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n1ghtcrwler · 3 months ago

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When I first got my autism diagnosis a few months ago, a handful of people in my family asked if I was okay or how I was taking the news, and that confused me. "This is just data," I told them, "I learned something that is true and can give me information on aspects of myself, there's nothing to feel about that. It simply is." And I meant that, I really did. But it was also very, very new, and I don't tend to respond with snap emotional reactions.

See, this hadn't been a real consideration before. When my brother took his first college psychology course back in, would have been somewhere around 2005-2007, he went to my girlfriend (who was at the same college as him) and told her he'd learned about a thing called Asperger's and that aspects of it reminded him of me. So she told me, and we looked it up, and based on what little info we could find we determined it didn't really fit, and I dropped it there. I later learned that autism existed, and its relationship to the Asperger's I had read about back then, by meeting and befriending a number of autistic people. But because I had ruled it out already, no amount of connection to those people, or visible similarity between us, made me wonder. So I didn't have years of wondering and considering and researching under my belt. I didn't start wondering and then slowly learn it was true of me, as seems to be a commonality in other stories I hear. I only got a neuropsych test because Carol noticed during her ADHD assessment that I sounded neurodivergent, and asked me to get an assessment as well. Then the pre-assessment showed that I should get a more broad-spectrum test instead of an ADHD assessment. Then the pre-assessment for the neuropsych showed that they wanted to focus on a couple things, one of which was autism.

And that was the first time I was aware, in nearly two decades, that this was a possibility, though it was one among many. And I didn't put too much thought, or any research, into it at that point because I didn't want to get a notion in my head and then act that notion out and get misdiagnosed with anything. So the results were a bombshell that just didn't fully explode right away.

Because now that I've had a few months to think about it, and learn a little bit, I find myself sad and angry. I went 41 years of my life with no knowledge of this, and no support, and no real answers. And maybe I could have put more effort into it in 2007, maybe I should have tried to get assessed then, but I didn't have money for that! I could barely hold down a job unless it was pizza delivery (I wouldn't realize until THIS WEEK how much my love of that job hinged on my systematic understanding of plotting courses on the fly and the literal hours of my day I spent alone in my car interrupted by brief, largely scripted, social interactions), I didn't have insurance, I was in my early-to-mid 20s and heavily self-medicating. But then my parents are telling me they wish they knew, that if they had known they would have maybe understood what was going on with me better and things could have been different. And I get them not understanding! What, really, could I expect two teenagers in the 80s to have known about autism? I don't think they need to beat themselves up for not recognizing it for what it was. But Carol, talking about her ADHD diagnosis, said something shattering. She was talking about the mockery and the lack of support for her needs, and said that, while it is nice to know she had a reason to be the way she was, it didn't really change the fact that other people had no reason to be cruel. And it really highlighted the question for me, "if things could have been different, why weren't they?" Did you need a diagnosis to see I was struggling? Did you need a diagnosis to know it was cruel to mock your child? Did you need a diagnosis to want to accommodate needs that made me stand out as weird?

Why did it take FORTY ONE YEARS for you to think things could, maybe should, have been different?

We sat down with the younger two kids this afternoon. Our youngest has been formally diagnosed with ADHD, and we wanted to help him understand a little of what that means for him and how much he shares that with his mom. Our daughter, it's obvious to us, has some form of neurodivergence, but since it isn't affecting her grades or her ability to keep out of trouble in school, they haven't noticed it; and without the school noticing it, it is prohibitively expensive to get her tested. So we wanted her to know what to look for, and that she doesn't need a diagnosis to come to us. We don't need a diagnosis to try our best to accommodate her needs. And this will involve breaking some habits, because we learned how to be parents from our parents, and our oldest already lost so many years of possible support to our lack of understanding, and we can't get those back. And I understand, to some degree, why it took a diagnosis for my parents to reconsider the ways they were taught to parent; because, while I tried to break the habits I inherited, it took a diagnosis for me to find a path toward success in that.

Everyone in my household is still learning what all these things mean for us, and how to handle them. And I guess there's a degree to which I'm mourning what my life could have been if I had known, or at least had some kind of help. It isn't just data, it turns out. It's also a history, and a set of needs, and to an extent, permission to meet those needs. I started wearing sunglasses indoors more. I've always wanted to, because the light hurts, but when it was just a stupid thing that's weird, I couldn't justlfy dealing with the fallout and assumptions from others about it. But now that it's an accommodation to a sensitivity, I can maybe get comfortable with it. I feel like there's a long road ahead, and a lot of baggage to unpack, but at least that's possible now. And who knows? Maybe, among my family, things will finally be different.

#autism #keeping up with the McLaughlins #actually autistic #adhd #neurodivergent #parenting

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sneakertin · 29 days ago

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auughhhrh. i think i have adhd but. maybe i don't. idk. i don't wanna self diagnose but at this point im torn between thinking "there's no fucking way i don't have it" and "but what if i don't". getting a diagnosis is Impossibly difficult and stressful and expensive and we barely have any even remotely working medication where i live so it's not really an option for now. but if i do have it then that means there's an explanation for everything that's wrong with me and it all has a reason and it's not something I'm personally responsible for. but if i don't then that means that im just a lazy stupid nobody with no ambitions. which would be very sad but goddamn there are way too many symptoms to even consider myself being neurotypical. for some reason i feel like it's getting worse and worse everyday but that's probably because i just started uni and there's a lot of change in my life and i haven't been getting enough sleep lately cus i physically can't fall asleep before midnight or sometimes even later but i have to wake up at six. and also because there's a thing that constantly stresses me out at all times(calculus) that i feel like i genuinely can't do anything about even if i try really hard. but i just constantly feel like I'm not in control of my own brain. focusing is so damn hard and even when i do focus i loose it very quickly and end up just bouncing back and forward trying to keep my mind in one place. when i try to read something for homework it feels like my eyes just don't wanna look at the screen and i have to force them not to look away. every couple of minutes or less my thoughts drift away and i only notice it afterwards. when i try to sit down and watch a calculus lecture in hopes of understanding this little personal hell of mine i feel soooo frustrated it almost feels like physical pain and i just turn it off after two minutes. i can't do anything and i don't want to. every task feels like there's a weight on my shoulders. I'm so irresponsible. i keep ignoring or putting off stuff that i need to do and someday the consequences will catch up to me. i don't wanna study. i just wanna do only the stuff that i like all the time. i wanna waste money and go to pretty cafes and buy snacks and be on the internet and watch my fav shows and read fanfiction and read books and analyse literature and watch movies and cry because of them and watch video essays and sometimes cook and clean and draw and draw and draw all the time. which is so embarrassing because im so privileged. i have the chance to get education and yet i feel like I'm not grateful enough and i feel so guilty for being so lazy all the time. im not saying that i wanna drop out, no. but the situation is that I'm not studying what i wanted rn but I'm gonna transfer to where i want at the end of the semester but that means i have to study all these subjects that i despise and don't understand at all and somehow not get expelled till january.

ok, so, i started writing this when i was a bit overstimulated but now that i have written my thoughts down i feel like things are fine now and i feel better. urghh. i don't even know if should post this now. that's so embarrassing, why am i so dramatic.

anyway. but i do fuck up things in my life very often because i put off things that i don't wanna do. when i had my extremely important school exams that would determine whether i get into uni or not, i barely even studied for them. i only did like a day/half a day of active studying for each subject. i kept procrastinating even when that fucking exam that some people have mental breakdowns over was due to be the next day. i did get into uni, but not into the course that I wanted, because my exam results were not quite enough. but that wasn't really a problem because i could've easily transferred to where i want at the very start of the semester, but. i kept putting it off and it turned out you can only do that during the first two weeks and now I'm in the situation that I've described earlier. and don't even get me started on the shitshow that happened when i was in driving school. and it was all entirely my fault. and school in general have always been difficult for me but in school i could get away with not doing anything cus im not stupid, and i even had good grades. but that doesn't work in uni cus in uni they don't teach you anything, you learn everything yourself, and i quite literally can't study. adhd medication sounds like a dream, honestly. you take a pill and suddenly you can function like a normal person and work for hours and even enjoy it. how fucking cool is that.

so ehmm. i don't really have anything to say, just wanted to write. something. don't mind me, really :)

wait, no. i just remembered why i wrote all this. so, I'm kind of addicted to tiktok, which is my greatest curse and i accidentally got into fucking "studytok" and now my fyp is filled with happy american uni students studying for 12 hours straight and talking about obscure studying techniques with weird names and all of that is just. so. from another realm from me, honestly. how do they do that. am i even the same species as them

#im honestly alright tho #please don't worry about me because of this post i promise i have a happy life im just anxious as shit #vent post #my post #adhd #does that sound like adhd for you?..

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black-arcana · 6 months ago

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BATTLE BEAST's NOORA LOUHIMO Shares Message In Support Of Pride Month

BATTLE BEAST's Noora Louhimo has shared a message in support of LGBTQ+ Pride Month. Taking place in June, Pride Month is a time when the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender community, their supporters, and allies come together to celebrate love, diversity, acceptance, and unashamed self-pride.

On Saturday (June 1),Noora took to her Instagram to write: "WONDERFUL PRIDE month for LBTGQ+ communities and everyone who agrees for equal love, self and sexuality. I hope that one day we could live in a world where equality would be the norm in all communities.

"As a woman, I unfortunately still face unequal treatment and a certain kind of sexism seems to be built into people's core behavior (which comes from home education) and some don't even realize they are sexist. Also women towards other women and themselves. For example, it is really sad to see/hear women criticizing other women and their sexual expression or showy appearance/dressing. EVERYONE'S OWN LOOK has been the only way for women to express themselves and their own values since time immemorial. The cloak of shame was not invented by women. But unfortunately, instead of encouraging self-expression, we bark and be mean. What one says about another comes from how you see yourself and your own fear.

"Let's take off those cloaks of shame and burn them at the stake. Let's be on each other's side. Let's be on the side of those who need it. Let's jump into other people's shoes and understand that equal treatment is not an everyday life for everyone, but a struggle for it every day.

"The fact that I dress the way I want, demand respectful and equal treatment, am strong-willed, ambitious and determined, speak up for others and myself does not make me a 'bitch'. Crying, talking about my feelings/thoughts and being emotional to everyone doesn't make me weak. It makes me strong and happy when I am openly myself. At the same time, I want to encourage and support others to do the same.

"THIS IS WHY I HAVE THE BATTLE VITCH HORNS OF COURAGE. And I will always continue to fight for equality. In this world, evil is putting oneself above others, narrow realities and being greedy.

"I hope that I can have at least a little influence on how people treat each other with my own example.

