#all dysphoria/dysmorphia starts with just thinking a bit too hard about how your body looks

[gendiebrainrotreceipts]

I have a submission about consequences of gender brainrot and in some way about how it’s socially contagious (the latter part is my guess since I don’t have exact proofs)

So there was this website in the 2010s called Rookie lead by Tavi Gevinson which essentially was an online magazine for girls with feminist perspective and I’ve been rereading some of the old articles and one in particular caught my attention.

It was an article from 2011 written by Sady Doyle (29 years old at the time) basically with the purpose of normalising different body concerns teenage girls can have about periods, size and shape of their breast (how all kinds of shapes and sizes of breasts are normal and fine), bodily functions, etc. The one part of this article though was about how being trans is normal, it explained the difference between being cisgender and transgender and Sady said since she’s a cisgender and have never experienced feelings that her body doesn’t match her gender she invited her trans woman friend Queen Emily to write the part. In this part this trans woman talked about how it’s fine to go on blockers or hormones, how being trans is persistent sense of wrongness about your sexed body and social role and etc.

Then I went to look up Sady Doyle on the internet to see what she’s up to nowadays and you could probably guess that she’s a he/they now and had a top surgery in 2022. This made me so sad how back in the day she wrote about being okay with your breasts, she specifically mentioned that she hasn’t experienced any disconnect between her body and gender to get to being trans with top surgery 11 years later. And she was an adult back then. So to me it speaks of social influence this whole current gender and transgender ideology has on people of all ages let alone teenagers and how people can get affected so much by all of this if they are living and working in this environment that in the adult age they start questioning themselves and don’t question the gender bullshit

x

[lucysweatslove]

10.29.2023 // I still don’t have a word for it.

Reality: I still don’t feel like my body is mine, and I don’t have a word for it. It isn’t quite depersonalization, as I don’t feel outside of my body. And it’s not gender specific so it’s not gender dysphoria either. It’s not body dysmorphia, because I know exactly what my body looks like, and that’s part of the problem- I understand how I look, it just doesn’t “feel” like me. But the second part of the problem is that I don’t think there is any way I can create congruency.

I get this feeling every so often. Usually it’s pretty fleeting, maybe a few hours of intense and distressing disconnect, then I sleep, and I just kind of move on. This time it’s just a little different- I don’t feel significantly distressed like usual, but I can’t move on from it. Every time I see my face or body, I KNOW it’s me and can feel physical sensations and emotions from my body. But

Maybe this is just the reality of getting older since I’m almost 30, though I also think a lot of it has to do with recovering on my own through this time as well. Like, maybe I disconnected from my own body a little to make recovery easier/less emotionally taxing because I didn’t have help navigating the emotional toll of a body that went from sick but socially acceptable to healthy but socially unacceptable. When I eventually got to a position where I could appreciate health in an “unacceptable” body, my health deteriorated and my body became even more “unacceptable.”

And now I’m in an aging body that is both socially unacceptable in appearance AND physically falling apart, I’m once again not sure how to accept it. I think part of this too is grief. Just thinking about the last 4 years of my life, when my health started falling apart to now- I’ve done a lot but haven’t really accomplished anything.

Nobody tells you how fast 4 years go by when you’re mid-20s. You wake up one day thinking you have time to figure your life out. You do some hard work to be okay with the fact that your life isn’t working out the way you planned, that it’s okay to be set back a little, and you’re dedicated to doing what is needed to get where you want to be… but then you blink, you’re almost 30. You may have successfully done a lot, which deserves celebration, but you aren’t caught up because time moved the same for you as it did the fresh faced 20 year old.

I AM proud of myself for navigating life the last several years. Recovery was hard on its own, but I also got a master’s degree, got married, adopted a pug, supported my husband through TWO hip replacement surgeries, applied to medical school, got into medical school, and have already navigated a couple blocks. It just took me a lot longer to navigate all of these things than I thought it would.

I think I’ve always felt like I’ve been playing catch up in some way. Sometimes I wonder if this is a common autistic or “twice exceptional” experience or if it’s just… something a good proportion of the world experiences… or maybe it’s just something those who have experienced severe mental illness experience idk.

I don’t really know what is going to help me feel reconnected. My instinct of course is what I always do- major diet and restrict, try to drop as much weight as rapidly as possible. Sometimes I think, if I were back to X size, I’d like the way clothes fit again, but I know that another huge part is that I do NOT feel like me at all in the kinds of clothing I’m expected to dress in- though I also know that the clothes I like are more “socially acceptable” on smaller bodies. Seriously, I see the clothes my peers wear and look amazing and professional in, but I know if I were to try the same outfit it just wouldn’t look right on my body. Every time I try to wear clothes that feel like me, I feel like I look wrong in them, even if the clothes fit.

Normal people can probably just go on a diet for a little bit, lose some weight, bounce back into their bodies (thought efficacy of keeping that weight off may be variable). I, however, have to worry about going back to my own personal hell every time I so much as consider how many grams are in my breakfast banana.

So anyway, no actual resolution. I’m stuck in this meat sack wired to interact with the world via electrolytes (sodium, calcium, potassium, chloride) and neurotransmitters. Attempting to change it could be Very Bad for me. Attempting to be “health minded” could also just be thinly veiled attempts to change the meat sack, which again, could be Very Bad. Soooo idk.

I guess next week’s therapy session will be interesting and worth the $25 copay.

[soft-boi-eli]

Ok ok! Good uhm.

Ok since body dysmorphia has been kicking my butt lately i wanted to request something with Schlatt where basically the reader Starts getting really insecure because of their body. Pushing and pulling on their stomach etc. They also start binding unsafely with like really tight bras because they can't afford a binder and they end up fucking up their ribs really bad. They end up in the hospital and a very worried Schlatt visit's them and lectures them about how they shouldn't have done that and about how worried he was. So when they get back home there is a gift on the bed, turns out Schlatt bought them a binder.

The reader would be Non-binary and afab.

