#i need to change so much

[tamagotchikgs]

i need a reset & a refresh

[tos-and-her-musings]

thoracic outlet syndrome and my disordered eating

The very first word I learned in my family's native, immigrant tongue was "fat." ‘Fei’. My mother would point to a lady walking down the grocery store aisle as she muttered the word under her breath, ‘fei’, eyeing the layers of fat hidden beneath the cloak of her dress. This was later followed with, "If you ever look like her one day, I will lock you in a cupboard and starve you for a week."

I know that my mom was bullied for her weight, and she was trying to save me from the same torturous fate.

I learned that the greatest act of kindness I could receive was to be starved into being thin. That was how she loved me.

At age 12, I began my first year of high school. I stood in the changing rooms, my nervous, skinny knees shaking as I tried on my school uniform. My extra-small polo shirt drowned me, and my sports shorts were dangerously close to slipping off. The canteen worker huffed out a sigh as she examined me. “I’m afraid we won’t have anything that fits her; she’s just so petite.”

My mother smiled, looking almost proud. “No, i'll just have to take it in.”

I learned that the greatest compliment I could receive was to be so small that anything I wear can engulf me, to be so small that I’m invisible.

At age 14, my body changed. I developed breasts. I grew up a dress size. My mother would jokingly call me “solid.” Compliments about my petite frame began to fade. When I laid on my back and my tummy went flat, I could no longer see my bones. I didn’t know why that made me so anxious. I lost the special “thigh gap” I was told others were so envious of, that I got to have. I watched my mother bounce from fad milkshakes to diets, to gym classes and workout videos. I watched her break down and cry.

I kept growing. One night, my father took away my dinner as I was halfway eating. He said with a chuckle, “That’s enough for you.”

I learned that there was nothing more shameful than gaining weight.

At age 15, I failed mathematics. It was tragic really, considering that I came from a family of doctors and university graduates; intelligence was in our DNA. What was my excuse? However, my brain was filled to the brim with song lyrics and the injustices of human trafficking and caged chickens, and too busy analysing Sylvia Plath’s poetry. So as hard as I studied, when asked to ‘find x’ in this equation, I could do no more than simply point to the letter and say “there!”

That was not good enough for my family. They removed me from my public education, convinced that if I was given more structure, resources, and discipline, away from my friends and the teachers who supported me, I would get better. When that proved fleeting, they suggested I move out entirely and live with my sister, to finish school away from them. They couldn’t handle my teenage emotions anymore.

It did not cross their minds to tell me that it was not personal, that it didn’t mean they loved me any less as they sought to abandon me.

I learned that the complex, colourful array of angsty emotions following loss, is just too difficult and messy for others. Nice, neat, black-and-white numbers are much more desirable.

At age 17, I lost my friends.

As formal grew closer, I set my eyes on the one thing that could make things feel right: looking good in my formal dress. I began to count calories. It was kind of like a game. I couldn’t solve equations, but adding and subtracting I could do. 300-calorie chicken salad + 100-calorie muesli bar. Subtract 300 calories from my run this morning to make you feel good.

I tried to make the game more challenging. 1000 calories turned to 900, 800, then 700. By the time I got to 500, I was going to bed with a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon in my belly and waking up seeing stars.

By the time formal came, I weighed 35 kgs.

I learned that when life gets out of control, I can always, ALWAYS control my weight. I can always rely on calorie counting. And nothing feels as satisfying as being hungry.

It is no wonder that I spent the next five years of my life yo-yoing between diets. Riding that eating disorder rollercoaster, the highs with Mia and the plummeting lows with Anna. I learned that a combination of saltwater and ice cream can make you throw anything up. That downloading pictures of cakes and staring at them can be just as good as eating the real thing. I worked hard to excel in every aspect of my studies and my job. To make my parents proud. And when life got hard, I simply stopped eating.

It took years to break out of that habit. To learn that the greatest value I have in my body is the strength she has to run and take me to places. To value my health more than a number on a scale. I learned that my body was more than a vehicle for weight loss and self-destruction.

With my arms and hands, I learned how to play the violin and reach the most magical state of flow, where I not only stopped time but controlled time with every note I played. I could achieve the greatest highs by running and jumping and twirling in the air. With my body, I learned how to express love and joy. I learned how to make others laugh and cry from a stage in a packed theatre. I learned that my body was meant for more than to simply be skinny. It was meant for love.

I learned to nourish and fuel this body to sustain the health and strength she needed. I learned to eat intuitively. I stopped playing the numbers game and got rid of my scales. I exercised for fun and not for punishment. Most importantly, I found a career that could help me help others value the health and strength that their body has and to nurture it too.

Since being diagnosed with thoracic outlet syndrome and this disability, I have lost everything. My arms no longer have the strength to play music or create magic or communicate love or propel me to fly or make others laugh. If my body was a temple, it has been ravaged and desecrated in the most heinous way.

No punishment could ever fit the crime of what was done to me. And the worst part is, I did this to myself.

