#but ive got 3 active campaigns now so u can expect at least a Little more stuff

[lyrspo]

the party went up against a corrupt guard captain and his goons a couple sessions ago and Finn got Real Mad. needless to say those guards wont b getting back up any time soon

[thedankfaerie]

i am posting this here because i am tired of burdening my boyfriend with my feelings. this is a little nsfw. and this is my call for help. i dont know who to talk to anymore about this.

i need someone to hear what i feel

or at least, a free space to say what i feel 

im in a low place. i feel so awful about myself and my body and i hate this feeling. i hate that this time last year, i was so happy about the way i looked. i was working this awful job that had me so overworked and overtired and poorly treated that i skipped meals and slept through meals regularly... i lost so much weight from stress in just a year and was the skinniest i had ever been. mentally, i was not in a good place being exploited by my managers... but my self esteem re: my body was at a new level i never knew could exist for me.

last year, i felt powerful and confident about my body, and i expressed that through sexuality. i was fucking my ex that i still liked (i grew out of wanting him back, but he never did, and it was nice to have the upper hand). i was also fucking an old fwb that i stayed friends with, that was also recently single, so we reunited again at the perfect time. i was also seeing this one guy (now my boyfriend) so if ever i got tired of the sex i at least was able to calm down and settle down with someone who genuinely wanted to know me. of course, i ended up catching feelings for this guy, and cut off the other two to pursue something more serious (we are now dating and are moving in together next month!) anyways, it was so nice to be wanted. to feel... i guess sexy? sex is empowering. and it shouldn’t be taboo to say that as a woman, or anyone really. i dont want to give off the message that a woman’s validation is fueled by men’s desire - but hey, don’t you feel flattered when someone thinks you’re attractive? desire and lust aren’t everything... but they matter. and they have an impact on how you feel about yourself, whether or not you believe me when i say that is up to you. 

 and i hate that i would gladly put myself through the stress that i did just to feel happy about my body. before the summer ended, i finally had enough and i quit my shitty job. i was jobless for a month, but was able to enjoy the rest of the summer with my new ‘skinny’ body - last year i took my first bikini picture ... a 2 piece! i have never done that. i still think about how happy i was that summer to look and feel good about myself. 

i have struggled with self esteem issues since highschool. i always felt like i was too big. i used to follow all these blogs of pretty people and try to copy their poses to feel pretty and i used to spend hours after school trying on short dresses and clothes to stare at my body in the mirror. i used to starve myself to the point of literally wanting to faint on the daily, until finally i admitted it to one of my teachers. she respectfully asked if i wanted to speak with the school guidance counsellor, and i declined. but she encouraged me to speak up to at least a friend, so i did, and it helped, and for a long time, i was okay. after i graduated that teacher still checked up on me for a few years every now and again.

4th year university was when i realized how much i had let myself go. i was the heaviest i had ever been, it was my graduating year, i was looking for a job and was always worried about my grades. every time i was stressed or every time i needed to study i bought pad thai and bubble tea. a ritual. i didnt realize how much that had caught up to me until i saw old pictures of myself. at this point, i started my (shitty) job, straight out of graduation.

i actively avoided scales, i didn’t like looking at the number because it just made me upset. and i already felt upset looking in the mirror, i didn’t need something else to make me upset. but i did. and i was 20 pounds heavier than i was in highschool - the heaviest i had ever been.

i cried.

i didnt do much about it. i was too busy. my first job out of uni was a brand new daycare and i was head teacher of a toddler class - also i was the only staff on floor since there were not as many kids. there was nobody to train me, at all. i had to teach myself everything. i had no time. 

a little while before starting the job, i met this guy. he was so hot, but such a dick - we had a “thing” but it was so toxic. he started off interested in me, but i turned him down. his attitude changed and he started being a douche, but we became friends because we were seeing each other so often. i didn’t have a car yet. he was driving me everywhere. he lived 5 minutes away. he was the type of friend that would text me “im outside, lets go out”. we hung out as friends at first, we would have “study dates”, until we started hooking up. we acted like a thing but he denied we were ever one - but got mad at me whenever i tried to look elsewhere. but i guess in that time, it was nice to be wanted, especially by someone so attractive. 

