#hate being chronically ill

[coolcataetheryte]

*sigh* so i missed the entirety of Auraugust. I really wanted to do some of them, but i ended up unable to get on much.. here's a previously unposted pic Phini anyway

[uriekukistan]

i have barely written today :/ need to get on that

[starry-bi-sky]

*stares at disciple SQQ falling into the abyss au*

oh you are so "SY-is-SJ" coded. You are so "fell into the abyss and suddenly remembered that oh i've been Shen Jiu this whole time, not just Shen Yuan. we are one and the same". you are so 'crumbling under the weight of the system and being in the abyss and the despair of never really being free and having suffered in both lives' built. you are so 'scrambling to come to terms with your existence and battling with which life is really yours, only to realize that they both are'. You are primed for going off the rails.

I'm so normal about this guys. i promise.

[gloomydiary]

life is overwhelming me

[disjournaled-scrolls]

Yesterday, when I was sleeping during a study hall at school, some kids I kind of knew (who KNEW I have a disability) took my cane and started swinging it around, using it like a bat, and playing with it. People assumed I'd given it to them, because when asked to stop, they said no and continued. By the time someone woke me up and told me, they had broken the wrist strap and were pulling apart the pole to stretch the folding elastic. They did not say sorry. They did not take responsibility. They simply gave it back after saying "look, did you know it could do this?" and stretching the elastic again. My friends reprimanded them, but now the wrist strap connection is broken and keeps falling off my wrist, putting me in danger.

The day before this happened, they had asked to hold the cane, and I said no.

Stop feeling entitled to touch people's medical aids. Stop acting like they're not really necessary or important. Stop fucking breaking our shit.

[crimeronan]

well. this Did just make me burst into tears. (which is probably good since i've needed to cry for days.)

yeah. yeah That's how it feels....

[chronic-lee-lizard]

Here are some filling foods for when you feel nauseous or not wanting to eat!!!

Eggs

Greek yogurt

Rice

Cottage cheese

Pastas (always a good option)

Chicken (maybe a plain rotisserie if you are needing something not overwhelming)

Potatoes, especially mashed

Soups, the broth helps :))

Overall anything protein-rich will help you feel full quicker. I know on nights when I’m feeling super nauseous but I know if I don’t eat it’ll get worse these foods have saved me lol.

[69constellationsinatrenchcoat]

Fun fact: the word 'chronic' means it's lifelong! and the phrase 'chronic illness' means I'm stuck with it until it takes me out, or I take me out. So, to the woman bothering me at a close family friend's funeral today about 'whether it goes away' can shut the hell up. Chronic means I'm stuck with it. Telling me I can think my way out of it when I have things physically wrong with my body will not do anything. No, it's not going away, and praying and trying to force me out of my wheelchair won't do jack-shit (except make me want to break your nose). Trust me, I have tried almost everything under the sun by now.

Besides, I've come to the conclusion if god/s exist, they decided I'm better used as a disability advocate than wasting their precious time on fixing the fact I'm in crippling pain constantly :DDD

[stropharian-world]

Hey everyone. Me and my family are facing some really tough times right now. With our elderly dog needing extra care and several trips to the vet, the bills are becoming impossible to sustain. And because no bad things comes alone, we're also dealing with medical, housing, and general life challenges, all which require money we simply don't have. So I've put on a donation goal on my Ko-fi for this month's veterinary treatment we can't pay. You can check it here: (I have the minimum at 1€, because any cent helps rn.)

[edit] Thank you friends who have donated. I know times are rough globally, and believe that I am extremely grateful for every single bit.

💜 Thank you for reading through this.

[lizzy-frizzle]

.

[olskuvallanpoe]

born to read, forced to be so fatigued that I can’t keep my eyes open even though I really want to read

[dilfmobius]

coming apart at the seams (lokius)

this is just something i wrote as a way to cope with the all the bad shit i've been feeling for the past few weeks (past several months really, but whose counting?), both physically and mentally. it's going to live here for now, not ao3, because it's really just 1,300 words of me projecting onto Loki. it's messy and maybe doesn't make a lot of sense, but i haven't had the spoons to write (or do anything really) and i need to release this. my body just feels like it's betraying me at every turn, and my mental health is all over the place (negatively).

anywaaaaay here's a snippet, the rest is under the cut:

“Maybe we should see someone,” Mobius says. “Like who? A midgardian doctor?” Loki balks at the thought. “And tell them what, exactly? That I had all of time woven through my entire being and it ate me alive? That everything hurts and my body doesn’t feel like my own, and I no longer feel a connection to my seiðr – oh, and by the way, I’m also a Norse God – got anything for me now?”

