Manic depression? What is it ? Emotional discharge is all it is . I’m ok ! I’m fine ! I smile I joke I work! I have a stable relationship with my friend , family and boyfriend ! Have I fooled myself? Have I pulled off the most incredible heist of my own perception! Evil laughing in my own head you fool! You fool. YOU FOOL!!!! It’s 5 am now I’m on my 180 th minute of watching the world slowly move around me . Nate’s made noises in his sleep. Which. Means around 7-8 am he will wake up and tell me about his dream. Escapism . Is the only thing we cling to . So much so people are now just living in vr. Nobody wants to live in this world anymore . We rather create our own candy flavored ignorance and inflate the massive tits of our own self hatred . We love you though. We love you! We love hard long and boy is it give us meaning ! I love you , I love you I I love you so much . Loving you makes me feel better. Spread the love man . Or was this another rose colored shades to hide the fact we are dirty fucking animals drooling over sin . I love you but I love you when I can . Because mommy’s very busy she has to work and your dad is slurring and slutting his was up the street . I love you untill your fat

[spraklecat]

I fucking HATE the depression narrative now that I was was fed that it was something ideopathic and incurable for SIX+ YEARS and that all there were were unreliable meds and positive self-talk to do doodly shit about. I didn’t seek help because it seemed useless and a waste of money, it wasn’t fear of stigma or anything. I just saw myself as inescapably terminally online and on an neverending path to decay.

Turns out I had fucking ADHD and my issue is I don’t function in non-structured environments and my problems weren’t all unrelated personal flaws. AND THAT’S SOMETHING ACTUALLY CHEMICALLY FUCKING TREATABLE. I never even considered it until I said something about my mom thinking I had it offhand and actually scored pretty high on a quick questionnaire from the psych. Who I only went to because I was at the point where life wasn’t worth living and I was just like “fuck it whatever nothing else is working may as well at this point”. On one hand I’m so relieved I do have it and there is a fixable reason for my problems because it’s the only thing that’s given me hope in years. I was terrified the test was going yo be negative because I’d be back at square zero and already had my hopes up and then shattered. On the other hand, I fucking hate that it was treated as an excuse to throw drugs at annoying kids as long as long as I lived, in the best case it was treated as something everyone finds relatable online but you probably don’t have and you’re just phone fried. If I’d known I did have actual signs of it since childhood I wouldn’t have been to quick to brush it off as screen addiction.

Well anyways, if anyone reading this is terminally online and considered lazy, forgetful, perpetually late, and can’t get anything done, well… maybe look into this sooner rather than later.

[thegothicviking]

"Life is though but so are you" a.k.a / "how it's going"

Tw mentions of suicidal thoughts and mentions of depression.....

......

Context; I told my new "stand in doctor/substitute doctor" about my depression and suicidal thoughts and how I am struggling with the ADD symptoms (my original doctor is going to some school for 6 months and I wish I could have my substitute instead because he was so kind! And he really listened to me and I was there for over an hour! But of course I can't have him and I can't even put myself in a queue to get him! Typical!)

Anyway he, my substitute doctor, recommended me to call this psych health hotline. Which I did. No it's not the usual DPS (DPS /Det Psykiatriske Senter/The Psychiatric Centre...is usually the national psych health fascilities/help you get here in Norway and believe me when I say they have blood and many deaths on their hands and they are useless and did nothing for me for 3 years except taking my money!! I hate them and so does many Norwegians!!)

Anyway...I call this psych health hotline service that I have never heard of before and they called me back today and have now offered me therapy (FOR FREE!! My former Psychiatrist kicked me out because I was often late to our sessions and I have been in need of therapy for years now) and there will be some group activities with others who are struggling with their mental health (THIS WILL ALSO BE FOR FREE) and so I'll meet up with others and we're gonna play soccer, golf or play with frisbee's...etc... hang out and be social. Which I need as I only have one physical non-online friend and she has social anxiety....