I used to channel all the focus, drive, ambition, and discipline I had with every calorie I counted, towards my goals and dreams, my ambitions, my talents, and my hobbies. The things that made me amazing. The things that made me belong. The things that made me real. There is nothing more painful than being forced to watch your temple crumble around you, bringing down with it everything you loved and worked so hard to build. It should come as no surprise that without these things to work towards, I started counting again.

I’ve lost weight again. I rediscovered old numbers again. Never mind the fact that I’m 2 kg away from being clinically underweight, my doctor seemed pleased when she saw my numbers. There is something about the ED diagnosis that stands out from every other clinical disorder we have in the DSM. It’s ego-syntonic for a reason. It’s really one of the only mental health disorders you can be praised (implicitly so) for having. My life is falling apart. But no matter, because according to everyone else, “I still look so good.”

I am diagnosed with a diagnosis that has no cure and a very poor prognosis and a treatment that might kill me, physically, psychologically, and spiritually, only to get a recurrence of this diagnosis again and again and again. Losing all control cannot begin to describe this feeling.

Somehow, I have convinced myself that everything will be okay, as long as I. Don’t. Gain. Weight. After all, I may be in a great deal of pain and unable to do anything that meant anything to me, but at least I have a hot body. That is what I am told. “You certainly don’t look like you’re unwell. You don’t look like you haven’t been able to work out. You look great.”

I want to scream.

I know I need to eat again to gain the strength to face the challenges ahead. But I can’t stop thinking… it’s bad enough that you have a disability, do you need to be fat too?

Nothing forces you to challenge every core belief you have and learn how to love yourself unconditionally more than gaining a disability can.

[ronanlynchbf]

tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

[eydilily]

took a stab at arcane style pearl and etho :J

this was supposed to be a quick(er) study but i ended up coloring it anyway !!! i personally prefer the original grayscale version over the colored ones (especially etho);;

[tubbytarchia]

I told you I never stop thinking about merpearl

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[clouvu]

Cooking up an older Clervie outfit design so I don't have to keep drawing her looking like her child self but Long

[kelin-is-writing]

How… Do I recover from this…?

[hinamie]

truth is, I used to dream about boys like you

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Heartfelt Reunion.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[sam-violet]

chillin in the hot springs 🌱

+ a closeup

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[labannori]

Ze guys,

Loser boy, Teenage Girl and ... Owl

[annomalysstuff]

I made a compilation of references for the main tmnt characters from every iteration and I thought it would be helpful, so I’m posting it here :]👍

I brightened the saturation in some so it’s more readable

Also, this is so cute, I’m keeping this

Edit: I forgot about bay Donnie, updated version

[reasonsforhope]

People ask me sometimes how I'm so confident that we can beat climate change.

There are a lot of reasons, but here's a major one: it would take a really, really long time for Earth to genuinely become uninhabitable for humans.

Humans have, throughout history, carved out a living for themselves in some of the most harsh, uninhabitable corners of the world. The Arctic Circle. The Sahara. The peaks of the Himalayas. The densest, most tropical regions of the Amazon Rainforest. The Australian Outback. etc. etc.

Frankly, if there had been a land bridge to Antarctica, I'm pretty sure we would have been living there for thousands of years, too. And in fact, there are humans living in Antarctica now, albeit not permanently.

And now, we're not even facing down apocalypse, anymore. Here's a 2022 quote from the author of The Uninhabitable Earth, David Wallace-Wells, a leader on climate change and the furthest thing from a climate optimist:

"The most terrifying predictions [have been] made improbable by decarbonization and the most hopeful ones practically foreclosed by tragic delay. The window of possible climate futures is narrowing, and as a result, we are getting a clearer sense of what’s to come: a new world, full of disruption but also billions of people, well past climate normal and yet mercifully short of true climate apocalypse. Over the last several months, I’ve had dozens of conversations — with climate scientists and economists and policymakers, advocates and activists and novelists and philosophers — about that new world and the ways we might conceptualize it. Perhaps the most capacious and galvanizing account is one I heard from Kate Marvel of NASA, a lead chapter author on the fifth National Climate Assessment: “The world will be what we make it.”" -David Wallace-Wells for the New York Times, October 26, 2022

If we can adapt to some of the harshest climates on the planet - if we could adapt to them thousands of years ago, without any hint of modern technology - then I have every faith that we can adjust to the world that is coming.

What matters now is how fast we can change, because there is a wide, wide gap between "climate apocalypse" and "no harm done." We've already passed no harm done; the climate disasters are here, and they've been here. People have died from climate disasters already, especially in the Global South, and that will keep happening.

But as long as we stay alive - as long as we keep each other alive - we will have centuries to fix the effects of climate change, as much as we possibly can.

And looking at how far we've come in the past two decades alone - in the past five years alone - I genuinely think it is inevitable that we will overcome climate change.

So, we're going to survive climate change, as a species.

What matters now is making sure that every possible individual human survives climate change as well.

What matters now is cutting emissions and reinventing the world as quickly as we possibly can.

What matters now is saving every life and livelihood and way of life that we possibly can.