but again, a year in that shithole job went by fast. i would stay late after work. i would come in on weekends. i was expected to not only help new kids transition, but train new partners. and given that my supers refused to support me, i watched a lot of people quit due to pressure. i had to keep retraining. and kids kept coming. that never stopped. i can honestly say my class wasn’t settled until december, and i started in september. everyday it was ‘its fine, it will get better’. 

a year in that shithole, with 0 support, and i lost all the weight i gained - and more. i was the skinniest i had ever been. even in highschool. i looked at old pictures of myself from when i started the job at my heaviest. i couldnt believe that was me. and i was so happy looking at myself in the mirror. for once! 

after i quit that job, i started another job that i hoped would be a happy ending.

and it wasn’t. it stressed me out just as much. i also moved out by this point, a month after i started this job. my hours are whack. 7-9, 11:30-6. i woke up early and got home late. i never had free time. my last shift at my old job was 7-3:30 and i had the whole day to myself. im someone that needs social interaction and alone time, and by the time i got home i was so tired, i would just cook, clean, shower, and go to bed. and that was my life. sometimes i would get so tired that i couldn’t cook, i just went and ate out. i tried to make personal time with my friends after work but by the time i reached their house, it was late, and places were closed. and id have to leave early anyways because i had work early the next day... so fast food was the only way to make this work. on top of this, this was the most difficult class that i had ever had. the kids behaviours’ were so difficult and i couldn’t handle it. i would cry in my car 3x a week. i would cry 4 minutes before my shift starts in the washroom and walk out and pretend i was okay. i would have my boyfriend come over as much as i could just so i could cry in his arms. i couldnt leave this job because i had just moved out and having a consistent rent payment was a huge responsibility for me. as well, if you know anything about ECEs in canada, just know we make shit pay. but this job pays me better than most ECE jobs... by a landslide. AND gives me benefits, which is so hard to find. i am still at this job - i was at my breaking point at the time covid started, so i was rejoicing when we closed for covid. i havent worked since march, but i needed that time off so desperately. 

with that being said, i gained the weight back.

not everything, but i definitely could tell i was packing on some pounds.

cue covid.

i havent worked since march. i fell back into a lazy routine of ordering fast food. lying in bed. resting. just enjoying NOT dealing with my difficult class. 

but i gained it all back. and i think im back at my heaviest weight. i picked up all my summer clothes from last year from my moms... half of them dont fit me. my favourite pair of shorts won’t close. i just sat and cried in a mess of clothes on my floor in front of the mirror. this was last week.

im trying to tell myself, ‘you’re in the middle of a global pandemic, go easy on yourself’... but do you know what it’s like to finally get what you’re chasing, and have it be taken away from you? i finally had a taste of what it was like to look AND feel good about myself. something ive wanted since i was a teenager...and it’s gone. it’s my fault and i accept that, so please don’t tell me i did this to myself. i know i did. but i can still be upset about it. i look in the mirror and i try to suck my stomach in and pretend nothing changed but its not the same. i see old pictures of myself, especially that bikini pic. ironically, i captioned it “i will never have the confidence to take a bikini pic again”... and here we are. i look at the clothes i wore last year and remember how fucking good i felt wearing them. i try putting them back on and seeing my stomach bulging and my arms looking fat and my love handles, something i didn’t see last year. and i just take them off and opt to wear something frumpier that doesnt hug my figure.

i try to tell people about how i feel but i cant take those ‘love yourself and all your flaws’ campaigns seriously. i dont think i can listen to another ‘you have to just keep faking it until you make it and if u just tell urself ur beautiful u will feel beautiful!’

because if you’re me, you know you cant kid yourself. if you’re me you can’t ‘love every flaw’. you fixate on them. and you let them define you. and if youre me, flaws are all you see.

i hate myself for getting back to this point. 

i have a very supportive boyfriend that knows about all this, who is trying to actively get me to go on runs with him. we are trying to go for walks more and be out and about. he reminds me of little things, like if we are getting bubbletea he will suggest i go with less sugar. he is trying, we are trying. and i appreciate him so much.