I have been told that all of this therapy that I'll be getting is FREE of charge and its not gonna be about anti deppressants/medication but more about councling and talking sessions...and tasks that I'll do at home (I am terrified to take any meds against depression and so I'm glad it's not about that!) But it will be therapy nevertheless! I am so happy that I'll finally get therapy again!! ☀️

I told my dad about it..and our convo went something like this;

"Are you at your mom's?"

"Yes?"

"Are you awake? You told me you were tired after the phone call...?"

"I'm awake...I was just tired. Not going to take a nap.."

"Ok. Because I have something for you...I'll be there in 7-8 minutes!"

"But I just ate! "(I thought it was food like it usually is when he comes over to my mom's!)

"It's not food. It's something else. I'll be there in 7 minutes!"

And he came and gave me 10 roses. And a card that says "Life is though but so are you" ❤

And he signed the back of the card "Pappz" (instead of pappa/dad) and wrote that he "loved me very much! ❤ hug Pappz!"

And I got a heart lollipop along with the roses and I love that type of lollipop! (They are some of the best ones I swear!!) He gave me a bear hug and told me he was proud of me and that he loved me! I did feel better! I feel blessed right now! Despite all the 10 years of bullying in school I can at least say that I have the best parents! 💕

After putting the roses in a vase I had to text my dad this;

Me: "I don't have a partner (bf/gf) but I have you! 💕"

Papa viking/my dad: "The right one is surely out there waiting for you (my name. Censored.)" 💕

This month is suicide awareness. Talk about suicidal thoughts. Don't be judgemental. Be open. Talk about and dare to ask people why they feel the way they feel!!

It helps to talk about it! It really does! Something as simple as a little card like this or a text from someone can mean something tremendously! It can mean the entire world and make a difference!

And so like I told the lady on the psych health hotline; "I will still try and keep on fighting this!"

And I will. Day by day. Little by little! Day by day. Little by little.

🎶One foot in front of the other foot 🎶

Tell people you love them! Tell them often! Please do! It can mean the difference to them!❤

And to those who are struggling; tell someone you care about that you are struggling! Don't be afraid to tell them! Or call for help!

Remember; "Life is though but so are you!"☀️

We'll fight this! We are all warriors after all! ⚔💖

[shittytransteen]

havent i given enough?

“I’ve got a right to be depressed | I’ve given every inch I have to fight it | I have seen too much of this world, yes | And it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.” - Fill in the Blank by Car Seat Headrest (song of the day

I’m so drained. I’m ready to be done with living. My medical issues are getting worse, it seems. I can’t keep up with it all. I was in a psych ward a little over a month ago. It helped for some time, but now I feel like I’m ready to go back there. I’m failing school, I’m losing a closeness I once had with friends, and most importantly, I’m losing myself.

I wish everything could just stop and I could take a break to figure out who I am as a person. And fix my horrible mental health. I haven’t cleaned my room in so long. I have three months worth of trash piled up in there because of it. It’s so disgusting, but I can’t bring myself to fix it. My mom and brother were going to when I went to the psych ward, but she apparently got wasted and didn’t want to do it anymore. As usual, she’s still an alcoholic. And as usual, I’m the one who has to suffer because of it.

That’s my rant for the day. Signing off.

"You were controlled by humans and now it's fear that controls you. You have no more freedom than you had before, you just found a new master." - Detroit: Become Human (game of the day)

[ireceived-p8250000]

October 13-19, 2013

Sunday, October 13, 2013

It's Sunday, so we went out. We took my parents to the spa in the afternoon. All of us went, actually. I told them to be extra careful with my parents. Ransley had to wait outside and play on my iPad.

Afterward, we went to this restaurant in SM based on Roxanne's recommendation. We walked around and I shopped for Ran and Roxanne, just small treats. I also had work to do in the afternoon. I asked Mansoor if he mentioned me to his parents.

"Yung kapatid ko chinismis nya so ayun alam na nila," he laughed over the phone.