Also a little message for pretty much anyone who is insecure about their body/has body dysmorphia because of their chest, don't bind unsafely. That can really fuck up your chest and make you actually being happy with your body even harder.

Hell yes. I love this idea thank you icarus! Writing has been rude to me lately and I needed inspiration. This has hit it exactly.

Pronouns:nonbinary (dont think any were actually used in this so yeah.)

Tw: AFAB reader, swearing, insecurity, mention of surgry, mention of blood, mention of hating self, pain. Again angst to fluff. It is reflecting on how I have felt about my body before because I needed to make it seem kinda real.

PSA: please dont bind safely. It's dangerous and can lead to serious health consequences. I know hating your body sucks but I dont want anyone to get hurt because they dont listen to their lungs, they dont take off their binder, or if their bras are way too fucking tight. It can and will hurt you. So please bind safely!!

Happy birth-what the fuck?!

Lately your brain was giving you more dysphoria then ever. Telling you your body was too big, your boobs were too noticable, and you hips are too feminine.

What brought this on? Someone simply said your dead name. It made your dysphoria hit you like a truck.

After that day everything went down hill. Your stopped streaming, telling your followers that you were going on a mental break, you didn't really talk to friends, your brain could put words together. And you most importantly barely texted your loving supporting boyfriend schaltt, not wanting to break down in front of him.

You never had the time or thoughts of getting a chest binder. It was your biggest mistake honestly.

Deciding against chest binders and wearing alot of tight bras to flatten you. But it didnt work. So you got tighter bras. And they did work. But you didnt read up on how to bind safely.

This lead to the predicament now. In front of your mirror you were pinching and pulling at your skin. There was too much. All you wanted to do was cut it off with scissors. But decided against it due to the fact of all the blood that you would loose.

Your chest, smaller then it was yas, was still visible after your 3rd bra. You decided to add a 4th and tighter one hoping it would completely hide your boobs.

Your body made you want to puke. It made you feel disgusting. But you never told schaltt that. Afraid that he would say that you looked as gross as you thought you did.

Only 5 minutes after the 4th bra you felt excoriating pain in your ribs. And worse of all a harsh pop. That immediately brought red flags. It hurt to breath. Your head fuzzy and light headed.

Your only reaction, to call for an ambulance. Dialing the three numbers as you whimpered in pain you held onto your lungs. "911 what's your emergency?" "I cant breathe. It hurts so bad. Please help." "Are you by yourself?" "Yes. I need help please." "Ambulance, firemen, and police are on their way. Ambulance is 2 minutes out."

You didnt know if you had 2 minutes. "They can break the door down if I dont answer." That's all you said after collapsing.

Next thing you knew your door was busted off its hinges and you saw two paramedics. They were quick to transfer you to the ambulance, cutting through the four bras that held your chest.

It help get air to your lungs but it barely helped.

"We have a collapsed lung. ETA 2 minutes." The paramedic back there with you spoke to the walkie talkie.

Collapsed lung? Was that the harsh pop? God, was the bras that bad of an idea? All that was going through your mind was how you possibly could get worse. The instant you got into the trauma bay was way worse. With no time to numb you and your O2 stats dropping they had to cut between your ribs and shove a tube right next to your left lung. Draining air and excess blood blocking your lung from inflating. And before you knew it you were off to emergency surgery for getting a shard of bone out of your chest cavity.

The last thing you remember was counting down and falling asleep.

When you woke up your boyfriend was next to your bed, hands engulfing one of yours.

It looked like he had been crying before falling asleep on one of your legs. Taking your free hand through his hair you smiled lightly. "I'm sorry for all of this ram boy." He grunted lightly and moved his head back into your hand. His messy hair was thick and nearly matted. It made you wonder how long he's been sitting there. You loved him and felt so selfish for doing this to him.

"I cant believe I did all this and for what? To cause you and everyone pain? All because i couldnt afford a chest binder and deciding that I might as well try another way. I should have been safer huh?" You didnt expect an answer back. Just his quite snores.

"Yeah. Not really fuckin selfish more like kinda dumb. Your body doesnt show who the fuck you are (y/n). Your heart does. And your heart isnt say boy or girl. Its saying you are you. A person who uses pronouns they them. A person that love everyone and cares for their friends. A person who love me and jambo so deeply."

He took a breath.

"You normally are quite smart. Saving up for one would of been a better idea instead of doing such a stupid thing. Asking for my help. Because if I knew I would of helped. I would of found one just right for you. I would help you remember to take it off after 8 hours. Even would of found a way to make you feel more like you."

You could hear his heart break.

"But now you're here, four broken ribs, a healing lung, and stuck in the hospital for another week at least."

You felt so guilty. He was right. You should of told him. He would never have seen you like you saw yourself. He never cared about how you looked. He only cared for your heart.

Tears falling down your face you continued to massage his scalp. "I could of lost you. You are my rock. When I cant keep up my normal antics and feel like I'm at an all time low. You are there to pick me up." You had to stop the sob from coming up. "I'm just so happy youre alive." He looked up.

His red eyes were making your heart ache. "I wont do it again I promise. But I cant just ignore the feeling of dread whe. I look down and realize I present so much like a girl. I dont wa t to be one." Schaltt nodded and kissed the hand he was holding. "Then let me help you. I wont let this happen again. Just please. Come to me. Talk to me. I'm here like you are for me."

You gave a small nod.

This man knew his way to your heart. He was so sincere about this. "I will. But promise me you wont look down on me if I end up feeling like that." You just needed to make sure you knew he would never but you needed his words. "Mever sugarbabe. Never in my life have I looked down on you and never will."

God the week was long, him and the doctor explaining safe binding that you cant fully bind for at least 6-8 weeks. Schlatt telling you his reaction to finding your apartment swarmed with police and firemen and you no where to be seen.

He was practicing on saying happy birthday to you. But was cut off. "Happy birth-what the fuck?!" He was so concerned and even more so when you were in hospital.

When you did go home he helped you through the door, and watched you as you saw the small package on your couch.