"LOVE AND PEACE AND PRIDE

"#pride #equality #humanity #goodvalues #selfesteem #thecloakofshame #proudtobeme #proudofyou"

Louhimo revealed in November that she had been diagnosed with a ruptured left carotid artery, causing the postponement the band's tour. The 35-year-old Finnish musician has since said in an interview that she has "definitely started doing more warm-up before any singing and warming down and taking care of my overall health even more than before." She added: "I really appreciate life more now. I'm thankful for each and every day and every moment that I get to live, I get to love, I get to see. I get to see people. I get to be with my loved ones and with my animals here at home. And now I get to tour in the places that I've always dreamed of. And it's not something that you should take [for] granted."

When Louhimo first revealed her diagnosis seven months ago, she wrote on her social media: "I went to be examined because of a weird pain in the left side of my neck, throat, ear and chin. At ultrasound examination the doctor found the rupture that had already started healing, and he saved my life. I was hospitalized for more exams and finally got confirmation of the situation. I was ordered to have a break on everything that might stress or increase my blood pressure for the next month. Otherwise, I could have a stroke. As you know how passionate I am as a singer and performer, the blood pressure getting high is a guarantee. So, I did not want to take the risk to die with my boots on, not quite yet".

Louhimo joined BATTLE BEAST in 2012 with no previous experience as a metal vocalist but quickly acclimated herself as the replacement for Nitte Valo (a.k.a. Nitte Vänskä).

Less than two years ago, Noora, who in 2021 released her debut solo album, "Eternal Wheel Of Time And Space", under the NOORA LOUHIMO EXPERIENCE banner, admitted publicly that she had been struggling with eating disorders and her weight since she was "a little child" and said that she was "still trying to find a balance." She added that she had "been depressed and anxious sometimes 'without a reason'."

#noora louhimo #battle beast #pride month

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bioethicists · 2 years ago

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Your blog has gotten me interested in antipsychiatry as an extention of bodily autonomy - however, at least some disorders do seem to be clustered in a way that makes sense for troubleshooting if someone needs treatment. Like, reading the definition of depression as a teenager made me realize that it's not normal to want to die 24/7, and that I should probably talk to a therapist. I don't know exactly where I'm going with this tbh, but I guess I think that some (at least my own) psychiatric disorders make sense and are pretty common ways that people can suffer?

yeah, i think it's pretty important to distinguish between diagnostics as a form of loose categorization (for example, i find ocd + anorexia both to be useful shorthand for experiences i have + share w/ many others) and diagnostics as a prescriptive form of Assigning Illness (such as the DSM). the experiences of ppl with depression are real + often similar to one another + it's extremely useful to have a culturally recognized term that summarizes a lot of painful experiences.

it's when those shorthand descriptions become prescriptive rather than descriptive (e.h you feel x way BECAUSE you have depression, not that you have depression BECAUSE you feel x way), medicalized (e.g this is because you are Sick, this must be Cured, this has a definitive biomedical cause), or alienated (e.g this experience sets you distinctly apart from Normal people, who have Healthy thoughts + brains).

even when you say thinking those things is not 'normal'- sure, most ppl probably don't- but is the concern that it's 'abnormal' or that it's making you miserable? what if everyone else DID feel the same way- would that mean you don't deserve relief from it? one of the biggest flaws in psych diagnostics is that it relies on the assumption that these experiences need to be stopped (and Stopped is usually their ideal goal, though they will settle for mitigated or reduced) not because they are painful but because they are 'abnormal' or 'disruptive' (often to functioning within systems which are inherently unjust like school, work, maintaining housing, etc). the concern is not suffering, but abnormality (with the assumption that there is even such a thing as a Normal Person).

take, for example, my dx of anorexia- when i experience torturous thoughts of hating my body, obsessing over what i eat, obsessing over if other ppl are judging me for what i eat, obsessing over my weight, etc, it is diagnosed as pathology. when a fat person experiences this, they are very, very often validated in these emotions because they are Supposed To feel that way according to fatphobic medicine + cultural norms. while tides are shifting in this regard, this was not just a silly little oversight of the anorexia dx but built in, because the assumption built in to psychiatric diagnostics is that extreme body hatred is only pathological if it's 'irrational'- if you are supposed to hate your body, as determined by norms, then you are 'normal' + there is no 'dysmorphia' present, therefore no care or concern.

in general, i think most systems of categorizing ppl fall apart + become harmful when they fail to recognize themselves as roughly constructed shorthand ways of describing deeply complex experiences- gender, sex, race, diagnosis (this gets foggier in certain medical diagnoses but still stands for the majority of them), identity in general rlly. but if we can see them for what they are- (fallible + limited) things we created to describe ourselves, not objects within us which control our behavior + thoughts, they are immensely useful for many.

#anti psychiatry #fatphobia /

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faaun · 1 month ago

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I'm not sure if you were after advice re adhd and Vyvanse, only read through your recent posts enough to see you are having thoughts about it but I'm not sure your dose and 'type' of adhd (inattentive/impulsive/hyperactive/combined etc) but see you're just over a week using it. I'm on day 21 of Vyvanse and wanted to share my experience if it's in any way helpful because I've been diligently documenting each day. Day one I took 30mg and found the dose was awful -- like I was at a club long after the music had stopped you know, hands clenched, music hurt, awful. I have since been taking half that dose and before a week didn't feel like I was "on" anything, but my mind was quiet and I could focus on my tasks / my moods were regulated - more linear / over the continued use I can tell it's waning earlier, but I do have 5mg Dexy's to supplement when that happens and it's still a process to find the dose balance (I suspect it will change throughout time anyway), I was prescribed those along with the Vyvanse but it's none of my business why you don't have those atm ofc. I've learned about so many things in relation to my mind since getting this diagnosis, I really had no idea I could attribute certain things to it and consequently feel so much less shame than I've had my entire life. You probably know there are other medications and maybe this one wont be for you (and maybe you'll find other strategies too) but I can say I'm glad I took the approach of allowing the process, documenting what I feel in my body each day AND MAKING SURE TO EAT A MEAL WITH THE VYVANSE IMMEDIATELY BEFORE TAKING IT (which no doctor advised me, I had to find out from reddit fml) I also eat really small portions of fruit / tuna during the day, and have heard others say that doing that helps the 'comedown' sensation too. I think I only felt compelled to send you this because I really relate to the 'can i choose not to have adhd' post, but maybe it will help to consider this an experience worth tracking in detail, really giving it a go and not considering each avenue an all or nothing sort of pursuit, like there are options and you should trust your body and discuss with your doctor. Bravo for figuring this out about yourself at 21, I'm 30 and my psych said a lot of people come to her in their 40's! I don't know if any of this helps at all, but I will say, the silence in my mind is a little weird and spooky while also relieving and interesting -- I heard someone basically say that the meds help you focus, but don't help you choose what to focus on, if that makes sense. I think that's where a sort of self-determination / planning comes in and seems significantly easier with the clarity of mind. This is all probably crap, but good luck wah!

hi hi ! this is def helpful thank you! right now i've been taking meals (well...nutritionally complete meal replacement shakes, with vitamins, because food does not register as food to me on vyvanse) just anytime after taking a dosage, so maybe actually having a meal beforehand would help!

also got magnesium + vit b, oredered omega fish oil so maybe that should help too ? i've known i've had adhd since i was maybe 15, it's just been really hard to get medicated and now that i have the medication the fear is that it's worse than being unmedicated (ritalin didnt work) 😭 but currently on a trial phase, as you said i'm documenting everything and just switching out lots of variables. i've learned going to the gym helps me too :)

my problem is that around 3-4 hours a day are essentially hellish. i started off on 50mg bc i usually have a high tolerance to...mostly everything, and quickly learned that it was too high - from 9-2pm amazin, 2-4 meh, 4-7pm horrible no good hell time, 7 onwards very relaxed and gentle. it's the midway stage that really sucks for me. i reduced my dosage to 30g and everything was more mild, but it still was impeding my ability to think between 3-7:30pm ish, which really sucks because that's when most of my seminars are...

my biggest problem for 3-7:30 except inability to process things is emotional bluntness and a complete lack of whimsy. my perceptions seem so indirect. like mild dissociation?

today i'm at 35, i'm seeing how it goes :) tomorrow i'll try the thing w eating before the dose, and also i'll try to implement more fish-related stuff into my diet bc i've also seen ppl say it helps them!

tysm for the ask btw i rly appreciate anyone's advice and just their experiences or feedback or thoughts !!

#i think my body is getting used to it slowly #so im going to give it 2 weeks at least before deciding its not for me #thank u for the tip!#ive been documenting but i should be more diligent w it #...also havent had a meal today so im gonna do that now #asks #lauvra #also tysm i appreciate all the advice/feedback !!

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cy-cyborg · 11 months ago

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So, right before Christmas I got some good news in the NDIS front.

Turns out they DID recognise my non-physical disabilities when this funding plan started, but just...didnt tell me... or anyone else. It still says my only disability is amputation due to meningococcol on everything I have and all the paperwork, but apparently they have my documents saying that i have "very clear but unspecified cognative and developmental difficulties" (my origonal "diagnosis" if you could call it that) so my Local Area Cordinator says they've acknowledged it on their end and agreed to help with it.

Why didn't anyone realise any of this? Since that should mean I have funding to support those disabilities in my plan?

Turns out the answer is just that my plan is REALLY fucking weird. Outside of my LAC, no one ive spoken to has seen anything like it, Something about the way it's structured is really bizarre, which is why my prosthetist, wheelchair maker and other providers had so much trouble getting paid last year: the category they usually take their payment from for 99% of their clients doesn't exist in my plan. I had the funding, but it was somewhere else, and no one told me how to get it because they thought I already knew. None of this was helped that I never got a copy of my plan myself until the advocate pushed for it. Apparently, someone was supposed to tell me all of this and explain it all, but I suspect that didn't happen because this plan started during the later Covid lockdowns, and everything was chaos.

So good news, I have funding to get help with daily tasks and other stuff that im struggling with relating to my non-physical disabilities. A lot actually. Over 2 years worth of funding.

Bad news though, Whatever's left over at the end of this plan period - 4 or 5 months from now - will be used to judge weather I actually need that funding or not. When the plan renews, if it's not all used, they might determine I didn't need it after all, and they are cracking down on this type of funding so they're unlikely to accept "I didn't know I had it".

That's a problem for after new-years though. Right now I'm just happy I don't have to spend several more months jumping through beurocratic hoops for the NDIS just to get some help. Well, any more than I already had to, lol.

Now I can focus on dealing with centrelink next year instead... yay...

