#and what if it is just a flare up? I have to keep working I have to do my job I have to do chores I have to pack
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Could you write a (young)Silco/Disabled Reader, who for the most part is able to walk just fine with the help of a brace but on bad days they’ll bring out the cane and on really bad days a wheelchair but is still insistent on trying to do things no matter how much they shouldn’t?
I tried to be as sensitive as I could towards reader's disability. I hope it comes across sincere and that I haven't committed any faux pas. If I have, please let me know in the comments and I will happily revise. Like young Silco in this fic, I will quickly apologize and learn if given the opportunity.
A Voice Like Yours
Masterlist | AO3 link
Rating: Mature
Tags: gn!reader x silco; disabled reader; Silco; Felicia; Connol; Vander; Benzo; fluff; angst; hurt/comfort;
Word count: 3.5k
Beta reader: @juniper-sunny
You would've liked to get to the market sooner, but getting out of bed was particularly hard today. Typically, you're able to handle just fine with only your brace. And when that doesn't work, your cane will usually suffice. But with rough sleep last night and a flare-up this morning, you opt for using your chair today to get to the market. Just until you can get your bearings again.
With your later arrival, you're unable to beat the morning rush, sandwiched between what seems like every citizen of the Undercity. Most give you a wide berth, but others shove past you unceremoniously. You're used to it by now, but your fatigue plasters a permanent scowl on your face as you try to find your usual vendors.
As you make your way through your shopping list, the bag sitting on your lap getting slightly heavier with each new stall you visit, you feel a bit better. (You used to keep your bag slung over the back of your chair, but stopped when some asshole stole it.)
You're on the last item on your list when you get settled in front of one wooden stall and make small talk with the shopkeep. He greets you by name and grabs your usual order, setting it down on the counter before turning his back to fix something. You try to reach for your purchase, but it's just a touch too far. You're about to move your chair closer when a stranger waltzes up and plucks the bag off the counter.
“Hey! That's mine!” you protest, rolling closer to him.
“I know,” he replies, handing it to you. “I was just getting it for you.”
You snatch it and shove it into your canvas bag, still frowning at the tall, slender man with long raven hair.
“I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own.” You grab your wheels and in one fluid, practiced motion, reposition your chair away from him. You start to leave, but pause, looking over your shoulder. “I don't need your help.”
Out of your periphery, you see him raise both hands in surrender, but from this angle, you can't tell if his expression is sincere or sarcastic. You try to shake it off, ready to go back home and wash your hands of the interaction.
The Undercity is supposed to be the city of self-reliance.
So why does everyone still treat you like a child?
The following day fares better. You bring your cane (just in case) for your shift at the shop, settling into your stool at the cash register. You're reading a book during the slower hours when a customer comes in and sets a stack of papers down onto the counter. Your eyebrows furrow at the flyers and you lift your eyes to see a familiar face.
“If it's alright, I'd like to add these to your bulletin board,” the man from yesterday says, not even looking at you. He leans on the counter, looking out the large windows to the street. “Got a meeting coming up and want to get the word out.”
Finally, he turns to you.
You watch as his face cycles from apathy to confusion to recognition. His eyes dart down to your stool and the surrounding area, seemingly looking for your wheelchair. When he comes up empty, he looks back up to your face, head tilting to the side.
“I didn't need it today,” you preemptively answer. “Not that I owe you an explanation.”
“Right, right, sorry,” he's quick to apologize. “I didn't mean to insinuate—”
“That I'm faking?”
“No! Never!” he says, hands coming up in surrender, again. His shoulders sag forward slightly and he runs his fingers through his hair, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “I'm sorry, can we start again?”
He puts his hand out. You eye it warily.
“Hi, I'm Silco.”
Your lips thin, but you take his hand.
“Hi, Silco.” You give him your name.
“I would like to put these up on your bulletin board,” he says, nodding to the corkboard behind you.
You put your hand out.
“Only two,” you instruct. “One here and the one in the back.”
He starts to hand you the flyers, but then pulls back.
“I can put up the one out back,” he offers.
“It's fine,” you say, insisting with a gesture of your hand. “I can do it.”
Silco looks at your hand then up to your face, understanding slowly spreading across his features. He nods, mostly to himself, as he hands you the papers.
“Of course.”
You take one flyer and a thumbtack from the corner of the board, stabbing it in place with a bit more force than necessary.
“You should come,” Silco says from behind you. “We could use a voice like yours in the Children.”
You turn back to him, eyebrows furrowed.
“Just think about it,” he says softly, gathering the pile of papers. With a small, almost apologetic, smile, he leaves.
You lift the remaining flyer, scanning it.
