#and then went through outpatient sessions for the rest of the summer

[peony-pearl]

yeah I’ll say it again: there was no reason for Azula to be put in an asylum for a year and still be going through it that bad all for a breakdown that took, what, less than a month? If we take Zuko’s betrayal, then Mai and Ty Lee swapping sides(? we never really see them “turning good” they just prevent Azula from hurting Zuko and the Gaang but that’s a different discussion) and then her father’s denial of her joining him to the Earth Kingdom (then feeling like she’s being treated like Zuko - thus she’s suddenly lesser in his eyes) followed by Zuko defeating her (which, in her mind, is a whole new failure and she probably feels like she failed her Nation)... yeah that’s stuff that, if given proper therapy, she could have just stayed in a hospital, and within a year, possibly even be living back in the palace with a whole new outlook on life. The writers make it sound like Zuko just wanted her out of his hair which is not how you want to write your hero whose arc is based around growth and wanting acceptance and is forgiven by a family elder after he hurts him. Yes he’s a new Fire Lord and he’s got a lot on his plate, but to just handwave his sister away after he knows the pain of being denied by his family is... bleh (also you all know how much I hate Iroh's canonical endgame)

And I know that there were talks of a fourth season in which she got her healing arc (which would have been really great to see); but it’s such a mess that the comics just kind of decided ‘nahh let the teenager who’s been locked up for a year keep her antagonist role, that’s fresh right?’ Not the girl who was put on a pedestal until suddenly everything she did was wrong (which... yeah, she WAS doing wrong; but she’s been raised to believe everything she was doing was for a greater good for HER nation and the world. She believes she’s a hero because she’s doing what she was raised to do, and to them she IS a hero. She has daddy’s ‘love’ so long as she’s perfect and amazing - and then suddenly all of that gets absolutely obliterated right in front of her one at a time as she realizes everything she’s been doing to maintain her power is also driving people away. Being 'the good kid' until suddenly you aren'twill unravel you.). Zuko knows how that feels, to feel like everything he did was wrong. He knows how it feels to have to break away from realizing he’s been hurting people; to learn from that and how he needs to change his ways.

And not only that but the way they write Azula as a villain in The Search is just AWFUL like it’s boring af. They recycle the same beats over and over and no one gets the bright idea to stop the cycle it’s AWFUL everyone in that comic is a raging idiot.

idk I could keep going in circles and we already know the comics are awful but there’s my extra 2 cents on the matter. They took a character that was already entertaining and fascinating and denied her a really great potential arc to make her one of the best allies the Gaang could have (and Zuko could have some FAMILY) but nope. Let's retread the show but instead let's make it bad.

#atla meta #this is writing critique more than it is character critique #Azula #atla comics #fun fact! My breakdown spiral started in April and I was finally hospitalized in June #for a week #and then went through outpatient sessions for the rest of the summer #and then I went back to school and all I had was therapy after that #eventually found a psych too but I only saw her a few times #that whole post-hospitalization part of my life was........ a wreck #Fun! #but I am talking about a fictional little world here in this post and it's going to be much different than my own experiences but like #idk a kid with an already mentally warped point of view going through traumas (and yes #-being an antagonist that needed to be stopped) #still in mental conflict a whole year later???? #guys come on #long post

[glassandmetalwings]

Despite my intense negative feelings right now, I know if I don’t do something to acknowledge today I’m going to feel bad about it later.

I find it interesting that this I first heard this song a decade ago, when I was 13. I remember listening to it a lot, and wondering what my older self would say to me. So it seems only fitting.

Potential triggering content under the cut. See tags for details.

Today marks the 10th anniversary of the beginning of treatment for my mental health. 10 years ago today, I was admitted into the Eating Disorders Unit at Children’s for anorexia. I don’t know what I weighed when I went in, and anymore I’m afraid of finding out, but over basically a summer I’d lost a third to half of my body weight. The only reason I wasn’t sent to intensive care was because I was being willingly admitted. Again, I was 13.

I’d gotten...something of treatment before, but not much. When I was caught cutting in 6th grade, I went to a total of 3 therapy sessions before being declared ‘okay’. I took vitamin B capsules throughout 7th to help my mood, but we never treated the underlying issues.

There’s a lot I could say about my experience with anorexia itself, but...not today.

Treatment was challenging, but the EDU was at least a friendly environment. I felt the emotional equivalent of having my skin rubbed off with sandpaper-I was a big, raw nerve, but my only hope was to work through it. At one point when I was going through intensive outpatient, I was sent to the psych ward for a 72 hour hold. To this day, my whole family regards this as one of the worst decisions we ever made. Readjusting to the real world was just as rough, if not rougher. Throughout all of this, I had to be own advocate.