Opening it you saw a chest binder. Specifically the one you were looking at. Looking over to schaltt with tears in your eyes you walked up and hugged him lightly minding the pain in your left side. This was the best gift.

The only gift you had been wanting for the past week or two. "Now you can be safe. But no binding till your doctor says so or I swear to god I will personally smite you down." You had to try so hard no to laugh or the pain would of been hell. Kissing his cheek you smiled.

"Of course schaltt. I will make sure to not wear it till I'm healed dont want to get blood on it ya know. Also it would hurt like a fucking bitch."

He chuckled and ruffled your hair. "Alright now go sit down. I'll get you some soup ya dork."

This was going to be a great time. That was until the pain fully came back. And then this is going to be a mediocre time.

Please pardon spelling errors. I havent proof read. And I am on mobile for almost all stories. But thank you so much for requesting this became something that I could write and it helped me alot. Now I might take a while for other things too and i apologize that's cause i am starting school soon. Also family issues. So yeah might take a bit. Dont know how long though. I'll try to keep them coming but if not you know I'm studying or helping my mom and grandma.

Eli out.

[potatopossums]

Insecurity and Boundaries: A Necessary Coexistence

Content Warning:

This post includes discussions / mentions of:

bodily insecurities, explicitly including dysmorphia, dysphoria, and implicitly including but not limited to eating disorders, weight

childhood trauma including shame, humiliation, fear

coping mechanisms, both healthy and unhealthy, including anxious avoidance, projection, masking, reflection

mentioned references to all of the above through lenses of morality, cis white feminism and sexualized body positivity

adhd

—

Author's Note:

Written through the lens of adhd, anxiety, depression, queerness, transness, nonbinaryness, aromanticism, alterous attraction, and as always, questioning.

—

Ngl I've had the opportunity to date/"be with" (in whatever capacity) several quite attractive ppl, and the last couple have been great examples of something that actually kind of triggers me / turns me off.

I didn't really know what to make of it then, and I felt bad about it then too because I thought I was just being judgy. Not saying some of that isn't potentially still there, but i think i understand better now.

It honestly kind of scares me when I have the opportunity to have close relationships with people with bodily dysphoria/dysmorphia or strong insecurities. My brain has a really bad habit of being reflective when I'm feeling vulnerable. I just match people. It's a way of masking while relating to people. It's a defense mechanism. But it feels quite real in the moment and i often don't realize it's happening until it has already happened.

But as a nonbinary person who gets misgendered a lot at work, I've spent a lot of time now very acutely aware of my own body (as if i wasn't already). I don't tend to hate my body in a vacuum. I actually enjoy my body. I like how it looks in certain clothes; I like how I can trick the eye and make it look another way with other clothes, and then surprise, it's a different body underneath! I like how my body feels when i masturbate, i like how my body feels in the warm sun, i like how my body feels when i self-soothe. Even when I'm in pain, in some of those moment, i like that my body exists because I know something is happening inside me, something systematic and programmed, something beyond me that does it's evolutionary purpose, no matter how flawed. I've always had a curiosity about bodies in general (gender and sex completely aside). So when i say i love my body, i mean that.

Does it mean i don't struggle with dysphoria? Of course i struggle. And it makes me feel like shit.

Sure, I've got that Cis White Feminist Self-Loathing Intervention Voice in my head that says "all bodies are beautiful" (and she really means all women are beautiful but I'll co-opt her lines to fit my agenda). That voice is problematic because like. I like being beautiful, but why do I want to be beautiful, and what happens when I'm not beautiful? How do I guage whether I'm beautiful at any given moment? Isn't that largely subjective even with an overarching cultural & social standard? When I feel "ugly" — my cowlicks sticking up, teeth unbrushed, i feel too short, i feel i look too childish, I'm afraid my boobs are showing in a way i don't want to be seen, etc. — who's to say that someone else doesn't find some of those things attractive? So attractiveness is a poor method of confidence, despite how influential it still is on my brain and personality. That influence is fear based.

All that in mind, when I hear other people struggling with their bodies, especially in a Trans/Non-Binary/Dysphoric way, it really scares me. I mean, any bodily struggles scare me because I have my own insecurities to deal with. And when I'm in that state of really wanting to keep a connection because abandonment trauma + adhd, my vulnerable brain says that in order to impress someone, I must reflect relatably. So that has me digging back into my bodily insecurities. And I explore them as if I should be feeling them.

Let me unpack that. I'm avoidant with my anxieties. I don't talk about them, and I don't think about them much if I can help it, because when I think about them, that result can be largely painful, dramatic, and too emotionally volatile for me to handle. I always want to look put together, I want to feel secure enough to not need to ask for help, because those few times it went badly when I asked for help still stick with me (regardless of how long ago those moments were, and regardless of how many good times I've had where received actual help since). I remember the embarrassment and humiliation, the shame, the fear, the guilt. I remember wanting to make myself smaller, and how crushing that felt to do. I remember how little I understood of these wild and complex emotions, and all I knew was that I felt violated and disgusting. And I turned that inward. Because I had no external support.

So me saying that I explore my anxieties "as if I should be feeling them" is multi-pronged. It's Cis White Feminist Body Positivity, it's all those family members who modeled and normalized self-hatred for me from a young age, it's bodily dysphoria/dysmorphia at being misgendered, it's me trying to convince myself that my body truly is okay and that my negative inner voice doesn't know what it's talking about due to it's poor influences, and it's me ultimately not being able to reconcile all that on my own (or fast enough, thanks adhd) and resorting to anxious avoidance of my insecurities as if that solves them.

And then, when I hear someone I might kind of want to be intimate with start to talk about their insecurities, my brain panics. It says, "If you go in there, you will lose it. You will fall into the same hole they're in. You will have to suffer just as much for them, and for yourself. You will lose all your energy and you will start to hate yourself. They will treat your body the way they treat their body. You will be made to hate yourself."

And even though I know plenty of people with dysphoria/dysmorphia and other bodily struggles absolutely won't do those sorts of things, I also know that projection is a thing. And considering how poor I am at boundaries and how I tend to adopt unhealthy relationship dynamics due to my avoidance, I know that it would just start a bad cycle for me. Even with all the empathy and understanding in the world, I simply cannot root myself in a situation that would cause me to loathe myself.