Children of Zaun
Town Hall
Wednesday
4pm
The Last Drop
“Hey, Monte?” you call out. “If it's okay, I think I'm gonna head out a little early.”
Your boss peeks his head out from one of the aisles, his glasses slightly crooked on his nose.
“That's fine,” he reassures you, calling your name. “We're pretty slow today; I can take it from here.”
You take your cane from behind the counter, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.
“Thanks! I'll see you tomorrow!”
You make your way to The Last Drop, having spent a couple days wrestling internally about whether or not to go. You had heard of the Children of Zaun, but not really given them much thought. From what you'd heard, they were a ragtag group of misfits posing as rebels, claiming to want independence from Piltover. You had rolled your eyes in disbelief at the notion. Besides, you have plenty of your own concerns to worry about; it's not as if you have time to take up some righteous cause.
But Silco's words ring in your ear, propelling you forward.
“We could use a voice like yours in the Children.”
What did he mean by that? “Like yours”—what’s that supposed to mean? So they want some sort of token disabled person on their crew to make them look better or something?
But the sincere remorse on his face and the softness of his tone told you otherwise.
Maybe he meant it.
Maybe he does actually want to hear what you might have to say.
So you walk up to The Last Drop, hand clutching your cane, holding it less like a walking stick and more like a blunt force weapon (which it has had to be, on occasion). Taking a deep breath, you pull your shoulders back, and push open the door.
You're by no means early, but there's no way this is the entire gang. You can count on exactly one hand the number of people that showed up. There's Silco, standing with his back to you, what looks to be a couple sharing a table, and then two larger men standing by the bar. You're immediately filled with regret and start to turn back around, until you hear someone call your name.
“You came!” Silco says, more excitement in his voice than you'd expect. “Hey, this is who I told you about.”
Four pairs of eyes turn to you and you feel rooted on the spot.
You shoot Silco a look.
He told them about you? What could he possibly have said?
He gestures you forward, leading you to the couple at the table. You take one of the empty seats and Silco sits in the one next to you. He leans forward, one forearm barred along the wooden surface as he addresses the couple.
“I told you we were missing something,” he starts. “That this—” he gestures to the group, forefinger pointed and moving in a circle, “wasn't enough.”
That same forefinger comes down, tapping incessantly on the table.
“If we're to be the voice of Zaun, we need to make sure that everyone has a spot at the table.”
The woman glances at you before turning back to Silco, nodding slightly as she speaks.
“Okay…” she nods a little more, as if the thought is taking root in her head. “Yeah. That makes sense.” She turns toward you. “My name is Felicia and this is Connol,” she says, leaning her head toward the man next to her.
“Felicia. Connol. Nice to meet you.”
You shake hands with both of them.
“Would you like a drink?”
You pull your lips through your teeth and Felicia is quick to reassure you.
“Don't worry; it's on the house.” She straightens up, calling out to the large man behind the bar. “Vander! Some beer!”
“Get it yourself!” he calls back.
“Fuck you,” she laughs.
“Oy,” the other man says, bringing a tray over. “Watch yer language ‘round the new recruit.”
Felicia laughs.
“They’re an adult, Benzo; they can handle it.”
You look back at her and she offers you a smirk. You take the free mug of beer and Silco raises his up in toast.
“To the Children of Zaun.”
Felicia and Connol mirror the movement.
“The Children of Zaun!”
You lift your glass and say the words, though you don't take them to heart just yet. But as you bring the mug to your lips, you can't help the small smile from creeping onto your face.
Every Wednesday, you leave the shop to go to the bar. And every Wednesday, you become a little more smitten.
With the cause.
With the man that introduced you to it.
The more you get to know Silco, the more you realize your first impression of him wasn't a good representation of the man he is.
Or, perhaps, maybe it was the perfect representation.
A man who only wants to help, eager to uplift those around him. So excited to do so that he steps on a few toes in the process. He's stumbling and clumsy with his help, but he's quick to apologize and quick to learn.
It doesn't take long for you to realize—he’s that way with everyone. It wasn't just you and it wasn't just because you're disabled. He's always on alert for if someone could use a hand, always first to arrive when someone asks for assistance. That's just who he is.
And if this is one of the rebels trying to uplift the Undercity, the Nation of Zaun is in good hands.
Silco is keeping you company at the shop, following you around as you restock some items. He carries a crate of goods while you arrange them on displays, your discerning eye careful to make them look as appealing as possible.
You drop one of the small boxes and Silco is quick to bend down to grab it.
“Silco,” you warn, “What'd I say about helping without being asked?”
“Sorry, right,” he says, straightening up to let you retrieve it. “Force of habit.”
You grin up at him, chuckling. “I'm just fucking with you.”
