#i take literally a minimum of 7 pills a day

[sachermorte]

Ok, so then who did you actually name yourself after? Or was it the vibe that drew you in?

i've gotten two anons about this since I last checked my phone so this is the real story.

it was the third week of september in 2019 and I had just launched myself out of the united states after living there my entire life and getting my bachelor's in linguistics summa cum laude. I knew if I stayed there any longer I was going to die, and I'd had this supernatural surety that I was going to live a full life in vienna since I was nine years old at the oldest, so against the vehement objections of family I had accepted a teaching assistantship position jointly facilitated by the BMBWF and Fulbright Austria. before I began my misadventures, of which there have been many incredibly crazy bullshit stories you would never believe in a million years, I had to attend a week-long sleepaway orientation in a tourist town in Salzburg called Zell am See, where I would meet the other TAs (including someone who remains like a brother to me to this very day), learn what was expected of me, and drink quite literally and without exaggeration for every waking moment.

believe me when I say that this was fucking wild. we had classes in the morning to teach us how to do our jobs but we were pouring full bottles of vodka and gin in our water bottles and taking it to class with us. one of the hotel receptionists started supplying us with weed and pills. people were hooking up left right and center. I ended up at one point being dragged away without any greetings or explanation to make out with a lovely but very drunk british girl named holly in another room. believe me when I said that not a single one of us drew a solitary sober breath for the entire seven days straight.

so because they wanted us to acclimate culturally (which is unneeded because I've always been a dramatic, cranky, whiny, pessimistic, ambiguously gay complainer genau nach wiener art), one night they brought in a trio of dance teachers to teach us some traditional folk dancing. so we, being generally hospitable and gregarious taken as a whole, decided to invite these three to party with us that night.

we.

got.

HAMMERED.

this is the drunkest I've ever been without having to go to the hospital. and as the night proceeded it became exceedingly clear that one of the dance instructors could not hold his liquor, and what's more, had been going through some stuff as of late.

cut to the end of the night. the man who is now like a brother to me had given the dude, out of the kindness of his heart, nearly a full bottle of 7€ hofer brand gin, which he drank without a mixer in nearly one go. shortly after, this man had punched through not one, but two windows. the police had been called, and a friend of mine had managed to grab his phone and literally call his mother. someone else was guarding him to make sure he didn't break anything else, while he kept shouting "MIR IST SCHEIẞEGAL, MIR IST SCHEIẞEGAL" to anything and everything that was said to him.

this event lodged itself solidly in my short term, long term, and everyday working memory. I thought about this three or four times a week at bare minimum. not only because I considered it rather embarrassing and distasteful, but because I thought if you were going to be a good for nothing dipsomaniac (as I considered myself to be as well, even then), there were far more stylish ways to go about it.

when my egg shattered during quarantine his name was the one that wouldn't leave my head. when I went public with my transition, I received several messages from friends who had witnessed the event in question, going "did you really name yourself after That Fucking Guy. why"

to which of course I responded "mir ist scheißegal"

[umichenginabroad]

Week 3: Discovering my Favorite City (after Prague) and the Healthcare System

Hallo!

The past week features quite the sudden shift for my apartment. We started off weak, literally, because almost everyone happened to get sick or injured. In Prague, hospitals are all in Czech, so a few required the assistance of our IFSA student experiences coordinator who joked that by the end of the semester he would have taken each of us to the hospital for something. However, by the end of the week we had recovered and were bumping to some of the coolest techno clubs in Berlin. For more on that and everything in between, keep reading!

Apartment 3 Navigates Healthcare

Whether it was a fever, cough, fatigue, or all of the above, my apartment was not doing well. It did snow for the first time which made for beautiful scenery but also increased our chances of catching a cold. I was the least sick in the group probably because I take Vitamin C pills every day and my immune system is currently strong from a previous recent illness. However, among clinic visits and pharmacy runs it was a tough week for my apartment.

On the bright side, we learned more about where to find medicine, healthcare, and support in Prague! For starters, the drugstore and pharmacy are two separate entities. The drugstore sells everyday products, like shampoo, toothpaste, paper towels, etc. while the pharmacies provide prescribed medications and over-the-counter medicines. They are also not open 24/7 like in the United States. Around midnight, I tried to buy Ibuprofen for my roommate with a fever and went to three different pharmacies with no luck. Everything was closed, so if you feel any sort of sickness coming on, make sure to buy medicine during the day!

Clinics in Prague are similar to that of the US, according to my roommate who went. She went with our IFSA buddy Marek who helped out even though clinics are likely to speak English (unlike hospitals). In terms of support, we realized that the IFSA program coordinators are there to help. They gave us a card with an emergency number that we used to set up a clinic appointment for one of my roommates, and we got into contact with Marek who took another roommate to the hospital for a sprained wrist.

Amidst the chaos, it was Isa's birthday and we had a reservation at Las Adelitas, a popular Mexican restaurant in Prague 1, but had to cancel. I figured we should still celebrate, so we Wolt-ed (Prague version of Doordash) the dinner to the apartment and had a lovely evening. Everything worked out smoothly and it was a sweet way to celebrate her while most of us were unwell. Additionally, since the apartment had lower morale this week I would slip away to new coffee shops for long periods of time between classes. I discovered a newfound love for matcha and picked up my sketching hobby again.

It was definitely an interesting week but we carry on!

Academics

This week's classes and workload have been more relaxed (thankfully), and my company project is currently on hold since our initial meeting is scheduled for next week. After that, I expect things to pick up as we plan and begin developing the MVP (Minimum Viable Product).

So far, my favorite class is Software Engineering. We're working in small groups to develop an application of our choice. With only twelve students in the class, divided into three groups, the professor takes a hands-on approach by incorporating feedback and notes on our projects directly into lectures. For example, Wednesday's class focused on prototyping, so he first introduced the concept and then provided tailored suggestions for each group. Then, for the latter half of class we started building a prototype for our own project.

This course feels more like an ongoing discussion rather than a traditional lecture, and the fast pace makes it feel like we'll end up with a fully developed, functional product by the end of the semester. My group's project is called travelog, a social media platform designed for travelers to log, review, and share their itineraries, destinations, and experiences. I'm excited about both the project itself and professor's teaching style!

Brr-lin

For the weekend, my Prague roommates met my Michigan friends in Berlin! This was a super fun crossover for me; there was some overlap because a lot of us are in the same professional frat (KTP shoutout) at Michigan, but also new friendships sparked since some of my roommates attend other universities.

We stayed at a hostel called a&o Berlin Friedrichshain. It was my first hostel experience, and I would highly recommend. We booked two separate rooms, one for 4 and one for 6, depending on whether we left Sunday or Monday. I have classes on Monday, so here I am back home in Prague writing this Sunday night while a group remains in Berlin. Our rooms were in the same hallway, and it was very easy to get around the complex with our keycards. Our rooms were surprisingly spacious, clean, and my four-person group was given a larger room with two bathrooms and six beds which was unexpected but nice.

On Saturday, we took on public transport to the city center and strolled through the Neues Museum, an interesting mix of art, sculptures, and archaeological relics featuring Egyptian, prehistoric, and classical works. We saw the iconic bust of Nefertiti from 14th-century BC which symbolizes the ancient Egyptian artistry and power. Afterwards, we stumbled onto an art market on the street, where I bought new silver rings, a unique postcard, and a cute set of salt and pepper shakers for the apartment. Rejuvenated with a warm latte and a wonderful snowy walk to the Berlin Cathedral, we headed to Dussmann das KulturKaufhaus, an iconic 5 story bookstore. With a selection as complete as that one, I could have stayed in that bookstore for days, but we had a dinner reservation and I settled for two hours of meandering around. We dined at Hofbräu Wirtshaus Berlin, where I enjoyed a pretzel, schnitzel, and my favorite beer, the Hofbräu Dunkel. There was live music, traditional decorations, and a huge table for my group which made for an amazing dining experience. Our train for Sunday was around 5 PM, so we went to the Berlin Wall and another vintage street market where I bought a sweater and pair of sunglasses. Much of the Berlin Wall is now covered in colorful and moving graffiti, a fascinating blend of history with modern expression.

Coming into the weekend, I was very excited for Berlin’s legendary techno scene. Rooted in the fall of the Berlin Wall, techno became a symbol of freedom and unity in the 1990s. We went to two different clubs and they definitely lived up to the hype.

A quick note I would add about the trip is that I did not have service after leaving the Czech Republic due to my SIM card that I had bought at a Vodafone in Prague. So I was completely phone-less because I also forgot to bring my charger to Berlin. Thankfully I had my wallet and friends to rely on, but I learned a new lesson to bring my old SIM card and turn on roaming next time I’m out of the country or to at least be aware of the situation before arriving to a new country and have no service. Because of this, I have less pictures to show off this week, but that doesn’t make the experience any less meaningful. I’d recommend Berlin to everyone, just come with an open mind.

Danke for reading,

Natalie

[heartshattering]

Wtf even was last night? I couldn't sleep until after 7 AM and it was only because I took another half of my prescription sleep pill, otherwise I'm sure I would've made it to 24+ hours no sleep (I was full of non-stop anxiety) and I would've kept doing the compulsive behavior I do specifically at nighttime/early morning before I sleep that keeps me out of bed for hours.