ID: a gif of someone running across a field. the caption says: "[screaming]" /end Id

#funny how im the one with the communication disability but this whole problem started because someone didnt communicate with me 🤦#how the fuck did this even happen??#NDIS #disability #disability services #the ndis #ndis

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sophieinwonderland · 11 months ago

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Just found your acc and decided to scroll through r/systemscringe. What’s your take on https://www.reddit.com/r/SystemsCringe/s/cJDvCVKClu ?

Also, in my scrolling, i think i may have come across the only genuinely cringe thing there, which i’ll also link. Make sure to read through it entirely, it gets… weird.

https://www.reddit.com/r/SystemsCringe/s/CkoZgaM8fd

Oh, that one!

I actually came across that and was thinking about responding to it already.

Boy!

That certainly is a take, isn't it!

"Why would people not like to be called liars if they're telling the truth?"

This is one of those questions that I feel could really be answered by just... using that thing between your ears.

I implore the members of r/systemscringe to at least try it. Even just once. They might actually enjoy it.

Look, it's pretty natural for people to not like getting accused of lying. Especially when it's about something personal to them.

This is just normal, basic human behavior. It's not even getting to the fact that many of the people accused are faking are trauma survivors, and often have trauma related to trying to tell people about abuse and not being believed or trusted. And this being triggered can result in them going into fight or flight mode, which in this case, the "fight" response may be defending their reputation and arguing that they're actually telling the truth.

It's also not getting to the fact that DID is often accompanies with denial, derealization, and depersonalization, all thing that might make being fakeclaimed hit especially hard.

Also, the part about "only seeing fakers" defend themselves is pretty silly when you realize that they don't have a way of determining who is or isn't a system.

Oh wow!

Fakers have anxiety? I never realized! It's a good thing that people with genuine disorders that are heavily associated with trauma will never have any anxiety at all. /s

u/Kooky-Copy4456 kind of acknowledges that their own anxiety makes them stressed over people thinking they might be lying below, but still essentially says this should still be a red flag for people with DID for some reason...

And then u/colorfulcrowns tells them that their own defensive reaction to defend their anxiety disorder, stemming from their anxiety disorder, would be a red flag that they don't have an anxiety disorder.

...

I could go on, debunking argument after argument in that thread, but here's the bottom line.

This whole topic is manipulation.

It's to make fakeclaimers feel justified when their victims defend themselves, so that only proves further that the victims must be guilty of faking.

Even if you have paperwork mentioning your diagnosis, that won't be able to prove you're not faking to them. And worse, if you show them that paperwork, this shows you as even more defensive because no one who isn't faking would show you their paperwork. And as far as r/systemscringe is concerned, even being diagnosed doesn't prove you aren't faking.

As this commenter says in another thread:

r/systemscringe wants you to believe that anyone who they say is fake must be faking. If the victims argue, that means they're faking more. If they give proof, they're definitely faking. If they ignore your accusations, well, the silence speaks for itself doesn't it?

They don't believe in someone being innocent until proven guilt. They don't even believe in being guilty until proven innocent. They believe that you're guilty. Period. No exceptions. And any attempt to prove you aren't only proves you really were faking the entire time.

r/systemscringe's ideology hinges on convincing themselves and their members that they're the heroes protecting "real" systems from so-called fakers, and allowing even the slightest possibility that they might be bullying and mocking real systems all along is something they can't bring themselves to consider for a moment.

Posts like this aren't really about proving who is or isn't faking in the end. They're about convincing r/systemscringe bullies that they're the good guys and that any of their victims who fight back deserve to be victimized.

#syscourse #pro endo #pro endogenic #sysblr #system discourse #multiplicity #systemscringe #r/systemscringe #actually a system

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wondercourse · 3 months ago

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Hi. Excuse an anecdote, I just started thinking about something related to my fucking rollercoaster of an experience re: being Wonder. This isn't going to really have a point more than just being me sharing my experiences and thoughts.

Something weird that I'm realizing is that…I think the people I used to spend time with (online, in syscourse spaces) in high school would genuinely hate to see me not only openly questioning the nature of the plurality of a part of my system, but doing so in a way that's not fearful of it possibly not being traumagenic.

I definitely was, at first, because I am always learning. Even going into this account having been pro-"stop dehumanizing people into their stances", I was still learning. I am still learning. I still have a lot to learn. I was a hardcore anti-endo, and in the spaces I was in, your worth was pretty much determined by if you were being a system "right". Even after leaving these spaces, I carried these ideas with me subconsciously.

I kept thinking about how it'd affect how people saw me and the legitimacy of my words. I made a post around when I first made this blog about how identifying this layer as quoigenic—a term that I still vibe with but choose not to use for reasons mentioned later—meant that people were labeling me in their heads, and I claimed that it didn't bother me.

It did. Not as much as it would've when I was in high school (god, I should NOT have been involved in syscourse back then, still being in an actively traumatizing situation was not doing me any favors), but it did.

This isn't to say that I've completely solved the problem. I spent six years in echo chambers, being told that the experience I'm having right now made people inherent enemies to those with CDDs. There are even people who, alarmingly, think that traumagenic systems who are pro-endo (or lean that way) are just claiming such so they can get in with the antis and change their opinions—which, by the way, is a take I saw TODAY. Changing one's stance is already scary enough as is. Finding out that you could also, in part, be the antithesis of something you believed for half a decade? That these parts of you could be tge "enemy" of your own disorder, in that outdated view? Yikes!

However, the discovery of Wonder, the reaction of my treatment team to Wonder, and learning more about the infinite nuance of plurality as it relates to CDDs through this has made me realize that it doesn't matter what people think of me or my situation. Because…it's mine. And it is what it is.

I'm slowly but surely gaining confidence in the worth of my words within syscourse and sysconversation. In the background, there's a little bit of trying to figure out what's going on with us as Wonder, but it's in less of a "HOLY SHIT WHAT IF THIS ISN'T TRAUMAGENIC?!" way and more of a "Well, we're here, and we're gonna be here. So we'll treat ourselves like we're here" way that my therapist has also adopted (I do have a DID diagnosis and I'm in treatment for it). Which has led to me discovering so much nuance to my experience that where I wanted to label it before, I feel like now it might not be able to be labeled at all. And I don't really want to. I'm me! We're me! We're Wonder! And that's pretty cool on its own.

Like I said, this ramble, like…doesn't really have a point. Maybe just to put my experience out there. I guess the three main takeaways are this:

People can and do change, but a part of that is not being bombarded with information and being given the space to form their own opinion and then find people to discuss it with.

Your form of plurality and/or syscourse stance do not define your worth.

Take syscovery of any kind at your own pace. Especially if it's new to you. You don't have to rush to the answers (in fact I've found that both in and outside of the CDD context they come easier if you don't brute force them).

You're you (or perhaps even y'all)! That's pretty cool. I hope you're having a nice day.

Yeah! Rambles over, I'm gonna go make dinner. :3

#unknown shade of color #with special guest #the mediator #shooting star starting signal #sysconversation #i'm in a good mood bc my new pt is nice and i FINALLY started jjk again after shaking the ooze off #AND i watched a couple teen titans eps earlier too #among other reasons to be having a good day lol

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schizodiaries · 1 month ago

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hi, can i ask?

how do i know if im schizophrenic?

it was my first diagnosis, but noone wanted to confirm it, so it was kinda lost to time, eapecially with me generally growing, getting meds and therapy, and learning how to effectively mask with not too much strain on me

but it feels weird that i dont know

i feel like im too mild for schizophrenics, and too schizophrenic for people who arent. i get 'weird' symptoms, but i learned to deal with them myself most of the time

im a good researcher, but im bias, cos i want to explain my rare but distressful symptoms, so i dont rely on that too much, but the docs have been forever disregarding the notion cos i 'seem normal' on the sessions

i follow some blogs here, cos tips are usually useful, but i feel like i dont 'deserve' to call myself schizophrenic

and now im rambling! i even forgot what the initial question was! i guess - how do you know, or do you even have to know for sure, if stuff helps? sometimes when i act too weird i explain it away as me being schizo, but it feels wrong somehow, even if it defuses the situation in my favour

disabilities, man, they do be disabling

Hi there! I think that whether or not you’re schizophrenic should be a decision made between you and your doctor. But if you were diagnosed with it already, regardless of how much time has passed, then I don’t see why you can’t call yourself schizophrenic.

I can relate to a lot of what you’re saying too. I have a pretty mild case of schizoaffective disorder. It was more severe in the beginning, but it’s only gotten better ever since then. You could even say I’m “in remission,” so to speak. In fact, I can pretty much pass as a “normal” person now because my symptoms are so much more under control these days. I bet if I were to talk to a medical professional, and they had no access to my medical records, they wouldn’t even consider me schizoaffective because of how “normal” I come across as.

And because of that, I sometimes get ideas that I’m just “faking” it, or that my disorder isn’t serious enough for me to call myself schizophrenic. Or that I’m just a poser, or some other silly notions like that. But in the end, I am schizophrenic. It’s what my psychiatrist determined after a year of observing me. It’s my diagnosis. It’s on my medical records. I’m receiving therapy for it, I’m taking medication for it. For better or for worse, this is the label that I must live with. No amount of self doubt will change that.

And now look who’s rambling lol. I guess to answer your question, like I said it’s best to have a serious conversation about it with your doctor, if you want to be sure, and if you think you need a diagnosis. But if I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about whether or not you have schizophrenia. It’s a lot more important that you are aware of your symptoms, especially ones like voices or psychosis, and are able to deal with them in a healthy way. When it comes to mental disabilities I care less about diagnoses/labels and more about people empowering themselves to live their best lives. It’s hard being mentally disabled. The disabilities do in fact be disabling. So let’s try to make things easier for ourselves.

Hope i managed to answer your question in the midst of my rambling!

#inbox #schizophrenia #schizoaffective disorder

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malsfefanfics · 4 months ago

Text

Paralogue: A Venomous Verismo

[Only Available in Chapter 10 of White Clouds]

Required Units - Byleth, Dorothea, Ferdinand, Hubert or Rosamund (Choice Determines Reward)

Summary: Tancred's fallen ill, and the symptoms remind a certain star of something rather haunting. Not wanting to be a burden, the little one sets out to find the cure himself. Now he's in need of rescue, before it's too late.

Content Warnings: Discussions of child abuse, poisoning, attempted murder, illness, hostile working conditions, Canon-Typical "Mittlefrank Sucks" discussions.

Important Note: Unless stated otherwise, Tancred's dialogue is communicated through sign language.

Written in script format under the cut.