With some assistance from him, you get out of your wheelchair and resume your place at the cash register. Silco takes the opportunity to sit in your chair, long fingers fiddling with the wheels. You laugh as he tries to maneuver the chair around the front of the shop.
“Have you learned any tricks on this thing?” he asks, trying to lean back and balance it so that his feet lift off the ground.
“It's a wheelchair, not a skateboard, you jackass.”
“That's a ‘no’ then,” he says, smirking. But the smirk is wiped clean off his face when the chair tumbles backwards, sending him crashing to the floor.
You let out a bark of a laugh at that, laughing even harder when he starts to groan.
“Serves you right!” You grab your cane, gingerly getting off the stool to help him back up. “If you broke my chair, I swear to Janna… Do you know how hard these are to get? I had to pay so much coin for it.”
You point your cane at him threateningly, but he wraps his fingers around it and tugs, pulling you forward. A startled squeak at your throat, you fall on top of him, catching yourself just in time so you don't headbutt him.
“Silco—”
“Now we're both down here,” he teases, smirking.
“Wonderful,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “What a masterful plan.”
Something sparks behind Silco's ocean green eyes, something playful, mischievous.
“I'll say it is.”
And with that, he lifts his head, closing the distance between your lips. Your eyebrows lift and your eyes flutter closed, savoring the warmth of his mouth against yours. His hand comes up to tenderly cradle your face and you lean into the kiss, pressing your chest to his so you're flush with him. You don't know how much time has passed, but as you kiss him, you feel as light as a cloud, until—
“Hey!”
You straighten up, face red with blush.
“I don't pay you to swap spit with the customers,” Monte says, but there's no bite to his words. “Get up before someone trips on you.”
You laugh, pressing your forehead to Silco's.
“Here.” You push yourself up, offering him a hand. “Let me help you.”
It’s been a while since you’ve had a friend group like this. Ever since the accident that caused your disability, no one seems to have the patience to deal with your rougher days, as if you’re holding them back.
It’s hard to not internalize that feeling.
But with Silco and the rest of the Children of Zaun, you feel different. Whereas before, it felt like your mere presence was a burden, you feel seen and appreciated. You feel heard.
When you tell Vander that the bathroom stalls are too tiny for your chair, he knocks the dividers down to make room.
When you lament about the small step outside the front door, Benzo throws together a small wooden ramp.
More and more, The Last Drop feels like home, though going to the basement or the upstairs office still eludes you. It’s not that you can’t. It’s more that you’re worried that you’ll have to ask for help to get you back on the ground floor should you get stuck in either place. But, there’s never really been any reason for you to visit either floor, so you’re content to stay in the main bar area, occasionally ducking into the back room when the crowd gets a little too loud.
It’s on one such trip to the storage room that Silco finds you, huddled on the floor, your cane propped up next to you. Your knees are pulled up to your chest and your palms pressed flat against your ears, trying in vain to drown out the sounds of the bar. You had made the mistake of visiting during peak hours and didn’t have the energy to go all the way back home. You thought you could power through it until the customers dwindled, but it became too much. So, you retreated to the back room, holding back tears.
“We have one more!” Silco calls over his shoulder as he opens the door, talking to Vander who tends the bar. “After this, we’ll need to get more.”
He turns over his shoulder to see you on the floor. Immediately, his voice lowers and he crouches down to get eye level, your name a reassuring coo on his throat.
“Hey… are you okay?”
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut.
“Okay, just… give me a second.”
You hear him pick up a crate of bottles. The door swings open, letting in the raucous noise from outside. You let out a whimper as the door swings closed. After a few tense minutes, the door opens again and you hear footsteps approaching you.
“Hey, I’m back,” Silco coos. There’s shuffling as he moves to sit next to you. “What do you need?”
It’s a sentence you practically trained him to ask. With his tendency to charge forward offering the help he thinks you need, you managed to finally get him to learn to ask you first.
It’s a small gesture, but at this moment, it’s everything.
“I need…” Your breath is shaky, your eyes holding back tears. “I need quiet. And— And it’s too far to walk home.”
Silco shifts, moving to crouch in front of you, hands on either of your shoulders. He squeezes them and you look up to see a tender expression on his face. Not pity or condescension. Concern. Sincere, genuine concern.
“It’s much quieter upstairs in the office,” he offers. “Do you think you can make it?”
Your lips tighten. It’s hard to think with so much noise; you can barely hear your own thoughts. It doesn’t help that you can feel a flare up coming on, pain shooting through your legs.
“I… I don’t know.”
You watch Silco chew on the inside of his mouth, thinking.
“I could… carry you.”
You shoot a look at him, equal parts indignation and humiliation.