I am just feeling bad all over and I'm not even sure where to start or what to do. Dealing with my mom is a pain, she's definitely what set me off last night, but there's way more to it than just that. She was the final push for me last night when it came to S-H-ing but there's been a lot making me feel disgusting and terrible and too overwhelmed to exist.

I don't like my environment and I really need a clean and organized space, but this is one of those cases where traditional cleaning advice isn't really helping much... like I'm sorry but putting on happy music to clean my room isn't going to make me feel any better when the sight of all the piles of clutter in my room literally makes me freeze up and just want to vomit on my floor. I don't even know how to begin tackling it.

My schedule is all messed up and I know I'm not living "right". I'm taking more pills for sleep and stomach issues and chronic pain than I usually need to take because my anxiety and insomnia have been skyrocketing which affects me physically too, and even then, I'm still having a ton of trouble with functioning, even at the bare minimum.

I really feel like a zombie. I'm wrecking my insides (as if gallstones weren't bad enough) and it feels like I'm literally poisoning myself. I'm not "abusing" meds (I'm not taking more than what's prescribed to me or getting high from them or anything, I write down everything I take to make sure I'm not taking too much, even OTC meds and vitamins, and I check medication interactions if I'm ever unsure about anything... better safe than sorry). But at one point I was weaning off my meds so it sucks being back on the full dose and still sleeping like utter shit thanks to my anxiety being so severe. I had a (shitty) psychiatrist I only saw one time who told me I wouldn't be able to sleep without shooting horse tranquilizers into my veins and tbh every day it feels more and more true.

I have headaches, fatigue, pain, and stomach problems every day. I'm trying to push through and do things that would maybe help be productive but I never feel comfortable. There's been at least 3 days this month where my panic has made me feel like I'm physically dying.

I really need help, I realize that I do. This is too much for me to handle on my own and I've tried to reach out before but I always get pushed away. I really do feel like one day I'll just randomly drop dead like the nurse told me. I'm handling things so badly and not coping well but I just don't know how to balance every single thing at once with no help from anyone at all and while feeling both mentally and physically sick all the time.

I can't stick to routines, I have a million things I need to do, and all I end up doing is panicking and taking pills and getting yelled at by my mom. I don't know how to deal with things in a "healthy" way anymore and it's like watching a car crash happen before my eyes.

[slewerside-watch]

Bells Palsy

That is all.

Jk but I wish it was.

I looked in the camera today on my phone. My face is sagging more and more by the day. It's awful.

The left side of my face can still blink but it's getting harder and harder to close my eyelid.

When I sleep I almost have to do it with one eye open because I can't sleep when I'm focusing so hard to keep it shut.

It's only been a week and I'm so tired of this. It's supposed to last 3-6 months minimum and sometimes permanently.

I can't do this that long. I've lost 13 pounds now and I'm so sick of it. Literally SICK of it.

It hurts to breathe to eat to smile.

I've been leaving the living room when my dog plays because I don't want to laugh because it hurts so fucking bad.

I've never been so thankful to be depressed. Smiling makes me want to slit my throat.

And my throat doesn't work either. I can't swallow my pills for my anxiety and depression because half the time it gets stuck in the middle of my throat. And half of my throat is paralyzed so I have to eat and drink like a pig to get it unstuck while it dissolves and tastes nasty. And that defeats the whole purpose of the ibuprofen I'm taking because it just makes it hurt more.

FML!

Why can't I have a paralyzed or week foot? Crutches are acceptable. I look like a fucking zombie with a melted face.

I hate it. It's disgusting. I had to cover my mouth with a napkin to eat super tiny piece of meat that hurt so bad to chew I didn't eat anymore.

But it was falling out of my mouth while I tried to chew on the right side because the left won't fucking move.

I have to rinse my mouth out after every meal which is bs because I can't move the water in my mouth.

It hurts.

I'm tired.

I'm depressed.

And I've never been happier to not want to smile.

Z.L.H. 7/25/2023

[trashbwc]

Dan might have had his week in march,

But i have my week in november [except that i take all the medication that i would otherwise never taken at once]

[crushaa]

Explaining the long break and how I got diagnosed with ADHD:

This is a post about mental health. There’s a TLDR at the bottom :) 

“Apply yourself, Cien. If you wanted to pass this class, you would be trying.” 

When I was 15, I got my tonsils out. I got the same kind of statement from a few friends and even family members; “Oh yeah, they used to take EVERYONE’S tonsils out! Even if they didn’t need it, it was the cure to everything. But now everyone’s got ADHD, so that’s the new trend.” 

Around the end of July 2019, I was running out of steam. I still had plenty of creative energy, but I couldn't understand why I wasn't able to work on anything anymore. The truth is that I knew I would hit another music block, and I wouldn't be surprised if anyone else expected it too. My posting history has always been very irregular, even back in high school with long unexplained breaks in between new songs. Knowing it would happen, I felt confident in my ability to tackle it and change my pattern of behavior.

I never thought it would last this long. With each month passing by I began to feel guiltier and guiltier, trying to find out why I couldn't do it. I'd sit in front of an empty FL Studio project for hours, and all my Paint Tool Sai canvases never had more than a few lines.  As the months went on, some pretty dramatic life events took place- various family deaths, 2 near death experiences myself, an abusive doctor. For whatever reason, I just could not recover. 

I used the tragedies as excuses as to why I couldn't do it. It would be reasonable to not be able to do anything. My antidepressants were definitely working for the first time in my life, but why couldn’t I work? I spent the New Year holiday feeling just as guilty and frustrated as ever…. I couldn’t do it anymore. I decided that I was going to go back to my doctors loaded with new theories and ideas as to what could possibly be wrong with me. It never occured to me to tell anyone I couldn’t write more than 2-3 songs in one year when it’s literally my job to write music. 

I began speculating the possibility of another psychiatric disorder, and that made me nervous. Would she think I was lying? Or faking it? I could no longer stand the treatment from the nurse practitioner who had been treating my psychiatric illnesses. I’d always been very uncomfortable with how she treated me, but she’d found the rare genetic disorder I had. I felt that I owed my progress to her and that I should stick it out. But I was still leaving her office in tears at the end of every session. An off color comment, passive aggressive reminders to take my medication, the feeling that I had no say in my own treatment plan… it was too much.  But she was the only one in town who was available to see me. So I went, and I was administered an MMPI by a psychiatrist in that same building. At the end of February, I’d get the results.  

The next appointment with her was the last time she’s ever going to see me. The results of the test had come in as inconclusive, and my world fell apart. She asked what I thought of the results, and I answered truthfully. I told her I was afraid that she saw me as a hypochondriac. 

“Well what if you are?” I didn’t answer. “Well, you are,” she went on with a cocky smile. 

She began to tell me it was my own fault. She told me I had brain damage. But it was fine, because she told me I could be treated for believing I was still sick. 

It affected me deeply, for days I couldn’t stop crying or eat a full meal. The guilt, frustration and embarrassment swallowed me whole; the problem was me. Of course I was making it up. I felt suicidal for the first time in 4 years. There was no point in trying anymore because I as a whole was defective. This world would be better off without a lost cause like me. 

I pulled myself out of this headspace for a while one day, and realized that a HEALTH CARE PROVIDER made me feel this way. 

WHERE WAS THE BRAIN SCAN, BITCH????

 All the guilt, embarrassment, shame- it morphed into a new red hot burning rage. I fired her immediately and revoked any permissions she had. I went to my primary care doctor and asked him to prescribe me my psychiatric medications while I looked for a new psychiatrist, to which he agreed. I asked him for an ADHD test, but he wasn’t comfortable doing it himself. He referred me to a psychiatrist with a 6 month waiting list who then tried to refer me to the abusive nurse practitioner. I set up the six month appointment wait and began to look into doctors in other towns.

On Monday, April 6th, I went to go see a different doctor for something completely unrelated and walked out with an ADHD (Inattentive type) diagnosis. And now less than a week later, everything about my life has changed. 7 long months of executive dysfunction came to an end in the 1 hour it took for the first half-pill to dissolve. Hot damn. 

It felt like everyone else in the world was allowed to use the sidewalk to get from place to place, but there was a rule that I had to dodge incoming traffic to get anywhere. Now, I can use the sidewalk too. I am relearning everything that I know. 

I am no longer ashamed that I have the GPA of a baked potato. I know that I am not lazy, I am not stupid, and this was NOT my own fault; I was sick and nobody knew. The signs were there, but how we view ADHD has changed entirely since I was a child! People still called it ADD. So why was it so hard to get diagnosed in this day and age?

The stigma has shifted into something far more dangerous than I’ve ever realized it was. I don’t hear “I have ADHD OO SHINY” jokes anymore, you know? We believe it to be a grossly overdiagnosed behavioral disorder meant to punish children for having a lot of energy. We wave it off, calling it the new tonsil removal surgery trend. Of the three types of ADHD; Predominantly Hyper-Impulsive, Predominantly Inattentive (that’s me!), and Combined Type; a mix of the two, there tends to be more stigmatized attention towards the hyper-impulsive type. We believe in what we see, breaking the first rule of mental illness: Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there. 