Dorothea: Well, sky watch certainly didn't end badly. I suppose you aren't that bad a work partner.

Ferdinand: I will consider that a compliment.

Dorothea: Well, don't get used to it, Ferdie. I won't give you any more.

Ferdinand: I do not need constant vali- Hold on. Look.

Tancred: [STUMBLING AS HE'S TRYING TO GET TO THE DINING HALL, LOOKING DEATHLY PALE AND SHIVERING]

Ferdinand: [HURRYING OVER TO HIM, KNEELS BESIDE HIM] Tancred? Is everything alright, treasure?

Dorothea: [KNEELS DOWN TO CHECK HIM FOR FEVER] He's ice cold.

Tancred: [TRIES TO SIGN, COUGHING BADLY]

Dorothea: Wait…these symptoms…

Ferdinand: [SCOOPS TANCRED INTO HIS ARMS] Let's get him to Manuela.

Dorothea: And we need to find Hubie.

[A FEW DAYS LATER]

Byleth: [SEES HUBERT, FERDINAND, DOROTHEA, AND ROSAMUND TALKING] Hey. Is everything alright?

Ferdinand: Ah, Professor. We were just discussing Tancred's condition.

[OPTION 1]

Byleth: How is he doing?

Rosamund: His condition is mostly stable, at least. He's been sleeping a lot.

Ferdinand: Understandable. His body was under a lot of stress. He needs to rest as much as possible to regain his strength.

Rosamund: I've never seen him like this before, though…

[OPTION 2]

Byleth: What's the diagnosis?

Rosamund: To be honest? Pretty grim. I still can't believe it.

Ferdinand: It is not what we expected, that's for sure.

Dorothea: Well, most of us didn't expect it.

Byleth: What do you mean?

Hubert: Well…

Manuela: [RUNNING OVER TO THEM] Has anyone seen Tancred?!

Hubert: What? He was supposed to be in the infirmary with you!

Manuela: I left for just a moment to get some tea and honey from the kitchens for him. When I got back, he was gone. I've been running everywhere looking for him. He's not anywhere on the grounds.

Rosamund: You don't think father-

Hubert: Not possible. That man wouldn't be foolish enough to try to take Tancred so brazenly.

Rosamund: For the love of Cichol, Hubert, did you forget what that traitor-

Ferdinand: [STEPS BETWEEN THEM] Perhaps he left of his own volition? Tancred is constantly trying to act independent. He might have gone somewhere.

Byleth: But where would he go?

Dorothea: I think I might know. There was a church convoy heading to a particular village West from here. It left this morning. He might have gone with them.

Hubert: I would be concerned how you would know this, but that is a matter for later. Professor, let's head out.

Ferdinand: We will be going with you.

Hubert: You do not need to-

Dorothea: Hubie, we're going. That's final.

Rosamund: I'll get ready.

Hubert: You are staying here. One of us should remain with at the school in case Tancred turns up.

Rosamund: But my hounds could locate him in a matter of minutes. I should be the one to go.

Hubert: If your hounds are as skilled as you claim, I can bring some with me, and you keep the rest with you and double check the monastery grounds.

Rosamund: No way! Most of my dogs don't even like you! Professor, tell Hubert I should be the one to go.

Hubert: Professor, tell Rosamund she's needed here.

[OPTION 1]

Byleth: Rosamund should stay here just in case.

Rosamund: What the hell?! Professor-

Ferdinand: I can handle care for some of your hounds, Rosamund. You have my word, not a hair on their heads will be harmed. And we will bring Tancred home safe and sound.

Rosamund: …okay. Fine. Rigel, go with Ferdinand. Find Tancred.

Rigel: Bark, bark!

[OPTION 2]

Byleth: Hubert, you will remain here at the monastery.

Hubert: But, Professor-

Rosamund: I promise, brother. I'll bring Tancred home. Please, believe in me.

Hubert: Hmph. Very well. But take a few of our Medical Engineers with you. Ferdinand, you'll be in charge of them.

Ferdinand: You can count on me, Hubert. I will bring your siblings home safely.

Dorothea: Let's hurry and get going. If he's headed where I think he is, and for the reason I'm thinking, then Tancred's going to need all the help he can get.

Byleth: Let's go.

[ON THE BATTLEFIELD]

Civilians: Help! Someone! Anyone!

Demonic Beasts: [ATTACKING THE VILLAGE]

Ferdinand: What on earth is going on here?!

Byleth: Over there!

Tancred: [RUNNING FROM A MAGE]

Ferdinand: Wait. Is that not one of Hubert's-

Dorothea: We can ask questions later. We have to help him and the villagers!

[BATTLE REQUIREMENTS]

Victory Conditions: Rout the Enemy before Tancred's HP reaches 0 Enemies: 2 Demonic Beasts, 5 Enemy Mages, 1 Mage Commander, 5 Assassins, 1 Assassin Commander Defeat Conditions: Byleth, Ferdinand, Dorothea, or a Vestra falls in Battle.

[BATTLE START]

Dorothea: We need to hurry and grab Tancred before he can get hurt.

Ferdinand: We also need to try to deal with these Beasts before they harm any more innocent people.

[REWARD BONUS]

Complete the map with no casualties for additional rewards.

Dorothea: Hold on, little treasure! We're on our way.

[UNIQUE DIALOGUE - MAGE COMMANDER]

If Ferdinand is sent to attack:

Ferdinand: I do not know what reason you have for attacking an innocent child, but I will not stand for it! Mage Commander: Aegir's boy, huh? Your sense of justice precedes you. Ferdinand: So you know my father, then. It is a pity your crimes will prevent you from seeing him again. You tried to kill an innocent little boy. That is unforgiveable. Now, face your judgment!

If Dorothea is sent to attack:

Dorothea: How dare you try to hurt Tancred! What did he ever do to you? He's just a little kid! Mage Commander: This matter does not concern you. Walk away, child. Dorothea: No. No, I will not walk away! If you want me to not be involved, you'll need to kill me. Mage Commander: As you wish. A shame, really, to see a promising flame be snuffed out. But we do what must be done. Dorothea: That's why I'm here. To do what I need to do to keep our treasure's flame alight.

If Hubert is sent to attack:

Hubert: I never thought the old man would be as brazen as to send an assassin after Tancred while he's living at Garreg Mach. Alas, a massive oversight on my part. I will not be making that mistake again. Mage Commander: Well, what do you expect with an explosive child like that? His powers are unstable, young master. He's a security risk that needs to be dealt with swiftly. Hubert: Security risk? Him?! He's only seven years old, you- ngh.….forget it. You are beyond redemption. As is that traitorous bastard. May you both burn in hell together.

If Rosamund is sent to attack:

Rosamund: Hey wait. I… I remember you! You're that jerk of a magic instructor father hired for me. Mage Commander: Ah, the defect. You still exist? Shocking. Perhaps I should ask Lord Iason what to do about you after I finish this task. Rosamund: Oh, I am going to enjoy having you ripped limb from limb from limb, you rotten bastard.

If Byleth or another student is sent to attack:

Mage Commander: You will not get between me and my duty. That child must die!

[UNIQUE DIALOGUE - ASSASSIN COMMANDER]

If Ferdinand is sent to attack:

Ferdinand: An assassin? Who sent you?! Was it an enemy lord? Perhaps someone beyond our borders? Or maybe… Assassin Commander: You do not have the authority to question me. I always make it a point to complete my contracts, no matter what. You will not get in my way. Ferdinand: Far too late for that. You will face punishment for attacking innocents. Now, en garde!

If Dorothea is sent to attack:

Dorothea: Even an assassin. Yep. Definitely a major case of déjà vu. Assassin Commander: The Mythical Songstress? Well, aren't I just lucky. Pity I will have to kill you, but collateral damage is to be expected. Dorothea: Oh, trust me. The curtain isn't closing on me today. You're dead.

If Hubert is sent to attack:

Hubert: So, the old man is letting his true colors show at last. I need not hold back. Assassin Commander: If you know what's good for you, Lord Hubert, you'd leave us to our duty. Hubert: If you knew what was good for you, you'd know that accepting my father's orders means your death. Assassin Commander: Come at me then! Hubert: Gladly.

If Rosamund is sent to attack:

Rosamund: I knew father hated us, but I didn't think he'd go that far. Assassin Commander: Pity you decided to come out today. I guess I'll need to take you out as well. Perhaps I'll receive a bonus for cutting you down. Rosamund: I'm not worth the coin in father's eyes. But your weapons will buy Tancred a lot of dessert.

If Byleth or another student is sent to attack:

Assassin Commander: I've been in his service for decades. Haven't failed a single job. You will not keep me from completing this one.

[UPON DEFEATING THE FINAL ENEMY]

Ferdinand: It looks like we have cleared out the enemy forces. We will need to check the perimeter to make sure, but it should be safe now.

Dorothea: Hey there, treasure. Come to Thea. Let's get you home, okay? No one is going to hurt you anymore.

[STAGE COMPLETE]

You successfully completed the Paralogue and earned a Battalion.

If you chose Hubert: Vestra Medical Corp. has been added to your barracks. If you chose Rosamund: Vestra Hound Masters has been added to your barracks.

[BACK AT THE MONASTERY]

Manuela: Thank goodness. You certainly gave us a fright, little one. Please don't scare us like that again.

Tancred: I'm really sorry everyone.

Ferdinand: Do not fret, treasure. What matters is that you are home safe and sound now.

Manuela: Here. Take this. It'll help you feel better.

Tancred: [NODS] Thank you.

Rosamund: What is that? I don't recognize that medicine.

Dorothea: It's….an antitoxin. For bellacanto.

Rosamund: Bellacanto?

[OPTION 1]

Byleth: What's bellacanto?

Dorothea: It's a plant somewhat similar to that of belladonna, or deadly nightshade. But it's a rather rare strain from Albinea, and the treatment is only available in one place in Fódlan. That village. Not many people know it even exists.

[OPTION 2]

Byleth: Why would Tancred need an antitoxin?

Dorothea: As hard as it is to believe, I think Tancred has been exposed to a poison. One that causes a lot of pain for most grown adults. If they don't die from it, at least. That village makes the only cure. You won't find any books about it through most of Fódlan.

Dorothea: The cure is made with the venom of a particular snake that is resistant to the toxin in the plant. It can safely eat creatures that die from consuming the berries, and its venom is believed to be of a similar color to the flowers of bellacanto.

Rosamund: How do you know so much about this, Thea? You into poisons or something?

Dorothea: Heavens no. It's because it's frequently used by performers in the opera. You see, it's a cutthroat business. The best of the best have to do some…unsavory things to get where they are.