today i complained in my car about this to my boyfriend, again. for the millionth time. and he still was supportive. but i just feel like i cant keep doing this to him. he said something today, which i think was him trying to give me a reality check to show me that i cant just wish i could starve myself and overwork myself to lose weight and call it a day... but it stung. he said “i don’t want to be with someone that’s not healthy. i have standards too” and i realized then he deserves so much better than to fucking babysit my complaining ass. i am 24. and i shouldnt be putting this on him. he is an adult with problems just as real as mine and i shouldnt be burdening him with this anymore. 

im scared to talk to him about how that comment made me feel, because he’s so right, and he has every right to leave me. i would honestly. the amount that i worry and fixate on all my flaws and complain and have crying breakdowns about this is not fucking normal. and it shouldnt be his problem. i just want him to be with someone that doesnt give him this baggage. he met me in my ‘prime’ days when i just started getting my skinny body last year. when we finally started dating, we were super sexually active. and i mean, having sex like 15 times a week. im not kidding. now we havent had sex in almost an entire month. i dont feel sexy anymore and its impacting my sex drive.. he tries to start it with me and i just can’t because i feel like he is probably repulsed by my body. this is a huge huge huge problem, seeing as sex was a huge part of our relationship (we are very emotionally in tune with one another, but sex was a great addon because we both love it so much). i hate the way i look without clothes on. i cant bring myself to do it because it makes me feel like shit about myself.

but we are moving in together next month. and that is a huge step. and i am worried that i will never change, and he’s going to feel like he’s stuck with me because he’s moving 40 minutes away from his hometown to live with me. i almost want us to break up so he can be with someone with less baggage but i also love him and i want to be better for him and for us. 

someone please help me. 

[dimples-of-discontent]

Hwæt: I'm Waging a Campaign

Hwæt. We Gardena in geardagum,  þeodcyninga, þrym gefrunon, hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon.

So. The Spear-Danes in days gone by and the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness. We have heard of those princes’ heroic campaigns.

(Beowulf, trans. Seamus Heaney)

Hello friends,

I’m cross-posting this from a CaringBridge site that I could link to but which will reveal my secret IRL identity since the URL is my name for ease of finding! (I actually think that’s fine but, y’know, use the info respectfully since I have worked to have separation between my professional social media and my fandom social media.)

This is an introduction and update on how things are going with my breast cancer. I’ll do some cross-posting, but most updates will be on CaringBridge and, potentially, a sideblog here that will be less family-approved and/or full of reflections on the whole process. I’ll link you to that if I make one. Thanks for all the good wishes and the gentle hellos and the positivity. It has been sustaining and I am lucky in my friends and family here. 💜💜💜

(Author's note! This is a long post with a fair bit of technical stuff that I find fascinating but don't expect you to. It's just hard to know how to catch you all up without going into detail but, if you like, feel free to skip to the last couple paragraphs.)

If you're here that means you already know many of the basic info, which is that about 6 weeks ago I was diagnosed with triple-negative, metastatic breast cancer. It's pretty nasty and aggressive and moved quickly from a large tumor in my left breast to my axillary lymph node to my lungs to the soft tissue next to my spine (with probable bone marrow involvement). It's probably about 6-9 months old. I wasn't looking for it since, at 34 with zero family history, I wasn't even old enough for screenings. But genetic mutations come from somewhere and it looks like I am the mutation.

Is there good news? Not much. (Not yet.) The tiniest bit is that more aggressive cancers tend also to be more responsive to treatment. The fact that it's triple-negative breast cancer (TNBC) means that the tumor is negative for the three types of receptors that can be used for additional therapies: progesterone, estrogen, and HER2. (A second test actually put my ER number at 20%...which sounds a little like me in general: although I seem very negative at second glance you'll see that I'm about 20% positive.) It's also negative for androgen. This means that the only potential kind of supplementary therapy that might help along with chemotherapy would be immunotherapy. I'm not a candidate for either surgery or radiation since the spread of the cancer is so pervasive and those are highly localized.