This leaves those suffering from both inattentive type and combined type to rot. Attention deficiency itself doesn’t have much of a stigma because it isn’t even seen as having a seat at the ADHD table. This is catastrophic and will continue to destroy lives because people don’t feel hyper enough to even consider that they might have ADHD. In turn, those who are told to try harder, apply themselves, stop procrastinating, and to stop being so lazy do not receive the proper care they need. Those who suffer without treatment get worse over time; they lose confidence in themselves, they don’t start new things in fear of the inability to finish, they break promises to friends and family with the inability to follow through, damaging important relationships beyond repair. 

My confidence has been shattered. I was the artist who failed art class. College was never an option because I knew I’d go straight back to failing every class I took. I feel like I am a burden and the token “lost cause” of my family, the one everybody worries about because I’m not right in the head. I’ve grown to become a reclusive, bashful adult who struggles to make and answer phone calls and emails. ADHD devastated my life in deeper ways than my OCD, my PTSD, my anxiety or depression ever could. 

The number of diagnoses are going up because we can recognize it better. This is not a bad thing- science is evolving to show possible causes of the disorder itself. We know not to smoke while pregnant anymore, we know not to eat and drink high fructose corn syrup, we know not to sit in front of blue light screens all day, and we’ll continue to learn.

As soon as I started my medication, I was able to start taking care of myself and working again. The symptoms of my other mental illnesses began to let up, and I felt like a human being for the first time in my life. I have control over my own emotions- I can walk on the sidewalk with everyone else, I am free. 

However, it’s going to take the rest of my life to unlearn the methods I came up with to perform basic self-care functions. It will take many years to gain confidence in myself, to make phone calls without shaking or to even consider the thought of college, potato grades and all. But my mindset has transformed from “I can’t” to “Maybe I could try,” --a first for me. 

Question everything, don’t settle for the minimum, and don’t stop fighting. Thanks for reading this post. I'm hard at work on Propaganda part 2 and hope to post it on May 31st. See you then :-) 

TLDR: ADHD destroyed my life in ways my depression, anxiety and other mental illnesses never could. The stigma surrounding ADHD is shifting to become more dangerous than it has been in the past.  

We live in a society.

[yallreddieforthis]

Impossible Things

Fandom: It Chapter Two, It (2017)

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Rating: Explicit (in later chapters)

Words: 1.9k

Also on AO3

“What the fuck,” he mutters, trying his key one more time. His therapist always says he’s too quick to jump right to the doom and gloom. Maybe he didn’t get evicted all of a sudden. Maybe he just put the key in upside down or… Nope. His key straight up does not work.

And then suddenly the door swings open and Richie whacks him in the shoulder with a frying pan.

August 7, 2013 was the worst day of Eddie Kaspbrak’s life. He got dumped on a breakfast date by this guy he was kind of very into at the time, he totaled his brand-new Dodge Dart...by hitting a cop car, spilling iced coffee all over himself in the process. And that was just before work.

When he got to work, he was informed by fucking Claudia of all people that his favorite patient who was supposed to make a full fucking recovery had died during the overnight shift. He spent the rest of the day completing paperwork for his now-deceased buddy over in 44G, and playing a super fun game ferreting information back and forth between one of the endocrinologists--who was on a cruise with almost no reception--and her crazy bitch of a patient who insisted that Dr. Google told her she could cure her diabetes with a combination of like six essential oils and lemon juice. And also fighting over the phone with Marcus from Geico. Fuck Marcus from Geico and his manager Suzanne.

Anyway, yeah, that day was fucking nothing compared to this Saturday, when he went back to his shitty ass hometown, watched the first guy he ever loved die in his arms and then wiggled out the back door of a collapsing house containing all his childhood friends.

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t completely processed the awfulness of the whole thing yet. He’s done a decent amount of crying, but like… God, where to even begin? There’s literally no one alive who he can talk to about what he went through. The idea of keeping all this shit to himself for the rest of his life makes him want to consider pulling a Stan. Not that he ever would, actually. Because he’s a stubborn bitch, and when life tells him to go fuck himself, he usually just yells it right back.

Also he got stabbed in the fucking face by Henry Goddamn Bowers. And like, Ben did a decent job patching it up with gauze and superglue, but Eddie hauled ass to Urgent Care and got some actual stitches once he realized there was nothing else he could do at Neibolt. He’d been a fucking mess...like, crying and shit, but even in that state he could tell that the standard of care at Derry Clinic was subpar at best and he kept having to correct the NP who was sewing him up until she finally snapped and asked if he’d rather just do it himself. Actually, he normally would have preferred to, but his hands had been shaking too badly. He definitely plans to have it looked at by Dr. Lim, who will for sure know the best way to keep scarring to a minimum, as soon as he’s back at work.

Also, he was hoping that all the weird shit that had been going down with Pennywise and stuff would have fucking stopped after they killed It, but when he got back to the Derry Townhouse and went to get his shit from his room, there were three goddamn suitcases in there and he couldn’t figure out why. The first one had enough crap in it for like a three week trip, although the clothes weren’t all his. Also, the second one was filled with a bunch of pill bottles with his name on them for prescriptions Eddie has never needed, and his actual medication, amitriptyline, was not among them. But to be totally honest, by that point, he was so fucking tired and upset that he just kind of went fuck it and hauled everything into the back of a cab and got the fuck out of there.

And now he’s standing on the curb at LAX waiting for an Uber to take him back to his apartment in West Hollywood, where he can cry in private and maybe eat a pint of frozen yogurt from Whole Foods. Greek yogurt, of course, for the probiotics.

The first thing that strikes him as amiss back in LA is when he gets up to his apartment and there is a mat that says WELCOME TO THE SHITSHOW on it that he definitely did not buy in front of his apartment and his list of instructions for delivery men has been taken off his door.

Then he tries to open the door and his key doesn’t fit, which makes no fucking sense at all, unless Ms. Slavkin changed the locks while he was gone, which would be super illegal and also mean. Like, they’re on good terms, he thinks, especially since she barely speaks English and he knows exactly no Russian. They’ve never had a problem, though. His rent is always paid up on time. She brought him vatrushka two weeks ago and he referred her grandson for a volunteer position at Cedars Sinai over the summer. They’re good.

“What the fuck,” he mutters, trying his key one more time. His therapist always says he’s too quick to jump right to the doom and gloom. Maybe he didn’t get evicted all of a sudden. Maybe he just put the key in upside down or… Nope. His key straight up does not work.

And then suddenly the door swings open and Richie whacks him in the shoulder with a frying pan.

“Ow! What the hell?”

Literally everything about what just happened is impossible though, because Richie is:

Dead. He died in Eddie’s arms under the Neibolt house less than 48 hours ago after telling him he fucked his mom one last time for good measure. Like...even while he was bleeding out he couldn’t… God. Anyway…

A resident of Illinois, last time Eddie checked. He even said some shit the other day about security at O'Hare. That’s… that’s the one in Chicago, right? It’s not LAX, Eddie knows that for sure.

Richie looks about as dumbfounded as Eddie feels. He does not apologize for hitting Eddie with a frying pan, although it’s not exactly cast iron. At best, it’s aluminum.

Which is another weird thing. Eddie uses exclusively cast iron or enamel cookware in his apartment because he’s not some kind of idiot sauteing his veggies in perfluorinated chemicals. The frying pan Richie is holding right now is undoubtedly riddled with BPA that would seep into his food and cause thyroid problems.

And honestly the only reason he’s probably getting hung up on that is that he expects Richie to disappear as soon as he blinks, because what the fuck would he actually be doing here. It’s going to hurt a lot more than that frying pan did when he evaporates, and Eddie’s going to feel like he lost him a second time.

Any second now.

Nothing else happens though, except that Richie manages to squeak out, “Eddie?”

And it’s corny to think, but it’s his voice that leaves no doubt in Eddie’s mind that it’s really him. Because Richie Tozier can sound like almost anybody in the world, but there’s no one that can sound like Richie. Even Pennywise never tried to imitate him. Because no one can. That, Eddie is sure of.

Dead is… Eddie is a nurse, and he’s no stranger to death. Richie was dead. No one could survive that kind of blood loss. But that also doesn’t change the fact that Richie is standing in front of him, in his apartment somehow, alive and breathing and miraculously free of giant holes in his chest. Also, this past weekend has had Eddie really rethinking his personal beliefs on what is and isn’t possible.

“Oh god, Richie—” Eddie reaches out and places a hand on Richie’s chest. Richie doesn’t stop him, but he also doesn’t react other than staring at Eddie’s hand, like he’s still unconvinced that Eddie is really Eddie.

Also he’s apparently speechless for the first time in his life.

“What the fuck,” he breathes out. His heartbeat is pounding beneath Eddie’s fingers. “I… we had to leave you. God, I tried to—”

“What?” Eddie interrupts him. “You died. Right in my arms, like, right in front of my fucking face and then you all got sucked into that pit and I—”

“What? No. Wh--wait. Wait wait wait. How did you find my apartment?” Richie demands.