Loki sits hunched over the table, a mug of hot tea warming his hands. He takes deep breaths, focusing on the lavender and lemon balm filling his senses, pushing past the throbbing at the back of his skull.

It’s quiet and still, early morning light barely beginning to filter in through the window over the sink.

Loki hears faint footsteps approaching and lifts the mug to his mouth, blowing faintly before he takes a drink. It burns his throat going down and he squeezes his eyes shut, welcoming the heat as it travels to his belly.

It’s only when he feels Mobius’ hands on his shoulders that he drops them from under his ears.

He tilts his head back, resting against Mobius’ chest, and opens his eyes.

“Hey.” Mobius’ voice carries the smile in his eyes, soft and sweet. 

The corners of Loki’s mouth twitch in a pathetic attempt at smiling back, before his face drops back down into something a little less straining.

“You been awake long?” Mobius asks, rubbing his hands over Loki’s shoulders and upper arms.

“Mm,” is all Loki offers.

Mobius doesn't press. Instead he threads his fingers through Loki’s hair, gently massaging, hoping to pour every bit of comfort he can through his finger tips. Between the tea and Mobius’ skilled hands, Loki can feel his body relaxing, melting at the warmth.

“I’m going in today,” Mobius says softly. “Just some training B-15 wants me to be a part of. I  won’t be gone long.” 

Loki blinks his eyes open and stares up at Mobius, sensing the man’s hesitance to even mention work. After everything that happened, almost losing Loki to time, seeing how keeping the timelines together nearly destroyed the god, the last thing Mobius wanted was for Loki to go back to the TVA.

“It’s fine,” Loki says. “I’ll be fine.” He tries for a genuine smile, something to reassure Mobius that he won’t break apart while he’s gone.

Mobius bends down and presses a soft kiss to Loki’s forehead. They stay still for a little while longer, letting the songbirds outside their window fill in the silence.

When Mobius had brought up the idea of moving back down to the timeline, together, Loki was a mess. He insisted that he could still contribute to the important work they were doing. He could still be of use, and he wanted to be a part of the massive changes the TVA was undergoing. No one ever found out why time had spat him out, kicked him off his throne and back to the TVA, and it filled Loki with so much dread and guilt. Once again, that feeling of worthlessness – that he was never good enough – reared its ugly head. And the physical pain that had come along with it reminded Loki that he was only ever deserving of a life full of misery. 

Loki fought Mobius tooth and nail over leaving, accusing the man of coddling him and treating him like a child. Oh, Loki had been cruel and lashed out, in fear and pain. 

But Mobius, persistent and stubborn, would not let Loki wither away.

He had been a witness to Loki putting on a brave face, moving through the constant fatigue and pain, until he just couldn't anymore. Mobius had been there through sleepless nights, night terrors and flare-ups, and everytime someone mentioned how tired Loki looked only for Loki to brush it off and move on. 

A particularly bad flare-up had Mobius’ mind made up. Loki hadn’t been able to leave his bed for a few days, basic tasks damn near impossible without someone’s help. Mobius was always that someone, he was always there no matter what. As much as Loki was comforted by having him there, taking care of him, he couldn’t help the constant guilt and shame filling him up, wrapping itself around his bones and muscles along with the pain.

Mobius had declared that he was leaving the TVA and Loki was coming with him, whether he liked it or not. Loki didn’t have the energy to argue, and Mobius wasn’t particularly proud of how he brought it up, but after shedding many tears and finally drilling it into Loki’s head that there was no greater purpose for Mobius than to take care of the God of Mischief, the choice had been made.

Mobius thought being somewhere, anywhere, other than the TVA would help Loki heal. He had hoped that connecting back to his seiðr, his healing magic, would somehow fix everything. 

