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my sexiest qualities are that ive never used chatgpt and ive never purchased anything off of temu <3

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It’s crazy and fucked up that being yourself is actually the solution.

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it's okay if your art isn't impressive to your friends, it's okay if you're not very good at any of your hobbies, it's okay if you don't share your life on social media. you don't have to be good and you don't have to prove anything. your life isn't a performance.

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Immunrendszer

én egy olyan apával nőttem fel, aki ha egynél többet tüsszentett egy nap akkor bevett egy doboz Aspirint és nekiállt hisztizni a háziorvossal ha az erre a kétségbeejtő állapotra nem írt ki neki vagy 6 féle bogyót.

na, ez az apám 2020ban a lezárások alatt felfedezte a Facebook-Blikk-Csillaggyógyító arany háromszög zseniális baromságait és feltétlen hívük lett, azóta csakis az immunrendszer jó mindenre. oltás? aspirin? egyetlen darab C-vitamin rágótabletta? szó se lehet róla, az immunrendszer megoldja a problémákat, elvégre arra van. akinek nincs semmi baja annak nem is lesz, fejben dőlnek el a dolgok.

és hát akkor most elérkeztünk a magas koleszterinszint/vérnyomás problémához. apám előadta hogy az immunrendszere majd beszabályozza a vérnyomását és nem fog beszedni gyógyszert, azzal milliókat keresnek a gyógyszergyárak. rendelt is gyorsan vmi tisztított vizet ami csökkenti a koleszterint meg ofkórsz a vérnyomást (nekem meg 8 órás állásom van, mikor árulhatnám a csapvizet a megbolondult nyuggereknek) és azzal senki nem keres, mert aki megtalálta csak a szállítás meg a csomagolás díját kéri el (35e), neki az emberiség a fontos.

öcsémmel felváltva ordítoztunk vele, semmi sem használt. anyám vállat vont, hagyjátok az apátokat, ő tudja. végül is a víztől kicsit jobb lett máris a vérnyomása. vele is kicsit muriztunk, de aztán elmentünk, lehetetlen a helyzet. anyám picit később becsörgött, még öcsémmel szakértettem az utcán hogy mi legyen. anyám tök nyugodtan közölte, menj már, napok óta a vérnyomásgyógyszert feloldom a reggelihez adott szörpjében, a koleszterinre kapottat meg belerakom a délutáni datolyás nasijába, szedi rendesen csak nem tudja.

két napja ezen röhögök, de irgalmatlan.

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Ha meglátom, hogy még egy insta/fb insmerősöm kócs, családállító, életforgatókönyv (?) készítő lesz (persze mindegyik a "biznisz" beröffentése előtt 2 hónappal még egy multinál robotolt/másodállás) akkor...

... akkor nem tudom mi lesz, de iszonyat zavar ez a kókler pszichoizé, és nulla ellenőrzés mentálhigiéné területen.

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I've noticed the other day how life is fundamentally different when living out of abuse. I had an experience of waking up in the morning, sleepily tapping over to the kitchen in my pajamas, wondering what to make for breakfast, and making a plan for the day. Completely careless and unselfconscious, thinking only about the food and what I wanted to do with my day. It hit me then how impossible every aspect of this would be, had I still been living in the abuse.

If I was still around abusers, my first thought in the morning would not be 'oh I'm so sleepy I'm gonna find something to eat', it would be 'Are they in the house, are they in the room, are they already mad at me'. I would be looking around cautiously, listening for every sound that indicates they're near me. I would be checking the clock to see if their schedule had already put them in their workplace or wherever they go, and then still peering trough the doors anxiously to see if the hallway is clear, if I can get to the kitchen. I'd be checking how I look to see if I'll be reprimanded for being in the pajamas in the common area. I'd change just to avoid the possibility. I'd be checking each item of food and wondering if it's okay to take it, or whether there's a chance I'll get yelled at or blamed for taking it. I'd be analyzing the last words and actions we exchanged to try to predict how close the abuser is from blowing up and possibly attacking me.

The rest of my day would be scheduled around avoiding them, or alternatively, being in the place where they could easily find me, because if I'm not where I'm expected to be, they might get mad. All of my activities could be stopped and prevented at moment's notice if they decided I need to be doing something for them at that moment. I could be yelled at for not doing something for them sooner, for 'making them say it'.

If I wanted to go out, I'd have to consider if this is allowed, and if they'd want me to stay inside for one reason or another. If I am outside, I'd have to worry about what's going to happen to my stuff if I'm not back whenever they're expecting me to be there, or what kind of angry state I'd find them in. It would be safest to notify them of everything I'm doing, but they might immediately call it unnecessary, stupid, offensive or otherwise inconvenient, and force me to drop it and do something for them instead. Secrecy was the only way to do things, but also risky in case some part of it turns out to be not allowed. There were never any clear rules to what is okay, it would change with their moods.