Manuela: She's right. Bellacanto is actually the reason one of my seniors was forced into early retirement. It causes havoc on your vocal chords in repeated exposure to small doses.

Rosamund: Wait, seriously?

Ferdinand: But…how could Tancred have been exposed to it? And how has it not killed him? I mean no offence but…look at him.

Tancred: [YAWNING, GROWING DROWSY]

Dorothea: I'm not sure how he was exposed. But a lot of his symptoms line up. If the antitoxin clears up his current bought by morning, we'll know for sure.

Ferdinand: Hopefully it works. [LOOKS TO HUBERT] Now, care to explain why an assassin was sent after your little brother?

Hubert: [SIGHS] It is a long story. But I will keep it brief. To put it simply-

Rosamund: Father has a favorite child and has finally decided he wanted him to be an only child.

Hubert: Rosamund!

Rosamund: What?! You know how father feels about Tancred, and it's only a matter of time until he sends someone to take me out. I wouldn't be surprised if he's been trying to poison us since we were in the cradle.

Hubert: …..

Dorothea: ….Hubie?

Ferdinand: Wait…don't tell me you believe your father-

Hubert: If you will excuse me, there is an important matter I must attend to. [HURRIES OUT]

Rosamund: Hubert, come back here! [GROANS] That pompous little-

Tancred: [TRYING NOT TO CRY] I'm sorry. I just didn't want to be a burden. I thought if I could get the medicine myself, I could make you all worry less. Instead, I just caused trouble. I'm really sorry.

Ferdinand: It is not your fault, treasure. And you are never a burden.

Dorothea: Here. [SITS ON THE BED, PULLS HIM INTO HER LAP AND STARTS HUMMING TO HIM]

Tancred: Hubert's angry at me, isn't he?

[OPTION 1]

Byleth: He's not angry at you, Tancred.

Dorothea: The Professor's right, treasure. Hubie's not angry at you. He's just really worried about you, that's all.

Tancred: How do you know?

[OPTION 2]

Byleth: If he is, then he's an idiot.

Ferdinand: I would agree. He would be an idiot if he were to be angry at you, Tancred. But I do not think he could bring himself to be. If anything, he seems angry at himself.

Tancred: Why would he be angry at himself?

Rosamund: Tancred, our big brother loves you as much as he does Lady Edelgard. He could never be angry at you. He'd do anything to protect you.

Ferdinand: Most likely, he is angry at the person who hurt you.

Tancred: You mean….

Byleth: ….Tancred? Has this happened before?

Tancred: ….I'm sleepy. [CLOSES HIS EYES, SNUGGLING CLOSER TO DOROTHEA]

Ferdinand: ….I will go find Hubert. Try to speak to him about this. Please, excuse me. [LEAVES]

Rosamund: ….damn. Never seen such a scary face on Ferdinand of all people.

Manuela: Well. Certainly feels like change is in the air. I'll keep an eye on the lad.

Dorothea: Me too.

Rosamund: I'll stay till he's fully asleep. Then I'll head into the woods and gather more herbs. [LOOKS AT BYLETH] Thank you again, Professor. My brother would have been dead without you and your students. I'm very grateful.

Byleth: [NODS, GIVES TANCRED ONE LAST GLANCE BEFORE LEAVING]

[REWARD DESCRIPTIONS]

Vestra Medical Corp.: A Resonant White Magic Battalion specially trained by Medee von Vestra. Requires Authority Level B to use. Has special perk of 5% chance to drop Healing Items when used.

Vestra Hound Masters: A Disturbance Battalion of hunters and hounds specially trained by Rosamund von Vestra. Requires Authority Level B to use. Has special perk of 5% chance to steal enemy target's weapon upon use.

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe3h oc #fire emblem oc #hubert von vestra #dorothea arnault #ferdinand von aegir #byleth eisner #manuela casagranda #tancred von vestra #rosamund von vestra

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hazel2468 · 2 years ago

Text

Ok I gotta bitch about something real quick here.

So, good news first- got a diagnosis. PCOS. I had a feeling (and several of my friend are now correct), but it's good to have a solid "Yeah, this is what's going on here".

But anyway. Kvetch time.

So, my endo is pretty great. She offered to hook me up with their gender specialist, so I might be getting the ball rolling on that soon, which is exciting and terrifying. But we had a call and went over everything. More good news- my levels look great. Everything is normal and my thyroid levels are, quote, "beautiful". But we started talking about PCOS, talked a little bit about HRT. And then she brought up diet stuff, which I imagine is standard.

But what annoyed me was that she was talking about how to adjust what I eat because of "health risks". And so I asked her to clarify for me- is there anything in my labs of concern? And she said no- everything looks fine and dandy. I asked if there is any indication that I should be making any kind of serious changes based on my labs. Again, no. Everything looks good.

So... The only "issue" there is my weight.

My levels are good. I've been in a bit of an experimental "what can I eat that won't upset the void where my gallbladder used to be?" phase, but overall I've been eating the same as I have for years. I did tell her I wanted to work out more and, now that I'm fucking finally fixing my sleep schedule I might actually be able to make time to lift in the mornings.

But what annoyed me was that all of that stuff- good stuff- eating in a way that doesn't upset my intestines, working out more because fuck it I wanna be a strong theydy, the fact that my labs are not only normal but look great... All of it just falls before the fact that I am fat. All of it.

And to be clear, I'm not pissed at my doctor, specifically. I'm pissed because all of it seems so standard. It's the "this is the PCOS spiel" kind of thing- the general stuff that you say. And the annoying thing is that, apparently (and I was already well aware of this but it always sucks to be reminded), it doesn't actually matter what my habits are, what I eat, if I work out or not, how my labs look, at least in the eyes of the general medical standards.

No, what matters is that I am fat, and therefore I am unhealthy and need to change everything- even though literally everything else speaks to the contrary.

And what's even MORE annoying is that... I have PCOS. I have hypothyroid. Those are BOTH conditions that cause weight gain. Those are both conditions that make losing weight even harder than it already fucking is for most people.

So the fact that the medical standards for diagnosing someone with PCOS involve looking at their BMI and determining that they need to change their whole lifestyle solely based on how they look- not on their actual habits, not on their ACTUAL LAB RESULTS, but their weight?

IDK that just annoys me. It pisses me off. It put a damper on the whole "You have an answer finally AND also you're doing really well health wise.... OH but you're fat and so we need to lecture you about your diet and exercise and imply that the reason you should do those things is to lose weight."

#fatphobia #medical fatphhobia #like if anything #if working out goes the way I want it to #i'll probably fucking GAIN weight #because I want my muscles back #like I wish every doctor could be like my gastro #because that man managed to talk to me about diet and exercise #and NOT ONCE #not ONE SINGLE TIME #make it about weight loss #it was 100% all about what would make me feel good #what would be good for my gallbladder/ lack of a gallbladder #what would be easy on my intestines #everything was about making me more comfortable #and keeping me feeling good #NONE of it was about oh this will help you be less fat #and I wish more docs would be like that #and like ok not to ramble in the tags but like #i would 100% understand if my doc was like hey #your cholesterol is high or something #we need to adjust here #but my labs were like #basically perfect #everything within normal ranges #thyroid SMACK in the middle oh it was so nice to see #there was nothing in my labs AT ALL #that indicated anything was wrong #and yet somehow #clearly

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transmutationisms · 1 year ago

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feel free not to answer this question, no worries if you can’t. but i thought id ask you because you have much more radical frameworks than reddit lol, i’m planning on seeking help with an ed that i have been and currently am engaging with, i’m actively engaging in unhealthy behaviors and i have no plans to stop honestly i just want to talk to someone as a step to getting closer to some form of recovery. how much can i honestly tell a licensed therapist (with ed experience) without being referred to an ed specialist or being institutionalized/put in different therapy/outpatient against my will? or basically how can i avoid anything happening besides like regular therapy sessions.. i don’t think i’m currently in any physical danger and i’m an adult, but i’m petrified of my parents (insurance providers) finding out about this and to have to go into like a specialized program would be awful for me. do you have any resources/advice/etc?

2 things:

1. you need to first determine what the laws are where you live. in some places it is possible to forcibly institutionalise an adult, sometimes with familial support and sometimes by clinician recommendation alone. you also want to check things like whether they can request a police 'wellness check' or whether they can put you on any type of temporary hold. any language in such laws about posing a danger to yourself basically means it's up to clinician judgment to decide what constitutes an actionable threat, so if you seek therapy in a jurisdiction with such laws, be careful and ask upfront in your very first session what the person's attitude is toward the use of such legal mechanisms. many clinicians still adhere to the guidance that harm reduction / non-recovery approaches to ED are only morally permissible in cases where a patient is over 30, has had AN for over a decade, and is medically stable. you may notice the first two criteria exclude many ED patients and the third involves clinician judgments. again you will want to ask upfront in your first session what any potential therapist thinks of treating an ED patient who is not prepared to seek full recovery right now. if a therapist is hesitant or weirded out by this, my advice is to dip.

2. regarding insurance and parents, this varies but where i live therapists have discretion when it comes to what they write on billing documents. for example it is fairly common practice to bill all insurance for "adjustment disorder" and then simply leave particularities between clinician and patient. what diagnosis your insurance company has on file simply depends on what your therapist writes down, so again, this would be something to ask about in your first session, keeping in mind this sort of paper protection only works so long as your therapist actually adheres to it. the other big caveat here is that your therapist's detailed notes on you are not legally protected in all cases. if things were to get legally ugly, for example if your parents found out about your ED and wanted to take medical charge of you in some way requiring court involvement, therapist notes absolutely could be discoverable and handed over. obviously i don't mean to scare you but you should be apprised of the situation.

again, check the laws in your jurisdiction, know what you're walking into, and keep in mind not all behaviours are equally likely to land you in hot water with a clinician (eg, many will respond more fearfully and forcefully to self-induced vomiting or laxative use, due to potential electrolyte issues, than they will to general self-starvation). best of luck to you <3

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goodstimoftheday · 1 year ago

Text

Please only read if you feel in a safe place to do so

Under the cut discusses suicidal thoughts, food restriction and abuse

Summary is: I hope I can come back to posting one day, but I'll have to be in a much different place and it will take a lot to get to that other place

I've always been what someone would call a melancholy person, it's a well told tale in my family that at the age of six I was in the room when a news report about depression came on and I asked my parents if I had that. It is also a well told tale that I'd first said I wanted to die at age four. An event that apparently put my mum on antidepressants from the shock and sorrow that her young child would say that but I didn't get help until I was seven. I was informally diagnosed as on the autistic spectrum at nine and formally diagnosed at 10 with mild autism after I failed the IQ test that determined whether you had asperger's as this was before it was a defunct diagnosis. I still remember the disappointment that hung in the air in the psychologists room. I was clever, but not clever enough. They then said I was too young to diagnose as depressed, and with time and The Book I would adapt to the world and no longer be depressed by it. And with that diagnosis and The Book, me and my parents were cut adrift to 'deal' with my mind.

