#and that i never have to deal with PMDD again

[neuromantis]

um yeah. sorry.

at this point i am pretty sure i have pmdd. and you know what fucking sucks? getting your period regularly AFTER you starved off 12 kilos of yourself to not have it anymore ever (in part)

and you know wht reaalyy fucking sucks?? getting pmdd when you ALREADY have a disorder that already gives you psychosis/depression/dysphoria cocktail sometimes. realizing that now this bullshit is going to happen ON CUE. every fucking month.

and i hope. i really hope one time it fucks me up enough that i actually go to an obgyn for the first time in like a decade. and there's a pretty good reason why i never went back. 1. trauma. 2. they are absolutely fucking hopeless in this country. like you think you saw misogyny? try russian obgyns. they will straight up torture you and then suggest nothing and then prescribe even more torture perhaps. or to get pregnant (worse than torture arguably) and it will all go away supposedly.

[folkwhorerain]

Just like clockwork.

Sam Carpenter x afab!Reader

gif not mine.

summary: Sam proves you that you don't have to face everything alone.

warnings: description of PMDD symptoms, depression, mood swings, insecure reader, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, bad writing (english is not my first language). Feel free to tell me if I should add more!

(Maybe a little out of character for Sam, but I needed to write this for my own benefit.)

author's note: I got diagnosed with premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) two weeks ago and I did not take it well at all. I just had another PMDD episode and it was really bad, so I wanted to write something to get it out my chest and since Sam is my current comfort character I wanted to write a ff about her comforting reader.

Please remember that this is based on my experience with this disorder and I do not intend to make anyone feel uncomfortable.

Enjoy!

It hit you suddenly.

You were fine days ago until you weren't.

It intoxicated your brain without you noticing. You just thought you were being overdramatic as always but, like it happened almost every month just like clockwork, your mind proved you wrong.

It started with a numb sensation on your legs and an inexplicable fatigue, after a few days you started sleeping excessively and leaving the bed was more and more difficult everytime the blanket rocked you in its embrace.

Next you began feeling that heaviness inside your chest that haunted you just six or five days before your menstruation started. Again, just like clockwork. It doesn't happen every, single month but when it does, it's tough dealing with all the symptoms that accompany it.

"Shit." You whispered at the realisation that your PMDD was at its peak again. You will never get used to it. Everytime your period passed you mentally mocked at how much you overreacted, gaslighting yourself into believing that you were just being dramatic and that your disorder wasn't real, which it was actually. It was very real. You just needed to get into the next wave of depression to realise it, just to curse yourself for being so dramatic when your period passed again. It was a cycle you couldn't break.

As it always happened during these excruciating days, you were lying in bed with a urge to cry and a fatigue that came out of nowhere. You knew your symptoms would disappear as soon as your period started, but right now you just let yourself go at the inevitable sensations your disorder provoked you.

Your friends noticed you were detached from them and everytime they would offer you to spend time together or watch a movie, you would always refuse, taking a snack from the kitchen and heading immediately to your room, leaving your friends with a confused look.

You weren't ready for people to know about your disorder, so you only told your favorite sisters and Quinn since she's so nosy that she eventually figured out something was wrong.

"Is Y/N okay?" Chad asked with a hint of concerne in his voice and Tara attached to his sleeve. "She hasn't come out of her room for the past two days."

"I hope it has nothing to do with us," Mindy joked with her mouth full of food. Anika was at her side, stealing some chips from her girlfriend, who was too busy looking at Sam for some sort of explanation to notice. "We're good company, so that would offend me."

Tara looked at Sam with a knowing look. Her face held the same concern as the rest of the group and it only worsened when Sam stayed quiet, too lost looking at the calendar app.

Like the good girlfriend she is, she tracked your period just in case you needed extra help with your PMDD, so when the phone in her hands gave her the confirmation you were about to get your period, she immediately knew what was wrong and it almost annoyed her you didn't tell her like you promised to.

You were never one to ask for help or even talk about your feelings. You would rather walk on lava than saying something was bothering you, and Sam understood that. She was never open about her feelings herself and just suck them up until they didn't bother her anymore or she learnt to live with them. But when it comes to you and your health, it's different so she stood up from the couch of the apartment you, Quinn, Tara and Sam shared and walked towards her room which was now yours as well since Quinn moved in with you and took your old room. Not that you spent a lot of time in it anyway. You were always with Sam and most of your stuff was already in her room anyways.

"Y/N?" You heard Sam crack open the door and slowly walk towards the bed. You had your back to her, body fully covered by your weighted blanket. You stayed still. Hopefully she wouldn't hear you cry and just leave you be.

When you didn't answer the brunette thought you were asleep and contemplated if leaving was the best decision, but when she heard a sob escape your mouth (much to your dismay), she climbed into the bed and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, it's that bad again, isn't it?" She asked sympathetically as she stroked your back slowly. Her heart sank knowing you were feeling like this again and you decided to deal with it all alone.

You turned to look at her with red, puffy eyes. It took you a while to nod your head yes, not wanting to bother her with something that was only your problem and would probably just drag her into your spiral of sadness. But hiding was no use, it was clear as the sun that you were feeling shitty. "I wanna be alone, though."

Sam sighed quitely and squeezed your shoulder. "Don't push me away, Y/N, please. I'm not leaving you. I just wanna help."

You usually loved how she knew you like the palm of her hand, but as of right now it just annoyed you and it took all the strength you had in your already aching body to not snap at her. Therefore you took a deep breath and gave yourself some time before saying something you would regret. You weren't even angry at Sam. You didn't know what you were so angry about. You just were. You always felt like you were on the verge of exploding.

"I just–" you couldn't finish your sentence as you covered your eyes with both your hands and let out an annoyed groan.

Sam frowned sympathetically, both of her hands gripping gently your wrists in an attempt to not let you hide your feelings from her, no matter how bad they were. But you were persistent and there was no way you would've let her see you this way, so your hands didn't move. Not even a inch.

Sam took a deep, shaky breath as she thought about what could make you feel better. Keeping her composure was hard in a situation like this, but she knew it wasn't easy for you first. After all, it was you who had to deal with it in the first place.