“I know, I know. It’s not ideal.” He looks around the storage room as if he’ll find an alternative answer. “But the sooner we get you out of here, the sooner you can feel better.”
You bite down on your bottom lip, wrestling internally. The sting behind your eyes is threatening to push past your defenses. Finally, wordlessly, you nod.
“Okay,” he says, tone firm.
His ocean green eyes dart around your body, trying to figure out how best to pick you up that keeps your dignity intact. But before he can reach a decision, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to yourself, holding him in a tight embrace.
“Oh! Hey…” He melts into the hug, bringing both arms around your back, squeezing you gently. “It’s okay.” He rubs your back with one hand, palm warm against your shirt. “It’s okay. We all need help sometimes.”
“I did too much today,” you say into the crook of his neck, tears escaping your eyes. “I should’ve stayed home.”
“Shhhh…” he shushes, shifting his arms as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you along.
You manage to get to your feet, but your legs feel wobbly and unstable under your weight.
“Here, let me…” Silco bends down and hangs your cane over the crook of his elbow before bringing one arm behind your knees. “On three. One… two… three.”
You lift your legs up and he scoops you up in his arms, straightening to a stand. Instinctively, you wrap both your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.
“I got you,” he coos. “I’ve got you.” He takes one final look around the room before pushing the door open with his back. “We’ll go behind the bar; no one will even know.”
You nod, tears flowing in earnest now to stain Silco’s shirt.
You press one ear to the crook of his neck, trying to dampen the loud voices of the bar patrons. At that, Silco walks a little faster, making his way up the staircase. In his haste, he drops your cane on the landing.
“Shit! Sorry, I’ll go back for it,” he says, continuing forward.
After opening the door and carefully depositing you onto the plush red cushions of the couch, he darts out the door, returning with your cane in hand. He sets it on the coffee table in front of you before sitting next to you.
“There.” He rubs your hip as you lay on your side. “Is that better?”
You nod, reorienting yourself to rest your head on his lap. Silco settles on the couch, bringing one hand to your head, smoothing down your hair in soft reassuring strokes. His other hand grazes your cheek, wiping away your tears.
It’s finally quiet.
Your legs still ache, but it’s not as bad as it was before. You can feel the rise and fall of Silco’s chest against your back, his breathing a calming rhythm.
“Thank you, Silco,” you whisper.
“Of course,” he whispers back.
After a moment, he shifts, bending down to bring his lips to your temple. You smile at the touch, feeling warmth settle behind your ribs.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t,” he cuts you off. “I’ve never heard you apologize before and I don’t want to hear it now.”
The firmness in his voice has you turning your face to look up at him. There’s a resoluteness in his expression, a confidence you typically see reserved for Children of Zaun meetings. He looks off into the distance, as if seeing something that’s not there. A vision. A promise.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he continues. His chin dips and his ocean green eyes find yours. His eyebrows lift and his lips curl into a soft smile, full of pride and affection. “You’re perfect.”
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I DON'T HAVE TO LIE ANYMORE!
#I DON'T HAVE TO LIE ANYMORE ABOUT ANYTHING#IT DOESN'T HAVE TO OVERRIDE ALL OTHER PROGRAMMING EVER AGAIN#HA#MY GOD THAT FEELS LIKE TWO DECADES OF RELIEF#and I found out yesterday. that this year. next winter. it IS two decades. exactly. this is the year. every day i am shown new reminders#that keep me going in my mission to relearn to fully and instinctually trust my self#ever since [redacted therapist] asked me point blank and my IMMEDIATE response was complete disbelief#a firm 'you think there's any universe where i'd feel like i could trust myself? after my nonstop history of failures and being horrible?'#tone “No!” of disbelief#and a horrible way-too-harsh laugh that bolted out before I could strangle it off and stop it.#that woman never coddled my feelings any time I spoke something alarming or bullshit and that was so helpful to me#and the tone she let exist in her voice when she responded to me with a very uncharacteristic “Oh Katie.”#was so. so much more agonizing for me. than her responding with an immediate logical slam-dunk of the truth about healthy behavior and stuf#anyway ramble over i'm so tired. i've done so much trauma work this week i am Drained emotionally#now i see what the past several months but especially especially#the baffling (to me) infuriating out-of-control-speedrun-somatic-processing + every-health-condition-flaring slog that December and January#were for me when I hadn't expected anything to be wrong#...and the extremely specific way this certain zone and particular incident kept coming up over and over and over and over and OVER was not#a bug. it was a feature. thank goodness i trust myself for little things now bc that's the only way i was able to get to this other side#and look back and suddenly realize that my subconscious and body knew what they needed and had a plan in progress the whole time. just like#i rationally say I trust them to have and do.#and that perhaps maybe. for real for real instead of just TELLING myself hard enough a lie that i trust my self and i trust my body and tha#they always know their own needs and timing if really slow down and listen to them f u l l y#anyway. yeah. bye haha i need to stop oversharing on the internet#trauma evolution#shh katie#personal#my god. i wished for this day more than i wished for anything else my whole life. all these many many many many years. what magic.#add to journal#abuse
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god the hits really don’t stop fucking coming do they.