“Uh, excuse me, this is my—”

But Eddie doesn’t finish that sentence because at that moment he looks past Richie into the living room and his point dies on the tip of his tongue. This is not his apartment. The doormat wasn’t lying. This is some kind of bachelor pad nightmare. One sofa, no art on the walls, a TV that’s too big for the room. Eddie glances up at the number on the door. Seven. It’s the right number, the outside of the place looks right… 

“What did you do to my house?!” Eddie cries, because of course he’s happy Richie is alive—too happy to even process it properly—but he’s not going to pretend he won’t be pissed if Richie donated all of his good Pottery Barn furniture.

“Your— I live here, dipshit,” says Richie, apparently kind of snapping out of it. “I’ve lived here for like ten years.”

“You told me you lived in Chicago and—”

“Yeah,” says Richie. “Well, like kind of. I have an apartment there, usually sublet it. Didn’t think I needed to get into my whole real estate history, cause it’s not like we had bigger things to worry about.”

“Just—”

“You know what?” says Richie. “Just fucking come in. Let’s...can you call Mike?”

“Mike isn’t dead either?!” Eddie cries. What--How--

“Of course not,” says Richie. “I mean he better not be, I’ve been texting him all day.”

Eddie takes his phone out of his pocket and goes to his recent call history. He taps on the Derry number that called him the other day, back in another fucking lifetime, while rolling his suitcase into this like sham of an apartment that apparently Richie lives in. 

We’re sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialed…

“You try Mike,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “My phone says his number is disconnected.”

Richie is texting furiously. He sinks down into the couch.

“Does that thing have like bed bugs?” Eddie asks, because the couch looks kind of suspect if he’s being honest. Like the kind of thing Richie might have dragged in off the sidewalk.

Richie makes a face. “No, what the fuck, of course not.”

Eddie sits down next to him on the edge of his seat, still not entirely convinced about the bed bug situation.

“I’m gonna FaceTime Mike, cause…” Richie shakes his head. “Fuck, I don’t know. Mike’s the crazy bitch with all the answers, right?”

Richie then does something kind of un-Richie-ish. He turns to the side and drops his head on Eddie’s shoulder, inhaling shakily and deeply. It’s then that Eddie notices his coffee table is littered with tissues.

“What?” Eddie asks him. He gets the distinct impression that Richie is about to cry, maybe, which is terrifying. And that’s stupid because Eddie works in a goddamn hospital. He deals with crying people every day. But there’s something about being around Richie that just… He feels like they’ve fallen back into the dynamic they had when they were kids. And teenage Eddie wouldn’t have known how to deal with Richie crying and so adult Eddie is kind of panicking over the thought of trying to figure that shit out on the fly.

If Richie starts crying, Eddie probably will too. This situation is… Honestly, it’s super overwhelming. He doesn’t feel equipped to deal with this fuckery.

Just then though, Mike picks up. Like a flash, Richie lifts his head up off Eddie’s shoulder and shoots Mike a shit-eating grin.

“Explain this shit, Mikey,” he says, and turns the screen to face Eddie.

Mike immediately drops his phone.

[roswelldetails]

RNM 2x07 - Como La Flor

Apologies for being so late this week!! Lots of translating to do, and research. Mucho gracias to @queenrikki for reviewing this one for me!

EPISODE SUMMARY:

OLD WOUNDS — Liz (Jeanine Mason) is forced to revisit a painful part of her past when her mother Helena (guest star Bertila Damas) shows up at the diner unexpectedly. Michael (Michael Vlamis) urges Maria (Heather Hemmens) to seek help after she experiences a strange vision, and Kyle’s (Michael Trevino) attempt to get Steph (guest star Justina Adorno) to open up doesn’t go as planned. Finally, Helena’s arrival in Roswell sends Rosa spiraling. Nathan Dean and Lily Cowles also star. Barbara Brown directed the episode written by Danny Tolli & Carolina Rivera (#207). Original airdate 4/27/2020. 

DETAILS:

Max and Isobel both describing to Rosa how it feels to use (and control) your powers.

Isobel:

"Ground your intention.  Feel the current running through your body, your hands guiding it with purpose."

Max:

"Okay, draw energy from your spine…"

Arturo on Rosa:

"I heard a little mouse crying in her room this morning."

Escamoles - like Liz says in the episode, they're ant larvae. One article I found called them "the Caviar of the Mexican desert". 

Helena calls Liz "mi corazón", which means "my heart".

"Arturito, te ves bien."

Arturo, you look good.

Adding "ito" to someone's name in Spanish can both be positive or negative.  It can refer to smallness or also tenderness (like an affectionate pet name).

@tasyfa pointed out that there was a little timeline error in this scene.  Arturo says that he hasn't seen Helena in 7 years, since Jim Valenti's funeral, but last season it was established in 1x12 that Valenti died in 2014.  Also, remember the show is a year behind reality right now, so it's still 2019. So off by 2 years.

The reason for Helena's visit - transferring her ownership of the Crashdown for Liz so that Liz can sponsor Arturo's residency for citizenship. I did a lot of research trying to understand and clarify why this is.  Thanks to those who weighed in when I was struggling to find a clear answer. Eventually I reached out to Define American, the non-profit org that provides support to the show on racial and immigration related issues.  Here's the response:

The short version is that Liz has to meet minimum income requirements in order to sponsor Arturo, because she has to be able to certify that she can financially support him.  Since she's currently unemployed except for the Crashdown, transferring half of the ownership to her makes her a business partner and helps her to meet the income requirements. 

The Spanish:

"¿Cuánto quieres, Mamá?" 

How much do you want, Mama?

"She has a very thoughtful manicure."

If you don't understand, it's cool. I'm not going to explain here.  Feel free to DM me though! I won't judge, promise!!

Narrative thread about Max's nightmare/memory continues from 2x03 and 2x06.  Don't forget that 2x03 was just Isobel remembering it. Max was a hallucination. So when he brings it up here, it might be something they haven't discussed in a very long time.

The Spanish from Rosa on her red jacket:

"Eres una mujercita."

Basically translates to you're a little woman or young woman.  I assume the "cita" is supposed to be diminutive here.

"Mom is an opportunist.  If she found out she had a kid who came back from the dead she would use you to get to Anderson Cooper. And then she'd use him to promote her latest lounge singer gig."

"Isobel pays double.  Becky tax." 

A Becky, according to common colloquial use, is an annoying white woman, usually entitled and privileged.

Lead bartender quit..meaning there's a job opening at the Pony…hmm. Wonder if any of our characters need a job... 🤔

Maria's vision:

Michael drops the change

Flash to Kyle dropping his keys & bending down to pick them up.

Kyle staring into a bright light.

Maria shouting his name.

"My heart was broken.  Liz ended things and a part of me died."

Max's story to Valenti… not all THAT far off from the truth.

Note: has anyone told him about Valenti investigating him? We know Liz and Isobel were questioned.  Michael was present when Liz was questioned. Kyle knows the whole theory his mom was pursuing. And he just wanders in there like nothing happened?

"Try leading several short staffed investigations with the mayor breathing down your neck."

Another subtle reference to the mayor, including the election banners hung around town in S2 and his "anti-immigrant agenda" which was referenced in S1.

Max has been with the department since he was 18 - this is the first time we learned that.  In 2x05 we learned he was there at 21. So that timeline has now been further clarified. Which also means he was hired during Jim Valenti's time as Sheriff.

"I need eyes on you at all times now."

Definitely implies a lack of trust, or possibly still wanting to keep an eye on him for the purpose of her investigation (not a fact, just a theory).

Steph tells Kyle that she's always hanging around the hospital because she's doing admin work for her dad.

"I'm starting to feel like you're a ghost who only I can see."

"Ask them if they can see me. Or if you were just talking to a ghost." 

Note that ghosts have been a running theme this season with Rosa returning from the dead. This seems to be in line with that. Or are they subtly tying Steph to Rosa (I'm grasping at straws here, probably).

Liz leaves the safe on 3...but before she changes it is on 81. Helena leaves it on 78 after stealing the ring. Good continuity, RNM!

The whole "my mom hates cops" theme is a little confusing to me.  I mean, it makes sense given what we know about Helena. Except that she had an affair with Jim Valenti, who was… a cop. And also an addict.  Maybe it was different because they rehabbed together (just an assumption, not a fact). Or maybe the Jim experience contributed to her dislike of cops.

Liz...might be grasping at straws when she refers to police work as "something you love" to Max.  He didn't exactly seem enamoured by the job when we first met him in Season 1.

First time we learn Max and Isobel's father's name. And it is… Dave. 🤔

The Spanish Helena uses when she meets Max:

"Pero que guapo estas."

But how handsome you are.

"Cuidado Arturito."

Careful, Arturo…

Helena found Liz and Diego's wedding registry online. 

“Look there are medical reasons for non-drug-induced hallucinations - epilepsy, schizophrenia…”

“My mom has a degenerative brain disease. My grandma did too. I've always known I'd be next.”

Helena wanted to be Selena.

Which fits with Liz's lounge singer comment earlier.

And the "drunkenly singing in the car with your daughters in the backseat" fits with the story Liz and Rosa discussed in 2x02 about the car accident they got into as kids with Helena driving drunk.

