Gentle reminder that you need MOOD STABILIZERS for shit like bipolar and that you need to push for adequate care if your needs aren’t being listened to properly
I’ve literally had to push for adequate advice and care because my psychiatrist wants to say I only experience depressive symptoms when I’ve expressly told her about my seriously bad periods of irrational high moods (usually a mix of shockingly good humor and serious anger that can’t be quelled) as well as increases in severe anxiety, insomnia, and constantly doing things and making irrational decisions during these periods. I’ve ruined beautiful relationships and lost friends during these periods. This can be like a two week bender without any drugs or alcohol or anything.
This is not depression. Like those massive changes from “I’m literally the scum of the earth and do not deserve anything at all” to “I’m god and I don’t care who knows it and I can prove it to you by way of my decisions (that will turn out horribly later)” is not fucking depression.
And I’ve been trying to talk to all my care providers (doctors, psychiatrist, etc.) about the fact that even though the severe depressive episodes are somewhat relieved by my current treatment plan (like just a bit less severe than before), something is still not right and I literally am unable to handle when I’m not depressed either. The upswings are actually WAY worse than the depression itself.
And don’t get me started on the shit I hear and see coming in and out of my upswings. It’s scary because the walls literally fucking melt around me. I’m experiencing people with no faces and no recognizable voices when I look at people. Like where those things should be is distortion and blur. It’s terrifying.
I’m not self-diagnosing as bipolar or whatever because some people will get mad, but based on my monitoring of my own symptoms and literally years of research while I haven’t been getting adequate care so I can push for better help, I’m pretty fucking sure I have bipolar disorder with psychotic features. And I’m not getting the right care and the medication I’m on for depression (sertraline/Zoloft) is probably making a lot of my shit worse.
So yeah I’m mad. I’m very mad at the clear and obvious medical misogyny happening because I’m AFAB. I had to fight for SEVEN YEARS to even get a depression diagnosis, even though I’d shown symptoms of severe depression or at least depressive episodes since I was SIX. And my concerns and those of my parents (whom I hate for other reasons) got ignored for years.
I had to fight to even get a misdiagnosis so I could fight to open the door to an actually correct diagnosis at all. Do you see how utterly fucked up that is? Having to fight to go through even the wrong course of treatment to have a chance at getting the right diagnosis or treatment?? Let alone that people who need it can’t even get it at all??
Kids are perceptive as fuck. They don’t always have words for things but like… they know. And they try to communicate it. I knew something was wrong. Something still IS wrong.
So folks, let this rant tell you three things:
The way we go about psychiatric treatment is really fucking ineffective because at least in my experience it doesn’t fully take into account the concerns and symptoms of the patients and their families
Medical misogyny is such a real problem that it still prevents women/AFAB people, especially AFAB people of color, from getting the care and help they need and DESERVE.
Sometimes you have to scream and make noise and say “LISTEN THE FUCK UP” and there’s ways of going about it that but like sometimes you’re fighting to even be heard.
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RAINCODE 4KOMA COMIC PROJECT
This is another project that I'm currently working on with @kazinsblog! We adore makoyuma and they're our number one faves.
So we decided to make a little 4koma style side special of Kazin's mini series "The Kanai Ward Case Files"
This intro is the only normal comic in this story.
Prologue: Flu season hits worldwide, and Makoto calls Yuma one day and gives him the warning. Yuma notices his congested voice so he wants to head to to Kanai Ward to check on him. But meanwhile, Yuma is trying his best to hold his cough as he talks on the line. Only to suffer the fit after Makoto hangs up. He isn't well either.
When Yuma arrives in Kanai Tower finding Makoto completely disheveled and passed out at his work desk, he ushers the stuffy CEO to bed. The two were shown pushing themselves while being sick alone. But now that they're together, these stubborn workaholics will finally rest and break from their duties in order to take care of each other. (for the most part anyway)
further information below
Of course since I'm involved in this project, they're obviously not going to be doing well... XD But this story is going to be a lot more fun and lighthearted than others I have written. (It's essentially written in a silly sick filler episode of a cartoon kind of vibe) meaning less whump, and more sick comfort and hilarity. There may be a few somewhat whumpy ones here and there (I can't resist) but it won't be as common.
