#sleepy bitch disease

[rosesandthorns44]

I can't help but feel like it is somehow my fault any time I have a pain flare up.

I drive myself bonkers trying to figure out the cause:

Not exercising enough?

Inadequate nutrition?

IDK. Sitting wrong???

I've had chronic pain since the age of 7. That's over 20 years now. I have a progressive illness. Logically, I know none of this is my fault. My brain still tells me it is.

Possibly has something to do with my mom peppering me with questions if I mention feeling worse than usual.

"Have you been eating enough protein?"

"Are you doing your PT exercises?"

"Going for walks?"

"How much sugar are you eating? You know that's bad for inflammation."

For some reason, she's also always telling me to eat blueberries???

I know she means well. I know it must be hard to see her kid in pain. She's not blaming me for being sick. She probably just wishes there was some quick fix to make it better.

[cooking-with-hailstones]

If you're one of those girlies* who's like "I'm just so sleepy all the time lemme go take my 3rd nap of the day!! I'm just a sleepy baby!!"

Not to be your mom, but please please please go get your iron levels checked.

*gender neutral

[whump-on-a-string]

My Tav gets the most sleep of all of the party members because every single time we've been in combat and an enemy casts Sleep or something he's the first if not the only one to take a dirt nap.

The silly spin animation characters do before they fall over asleep is hilarious and makes me laugh every time. It's just so silly.

[starlight-nocte]

when i think of sleeping,

i think of dying.

i think of oblivion,

of drowning in the Nile

after baking brown in the 

desert sun…

when i think of sleeping,

i am afraid

because sleep has been 

such a part of me,

has taken too much–

more than its due.

i have lost centuries to this thing,

this disease of

shut-eyed nothingness. 

in truth,

i don’t think it’s possible to be 

safe from sleep.

because this kind of sleep

sticks to your bones,

mouths at the ridges of your throat.

this kind of sleep

eats you alive.

 - Safe From Sleep, after Iman Mersal

[eleftherian]

*stops the movie in the middle to take a nap*

*stops dinner in the middle to take a nap*

*stops showering in the middle to take a nap*

*stops the chapter in the middle to take a nap*

*stops talking in the middle to tak

[shit-enmu-says]

Woe! Sleepy bitch disease be upon ye!

[flowergirlmiwa]

If god didn't want me to be mspleepy, then he shouldn't invented bed thmmpphzzzzzzz

[snoopylovessoup]

[ghostussy]

Uno Night

Primo x teen, sleepy reader (Platonic)

Primo finds you asleep, listening to his album.

/ / /

yeah. no explanation. it's 2 am and zoo has sleepy bitch disease (again)

. . .

"Where's the kid?"

A silence fell over the room. Copia looked to his brothers. "Haven't you seen y/n? Surely they're running around here somewhere."

"You know teenagers," spoke Secondo. "You know, when I was their age-"

"We know, fratello. Let's hope they're not following in your footsteps," Terzo interrupts. "They don't cause trouble, generally. Unless they're with the ghouls; then we should have need for concern."

"Oh, lord below, I'm sure they are fine. They're nearly an adult you know. But if you are that concerned, Copia, I will go look for them. The three of you can continue without me."

"Thank you, fratello. I do appreciate it. It is not like them to miss Uno night."

Primo rolled his eyes before walking out the door.

His footsteps echoed loudly throughout the empty hall. There was not a soul in sight; no ghouls, siblings, or even Sister Imperator. He wondered what everyone could be up to; it was most likely that everyone had their own things going on. He imagined siblings in their own private quarters, partaking in their own individual activities. A bit of light reading, perhaps; or watching TV, drawing, writing, working, sleeping.

He wondered what you could be up to. It was possible you were with the ghouls; or maybe you were in your own bedroom, having forgotten about tonight's game. Maybe you were in the kitchen, making a late night snack. Maybe you had elected to spend the night with another sibling. No matter what you were doing, he was determined to discover your whereabouts. He just hoped it wasn't mischievous or dangerous.