Helena shows Liz her ten years sober chip, suggesting that she's been sober since Rosa died, but Rosa finds pills in Helena's car later in the episode.  Oxycodone. The same drug that Rosa used to steal from her mom as a kid (which we learned about in 2x04) and the same drug that she and Kyle discussed when he was checking her health in 2x01.

During Helena's toast to Rosa:

Preciosa = precious

Rosa Linda… still not sure personally if this is a continuity error or a pet name.  I’m inclined to go with a pet name. Throughout the whole episode Helena uses lots of pet names, nicknames, diminutives to address people. Rosa Linda may be just another version of this since Rosa's middle name was pretty well established as Helena in Season 1 between her grave, memorial pamphlet, etc.

Kyle calls attention to Steph's bandage on her arm.  She says she gave blood, but it feels like she's evading.

Also she calls him McDreamy, which is a Grey's Anatomy reference. Kyle called himself McSexy (another Grey's nickname) in 1x08 as well.

Note: I've seen some people talk about the speech about his sick friend as being about Maria, but I think he's really talking about Steph.  Or both, vaguely. He's certainly trying to get Steph to open up to him. Here's what he says:

"I just found out a friend of mine is sick. And I can't do anything to help her. And I hate feeling helpless."

Only after Steph puts her walls back up, does he gesture to Mimi's files.

The Spanish:

"Oh, ándale, gùero."

Ándale is like, go! Or let's go! Gùero we discussed earlier...basically white boy.

Por favor - please 

Rosa's art that we first saw in 2x05 now looks finished:

Isobel's graffiti "In Pod We Trust"

Both Isobel and Rosa's graffiti:

Isobel's assessment of Rosa's art

"That's a black hole. An unstoppable force of destruction. And it's getting closer. I see a girl looking into her own doom. She thinks it's inevitable, that she can't stop it, but she can. See, she created it. That means she can destroy it."

Rosa on Isobel's efforts to help her:

"You and Max, you keep talking about harnessing emotion and grounding myself, right? But I can't do that.  It is in my DNA to be screwed up. Literally. My mom's mentally ill. So, so am I. I was broken long before Noah did what he did. That's why he chose me to prey on.  That's probably why he chose you too."

Maria on her grandmother:

"When I was a child my Grandma Patty was the only adult who understood my make-believe world. Thing is, I was six.  So my favorite things about her were just illness, I guess…"

Maria on her mom:

"She was always kind of out there.  By the time I realized it was more than that, I just became obsessed with money. Wanted to be able to take care of her. I invested everything Grandma Patty left me, and I worked, scrounged.  It was about three days after my mom was finally fired from her job at the Pony, I bought the place."

Maria's blood does not contain the alien protein that Kyle found in the Pod Squad and Rosa after being in the Pod for a decade. (and yes, he actually said Pod Squad, which feels like an OG fandom victory)

"Look, there is one thing I noticed in your grandmother's file. Her insurance company is the same one that paid for my dad's cancer treatments...My dad got cancer because of an alien incident at Caulfield Prison. A fake insurance company established by Project Shepherd covered his bills."

"Okay so my grandmother got sick at the same alien prison where your mother died?"

More Spanish (there's lots of it this week).

Helena, when she gestures to the present:

"Abre tu regalo."

Open your gift.

Quinces is just slang for Quinceanera.

Just in case you're not familiar with quinceaneras (Liz's was also referenced in 1x02).

"Mija, me enseñas tus prom photos?"

Daughter, show me your prom photos.

Regarding the power outage.  Liz thought it was Max. Max thought it was Rosa. But the wire is frayed, like it was cut or chewed through. So it wasn't alien power related.  When Arturo finds the wire though, he says, "Must have been a little mouse." Which is how he referred to Rosa earlier in the episode. So the question is, does he actually think it was a mouse? Or does he think Rosa cut the wire? And if Rosa did cut the wire, then why? To distract them while she goes after her mom's car?

In the big Liz/Helena argument, Helena calls Max “a güerito cop”.  Güero means white person, similar to the more commonly used gringo.  But by adding the “ito” onto the end (like discussed before), Helena is basically diminuitizing Max.  She’s using the “smallness” above to basically imply that he’s some white nobody.

“I may not be the PTA mom who made cookies for bake sales or hosted sleepovers, but I sacrificed everything to come to this country to give you a better life.”

This is...not actually true.  Liz and Rosa are both natural born U.S. citizens, born in Roswell.  So she didn’t “come to this country” for that reason. She was already here when Liz and Rosa came into the picture.  And it’s not like she came pregnant with Rosa or anything, since Rosa is Jim Valenti’s daughter.

The ring that Helena took was ARTURO'S mother's ring.  It wasn't even Helena's family's heirloom.   

Liz and Arturo sharing flan for dessert.  At the start of the episode before Helena arrived they discussed making flan for Rosa.

Arturo admits that he always knew the truth about Rosa's heritage. (*fistpump* that's one of my headcanons coming true). 

"Rosa es mi hija, siempre y para toda la vida."

Rosa is my daughter, always and for life.

"Maybe you're right. I am playing the hero. Just like you're playing the politician's perfect arm candy.  See, I did a little digging. And your boyfriend, Dirk-- he ran for city council. It's very impressive. But there's no mention of your daughters. I'm guessing Dirk doesn't even know about Liz or Rosa.  Does he know anything about you, Helena? 'Cause it would be such a shame if he found out about a little town called Roswell."

Helena gives Max the ring, but keeps the box… maybe that's what Helena really wanted?

Huevos = eggs.  Basically, slang for balls.

"I know that face.  You uncovered a massive conspiracy."

"I checked the Caulfield drives. No sign of a Patricia DeLuca, but there was a Patricia Harris. Her maiden name. She signed up to participate in an experimental trial. Government was interested in weaponizing alien abilities. They wanted to create super soldiers. Your grandma was one of the first human subjects."

"Kind of wish I was an alien instead."

"What happened to the experiment?"

"It was a total failure. Caulfield shut it down in the '70s after people started dying. I don't understand how your grandmother got involved."

"I do. Henrietta Lacks, Tuskegee, Holmesburg.  The DeLucas aren't the first black people to be secretly experimented on."

Highly encourage you to read these if you're unfamiliar with any of these references.  It's African-American history (and really a black mark on U.S. history) that's rarely taught in schools.

Henrietta Lacks:

Tuskegee:

Holmesburg:

Reality versus Maria's flashes… great gifset by @rosaortecho on this here:

Kyle rips his jacket, staggers out to the parking lot, drops his keys, and is almost hit by a car, but Michael throws him out of the way with his powers (and Kyle still ends up injured because he lands on a glass bottle).

"Now that we know your illness is related to Caulfield we can find a cure for it."

"Maybe it's not an illness. I saw the future today, Guerin. When I first found out Grandma Patty was experimented on, I was furious.  But what if my genetic inheritance isn't just injustice? It's also actual superpowers. Saved a life today. And not just any life-- Kyle Valenti's. Tomorrow he's gonna turn around and save five more lives."

Liz and Rosa's dueling big sister act is super fascinating.  Rosa admits that she wasn't going to burn the car, and then she saw Liz crying, felt helpless, and that's when her powers went all wacky and caused it to explode.

Meanwhile, Liz has spent the whole episode trying to keep Rosa safe from Helena, and is trying to comfort her here by talking about Helena's sobriety.

But--Rosa stole Helena's pills, so she knows Helena is not sober, and she doesn't tell Liz that.  Why? To protect her.

At some point these two should probably stop keeping secrets to protect each other and start actually sharing what they know.

Kyle stitches himself up.

Steph quoted in this scene:

"I was up in the gallery contemplating American downfall thanks to progressive socialism."

"People tend to bail when things get real. I'm not into that."

Cameron's car was impounded a couple hours away.

Max is turning in his badge and gun and is turning down desk duty to search for Cam.

Isobel and Michael's discussion at the Pony:

"Do you think that Noah chose me because I was already broken?"

"I think you are the only one of us who ever keeps it together."

"I'm serious, Michael. The night that drifter attacked me, why am I the only one who started blacking out? I mean, Max literally murdered a man, but I'm the one who breaks?"

"You were traumatized. We were kids. At that age, trauma gets etched on to your soul."

"But what if it's not in my soul? What if it's in my DNA? Look, my whole life, I've played Stepford wife, because I thought that's what I was supposed to do. But...I need to understand myself now. I need to know where I'm from.  And if I don't know who my biological parents are, how am I ever gonna know who I really am?" 

"What are you saying, Iz?"

"I know that we said we shouldn't look into the past, but…"

"It keeps pulling you back. Me too. I spent my whole life thinking I'd build a ship and blast off into the ether. And then the minute I decide to leave that all behind and focus on this good thing in front of me, I'm sucked back in. Maria's family was experimented on at Caulfield. I need to find out more so I can find a cure for her illness."