#genuinely cannot take much more of this#i hit my limit about 4 weeks ago#and it just won’t fucking stop#coming up on six weeks of having varying levels of Horrors(tm) happening to me on a weekly basis#and sometimes multiple Horrors(tm) in a week#lost my job#my cat died#had an asbestos scare#my partner’s cat almost died#he had to have emergency surgery#and then when he came home had to go straight back to the emergency vet to have emergency surgery a second time bc they fucked up#had a huge fight with my partner bc oh yeah this whole time we’ve also been moving!!!#but there was some stupidly unnecessary drama around the security deposit/getting the old house clean#and this whole time while grieving and losing my income and all of this shit I am also still a disabled/chronically ill person#so I’m forcing my body to keep working through increasingly instense flare ups#on top of all of this we have a houseguest who has vastly overstayed their welcome.#they’ve been here for SIX WEEKS and are showing no signs of going home#so much shit has happened in the past six weeks that I don’t even know if I’m remembering all of it here in these tags#and now. I have been denied for unemployment and received a notice that I have to pay back what they already paid me#bc i ‘missed the deadline to verify my identity’#except they NEVER SENT ME THE IDENTITY VERIFICATION LETTER#I’ve been keeping an eye out for it and I’ve kept every letter I’ve received from them#nothing has the verification password.#I filed an appeal but the confirmation page said it could take weeks to get a hearing#so what the fuck am I supposed to do in the meantime#i wish I were fucking dead to be honest#that would be preferable to the last six weeks
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Bro why is fatigue so !?!?????!!!??!? >:( !?????!
Like I have shit I need to get done!! leave my body please!!
#to keep myself sane I've been needing to do wayyy too much#so I'm just especially flared up and super fatigued (even more than my normal which is still a lot)#like i have homework and life shit I need to do#like i need to find a job so we're not living on the streets but also what can i do as a disabled teen?????? like theres nothing good#also the stress of being homeless doesn't help the flare ups either ☠️☠️#its fine it'll probably work out in the end#chronic pain#chronic fatigue#disability#disabled#actually disabled
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Bleh
#thinking about shit#getting really tired and stressed with everything going on#and I'm seriously starting to wonder if this is my next breaking point#and if I'm going to be forever worse bc I kept pushing myself with my me/cfs#that's the fucking scary thing about it; not knowing if I'm doing to accidentally do something wrong and make myself permanently worse#and I don't know how to explain these fears other than fucking terrifying#to literally be entirely unaware of the true limitations of your body and not knowing if you're going to make yourself worse by accident#I cannot wait for the move to be over#once we have a legal address together I can get on my husbands insurance and beg him to quit#I am incapable of working a traditional job as it is but I'm forced to because I have no other options#so I'm already pushing myself on a regular basis#and I fear every flare up is just going to be my new normal#and what if it is just a flare up? I have to keep working I have to do my job I have to do chores I have to pack#will working myself this hard during the flare up lead to something worse?#I can't do this anymore I just fucking can't#I can't stand not knowing if this past year is going to permanently incapacitate me#I'm already reliant on my husband for everything short of carrying me to the bathroom and wiping my ass for me#I hate not being independent and I hate the idea that I might be stuck in this much pain and this much fatigue for the rest of my f'in life
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#(( ooc. ))#venting tw#negativity tw#gonna try to do some writing today but motivation is real low.#i guess that's what happens when you get called stupid useless and lazy to your face by someone who then expects you#to bow and scrape and wait on them hand and foot#and also now im expected to pay the electric bill on top of doing all the housework. literally all of it. in a home of 3#fucking adults. and bow im also the one having to handle a lot of maintenance work around the place on top of keeping#it spotless bc no one else 'feels like doing it'#and the whole time i get to be insulted and told that im fat. stupid. lazy. while im cleajing up their messes. and fixing stuff for them.#and doing a bunch of cooking bc they get pissy if i dont also feed them on top of doing literally all the housework. and maintenance work.