As he approached your bedroom, he listened for any signs of life. He heard none, even after he knocked on your door. Opening the door, he discovered your still-made bed; he supposed you hadn't been in there yet for the night. He continued to ponder where you could be.

Next he tried the kitchen. Though he discovered a small group of ghouls that were absolutely up to no good, he didn't find you. He rolled his eyes as Aether swallowed a banana whole with the peel, turning to leave.

"Have you checked the commons?" Called Swiss.

"No, I have not. Is that where they are?"

"They were earlier. 'Dunno if they still are though," Aether manages with a mouthful of banana.

"Ah, well- thank you. I will stop by." He starts walking out the door once more. "Please stop eating the bananas whole!" He calls.

As he heads towards the common room, he wonders what you could be doing there. Sometimes the ghoulettes host game nights, which may explain the halls' emptiness.

Pushing open the heavy oak door, he is met with an empty common room. A fire is roaring in the fireplace, the only defense against the bitter chill that plagues the Ministry at this time of year.

He walks to the center of the room, making his way around the giant couch. Once he does, he spots you.

You're fast asleep, tangled up in a thin green blanket within the soft confines of the couch. You're curled up slightly, chest rising and falling with steady rhythms. He spots your phone, clutched tightly in hand, a pair of earbuds connected and in your ears.

With a sigh, he steps closer to your figure. He carefully removes the earbuds and phone from your grasp, turning it on to pause whatever you had drifted off listening to. He smiles, chuckling to himself when he sees.

You had fallen asleep to Opus Eponymous.

His album.

He leans down to your height. Brushing the hair out of your face, he decides to rouse you.

You stir, a deep whine escaping your lips as you crack your eyelids open. "...Primo?"

"Ah, good evening," he greets, "are you ready for bed, dolce?"

"What?" Your voice is rough with sleep, confusion on your face.

He chuckles. "Let's get you to bed." He reaches out to pull the blanket off of you; you whine, burying your face in your arms. "Come on now, don't be difficult. Bedtime, let's go." You don't move, breaths steadying once more. He sighs, using his hands to shake you gently. "Bambino, wake up. Bedtime."

Finally, you awaken. You open your eyes fully, brows knitting together in confusion as you use your arms to lift yourself slightly. You suck in a deep breath, unable to form words quite yet.

"Hello sleeping beauty," he teases, "are you ready for bed?"

You rub your eyes, pushing yourself to sit up on the couch. The remaining part of the blanket falls from your form, ending into a pile around you. You sleepily nod.

He helps you stand, smiling at the way you press yourself against his side for warmth. He picks up the blanket and wraps it around your shoulders, then returns your cell phone.

"My dear, I saw what you were listening to. How on Earth did you fall asleep to my album? It is not, eh... very soothing."

"Missed you," you mumble, still too drowsy to think.

"'Missed me?' I am right here."

"Busy."

"Ah, well. Would you miss me a little less if I took you to bed?"

"Mhm."

"Very well. But first we must meet with my brothers. They are very worried about you."

"Huh? Why?"

"It is Uno night. Have you forgotten?"

"Aw... I wanna play Uno..."

"Nope. Bedtime."

"Please?"

"No."

"Can I at least watch for a bit?"

He sighs. "Fine. You may watch one round, but then it is off to bed."

. . .

The others cheered when you entered the room.

"Child, we thought you no longer loved us," Terzo yells dramatically.

"Where were you?" Questions Secondo.

"You, eh... look drowsy," Copia chimes in.

"Napping in the den," Primo says, taking a seat at the table. "They wanted to say hi before going to bed. Isn't that right, y/n?"

You nod. "I wanna watch for a bit though." You sit on the couch a few feet away from the table.

"Just watching?" Terzo whines. "Come on, the games are always more interesting when you join!"

Primo shoots him a glare. "No. They're going to bed after this round. Now who's shuffling the cards?"

