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#medication issues
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all falls down - soapghost
Simon is spiralling. Spiralling down, down, down. Knows it will hurt when he hits the bottom. Knows he might not be the same afterwards. Knows he might not get up again.
He feels too angry at himself to even bother to try and take his antidepressants. So he hides. Hides from Captain Price behind his flat tone and balaclava. Doesn't even snap at Gaz when he pisses him off. And Johnny? Doesn't look at him, doesn't talk to him, doesn't acknowledge him. If he did, he might be found out.
He always knows. Knows when Simon is there mentally, and if he's not, you could bet Johnny knew where he was. Knows when Simon is struggling. He's gotten too good at reading Simon's eyes, at reading his tone. It's a terrifying feeling, to be known. Simon hates it.
So when Johnny corners him in the barracks, Simon wants to run. Wants to make up an excuse, wants to bolt. But Johnny, as always, knows. He blocks the door. He could push him out of the way, could knock him down. But that would confirm everything he wanted to know.
"Alright, LT?" He asks, his voice soft, coaxing, Scottish accent in full tilt. That's when Simon knows he's been caught.
"Alright, Sergeant." He hates it. Hates the way his voice shakes. He needs to leave.
Johnny approached him, sitting on his cot next to him. He radiates warmth, radiates safety. "Want to talk about it, then?" Simon doesn't want it. Doesn't want anything to do with it. He doesn't want to be seen, doesn't want to he heard.
"No. I don't." Simon bites out. He never will. But he crumbles when a warm arm winds around his shoulders.
"You don't have to talk about it. But I want you to know that I wasn't born yesterday. I know when something's wrong." His hand rubs up and down Simon's arm, and he wants to yell. Wants to tell him to step off, that they were just colleagues and he ought to mind his own.
Instead he leans onto his Sergeant's shoulder, his eyes refusing to meet the gentle blue ones so close to him. Lets himself be held. "You're a nosy wanker." His voice is too quiet to be threatening.
"Sure am, LT. If being nosy gets you to talk to me, I won't mind it." Simon feels a familiar sting in his nose and eyes. He panics, pushing away from the warm body. He wants to hide. Instead he covers his face. This can't be him. He is stronger than this, than the grown man who starts crying like a baby because another man gives him a little hug.
Warm hands take his, pull them away. They reach for his balaclava and gently, so gently, pull it off and let his weakness be shown to the world. It's all he can do to growl a warning, angrily wiping at his red, teary eyes. "Johnny."
"Simon." Warm hands touch his face, then. Wipe away his tears with none of the ferocity he had. He'd rather have been punched in the gut. At least then he would know what to do. This is new. Too new. Makes his skin crawl. Makes his heart skip a beat. He's convinced he's going to die.
"Look at me. You haven't looked at me once since I got here." It's more of an order than a request. Simon raises his eyes to meet his.
"You're scaring me, LT. Tell me what's going on so I can help you. I won't let you tell me you're fine. You'll say you're fine until the day I lose you to your own mind." He takes a breath, runs a hand through his hair.
"Give up on me." The silence after he says it is deafening. Simon is falling apart. Even as he sits in silence, he is falling apart. It startles him when he's brought into strong arms. Startles him more when he feels wet on his neck. His Sergeant is crying. Why? Why is he crying?
"Don't you dare tell me to give up on you. We're a team." His voice is soft, shaky.
"I don't want to be a team." He mumbles. "I never did. I work the best alone."
"Listen to me, LT. I don't care what things were like before I met you. But they're not going to go back to the way they were. You try to run away from me, I'll chase you down and drag you back. You're not too bright if you think this is a choice." He entwines their hands, pressing a kiss to Simon's knuckles. Simon feels like perhaps he's dreaming.
"Why? Why are you acting like this?"
"Because you and I are better together." He looked him in the eyes. "I want you to take your antidepressants. Stop skipping out on them. If I need to watch you take them, I will."
Simon wonders vaguely how he knows. But he always knows. So he gives up on that line of thinking.
"Fine."
"Thank you. Let's get you one, yeah?" He pats Simon's shoulder. "I need you in top condition."