You uncovered your eyes when you felt the weight on the bed was gone and your girlfriend had disappeared.

You pouted and tears started streaming down your face again, both from sadness and anger towards yourself. You couldn't believe you felt sad she left when you were the one who told her to leave you alone in the first place.

"Why do I have to be like this?" You whispered as you pulled yourself up and sit on the bed, throwing your phone on the bedside with too much force.

You hated it. You couldn't believe you had to feel like this because of something so… natural. Periods should be associated with life and birth. Hell, in some historic culture a menstruating person was considered sacred, you couldn't believe you had to deal with it in such a painful way.

You can't even say you couldn't wait for your period to start, because once you start bleeding, your ovaries feels like they're being stabbed over and over again.

Mentally excruciating PMS and painful menstruation. Great combo.

After a few minutes you heard the door open again and your girlfriend was standing there with a tiny smile and a glass of water accompanied by some snacks in her hands.

Your gaze softened at the sight and you wondered how could someone like you ever deserve someone as caring as Sam Carpenter.

"I know you forgot to take your meds, so here…" She cooed as she gave you the glass and your pills, which you gladly took but not before smiling appreciatively at the brunette. "I understand you want to be left alone and I accept it, but I just want to be with you throughout all of this. Please, let me take care of you."

"Sam–"

"We don't have to talk. We can just stay here and exist together." She was standing in front of you with a hopeful expression, waiting for you to give her permission to stay.

You took a few moments to think about it and meanwhile you got lost in the sight before you.

She had bags under eyes due to the tiredness two shitty jobs can give you and her usual jeans and sweater were replaced with pajama shorts and a blue tank top you were sure she stole from you. You loved how her black locks were styled perfectly even after a six hour shift and her dark eyes glistened with hope.

You must look like shit compared to her, not having the strength to comb your hair or eat a proper meal. You were even surprised you menaged to take a shower and brush your teeth. You'd probably look at yourself with disgust if you had a mirror in front of you. No way someone else would look at you differently.

Yet there she was, still looking at you like you were her whole world and when she looked at you like that it was almost impossible to say no to her, so you smiled weakly and patted the place beside you on the bed.

She smiled widely before she sank into the bed, covering her body with your favorite blanket. "Do you want me to hug you or you don't feel comfortable being touched?"

You suddenly felt a urge to be comforted and held, so you took this opportunity before you felt the need to be alone again and welcomed her in your arms. She wrapped her arms around your body, legs now entangled with yours. Her left hand wiped away your tears and the other stroked your arm slowly.

Guilt made its way through your body and that painful weight in your chest became heavier.

You hated yourself for being such a burden.

You didn't want people to deal with you when you were at you lowest. If you could, you wouldn't even deal with it yourself. But it was your mind and body, so ignoring its needs was not an option. But your friends and family had the opportunity to leave, to tell you to fuck yourself when you'd yell at them without an apparent reason, yet they didn't. Even when you pushed them away just like you did an hour ago and they decided to spend time together anyway. Of course that made you silently sob as you saw they could live without you.

It wasn't fair to think like that, you knew. But it wasn't you who had control of your mind when your depression was at its peak, it was your disorder and you could not disobey its will. No matter how much it hurt you.

"I'm so pathetic." You whispered with eyes full of tears again. Your thoughts were the worst part of these episodes. The voices telling you that you're not enough were persevering and it was hard to not listen to them. "I'm sorry you have to endure all of my shit. I would leave if I was you."

"That's not true, Y/N. You know you don't really think that." She whispered softly, placing sweet kisses on the crown of your head. "You're not pathetic for feeling this way. You didn't choose it."

You stayed silent, feeling paralyzed. The only thing you did was hug her tightly and stroke her hip affectionately.

Sometimes it scares you how much she knows you and how you think.

"I'm here no matter what. You are not your disorder. I knew there were gonna be ups and downs when I chose you, but just like you knew it when you chose me." She stopped talking just to give a few kisses on your neck, easing a little bit of the tension you felt. "If we gotta be honest, I'm the daughter of a serial killer who almost got herself and her friends killed just because of that. If there's someone who should leave, that's you."

A weak chuckle escaped your mouth at that last phrase. You weren't gonna leave her for that. Hell, you would rather be attacked by Ghostface than leave your girlfriend.

It didn't matter what Sam did or who she was. You knew the real her and you thanked the universe everyday for being able to see parts of her she hardly showed to anyone else.

You knew how hard it was for her after Richie turned out to be Ghostface and she decided to move to a city where people saw him like the victim and her like the villain.

Trusting new people wasn't an option for her and you were no exception when you responded to the anonymous ad of when her and Tara were looking for a roommate.

The first time you met her it almost looked like you were being interrogated, but when you left aside the thought of how pretty she was and you recognised her as one of the survivors of the Woodsboro attack, you understood why.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt her lips on your shoulder, and when you turned your head slightly to look at her, you saw she was already staring at you with a glint in her eyes she reserved just for you. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

She bit your shoulder playfully at your comment making you crack a smile. "I love you."

"I love you, too Sam." And with that she gave the palm of your hand a kiss, next she shifted to your neck, your jaw and finally your lips.

You couldn't help but smile as you tried to ignore the heaviness you still felt in your chest.

It was hard dealing with you when you felt like this but, everytime you needed, Sam was there.

Just like clockwork.

That's all, people!

As usual, I hope you liked it.🫶🏻

If your PMS is so bad that it effects your daily activities, please talk to your doctor about it. It may be sign of PMDD or other premenstrual disorders.

Remember you are not alone and I'm always here if you need to talk.