"Gusto mo ba sila mameet?" he asked.

"Hmmm ... wag muna."

"Ako din. I mean, you said your dad was a soldier and a cop. A martial law interrogator?"

"He softened now."

"Do they know about me?"

"Not yet. Hindi ko pa masabi. But I asked my mom once if pwede magboyfriend. I don't think she wants me to."

"Baka may deal ka ulit sa mama mo."

I chuckled, "You'll pay for it right? No, I mean, someday maybe next year. Kasi, I don't want them to constantly worry."

"Don't worry, I'm not, you know—we are still not ready."

"I know."

We listened to each other breathing over the line. I saw my vibrator on the vanity table mirror. After the call, I took it and tried. I did some research last night on how. It was uncomfortable at first. My feet were heating, I felt like I was getting electrocuted by my own veins. I searched for salacious materials to fuel my imagination.

I read stories from PSE and it got me worked up and moist. I had to contain my moans so as not to alarm Rox. But it was really tingly. I slept well.

Monday, October 14, 2013

I woke up early at 4 to review. My exams today were Philo and Experimental Psychology. Now everyone knows Mansoor is my boyfriend.

The whole afternoon, I reviewed for Abnormal Psych as it's the toughest. Then I did some posters for a business. I had to go back to town for my Ecology exams.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

It's ComSci exams and that's just it. I had plenty of free time, so I did some work after that. I practiced my violin for a while and learned some new covers to keep me going. I went out to meet Mansoor, and we hung out for an hour before heading home.

We were in the post office and I hugged him. We kissed. I sucked his lips, he sucked mine. It was sweet and slow. We wanted more but that's just it. We contained ourselves.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Exams for Abnormal Psych and it drained my brain dry. I went out for a while to buy a box of pastries at Victoria's for the girls. I brought it back before our exams in Rizal.

I took the test, and the professor was just in front of me. I finished immediately and gave it back to him. While he signed my permit, he looked at me and said, "You look blooming these days. You don't seem stressed with the exams."

I was taken aback, but I acted like I didn't mind. "Thank you."

I got the permit back and he held it tight, jokingly wanting me to pull it. I laughed for a while then frowned when I got it and left.

Friday, October 18, 2013

In the afternoon, we went to a seminar facilitated by us. It was about facilitation, by the way. Mansoor was there but we were apart, except for the last part. There was a game where we chose who we wanted to do research with, and people chose me, too, but Mansoor went with me.

Another workload today.

Saturday, October 19, 2013

It's the start of prepping for the intramurals. We had a requirement for Economics, which was to interview working people. I presented myself since I work in a formal setting and Stephanie in an informal one.

In History class, Sir Apollo announced my grades and scores proudly. We had a staring contest for a while. I had almost perfect exams, with just one mistake due to spelling.

"I would excuse it but you're a smart person, I expect high from you."

Here are my grades:

Psych 108: 90

Psych 109: 92

Econ 101: 93

Hist22: 97

Engl7: 96

Bio 9: 95

I'm really doubting my history grade. It's so high.

I met with Mansoor and we walked around. He's going away for two days for a seminar in Ilocos. I clung to him and we hugged each other, then kissed again. He's so sweet. Now we don't care anymore if somebody else sees us. We're like free.

Roxanne received her passport so I booked the flights immediately. I told her to plan it.

[chipslittlethoughtcorner]

It’s kinda crazy.

I thought I wouldn’t see my toxic biological mother again ever since I left my reserve under CFS(Child and Family Services) at the age of 12.

I would then see her once or twice more by coincidence. The first time I was coming back from the psych ward at 13 from the city, there was a mix up in communication and they thought I was being abused at the foster family that was actually trying really hard for me to get better as I was in a safe place to process everything. I was very sporadic with coming forward about my trauma to the doctors which just cause further issues later on.

So while I was in my reserve (which mind you I was not supposed to even be in) I ran into her at my grandmother’s house.