And again, in case this wasn't clear: this is absolutely not a statement about people with bodily confidence issues as a whole. I am not trying to villainize or demonize or moralize their experiences. That is markedly the opposite of what I intend here.

But it took a long time for me to get to this point in my self-awareness. And i wanted to share it because i want other people to be able to reach an understanding of themselves too, whatever that understanding might entail. Yeah, it's a little cliche, but our projections and fears about others can have a lot to do with our fears about ourselves. It's important to be self-aware, even if that doesn't immediately solve the problem(s).

I tend to really like confident people because of this. That attraction has it's own roots in confidence issues, and its own potential flaws. And until I can change my own avoidant anxiety, I'm going to find new ways to project my avoidance and shame onto others, regardless of whether they are confident or unconfident, dysphoric or not.

But, just because I'm projecting doesn't mean that I'm unworthy of boundaries. Even if my behaviors are unhealthy, even if I do need to work to change those things (and even though I actively want to change those things), it is still healthy for me to know my limits. It's healthy to know what triggers me. It's good for me to realize these things and step back, even if the relationship I'm leaving/not starting is arguably "good." (And that assumption is a whole other topic for another post.)

So, along with whatever other epiphanies you might have received from this read, here's my major takeaway that I want to leave you with:

Your boundaries are okay. Even if they're based in anxiety, even if they're based in unhealthy coping mechanisms, even if you want to change your unhealthy behaviors/mindset. Your boundaries do not need to pass any social justice or morality tests in order to be valid. Your boundaries do not have to "make you grow." Your boundaries are not bad, even if you feel like they keep you from being the best version of yourself.

The only way you can actually grow is if you respect yourself enough to respect and enforce your boundaries. The only way you can feel comfortable and happy and healthy is if you respect your boundaries.

So please do that for yourself. Please respect your boundaries. I know it's very hard, especially for people-pleasers. I know it's hard for you avoidant types. I know it's hard for those of us who mask and reflect.

But please, just a little bit at a time, respect yourself. Even if that means disappointing or hurting others with a "no."

And please, please, please surround yourself with people who respect your boundaries and stand up for you. Of all the work I've tried to do alone, nothing compares to the effectiveness and growth I've experienced when I've been around radically affirming people — people who fought for my right to say no; people who defended my boundaries no matter what they entailed; people who stood up for my pronouns at work; people who validated my life experiences, labels, queerness, and questioning. It can be difficult to find people like that in real life, but please stay in the company of people who do that for you. Even if they're online. Stay near people who model self-respect for you. They will help you practice how to treat yourself.

—

[mcrmadness]

At least I kinda confirmed to myself that I am nonbinary when I did one of these Picrew tag games the other day, but I haven’t posted it yet because I didn’t find a correct hair and it ended up looking too masculine (for my liking). Like it literally looks like a guy. I’m afab but I always identified as a girl when I was growing up because I was ever only given two options and I knew for sure I was not a boy. And I still don’t (fully) relate to guys. But also not to gals.

I also remember that on Tumblr I identified as a demigirl for some time but then it just moved even more to the middle until it yeete out of the whole thing and since then I’ve been using the term nonbinary but my actual... feel of my gender is closer to agender than anything else. Most of the time it’s just me having no gender whatsoever and my body has nothing to do with my gender and I couldn’t care less about how it’s like. Some days I guess I kinda return to the binary as I feel more masculine and feminine and it really depends on the day if that is a good or bad thing. I love big t-shirts and big hoodies always but some days I’m feeling perfectly fine in a bit tighter t-shirt (but still fantasize about buying that one in a bigger size) but then there’s also days (usually the PMS/period days when everything in my body just gets so bloated...) where I just don’t feel like myself in that tighter t-shirt at all and either just keep taking off and putting on my hoodie nonstop, and some days I just feel that today’s a day for a big t-shirt so I don’t even bother trying on the tighter one.

I don’t use the word trans about myself because I kinda feel so disconnected to my body thanks to dissociation that I barely even notice having a body ever, so it doesn’t cause me dysphoria either. (HOX: This does not mean that I’d think trans = have to feel dysphoria - not at all, I actually think it’s idiotic when people say you need to be in mental pain in order to be “allowed” to be trans. It’s just that personally I don’t feel good about using the word about myself because someone close to me is transgender and I don’t feel like transitioning myself, I don’t feel that I miss body parts or have unnecessary extra ones. Sure I do absolutely nothing with my boobs nor uterus but it’s not that I’d feel getting rid of them for gender reasons. There’s also lots of ciswomen who think theirs are useless. Also, I kinda don’t want to steal the label from this person, and don’t want anyone thinking it’s a trend or that I’m copying this person and don’t want anyone to take this person less seriously just because someone else around them realized afterwards that hey, I’m nonbinary btw. So, that are some of my personal reasons for not using the term about myself.)

My issue is more of the body dysmorphia. There’s things in my body I don’t like but it’s not about gender. That’s also why I don’t feel that I’d need plastic surgery done because I would never be happy anyway. I have talked about this with the said trans gender person and the clear difference between dysphoria and body dysmorphia is that in dysphoria you see the true body and you know what has to be done in order to look correct to match the body image in your head. With body dysmorphia you already see a distorted image in the mirror and no surgery can change it because there’s always going to be more things that are wrong - when nothing was actually wrong to begin with.

My ideal body image in my head? Well it’s an interesting one, but when I look at myself from the mirror or think about how I see myself, all I see is a caricature. And I don’t trust mirrors or cameras, there’s always something wrong with them and if I look like “myself”, I just think I look so hideous I can’t show this to anyone. If I think I look fairly nice for once, I feel that I don’t look myself = hideous, I can’t show this to anyone because then they think I look nice when in reality I’m more like a monster and they’d feel like I lied to them by showing photos where I look like a human. 

