pink-flower-ace

[pink-flower-ace]

[pink-flower-ace]

[pink-flower-ace]

[pink-flower-ace]

people will say "why cant the eldritch gods just be nice to humans :((" and then kill a bug for existing near them

[pink-flower-ace]

chronic illness really makes the weirdest ‘would you rather’ scenarios come to life.

like, would you rather: show up to christmas with no presents for anyone or show up having not showered for a week?

would you rather: feed yourself or do the dishes?

you can choose both but your penalty is to spend an unknown amount of time bedbound afterwards.

[pink-flower-ace]

The best way I can describe to an allo person how you feel about sex as a topic as a sex-repulsed or averse asexual is that it feels like a hype that never ends. As though Despicable Me came out and everyone around you was sending minion facebook memes to each other for years to come. The stores are full of minion themed products; they're in ads and your friends talk about them all the time. And deep in your heart you're like "I'm glad that they're able to enjoy something I personally don't like and am not interested in :3". But there is always this little voice in the back of your head that's like "If I have to see ONE MORE of these little yellow FUCKERS today then God help us all." You make an active choice to communicate only the former.

[pink-flower-ace]

rb to have a very aspec 2025

[pink-flower-ace]

You don't have to force yourself to bounce back so quickly. I read something recently that said "when you come in from a rainstorm, you don't expect yourself to be dry and warm right away", and it really resonated with me. It's okay to take time to dry off and warm up. Take the time you need to process what happened to you.

[pink-flower-ace]

[pink-flower-ace]

[pink-flower-ace]

In my own experience:

You keep mourning it, and you choose little bits and pieces that would be worth a flare up afterwards. And you shift to new smaller dreams as needed, and find as much joy you can in them, so the grief isn't everywhere all the time.

You try to get all the help that is available to you, one thing at a time - one phone call or e-mail at the time. Slow progress is still progress and very well done. There will be shit doctors and dismissive physios and scoffing friends and family, most likely, before and between actual good help. But you keep trying. Take time to cry about it, and time to recharge motivation again, and time to find someone differenr to try asking. But then you try again.

You tagged hypermobility - I have that too. For me, support garments are doing wonders. Specifically I have an orthopedic corset, wrist supports (Cattall lacy short, bought those myself), and compression tights both prescribed and bought from sports stores.

They are meant to be stand-ins whilst I strengthen my body to hold up better on it's own, but they are also kinda the key to me being able to strengthen anything properly because they take away so much pain from activities.

And probably the biggest thing for my improvement: play within the current limitations. Our bodies and brains have set new rules for what we are capable of. Every time I refused to accept how small mine had become and pushed past them, I got worse. Not just a flare up, but also a loss of another ability.

So I accepted that I was playing a different game than before. Not the kind of accept-this-is-my-whole-life, but a firm This is how it is Right Now. Today, or this week, or this month, or maybe - maybe - this year, I have to play by these small, boring, and painful rules. So I will, and I'll play by the well. I'll do as much as it allows, but still play it safe and make sure I never exceed this capability.

And a few months down the line I noticed the rules weren't so strict anymore. Some months more and I could change to somewhat more allowing rules completely. Same thing again with those. Then I overdid something and slipped back a set of rules, but following them obediently again let me progress up again too.

And within the rules I have right now, and have been for a good while, I have found a new dream for the future, and it's in several increasing steps so I can continously assess how realistic it is, and it will take time so I can work on training my body for what it needs.

The grief will still be present because that's what grief does. For sure, mine is. But we must still figurer out how be happy day to day and live as good a life we can. So keep hope and keep resilience close by too - by force and by crying, embedded in the grief if needed.

It can get better. I believe in you. Find something that can be worth riding out all the times it will get worse also.

PLEASE STOP FUCKING TELLING ME I NEED THERAPY TO COME TO TERMS WITH MY PAIN,

I’ve been in pain for six years now. I’m WELL aware that this isn’t going away. I’ve done everything. I’ve thrown everything at getting better because I so desperately want to. I do not need to come to terms with being in pain. And I know that it isn’t what they’re trying to tell me anyway,

They’re trying to tell me to come to terms with the fact that my life is going to be miserable. That I’m not going to be able to do anything any more, because I’m going to be stuck at home doing nothing all the time. They want to tell me to come to terms with pacing as my life. Pacing that removes my independence, my ambitions, my hopes and dreams because of just how much I’ll have to limit.