She ran to me crying and apologizing profusely, but she didn’t specify what she was apologizing for, and she stunk of alcohol. I took the hug but I could not forgive her, especially what she said before I left the reserve.

In basic terms, she told me to leave the reserve, nothing there for me, go be my step mothers daughter, told me to kms, then said she never loved me. All while she was on a meth bender in the city. At 12! How do you say that to your 12yr old.

Then I saw her again in a hotel lobby during a family visit meant for my fathers side (whole other shit show.) and I had to pretend everything was fine because I didn’t want to blow up in public. She was laughing and drunk this time as well, I later found out she and my father were flirting through text and calling us ‘pests’ and asking when will we be gone from the room.

Different kind of fucked when you consider I told my father what she said when he came to see me at the psych ward with my step mom at the time lmfao, my life is a mess. I was 16.

ANYWAYS

But then I saw her again on my fyp on TikTok about 5 years back, spewing about being a good mother and showing tips as an indigenous mother.

I wanted to leave a nasty comment, to call her out for what she put my siblings and I through. I wanted to remind her how fucked up it all was.

But ya boi was in the middle of typing when I felt sluggish, like it didn’t matter what I said. She could just turn it back on me because I struggle so hard when I try to talk about the messed up shit.

It’s not because I’m making it up on the spot but because I have literally spent my teenage years blaming myself, gaslighting myself and my memories, trying to justify their actions to “yeah I was a shitty kid so I deserved that.”

So I got off TikTok, not like I was posting anything but still. It was a flight response.

Recently I downloaded TikTok again just this week, I’m scrolling and idk, because the world is funny I see one of her videos, then I see she’s live.

I know I shouldn’t have but I watch it for a while, I feel all those raw emotions but I choke them down. I listen to the voice of the woman and hear the same woman who looked down on me, threw my confidence in the trash, called me a computer freak, then would get angry when I wouldn’t laugh at her jokes that were made at my expense.

I listened to her laugh and talk affectionately about her children to the people watching her.

Fuck, I almost fell for it. If I didn’t check more of her page that is. At first glance it looks alright, but when you lived with the woman. Even if it was temporary, I still saw the signs that she’s barely changed. She was always just so good lying to the outside world.

Idk, I have a lot of hate for her but I know I also need to let that shit go and move on. To heal, to be a better person.

At the same time my petty brain says to throw it in her face I’m engaged now, or wait until after the wedding to post pics of my foster family that raised me at my wedding in the family section instead of my shit show biological family that seems to keep failing me.

[thwartevil]

I’m fine, really. Thriving Girl, that's me. Every morning is exactly like this one. I slip into a respectably cute college–girl outfit and I paste on a sunny bright smile before I head out the door, pepped and ready to go through the Freshman motions. I hit the coffee cart first, which is a non-negotiable must, then I call my mom, who’s been way more with the angst since I moved onto campus. After about ten minutes, give or take one of her spectacular, passive aggressive guilt trips, I head for my morning classes with the promise to see her this Friday, (with a surprise bundle of dirty laundry to boot) fresh on my lips. My first few classes are yawners. I spend most of it going over slay-strategies and last night's hunt as I pick the shimmery-blue polish off my nails. It's really all that I can do to keep myself awake. — major kudo for my caffeine kick!!  I guess I’m being kinda harsh, the classes aren’t that dull, per se, they just don’t require brain cells, or tickle my new found academic curiosity as much as Psych or European history do. Both of which I am pretty sure I’m failing. If Professor Walsh’s most recent scowl of disappointment and accompanying, “I expect you to apply yourself in my class Miss Summers!” Is anything to go by then, goodbye to my future of financial and parental independence. Hello, playing Pinochle with my mom and all of her wine shaped friends. When I’m not flipping burgers for minimum wage. And it’s all thanks to my Fangs and Gnarly after dark extracurricular. In highschool being the Slayer never did leave a whole lot of time for the big-brains stuff, or I guess, the no brainer stuff, like sleep. But being A Slayer in college? Now that’s a whole other ballpark of intense under eye-bags. I swear at this point I’ve lost count of just how many times I’ve woken up with Vampire dust in my hair, or something way / way / worse, and the pages of one of my text books stuck to my cheek. But Persistence is key and so, I muddle through. By my second cup of Coffee-Cart goodness I’ve almost completely convinced myself that I’ve mastered the art of matriculating dealage. I sip my coffee and check my watch, it’s a quarter past one and I realize that in all my aimless moseying and self congratulations, time has slipped away from me and I’m late to meet Willow. I pull my satchel over my shoulder and I reach in with my hand to dig around for my phone. I must have forgotten to take it off silent after class because when I look at it I have a text-message from Wil. I feel my heart sink. I know what it’s about before I open it. She’s canceling. Another Wiccan emergency that I won’t understand, not that she’s giving me a chance to understand anything. She's been pretty evasive lately. I type back a quick text about meeting up with her and Xander later, before patrol and I slip my phone back into my bag.