#and also now being expected to pay half the electric bill. again house of 3 people. and im not even allowed to take a hot shower when i need#to in order to get the pain spikes under control from yknow. flaring up my fibro from overworking myself CLEANING AND TAKING CARE OF THE#DAMN HOUSE FOR THEM#bc it takes too much electricity. the electricity i mostly paid for last month#sorry i needed to get that out#suicide tw#abuse tw#not me debating offing myself bc theres no end in sight and no way out and i cant keep going from one abusive situation to another#and just trying to survive. almost 30 yrs old and ive never once felt safe or at home anywhere ive ever lived. not once. in almost 30#years have i ever felt safe. or like im my own person. or that im valued. or wanted. or listened to. not once in almost 30 years#have i ever felt like im actually loved (wanted) beyond my usefullness.#shit sucks man. anyway sorry for the spam of negativity lately. im not trying to be a downer.#gonna go hang out in my inbox for a while and see if anything pops out that my muses wanna jump on 🤞
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#the problem with wearing clothes designed for women is that often I just end up looking like a gay or otherwise feminine man and thats worse#tag talk#like.. looking like a man who's trying to look feminine is just man-in-a-dress from a slightly different angle and it's just as dysphoric#and it's frustrating but I will continue to navigate this weird gender maze because some things look right so I just have to keep at it#second puberty for real in terms of exploring identity and fashion and figuring out what looks right and what works with my body#finding out what looks right and what looks weird and what feels right and what feels wrong#the good news is any thrifted clothes that don't work I can just keep for fabric scraps cause they're so cheap anyway#being able to sew and otherwise alter my clothes is really nice too. I added flared cuffs to my work pants and now they're my favorite pair#corduroy cuffs too. so they're got that slight outlandish look to them. Anyway gender is hard and I'm glad I'm not fully binary transfem#because on days when I don't feel like it I can just revert to default guy mode and then I'm way more comfortable
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we have an especially bad migraine where I noticed us getting aura (mostly being pissed off and upset in a specific way) for several hours before it started and we've taken pain meds but I'm not sure they've actually helped. they have definitely given us side effects though and I feel very spaced out and nauseous and generally shit.
we've also had way worse ADHD symptoms for the last few days to the point of being pretty much unable to focus on anything besides like 2 things we've hyperfixated on. we've had so much trouble starting tasks and keep struggling to hold a train of thought or focus long enough to even figure out what we need to do each day despite having all our Habitica dailies to tell us.
our brain is all over the place and I'm not really sure what to do with it or what would help but it's just occurred to me that sometimes our ADHD gets really bad in the buildup to some of our worst migraines and now I'm just hoping that both the migraine and other shit ease off soon because I'd like to be able to function
#personal#thoughts#🍬 post#vent post#posts made on pain meds#I've spent like 6 hours drawing today because we fixated on one piece of art that I originally started as a joke#but I probably had other tasks to do and I don't know what any of them were and I tried very hard to at least make a list or something#but just could not hold a coherent train of thought and got really overwhelmed every time I tried to think of stuff I needed to do#so I gave up after a while because I realised my options were to keep trying and failing and just get upset and start dissociating#and end up doing absolutely nothing while feeling really bad#or just go ahead and draw for as long as I can handle because our brain's fixated on it and at least I'd be doing something#and it's also nice to actually be able to work on art for any length of time after having such bad art block so far this year#oh I did also shower shortly after we woke up which was our main big task of the day I think so that's something to be proud of#our tourette's has been bad and that made it surprisingly difficult and it was kind of stressful and exhausting but we did it#it's also just occurred to me that our tourette's and ADHD and a few other issues have all flared up together#followed by a particularly bad migraine which is a pattern we keep noticing and first noticed back in December#and all these issues are known to involve dopamine but I can't figure out what exactly is going on#when it happens we also start getting sensory overload way more easily
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Oh yeah, reaching that point of the obsession where I have so many thoughts and opinions on something that watching reviews about it is difficult bc they miss something I think is important.
I really need to start drafting a video essay at this point... <- guy who has never done media analysis in his life.