I love you all. <3

[icedmetaltea]

Just lettin ya'll know I'm ok

(random irl stuff to journal below, keep scrollin)

Wanted to wait to come back till

1. I wasn't dealing with mega gender dysphoria, my masc/neutral days are few and far between but by god it's been nonstop masc/neutral days lately and been a lot of just hating my body (and myself in general)

2. got the ebt stuff figured out, which I haven't yet, my doc put in a ref for a different place to sign a thing, waited 2 weeks for them to call, only to find out it was the wrong place and now I have to wait for the next place to call... which like yea I'm worrying about food but talking about it in therapy has helped somewhat. She reassured me even if that doesn't work we WILL find some place that'll sign the form I need to be eligible again

3. I wasn't dealing with as bad of depression/anxiety which like... idk. I've definitely been doing better anxiety-wise but idk if that's bc it hasn't been as hot lately or I've been feeding myself better. I know I must've been eating under 1200s calories the past few weeks bc the scale finally stopped going down and I know for a fact my anxiety gets bad when I'm hungry so I think for about a month I was unintentionally starving myself, SO making myself eat at least 2 nutritious meals a day now

At the same time I think perhaps my pmdd symptoms are... reversing time schedules??? Usually my anxiety/depression gets way worse before period but now it seems like it's fine before and terrible during/after????? Makes zero sense but who knows. Also it's a couple days late now so health anxiety is going off the shits about PCOS or something again UGH

Making SOME progress with therapy, am able to be outside for 5 mins without feeling that horrific sense of dread so that's something.

I've also been coming to the realization that I may have some form of DID?? Not the type where you lose time/blackout/completely have entirely different memories and starkly different personality switches but I've definitely been noticing now that I've been putting more attention to it how I go into different "modes" and sets of interests throughout the weeks and I mean... it's not secret I have imaginary friends I talk to on the daily. I've had an issue figuring out where "they" end and "myself" begins since childhood. Plus I already deal with derealization/dissociation/occasional age regression so it's not out of the realm of possibility. May bring it up next therapy apt. Kinda worried to bc I never want to get rid of them and I'm worried that would be one of the goals, like... just no. I can't think of anything more lonely.

But yea just random stuff I needed to get outta my system, sorry about all the suicidal stuff, it's just really hard. The future seems so bleak. And if one thing sets me back, like doctor stuff, food issues, etc my brain is like "DEATH WOULD BE EASIER LOL" BUT there's a chance trump/a republican candidate won't win, a chance climate change will be reversed/humanity will adapt somehow, a chance I'll be accepted for disability and live a halfway decent life, and if not... well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But for now there's food in the fridge, for now mom and dad are alive, for now we're ok.

[bonnie-brady-is-writing]

T.W. sucideal ideation, depression.

PMDD is a monster I know closely.

When I was a teenager it used to be 3 days before, but now they arrive a week/10 days exactly before my period and tries its best to ruin all of me. The lies are so believable; I am unworthy, unlovable, disgusting, I shouldnt be alive and everything I have done and will do is trash.

It's such a vicious cycle of being okay, having things on track then your hormones running in and ruining all of your progress leaving you confused and lost again.

My main syptoms are recklessness, impulsivity, depression, sucideal thougts, low confidence, crying attacks etc.

I would genuinely rather have really heavy periods then PMDD.

Yes this illness has also cost me a job once and when I got my period I realised what I had done and felt so incredibly stupid for acting so impulsive over something that wasnt a big deal after all. But how could I have told my boss "Yeah actulley sorry that I quit my job it was just my period coming."

Stigma and shame revoled around it should not exist. I understand now that this is a disability; you are trapped under the weight of PMDD.

I know how hard and how unbearable it can be. Personally I think there should be more to treat it with then just basic birth control but of course we live on planet earth where everything has a solution except the issues women and people with uteruses have to put up with their bodies turning agasint them.

I've noticed that if everything in my life is going well then there are weeks where I can keep that horrid bubbling sensation under control, by letting myself know I am in that PMDD danger zone. Recently I have begun to take Ashwaganda and I feel like thats helping me a little. Doing what you really enjoy (for me its making music) really helps too. But I know its easier said than done when PMDD sucks the energy out of everything.

Anyone dealing with PMDD you are never alone. Do not believe the lies it tells you. You need to be alive, here with us now.

[cookinguptales]

frank discussion of gynecological issues and frustrations with OBGYNs (especially re: chronic illness) under the cut, but I guess also potentially useful information for people who want to hear about it

so... some of you might remember when I was going to OGBYNs a little while ago. I have endometriosis and PMDD diagnoses, so going to OBGYNs isn't exactly unusual for me, but I ended up going to see more than I usually do.

this was largely because the hormonal therapy that I was taking for those disorders was starting to fail and I was bleeding a lot. like... for weeks at a time over a period of months. I had to deal with some... frustrating OBGYN advice in this time (such as the rage-inducing "well, women have to bleed") but I also discovered that like... I mean, I think I always knew that I had more vaginal pain than other people I know, but a lot of things hurt me so I just kind of... ignored it?

but they tried to put me on the nuva ring for a little while during this period and my body just... straight-up rejected it. it hurt like a bitch to put in, it kept coming out, I could feel it in there and it hurt, etc.

I ended up comparing notes with some other people I know and realized that my problems with insertion were probably more severe than I'd thought. like, it is not unusual for me to cry during pap smears and have cramping for days afterward. I cannot use tampons without massive pain. your body is not really supposed to physically expel something like a nuva ring several times a day. tmi I guess but I have not found penetration of any kind pleasant.

so I talked to... I want to say four or five different OBGYNs in this period, and none of them gave me a real reason for this. the prevailing attitude was mostly "oh yeah, that happens sometimes. lmao."

the best I could get was a diagnosis of "vaginismus" on my chart, and when I pressed for more information, they basically told me it was a psychological thing where your body is afraid of penetration so it clenches up and won't unclench. they literally grilled me on my history of sexual abuse to see if they could find the source of my dick phobia.

now... not to get too into it, but I do have a history of CSA -- but my pain problems predate it. I got my period relatively early and I've never been able to use tampons or anything like them. every time I've tried has ended in literal tears. again, cramping pain for days, even after the period itself has stopped.

so I get the dick phobia diagnosis from two different doctors, but one of them says she can do a transvaginal ultrasound if I'm really worried. we do this and it is uh. excruciating, honestly. thank god it was in California and they let me get high as a kite.

in the end, they can't find anything "physically" wrong with why I'm in pain and they send me on my way, dick phobia dx in hand.

today. today. YEARS later. I am googling tips on how to try a menstrual cup if you have vaginismus (prep for the trip abroad; I don't like Japanese pads) and I see someone saying "oh, I'm glad that treatment worked for you, my problems are because of ehlers-danlos syndrome."

you know, one of the chronic illnesses I have and one that I divulged to every OBGYN I saw.

what.

paging Dr. Google!!!