I guess I have time to kill. I should probably use it to study. That would be the well-adjusted college kid thing to do. I look around at the direction signs and I wrinkle my nose. Months on campus and I still haven’t memorized how to get to the library. (Somewhere out there right now a cold feeling is washing over a severely perturbed Giles, I know it.) My eyes fall on a tree, the big idyllic kind with pink petals in full bloom that have begun to fall, making a pretty, inviting pink-blanket for me on the grass below. I quickly walk towards it, setting my bag and coffee down next to the stump before I sit with my back against it and take out my books. I sigh and smile softly, it’s perfect. I’m barely two chapters into classical antiquity, when an over shadow crosses the pages resting in my lap. I look up to see a man, who kinda looks like he’s been plucked straight off the glossy cover of dreamboat professor weekly, looking fixedly down at me. When he doesn’t say anything after a moment, one that is dangerously close to spanning into two and then inevitable weirdness territory, I raise my brows in question.  “Can I help you?” I ask, a faint friendly enough smile turning up the edges of my lips as I pick up a pettle and place it on the page I was reading before I close my book. “Miss Summers?” He responds in a thick, fresh off the boat, Gilesian accent. I blink up at him, my mouth stupidly agape. “Wow. Triple Deja Vu.” “Pardon me?” He frowns.

[someone-called-efg]

everything i know so far regarding religion and my experiences (big post with a lot of words and some pictures too. i tried doing the image id thing so hopefully i explained it all alright) skip at your own discretion