The Book was a horrible thing that explained how to cope with autistic traits and train them out of your child. It wouldn't be until I was 19 that I found and read The Book for myself and recognised all the ways my parents had hurt me had come from this very book.

I never did get less depressed and I still never got diagnosed, therapists telling me everyone has depressive symptoms these days.

My mum has never had a good body image, in truth she should have probably been diagnosed with dysmorphia long ago but she refuses to go to the doctors about it, instead wallowing in the cruel world of diets that insist she just has no willpower. But somewhere in her mind she is angry and used that anger like a knife to carve me into her idea of perfection. I remember well at age five finding a key ring from weightwatchers that was fun to play with and she told me one day I'd have to go there because I had her genes. But as my autistic tongue refused more foods and I became old enough to fight back from being pinned down to my chair and force fed, and instead left hungry, because that way I would learn to be grateful for my food, it was clear I was very thin. And my mum loved this. She dressed me in all the clothes she wished she could have worn as a child and told me as my sensory issues begged her not to put the itchy sparkly tights on me again and my dim first pangs of gender dysphoria screamed as she said to do things ladylike.

Unlike some, when I reach the crushing depths of depression, I find no comfort in food. My mouth goes dry and so all I eat feels like sand and sawdust and tastes much the same. My mum loved this, though she would never admit to it consciously. As I got older and bought my own food at school or on days out, my body would plump up and I seemed to be less interesting to my mum but then the depression depths would pull me down again and I would shed weight and all of a sudden I would be beautiful, clever and deserving of presents at random because I 'was special'.

At eighteen I met someone who would become my partner for three and a half years. Some of you from my old blog would remember them. I loved them and parts of me, much to my shame, still do.

I most likely have OSDD. But for whatever reason the NHS doesn't like to diagnose this. In the course of my therapy I have taken the dissociative quotient about three times with very consistent scores that lay between that of C-PTSD and DID. So rather than diagnosing me with the disorder that sits between those two disorders, OSDD, I've been diagnosed with C-PTSD with extreme depersonalisation.

The first person to recognise this with in me was my first ever partner and whether consciously or unconsciously, they used my dissociative symptoms against me. It's hard to type but I was abused by them. I loved them, still love them sometimes, so much. I would have given them the world but they hurt me and then threw me away like I was nothing when they found someone younger and in the same country. I won't say what they did to me, only my closest friends and my therapist know, and I wish to keep it that way. It was a quiet abuse and with my dissociation that I couldn't recognise, I couldn't see the hurt until around six months after they left me.

So in the time my dissociation painted the world as bright and sunny, the parts experiencing the abuse locked away from my knowledge, I gained a lot of weight. I was an adult now, free to choose my own meals. I actually love being fat, I felt warm and happy and my body was so lovely to stim with. That's something that makes my heart sing about Aziraphale, from Good Omens, he enjoys food and I can really empathise with feeling like he's doing something wrong when people point out his enjoyment.

But my mum didn't like that, not one bit. I became the family disappointment. 'Weight problems' were discussed like a family curse. And I was uplifted as the exception, like I was there to break that curse. But my body after years of being under fed clung to the happiness of eating food I liked and showed it in my body.

After my partner left me I fell into a deep deep depression. They had hurt me in a way and used my brain in such a way that I felt like air had been taken from me. I felt like was going to die. I wanted to die. They told me I would die without them. I lost a lot of weight very very quickly and my mum was so happy, she could barely disguise it as she attempted to comfort me about the hurt my ex had done to me as I slowly realised it.

She finally bought me a new binder after using the same one for over a year, new trousers and other things. I was interesting again.

I got with another person, far too soon. He was sweet but also out of his depth with the trauma I was only just realising I had. I broke up with him after seven months, something he didn't understand at all and I felt so guilty, I felt like my abuser. But unlike my abuser I tried to remain friends, I knew how strong love could be and tearing it up was too much I knew. But in those seven months, I regained a little weight. My parents, both of them now, didn't like this.

So began now, the months of teetering on the edge of starvation. Some days I have only a snack to get me by, other's I'm allowed two hot meals. Without a job and disability benefit since 19, I have had to just resort to here. But this weird food restriction that is there some days and then gone the next has really taken a toll on my mind. I've been in this position since September 2021. Two years now of this. My dissociation is worse, my depression is worse. I don't feel real most days. And still I have flashbacks to my ex and early childhood on top of this. I don't know what to do.

That person around April and May I was talking about? I wanted to be boyfriends with him so badly but my parents made me stop dating him as I'd already put on five pounds. He was so sweet and I had to lie to him and say I didn't see the relationship going anywhere as my mum stood over me to text him. I'm fucking 25 and I can't date a guy because he keeps me happy and plump. My mum hates fat so much that I can't even explore a relationship with a guy beyond a couple of months anymore because it makes me too happy for her liking. Because with my body happiness is being fat.

I'm saying all this because I don't know how to carry on here on this blog. I try so hard to see the good in every day but I'm living with those scary deep sea creatures at the moment. I feel like very soon I'll have forgotten what the light looks like.

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #abuse tw

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sleptwithinthesun · 1 year ago

Text

here is another installation in the t/ourette's au!! there is snz this time, and 5K words of it (+ a fuckton of plot. help) :D i hope you enjoy!

cw: neither f/oreman nor h/ouse are exactly kind to c/hase in this. there's nothing explicitly against him, but some of their choices and thoughts shouldn't be repeated. also, i know nothing about the medical stuff. forgive me for any inaccuracies

"And where have you been?"

Foreman glances up from the medical journal he's been occupying himself with to watch Chase walk in, already wearing his lab coat, which is strange enough on its own for a three-in-the-morning page from House. Even stranger is the fact that he's later to arrive than House in the first place, who is proudly notorious for almost never being on time to work.

"Surgery," he replies, practically collapsing into his seat and accepting the file Cameron holds out to him. He smiles tiredly at her, even as his shoulders jerk upward and his eyes squeeze shut.

House ignores the tic, spinning in his chair to face the whiteboard, marker poised to write. "Symptoms include nausea, vomiting, jaundice, and fatigue. Patient came in because of the jaundice. Thoughts?"

"Jaundice indicates that the liver's failing," Cameron points out.

"Duh," House says. "Patient's a light drinker, she's in college, but nowhere near an alcoholic. Check the liver for cirrhosis, and we'll go from there." He flaps a dismissive hand at them, already forcing himself up on his cane and limping toward the door to his office.

Foreman doesn't even bother waiting for him to leave, just rises from his chair and follows Cameron and Chase down to the patient's room. About halfway down the hallway, Foreman breaks the silence to ask, "Think she's going to have cirrhosis?"

"If her liver's failing? Yes." Cameron speaks with conviction.

"Not necessarily," Chase interjects, neck twisting sharply to the side and forcing him to grab onto Cameron's shoulder for a second to keep his balance. He pauses to reorient himself, blinking sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Not your fault. You okay?" she asks. He nods, hand dropping back to his side, and sighs quietly.

It takes a moment, but he eventually speaks again. Foreman's noticed that about him; whenever Chase has a particularly bad tic, usually resulting in him drawing attention to himself, he tends to lapse into silence for the following handful of minutes. Cameron once explained to him that, according to Wilson, he's been doing it since even before she joined the diagnostic team, and it's a habit neither they nor Wilson see him breaking anytime soon.

"Could be hepatitis," he says quietly, voice a bit strained. "Although, type A wouldn't result in cirrhosis of the liver."

Cameron nods in acknowledgement, then pushes the 'down' button for the elevator. It's not even three-thirty in the morning, and in pure spite of the fact that Foreman's been working as a doctor for the past six years, the one thing he'll never get used to is the complete lack of a sleep schedule. He stifles a tired yawn behind his palm, then runs a hand down his face to try and wake himself up.

It doesn't work. He slumps against the side of the elevator once they're all inside, closing his eyes for a moment. He opens them again to find Cameron glancing at him sympathetically, lips curved with an odd little half-smile. "Any chance it's an easy diagnosis?"

"Knowing House? Never." Foreman rolls his eyes playfully at her.

"I don't know why House didn't just have us get a liver biopsy," Cameron continues as the elevator doors slide open again. "I mean, that's the easiest way to determine cirrhosis."

"And it's also unnecessary if we can get a CBC and run a panel for liver enzymes." Chase follows closely behind Cameron as they exit. She's the only one who actually knows where they're going; Foreman only remembers the floor number, and Chase barely got to look over the file before they were leaving the conference room.

Foreman glances back at him. "We should probably get an image, too. MRI or CT scan?"

"MRI," Chase says. "Better contrast resolution."

Cameron nods her agreement, then pauses outside a room, seeming to check the number. A moment later, she's pushing open the sliding glass door and smiling softly at their patient.

"Ms. Davis?" she asks, breaking the stillness of the room.

The girl in the bed laughs. "I'm nineteen; my mom is Ms. Davis." Foreman takes note of the honorific, storing the information away to share with House later. "Please, call me Audrey."

"Audrey," Cameron corrects, walking over to her bedside. "I know that it's late, and that you've had a rough couple of hours, but we need to run a couple of tests."

"We can expedite them," Chase offers, and Audrey's face crinkles with confusion, likely at Chase's accent. Either that, or the subtle tic presenting in the muscles of his face, which Foreman's pretty sure Chase doesn't even realize he's doing. "It's late. We haven't been slammed with an emergency, and most of the equipment is open."

Slowly, Audrey nods. "Where're you from?" she asks.

Chase blinks, startled. "Uh, Oz— Australia."

"Cool," Audrey says enthusiastically, her brow smoothing out a bit. She attempts to sit up straighter in her bed, smoothing a few strands of hair away from her face. "You haven't been over here very long, have you?"

She's flirting with him. Foreman rolls his eyes at Cameron, who just sighs and leaves the room to get the consent forms. Audrey's gaze trails after her as she leaves, and then, she states, just as plainly as if she were talking about the weather, "You're not dating."

Chase splutters. Foreman laughs. It's always teenage girls; something about Chase's accent, floppy hair, and general demeanor just draws them in, like a moth to a flame.

"No," Foreman says, chuckling. "They're not dating. Let's get you prepped for these tests. Dr. Cameron's getting the consent forms now, you just have to sign them." He starts checking her IVs; IVIg, saline, metoclopramide. The stand's going to have to travel with her.