So Simon took it.
"Thanks, LT." And with that, he's gone. If later Simon finds his way into Johnny's bed because the voices in his head got too loud, that's his business.
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This is a friendly reminder that none disabled people often do benefit from the same accommodations disabled people benefit from.
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uncanny-tranny · 8 months
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Fat people deserve mobility aids, too. No matter if it's connected to their fatness or not, because having a mobility issue that is connected to one's fatness won't change that they're still fat and still have the issue at hand. Fat people don't deserve to "tough it out" because fatness should be this divine punishment doled out to those who "deserve" it. Fat disabled people deserve to have the peace of mind that they can exist in whatever way is most comfortable and accessible to them
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nerdpoe · 4 months
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Lucius Fox is in the drive thru for some coffee, and like. He's just. He's had a time, okay?
He's stuck on some equations in regard to the amount of torsion a joint would go through if it's half in his dimension and half in another, and it's driving him up a wall.
He's been up for like forty-eight hours, he's tired, he's thirsty, he just wants a coffee, and also how to solve this dilemma.
He doesn't expect the barista in the drive-thru he's ranting about the engineering issues to actually provide decent feedback, and give him a few alternatives.
So he rushes to the pick-up window, not even caring to order, to look at this godsend of a barista.
It's a scrawny kid with black hair and blue eyes, looking startled. Boy can't be more than eighteen.
He asks what college the kid is going to, or plans to go to.
To his absolute horror, the kid-Danny, according to the nametag-says he can't afford college. That he'd had a stint in highschool where he just hadn't been able to focus, and his parents had spent every penny they had on their own inventions.
So that was why he was a barista; because if he worked there for four years, they would offer tuition assistance.
Which.
No. No no no no no.
Lucius pulls around to march into the store, Bruce Motherfucking Wayne already blearily on his phone.
He is getting this kid, and any friend of his, into college.
If Bruce won't foot the bill, he will.
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killldeer · 9 months
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UPS WORKERS HAVE REACHED A DEAL THAT MEETS THEIR DEMANDS AND AVERTED A STRIKE!!!
EDIT 7/27/23: please reblog this version of the post instead! it provides a fuller picture of what’s going on and explains why this isn’t over yet.
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inkskinned · 3 months
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you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.
(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)
but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.
(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)
there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.
(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)
you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.
(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)
you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.
in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.
but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.
they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.
it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.
#spilled ink#warm up#can you tell what i'm mad about today specifically#i will say that there are a LOT of things that go into this. like a lot. this is ungendered and unspecific for a reason#it isn't just sexism. it's also racism. and ableism. and honestly classism.#and before a healthcare professional reads this as a personal attack: i understand ur burnt out#we are ALSO burnt out. your situation is also dire. this is not an attack on you.#this is a commentary on the incredible amounts of bigotry that lie at the heart of capitalism#where people have to pay money out of pocket to be told to fuck off.#your job is important. so is our humanity. and if you cannot accept that people are fucking mad as hell#at the industry - you are probably not listening .#anyway at some point im gonna write a piece about sexism specifically in medical shit#but i don't want terfs clowning in it bc they can't understand nuance#> it is true that ppl w/a uterus are more likely to experience medical malpractice & dismissal globally#> it is also true that trans people experience an equally fucked up and bad time in the medical field#> great news! the medical industrial complex is an equal opportunity life ruiner :)#(if you find it necessary to go into a debate about biology while discussing medical malpractice#i want to warn you that you're misunderstanding the issue. because guess what.#cis MEN might experience this. particularly black men. particularly disabled men.#so YES having a uterus can lead to more trouble for you. but this happens a LOT.#instead of fighting those ALSO experiencing your pain.... try working WITH them.#which btw. is like. actual feminism.)
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moxsquanch · 20 days
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ive got mad house md posts in my camera roll ive got to start posting them
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transgendz · 1 month
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My roommate and I are financially unstable while he does through a long, complicated diagnosis process that started as we stopped being homeless. I just got a job, and it's going to pay well and allow us to get caught up and stable, but I don't get my check for a week and a half. We have rent due on the 1st, our storage bill due at the end of the month, and we are out of food.