I’m not going to lie: I still feel like shit. Not the same way, in some ways worse. At least then I had the hope that we were going to find something to ‘fix’ me. I feel like I’ve relapsed in everything except my eating disorder, and even that has been a battle and a half.

But that’s not the point of writing this.

Like I said, when I was 13 and listening to this song on repeat, I would wonder what my future self would one day have to say. I have no way of going back to that little girl and talking to her, but...maybe she’s still in me, and I can still reach out to her.

Little me, I’m so proud of you. Choosing recovery was no small step-you can be admitted to the hospital a hundred times, but if you aren’t the one wanting to recover, if you aren’t taking control of your treatment, it means nothing. At least with your anorexia, you chose to be part of that 60% recovery rate. And in this belittling, disgusting society that tries to sell you self-esteem instead of helping you build it, and that has, in itself, an unhealthy obsession with ‘health’ and ‘exercise’, that’s not easy.

The road ahead of you isn’t an easy one. You have a lot working against you. Some days you will be miserable. Some days you’ll want to take scissors to your wrists just to see the blood. Some days you won’t want to get out of bed, but you’ll be too anxious to rest. Your nerves will be molten and the power of those emotions you’re finally feeling will hurt. And there will be lots and lots and lots of people that don’t get it.

But I’m here to tell you that you’ll at least make it this far. You’ll make it 10 years. You’ll make friends (and yes, because I know you’re constantly worrying about it, you’ll still have your two best friends from elementary school), you’ll do some pretty amazing school work (some of it pulled out of your ass last minute), you’ll discover new things you never would have expected.

You’ll perform solos-an entire song by yourself, even-at choir concerts. You’ll create beautiful works of art, and discover media you never imagined. You’ll be a teacher, and a juggler, and a yarn artist, and a writer. You’ll attend leadership seminars in Washington DC. You’ll become a Confirmation assistant at your church.

You’ll be a light in the dark and a source of love and strength. Your existence will touch and improve the lives of countless people. You’ll discover that there’s nothing that makes you feel more accomplished than having done that.

Also (and I promise you don’t normally swear this much), holy shit are you a leader. You’re the mom friend, and on more than a few occasions you’re going to get everyone out of a tight spot. Trust me, in about a month you’re going to learn how to put your foot down and say ‘no, listen to me’, and while you won’t do it often, you do it well.

Right now, you’re getting set up for your first night in the EDU, and Mom bought you new pajamas while Dad asks if you can have extra blankets brought in because you’re so cold. The reality is starting to set in.

You’re going to make it. I promise it’s worth it. It doesn’t always feel like it, even now, but it’s worth it.

So keep your chin up, baby girl. You don’t have to smile until you’re ready, but keep your chin up. Hold fast to those little moments of happiness and self-empowerment, because they’ll be your rock.

I love you, and I’m so proud of you. Hold on.

See you in the mirror in 10 years.

EDIT: Also you still really like P!nk. P!nk’s music seems to grow up with you. And she’s an inspiration. I’m not saying go to one of her concerts, because you might overwhelm yourself, but, seriously. She’s great.

#anorexia tw #eating disoder tw #self harm tw #cutting tw #gore tw #wings does things #I should make a save tag to look back on this

[letsdiscoverkitty]

Wednesday 15th February - Appointment update (1)

I honestly cannot wait for the day when these appointments are not so draining, I am quite simply exhausted. 

It was a good session though; we went for coffee and I got a medium CINNAMON soya cappuccino (highly recommend). We talked through the past week - most of which was spent swamped by depression - but there were positives and I have done a lot of journalling/reflecting and feel like I have reached a point of change. I told her about the food shop on Monday (her smile/face was honestly such a picture!) and the realisations I have had as well as the tough moments, the battles and the occasional arguments. Last week I was left feeling incredibly overwhelmed but slowly, as the week has passed, I have been able to dig a little deeper and begin to process it all.

