something the women in my family are absolutely flabbergasted by every time it comes up is the fact that i don’t own a scale.
“how do you know how much you weigh??” they cry.
“i don’t.” i simply respond.
“you look thinner, have you lost weight?” they ask at christmas.
“i dunno.” i say as i check on the turkey.
“you look bigger, have you gained weight?” they probe, as if my weight rests on their shoulders.
“i’m not sure, but it’s fine if i have.” i respond with a casualness they cannot comprehend.
“don’t you want to know if you’ve lost or gained?” they inquire over cups of coffee and a plate of untouched cookies.
“i do.” i take a sip. “which is why i don’t need to know.”
“we don’t understand.” they say.
“i’ll drive myself mad if i know. it’s been a question i’ve been looking for the answer to since i was in the seventh grade and my weight was the topic of conversation for the first time; the stretch marks on my calves puberty brought being questioned and condemned. and so i started weighing myself once a day. then twice a day. i gained weight as i grew and was told to stop. i got depressed when i was 16 and the weight i gained was more concerning than the scars on my thighs. the critiques turned to compliments during my first year of college when i’d started skipping meals and my body had to feed itself because i wouldn’t. everyday i stepped on the scale and smiled as i watched that number get smaller and smaller. hunger felt like victory. i started doing drugs that took away my appetite and then my strength. and started feeling guilt when my stomach felt full. and suddenly every time i looked in the mirror i hated what i saw. the more weight i lost, the better i was supposed to feel. each remark on another part of my body lost felt like a slap to the face. i was told i looked good but i knew i wasn’t good enough. and so i tried harder. and then i started to get dizzy when i stood. and i ignored it like i’d learned to ignore my hunger. and then one day at work i dropped like the weight that was never enough after i bending at the waist to grab a milk cap from the floor. and when the darkness faded, i was surrounded by panic as an ambulance was called. and then i was tested and prodded and poked because they thought something was wrong with my heart. and the problem persisted but they never found out why. but i’d known all along. and then i left home and its scale behind. and moved into a new home that was mine. so i bought plates and sheets and art for the walls. but i didn’t buy a scale. then every time i walked down an aisle i’d see the them and pause. and i’d think about the hunger i now kept at bay. and even though i didn’t know how much i weighed, i didn’t notice my body had changed. and i’d think about how i hadn’t been dizzy for months. and how i hadn’t fainted for longer. and then i’d keep on walking. and now most days i like how i look.”
“but don’t you want to be skinny?” comes their quiet response.
“i want to be myself in whatever body i have.”
they stare in disbelief. so i shrug my shoulders, and grab a cookie. and i smile at them as i swallow the first bite.
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It actually does bother me that eating is treated like spending money - that you have an allotted allowance in the form of calories that you are supposed to budget.
"How are you spending your calories?" I'm spending them on experiences. I'm spending them on time with my community, my people, those who matter to me. I'm spending them on satiating a human need. I'm spending them on the feeling of being alive and not just living.
If there is one experience that I don't want to "pay" for, it's the basic human right of comfort, security, community, and care.
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For real tho health freaks who scream about how sugar and salt will kill us all and try to push for restrictions on things like candy and chips for SNAP recipients or politicians who try from time to time to replace food stamps all together and give out Government Approved Staples like bread and peanut butter and Government Cheese are gonna kill a whole lotta sick and disabled people like
Diabetics
POTS sufferers
Hypotensives
People with peanut allergies
People with celiac disease or wheat allergies
The lactose intolerant
People who can't eat solid food
People who are undernourished for any reason and need all the calories they can pack on
So-called "picky eaters" who can't tolerate certain tastes and textures without getting violently ill
A myriad of other human conditions that cannot be neatly tallied into categories because the human body and human experience is vast and infinitely variable
But I don't think ableds really care about us and our health like they like to claim so they can harass us about it, do you?
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Thinking about how the players of Double Life immediately started subtly being more careful because of the soul bonds. Thinking about how even though this is a death game, even though the goal has always been to stay alive at all costs and take as little damage as possible, I heard so many variations on "I'm going to have to get used to taking care of you, too" from so many of them, followed by them taking much better care of themselves. Thinking about how out of their way they go not to take small amounts of mundane damage from falls and drowning because the harm feels different when it isn't just you suffering it. Just...thinking a lot about that.
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child of the old path wip
“Deku!” shouts Kacchan. “Heard you’re running around with some old geezer now! What, was All Might no longer enough for ya?”
Torino’s thickly-gloved hand curls into a fist. Izuku registers a faint curl of disdain twisting the pro-hero’s mouth, which seals into a thin line; behind him, the Seventh sighs. She fails to ask Gran Torino for patience. So it falls to Izuku to placate Gran Torino with a quick, “Let me talk to them,” and he meets his class, step for step.
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“do the hardest task first”
no. just… no.
hot take: this doesn’t work for people with adhd (in my experience/from what i’ve heard from other people with adhd in my life). i recommend doing the easy/moderately difficult stuff first, that way you can convince yourself that it’s all going to be this easy and undemanding. then hyper-focus will kick in because your brain is like, “yeah, we can do this, we’ve got this.” then, before you know it, you’ve completed both the easy tasks and the hard tasks while hyperfocusing.
like, on a serious note, it’s always been easier for me to convince myself to get the most difficult tasks done when i’m already working/in the working frame of mind, not when i’m laying in bed or sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through stuff on my phone, and struggling to start at all.
if the choice comes down to you not starting at all or starting with the easiest task first (which, for me, it often does), always, always pick starting with the easiest task first. sometimes you need a small victory, a little bit of an accomplishment, to give you the courage to take on bigger challenges.
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