I come to find out that folks that have EDS, because of their connective tissue issues and extremely brittle skin, sometimes deal with extreme gynecological pain. it's partially pelvic floor issues, partially the fact that the skin in your vagina is breaking.

so all those times that I said "it feels like it's cutting me" or "it feels like knives" were probably because it was fucking cutting me. all those times I said I felt scraped raw for days was probably because abrasions take a long time to heal when you have EDS.

I cannot believe. I cannot believe. that I went into so many different OBGYNs who told me that my pain issues were because I had a psychological fear of dicks and when I told them I was a lesbian were like "oh well then problem solved" when actually my body was physically tearing. I had even seen blood sometimes and it had always been dismissed as spotting.

the anger I feel rn is indescribable, tbh. I never bought that my problems were all in my head (probably because doctors used that line on me so often when I was a kid and getting other chronic illnesses diagnosed) but the fact that gynecological health science is still so fucking awful that we shrug off pain that is the symptom of dangerous chronic illnesses as "well that happens sometimes" or "have you considered that maybe you're afraid of sex?"

I JUST

this reminds me of when I had to find out from a fucking tumblr post that vaginal secretions are made from blood rather than glands, so if you have bad blood pressure/flow it'll often cause itchiness/dryness/pain. bad blood flow like... idk... maybe POTS.

so again, it was actually one of my known chronic illnesses causing gynecological issues, not any of the other bullshit reasons doctors were giving me, like age or stress.

I hate that I'm fucking 33 years old and I still have to learn stuff like this from google searches. I still don't know how my shitty body works, and it's largely because of stuff like this. what the fuck. I'm so mad. why do doctors still treat vaginas like a fucking scary mystery?

I'm well aware that Dr. Google doesn't always know what the fuck it's talking about, but apparently neither do my doctors! which is why, yet again, I'm up all night reading medical journals in the vain attempt to figure out how to actually live my life!

ugh!!!

[yakultii]

done for the semester :)) I want to die bc I ruined my sleep schedule (again) only to submit a barely (hopefully) passable piece that I pulled out of my ass that doesn’t even meet the minimum requirements (bc I didn’t bother to learn anything from this unit the whole sem so that’s on me) and is gonna fuck up my entire overall wam(gpa) bc it’s so heavily weighted combined w the fact I have deprived myself of my basic human needs and am now dehydrated as fuck and also dealing w pmdd but luckily my younger brother is coming to visit in a few days cos we are going to a fun footy game and a few other plans so I cannot spiral :))) pls June let me stay sane pls I beg of u and July (it never happens but I have faith it’ll be okay) pls manifest that my marker is actually feeling nice (he’s the harshest marker I’ve ever had) and lets this one slide bc I’m quite literally never doing this kind of unit ever again :)))

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Decided to watch the Emmerdale episode...

Imagine how much more impactful all of this would be if these teens were actually developed as real characters. Now yes, Cathy has been more. We've seen her bully April and have crushes on older boys and have her messy pmdd story. So she has a sort of character. Not a very likable one but sure. But Heath and Angelica? These kids are less than nothing other than that Heath played the guitar and was Cathy's twin. Angelica is even worse.

Heath was in 29 episodes this year. Mostly showing up as a background character in Cathy's story or I guess being there in the lead up to this. In past years his stats are 2019 - 8 episodes, 2020 - 3 episodes, 2021 - 21 episodes, 2022 - 8 episodes. That's just not enough to build a character in any way.

Angelica was in 15 episodes in 2023. Her stats for past years, 2019 - 24 episodes, 2020 - 4 episodes, 2021 - 6 episodes, 2022 - 6 episodes. Again, not enough to even slightly build her character.

If they want us to care about these teen characters, they have to try harder and give them actual screen time now and then. And sure, they could use this story to finally develop Angelica's character and build on Cathy's character more. But I sort of feel like this is going to end up being an exit story for Cathy. I guess she could be more serious about acting than her brother and want to stay but I just kind of see them as a set so I feel like she might just end up in prison for reckless driving and manslaughter or something.

Speaking of which, if I was actually watching regularly, I would be dreading listening to all of these people dealing with Heath's death, especially since they never made even an ounce of effort to make me care about Heath or his relationships with any of these people.

Also, I'm sure Angelica will barely feature yet again.

Prove me wrong Emmerdale!

As for the rest of the episode....

Aaron and Mack stealing cars is already boring.

The party scenes were pretty manic, but I guess that was to contrast the tragedy. Still, it was kind of nice to see bigger gatherings of characters with extras. In a post covid soap world, that's still a rarity.

I wish Belle and Tom were just going to get to be happy and they weren't doing this engagement just to make the inevitable domestic abuse story more tragic.

I still fail to understand why they did any of this with Amit. Unless there's more to his involvement in Rishi's death, what is even the point of any of this??

Always having to drag Ryan into the pub so four people can wish him happy birthday always just feels so pathetic. I once again really wish they had never made him a secret Dingle.

This Tracy/Caleb affair continues to be the worst because they absolutely refuse to give me a reason why these people actually might want each other. Or even what Tracy and Nate's supposed "blip" could even be about.

Slightly intrigued by the idea of Mary and Suzy. At least that's a relationship that we've actually seen develop. And I'd rather that than her getting back with Vanessa when she returns.

I don't know that I particularly care about Baby Ivy other than that I wish they'd just call her Ivy instead of "little Ivy" all the time. It's annoying. Also, eventually Rhona and Marlon are just going to end up raising her anyway so let's get on with it.

Overall, not a terrible episode but could have been soooo much better if these producers didn't suck.