We returned to last weeks discussion about my current situation and the crossroads I am standing at; it feels like there are 4 ‘options’. Number one is going for an inpatient admission - being zipped away in a fast bullet train to a certain place and then have to deal with going through a whole different journey. Number two is a very ‘safe’ path, which I have trodden down many times before; keeping things as controlled as possible, safe, secure, ‘slowly slowly’, saying what I know I have to and going with ‘the flow’ - this is a path that goes off in twists and turns and that will put off life and could likely lead back to a similar position in the near future. Pathway number three however is different - it is very unknown/foggy and before entering, just like when you board a rollercoaster, you are asked to drop off your bags and tools that you have used in the past, but it holds the prospect of reaching a destination/stop that I desire; University, moving on with my life. And lastly comes path number four, although I am not sure we can call a ‘path’, it is more of a dead end. A place of contemplation. A cliff edge to sit at and watch as life moves by.  And now, after what feels like weeks (and actually it has been weeks) of contemplation, of thinking, of teasing out and processing, I feel like I have finally reached a place where I have to make a decision. I think it is fair to say that I have worked bloody hard to reach this place; I have had to delve into depths of my mind that I would have preferred to ignore/not go to; I have had to think about things that I have not wanted to think about, reflect, process, explore and most importantly actually TALK about. I have hit hurdles, I have faced difficult realisations and hard truths, but I feel like my mind HAS begun to turn a corner. Cogs ARE moving and I really am trying to be ‘okay’ with this. I know that there will never come a time when I am 100% ready to change - it just isn’t realistic for anyone - but I CAN commit. I can make the decision, I can chose.  And today I sat there and I said that I want to get better and that I want to do things differently. I want to commit to this as an outpatient and I want the help to get better. Despite the fact that I have been thinking about this for a long time, saying the words out loud was a whole other thing. Saying them out loud and sharing them with someone suddenly made it a whole lot more real. It suddenly meant that I couldn’t back out, that I meant them, that they were REAL. E was amazing and so incredibly supportive and the smile on her face was a picture!! We agreed that what might help me commit to this is to write myself a ‘contract’ as such; it doesn’t have to be something written by or to someone else, but an agreement with myself - and I really liked that idea.  So there we sat, on a drizzle dark day in the middle of February, and we paved a way forwards. As E reminded me constantly; this is not a path I have to take alone. She and the rest of my team have helped others down similar paths before and they will be there with me every step of the way, just as my family and friends will be too. I do not need to take this all on my own shoulders, they are there to guide me and hold me up when the going gets tough. 

And so I let her guide me.  I shared my past weeks food diary and agreed to let her help me.  I have now come away with a very much increased meal plan that is not controlled all by me. One that has OPTIONS and VARIETY, but also does not allow room for anorexia. It has RANGES and proper dense items - no more little bits here and there.  Just before we parted, E looked at me and said how proud she was of me, and she begun to well-up with tears. She has seen me go through quite a number of tough patches since I started working with her last summer, and most recently has seen me in some of my darkest places in this relapse, but she has never given up on me and today I felt, for one of the first times, like I really wasn’t alone in this. 

Once she had left I would be lying if I didn’t say that my mind suddenly started racing and questioning every little thing/change we had planned. That the numbers were not scrutinised, the disordered thoughts rampaging around. But this time around I am trying to accept that these thoughts will be here; anorexia is not going to be happy about any of this, but I do not have to beat myself up over it. It is going to feel wrong. It is going to feel messy. It is going to tough and challenging and there are going to be times when I want to give up but, unlike in the past, I am accepting this. Nothing and no one is perfect; there is no “one right way to recover”. We are all different. And right now I may not be able to trust myself completely but I can put the trust in the people I have around me. This is not going to be easy; this is going to be so far from easy, but I am holding onto the hope that this will get me to the places that I want to be. That this will give me the possibility of a life beyond these prison walls. That it will be worth it. 

#personal

[enzaime-blog]

From Surviving to Thriving, Thanks to the Pain Rehabilitation Center

New Story has been published on https://enzaime.com/surviving-thriving-thanks-pain-rehabilitation-center/

From Surviving to Thriving, Thanks to the Pain Rehabilitation Center

Marissa Koscielski’s back injuries led to chronic pain that eventually forced her into a wheelchair. Participating in Mayo Clinic’s pediatric pain rehabilitation program helped her overcome the pain and put her back on her feet.

Marissa Koscielski leaped into the air on the steps of the Golden Dome at the University of Notre Dame. In a photo that captures the moment, Marissa wears a graduation cap and holds a diploma above her head. Her smile is bright, her legs bent in midair high above the steps.

Marissa had just earned a bachelor’s degree in mathematics from the prestigious university, which would have been reason enough to celebrate. But the leap represented so much more. Just five years earlier, Marissa was living with constant pain and had been told she might spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair. Back then, she couldn’t imagine walking, let alone jumping.

Then she discovered the pediatric pain rehabilitation program in the Pain Rehabilitation Center at Mayo Clinic, where she turned for help getting back on her feet again.

Landing in pain

Marissa’s journey to Mayo Clinic began the spring of her eighth grade year. Her gymnastics season was wrapping up, and Marissa’s coach had given the team a free day in the gym.

“I decided I was going to front tumble, and I kept falling,” she says. The falls hurt. But with a high tolerance for pain, and an athlete’s determination, she continued practicing. “I joked that I thought I’d broken my tailbone,” Marissa says.