I haven't started treatment yet. For these past weeks I've been in a really difficult phase of undergoing a lot of tests to determine the character, extent, and location of the cancer. This was a surprise to me (and to my parents, who came out to NJ immediately and who have been living with me throughout this process). I sort of imagined that when you got the cancer diagnosis--which I did on January 24th at 11am when I was sitting in my office filling out a performance evaluation for my job at Princeton--they'd rush you off to an emergency room where they'd start treatment immediately. I definitely didn't anticipate having to schedule (a challenge in and of itself) and undergo so many tests and to have to wait, terrified, for each series of events. So far, this has been the hardest and worst part.

Being whisked off is more like what happens if your cancer is localized in the breast and associated lymph node. The big first question was whether the cancer was metastatic or not, which they found out with a CT scan that showed it, first, in my lungs. This was maybe the worst news of the whole thing because it meant that radical options to contain it (mastectomy, radiation) were out and that we had to do a bunch more investigating to figure out where the cells had hidden. There was a worry about my liver which showed a large mass that had been there since 2016 when I'd actually been tested for cancer--thanks to chronic fatigue and consistently elevated white blood cell counts--and come up clean. (Luckily the consensus is that the liver mass is benign since it "grew" only .7cm in 2 years, a possible measurement error.) This left the bone scan, which did show the tracer being absorbed, which led in turn to MRIs and a biopsy to confirm metastasis.

Every time I got a new result I learned that you really have to read the fine print when you wish to be exceptional. All of this is so statistically unlikely...and yet it's true.

All-in-all I had two biopsies of three tumors (breast, lymph node, soft tissue next to the spine), two mammograms, two CT scans, and three MRIs. This is in addition to office visits and blood work. I began working with a medical oncologist at Memorial Sloan Kettering (MSK) in Manhattan which brought me back to the city more times than since I left after college. It was looking like the only possible treatment option was single-agent chemo. Most clinical trials for TNBC require that you have been treated first. (I have "de novo" metastatic disease, meaning it had already spread when they first discovered it rather than that it was treated locally but spread anyway.) Others require hormonal receptor positivity. The few I was eligible for were often not enrolling.

However, thanks to the tireless research efforts of my dad, we found out about a clinical trial at the Dana-Farber clinic in Boston that I am potentially eligible to join. It's testing an immunotherapy agent that has already proved effective with TNBC with one chemo agent with a different one. (It actually just got approved by the FDA.) The only trick is that the way the immuno agent works requires that you have a specific protein (PDL1) to really see results. Essentially, one way cancer cells sneak around is switching off your immune system so it can't "see" that they are invaders. The turning off of the immune switch happens with a protein bond involving PDL1; the immuno agent being tested blocks that bond so that the "lights" stay on and the cells can't sneak around as easily. Clever! But if I don't have the protein it's not clear that either being in the trial or getting the now-FDA-approved treatment will benefit me more than single-agent therapy.

So that's the test it's all depending on right now. I should hear in the next couple days. If you want to send positive vibes and wishes and make sacrifices to your god(s) of choice, do it for PDL1 positivity. I feel discouraged, since I've been negative for everything so far, but these are all independent events.

I am also waiting for genetic testing to see if this is a germline mutation--like BRCA--that I inherited. This might affect future treatment and, if I did have one, could be good news because BRCA1 and BRCA2 are very heavily researched...in fact, when I worked in breast cancer research at Wash U Med School I was working with the BRCA lines. (For those who don't know, I started college wanting to go to med school--or at least get a PhD in genetics--so I spent 3 summers between age 16 and 19 studying breast cancer. It's equipped me well to have these discussions, though I certainly imagined being the doctor rather than the patient.)

There are three treatment options that I will (hopefully, hopefully) finalize soon.

I will have the PDL1 protein and will enroll in the clinical trial at Dana-Farber. This will require traveling to Boston every 3 weeks for intensive assessment and new rounds of chemo. The agent involved will make regular life a little rougher since it's by IV and only every 3 weeks. (And I might be in the control group, in which case I'd only be getting the chemo agent. I will, however, know which group I'm in.)

I will have the PDL1 protein and will receive the now-FDA-approved immunotherapy/chemo combination in Princeton with a local doctor and Dana-Farber only doing big-picture stuff.