Full Story Summary:
This RainCode fan side story revolves around slice of life comedy 4koma style strips with scenes of Yuma and Makoto being sick together and spending time with each other in Kanai Tower for about a week or two. They both have different halves of cold symptoms, Yuma with throat based, and Makoto with nasal based. (hence the title) Various cute and wacky stuff happen between the two and their bond grows stronger spending this time off together away from their duties as detective and CEO. They may be sick and miserable, but at least they're in it together! What could possibly go wrong?
The comic strips will be drawn by Kazin, but there will be some bonus art that the two of us will work on together (similar to the title which was a collab by us both)
Also, both of us agreed that these strips should be posted on my blog rather than Kazin's. Reason being is that this story is based on illness and my blog is half an illness blog so it makes more sense to share it to mine. You all likely expect this sort of thing from me at this point anyway… XD (I’m also the director so I write the descriptions of them.)
And this series will continue to be ongoing so long as Kazin and I have ideas. (we currently have almost 100 strips planned)
I will update this in separate posts whenever more strips get fully digitally drawn by Kazin whenever she can work on them. With the tag #kanaiwardcasefiles h&h. Some strips will be random, some will be two parters, and some will have a timeline or are connected to others.
We both hope you look forward to this project! There will be a lot of funny and cute moments between these two, so we hope you makoyuma enjoyers are excited!
Also bit of a fun fact: This was inspired by when my mother and I had covid late April 2024. Something similar happened to us, and we each had one cold-like symptom more than the other. (her with coughing and me with congestion) So I thought of this idea for these two!
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it is so vitally important to me that aziraphale and crowley not only love each other but choose to love each other.
i don’t want it to be fate. i don’t want it to be god’s will. i want it to be a conscious and continuous choice.
i want aziraphale choosing every day of his goddamn existence to love crowley and all that he is. i want aziraphale choosing to love crowley not in spite of being a demon, but because he is a demon. i want aziraphale choosing to love crowley’s curiosity and creative wonder. i want aziraphale choosing to love crowley’s love of plants and gardening.
i want crowley choosing to love aziraphale’s passion for books. i want crowley choosing to love aziraphale’s desire to do things the human way even if he could just miracle it. i want crowley choosing to love aziraphale’s angel-ness because it is a fundamental part of him.
i want aziraphale choosing to love everything about crowley and vise versa. and i want it to be a very conscious and intentional choice.
it being fate negates the entire point of the story. good omens is a love story between an angel and a demon, yes. but that’s not all that it is. it’s a story about two occult/ethereal beings who choose humanity over the great plan. two beings who choose the world over armageddon. and they make those choices because despite it all they have chosen to fall in love with the world and with humanity.
it only makes sense that they choose each other. that they choose their love. it being fate or god’s will ruins the foundational pillar of their relationship. that they choose each other over and over and over again. year after year, century after century, time and time again. they always choose. they choose the arrangement, they choose saving the other from harm, they choose lying to protect the other.
it is always a choice. and it better stay a choice or i am going to be so devastated.
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Okay this is super pathetic but I just have to write it down lmao sorry please don’t read if you like me at all as a person
Like. I get so teary eyed when someone thanks me for writing something. I don’t think anyones ever thanked me for anything I’ve done in my job. Not sincerely. And why should they? It’s a job. Like yeah the emotional burden and physical burden is huge and I see death every day and deliver bad news every day and poke and prod and bleed and feel so much fear of hurting someone, of making a mistake, of missing something that could lead to someone dying, of my hands and fingers not being nimble enough and causing pain and a lot of the time it feels like I’m making no difference at all so it’s all just this dread dread dread dread of existing dread of doing something wrong dread of having to tell another person that they’re dying dread of the angry family members and not being compassionate enough but not too compassionate because carrying the burden of every death would kill me it would kill me
And even if the death is a good death, even if we help people have family and control pain it’s still death and no one is ever thankful. And like, the sheer audacity of me wanting to be thanked for something like this is frankly ridiculous.
But it’s so hard to come home after the usual 12+ hours however many days in a row emotionally exhausted to the point of indifference and not being able to say that a single kind word was said to you that day. I would take anything. Anything to make me feel that I’m more just a cog in the industrial medical complex. That I made a difference for anyone at all.
A student. A nurse. A family member. A coworker. Anybody. Just anybody to say that this effort is worth something. That I’m breaking myself for something. That anything I’m doing means anything at all.
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