Oh, how wrong he’d been.

It’s been months and Loki was still plagued with nightmares, migraines, and aches that coursed through his body daily. 

They hadn’t talked about it, but Loki’s magic hadn’t made an appearance, and he had become an anxious mess, retreating into himself. Mobius would walk in on Loki desperately trying to conjure and cast, ultimately tiring himself out – emotionally and physically. It was hard enough to watch – Mobius couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Loki.

—

“Maybe we should see someone,” Mobius says.

“Like who? A midgardian doctor?” Loki balks at the thought. “And tell them what, exactly? That I had all of time woven through my entire being and it ate me alive? That everything hurts and my body doesn’t feel like my own, and I no longer feel a connection to my seiðr – oh, and by the way, I’m also a Norse God – got anything for me now?” 

“We could go to New Asgard –”

“Absolutely not – I doubt there would be anyone who could help me anyway.”

“Then we go to Asgard, before Ragnarok –”

“No, Mobius,” Loki says, shutting down any and all Asgard talk. He’s not ready for any of that. 

Loki pinches the bridge of his nose and sinks further into the pillows surrounding him on their bed, shame and guilt bubbling in his gut. He reminds himself that Mobius is only trying to help, to be supportive in a situation neither of them know how to navigate.

Mobius pushes away from his spot, leaning against the doorway to their bedroom, so he can join Loki. He replaces a few of the pillows with himself, nudging Loki over a bit (not that Loki was in any mood to protest), carefully slipping his arm around Loki’s thin waist. It doesn’t take much for Mobius to hoist Loki onto his lap, settling him in between his own legs, back to chest. 

Loki goes willingly, ignoring that voice in his head that tells him he wants to be left alone – he doesn't. He wants Mobius near him, he wants Mobius’ arms around him, to be held together by the love and grace of this one man. He might fall apart otherwise.

Loki allows himself this simple pleasure, to be enveloped by Mobius, swathed in a warmth he never thought he would be able to feel. He wishes this alone could heal him. Loki feels Mobius rest his chin on his shoulder, so Loki turns his head to nuzzle into the scruff on Mobius’ face. 

“You need to shave,” Loki says, plainly.

Mobius huffs out a small laugh, and returns the favor by rubbing his rough cheek against the much softer skin of Loki’s. Mobius tightens his grip around Loki’s waist, and Loki brings up a hand to run his fingers through Mobius’ hair.

Loki will let himself have this.

“What about the TVA?” Mobius asks, breaking the spell in the room. Loki groans. 

“And what, in all the nine realms, can the TVA do for me?” Loki asks.

“We can visit the medical wing, maybe they can do some scans – it seems like everyday they're figuring out something new, ways to treat all kinds of things – I don’t know…” Mobius trails off, only a little bit frustrated.

None of this is Loki’s fault, or anyone’s fault, they’re just playing the hand they’ve been dealt. And both Loki and Mobius are nothing if not adaptable.

Loki shifts and twists himself around to get a better look at Mobius, searching his face for… something. 

An answer or solution. 

Mobius always had an answer for everything.

Then again, so did Loki.

But all Loki finds when he looks into those clear blue eyes, past the fear and worry, is love.

His eyes begin to sting and he squeezes them shut.

“Okay.” Loki says.

“Okay.” Mobius replies.

[catwouthats]

I know even after I spell it out, yall won’t understand. But whatever. This is what it’s like for me to be disabled:

Not socializing to save energy

Not letting yourself fall in love to save energy

Not crying to save energy

Not having a social life

Not having a love life

Not having the ability to cry

Saving up energy for times when you have to face doctors

Saving up energy for times when you have to speak up for yourself

Saving up energy for emotional conversations

Never getting a diagnosis

Never getting listened to

Never getting to put your plans to actions

And when I get emotional about it, it’s on me.

I could have saved the energy I used for yelling for five minutes to go on a 5 day trip apparently.

Sure. That makes sense.

I have to keep repressing my emotions if they are draining me that much, even though I literally am getting more emotional and mentally unstable as my brain literally changes and even though I’m literally human and shouldn’t have to in the first place

But sure! That makes sense!