And that’s not it! I don’t want to come to terms with that. I don’t want to accept that all I’ll be is some husk in a house still alive because it would make other people sad if I was dead. A life like that? To me, it’s not worth living. All my mental health problems, and the closest I’ve ever come actually committing has always been because I couldn’t live such a limited life.

I’m mourning. I’m mourning everything I was told I could do. Every opportunity I get given and have to turn down. Ever dream I had that’s now a nightmare.

I wonder if any of these people ever sat daydreaming as a kid, about their future. About their job. Their wedding. Their kids. I wonder if they thought ‘maybe I could work in an active job!’ I wonder if they thought about walking down the aisle in their dream location. I wonder if they imagined running around with their kids. Everyone does, right?

Because I was 7, and I was drawing pictures of my wedding dress, and choosing the perfect beach. But how could I wear that dress when I trip over my own feet? And how could I walk on sand? And the ceremony itself- no, it’s far too long! My wedding will probably end up a small affair, casual clothes and a paper signing, because I can’t do any more.

And I was 8, and I wanted to be a conservationist. And when I was 10, and my OCD got in the way of that, I didn’t know who I was anymore. I wanted to work to get better so I could have that dream again- and I’m 13, and that’ll never be possible. I’m on my way to recovery with OCD and my pain starts, and I know that I’ll never be able to work with animals, because it’s too much. I’ll have to do a desk job- it’s just good luck that my back up jobs are artist or writer, and I’m decent at them. It’s no wonder I’m good at them- right now, they’re some of the only things I can do without pain.

And I’m 14, and I start to realise that actually, kids are a thing I can have as an adult. And I’m taking child psychology and I learn how to look after them best, and I’m so proud of myself because I’m volunteering with kids and I’m doing it all right, I’m going to be a great parent— but it’s taking its toll. I start to realise that I can’t run around with them anymore. I can’t play. I’m not mentally present enough from the fatigue and fog, from all the pain. I’m delegated to crafts corner. I stop volunteering. I can listen to kids, but I’m never going to be the type of parent I wanted to be. Is it even fair to have children?

And you know, there are things that make it easier. Maybe I won’t get my honeymoon to Italy where I visit the catacombs and churches, but maybe I can still wander around the city. I can try the food and admire the architecture.

And maybe I can still volunteer with animals. I could go and help out at a local shelter. Maybe I can have kids, and I won’t be running around, but I’ll be there.

If someone could just listen to me. If they could hear me, and tell me, that there was a way to still live and thrive and experience all the mundanities of normal life, even with whatever’s wrong with me. But they won’t. The only answer I ever get is to stop. To limit. To sacrifice.

I don’t want to mourn a life that never happened anymore. Is there even a way to live? What can I even do? What can I do?

[pink-flower-ace]

Hey, if you’re not as mentally quick as you used to be because of your illness- that’s okay. If you’re can’t think as fast or handle as many tasks that’s okay. You aren’t stupid, you aren’t unintelligent, and you aren’t less worthy of love or respect. It’s okay that your brain won’t or can’t go back to how it used to be. It’s different now, but it’s okay.

[pink-flower-ace]

Sex and romance are opt-in not opt-out. You don't need a reason not to do them. You should do them because you want to not because you feel obligated to.

[pink-flower-ace]

Love referring to my disabilities as “the curse” and my symptoms as “the demons.”

Sorry, I can’t come, the demons (being an eepy little guy) require my attention (nap time) on account of the curse. (chronic fatigue)

Yeah, no, the demons (hypermobile ankles) decreed that I cannot wear heels anymore, on account of the curse. (connective tissue disorder)

I can’t stand up to fast or the demons (heart rate spike) will steal my vision. On account of the curse. (POTS)

[pink-flower-ace]

[pink-flower-ace]

"you're so strong" "you're so resilient" "you're so brave" what if I don't want to be? what if I want to break down and cry? why do I have to be strong?

[pink-flower-ace]

As a chronically ill person, I’m not resting because I want to. I’m resting to avoid getting worse and because my body has given me no choice.