Rosa takes one of her mom's pills. 😭

MUSIC:

1. Cactus Groove "This World"

2. Shelly Fairchild "Drive"

3. Mathis Hunter "Mrs. Vinegar"

4. Big Stone City "Good For Zero"

5. Big Stone City "Way Down Below"

6. Selena "Bidi Bidi Bom Bom"

7. Elizabeth Moen "Best I Can Do"

8. Wagons "Keep Coming Back"

9. AG "Where Is My Mind" (Pixies Cover)

[ihaveneverbeengivenflowers]

(Not so) Random considerations on birth control methods and menstrual cycle

Although absolutely nobody fucking asked, I wanted to talk about my personal experience with birth control pills and menstrual cycle. First of all, let's catch up on how did I get here.

I started taking oral contraceptives (OC) since my mother took me to a gynecologist for the first time. The doctor made me a prescrition because I told her I suffered with cramps during my period. I was about 13 years old.

I kept taking OC every single day for the following 11 years, until I reached 24. Several doctors I passed by along these years changed the dosage and combinations of hormones I took, because each of them gave me a different bunch of adverse effects. Headache, nausea, menstrual cramps, recurrent urinary tract infections, candidiasis, vaginal bleedings... the list goes on.

During my teenage years I found out some women from my mother's family have circulatory problems, from varicose veins to venous thrombosis. There are also cases of cancer possibly induced by sexual hormones. That is: conditions that make OC, especially the combined ones, contraindicated for me. I got worried and decided to come back to the doctor and talk about another options available. The only one that was presented to me was the so called minipills, which are OC made with a single hormone instead of a combination of two. I took it for the following 5 years straight, and it seemed a good idea at the time because I've spent all my life struggling with underweight and anemia. Since the OC completelly suspended my period, I was supposed to be fine.

However, last January I had a major vaginal bleeding, even though I didn't stop taking my OC. I had terrible abdominal pains, and the bleeding continued for almost 10 days straight. Like I said, being underweight didn't improve the situation and my immune system shut down very quickly. Besides, I was having a hard time to keep up with my bills and wasn't covered by any health insurance at that time (I live in Brazil, and for those who are not familiar, things are a little bit different here. Theoretically we do have a public health system, but in real life we can't barely count on it and the access to the private system is kinda surreal for those living with minimum wage).

Well, as soon as I could, I saved enough money to go see a private doctor. I paid for the appointment and a several exams to find out that my bleeding was possibly caused by multiple ovarian cysts. Both of my ovaries were 3 times bigger than the normal size, and the doctor hypothesized that a big one of them (or a few) must have simply ruptured, and that the whole shit was probably induced by the fucking OC.

In summary, the doctor said I had polycistic ovary syndrome (PCOS). Plus, I should stop taking my actual OC and go back to the combined ones. Yeah, those same I was not supposed to take both because of my family history and the previously described adverse effects. He emphasized that was the only treatment available, and that my condition actually had no cure, so I should just take it for the next 30-40 years until I’d reach menopause, while praying for not having cancer or thrombosis or embolia and... well, to die of something else not related with OC.

So, well... I quit. I smiled and waved to the doctor and left the office. I was about to turn 25 and I decided I wasn’t going to take it that way. Now that you’re up to date in the story, let’s move on to where I was really trying to get with this post.

Please note: I ain't no gynecologist nor physician, but nowadays I’m a post-graduate health professional with a couple years of clinical practice. And I think I’m allowed to apply the little knowledge I acquired during 7 years (so far, still counting) of higher education to see through this situation with a tad of criticism. Not only regarding my own case, but regarding the doctors’ position when it comes to women’s reprodutive health - at least in my country. Therefore, let’s consider some key points:

Is there a real need to prescribe OC to young girls aged 13 years or less just because they come to the office complaining about menstrual cramps? During the period the lining of the unfertilized womb is being shed through the vagina. It involves muscular contractions, so of course it might get painful. There’s nothing abnormal about it, so why purging it like a plague instead of teaching them that’s a physiological process and how to relieve the pain in case it happens? Nutritional counseling, physical exercises, simply using a hot-water bottle or even taking an occasional painkiller can totally solve the problem.

The primary aim when taking OC is expected to be, should be, birth control. Yet, they’re frequently prescribed to girls that don’t even have an active sex life because of light acne, oily skin, menstrual cramps and/or intense menstrual flow without any further clinical complications... or just because. You might take it as some conspiracy theory, but you know what it looks like to me? Creating a very profitable market for pharmaceuticals. And nothing more. If women get sick and end up developing cancer or whatever, even better, so more drugs (way more expensive ones) will be sold.

In fact, there are another treatments available for PCOS. But it seems doctors are too lazy, or too comfortable in their position of filling a single standard prescription, that they completely ignore any alternatives. Can you wonder why? Maybe because it requires a minimum of health and sex education, and that takes time. How are they going to be able to attend people in less than 5 minutes if they’ll have to talk to their patients, right? Simply doesn’t worth it. Anyways, again, alternatives include acupunture, homeopathy, phitoteraphy, dietotherapy throught nutritional counseling and regular physical activity. Each case is different, but keep in mind: OC aren’t the only way, indeed, literally speaking they’re not even a treatment because they don’t treat it.

Opening a parenthesis: of course there probably are exceptions and good doctors no matter where. But doctors at public health system are in general unsatisfied with their working conditions and environment, while doctors at the private system usually are anything but well paid by insurance companies. In overall terms, the more academically qualified the doctors get, the less prepared for attending real life demandings in developing countries they are. Also, the less willing to work in such places they are. (If you’d wish to read more about it, I highly recommend seeing Chapter 5 - An example of a paradigm and its social conditions: scientific medicine of La construction de sciences, by Gérard Fourez.)

Still on PCOS topic: first of all, having multiple cyst on one or both ovaries doesn’t necessarily mean PCOS. PCOS, as a syndrome, means there are multiple criteria that need to be fulfilled for closing the diagnostic. In this case, criteria involve imaging exams, symptomatology, clinical and biochemical evaluation. In my case, for instance, PCOS is a diagnosis that simply doesn’t suit my medical history, but no doctor has ever bothered making an anamnesis. I’m not trying to say anybody should go to Dr. Google’s opinion (seriously, don’t), but look out for more information than it’s given to you at the office, even because often none is given.

I know suspending the menstrual cycle can make life much more easier. No worries about pads, unexpected leaks, cramps, PMS etc. But take it from a different perspective for a second. There seems to be a lot of content over the internet nowadays about body positivity, empowerment and tons of so called movements of deconstruction of established paradigms in our society about feminility and feminism. I’ve seen a lot of girls online sharing their experiences on stopping taking OC etc. I don’t know how far it’s good or not, but there’s a point that can be taken from all of it: the menstrual cycle is a natural part of every woman’s reprodutory phase in life. It’s not disgusting, embarrasing or whatever nonsense we’ve been told. And it can be a good way for us to conect with ourselves, to listen to our bodies. Observing symptoms such as pain, fatigue, cravings, emotions, sex drive; checking on cervical mucus, body temperature, hours of sleep... all of this can be part of a daily self-care routine and, moreover, be useful to birth control.

Talking about birth control: I’m genuinely surprised on how much the doctors whom I interacted during my life underrate condoms as a method against unwanted pregnancy. They say out loud that it’s not safe and, unless the conspiracy theory about selling drugs is real, I simply don’t get the reason why they do that. In first place, this is bullshit because condoms are a very effective fisical barrier that prevent even a single spermatozoid from swimming along the vaginal canal and straight up to the womb. Second, there’s no 100% safe method except for sexual abstinence; not even OC + condoms (theoretically not even tubal ligation) are 100% safe, since the human body isn’t a static machine and everything is prone to error. So, yes, opting for non-pharmacological methods of birth control instead of synthetic hormones can be valid.

Obs: condoms work as long as they’re properly stored, used and discarded. But the same can be said about OC and any other contraceptive methods. And, important: choosing a contraceptive method involves not only statistical data on the margin of error of condoms and pills, but also individual phychossocial aspects. In other words: a determined method might not be the doctors’ first option and they might not personally like it, but they can suck it up and use their fucking knowledges to find the best alternative for you.

Again, I’m not trying to encourage you anybody else to contradict their doctors. However, I think that questioning is part of a healthy and constructive process. First because doctors are human beings, therefore they’re as prone to error as anybody else (or even more due to long working hours). Second, because they’re supposed to be the primary source of information for any questions you might have about your own health. Third, because I believe with all my heart that the relationship between health professionals and their patients must include, if not be based in, trust.

[weedsoda]

I’m gonna try to get back into posting regularly and maybe writing more. 2019 was a big year for me. I took back control over my mental and physical health after seriously being in denial of it for 7 years. I stopped drinking and picked up a medical marihuana card instead. I actually quit every substance besides weed. I’ve been one year clean, and that’s the longest I have been clean for maybe 16 years. 

Despite my BII Phobia (phobia of injections/injury), I made myself get my blood tested regularly. I healed my liver. I tried several new meds for my bp1, went through hell with lithium and depakote, but gave them a chance. They definitely worked, but the side effects were too much. My body couldn’t even take the lithium and my thyroid started to become damaged. But I gave them a shot and was stable, but brain dead. I was unable to speak full sentences some days. 