so, for everything ive made either a comic or drawing, then i'll explain what happened a little more underneath.

~~~

first and foremost before i start, so were on the same page, visits to heaven can occur during the time someone is asleep. this could even happen to you if you see in your dream a recently passed relative (or any passed away relative in general but for the most part it happens when the passing is recent and goodbyes didnt happen for one reason or another) and if it hasnt happened to you personally yet, you probably know someone who's experienced a visit.

with that out of the way, lets get started

---

{ image id: an 8 panel comic. 1st panel shows myself with two others sat around a table, as i joke "God, if this is a sin, strike me down". 2nd panel simply says * later that night * . 3rd panel is in 1st person perspective of me in my dream, opening a door. 4th panel shows that behind the door from panel 3 that God is there floating, his hair/beard flowing into the cloud his head is casually floating on in the middle of the room. 5th panel simply shows a lighting bolt. 6th panel shows me falling through the floor. 7th panel shows me waking up in a state of panic. 8th panel simply says: TLDR: If you call upon him, he'll answer. end id }

this is a comic regarding my first visit. at the time irl i was considering becoming an atheist, so this put a solid halt in that. the reason both people with my in the 1st panel dont really have any defining features is because i was at a psych ward at the time for wanting to unalive, and they make you sign nda's there soo, thats the best i got. in the dream/visit itself i was at home, opening the door from the living room to the porch. and God wasnt just there waiting, they kinda came through the ceiling without breaking it. dont ask me how cuz even i dont know.

---

{ image id: another 8 panel comic so here goes more typing yippee! 1st panel shows God from the side, simply saying "So". 2nd comic shows God turning forward, asking "Are you alright?", as though finishing what they were saying in the 1st panel. 3rd panel shows God an i sat on a couch, and while God looks normal sized, i look tiny by comparison, showing basically the setting. 4th panel is a zoom in on me as i rub the back of my neck, saying "i mean ...". 5th panel simply tldr's what happens as i * proceeds to vent ... a lot * . 6th panel shows God saying nothing, but, they * listens to every word * . 7th panel shows me, clearly upset from venting so much, but also now parched, as i tell God "I'm sorry, I've been talking so much, my throat got dry. Do you have anything I could drink?". 8th panel shows God from the side, for the first time smiling as they say "Of course" and a fridge magically appears at opposite from where i am in comparison to them. end id }

so, not even i really knew what all happened until years lated when i asked God if that visit was a therapy session because all i remembered upon waking up after is the last two panels and afterwards, when my mom and step dad came and told me that the year for earth was 2077 and that the north pole was a desert, then we went and had a mini feast with relatives (and maybe ancestors? idk, there was a fair lot of people and i didnt recognize a lot of them so maybe?) , then i woke up. and if youre going to ask why gods eyes arent visible in this comic when they were visible in that last one, at the time of drawing this comic in particular i didnt feel deserving of him looking at me and smiling, cuz lets face it, were all a bunch of sinners here all trying to do good at least. but at the time if i remember right i had a caffeine addiction to the point i needed 8 coffee/monster energy to get me through the day (4 in the morning + 4 in the afternoon), i since went cold turkey against both.

---

{image id : a 4 panel comic because i finally learned my lesson so i dont have to type as much pog! 1st pannel shows myself and my brother (ftm) stood in Gods temple, and i casually ask "Hey, so, can I reincarnate?". 2nd panel shows god towering over both of us easily, their response is a smile with a "Yeah, sure" as they hold something glowing in their hand that i look into. 3rd panel is glitchy, as it shows a child 1st person perspective, the child is looking down, admittedly a bit overwhelmed while saying "mom, i memember my last life". 4th panel is glitchy as well, this time showing the vague image of a woman reaching out her hand presumably to the child, asking "what do you remember?". end id }

so, for a bit of context, the dream/visit didnt start out like that. it actually started at my great aunts house (who at the time was still alive but died very soon after) it wasnt her house when she was alive, but rather, her house in heaven. my godmother was also there, and i was helping her to remember how to fly because she had forgotten the lesson. so, in total there were 4 people there (my great aunt, my godmother, my brother, and myself) and mid way through me teaching how to fly, another of my brothers teleported into the room and just casually took a seat. after the lesson we went outside and walked around my great aunts heaven house, and when we walked a little ways away there was some kinda conflict, and i simply prayed and the conflict was over within under 10 secs. then as the group of my relatives and i went walking back to my great aunts house, i mentioned to my brother my thoughts of asking to reincarnate soon, and he says to me "why not go right now" and i agree, so we teleported to Gods temple and thats where the comic picks up at. what this told me is that being lgbtqia+ isnt a deadly sin, so any member of the rainbow community isnt going to hell for simply being lgbtqia+, which i see as an absolute win.

~~~

thats the most i got for when it comes to visits, which occur when someone's asleep. but, now, its time to go over a couple visions ive had (and no im not gonna talk about when i died cuz that would be 3 posts in a row, so if you wanna see any of that just check it in your own time) because its just visions, i didnt make comics, but just drawings, which, comics are drawings sure, but not all drawings are comics. and, so i stop rambling, lets get started.