I can’t deal seeing photos of me with other people or seeing my reflection when I’m with other people. I can’t deal with seeing my face with an expression that is not my neutral bitchy resting face. If I do that, I start to dissociate the second I saw it and I feel that all the joy is sucked out of me. I already had this when I was a teenager and I hated the mirror that was there at the school wall and I walked past it every time. I always dissociated so hard when I saw myself with others. So often I walked past it with friends, saw myself smiling or laughing and then I just... wiped that smile off because it felt so wrong. I was never able to really explain what it was but I guess partially a bullying trauma because I always felt that seeing myself having fun with friends was not acceptable, and I felt this enormous... I don’t know, self-loath? Something that was all about how I don’t deserve it, and that I’m stupid to think they are havng fun with me for real. I could only explain that as feeling like I was doing something very, very wrong when I was laughing or smiling because I had friends and I still am not sure where does that originate from, but this is the reason why there’s no photos of me with friends or other people unless it’s relatives. It’s very sad as it’d be nice to have some memories like this but I can’t because I need to either look like a serial killer or I start dissociating (depersonalization) because I look like a monster and I can’t recognize myself and I feel that people are seeing the wrong person there. Still I have absolutely no clue what I am SUPPOSED to look like. Like, I don’t really have a body image. I don’t have an ideal body image. I know what I want to do about my BODY but I can’t change my face because of the bone structure of my skull, so I’ll just look like a monster for the rest of my life.

So if you ever hang out with me as if any of you ever would bebecause I live thousands of kilometers away from EVERYONE asdddddddddddd, don’t be weirded out if you notice me avoiding looking into mirrors and other reflective surfaces if I could see myself from them with you. I just don’t like seeing those things because it distracts me and my brain yeets to dissociation and it’ll be slightly difficult to contact me for a brief moment then.

[selfmademen]

Top Surgery Experience

Okay, so I said I would do a write up of my top surgery experience and I’ve finally gotten around to it. Uni started right after so I’ve been fairly frazzled.

Please feel free to ask any questions you may have! I’ll do my best to answer them.

To start with, I currently live in NSW, Australia. There are a few Australian top surgeons, but as a NSW resident my best bet was Dr Steven Merten, with Pure Aesthetics in Sydney. Because Australia has a public healthcare system I was able to get my top surgery under that scheme. As far as I’m aware Dr Merten is the only top surgeon who offers this surgery through the public system. He works in partnership with Concord Hospital in Sydney, and that’s where I had my surgery. If you go privately there are other options for the hospital you stay at. There are pros and cons to the public system, which I’ll detail below.

Pros:

I paid $500~ out of pocket instead of between $5k and $10k (if you have private health insurance it may cover some)

Since he’s in my state I didn’t have to travel far

He’s one of the most experienced top surgeons in the state

there’s two places for appointments, either at his clinic or at the Macquarie uni rooms

Cons:

because I went publicly he didn’t perform the surgery personally, rather a registrar did. However, he was in the room the entire time overseeing the operation.

because he’s so popular I had to wait a full year from the first consultation to the actual surgery date

 it was extremely hard to get onto the wait list due to how popular he is.

the public system is only available to NSW residents over 18

I was lucky in that my GP at the time knew him professionally and called in a favour so that I knew the moment his books were open, and I am forever grateful for that. It is MUCH easier to get an appointment with him through the private system, but that’s a lot more expensive. For me, the pros far outweighed the cons here, and I decided I could wait a year for my surgery. I had also intended to lose weight beforehand, but that didn’t happen. Woops.

Prior to my first consultation I needed a referral both from my GP, and a registered psychologist or psychiatrist detailing my transition and documented dysphoria surrounding my breasts. The first consultation was $300 iirc, and I paid a $100 deposit, so only paid $200 on the day. Medicare also gave me a $100-something rebate.

The first consultation was fairly quick. He asked some questions about my transition, what my expectations were regarding surgery, detailed my options, and explained the procedures. He measured my breasts, but never touched me (I kinda just picked them up and moved them where he asked). He also took a photo of my chest, with my consent.

I didn’t actually hear from them until about three months before my surgery because my details got lost, but USUALLY the hospital will get in contact with you regarding your surgery date, what you should expect, and when your pre-op consultation is. I also had to fill out a pre-op health questionnaire and personal details. Due to my high level of haemoglobin as a side effect of T, I was required to provide them with more recent blood test results, but you may not have to do this. Usually there is also a pre-op appointment with the nurses and anethetist at the hospital, but the nurse I spoke to said that I didn’t need to go if I didn’t have any pressing concerns.

My pre-op consult with Dr Merten was a couple of weeks before my surgery, however, it’s usually around the same time. This one was $100, and I also had to pay $130 for a medical compression vest which I have to wear for up to three weeks post-op. Again, Medicare partially reimbursed my consultation fee, but not the vest.

During this consultation we basically covered the same things, and I also saw a nurse who told me what medications to avoid, and briefed me on post op care. She also gave me my medical vest, wound tape, and some pamphlets.

Some things she covered:

smokers should stop smoking 12 weeks before surgery

 you should limit your alcohol intake the week before surgery, and don’t drink alcohol AT ALL during the two days immediately prior to surgery

no herbal medications, asparin, ibuprofen, or other blood thinners for two weeks prior to surgery. IF YOU ARE ON BLOOD THINNERS FOR MEDICAL REASONS THIS MAY BE DIFFERENT FOR YOU.

do not eat or drink anything from midnight the night before your surgery. Morning medication (antidepressants in my case) can be taken with a sip of water.

 the night before and morning of surgery I had to shower with a special soap that was provided in order to kill bacteria on my skin.

I did have to call the admissions centre the day before my surgery to confirm my appointment time. For me it was 8:30. Before going in I had a brief interview with a nurse, who took down my details and checked me for allergies and medical conditions. I was given my wrist bands (red, since I have a codeine allergy), and directed up to where I would meet the nurses. There I changed into the operating gown (you can keep your undies on) and compression socks due to my weight.