[autumnbell32]

1/15/24 at 1225: I'm Scared, and I Want to Remember This Feeling

There are ugly sides to this chronic, severe mental illness- things that happen in dark, isolated rooms amongst body odor and empty food cartons- that I'm not going to avoid sharing because that doesn't help anyone. This disease puts its sufferers in a damp, lonely, sticky place. Friends, this is the most unhealthy I have ever been, regardless of the fact that my therapist says I'm still making progress. I'm on three medications- one an antipsychotic (never wanted to deal with the neurological and metabolic side effects of those again) and I'm still about 60 pounds heavier than my normal weight. I binge to numb the emotional pain and feelings of loss (I've only had rare instances of depression actually decreasing my appetite and causing weight loss). I'm 38, diabetes, high blood pressure and heart disease run in my family, and my health just isn't going to hold up against this illness anymore (I'm really worried the damage is already done). I have a past history of being somewhat fit and active, but now I feel as if I have betrayed my body more than it is willing to accept. I'm scared and I want to remember this feeling.

I see a gynecologist who treats PMDD tomorrow morning and am begging the universe for some relief because I really can't keep weathering these cycles on my own anymore- my sails are full of holes. Remove one stone, protect my health for a little longer, so that I can continue to be strong enough to come out the other side of this. I am determined that my life will be better by the fall. I've already put some plans in place and am just hoping that it isn't too late for me.

Yesterday I left my apartment for a while. I needed cat food and litter, and was starting to feel stir crazy behind these walls (the drywall type and the type that depression builds). It took a bit of time to get the snow and ice off of my car- the temperature was about -20 F with windchill, so I was worried about frostbite since my circulation sucks. It sucks even more after all of the weight gain. I finished my errands but got stuck in the snow at an intersection, though two gentlemen were kind enough to push my car out. Then, when I arrived back home, the smartlock on my apartment door had jammed from the cold. I was locked out of my apartment, cat food and litter and coffee and charger cord in my arms, and had to call maintenance. The poor guy said these type of locks only belong in warmer environments and he had been up since the predawn hours fixing jammed smartlocks in the bitter cold. Even though I waited in my running car, legs hanging down and resting on heels, my feet went numb- specifically the heels. I didn't regain feeling in them for over 30 minutes. In a dumb panic, I kept rubbing them, pressing them into the floor, and rested them on a heating pad. Today they are sore, probably from me constantly pushing on them, but that scares me. The skin looks fine, feeling has completely returned, and I can discern light touch. I hear my body's messages, telling me that my health is fading behind this illness.

[amistytown]

I’m going to let my feelings out because I’m overwhelmed with them, and I don’t know what to do.

Mentions of depression, anxiety, body issues, and disordered eating.

Seasonal depression is definitely hitting me hard. It’s nothing new. It feels like I have constant pmdd. Everything is terrible, and it’s difficult to think positively. I hate whining and spreading negativity, but it’s like I’m constantly warring with myself right now. I want to say it’s all in my head, but it’s easy to believe the worst :(

I was proud of myself for being able to work again after having such a difficult battle with anxiety. It made me feel very positively about my situation. Now I’m tired of walking and taking the bus and not being able to buy a car. Working part time and being paid so little is stressful. I’m afraid I’ll never have that 9-5 Monday to Friday office job I’ve always wanted. That I’ll never make enough to buy my own place again and take care of myself financially. I want it so bad, and I keep worrying I’m not good enough. I don’t have the personality or the smarts. I want to go back to school, but finances are, again, the issue. I don’t know what to do. I wish I could make a living off my writing or art, but I feel mediocre at best, and I know it’s not a realistic goal. I do like working at Barnes and Noble. I just wish I made a living wage.

I already have self-confidence issues. I’m trying to overcome them, but I’m dealing with years of trauma that have destroyed whatever confidence I had. I really want friends. I’d love a romantic partner one day. It seems impossible to me. I’m terrible at holding a conversation. I try so hard but people lose interest, and then I’m too afraid to keep trying. I know everyone is different, and I need to work on myself. I still have these moments where I doubt myself though, and it’s been worse during this depressive episode. I feel like I have nothing to offer, and if I deleted myself no one would care. I don’t want to die. It just makes me sad. I want to fit in. I hate feeling so alien. I know it’s partially my fault. I’m just so scared of being rejected again. I showed every part of myself to someone and it hurt so much when they tossed me aside like trash. The person I trusted and considered my best friend. And not because I think those around me are bad people, but because I feel like garbage who doesn’t deserve their friendship.

I’ve met a lot of amazing people too. I’m just constantly down on myself right now and talking has been difficult because of the way I view myself.

And I have all these thoughts in my head. They are crushing me right now. I want to talk to people about it, but I feel like an annoyance. I don’t want to bring people down with me. I don’t want to be a toxic person. I hate talking about myself. I always feel guilty. I should be stronger. I should be able to think positively and pull myself out of this hole. I don’t feel like a good friend or person. Then I want to isolate myself because I think I’m doing everyone else a favor. It’s so confusing.

I also haven’t talked about it here, but I have body dysmorphia, and it’s been a struggle. I restrict myself and I feel so bad about myself right now because I’m more hungry since I started working. It’s a physical job and I’m walking a lot so I need more calories, but if I eat more than usual I feel horrible. I will cry. The holidays are so bad because there’s so much more food. I want to enjoy it, but I get so stressed out after. All I’ve had to eat today is a blueberry muffin and I’m freaking out.

I have so many issues I just feel like a waste of everyone’s time. I wish I wasn’t like this. I’m broken, and I just want to be someone people like and bring happiness to them. I want to be accepted but I don’t want to put that on anyone either.

Sorry for ranting. It’s like everything is hitting me at once. Being treated poorly at work by customers isn’t helping either. Thanks to anyone who read this. I appreciate it.

[vizthedatum]

CW: domestic violence, addiction, trans stuff, body transition things, mental health, all the health, beautiful friends

This photo was taken 11:39 PM EST on the night of Dec 10th, 2022. I got keys to my new place on the 8th, moved in on the 9th, and then proceeded to have one of the better nights of sleep I had had for quite some time. This was such a huge deal because I haven’t had an actual restful night’s sleep in probably months. I also have many periods of insomnia due to my PMDD (if you think my PMDD or related issues are causing these emotional outbursts (it’s not scary to have big feelings by the way), then I will have you know that my ex/spouse weaponized my conditions to me to shut me up. I am actually quite positive that I have a better handle on my healthcare and spirituality than most of the people who are reading this even tho all of that is a life long journey) and my PTSD.