You quickly lose focus once the game starts. They're oddly quiet; there's no yelling, no throwing of cards. Instead they talk quietly, calmly explaining their complete and utter rage when being handed a thrice-stacked draw four card. You're still sleepy, so you decide to lie down on the couch for a moment. Only for a moment; after all, the game would be ending soon, and Primo would be putting you to bed.

You curl up, using one of the couch pillows to rest your head on. You toss the blanket over your legs, watching the brothers play with half-lidded eyes. Over time, those eyes begin to close; before long, you're fast asleep.

. . .

Primo sighs. "I knew I should have taken them to bed."

"What?"

"Look."

The four men pause as your sleeping form is noticed.

"Poor thing," Copia mutters, "they must've had a rough day."

"They fell asleep to my album," gloats Primo. "They said they missed me."

"That is such bullshit. They probably had a playlist going and that's the song they were listening to," Terzo tells him.

"I went into their music library to pause the music. They were listening to my album."

The arguing is interrupted when a yawn is heard from your direction. "Whadya talkin' about?" You ask, words slurring from sleep. Your eyes open, and you sit up slightly.

"Don't worry baby, just go back to sleep," Copia says. "We're sorry to wake you."

"Wasn't sleeping," you rub your eyes, "Jus' bored."

"Alright," Primo stands. "That's enough. I should have tucked you in long ago. Come on, time for bed dolcezza."

You whine. "What about the game? Aren't you gonna finish?"

"We already did, long ago," Secondo chuckles. "You've been asleep this whole time."

"Was not."

"Were too."

"Alright, enough. Come on, kiddo. Bedtime." Primo hovers over you now, and helps you to your feet. You're wobbly, still sleepy, and press against him. He smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Ah, don't forget your blanket." He picks it up and hands it to you. "Okay, sleepy-time. Come on."

A chorus of "good night, sleep well!" can be heard from throughout the room. Unable to form a coherent thought, all you can think of to respond with is a soft-spoken "Night night." The room goes silent.

You hear Terzo giggle, followed by a loud smack, then; "ooow! What the Hell was that for?!"

Copia stands to bid you goodnight. "Pleasant dreams," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. "I would tell you to sleep well, but it already seems that you will." He winks at you. "Good night."

Primo acts as your support as the two of you walk down the hallway. When you yawn for the millionth time, he asks, "Kiddo, did you take something to make you this tired?"

You nod. "I had hives again, so I took three benedryl."

"Ah, now it makes sense."

. . .

"Comfy?" He asks, smirking at the way you're pressed up against him. You're curled up in his bed, half asleep with your head pressed into the crook of his arm. You've only been here a moment, but the drowsiness has already taken over.

"Mhm," you mumble, nuzzling further into him. A few moments later, you're asleep yet again.

"Sorry for keeping you up, kiddo. I would have put you to bed a lot earlier if I'd known." Your only response is light snoring. "Poor thing." He hadn't even been able to keep you awake long enough to make a trip to your bedroom for pajamas; he was thankful you'd dressed yourself in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that day. At least you weren't sleeping in jeans.

It hadn't taken him long to coax you onto the bed. You'd laid down first without him, waiting as he got dressed. When he'd returned a moment later, you were already on the verge of sleep, clutching his pillow and laying atop the covers.

Now he's got you cozied up to him, watching as your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Night night, little one."

[elizabethplaid]

Going back for a 2nd nap today? Yeah, but so is my dad. I swear, the sleepy bitch disease is so rampant today.

[rosesandthorns44]

Got a question for my fellow chronically ill peeps:

How the hell do you find people to date? Or even have the energy to date?

Between my full-time job and my full-time illnesses, I haven't had the bandwidth to date anyone for the past two years.

Dating apps seem mostly geared towards allosexuals. As a demisexual person, I've had trouble navigating them.

I don't know how to find someone who will accept me as I am. My one experience with dating a fellow disabled person was positive, but we lived way too far away from each other for it to work out long-term.

Mainly, I just want companionship. How does one find a QPR?

[eilooxara]

Maybe if I sleep all the time I will stop being tired someday

[brain-n-body-in-disarray]

The hidden life of a disabled/chronically ill person.