I took a chance and got a job. I stuck with it for 4 months despite not being on my meds. After a scare with my blood pressure and a weird heartbeat, I decided that the job wasn’t worth it (minimum wage in a very dangerous place). Then I was offered the job of a lifetime. Director of Inside Sales for a cannabis company. I would be working alongside other women of color and for a very important woman in the cannabis industry. It was a dream come true and with that salary I would have been set for life. While the state was deciding who would get the licenses, problem after problem emerged. What would follow would be 6 months of anxiety, depression, hopelessness and loneliness. 

We didn’t get the license, but as far as I know they are still uncovering corruption. I took this time off to seek out therapy with my medicaid. After months of searching I found a therapist close by. I have been in CBT for a couple months now. I turned 34 and I’m proudly still here, even though the odds are against me. Coming to terms with the fact that I do have BP1 and that it has ruined my life time and time again has been a sharp pill to swallow. Literally. But I am not my disease, and I can control this, i just have to find the right medication “cocktail” as we call it. 

New laws in the state make it very tricky for me to get some of my meds because people abuse them a lot here, so I’ve been working as hard as I can to control my anxiety without meds. It’s been rough, I’m incredibly unstable but the low dose of depakote has been keeping me from being suicidal or going manic. It keeps me in this stable haze where sounds and sights are muffled. Sometimes I have to force emotions when they used to come to easily, but I guess thats just part of the control. 

Weed has completely saved my life and brought me closer to so many people. The only friends I made in this city were the staff at my dispensary. Weed has also brought my closer to my friends from before I moved to SA. I was gone for so long, 8 years, that the united states is like a foreign country to me again. I still think in pesos and not dollars. I have forgotten many english words. All the brands and stores are different, and I’m really happy when I find old things still here. 

It’s been an intense and scary process, but I’m still here. Tomorrow marks 2 years since my best friend died. I don’t want to talk about it yet. It will be the final chapter in my therapy and it will be really hard, but I have to heal and continue. I have a positive outlook, even though I’m not exactly happy right now. I will be happy to leave this dangerous city and move to the suburbs. I never thought I would want that, but the city is making me anxious and i’m craving nature and safety. 

So that’s what new. Hopefully I will be growing again, and I will be doing more photography again. 

[sontagfag]

a song by song explanation for this playlist

1. Shut Up Kiss Me by Angel Olsen

this screams macdennis to me, like just read guardians of a rare thing and you’ll get it. this is like s6 or s7 dennis bc they stopped fucking after s5 and he just wants to get kissed because he has big feelings but also refuses to say them out loud :( 

most macdennis line: “this heart still beats for you why can’t you see it”

2. I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You by Black Kids

ok so this is dennis being jealous as fuck because mac got a boyfriend and now he’s hanging out at the bar being tender w mac. dennis is the narrator and can’t stand watching them be together + the guy knows mac and him are close and asks him for advice....

most macdennis line: “one, im biting my tongue, two, he’s kissing on you, three, oh why can’t you see”

3. Green Light by Lorde

ok so this one’s about right after mac comes out and starts going to gay bars and so dennis tags along and watches him get hit on and gets super jealous so he just dances w him and kisses him but then pretends it didn’t happen....

most macdennis line: “did it frighten you/how we kissed on the light-up floor?”

4. Bastards of Youth by The Replacement

this is a young macdennis song, about when they were just starting to be friends and yknow they both have shitty home lives so they just sit around and get high and complain about their family in one of their basements and talk about opening a bar one day...

most macdennis line: “the ones who love us least are the ones we'll die to please/ if it's any consolation, I don't begin to understand them”

5. I’m Scum by IDLES

ok this song is basically just on here because dennis is a bastard man with no rights, but actually this could just be the paddy’s theme song? while it does have a lefty twist which is probably inappropriate for paddy’s, like, dennis is a bastard man and i just wanna put this one on for him and say to him “you have no rights go be gay you dumb fuck”

most macdennis line: “i’m a minimum wage job/ i’m a mongrel dog/i’m just another cunt/i’m scum, i’m scum”

6. I’m Beating My Head Against the Wall by Jeff Rosenstock

this one is just about both of them being dumbasses who cannot communicate whatsoever, pretty straightforward.

most macdennis line: “talk-talk-talk-talk-talking to you but you don’t wanna hear me speak”

7. Something Soon by Car Seat Headrest

this is a dennis post s12 song about being in north dakota and missing mac...he’s in a foreign place and he doesn’t know anyone except mandy and he’s trying to get a job but he can’t stop thinking about mac....like “only one change of clothes” sounds like someone who just decided to pick up and move to another state...there are so many good dennis lines in this like just listen to it

most macdennis line: “biting my clothes to keep from screaming/taking pills to keep from dreaming”

8. Your Dog by Soccer Mommy

ok, finally one from mac’s perspective! this is him being mad at dennis because he manipulates him all the time and whenever dennis explodes he has to clean up the mess... essentially just the scene from The Gang Dines Out where he says “say something nice to me for once in your life”

most macdennis line: “always talk to other people/ dart my eyes across the room/ forehead kisses break my knees and/ leave me crawling back to you

9. I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts by X

oh this is just pure mac repressed catholic guilt....he loves dennis but he knows he shouldn’t :(

most macdennis line: “walking down the road/ everybody yelling ‘hurry up, hurry up’/ but i’m waiting for you/ i must go slow/ i must not think bad thoughts”

10. Not in Love We’re Just High by Unknown Mortal Orchestra

absolutely about how dennis and mac compartmentalize hooking up when they were high and in high school...poor lil boys

most macdennis line: “songs we started left me broken-hearted/ i have been frozen in time, yeah/ roses on your mind/ will call you home”

11. Should Have Known Better by Sufjan Stevens

this is dennis beating himself up and honestly probably self-harming after doing something dumb to upset mac. he’s too fucking repressed to actually deal with his trauma so of course whenever he upsets mac and they stop talking it reminds him of his parents abusing him when he was young and him crying alone in his room...it’s also about him trying to explain to mac how he has no feelings (ALLEGEDLY) and hasn’t ever since childhood...

most macdennis line: “i should have known better/ nothing can be changed/ the past is still the past/ bridge to nowhere/ i should have wrote a letter/ explaining what i feel, that empty feeling”

12. Old Friend by Mitski

OKAY I HAVE A WHOLE SITUATION FOR THIS ONE. this is like beginning of s13, for one there’s line “we nearly drowned for such a silly thing” which, uh, i know is not literal but THE GANG GOES TO HELL YOU BITCHES. anyway this is exactly like one macdennis fic i read where dennis comes back and mac is dating rex and he’s really jealous but anyway this is them going to a diner and discussing everything that’s happened since he’s left... i can’t remember what fic it is so please help me but there’s an iconic line where mac says “it was always you” to dennis...im feral...

most macdennis line: “i’ll take coffee and talk about nothing baby/ at blue diner i’ll take anything you wanna give me, baby”

13. Doll Parts by Hole

fuck you, dennis absolutely loved Hole in high school because dee bought Live Through This on cd once on a whim and got obsessed and would always listen to it when he was in a crappy mood bc abusive parents though he would never admit it to anyone else...like this is just pure mentally ill dennis self-hatred, and now even tho he’s an adult whenever he is just jumping out of his skin he puts it on alone in the range rover and screams along with courtney love...also it’s about him loving mac so much but because he’s him it just comes out in intense outbursts of anger... 

most macdennis line: “i love him so much it just turns to hate/ i fake it so real, i am beyond fake”

ok i realized that most of these are from dennis’s perspective but like, he’s so easy to pin....dumb bastard man...anyway thank you for reading

[pinetrest]

Oh, shit! Your Dad called the police on you? Do you mind sharing what exactly happened?

thats actually The Most traumatic event inmy entire life but ive already told it to everyone who would listen so why not share it here too lol.

basically, i have bpd and at that time i was going thru a breakup and was very manic and emotional and suicidal. so the night before i had taken like a bunch of pills (i used to do this thing where even tho i knew it most probably wouldn’t kill me there would still be a chance and thats the only way i’d calm down cause at those times i cant stand being alive but anyways thats too dark)

so i was still coming down from the pills. i was out of my damn mind. i sat there and painted allllll day long, like 7 hours long non stop, they said i was like a zombie. btw the painting i made that day is something so surreal and it honestly feels like something divine guided me while making it im not kidding i was in a trance and theres so many faces in it i dont remember painting at all but here it is -

its creepy as hell yall....

anyways back to the story!

so i wanted them to .. ok i wont share this but i wanted my mom to do smth for me like go to this one place but she didnt want to cause there was no point to go but i was like no please we have to its my only chance blabla and i started kinda threatening them id take my own life .. it was scary i mean i was out of control and i hate talking about this but its true and it happened and its embarrasing but i acted awful and i think i took a knife and said id stab myself in the chest shit was wack hxjdkd so OBVIOUSLY they were worried af but i knew i was exaggerating and wouldnt fucking do that. but my dad took his phone and i heard him say the cliche “hello 911 my daughter is out of control” and my mom was sort of blocking the way from him and i started screaming like WTF HES CALLING THE POLICE ON ME DONT DO THAT???? but she wouldnt budge the poor woman was so scared and i cant blame her :(

i immediately calmed down at this point and there was literally no use for the police to come but they were here 10 mins later and i was calmly explaining the situation and that im ok now but they were like “we dont rlly give a shit we’re takin u to talk to some .. professionals” 🙄 so they took me to some random ass psychiatrist (not my usual one that i love) in an AMBULANCE???