I was taken to a prep room before the operating theatre where Dr Merten marked my chest. Basically where things would be cut, lipo’d, etc. I was feeling nervous so the anethetist also came in, did my canula and gave me something to relax (don’t know what it was). He was extremely kind and friendly, and said he was honoured to be included in this part of my journey, which I honestly thought was an incredibly sweet thing to say, and I’m very grateful for how he looked after me.

The relaxation shit kinda made me dopey, and pretty much immediately I was wheeled into the theatre. They had me wriggle from the bed onto the table, I nearly fell off, but it was all good. I don’t really remember much from here, but there was some music playing, and the nurses and registrar were setting up.

At this point the anethetist put the mask on and told me to take some deep breaths. I remember it tasting and smelling really weird, and the next thing I know I was waking up in recovery.

I’m not sure how long I was in recovery for because I kept drifting in and out, but they gave me something for the pain and then wheeled me to the ward. I started waking up properly around this time, had a chat with the people transporting me, and by the time I was in the ward I was fully alert (and really needed to pee).

Because of my size and the way the surgery worked out, I did have a few staples at the ends of my incisions, and I also had to put the compression vest on. I also had drains, with bags that needed to be changed every twelve hours. Nurses would also come and take my blood pressure and check that everything was okay and that I wasn’t in too much pain. They were all extremely welcoming and accepting, never misgendered me once, and even double checked my name and pronouns to ensure that everyone knew. My mate was also allowed to stay with me pretty much the whole day until dinner, which really helped me cos I’m bad with hospitals.

After surgery I was stiff and ached a little, but there wasn’t too much pain. I was able to go to the toilet myself, although wiping was very difficult for the first week.

I stayed overnight, and was discharged the next day. They gave me anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, and some opiates to help the pain. I should note here that I do have an extremely high pain tolerance, so outside of days where I pushed myself a bit too far, I generally didn’t need to use them.

I’m unsure if my experience is unusual, as I was able to do pretty much everything immediately post-op. Of course, I’ve been taking it easy, but dressing, sleeping, cooking, moving, has all so far been generally okay. I have had some pain on days where I moved about too much, or sat up too much, but that’s also partially chronic pain flaring up due to my bad back.

I was discharged with my drains still in, as I’m a bleeder. Usually with Dr Merten they’re removed before discharge, but I was sent home with some bags and instructed to change them every 24 hours and keep a record of how much had drained. I think I wound up keeping my drains in for around a week before they were removed.

I went to the medical centre twice to have my dressings changed and drains checked (and eventually removed), and was sent home with a sterile staple remover for my GP to remove my staples with. They’ll be coming out at the end of the week. The drains didn’t hurt when removed, it just felt like an odd tugging sensation. The stitches Dr Merten used are dissolving ones, so no need to get them taken out.

I do have to change my nipple dressings every three days, and the tape on my incisions can stay on for up to a week. The stuff I use is extremely strong and has glue on it, so I’m a bit hesitant to change it on my own (nearly ripped a staple out last time I changed my dressings).

I’m roughly three weeks post-op now, and I have pretty much all my mobility back. Showering is difficult, as is bending over or reaching to one side (tugs on my incisions). There is pain when I do things, but unless something actively tugs at, touches, or puts pressure on my wounds I’m not in any pain. Mostly its just an annoyance at this stage.

I’m still sleeping on my back, although I can lie on my side for short periods of time. There’s some bruising around my armpits where I had liposuction, and there is a small numb patch on my left side. I can’t feel my nipples, but I also couldn’t feel them prior to this so it’s not a huge loss.

I’ve seen some people say that they felt depressed post-op because of a hormone fluctuation, but personally when I saw my chest it felt natural and right. I didn’t cry (not a big crier) and I wasn’t surprised or shocked or… overwhelmed. To me it was my outer body finally reflecting my inner self. I already looked like this in my own mind, so it was just natural that it looks the way it does post-op.

Unfortunately some dysmorphia and self-esteem issues surrounding my weight have resurfaced, but that’s not really related to the top surgery, and it’s something I’m able to work on as I recover.

If there’s something I haven’t covered that you’re curious about, please send an ask! I’ve tried to be as thorough as possible, but its been a few weeks and some details are fuzzy.

[ghoulboyboos]

Ryan mentioning body/food issues briefly in a video and having an emotional conversation with Shane after

This one was actually tough! Because I do have dysphoria and dysmorphia but I never had food issues myself. I hope I did it justice, nonny!

Yeah, heads up of course for body issues, eating disorders (as in “eating your feelings”) and follow up issues.

“Couldn’tthey just… I don’t know, give them some pudding and tell them toleave?”

Ryanwheezes and half drops on the table.

“Wh-what?”

“Yeah,you know, give them a pudding cup and be like-”

“Th-thanksfor staying here’s some pudding now shove off?”

“Yeah!”

Shaneis smiling brightly and grins over at Ryan who is just shaking hishead.

“Ireally don’t think… How the fuck does your brain work? That’snot how you get people to leave a crime scene after theydecided to have sit-in because nobody tries to solve a murder-I-”

Ryan iswheezing again and Shane is giggling next to him.

“Iwould leave for a pudding cup!” Shane shrugs at the camera.

“WellI wouldn’t.”

“Really?!”Shane looks at him in disbelief. “It’s pudding!”

Ryanjust shrugs.“I haven’t had pudding since I was fifteen.”

Shane’sjaw drops and he glances between Ryan and the camera, stunned. Hestares at his co-host and sees the grin slip a little. Shane is aboutto ask when Ryan leans in and mutters quietly:

“I’lltell you later, not now.”

Shaneonly nods and pushes the question down. Ryan gives him a gratefulsmile before he flips the page in his case file and continues to readthe events of the case they are going through.

-

Shaneexpects Ryan to get back to the issue after the shoot, but he doesn’tso Shane doesn’t pry. The rest of the day is the same and Shane isstarting to worry that he has breached a topic he’s not permittedto. He’s starting to think about a way to apologize to his friendand finds it hard to focus on work for the rest of the day. Ryansaves his ass from falling over himself trying to find a way to hangout with him to maybe apologize – by inviting him over himself.