(Basically a rant about everything wrong in my life and in this society)

At this point I don't even know what's wrong.

Am I feeling exhausted because of idiopathic hypersomnia or am I at the beginning of a spondylitis flare up.

Do I even have ankylosing spondylitis? The symptoms list is a bit sketchy. I mean, there's something there in my body acting up, but... Anyway, I'm too weary to go through all that, the tests and so. I'll just die with my joint aching, I guess.

And am I crying because of the fatigue or is it the start of another depressive phase? Who knows? Not me. Maybe I'm just fed up of being this way.

What way it is, I don't even know anymore. I'm pretty sure there's a lot more laying there inside me to be diagnosed.

The point is, I've been in and out of so many doctors' offices and two decades later I feel like nothing has changed.

I see people over there, talking about their six months wait for a diagnosis, starting meds right away that changed their life. I'm so jealous. Are these people even real?

I lost count of how many specialists I've seen since middle school. I've lost count of how many times I've given up ever finding a diagnosis or a helpful hand. I certainly haven't kept a list of the doctors I came to hate for their incompetence and their cold dismissal.

I hate the healthcare system so much. There's specialists and centers and places I can't even access because I need other doctors' letters to even take an appointment. But the doctors I have are all incompetent morons that don't even listen to me. Where are the good doctors? Where do I find them?

*

And in the meantime, I survive. There's no other word for the way I live with so little money. How would I survive without the help of a family I'd rather be estranged with? The little money I get from the state doesn't cover for the bare minimum of living. I could get more if I applied for it but... I'd need to be fully diagnosed. The diagnosises I have now aren't enough apparently. I hate that there's people in offices that put a percentage on my level of disability and can decide of my future. Because I really don't know what I'd do if they'd reject my application. I'd be force to find a job that might just kill me, or maybe my bf and I would be forced to live with his father, living on what my family could give us for food. And what would we do the day they'll all be dead? Who'll help us then? Where would we live? How would we find food and clothes?

The state never cares about people like us living with dignity. They don't even care about us being alive. They'd rather see us dead, because we're wastes of money to them. So they don't want to help us. They do not care about making things easier and more accessible. They want us gone.

Okay, I didn't mean to go on a rant, but, well, that's the life of disabled and chronically ill people. We are more than our disabilities and illnesses, yes, but our lives can't be separated from them either. It's not just about 'spoons' or 'batteries', we need to think about so much more than that. And the irony in there is that it costs a lot of spoons. Abled people can have hard lives, sure, but they have more energy to spend and means to find solutions. They survive more easily. For us, it can mean death far more quickly, and no one cares.

If we can't take care of ourselves by working, earning money, making a place for ourselves in this broken society, we are devalued and outcast.

"Earning money". Do we have to earn our right to live too? Apparently so. At least, they won't try to make it easier for us.

Sure, there's stuffs that exist for helping disabled and chronically ill people. But it's enough sugar-coated bullshit to appease the people, to show enough kindness not to look heartless. I don't believe for one second they care for us, and you should not too.

They expect us being voiceless, because we are often silenced by our own lack of spoon. We live a life where we need more energy but have less than most people. It is thus unfair that we are the one that have to be our own advocates.

Sure, we have allies. But if there's one thing I have learned is that if you don't leave it, you don't know what people that live it really need. The best allies are forums. They're empty spaces that make the minorities' voices resonate, that emplify them. Allies' voices are echoes. But echoes can be dangerous, the original message distorted beyond recognition. So we need to be the ones to be heard. No small feat.

I know that I can't do that. I can only send tumblr posts into the void. Is that enough? It'll have to be, because I can barely remember to eat, I can't fight this battle on top of everything.

Kudos of the activists that manage to do it all. I hope you don't get burnt out.

[eleftherian]

they’re a 10 but they sleep 18 hours a day 🙃

[anthony-crowleys-left-nut]

fighting my demons (sleepy and horny)

[pastille-pain]

MAY-TA KNIGHT DAY 19

Kirby

And yes

This was an excuse for meta dad content