There is a difference between helping a disabled person get better and pushing them past their limits constantly to the point where you are abusing them.

Learn the difference.

Grow up.

Stop.

[panicismydefaultstate]

A little note for some partners, friends and family of people suffering from a mental or chronic illness- One of the most kind, supportive and loving things you can do is spend the time to educate yourself in better understanding what they are going through. Showing them that you care enough to spend time and energy reading up on how the illness works (and not just relying on stereotypical or general knowledge that can inadvertently be harmful) and different coping strategies/helpful management tips.

[theresstillgrowinghere]

Oh I am fucking angry.

Dr. Edwin Leap (yes, I will call you out by name because you published your bullshit online for the whole world to see), thank you for almost comedically illustrating why so many patients are afraid of doctors.

You do not ever get to think of your patients as other. They are your same flesh and blood; I don’t care how much you want to think of yourself as separate from those of us unwell. (I can tell how much disdain you hold for us just from this short article. We are failures, not good enough, not strong and morally pure like you are, hm?)

Healthcare can never, never, allow itself to other its patients. And yet, you publish an entire article calling sick people Homo infirmus and Homo fragilis? Your tone doesn’t come across very humorous, but even if it’s just supposed to be a silly little joke, explain to me why the fuck you think that would be okay.

Why the fuck would it be okay to say another person is not only not your same species but instead defined as other primarily by their illness?

And designated as such by you, a medical professional with direct influence on the lives and wellbeings of the very people you are dehumanizing?

Do you not see how terrifying that is? Do you not see why people would be afraid of you after just having read this piece?

And then you go on, boiling my blood:

“Homo fragilis, at least as a diagnostic category, begins earlier and earlier in life and often results not only in a tribe of people dependent on medications but also, ‘relying on the kindness of strangers.’ No, maybe better put, ‘demanding the kindness of strangers.’ These individuals require food, shelter, medication, affirmation, and often money from others because they cannot function in the wild. I’m not being mean; the causes are legion, from poor family structure to mental health challenges to social media.”

I cannot believe how many infuriating things you’ve said just in this paragraph alone, but I want to focus on the part that immediately washed me with deep shame. Unrightfully so. You have no right to make me feel ashamed, and yet, when you said “demanding” better captures my state of existence, it turned my stomach inside out.

Yes, I am disabled. I absolutely rely very heavily on other people. Yes, I require food, shelter, medication, affirmation, money. And so do you, christ. You aren’t better than us just because we need support from our communities. Getting support from those around us isn’t a crime, isn’t a wrongdoing, isn’t a moral failure.

You know what it is? Human.

Whether or not Margaret Mead actually said that a healed femur in recovered ancient remains was the earliest sign of civilization (we’re going to save the charged nature of this term for another time and for now just use it as a placeholder for consistent, steady, lasting community), there is a reason why people latch onto this story. There is a reason why it warms people’s hearts:

So many of us want to care* for people. So many of us want to have people care for us. So many people feel closer to others, to ourselves, to our own humanity when offering others care.

(*I am including all the vastly different ways we can show others care, love, support, respect, protection, encouragement, etc.)

And perhaps the most upsetting part is how close you are to understanding the problem while getting the most key pieces so, so wrong. You’re right, our current healthcare system cannot handle the amount of support patients need right now. But please, I beg you, could you consider for just one second that it is not the fault of the patients? Could you please not strip me of my humanity just because I need help to survive?

Fix the system. You’re right, there is a massive problem. But it’s not us. Next time you’re considering your “long-dormant zoology degree,” think twice and reflect a bit before publishing bullshit like this. Think about what it means to take care of those around you. Think about your own humanity.

[tenshi-agerasia]

my (belated) (re)submission for the ensemble stars 2023 bigbang (@enstarsbb)

i had the pleasure of drawing for "scattered feathers, new wings" by @chivalri_, a fic focused on wataru and his relations with the five eccentrics and eichi :) read the amazing fic by the equally amazing vari here!!

here's the accompanying animation meme/fanfiction trailer i made:

my etsy for the sticker/sticker sheets!

~ more sticker details at my shop ~

see you all next year!