“Youwanna come hang at my place and watch something and make somepopcorn?”

Shaneswallows. He tries to read Ryan’s face if he is supposed to broachthe subject or not, but Ryan seems relaxed and the question had comeout very by-the-by. So Shane assumes they’ll just drop it andpretend it didn’t happen. He can deal with that.

“Sure.I still haven’t watched season two of One Day at a Time.”

Ryangapes at him.

“Youdo know I consider that a personal attack, Sir.”

Shanelaughs and holds his hands up in defense.

“Okay,okay, I’m sorry. We’ll fix that, then.”

-

Theygrab some take-out on the way and end up on Ryan’s couch, feetpropped on the table with the Styrofoam containers strewn about themand the popcorn machine chugging away in the distance. The theme inthe credits of episode one is barely over when Ryan suddenly reachesfor the remote and pauses the show.

Shanehas relaxed so far that he doesn’t even think about it much. He’sexpecting Ryan to go and grab the popcorn or maybe use the bathroom.He almost drops his food when Ryan starts to speak.

“WhenI was a kid… I used to get sore throats all the time. Like, reallybad inflammation.”

Heleans back a little as he looks at Shane and starts touching hisneck, pressing his fingertips to the sides.

“Allof this would swell up. It was tonsillitis once or twice and I had mytonsils removed when I was eleven.”

Shaneswallows and puts his food away. He sits up a little and twists, sohe’s half facing Ryan.

Ryanblinks at him and then looks down at the table.

“Youknow how they give you a bunch of ice cream afterwards? Because youreally can’t eat anything. It only got a little better afterwards,ever so often I would get pain and swelling again. I really didn’tlike soup so what I ended up eating was mostly ice cream and pudding.Anything that was kind of liquid. But because I was in pain I alsowanted to eat nothing but sweet stuff, because it made me feelbetter.”

Hisface darkens and Shane shifts in his seat, unsure if he should reachout and touch his shoulder or stay where he is.

“Ryan…”He finally starts. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’twant to.”

“No,no it’s fine.” Ryan sighs. “I just don’t know how to explainit. I kept eating the stuff even when I wasn’t sick because… Idon’t know, it made me feel better about anything I had. It wasunhealthy, I knew that, but I would just gorge myself on freakin’pudding cups like a cartoon character.”

Hehuffs his breath through his nose.

“Itgot so bad that I would buy them in bulk, sometimes the little Asianstyle ones that are more like jello, you know.” He forms a circlewith thumb and forefinger to indicate the little cups.

“Iwould stash them under my bed and keep the trash in an extra bag,because I knew my parents would tell me it’s not good to keepeating it. But eventually, it just became my coping mechanism. When Istruggled in school, when I got in a fight with a friend, when I hadto deal with some shitty racist kid in the basketball court…Whatever it was, shoveling the stuff in my face made me feel better.Or, well, it gave me the illusion I felt better because, of course, Igained weight and I got acne from all the sugar-”

He rubshis soft, brown skin and Shane feels something tug at his heart. Hereally wants to reach out and- He doesn’t even know, he wants tocomfort Ryan but isn’t sure how to, so he stays quiet.

“So Ifelt even worse which meant I ate more.”He sighs.

“Eventuallymy brother caught me. He didn’t tell my parents but he sat me downand told me I was clearly dealing with some shit that needed to beaddressed. And I just… kind of broke down? Everything I had triedto push away and not deal with and bury under the feeling of justeating and not dealing with feelings kind of… broke out. I’m nota quiet crier so, of course, my parents noticed.”

Ryansmiles sadly and Shane feels his eyes moisten as he sees the brokenexpression.

“Ryan-”He starts, but Ryan is already continuing.

“Itgot better after that. Wasn’t easy, of course, but I learned tocope differently. Talk about things that bothered me, got in touchwith… my feelings, I guess. But I kind of shied away from puddingdesserts and that stuff afterwards. Even ice cream is iffysometimes.”

Hemakes a face and looks around.

“Andyou know, I’m still not eating healthy. I’m still shoving way toomuch fast food in my face on Friday evenings and, you know, despiteall the jokes about me running around shirtless too much, I stilldon’t like to look at myself in the mirror on Friday night becauseI look stuffed and weirdly puffy and… gross, I don’t know. Ipicked up regular training and do what I can to keep the skinny fatto a minimum but when I don’t pay attention, I get self consciousand disgusted with myself. And then in a reaction to that, I try tobottle up my feelings which in return gets me to eatmy feelings again and I really try to avoid that.”

Hesmiles a bit.

“Iguess… the show helps in a way. And TestFriends helped. And socialmedia, too. When I keep having a camera on me, I can have an eye onmy body and the fear of ruining it completely kind of keeps me inline.”

Shanewinces. He feels miserable, because he doesn’t know how to help.

“I…Ryan first of all: I’m sorry I brought it up.”

Ryanwaves him off.

“It’sfine, you didn’t know. It didn’t… I don’t know, trigger anybad memories or anything. I just didn’t want to talk about it atwork.”

Shaneshifts in his seat again.

“Iknow. Thank you for telling me, anyway.” He looks at Ryan andsmiles hesitantly. It’s mirrored by Ryan. “I guess, I don’treally know… how to help you with it. But if you ever want to talkabout something, anything that bothers you… I’m here, okay? Youcan tell me anything and I promise I’ll be serious and not make anystupid jokes, okay?”

Ryannods.

“Okay.Thank you.”

“Ofcourse.”

Shaneleans closer and opens his arms hesitantly and he feels a rush ofrelief when Ryan closes the distance and hugs him. Shane rubs Ryan’sback. The position they are in is a little awkward, but he doesn’tcare. He feels still helpless, but a little less terrible thanbefore.

Whenthey part, he catches Ryan rub his eyes for a moment, but he doesn’tmention it.

“Forthe record, I always think you look pretty hot. And I know thatprobably doesn’t help with your own image but… I know many peoplethink that.”