there that bitch ass hoe of a psychiatrist had all my previous paperwork from the two hospitalizations i had that year and allllll the suicide attempts and he was basically like “yea ur at a high risk u need to be behind bars” literally. they decided to throw me in the most infamous asylum of my country, infamous for being literally like a horror film. the things i saw there haunt me to this day. long story short we waited 30 mins for Another Ambulance and i was so mad that i leaped and i think i spat in that psychiatrist’s face and the police were still there so they put HANDCUFFS on me and i rode in silence with one of the officers in an ambulance with handcuffs on for like 40 minutes to the asylum and there the fun just started hhaaahaaa where they forced me to sign and i stayed for a week (when the minimum is usually 3 months but my grandma had actually worked there for like 6 years so everyone knew her and thank god with her and my mom’s help i was out only after a week but GOD do i tell u a week was more than a lifetime long in there and im not exaggerating) but thats a whole another story on its own

tldr im a crazy ass bitch ??? but also FUCK my dad

[chocolate-failure]

It's probably time for an update. This shit has been fucking stressful. I never talked about Talullah and I don't think I will in any detail. DIg almost died because he refused to put aside his pride and turn around before he was extremley ill, in turn almost killing me in the process. He spilled my water and couldn't make it through the trail so we had to go backward on a trail that wasn't designed for it. I didn’t have enough time to rest because I was worried about leaving him alone and I kinda never want to go hiking with him again and that's pretty much the in and out of it.

I went to the dentist this past Thursday and was told that while I have been taking care of my teeth that they are all rotting out of my face hole to the tune of a cool $20,000. I need 3 root canals and 4 crowns. That isn't even getting into the 12 some odd fillings I need on top of that. But yeah my teeth were super clean, no tater build up, very little plaque. Which like... I rather have years of build up and a mouthful of teeth that aren't on the brink of rotting 🥴 The dentist told me some people just have bad teeth and that's just really mfkn disappointing. Cuz like of course I purge but it's not as bad as when I was a kid and in recent months hasn't been everyday. I always make sure to wash out my mouth and brush with fluoride mouthwash whenever I purge. I even keep the shit on me when in out and about. When I was a kid I was brushing maybe a few times a week and purging upwards of 6 or 7 times a day. I remember one day counting 14 times and being proud of that shit. God I was so mfkn stupid. But I was also a fucking child. I needed a doctor. I needed therapy, not to be forced to eat by my mother. That only resulted in my teeth rotting out of my face. And being told that makes me even more phobic of food. As delusional as it sounds it very much feels like food is what got me here. It's not like I can undo what my mom did or take something from her to make me whole again, but food... I can continue to avoid that right?

I haven't purged since going to the dentist which is not as impressive or brave as it is pathetic. And the days leading up to the dentist I was pretty good at keeping the purging to a minimum but it wasn't in anticipation of going to the dentist. Anyone who knows ed knows that it doesn't give af about alleviating the stress of whatever else is going on in your life. In fact, it only gets worse as a product of you having other things going on. God I wanna be fucking dead.

Lmfao despite being in fucking crisis right now I was doing okay for the past week. I had an appointment with a psychiatrist last Wednesday and she gave me 3 weeks of latuda samples and a prescription for latuda that I can actually afford. For anyone looking to get latuda the site is canadadrugsdirect.com, they have the generic version that comes out to $100 for 100 40mg pills. For me that's 200 doses which is enough for half a year if I play my crazy cards right. Hopefully I won't need more but even then 100 doses for $100 is way more manageable than $500 for 100 doses for American Latuda. God I fucking hate it here.

Rn I'm at 153, in the tub trying to get that down to something more manageable. I've been extremely stressed this week because of the dentist and dig had a tantrum in the store yesterday that just completely depleted my battery. I'm so fucking done. But of course after getting over the initial shock of all my teeth rotting I drank a bunch of shit and ate more than I usually do. I actually didn't eat a wh9le lot but whatever is going on with me made me super constipated. I drank some dieters tea last night and my poop came out like rabbits' that's never happened to me. It happens with laxatives and smooth move tea but never dieters tea. Whatever is in that shit it literally will give you diarrhea. It just makes my shit loose af but I have really bad chronic constipation so I can actually count the number of times I've had diarrhea outside of being a baby on 2 hands. And I wouldn't be surprised if I asked my mom if I didn't have very few instances of diarrhea as a baby. I literally have some undiagnosed it's and noone wants to fucking listen to me. It's not normal to only shit 4 times a month or have to manually activate your metabolism to avoid having an impacted colon. God I fucking hate this.

But yeah, I ate prob a few hundred under a normal 2000 calories yesterday maybe 1200... it wasn't a lot but maybe I'm also retaining water due to stress either way I went from 146 at the beginning of the week (Tuesday) to 155 this morning. It's driving me up the fucking wall. It feels like I never get a chance to find equilibrium or maybe it just doesn't exist for me. Idk but I'm kinda fucking losing it. It's been nearly 5 months I've been stuck around the low 150s and high 140s. It's been an absolute nightmare and it feels like i can't trust myself or my body to do well by me. I feel like I'm falling apart and I've really only gotten better at pretending I'm fucking fine.

[random-walking]

Oh hey I do this too!  I *always* eat breakfast in the morning.  My 7-day pill case lives up in the kitchen next to cereal and the honey (for tea).  Stagger upstairs, pour cereal, make tea, collect the day’s meds, eat cereal, drink tea, use tea and/or cereal milk to take meds.  I can literally do this at about the minimum level of consciousness that can be considered "awake".  OTOH this does mean I occasionally miss days if my normal breakfast routine is disrupted, so it's not a perfect solution. But it does get me like 95% of the way there, which is waaaaay better than I can manage trying to just remember to take them on their own. Likewise, I *always* brush my teeth right before bed. So when I was taking evening meds for a while, that bottle lived on the bathroom counter next to my toothbrush, and taking them just became part of the "getting ready for bed" routine. And I totally do the task-bundling thing, too. Still working on avoiding that...

i’ll probably expand on this later, but the best ADHD Hack ™ I’ve found/sussed out is: 

bundle habits together, but don’t bundle tasks together.

[noctimusprime]

Facts About Prisons and Prison Life

For all you writers out there:

the officers that watch over the prisoners are not police officers. They are corrections officers. There’s a difference

COs do not carry weapons. The only thing they’re armed with is mace but mace hurts too

There’s a lot of secret sex that goes on. I shit you not. There are blind spots that the cameras can’t see that people use to satisfy their craving for human contact

There are rules about touching other inmates. No hugging, hand holding, high fives, fist bumps. just no physical contact of any kind

You don’t actually shower with other people. At least not at the prison I was at

Depending on which unit you’re one, there are either 2 toilets separated by stalls or bathrooms in your individual cells

Maximum security is locked down for 23 hours a day

Medium security is locked down 16-18 hours a day

Minimum security is locked down for 7 hours a day and doesn’t have actual cells. It’s pods with five bunks in a pod

Inmates are required to obtain their GED while incarcerated. Everyone takes classes. Most inmates do not just sit on their ass all day dreaming of the day they get free. They get up and try to get free earlier

Murderers aren’t always cold and distant. I knew plenty of people who were in for murder that were relatively nice to the other inmates

Child molesters and pedophiles are literal scum. No one puts up with it and shuns them

Suicides are not common. Attempts, maybe. But the prison I was at had one person actually succeed since it was opened in 1994 (yes it’s a young prison I know)

Commissary has a variety of shit ranging from bags of popcorn and ramen for $0.35 to a typewriter or guitar for $200. People but sweats and thermals and sandals

Not all prisons have jumpsuits. At the prison I was at, the only people who wore jumpsuits were those in Unit 4, or as we affectionately called the Hole where people went when they get in trouble

People in prison can have jobs within the prison including laundry, janitor, maintenance, kitchen, library, education tutor, recreation, and dog trainer (our prison had a dog program that would take in a couple dogs from the shelter and train them while bringing them around the prison to help some of the inmates)

the medical personnel are dicks. They write off every injury as a way to try and get pills because they automatically assume that everyone is a pillhead)

the therapist was shit too

honestly prisons are where people go to work when they’re not qualified enough to work somewhere else

[16weekstoskinny]

Just sorting everything out I’ll be

1. Fasting the first week of every month

2. personal training 4-6 days a week

3. Limiting calories to under 800

4. Take a pill that burns 30 percent of my biggest meals calories

5. Take a daily appetite suppressant

6. Drink a minimum of 2 liters of water a day

7. Burn at least 300 calories on the treadmill every evening OR walk for atleast an hour outdoors

I’ll also be cutting caffeine, sodas, dairy, tea, fruit juices, most processed food, fast food, and most white carbs.

I really wanna see how far I can get if I actually stick to my plans.

I’ll also start on a pill to regulate my hormones as they’ve caused my metabolism to get progressively worse

Waist size is still 36 inches. Wanna get it down to 28 so I’ll probs get a waist trainer and corset or a faja to wear 24/7