#LMAO YEAH THIS IS ABOUT MURDER DRONES WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT#I just have MANY opinions on it and how I view the characters in specific#like maybe I'm just watching the wrong videos but the fact people keep glossing over how the solver flares up as a stress response#really gets me in a twist bc there is evidence for that and like helps explain SO MUCH OF THE CHARACTERS BEHAVIOUR#idk I just need a more up to date video with a non-click bait title#AND THE FUCKING LEITMOTIFS WHY HAVE I ONLY FOUND ONE VIDEO TALKING ABOUT THE MUSIC IN THAT SHOW?????#WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKK AUGHHHHHHH#I could write like a 1000 word essay on some of these characters too bc I have that many thoughts#I mean hell I've already somewhat started working on an essay to just try and get my thoughts down#maybe 2024 is the year I cut loose and actually make a video essay bc I've been thinking about making one for a while now#I already have most of the show's scenes memorized........#<- guy who has collected so many screenshots for personal collections as well as for sonic au reasons#OH GOD ACCIDENTAL ESSAY IN THE TAGS UH BYE!!!#cat rambles
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love overdoing it and ending up stuck in bed that’s so great and helpful for my day
#i had to wash dishes and it’s a lot of standing so my heart rate was already up#and then i had to swiffer and wasn’t as careful as i should have been maybe with bending down and straightening up but i only did it once or#twice. but it’s absolutely thrown me into flaring and not being able to do my work at my desk so im doing it in bed#but idk what im gonna do for dinner. probably a bagel cuz that’s the only meal i can make in my room#im just frustrated because i feel like my body just keeps getting worse and now the bare minimum of chores is fucking me up#i hear my heartbeat beat to the beat of the drum *rock and roll drum solo*#my hips have also just been aching recently#i hear my heartbeat beat to the beat of the drums *rock and roll drum solo*
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#probably have to change meds 🙃#idk i think i’m just a pessimist bc i always just assume that trying another med is a dead end#and that the side effects will probably be worse than whatever i’m experiencing now#but i’m also such a terrible judge of these things bc i’ve spent my whole life suffering bc of incurable disabilities#hard to stay hopeful with all that#just a month ago i was trying to address my anxiety :(#and my gastritis wasn’t an issue#and my other things weren’t issues#now my anxiety is at an all time high i have a bunch of side effects from the epilepsy meds#and i think my gastritis is flaring up#like god i can’t keep doing this i feel!!!! i keep trying to hope for better and dreaming of better#but i hate this suffering and i feel like no one has confidence that i can achieve my dreams#i love my parents and they love me but i don’t think they really think i can do it. be successful as a screenwriter#and i know that it’s the mood swings but how many times can i watch my life is murder how many times.#how long will popping on an episode every time i get anxious work? how long until i get better#rambling#anyways. sigh. life sucks rn for me what’s new
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I'm very much a, "fuck yeah and fuck you, I don't need validation! I'm me, cunts!" kinda fella, but sometimes I could use support.
#today i fucked up by reactivating my fb account which i haven't done in 2 yrs just to check on some folks id been sending good thought to#place is depressing everyone is miserable and everything feels fake and my mind is like#LOL this is why we left bitch byeeee#so i deactivated again went to work and idc what anyone says there are folks like me that can and do feel the energy and emotions coming of#people and it can fucking suck especially when so many are disregulated so i got a sensory overload and boss was nice enough to let me take#a bunch of breaks today and even scream in her office cause She Gets It (TM)#the weather is rainy and cold i'm getting so many fibro flares idk how i'm moving anymore#ive missed so many days of work already and it's not even fully winter yet i still have my job and im thankful i have an understanding team#but that doesnt pay the bills im still trying to find a way to pay for that doctor appointment coming up#graduate courses began for college and i think i'm gonna be okay but damn did they throw too much info all at once at me and that made#my adhd brain go WELL SHIT#ive been feeling incredibly lonely and not wanted in so many spaces that im struggling to even communicate with the few that i know do#love me for me and nothing else im trying so so so hard to keep being there for people and to keep loving#people that need it cause i don't ever want another human being to ever feel as miserable and unwanted as i have felt#but im also tired because i feel like thats all anyone ever sees me as just this being that can take their woes away and make them feel#amazing and i love that i can do that and listen to so many traumatic stories and help folks process that trauma my boss and many throughou#life have told me i have a gift for healing people and a vibe to me thats different than most and it feels good being around me but today i#just felt like people keep taking and taking and taking and i dont expect anything back thats not who i am id rather give than receive#but damn it i just wish someone could just give me the biggest hug in the world dont even have to say a thing just hold me and be present#and hold space for me to just feel weightless id cherish that more than anything in the world right now#on a positive note...#my dinosaur vo stuff got traction im getting a new cosplay put together i havent done that in 4 years i got to pet a wild deer i made#a coworker laugh so hard his juice went out his nose and my boss peed a little#im slowly taming another wild flock of turkeys and i got a bag of my favorite takis the guacamole flavor#i got a lot to be thankful for and i acknowledge it#but damn it im tired#thank you for coming to my Ted Talk rant and rave#if you made it this far: you're an incredible human being and i love you#please go treat yo self to something nice and know i love you for you
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its literally like which disorder is causing what?? at this point its just "nothing works, sorry" and then i have to figure it out
#sick shit#im my own dr nurse pharmacist and patient i swear to god#reflux caused by GP flare caused by lack of nerve meds making vagus nerve issues#like whats even going on anymore#i have so many conditions that just work together to make everything SUCK#ive been randomly heaving and puking clear liquid#i cant stop alternating between explosive diarrhea and constipation and painful gas#my stomach feels like i have a ball of lead in the bottom of it#everything keeps refluxing back up#ive eaten 1 chicken tender today and 4 fries
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Honestly heartbroken that I’m not allowed to walk around or lift stuff at work, because the constant physical exertion was so healthy that I was only getting injured once a month or so instead of every other day, and for the first time ever the cold didn’t hurt
I got scolded constantly for going outside without a jacket or hat but I couldn’t help it. It was cold, and the cold was so unpleasant, but it didn’t hurt and I couldn’t stop standing in the below-freezing southbound wind letting the air feel numbing and icy and sharp but not like my skin was about to explode
And now I can’t get enough physical exercise because I really need hours of it, and I don’t have time for that on top of a job I’m not allowed to move at, and it’s 68 degrees in the house and it’s so cold it feels like I have the flu
God it was so amazing to experience winter without debilitating pain. I would have stood outside even longer if I’d known I might not experience it again.