It turned out that she had. X-rays also revealed fractures on both sides of her sacrum and multiple fractures in her lower spine, injuries she’d likely sustained earlier in the gymnastics season. The fractures were treated, but the pain in Marissa’s back persisted. That led her to doctor after doctor in her home state of Indiana. None could identify a reason for the continued pain. By the spring of Marissa’s ninth grade year, the pain had become so unbearable she left school and enrolled in an online education program. She’d become virtually homebound. That summer, her parents brought her to Mayo Clinic’s Rochester campus.

“It was great to meet kids the same age who really get what you’re going through.” — Marissa Koscielski

“At Mayo they started from scratch, trying to figure out what was going on,” Marissa says.

When her tests results came back, none revealed an answer. Marissa and her family went back to Indiana, where she started her second year of online education. The pain remained a constant companion. And gradually, a new and frightening symptom arose: Marissa began to lose feeling in her legs. By the end of her sophomore year, she had no control of her left leg. She was using a wheelchair, and doctors told her she might never leave it. Desperate for answers, Marissa’s family went back to Mayo Clinic.

“They ran more tests, and noticed a small spot on my MRI that had grown since the last test,” Marissa says. “They thought it might be a deep infection in my back and decided to do surgery to remove the mass.”

After the mass was removed, Marissa attended a six-week inpatient rehabilitation program at Mayo Clinic. When the program ended, she was still in pain, and she still couldn’t control her left leg. That’s when her care team told her about the pediatric pain rehabilitation program. She decided to enroll. 

Making strides

The pediatric pain rehabilitation program is a three-week, outpatient program for adolescents and their parents or guardians. It’s intense, with full days of physical, occupational and recreational therapy, as well as group therapy and lectures on stress management. There are separate lectures and group sessions for parents and guardians.

At first, Marissa was overwhelmed. “I thought, ‘How am I going to do this?'” she recalls. But she did whatever was asked of her. Before long she saw — and felt — results. “I started to get movement in my legs again.”

Over the course of the program, Marissa got stronger not only physically, but mentally as well. That’s by design, says Wendy Timm, a physical therapist who has been part of the program since it was piloted in 2008.

“We have kids come to the program in wheelchairs who leave walking or running. It’s thrilling to see.” — Wendy Timm

“The kids in the program have been dealing with pain for a long time and have often withdrawn from friends and activities,” she says. “Many of them are depressed when they come to us. They learn coping skills in the program. We introduce things like meditation and relaxation techniques to help them manage their pain.”

Participants also take inspiration from those around them. Admissions are staggered, which means there is always someone to look ahead to in the program. Those who are further along in their recovery encourage the newcomers.

“To a person, parents and kids all tell us what a difference the group support makes,” Timm says.

Marissa agrees. “It was great to meet kids the same age who really get what you’re going through.”

The program also includes mandatory social outings, such as group trips to go rock climbing, ice skating or to the mall.

“Many of these kids have become isolated, and part of what we do is help them learn to socialize again,” Timm says. “We want to get them back to who they were before pain took over.”

The approach works, as evidenced by the graduation speeches each participant gives before leaving the program.

“We have kids come to the program in wheelchairs who leave walking or running,” Timm says. “It’s thrilling to see.” And emotional, as well. “Parents cry. Kids cry. We cry,” she says. “It’s incredibly rewarding to be a part of.”

Racing ahead

Less than a week after she completed the program, Marissa returned to school for the first time in a year and a half. She graduated with her high school class, and four years later, from Notre Dame. She credits the program with helping her successfully navigate college life.

“I still follow the plan they set for me,” she says. It’s a plan that includes daily exercise and eight hours of sleep each night, habits that set her apart from many of her fellow students. “While my college career did not consist of wild behaviors, I believe I have grown far more than some of my peers physically, socially and mentally.”

“My health has improved so much over the past few years. This program is a hidden gem. It enabled me to go from being a survivor to living again.” — Marissa Koscielski

Today, Marissa is a graduate student in the university’s Esteem Graduate Program for technology and entrepreneurship. She’s eyeing a career in health care. “I want to help bring health and dignity back to patients,” she says. Her master’s project — creating a modified walker to be used in rehabilitation after amputations — will help her accomplish that goal. The design was inspired by her own experience using a modified walker at the Pain Rehabilitation Center.

Marissa has continued to move forward physically. Once she felt well enough to move again, she wasn’t content with walking. She’s become a runner, logging up to 8 miles at a time. She plans to enter her first road race soon.

“My health has improved so much over the past few years,” Marissa says. “This program is a hidden gem. It enabled me to go from being a survivor to living again.”

#pain medicine #Pain Rehabilitation Center #Pediatric Pain Rehabilitation Program #Pediatrics #Others