I woke up and did an AMAZING makeup and outfit look. I sent it to so many people. I felt powerful. I found a bra I forgot I had but that I loved. I wore it and kept imagining myself with my breasts completely bound or completely removed while wearing it. I want it all, you know. I want to be able to remove and attach them as I see fit. I think, my current thought is that I would like a complete mastectomy or enough of a reduction so I can bind to be completely flat. I have grand plans for all this after I have a baby on my own, of course.

December 10th was surreal. I went to work, and I was Rose to so many people who had never known me as anyone else. My body finally had some peace and rest from being in a home that was actually mine. And while I was at work, my friends had brilliantly, with incredible kindness, organized a network of people to help donate furniture AND move it all in for me. I was so humbled. I kept trying to internalize that I wasn’t taking advantage even though I felt that I was. K et al., you really did save me. K, you are beautiful, tenacious, stubborn, angry, fiery, incredibly intelligent, lovely, absolutely beautiful, and thank you. I hope I can be a good friend to you.

After work, I visited a friend who needed and needs far more help than I ever did. Someone who my ex ALSO cruelly (and out of self-harm) fucked up by the way. I love her so much. She’s burned so many bridges in the city. It felt right to help her even though my body felt like it was melting from the inside even though I could handle it and keep going on. After all, leaving my situation dramatically reduced my mental load and stress to the point where I started becoming physically stronger again. Can’t you see? I look completely different now.

The mutual aid that we provide to each other even in times of crisis is absolutely powerful. I will always love her - even if I need to have strict boundaries with her.

She and I held each other while we both got misgendered by a man who thought he knew better than us. It was amusing, but it didn’t matter. His perceptions can’t take away who we are and the love/friendship we share.

She needs help. She’s in rehab now, and I don’t know if this will be the last time. I don’t know if she will quit. It doesn’t matter. It’s gone on too long - and I know that we have all been broken and caught up in all of our shit, but so many of us have given up on her because we didn’t know how to help (or even had the capacity to). That’s a shame. Can’t you hear her heart screaming? I always have.

I need to call her today, and please let me know if you want to send her a card or anything. We might be moving her someplace else soon.

I came home after dropping her off, and I sobbed. I incoherently rambled in a voice message to my friends to tell them how I felt. My apartment was and is beautiful. Even though so much of the items weren’t *mine* - they were already a part of me because the people who helped me were a part of me. It felt right and magical. And then sometime afterwards, I took this picture.

And yeah - I look great here, don’t you think?

I look even better now by the way - every single day, I look better.

[thedrowsydoormouse]

Not to mention people with physical disabilities or chronic illnesses. I could shapeshift my uterus away and never have to deal with my PMDD ever again. If your apendix ruptures you can just shapeshift it away. Break a bone? Nope! Shapeshift! Food allergies? Shapeshift!

And think of the practical! You forget your coat when it’s cold out? Shapeshift into something with fur to keep you warm. Forgot your sunglasses? Shapeshift. Caught in a sudden downpour? Shapeshift! Late for a meeting or appointment or missed the bus? Shapeshift! The only limit would be your imagination!

WHAT IS THE FUCKING POINT

[corazondefae]

9-22-24: PMDD

I’m currently at work and it’s the best I’ve felt nearly all day. Not because of work, oh no, but because I know my shift is almost done and then I’ll get to see my husband again.

I had a huge breakdown yesterday due to my PMDD. It was just a lot of things piling up. The thing that really broke me was yet another negative pregnancy test.

It’s always been my dream to be parent. It’s the only consistent goal I’ve had in life and I truly believe I’m meant to be a parent. We haven’t been trying for long in the grand scheme of things but that negative just left me broken since I got a false positive the night before.

—-

It’s so difficult having PMDD because I only truly feel okay half of the month, every month. My symptoms begin around 2 weeks before my cycle and progressively get worse 4-8 days before hand.

This morning I woke up with a sense of fear, hopelessness, and despair I’ve never felt before. I know it’s because of my PMDD but it’s still terrifying to deal with at times. I get so irritable and angry that I just want to scream at random points of the day. I’m not usually an angry person.

Last night I started struggling with intrusive thoughts that I haven’t dealt with for a couple of years now.

I really wish hormones didn’t mess with my brain this way. I would say more about my night but I’m going to reserve it for my actual journal.

I’m so tired today. I want to fall asleep at work.

[autisticlee]

pretty sure I made a post about this before and maybe worded it better but I want to throw out a big text wall and just whine about gender stuff again with no editing so you get all the typos and bad grammar and stuff

sometimes I think about how my old friend group may have pushed me away because they decided i'm ~a big scary man~ or at least that's what the other guy in our group suggested once. when I was telling him I don't know why they uninvited only me from the group trip suddenly, since I never got a real answer, he said maybe they want "girl time" together and saw me as a man so i wasnt welcome and going to intrude. that's nkt fair, especially as someome who grew up exclusively friends with girls and never even truly identified as a man. only used he/him to test it out and make the gender police happy so I could get reproductive care i wanted but am not allowed if i use she/her or they/them. (though so i'm confused because the guy if our group couldn't afford to do the trip but they still said they wanted him to join but i was always left out if conversation about the trip i initially planned myself!) anyway, I transitioned for personal medical reasons (mainly I wanted those life-ruining female organs out because severe pmdd and every doctor I talked to acted like I was crazy saying it's not a real illness basically and they won't remove because you want to unless you're trans or about to die) so I had to go by he/him and change my name to a masc one and go on hormones to get the doctors and insurance to be happy. didn't have time to explore non binary genders. I finally got my surgery, nit long after the other guy in our gc. he was great help! I decided it was time to explore gender more since I'm not tied to needing to be masc anymore. didn't tell those friends yet because I was still figuring out which word and pronouns to use (ended on nonbinary). I was never very masc presenting though around them anyway and never called myself "man" ever. I didn't have words to describe it yet but it was obvious imo I wasn't "man." at one point not long before i was pushed out if the group, one girl in the chat called me a man or something, so I corrected her and said i'm actually nonbinary. she apologized and I said it's fine because i've been trying to figure it out and have now decided, so this is my coming out to the group chat. no one else responded. but even so, I expected them to have seen it? so I didn't connect that maybe they still insisted on seeing me as "man" based solely on pronouns I used and maybe that "threatened" them. because they're ciswomen and transmascs are "big scary men" even though i'm actually, under all the performative gender to get approved for surgery, more of a fem nonbinary. but they would have known/learned that if they had just kept their promise of the group trip and didn't hurt and betray me and push me out of the group without warning or reason!!!!!! I know they're bad friends. but they were so good up til that final few months where things went downhill and hostile towards me for no reason at all. sighs.