Dm me for proof or details
I will do art for anyone who gives, just message me @theartistrans I also take commissions there.
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Dm me for zelle
$creepiecrippl
V
PP
$0/$900
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neurotypical people will be like "yeah loud noises bother me too" and meanwhile i once had to sit in a closet clutching a pillow sob-rocking for 2.5 hours because a fire alarm went off for a few seconds
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leaf-kei · 5 months
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this dynamic
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dvrcos · 3 months
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Aaron may not have an eidetic memory like Andrew does but he has a damn good one and he can remember anything he puts even the smallest amount of effort into remembering.
After everything that happened in Baltimore Aaron starts to note every small possibly important (and unimportant) medical fact about the foxes. And he’s not even totally conscious he’s doing it.
He consciously remembers Andrew and Nicky’s blood types. He knows Nicky’s allergic to penicillin and he knows Andrew doesn’t react well to doctors so it’s best for everyone if he can be administered some kind of sedative right away.
And then he thinks he should probably know this stuff for Kevin, and begrudgingly Neil, because they’re part of his strange little family that Andrew’s created. So he quickly and easily finds this information on them (because he’s a Minyard and he just knows how to find the things he needs to know). So he knows their blood types and he knows Kevin still feels residual pain in his left hand but doesn’t show it and try’s to ignore it. He knows Neil heals annoyingly quick from his all too common injuries but he also knows he aggravates those injuries easily by pushing himself too soon.
But it doesn’t stop there, there’s a small itch in the back of his head driving him to find out the important medical facts about the rest of the foxes. So he allows himself to remember their blood types and allergens and tells himself he needs to know incase of an emergency.
But he also notices that Matt has a high tolerance to pain medication whenever he’s being treated by Abby for an injury during practice or a game. And he notes the one type that works for him and keeps multiple bottles on him and in their room. (It’s also the only type that works for Kevin and works best for Neil so he stocks their room with it too)
And he notices that Allison is a slight germaphobe and applies hand sanitizer anytime she has to touch a public door handle or they go out to eat. So he opens as many doors for her as he can despite the confused look he gives her every time and he just glares right back at her. He keeps an extra mini bottle of hand sanitizer in his backpack for her as well and silently passes it to her when she’s forgotten hers.
He notices Dans chronic knee and lower back pain that Abby is constantly treating and how there’s always a rotating rainbow of colorful KT Tape on her. So he keeps an eye on Abby’s stock of tape and when a color is running low he casually mentions it to her to order more and then walks away.
He notices how Renee always picks at the scabs on her knuckles that result from her sparring with Andrew. He figures the wraps she has are getting old and silently leaves a new pair on the counter the next time he’s in the girls dorm, along with a box of bandaids and a tube of antiseptic ointment. He leaves a matching set of supplies in Andrew’s dorm as well just to be safe.
He doesn’t consciously realize that what he’s doing is protecting and taking care of the Foxes. But the others catch on and smile fondly at him because he’s letting himself care for them and become part of their family.
And the one time Dan mentions what he’s doing for them he looks at her like she’s crazy. He tells himself, and her, that that’s not what he’s doing, he’s just a future doctor and someone needs to take care of these injury prone idiot athletes and no one else besides him and Abby are going to do it right.
Aaron would definitely be so observant and acutely aware of the Foxes physical well beings despite him insisting he doesn’t care and hates them all. But he basically becomes Abby’s right hand man and teams second nurse because it’s good practice for his future and he knows them.
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sopranoentravesti · 16 days
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Gonna make a controversial statement—people on this webbed site had more compassion for the poor white rural Trump supporters than they do for Jews
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uncanny-tranny · 10 months
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Social transition being seen (by some) as this super easy thing that isn't as hard as real transitioning (medical) is bullshit. Be critical of the idea that there are some trans people who just "have it easy" because they are trans or because they are trans in ways you may not be.
Social transition is just as difficult, hard, and rewarding as medical transition. Maybe it is not as hard for some, sure, but that is not the same as thinking that social transition is inherently easier or lesser. If you're socially transitioning, your voice still matters.
