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.
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The members of the Justice League sat in silence, joined by a few members of Justice League Dark.
They were almost ready to start their meeting.
Almost.
"Where is John Constantine?" Batman stared at those gathered around the table, one spot currently vacant. Zatanna spoke up. "He's coming."
Batman narrowed his eyes.
"I don't know how," Zatanna nodded. "But he's coming."
The table was silent for a few moments, before Superman hesitantly spoke up. "Maybe he's running late?" At Batman's look Superman felt the need to add. "You know, he could've gotten stuck up with another magic user, or something."
Superman brought a hand up to rub at his neck as he laughed awkwardly, before promptly shutting up at the look Batman sent with an even more awkward smile. The silence was notably loud, such that it made it quite easy to determine who and where the sound of crunching came from.
Flash swallowed. "What?" He dug his hand in the bag of chips, only to pout at it being empty. He quickly ran from and to his seat in, well, a flash. Laying down his armful of chips, he picked up one and opened it, back to stuffing his face. "It's not like we're starting yet or anything."
Batman's eyes narrowed.
Flash blinked, looking down at the chips in his hand, the one on the table, and then back at Batman. He picked one up and held it out in his direction. "Want one?"
Batman glared.
Flash hesitantly brought his hand back down, before sticking his hand in his chip bag and eating some more, this time quietly.
Minutes passed by with the various League members gathered around sitting ramrod straight. A few more minutes passed, and they started to relax (except batman), a couple more and some of them started up conversation with each other, with some others joining in.
Batman took the time to work through a few files, giving the occasional grunt and hm whenever Superman and Wonder Woman tried to drag him into their conversation.
It was then that a noticeable heat spread inside the room, rising in temperature with each passing second until it was no longer ignorable. Just then, when the heat reached its highest point, with the members of the League already standing from their seats, a wave of black flame appeared in a circular pattern and the League tensed, magic gathering at the fingertips of some and battle stances being fallen into by others.
The circular flame shot up, high enough to reach the ceiling and not a second later, in its place was a giant mass of flaming feathers curled into a ball.
A groan came from the middle of it, and a few seconds later-with what sounded like a huff- did the mass uncurl just enough to see the owner of said groan.
"Ello." John Constantine raised a hand and gave a two fingered salute. Everyone in the room blinked at the man currently leaning against the- creature? Being?- in just pants. "I would say this isn't what it looks like, but its exactly what it looks like."
Zatanna's eyes narrowed, before she inhaled sharply. "Constantine." She hissed out quietly, as if trying not to draw the being's attention. "What is-" She gestured at the creature. "-He of all beings doing here?!"
"Being used as a living heater."
Zatanna blinked again in surprise as she stumbled over her words. "I- what-?"
"You heard me. It's colder than Santa's tits in our house, and I'm not paying even more money for a heater when I have a living one right here." Constantine deadpanned, very shamelessly sinking back into the mass of feathers behind him and giving a most certainly exaggerated sigh to prove his point.
"But- But he's," Zatanna gestures at the phoenix again, this time with both hands. "Him. How are you okay with this!?" That time she spoke to the phoenix, rather than Constantine.
The being in question peeked open an eye, before huffing in annoyance and closing back its eye.
"So uh," Flash spoke up, rubbing his hands together. "Not to interrupt, but uh, do you mind explaining for the rest of us not in the know?"
Zatanna blinked, staring at the other League members in surprise as if she forgot they were there. She awkwardly coughed into her fist. "Right, yes." She cleared her throat, before gesturing towards the giant mass of feathers. "That being is one of the more infamous of those heralding from the Infinite Realms, because that's its goddamn Duke." Zatanna rubbed her head, as if she were getting a migraine just thinking about it. "Constantine, how did you even-"
"We met on a rainy night, and he lit up my cig and proposed his love for me." Constantine said simply.
The League stared in bafflement. Zatanna had a skeptical look all over her face. "I'm not believing that. It's too much of a stretch, even for you."
Constantine shrugged. "Okay so would you believe me if I said I sold like half my soul and conned this other guy by swearing my soul to this big guy for his protection?" Constantine deadpanned.
"Yes, actually." Zatanna matched Constantine's deadpan with a look of her own.
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