If I could hear the abuser's car parking in the driveway, I would run back inside of my room, as if it was the 'safe area', when it wasn't. It would at least take me out of their view, so they wouldn't immediately think to start at me. But if they wanted to, they could just go inside of my room and charge at me then. I would just delay being the target, putting myself out of immediate sight. Of course this also meant I couldn't leave any trace of doing anything in the home, so it wouldn't be noticeable I just ran away. Everything has to look untouched.

And then when they interacted with me, I had to make sure to not show emotion on my face, to not look overly confident or happy, to not show any fear or anxiety, to not look sad or upset, to not look angry. I had to act normal, or else. I had to try and defend my own actions and interests walking a fine line of 'trying to let them know I'm upset and unhappy about this, without setting them off and causing them to blow up at me for talking back'. And I'd be told off for this too, because 'how could I complain when people have it soo much worse and I am ungrateful for having a roof over my head'. I had to do whatever was asked out of me, and restrain from even expressing it wasn't what I wanted, for the fear of losing the roof over my head.

Unbelievable I just lived like that for many years. And now I can flop in my pajamas to the kitchen, eyes half closed, make a mess, and think of nothing but food and plans for the day, not worrying for a second that someone could target me for any move I make. I still get scared easily, but nobody attacks me anymore. I can take any item of food, for it is all mine. I can decide to go out anytime, come back anytime, no consequences. I decide what is good for me to do, and nobody else gets an input. I can think of my own interests, and disgreard what anyone else in the world could want from me, because I don't exist for their convenience, and I don't have to worry about it anymore. What I lived before feels absolutely intolerable now. Even one second of that is unsurvivable.

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they should make clothes that are designed by people who are familiar with human anatomy & physiology

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honestly you probably shouldn't go into the medical profession if you aren't prepared to treat patients with dignity and respect - even if your job exploits you, even if your bosses suck, even if you're exhausted.

yes, you are allowed to have feelings and be tired. but you have to be willing and able to either admit when you can't do something (and take the consequences), or put how you feel aside and do your job. for the sake of your patient.

you and your job may be harmed by the medical industrial complex's wrongness, but to your patients, you are part of the complex that is also gravely failing them. you have the power to be a force of goodwill and care, or an instrument of oppression.

that is what you're signing up for when you become a medical professional. don't like it? don't become a medical professional.

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Daily reminder that Remus knew all along that Sirius was an Animagus, and he must have known that was how he not only escaped Azkaban but also entered Hogwarts—and he said NOTHING.

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I didn't know that I didn't know.

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can someone recommend some beginner normal behaviors for someone looking to become normal

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I would like to see more people talk about how jobs treat disabled employees.

I used to prep, wash dishes, and cook at mellow mushroom. I had chronic pain that wasn't NEARLY as bad as it is today, but it was still very debilitating. I told my employer "i cannot stand more than 4 to 6 hours. I CANNOT do shifts longer than this due to my illness." And even though i made my boundaries VERY clear, everyday i worked it was 8 hours at the least and 10 or 12 at the most. I would go up to my manager and say "look i really need to leave, my shift is over, my chronic pain is killing me." And he'd say "we really need to here, you HAVE to push through." And so i did, and after one, ONE month of that job my crps got incredibly worse to the point where i could no longer walk my dog around the block which was .5 miles. I quit, and that was FOUR years ago, and ever since that day I HAVE BEEN BEDRIDDEN AND HAVE TO USE A WHEELCHAIR. It is my biggest regret in life.

My best friend who has seen my whole journey has recently developed undiagnosed chronic pain, and she is in the EXACT same scenario i was 4 years ago. Busting her ass at a pizza place with extreme pain that hurts her so much she tells me "im in so much pain i don't even feel like a person." She doesn't feel LUCID. And her manager and coworkers are saying the same thing "if you don't help us you will let us down, we'll be in the shit."

That job thats hurting you isn't fucking worth it. I promise you no money is worth losing all your physical abilities and never getting them back. Your coworkers and boss do not give a shit about you, so don't you dare suffer for them. They will never understand your struggle and they will never try. They truly think being understaffed is worse than whatever pain you experience. They would rather you permanently damage yourself than inconvenience them. FUCK THEM. DON'T FUCKING DO IT!

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Why do men enjoy when you get upset? Like when you get happy about something or bring up something you have good memories about and then they say something that they know will upset you. Does it feel good knowing you can make someone's smile disappear with a few words? What's going on with that?

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Igazi szívtipró igaz?

Ö az egyetlen fiú az egyetemi pompomlány csapatban. Megengedheti magának.

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Hinge

No, it is not a heartbreak, it is a brainfuck.