Audrey flops back into her bed. "What're you going to do to me?"

"Nothing major. Take some blood and run an MRI scan," Chase says, having finally regained his voice. His cheeks are still tinged pink, and Foreman holds back a smile at the sight.

"It'll be quick," he promises, moving to the drawers and pulling out a needle and the necessary vials. "In fact, we can do the blood draw right here, once Dr. Cameron returns with the paperwork."

"You rang?" Cameron says, a clipboard and pen in hand. She passes them both off to Audrey, pointing out where to sign.

Audrey hands the paperwork back to Cameron a minute later, who then leaves the room with Chase to schedule the MRI. She holds out her left arm. "How much do you need?"

"Three vials," Foreman says, grabbing a rolling stool and bringing it over to her bedside. Placing said vials in his pocket, he sets the needle down on the tray next to the bed and starts feeling the crook of Audrey's arm for prominent veins. Nothing.

The tourniquet goes around her bicep, the needle into her arm only a minute later. Unlike most of their patients, Audrey chooses to watch as her blood fills the vials with an odd sense of fascination.

"You interested in biology?" Foreman asks.

"No way." Audrey grins at his expression, teeth flashing in the awful blue tinge of hospital lighting. "I took the pre-req. Reminded me of how much I hate it."

Foreman pulls the needle out after filling the last vial, then presses a small gauze pad to the inside of her elbow before taping it to her skin. "Dr. Cameron will be back to get you for the MRI shortly," he says, then leaves the room.

Chase is humming under his breath when Cameron slots the images from the MRI up onto the lightboard for House to see. "No cirrhosis," she sighs.

"Doesn't mean anything," House says, pacing across the room.

"Her liver is failing, and no cirrhosis doesn't mean anything?"

House pauses. Instead of answering Cameron's question, he glares right past Foreman at Chase and snaps, "Can you stop?"

Immediately, Chase quiets. His lips press together, and the already barely-audible humming ceases entirely. House nods, and the discussion flips back over to the patient. Still, glancing back at Chase, Foreman can see the vague flicker of his vocal cords. Despite the attempt at subtlety, it's clear he's struggling to suppress the tic.

"—testing her," House is saying when he brings his attention back to the more-important discussion at hand. "Liver enzyme panel will be back when dawn breaks. While you're waiting for that, you three can go on a little field trip. Go break into her dorm."

Chase nods and leaves the room without a word. Cameron's gaze trails after him before she follows, and House raises an eyebrow. "What's up with him?" he asks.

Foreman sighs. He wasn't sure about Chase from the moment House informed him that his new coworker had Tourette's, and weeks later, he still can't tell if the younger doctor should even have been allowed to become an intensivist in the first place. Constant, high-pressure situations cannot be good for someone prone to anxiety, especially when that anxiety can manifest in them killing someone because said person was too busy jerking their head around.

He's a neurologist. Despite what Chase thinks, Foreman is far from ignorant about what his condition entails, and he knows that what Chase is letting House do to him every meeting is going to screw them over in the future.

After sending a passing glance toward House, Foreman follows Chase and Cameron out of the room. "You want to drive?" he asks Cameron, who shrugs, keeping pace with him.

"I don't mind," she says, "if I can stop for gas on the way back."

Foreman nods, and switches topics back to the case. They've both learned better than to let Chase drive, after the first and decidedly final time. "There's not much privacy in a dorm room," he comments. "We're probably better off questioning her roommate and RA."

Chase, lagging a few feet behind them, asks, "Do we have a copy of her schedule? It might help us narrow our search."

"How, exactly?"

"We check the classrooms," he says, then lets out a jerky exhale, shoulders tensing up and eyes squeezing closed for a second.

Cameron, at least, is unfazed. "We don't usually check our patient's places of work, just their residences."

Chase isn't giving up. "She's in college," he counters. "It's more than likely that most of her time is spent outside of her dorm. We can ask other students in those classes if they've noticed anything weird."

"Other people would be sick, too," Foreman snaps at him, and Chase's entire face screws up for a moment. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but it's swallowed by a hum, the same tic House told him to suppress. Frustration passes over his features, and he goes quiet.

"It's worth looking into," Cameron says, her voice breaking through the sudden tension. "We can't check every classroom, though. Princeton's campus is way too big."

They lapse into silence after that, occasionally interrupted by Chase's humming tic. With how repetitive it's being, and how soft it is whenever he lets it out, it's clear that he's still trying to suppress it. Idiot; neither Foreman nor Cameron are going to yell at him for it.

Chase doesn't protest when Foreman claims the passenger seat. Instead, he leans against the window after buckling his seatbelt, letting his eyes slip closed for a moment. It's still pitch-black outside, aside from the streetlights and other establishments along the road. The dirty remnants of their recent snowfall are still pushed up against the curb, half-melted and refrozen into misshapen blobs. Cameron's attention flickers to their surroundings whenever they hit a red light, and she comments, "It's weird to see everything so... still."

Foreman huffs out a slightly-bitter laugh. "That's probably because, like most people, you're not awake at five in the morning."

"We're doctors," Cameron says, flicking her blinker on and glancing around the deserted road before turning left. She's a good driver, which is to be expected from a woman like her. Surprisingly relaxed behind the wheel, but he supposes that after seeing Chase drive, anyone would gain some confidence. "We work more than fifty hours a week, on average. Our sleep schedules revolve around the amusement of our boss, and unlike most people, I am woken up at five in the morning at least once a week." The smirk that follows that statement is surprising, but welcomed.

"Fair enough," Foreman concedes, then, realizing there hasn't been any input from their resident Aussie, glances at the backseat.

Chase is asleep, chest rising and falling steadily. With a start, Foreman realizes it's the first time he's ever seen Chase without a tic rippling underneath his skin, begging for release. He's oddly relaxed in sleep, muscles slack without any of the tension that normally binds him together. Even stranger, Chase somehow looks even younger than he normally does, with the strain gone from his face.

"Chase? You okay?" Cameron asks, obviously having noticed Foreman's sudden quietude.

"He's asleep," Foreman says, turning back to face the road again.

Cameron sighs and presses her lips together, sympathy blooming across her face. "He's probably exhausted. We can let him sleep."

"It's hasn't even been two hours since House called us; he shouldn't be crashing yet."

"He was attending a surgery before all this," Cameron reminds him, her gaze remaining focused on the road in front of them. Luckily, Princeton University isn't too far from PPTH, and Nassau Hall comes into sight after a handful of moments.

It doesn't take Cameron long to find suitable parking. "Do you want to wake him up, or should I?"

Foreman snorts. "He's not seven. Watch, this'll be enough." His boots crunch softly against the frozen grass, and he pointedly looks into the back windows until Cameron follows his gaze, then loudly shuts the car door.

Chase startles, jerking awake. Immediately, a tic forces his head to the side, and he glares at Foreman through the window before unbuckling and sliding out on Cameron's side.

"Not funny," he murmurs, once he comes into earshot. His accent is thicker with the remains of sleep clinging to him, making it harder to understand him than usual. He shivers a bit in the cool nighttime air, breath making clouds in front of him. "Can we go inside, now?"

The birds were just starting to sing by the time Foreman crossed the parking lot with Cameron and Chase, and glancing outside now as they make their way up to the fourth floor, dawn is already spilling across the sky.

Cameron drops their patient's file on the conference room table. "Negative for hepatitis A, B, and C."

"Liver panel come back yet?" House asks.

"No. It could be cancer," she suggests.

"A tumor, or multiple tumors, would have shown up on the MRI. Might be hemochromatosis, or Wilson's disease," Chase says, slumping into a seat. He presses his fingertips against his temple, wincing slightly.

Foreman interjects, "Maybe we're thinking about it the wrong way. Maybe it's not the liver malfunctioning because of a condition, maybe it's the liver malfunctioning because of what's going into it."

"We tested everything we got from her dorm," Cameron protests, "and it all came back negative for toxins."

"There's no way we got everything she came in contact with. Princeton's got a big campus."

"That's what I was saying earlier, but you both said other students would've been sick, if that were the case." Chase's elbow jerks back, and he sighs. "The problem is with her liver, not inside of it."

He twists away from the conversation, then, and preses his face into a raised shoulder. Shuddering softly, he releases a barely-audible "h'ksh!" He sniffles, and looks up to see House glaring at him.

"That's not a tic, is it?"

He shakes his head slowly, cheeks rosy with what Foreman assumes is embarrassment. "Just a sneeze."

"Bless you," Cameron murmurs. Chase flashes a half-smile at her.

"Do a biopsy of her liver," House says, staring at the whiteboard. "Foreman's right, it probably is inside of her. Question her for any symptoms that she might have chosen not to mention earlier. And see if she's been taking a high amount of over-the-counter painkillers recently." He pops a Vicodin, then, and raises his eyebrows at them, imploring them to go.

The weight of exhaustion is settling down on all of them, but no one bears it more obviously than Chase. His tics are coming out slower, less forcefully, as if he can't quite keep up with the pace they normally set for him. The motion will jolt through his body, and then Chase will actually become aware of it. Every tic has an echo, almost, where it comes out subdued and then Chase puts the effort in, repeating the action.

"You okay?" Cameron asks softly, and Chase nods.

"I just want to be done with this case," he responds.

Behind Chase, Cameron shoots Foreman a concerned look. The eldest doctor simply shrugs, and says, "The quicker we finish this, the quicker we'll figure it out."

Chase nods, then shudders again with another contained sneeze. "eK'sch!"

"Bless you," Cameron says once more.

"Thank you." Chase sniffles, then wrinkles up his nose, scrunching it twice. Foreman can't tell if it's a tic, or in response to the sneeze. Either way, Chase shakes his head, then says, "I'm going to go and get a room for the biopsy."

They watch him disappear down the hallway, white lab coat gradually blending in with the other doctors'. "Did he seem... off, to you?" Cameron asks, brow furrowed.

Foreman shrugs. "He's probably tired."

Cameron frowns harder. "He slept in the car on the way to Princeton and back."

"Ten minutes doesn't replace eight hours. Nor does it account for that surgery he assisted," Foreman points out.

Anything left of Cameron's argument dissolves when they arrive at Audrey's room. She's asleep, but stirs the second Cameron pushes her door open. There's an emesis basin on the floor next to the bed, freshly cleaned.

"Hey," she says, pushing herself up on her pillows. Her brow furrows as she takes in the two of them. "Where's the other doctor? The one with the accent?"

"Getting a room," Foreman says. The snark is unintentional, honestly, but he still can't get over the fact that it's always the college girls that have crushes on Chase.