---

{ image id : the great flood. as a man drowns under the fermanent from the quickly rising water level, his soul is outside the fermanent, walking up alongside his dying body, unable to help and can only comfort his souless body by watching it slowly unalive. end id }

when i saw this, i honestly saw at least a dozen others doing this too, i also watched who i could only assume was some past incarnation of myself succumb to the same fate. and for those wondering how a soul can be out when the body is clearly still alive, well, 24 hours before someone dies, their soul's already passed on to the afterlife. where the saying 'dead man walking' comes from, because for those 24 hours, the person's already dead, the rest of the world just doesn't know yet.

---

{ image id : the battle at the end of the world. vegetation is barren from the hills as a giant serpent with black scales and glowing yellow eyes makes its way through the landscape. two angels stand in the foreground, aiming their swords to the heavens, causing a pillar of light thats base covers the two. in the distance, the sky is crimson and the clouds are dark grey almost black. end id }

so. also worth mentioning that when i looked to either side of me, there were armies of God all ready for the greatest battle and ready to take part. needless to say it was overwhelming for a lot of reasons.

~~~

so, thats all really. i could get into the couple times i saw the son of God in visits, but the first time was me in a back room with boxes and he was running by and seemed to be busy and i didnt wanna bother him because of that so i didnt say anything, and the second time we were at this park near my childhood home and i asked him if him and adam are technically in a way brothers and we both ended up laughing causing me to wake up.

~~~

from all this i understand that theres stuff im not allowed to know of my visits for one reason or another, and i kinda figure its so i dont cheat at life. because if i had all the answers, than how else is life supposed to test me.

earth is a school after all, and i at least want my place earned on Gods fridge with a magnet hopefully 🤞

[destinimott]

My mom whose a narcissistic parent told me that I was self diagnosing. They often differ to that when you have an answer to their behavior. I know I am masking. I know that I am autistic. It is rare for a young black female to be diagnosed. People in their late thirties especially minority females are just now being diagnosed with it. My mom said since she didn't notice it in my childhood then I can't be. She is adamant that it is schizophrenia and bipolar disorder because she read about it. She refuses to accept any of the reading material I give her. She wants to be a psychologist because she went to a few group meetings and feels that people need her help. Psychology doesn't screen for narcism or autism. They're questions are generally structured towards the side effect of the medication. It's a 5 minute appointment. So the next time I see the psych I am going to have to ask to be screened. My mom keeps admitting me into the psych ward. I don't know what other answers they are looking for if she wont accept mine.

She tells me I need to 🤐🤫 the mind 🧠 to distract yourself. Meditate. So now she's some expert because she listens to apps on the playstore.

It is a cry 😭 for help. I am trying to move out so that I am not subjected to this treatment from her. She plays like the good guy and that I am the crazy one no one will ever listen to. She has isolated me from family and friends. She tells people that I have a mental illness not condition. It was hereditary so that would also be a fault of her own. There is a history of mental illness in the family. So she's the only one who didn't get it?

I have practiced these social skills. I work in customer service 🐕‍🦺 and have been doing so for the last twenty years. What you can't get it learn from home you can learn outside the home. So I took college classes that she is unaware of. She doesn't even give me credit for going to college. She thinks I'm retarded. Slow. That is the psychology of black women. They think because you are black your dumb. Ugly black doll test. Then she must also feel that way about herself. She is projecting that on to me. I'm her psychology rants if how she is so much more educated because she took such and such class and she graduated she feels she is better than me. I dropped it. I didn't see the point of contributing especially when she continues to reject the fact that I am sports medicine 🌿💉 I am an herbalist. Exercise scientist. I decided to go a shorter route and get a certificate in holistic wellness as a 🦮 we too know psychology. I have been working in the field for twenty years. We dont diagnose. We refer you to your primary care. It's a wellness center aka spa. Alternative 💊💉 is complimentary and supplementary to your Western care. Many people are abandoning Western 💊💉 because they haven't provided any answers. So I wouldn't be any different to give up on them because I found the answer myself. Self help books provide that for you. Self diagnosing is like them making fun of you for checking the Internet for your signs and symptoms. My mom feels that is ok to be judged and diagnosed by her and other white medical professionals.