Ryanlaughs and shakes his head.

“Shutup, Shane.”

“No,really! There is a whole … what do they call it… “thirst tag”about you on social media. They call it Berg-arm-ra, because ofthese.”

Hepats Ryan’s bicep and Ryan throws his head back and laughs. Shanegrins, happy that he can atleast do this for Ryan. If all he can do to help is occasionally makehim burst into a full bodied laugh, then that’s what he will do.

-

It’snot until a couple of months later, when Ryan kisses him for thefirst time in the safety of Shane’s kitchen, that he realizes theyhave a bigger impact on each other than just jokes and movie nights. Andeven though he knows, he can’t fix Ryan’s problems or take theissues off of his back, as much as he wants to, he makes a point of peppering kisses all overthat beautiful face and body whenever he gets the chance to. Ryan might not always think of himself as beautiful or handsome, but Shane promises to remind him whenever Ryan needs him to.

[punkscrunchies]

-letsbefriends-

reblogged your post and added:

???? Trouble following that first bit..idk why...

for some reason i cant reblog this and explain bc tumblr’s code is fucking up again so i have to do it in replies

i understand why this may have caused confusion. and this honest to god is not an attack on trans/ace people/pan people. this is more of a “me venting post.” my younger brother (he’s trans, still getting used to that :/) is friends with a girl who has like...a twenty syllable word for her sexuality and she’s only 12/13.

ALSO:

fun fact - being trans IS actually caused by a physical trait! i believe it’s a mix-up of chemicals or signals in the brain. i understand how not knowing this could have caused a mix-up.

my referral to pan people was...rude. my point that came out was NOT the one i had in my head. my apologies. (i think it was 2am when i posted it so that may explain a few things) WHAT I MEANT was that people like to say being “pan” and being “bi” are ‘so different!’ but the fact is that, when it comes down to it, you’re attracted to dick and vagina with both of them. i dont at all understand why there has to be two terms for this, but okay. i’m not going to rant at you about this if you tell me that you’re pan - i wrote this as an explanation.

also the ‘dick and vagina’ thing brings me to the general point of the post itself. WHAT I MEANT in it was that, yes, i am fucking sick of the LGBT+ acronym going from LGBTQIA+ (which was probably the most letters i can accept) to LGBTKAJWJBOCKJABLIGB+. my problem is that people want to describe their sexualities in terms of being gender-inclusive but that’s not how sexuality works. sexuality is what you are automatically attracted to. It’s a deep psychological thing and a biologically female lesbian is not going to look at a biologically male who identifies as female (and hasnt started/taken hormones) across the room and want to sleep with her. that’s not because she’s transphobic - it’s because sexuality is not gender fucking inclusive. i know lesbians have been in relationships with mtf people before, but the attraction, that moment where you look at someone and think “i’d hit that” usually happens after that person has been taking hormones for a while.

 why? she identified as female, right?

because a lesbian is a woman who is attracted to female physical/sexual features. that is how sexuality works.

my problem, therefore, is that tumblr has created this LGBT+ society where everyone has to have a super-specific label to describe them - the girl i was talking about before was attracted to “everybody but biologically female people.” so shes straight, fuckin hetero. the point of a label on sexuality is for two reasons:

1. for scientific research/classification

2. as a general description in order for you to find people who share similar experiences with you (the point of the LGBT+ community)

labels are meant as general descriptors for what is biologically not straight/cis. not what is the most gender-inclusive label you can stick on. L - attracted to female traits. G - attracted to male traits (assuming that G=only homosexual males). B/P - attracted to female and male traits. T - having a difference in make-up of the brain that causes you to feel dysphoria and dysmorphia in your own body. + - ace; agender/etc. You dont need a label to be SPECIFIC, you need it to be general so you dont have to explain your sexuality. God, i have to explain what me being bisexual (and very rarely agender since im not open about it) enough - why would you want to be anything more ridiculous??

here’s a quote from a blog i found:

“Straight girls on tumblr have an annoying problem with inventing sexual orientations so they can feel more oppressed than they actually are. Because what it comes down to is most of them are some sort of boring, every day sexuality (usually hetero) they [sic] have to tack on other words to define themselves and confuse people into thinking they are oppressed... What it boils down to is basically 99% of these...people with weird sexual orientations that they completely made up, are actually...straight girls who are pissed off that they aren't special snowflake enough to qualify for minority status. What they do instead is created sexual identities that no one has ever fucking heard of, that they will never use in real life, and then sit on the internet pretending that life is SO HARD for someone with a sexual orientation that is actually just a personal preference they have when trying to find a mate. All of this is a slap in the face to actual people who are actually in the LGBTQ community because what it does it make the universe less likely to take real issues seriously. ”

Another interesting quote from the same post:

“This sexuality (which by the way was completely 100% invented for a roleplaying game back in the early 2000's)” - in reference to demisexuality.

that’s basically my problem summed up, except incorporating ridiculous genders in too. 

i really don’t think i can go past that in terms of an explanation so. there we go. i guess i could say that, to me, some of these gender identities (some, not all) and sexuality labels (again, some, not all) are on the same level as “identifying” as a race/ethnicity.

anyway i hope this helped. i really dont mean to be offensive, it was a vent post. my problem is not that im being transphobic or whatever phobic we’ve invented this week (let’s not bring up aphobia). it’s that young girls want attention and they’ve come here to get it. it’s a slap in the face after leelah alcorn especially.

also, possibly different issue somewhat related here, but my school’s LGBT+ club has turned into an anime club. so not to stereotype but...there’s a type of people who like. make up this shit.

also, another possibly different issue somewhat related here - my school has had to get a doctor’s certificate for gender dysmorphia and gender dysphoria because the counsellors cant deal with the amount of people identifying as some form of gender identity (especially trans - they like playing with cars and suddenly theyre a different gender!!!!) for attention (theyre all under the age of 15 btw).

okay. i still dont know why i couldnt reblog this from you or message you but. here we are. bye. hope you have a nice day. didnt and dont mean to offend