I will not have the PDL1 protein and will receive single-agent chemo in Princeton, probably orally (twice a day) which is less intensively bad and more low-grade bad all the time. (There is, I guess, a kind of 3b. in which I decide to enroll in the trial even if I don't have PDL1 but it seems less likely.)

So, if you are keeping track of the big decisions that will allow me to actually, finally, begin actively fighting against this that's the last one. I appreciate all the notes that you've been sending so far. I get "message fatigue" but I see all of them and, in fact, have been saving all of them to look back on when things get even harder. So if you'd like to leave love and encouragement here too please know that I will see it and it will be helpful. I'm very unfortunate in this but incredibly fortunate in the number of people I have out there pulling for me and offering support.

Love to you all.

Site link

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

Hwæt: I’m Waging a Campaign

Hwæt. We Gardena in geardagum, þeodcyninga, þrym gefrunon, hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon.

So. The Spear-Danes in days gone by and the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness. We have heard of those princes’ heroic campaigns.

(Beowulf, trans. Seamus Heaney)

[I’m archiving this, from March 11th, here since I’ve decided to use a sideblog for cancer thoughts and updates.]

Hello friends,

I’m cross-posting this from a CaringBridge site that I could link to but which will reveal my secret IRL identity since the URL is my name for ease of finding! (I actually think that’s fine but, y’know, use the info respectfully since I have worked to have separation between my professional social media and my fandom social media.)

This is an introduction and update on how things are going with my breast cancer. I’ll do some cross-posting, but most updates will be on CaringBridge and, potentially, a sideblog here that will be less family-approved and/or full of reflections on the whole process. I’ll link you to that if I make one. [This is the sideblog.] Thanks for all the good wishes and the gentle hellos and the positivity. It has been sustaining and I am lucky in my friends and family here. 💜💜💜

(Author’s note! This is a long post with a fair bit of technical stuff that I find fascinating but don’t expect you to. It’s just hard to know how to catch you all up without going into detail but, if you like, feel free to skip to the last couple paragraphs.)

If you’re here that means you already know many of the basic info, which is that about 6 weeks ago I was diagnosed with triple-negative, metastatic breast cancer. It’s pretty nasty and aggressive and moved quickly from a large tumor in my left breast to my axillary lymph node to my lungs to the soft tissue next to my spine (with probable bone marrow involvement). It’s probably about 6-9 months old. I wasn’t looking for it since, at 34 with zero family history, I wasn’t even old enough for screenings. But genetic mutations come from somewhere and it looks like I am the mutation.

Is there good news? Not much. (Not yet.) The tiniest bit is that more aggressive cancers tend also to be more responsive to treatment. The fact that it’s triple-negative breast cancer (TNBC) means that the tumor is negative for the three types of receptors that can be used for additional therapies: progesterone, estrogen, and HER2. (A second test actually put my ER number at 20%…which sounds a little like me in general: although I seem very negative at second glance you’ll see that I’m about 20% positive.) It’s also negative for androgen. This means that the only potential kind of supplementary therapy that might help along with chemotherapy would be immunotherapy. I’m not a candidate for either surgery or radiation since the spread of the cancer is so pervasive and those are highly localized.

I haven’t started treatment yet. For these past weeks I’ve been in a really difficult phase of undergoing a lot of tests to determine the character, extent, and location of the cancer. This was a surprise to me (and to my parents, who came out to NJ immediately and who have been living with me throughout this process). I sort of imagined that when you got the cancer diagnosis–which I did on January 24th at 11am when I was sitting in my office filling out a performance evaluation for my job at Princeton–they’d rush you off to an emergency room where they’d start treatment immediately. I definitely didn’t anticipate having to schedule (a challenge in and of itself) and undergo so many tests and to have to wait, terrified, for each series of events. So far, this has been the hardest and worst part.