Psychologically black women are the ugliest in the world 🌍 i do statistics. I don't know the last time she read a scholar study. I didn't think I've even seen her on Wikipedia. She has admitted she doesn't write papers. I would be an English lit 🔥 major if I didn't choose to go into sports med. There is only so much you can do with an English lit degree.

[jenniefromdblock]

Drained

[Originally posted on JULY 21, 2021 ]

I rushed my mom twice to the ER the other day (7/16/2021) due to her complaining about an excruciating pain on her left side.

I woke up with her moaning in pain around 7am, so I immediately got up and packed a lot of disinfectants and my laptop (I had to work) and drove to 2 goverment hospitals’ ER. The 1st one just referred us to the 2nd, the 2nd just prescribed meds. They were prioritizing COVID patients, even though their ERs are empty (shoutout to the 2nd which is QCGH). I’m not going to comment on how they handled our situation because I know they have their “reasons”. Since Mom was still in so much pain, we went ahead to Capitol Med. Yes, I know it is private and expensive but fuck it. It’s Mom.

We arrived at around 11am (I had no concept of time, I just wanted the day to be over) and we were immediately attended to. Mom was hooked up to an IV (omeprazole at first, then liquid paracetamol), blood works, urinalysis, and xray were done. When I asked her, she says the pain was level 8 and went to intermittent. There were also times that it goes away. According to her urinalysis, they found specks of blood, so they Rx’d Mom to be CT scanned for suspected kidney stones. During that time I kept on asking her if she can manage the pain, etc. She was like meh, and we were already given prescriptions so we decided that we will sign the waiver to not perform the CT Scan at that moment (the reason and backstory later). We were discharged around 4pm.

I was able to settle a bit when we got home and go back to working. Not even two hours later, Mom was again writhing in pain and she was crying “Lord, please make it stop.” Her pain tolerance is so high that seeing her in that situation was very alarming, so thats when I decided to ask my sister to call an ambulance (I was no longer in the right mental and emotional state to drive at that moment) while I prepare the stuff we need in case she gets confined.

We were brought again to Capitol Med because at least they already know us, the guard was literally like “Uy, parang kanina lang…”. We agreed to do the CT Scan and results says the pain is caused by kidney stones.

Also, even though my Mom doesn’t feel anything, they saw an 8x12x12 benign cyst on her right ovaries. While the doctor assured us its nothing and can be treated easily, they referred us to an OB GYN, who explained the next steps for treatment to us.

Honestly at that point, I hear garbled messages. I can no longer process anything because all I worry about was how the fuck am I going to pay for the hospital bills because I am super bankrupt.

The Backstory: I was retrenched in December 2020 and we were trying to survive off my separation pay (which isn’t that big amount so if you ask me, no I didn’t even have the chance to enjoy it). In April 2021, I got a freelancing job and I am in contract until December, which I am very thankful for. But what I earn is just enough for the utility bills and monthly groceries for 3 people. Yes, I also have been the provider in this house.

I only have Php 1,000 ($20) in my bank account. I have 2 credit cards that I have not been using and been paying off so I can cut it.

But I had to. I maxed out the limit of my first credit card to settle the hospital bills during our ER Visit #1. I had no choice but to do the same for my second to pay off ER Visit #2, not to mention the prescribed medicines worth 2 weeks. Oh btw, the OB GYN consultation fee needed to be paid in cash, so yeah goodbye 1k. Before, I psych myself bankrupt but I still have like 10k+ in the bank. But now, I am literally, really, very, zero balance.

At this point I am not sure how will I be able to bring her to a urologist, another OB GYN session and possible operation.

Well, going back to the main story… we got home around 12am. Mom was still in pain but at least we know the cause. Also, the pain reliever works so Mom was able to sleep enough.

I am still mentally and emotionally drained. Most of all, financially.

So that’s how the day went.