the point is, ciswomen really like to make anyone they perceived as slightly masc out the be the enemy when I also feel uncomfortable by most masc men and seek the comfort and companionship of femme people instead. so the fact that they disown me helps keep me in a very lonely position and perpetually "othered" which isn't fair. not sure how people feel about my more femme nonbinary presenting but I feel like the little bit of masc-ness I have due to being on hormones will keep me getting pushed out of femme spaces still. it's really an issue. trans women have it the worst and that really needs to stop! but if I want to be some silly little nonbinary aroace lesbian then what right do people have to push me out of the spaces I feel comfortable in? you feel uncomfortable? suck it up and deal with it! you have a space to be comfortable in and can go to the other side of it. you have no right to kick me out into the cold!

if I want to be an aroace nonbinary lesbian mingling with the femmes, I wont let you decide I belong with men just because I might have some "masc" features you dislike (I've had Experiences and it gives me a discomfort of most men in general. or at least makes me wary of them) it feel horrible when they decide I can't stand beside them. Just like a past friend that decided she's ending out friendship because "girls can't be friends with guys so we can't be friends anymore" which is gross. that mindset needs to end. WE NEED GENDER EQUALITY. everyone needs to be treated truly equally. it would be so easy if people jist stopped putting gender in boxes and acted normal. but society isn't ready for that. so I will keep getting gendered with shitty stereotypes depending on who is deciding and i'll never have am equal footing among the gender policing. ugh.

[feminonyma]

It's been a while since I've written. My secret, my haven, my graveyard of emotional rants. I'm glad to be reminded of this platform again. There's something so freeing about writing on the internet with no identity linked.

What triggered this? Well, it was actually reading my boyfriend's personal blog. I've known about it forever, of course, but never really looked at it myself. He shared a recipe with me this morning via his website and it prompted me to look at it. It made me emotional. All morning I was mad that he didn't take out the trash, or vacuum, or do the dishes. I felt my rage grow in a one-dimensional way. Seeing his inner thoughts, his personal diary, it made me realize that this was the reason I loved him. Not because he did chores. It was good to step back and truly remember that we are different, separate people with our own rich inner lives. It was so fun to see his writing voice, and see my name mentioned. How I was (and am) a part of this amazing person's life.

It doesn't help that I'm in the midst of PMDD. Will I ever get a diagnosis? Maybe it takes the right doctor. I've been filled with a contradiction of rage and blankness. With the immense responsibility of existing alongside the compulsory behavior to sit in bed, on my phone. It's frustrating. And my cycles feel like they're just getting longer. At some point I'll have to deal with this more head on. For now, I am thankful that my boyfriend's blog pulled me out of it for a second. And encouraged me to write myself.

It's been cloudy for weeks. That's been contributing to the melancholy as well. It's May, doesn't feel like it. I've been busy these past few months that I don't really know what to do with myself. No markets, no trips planned. Feeling a little aimless.

Work is boring. I don't feel motivated to try new things. My boss is always busy with her own life, doesn't seem to care what I'm doing as long as the job is done. I feel like I'm not appreciated enough. I'm definitely not getting paid enough. I've been at this company for too long.

There was a moment - earlier this year, maybe January - when I had the sudden bittersweet feeling that I had just experienced my last holiday season in Philly. I felt a surge of sadness, but then realized that my plan to go to grad school would actually give me one more Christmas here. Then immediate relief. Looking back, maybe I was already starting to let go at that point.

I've been interviewing for a job in San Francisco. At first, it was just a shot in the dark. Practice for the real thing. A "hey, why not?" and "let's see what happens." But as I get deeper into the process, and start to internally detach from my life here, it's becoming a more real possibility. Suddenly it feels like something I do really want. I had a dream last night that I was in California. When I see the clouds here, I think about the beautiful, sunny weather on the west coast. I can't help but feel like eternal sunshine would cure many of my problems.

Of course it's a big move. It's a big deal. Lots of logistical headaches. But if I think about it in a 21-year-old kinda way, it all doesn't seem so hard. Recently I heard someone say, "make the decision, and the universe will help you out." Is this that decision to make?

I've been latching onto the idea of grad school for so long. That was the plan: apply this year, go next year. It feels like a goal I've had for so long. But what if that goal was fueled by toxic thought loops? My insatiable drive to prove to everyone that I could do it, not matter what it did to me? Is this another instance of trying to do it all, sacrificing my mental health?

It's an ongoing battle: what I could be vs. what I should be. Who I think I am vs. who I actually am. I still want to be an Artist. But there's a whole other part of me that's a designer too. Maybe I need to find a different approach.

As for my current situation with my boyfriend, I need to remind myself that he is a whole person, not someone to solely make me happy or have sex with. He's right, this is not a situation to fix, it is a situation to work through. And it will be lifelong work. I'm surprised to see that a lot of the issues I have now are things I picked up on early in our relationship. Yet here we are, more than half a decade later, still together. Clearly we're doing something right.

But I can't help but think about what things could've been like if we did break up. Would I have found someone more suited to me? Would I have gone to grad school already? Guess it's impossible to know. Better not to dwell.

I love reading my past posts when I rediscover this outlet. It reminds me of the person I was, and how not much has changed. I'm grateful to see that I've escaped some bad situations. I'm grateful to see that I've grown.