#trans#transgender#lgbt#lgbtq#ftm#mtf#nonbinary#not to mention that so many people DO want to medically transition but *can't*#so it can be even harder for some when they feel social transition is their only option when they don't want it to be#but social transition carries its own risks and challenges and again rewards#and i've seen this idea plenty where it's like 'oh you don't GET my struggles because you're SOCIALLY transitioning'#and while yes i am different than some trans people to say i'm struggling *more* if i'm the only one medically transitioning is??? huh????#i don't buy into this idea that social transition is never scary because you don't have the boot of the medical system on your back#(though non-med or pre-med transitioning people still face issues in medical settings so even THEN we aren't seperate)#like there's very few ways you can separate my issues as a medically-transitioning person and the issues of somebody who isn't...#...and by that i mean there's few ways you can separate our issues so that mine trumps theirs or that i'm seen as like... trans but More#does that make sense?#medical transitioning is important but that doesn't mean it is *more* important or that only *it* is important#you can support us who are medically transitioning without erasing the experiences and struggles of other trans people#and plus... so many of us who are medically transitioning NOW are the people who socially transitioned THEN#and dare i say i despised social transition more because of how hard it was? medical transition has been (more or less) easier...#...in that i can just *be* now
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little-pondhead · 2 months
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The Curse Of Hope
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Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.
The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.
“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”
That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.
Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.
“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.
The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.
“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”
Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.
The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”
Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.
-Or-
Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.
Luckily, Danny can provide that help.
But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.
#dpxdc#pondhead blurbs#Gotham is very lanky and tall and had dozens of necklaces around their neck#the necklaces are just cords filled with lost things the citizens have lost over the years#like bits of glass or wedding rings or hag stones made from a destroyed gargoyle#actually I have a weird picture of Gotham in my head I might draw it#it’s giving Bloodborne to me but idgaf#basically Danny meets Gotham and is trying to convince them to go with him for medical help because what the fuck#those curses are the equivalent of leaving hundreds of leeches stuck to your body for ten years#Danny is BEGGING Gotham to come with him#there’s potential for angst but if you want crack then Danny probably replaces Gotham#I think there’s already a similar fic where he becomes the new spirit of Gotham but I haven’t read all of that#anyways the Batfam are like#invasive animals that are actually helping the ecosystem recover from an even WORSE invasive species#but they aren’t supernatural heroes and they don’t understand that the issue is deeper#I’m calling this the Curse of Hope because Danny is offering hope to Gotham#but Gotham is just so tired and sick and hurt that they don’t want to risk it#they think Danny is another curse come to plague them#should he just straight up adopt the city at this point?#idk it probably depends on how it’s written#sad course is to let Gotham die. happy ending is where they are treated and returned#crack ending probably has Danny adopting the city and introducing them to his own city spirit Amity Park#oh shit is that a new ship#guys please I can’t keep doing this#Gotham City x Amity Park#how the fuck do you come up with a name for that#Burger Joints?#Wet Pavement?#bro idk I’m putting this down before I make something I might regret#low key wanna write this but like. I have so much to do
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schizopositivity · 3 months
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Here's a reminder to fight the internalized sanism/ableism in your head.
If you have executive dysfunction, don't compare your productivity to people who don't.
If you have anhedonia, don't compare your struggling to keep up with hobbies to someone who doesn't.
If you have paranoia, don't think of your fears as any less valid than the fears of someone who doesn't.
If your meds make you tired constantly, don't compare your energy levels to someone who doesn't take those meds.
If you have issues with concentration, then you won't be able to pay attention as well as someone who doesn't.
If you're in the deep end of a pool, then you can't compare how well you keep your head above water to someone who is standing in a kiddie pool.
Please try to think of these things when you feel "lazy" or "childish" or "a failure" compared to other people that don't struggle with the same symptoms as you. If you have a mental illness that will affect how you act in everyday situations, then it will in fact affect you in everyday situations. It's not an excuse, it's just a reality. We need to try to be kinder to ourselves.
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making these is the closest i have to a hobby btw
similar posts: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
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