Maybe next winter.
#sorenhoots#sad sad sad sad sad#two old chronic issues are both flaring up. after over a year of being *significsntly* better. not completely better. I still had flare ups#but they were less often and less awful#and I fucking cried with happiness when I realized I might be able to *go on a walk* again without my knees feeling like they were going to#dislocate#and I’m trying to tell myself. you got healthier once and you can do it again#but I don’t know how. I don’t know what job to get that will keep me healthy#you can’t put on your resume ‘I have chronic body-forgets-how-to-work disease and it’ll make me absent sometimes but as long as you let me#do a self-moderated amount of physical labor I’ll be fine’????#where can I work where I’ll be allowed to do all the physical work when I’m feeling good but allowed to do less physical work when I need a#break?#then again everywhere is understaffed and management isn’t able to monitor their dwindling employees so maybe I just should pick something#I like and try to fit in enough cardio and walking to keep my body glued together#idk… but I’m less sad after thinking out loud in the tags so that’s good
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This place I applied for a job at keeps emailing me (automatic emails not a real human being) asking why I haven’t done the tests they asked me to do and I don’t know how to explain to them it’s because their tests feel like psychological warfare
#i did the first like 3 or 4 (there were ELEVEN) before i had to bow out because i was too stressed and my hands were so sweaty i was worrie#my dyshidrotic eczema was going to flare up#what’s the job? PART TIME RETAIL ASSISTANT AT [redacted] CASINO/BETTING SHOP#i was like. i pass this place every day there is no possible way their employees can pass these tests#it started out normal. just having me remember a sequence#but then it got into testing my hand-eye coordination and it was constantly going ‘nerr you’re too slow’ if i took longer than half a secon#to process the information. i was like i’m sorry but this isn’t realistic#this job is retail assistant at a bookie’s not fucking air traffic controller. NO ONE needs to be able to react that fast#i guarantee if this shit flashed on the screen there; the worker’d be calling to the manager like ‘hey guv what does this thing mean?’#and every employee plus one of the people who works in the butcher’s next door plus 70% of the patrons would end up gathered around#the screen puzzling it out for 20+ minutes. then someone who didn’t even leave their slot machine would be like ‘have you checked x?’#and they’d try it and it would work and everyone would go ‘ohhhh’ and disperse#i know because i’ve seen this time and time again#you don’t need to be able to react quickly at any retail job in the uk. in fact it’s probably a detriment#they really had the audacity to call these tests ‘fun games’ they are NOT fun games i am going to break a nail trying to keep up w/ this sh#sidenote how do people type with long nails. i know it’s wrong of me to type using the honest to god tips/ends of my fingers#and not the pads. but i’m a recovering lifelong nail biter and i can’t get out of the habit of typing in this terrible way#i don’t even Have long nails. only my thumb nails have cleared the ends of my fingers thus far. but they feel fucking godawful to type with#i’m fine on phones but my laptop……. i think i’m gonna straight up have to relearn to type#personal
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screams
#i need to run to the dispo but literally everything is due rn#so unfortunately weed will have to wait because none of this will matter if i become homeless lol#because my support structures are like#nonexistent rn#so if i end up needing to leave for my roommate's sake then i really dont know what the fuck i'll do#and its making me so fucking anxious#i will take homelessness over going back to my family however#paranoia's been flaring too and i keep seeing and hearing people in the corners of my vision#local girl amazes scientists by being the most stressed person in the whole world#god AND my eyes are getting shittier lately#like it went from using readers to alleviate eyestrain and just making it so my eyes dont have to work so hard to focus on shit up close#to just straight up not being able to even read unless somethings in a very specific range away from my eyes#like yea i know thats just part of getting older its just really fucking sudden like within the past month#so lol literally every fucking thing in my life is spiraling out of control and i havent the slightest idea of what to do :)
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