Being whisked off is more like what happens if your cancer is localized in the breast and associated lymph node. The big first question was whether the cancer was metastatic or not, which they found out with a CT scan that showed it, first, in my lungs. This was maybe the worst news of the whole thing because it meant that radical options to contain it (mastectomy, radiation) were out and that we had to do a bunch more investigating to figure out where the cells had hidden. There was a worry about my liver which showed a large mass that had been there since 2016 when I’d actually been tested for cancer–thanks to chronic fatigue and consistently elevated white blood cell counts–and come up clean. (Luckily the consensus is that the liver mass is benign since it “grew” only .7cm in 2 years, a possible measurement error.) This left the bone scan, which did show the tracer being absorbed, which led in turn to MRIs and a biopsy to confirm metastasis.

Every time I got a new result I learned that you really have to read the fine print when you wish to be exceptional. All of this is so statistically unlikely…and yet it’s true.

All-in-all I had two biopsies of three tumors (breast, lymph node, soft tissue next to the spine), two mammograms, two CT scans, and three MRIs. This is in addition to office visits and blood work. I began working with a medical oncologist at Memorial Sloan Kettering (MSK) in Manhattan which brought me back to the city more times than since I left after college. It was looking like the only possible treatment option was single-agent chemo. Most clinical trials for TNBC require that you have been treated first. (I have “de novo” metastatic disease, meaning it had already spread when they first discovered it rather than that it was treated locally but spread anyway.) Others require hormonal receptor positivity. The few I was eligible for were often not enrolling.

However, thanks to the tireless research efforts of my dad, we found out about a clinical trial at the Dana-Farber clinic in Boston that I am potentially eligible to join. It’s testing an immunotherapy agent that has already proved effective with TNBC with one chemo agent with a different one. (It actually just got approved by the FDA.) The only trick is that the way the immuno agent works requires that you have a specific protein (PDL1) to really see results. Essentially, one way cancer cells sneak around is switching off your immune system so it can’t “see” that they are invaders. The turning off of the immune switch happens with a protein bond involving PDL1; the immuno agent being tested blocks that bond so that the “lights” stay on and the cells can’t sneak around as easily. Clever! But if I don’t have the protein it’s not clear that either being in the trial or getting the now-FDA-approved treatment will benefit me more than single-agent therapy.

So that’s the test it’s all depending on right now. I should hear in the next couple days. If you want to send positive vibes and wishes and make sacrifices to your god(s) of choice, do it for PDL1 positivity. I feel discouraged, since I’ve been negative for everything so far, but these are all independent events.

I am also waiting for genetic testing to see if this is a germline mutation–like BRCA–that I inherited. This might affect future treatment and, if I did have one, could be good news because BRCA1 and BRCA2 are very heavily researched…in fact, when I worked in breast cancer research at Wash U Med School I was working with the BRCA lines. (For those who don’t know, I started college wanting to go to med school–or at least get a PhD in genetics–so I spent 3 summers between age 16 and 19 studying breast cancer. It’s equipped me well to have these discussions, though I certainly imagined being the doctor rather than the patient.)

There are three treatment options that I will (hopefully, hopefully) finalize soon.

I will have the PDL1 protein and will enroll in the clinical trial at Dana-Farber. This will require traveling to Boston every 3 weeks for intensive assessment and new rounds of chemo. The agent involved will make regular life a little rougher since it’s by IV and only every 3 weeks. (And I might be in the control group, in which case I’d only be getting the chemo agent. I will, however, know which group I’m in.)

I will have the PDL1 protein and will receive the now-FDA-approved immunotherapy/chemo combination in Princeton with a local doctor and Dana-Farber only doing big-picture stuff.

I will not have the PDL1 protein and will receive single-agent chemo in Princeton, probably orally (twice a day) which is less intensively bad and more low-grade bad all the time. (There is, I guess, a kind of 3b. in which I decide to enroll in the trial even if I don’t have PDL1 but it seems less likely.)

So, if you are keeping track of the big decisions that will allow me to actually, finally, begin actively fighting against this that’s the last one. I appreciate all the notes that you’ve been sending so far. I get “message fatigue” but I see all of them and, in fact, have been saving all of them to look back on when things get even harder. So if you’d like to leave love and encouragement here too please know that I will see it and it will be helpful. I’m very unfortunate in this but incredibly fortunate in the number of people I have out there pulling for me and offering support.

Love to you all.