Audrey's clearly unsatisfied by the half-answer, but at least she's got her priorities straight. "Do you... know what's wrong with me, yet? What did the tests say?"

"You're negative for hepatitis," Cameron says, looking at the monitor. "We're going to do a biopsy to rule out a couple of other possibilities, like hemochromatosis."

Audrey's eyes widen. "It's not serious, is it? Like, I'm not going to need surgery?"

"You shouldn't," Foreman comments, taking in her worried expression. Only half of their patients immediately jump to surgery, either expecting the worst or the best. "Why?"

"I've got a volleyball game in three days. Can't miss it."

"Your roommate mentioned something about you being on the varsity team," Cameron says, pulling out the paperwork for consent to a liver biopsy.

Audrey grins, taking the clipboard when Cameron offers it. "Yeah, Sammy's never been real interested in the sport. I love her to death, though." She rolls her eyes playfully at them before her tone sobers. "It's tough, y'know? My coach is already pissed that I'm missing practice because I'm in the hospital."

A sudden thought barges its way to the forefront of Foreman's brain. "You have a practice bag?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You keep it in your dorm?"

"Usually. I think Margo—one of my teammates—has it right now, although I have no idea why." Audrey looks at them. "Does it matter?"

Cameron glances from Audrey to Foreman, catching on. "It might."

"We've seen a lot of high school and college athletes take ibuprofen before their practices or games, just so that they can keep going," Foreman says. "It works in the moment, because you can't feel the pain of exerting yourself. Usually, it's warned against because athletes can't realize when to stop pushing their bodies."

"In other cases, though, an excess amount of ibuprofen is taken in over a long period of time. This can eventually lead to liver damage," Cameron explains.

Audrey closes her eyes and leans back against the pillows, her hands coming up to cover her face. Her voice is pained when she admits, "I've been taking two pills a day for almost two months, now."

Foreman looks over to Cameron. "I don't think we're going to need that biopsy."

Cameron's already moving, taking the clipboard from Audrey and taking out her pager, most likely to let Chase know of the change. Less than a moment later, she's shoving it back into her pocket and gesturing at Foreman. "He'll meet us at the labs. We've still got a vial of her blood left to run a test."

"House is going to be so annoyed," Foreman says, leaving the room and shaking his head in disbelief.

"We're treating you for ibuprofen overuse," Cameron explains, barely an hour later, attaching a bag to the IV stand. "This is going to flush your system, and you should be good to go."

"That's it?" Audrey asks, staring up at Cameron in shock. "Really?"

"Yep," Foreman says. He barely catches the sound of Chase repeating the word to himself quietly; a tic. "That's it."

Cameron warns, "Don't take this lightly. You can't take ibuprofen with repeated use, or you might damage your liver again."

"It's best for you if you stop taking NSAIDs completely for the next few months," Chase says. "That'll allow your liver to—to—to—"

Chase pauses to take a breath, clearly frustrated with the palilalia. His jaw snaps shut with an audible click of his teeth, and his head bobbles a few times, eyes glazing over. Foreman doesn't even realize what's happening until Audrey yelps.

"Oh, my God," Cameron breathes, surging to her feet.

Foreman ends up kneeling down on the floor right beside Chase, turning him onto his back and checking to make sure he's breathing. "Should've gone home," he mutters, glancing over to Cameron, whose concern is worn like a badge of honor.

Chase groans, his eyes fluttering weakly. Contrary to popular belief, unless they're slipping into a coma, most people only remain unconscious for a handful of seconds after fainting. Any longer, and brain damage is almost guaranteed.

"Are you okay?" Cameron asks, working with Foreman to get Chase up to a sitting position. It's not that hard; Chase isn't very heavy, and he's willing to work with them. Her fingers brush across his forehead and she freezes almost comically before putting the back of her hand against his skin. "You're burning up."

"Why didn't you tell us you were sick?" Foreman demands.

Before Chase is able to respond, angry beeping fills the room, joined by the sudden, desperate sound of choking. "She's asphyxiating," Cameron breathes, and rushes to shout, "We need help in here!"

The next minute is a blur. Foreman rushes to intubate, Cameron's pushing a cc of epinephrine, the nurses are frantic, and Chase is still on the floor, apparently feverish. The epinephrine kicks in, and slowly, the beeping of the alarm stops. Audrey stares up at them, eyes wide and pupils blown with fear.

"Not the ibuprofen," Cameron says, breathless.

"Not the ibuprofen," Foreman agrees.

There's a moment of silence where they're both clearly wondering what they're dealing with, if not overuse of ibuprofen.

Then, Chase groans, and their collective attention immediately switches back to their coworker, with the nurses able to handle Audrey for the time being.

"I'm fine," he mutters, already struggling to his feet. "Just need to... catch my breath." He punctuates the sentence with shoulder jerk.

"You just passed out, man, that's not exactly the definition of fine," Foreman says, pushing down on Chase's shoulder when he actually makes an effort to stand. "Stay down, man."

He gestures at the nurses. "We've still got a patient."

"What is it about the words 'you just passed out' that confuses you?" Cameron asks. "You didn't hit your head, did you?"

"Why are we fondling Chase in front of the patient?"

House's voice cuts through the room, and Cameron and Foreman both turn to look at him, Cameron with indignation and Foreman with sheer disappointment.

"I'm not—" Cameron starts.

"Zip it. I'm trying to get rid of the patient," House says, then limps over to Audrey's bed.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Audrey asks, her voice slightly raspy.

"I'm surprised you haven't been experiencing lung issues before now," House comments absently, looking at the detached IV bag of heparin that's no longer flowing into her veins. He sighs, then looks at her. "You have alpha-1 antritrypsin deficiency."

"What?"

"This is... Dr. House," Cameron says, interfering, and gives House a questioning glance. "AAT deficiency?"

He shrugs innocently. "It was on the liver panel."

Of course it was on the liver panel, considering that it took half a day longer than it should have to come back. The one thing that actually would have let them know what's wrong with her.

"The NSAIDs will clear out of your system normally. Try not to take any more, or you might end up right back here. And take it easy on the sports." House gives her one of his tight-lipped smiles, the ones he does only for politeness, then looks back over to Chase. "Why was she fondling you?"

"He passed out," Cameron replies shortly.

House's eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. "Why?"

"He's sick." Foreman gently hauls Chase to his feet, who sways the second he's upright and shakes his head violently enough to nearly send him right back to the floor. Foreman's hand clamps down tightly on his shoulder, keeping him on his feet.

"I'm fine," Chase repeats, but it's clear he knows he's defeated.

"Clearly not," House snarks. "One of you, drive him home. Or ask Wilson to do it. His lunch break is soon. Either way, we're done here." Unexpectedly, his tone softens, just a bit, when his gaze lands on Chase. "Get some sleep."

And then, he's leaving, cane tapping softly against the floor in a rhythmic pattern.

Cameron exchanges a look with Foreman. House is right; Chase is in no state to drive, not when he's practically on the verge of fainting again and nursing a fever of what Foreman guesses is nothing lower than one-oh-one. Cameron's place is only ten minutes away from the hospital, but in the complete opposite direction to Chase's. On the other hand, Foreman lives a bit further, but Chase's place isn't much of a detour for him.

"I can take him," he offers. "You finish up here."

Cameron nods, then murmurs, "Feel better," to Chase as she goes to console Audrey, who's looking more than freaked out.

Chase is quiet aside from the occasional tic as Foreman leads him down the hall to the diagnostic conference room so they can gather their stuff before leaving. Wilson's leaving House's office just as they walk in, and looks at Chase with sympathy in his expression.

"House said he passed out?" he questions.

Foreman nods his affirmation, shedding his lab coat as Chase hums. "Foreman's taking me home."

Wilson nods. "AAT deficiency?"

"We didn't get the liver panel back," Foreman says, rolling his eyes. "I'm assuming the tech didn't send up the printout like we asked."

"At least House didn't try to, I don't know, inject her with ursodiol." Foreman glances over at Chase, who now has his messenger bag slung across his chest and his wearing his jacket, beanie stuffed into the pocket. "You ready?"

"Yeah," he says, blinking hard. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Foreman nods at Wilson. "See you tomorrow."

"Drive safely," Wilson says, and goes back to his office.

Chase stays pretty close to Foreman as they head down the elevator, in spite of his initial protests that he was fine. He's always seemed like one of those doctors whose body would give up long before his brain did, kind of like House. But with the case ending abruptly, there's really nothing else they can do until House drops another file onto the conference room table.

The second they hit the cold air, though, Chase ducks away from him to bury a handful of sneezes in the elbow of his coat, becoming harsher as they progress. "h'ksHh! iK'schh! ih'gxXt!" The last one comes out slightly stifled, and Chase's shoulders tense up to his ears while both his elbows jerk back, the movement half-aborted, followed by the heel of his palm coming up to smack him in the chin. Foreman can hear it when his teeth slam together.

"Woah, you good?" Foreman asks.

Chase nods, breathing softly. "Can't sneeze and tic at the same time," he says, by way of explanation.

Foreman takes a second to piece that bit of information together. "Wait, so if you sneeze, it basically makes your tics worse?"

"Pretty much," Chase sighs. "My tics usually feel... heavier, I guess, when I'm sick. They're harder to get out, even though I need it."

"...That sucks, man," Foreman says. Chase huffs out a laugh, ticcing again while they walk through the parking lot.

"Yeah. I'm kind of used to it though, you know?" He pauses at Foreman's car. "You sure you want to drive me? You're going to have to get me tomorrow morning, too, because my car'll be here."

"It's fine. Whatever keeps you off the roads."

Chase sighs in agreement. "Believe me, I don't like it either."

They're referring to Chase's driving tic, which makes him wiggle the steering wheel. It's not much, but it was enough to catch both himself and Cameron off-guard the first and only time they let Chase drive to a patient's house. With a start, Foreman realizes this is the only time Chase has actually talked about his tics, bringing them up casually, like they're a normal part of his life. Which, he supposes, they are. They're just abnormal to the rest of them.

His thoughts are interrupted by Chase sneezing again. "eKh'sch'h! Sorry. Change in temperature." He blinks, half of his face twitches, and then sneezes again, more contained. "hk'tt!"

"Bless you," Foreman says. Chase is probably slightly delirious, he says to himself. That's why he's being open, for once.

He backs out of the parking spot, and takes Chase home.

#h/ouse m/d sickfic #sickfic #h/ouse m/d #r/obert c/hase #a/llison c/ameron #e/ric f/oreman #g/regory h/ouse #j/ames w/ilson #t/ourette's au #swts fic

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