Scattered through these posts, I've had a couple job changes and gained some weight. I'm happy with the job switch. Not with the weight gain. But I also have to remind myself that this is the healthiest my relationship with food has been. It just sucks to go through pictures of myself from 4, 5 years ago and see how much smaller I was. I guess the irony of that is that I did the same thing at that time. It's neverending.

Well, that's enough for now. See you when I remember you.

[alwaysinlimbo]

April 22nd, 2024

I have a couple things I feel the need to write about today. It's been a long and strange day honestly.

I stared listening to A Fine Frenzy again for the first time in a while. It got me thinking about my late middle school early high school days. Those days were difficult in their own ways but I miss how somewhat fearlessly I approached them. I was brave when I wanted to be.

I thought to myself "huh, maybe I'll start dressing a little twee inspired again just to bring inner kid me some joy." I feel like that era of myself was the last time I felt truly sure about myself and authentic. I miss that feeling.

Little me was just a kid trying to deal with trauma. Somedays I think about her and I want to cry. I want to sit with her and brush her hair, tell her that everything is going to be okay and work out exactly how it's supposed to. I want to tell her that hey, it's okay that she made some dumb mistakes. She once told everyone she knew fluent Swedish, and it was a complete lie, but she was trying to hard to be liked because it was so difficult to exist at the time. Her friends called her boring because she was so quiet. So she came up with little lies to make her more interesting.

Not to say that was right or anything, it was definitely a dumb thing to do, but in reality how many teenagers do that. I know plenty who did and it didn't cause any great deal of harm.

I had another realization today. When I was younger I had this idea drilled into my head that if you had nothing to hide than you didn't need privacy. My mother ready my diary once. I brushed it off because I though oh it doesn't matter if I don't have anything to hide. In reality, I didn't want to make her think I had something to hide, because then she wouldn't trust me. In reality, she broke my trust and disrespected my privacy. I wish I had realized that sooner, as it probably would've helped me in many other situations.

privacy is something everyone has a right to. It doesn't mean you're doing anything bad, or that you're keeping secrets from people. It means that sometimes you have things that you prefer to keep to yourself and THAT'S OKAY.

-------** if you're not a fan of talk of body image issues I'll ask you not to proceed**------

I also have some thoughts on body image that I think I need to write about. It's been on my mind for such a long time and maybe journaling will help that.

I've never had such trouble with body image...but maybe that's because I was always small and horribly thin...I was always "the little one" growing up. Then all of a sudden I was called "curvier" than my sister. Then, my mother started being more vocal about criticizing her body and those of others. Then I got diagnosed with IBS and PMDD and began experiencing chronic pain and bloating. And suddenly here I am, sitting in a random college building at 8:03pm on a Monday night, bloated and feeling horrible about my body and wanting to go home and crawl into my bed and never come back out.

it's very dramatic I know, sometimes my silly brain decides to have a flare for the dramatics. I promise though, I was never a theatre kid.

Last night in my dream, an old school mate of mine told me I had "put on some weight." I woke up feeling very weird. My OCD likes to tell me that I have a binge eating disorder and it's only a matter of time before I become horribly unhealthy.

My logical brain tries to tell me otherwise though. I often have to tell myself " you have a chronic, incurable digestive disorder and are also a woman with organs that need to be protected. it's okay that your tummy isn't perfectly flat."

Your thoughts create your reality. Last night I read the part in Dodie's book about skin picking, something I also struggle with, and I came across the quote:

"If you tell the world you're beautiful, it will believe you, and then you'll start believing it too."

And I plan to write that on every mirror in my room. I want to engrave it on my brain, inside my eyelids, stare at it all hours of the day until my stubborn brain is able to accept it. I want to live my life in this way. I just desire to be a person who exudes light. I want to exude love. I have grown up in fight or flight mode and I am tired. I am tired of feeling like no matter what I do, I will be the villain. I constantly feel as though I am somehow inherently evil.

I am not, and I never have been. I have just spoken up for myself and set boundaries over the years, and sometimes people do not like that. And when they especially don't like that, they make you out to be the villain. You will never be the protagonist in everyones book.

Those are my thoughts for the night. I'll do a separate post about some body image prompts. I enjoy journalling prompts, but this post is becoming quite long. purely organizational. Good night <3

[lunar-goodness]

This is gonna be a little too much information, if you don’t want to read about menstrual cycles or mental health issues scroll past this.

I got my first period when I was 15. I was so irritated because it was the week before a band trip to a water park and I was hoping it would be over before the trip because I cannot do tampons and wearing pads would limit how much I could do on the trip so of course it stopped the day after the trip. I then didn’t have another period until a whole year later. Since I was so irregular my mom eventually took me to the doctors to try and figure out what was going on/make sure nothing was wrong. At 17 I had had maybe 3 cycles in the 2 years since my first. The doctor (a man) who saw me, took a cursory glance at my chart and me and came to the conclusion that I needed to lose weight. He started me on a medication that was meant to jump start my period which then had me having a 3 month long bleed and then back to nothing for months to years on end. Then we moved so I never saw that doctor again and I turned 18 and decided to just ignore the issue entirely. Cut to 10 years later, I decided to start working out and trying to be healthier, not that I was living an entirely unhealthy lifestyle just not as good as I could have been. I lost about 30 pounds and started having regular periods. Along with those regular periods came PMDD making my depression and mood swings worse than they already were. To the point that I eventually had a mental breakdown and was sobbing on the couch telling my mom I just couldn’t stand feeling this way anymore, I didn’t know how I could go on and I needed help. And I just can’t help but think that this all may have gone the teensyiest bit better if that doctor hadn’t boiled down all my problems to “you’re fat” and told a 17 year old girl to just lose weight. If he had took the time to dig just the littlest bit deeper maybe I wouldn’t have suffered so much emotional turmoil over the past 15 years. I had been dealing with depression for years already before my first period, I hadn’t told anyone that I was having suicidal thoughts since I was 9 but that’s a whole different side to the story. I was failed by multiple people, but if just one person could have taken the time to pay attention maybe things would have turned out different. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