#neglect of physical and mental health

[chaoscrow119]

This is something I wrote for a friend struggling with some medical neglect in their home life and also with doctors. i think it’s very important because so many people dont think about the inherent flaws in our current medical system and the damage it does.

i have feelings about the blind faith and trust in all doctors. or the “self diagnosis isnt valid”. they havent proven themselves to deserve it. humans are not perfect and doctors especially are taught in a culture that encourages gaslighting and superiority. on the other note, the reason self diagnosis is waved off is because some people do incorectly diagnose themselves or convince themselves they have something to cope with other things or fit in.

one reason a doctor diagnosis is important is they are more likely to know other options it might be or spot the signs something else or something as well is going on.

unfortunately it takes a decent doctor to do that and most doctors are taught in a way that discourages that or are too overworked and understaffed to give the patient enough attention.

i honestly have a very similar feeling to medical professionals as i do to cops

all cops are bastards- that doesnt mean they are all bad or that there are good people who are cops who actually do their job in a good way, but the system itself is broken and they are part of that system. same for medical professionals

as such there are medical professionals who are good at their job and listen and actually evaluate all the options and are willing to learn and grow

but they are also part of a broken system

it’s come to a point in the area of mental health where self diagnosis is almost required to get the help you need. especially if you land in a category most doctors dismiss or the problem you’re struggling with they have biases about. you oftentimes need to know ahead of time and be ready to defend your case and get the professional to take you seriously.

even if you end up being wrong about what you diagnosed yourself with you need to have a place to start and defend with your doctor.

and when it’s a doctor that feels challenged by you self diagnosing, or if you are unsure, another very helpful thing is to focus mainly on the symptoms. make a physical list of each symptom you experience along with examples and how they effect you. and if you want to go the extra mile also have documents that show how those symptoms relate to the diagnosis you’re suspecting to show that you both know what you’re talking about and there is a real and tangible connection.

another thing that is helpful when self diagnosing whether or not a doctor is involved is peer review. peers often have biases as well so dont take their word as law. your the only one who is you. you know your struggles the best. talk it out with them, tell them your symptoms, compare them with the diagnosis you suspect- if they have similar experiences or suspect or are diagnosed with a similar thing talk about that. learn more, both in an academic sense and in a real life experience sense. and find people who dont relate- it can be so valuable to find people you dont relate with because then you start to realize what you are struggling with is not a normal thing. that’s the first step in getting help- either professional or letting yourself help yourself.

and at the end of the day an official diagnosis may not be necessary depending on the thing. they are far too hard to get. but they can be useful for accommodations in either school or work if you find yourself needing support in ways you cant give yourself and can only be given by an employer or school. but even without an official diagnosis a good employer or teacher or such will work with you on your struggles and help you find a way to do things in ways that help you

that being said some things need a professional diagnosis as well because they require professional medical help (COUGH COUGH EDS BITCHES /SRS)

in which case as i said before being told no by a doctor doesnt automatically mean it isnt true. learn to trust yourself, learn more about yourself, and if you still need that diagnosis come back armed with more information and proof.

it’s a hastle and i have so many intense feelings about how wrong it is to be this difficult. too many people suffer needlessly for it

(edit was because copy and paste didn't include the first paragraph for some reason)

[sucrecube9]

Thoughts about Elixia Camellia.

TW for discussion of weight and depictions of unhealthy thinness

[trauma-of-the-day]

The horror of being abused by a broken person who thinks they're showing love

[mad-hunts]

thinking about barton doing baby talk to his kids, even though he was eighteen when marcy gave birth to both matilda + louis and thus was a COMPLETELY different person, is honestly both super surreal to me and also surprisingly... sort of makes sense. because barton can NOT bring himself to be mean around babies; i mean at all, and this man loved his kids so much, which 😭 well — let me just say that his behavior has greatly changed since then, to say the least. though barton still believes he loves them in his 'own way'

[motherhenna]

wanted to share an almost full-body pic for the first time in probably almost a decade because for once I'm actually proud of how I'm progressing and think that the changes I'm making will end up being permanent bc I'm genuinely enjoying them. Plus, the few selfies I have shared over the last five years have been very photoshopped and at flattering angles, so I feel like most of y'all don't know what I actually look like. So this is me in my children's theater teacher fit last monday!

I'm 17 lbs down from my highest ever weight, but my trainer thinks I'm probably up at least ten to fifteen lbs in muscle. I'm cooking my own food, eating more reasonable portions, and going to the gym at least five times a week because I want to, not because I feel shame or guilt. And now that I'm working as hard as I am, I'm a lot less triggered by looking at new pictures of myself because I know I'm doing my best. I'm still obese, and probably will be for awhile more, but I'm starting to appreciate what I look like and feel like. And hopefully it'll just get better from here!

[i-miss-being-skinny]

They keep saying my suicide attempt was a cry for attention

I'm so fucking pissed off

I told littrally no one

I played really loud music so nothing would be heard

I locked myself into my room

I didn't call for aid until 9 hours after the attempt when I realised I didn't die

Fuck I pretend to be better and happier beforehand to rid suspicion

But fick hey I'm just an attentkion whore

Also I have been facing the most extreme medical neglect and truly do not want to keep living like this it is fucking hell

Why can't I just have a genetic deasise that will kill me instead of one that progressively just makes me more and more disabled

I'm not getting any care despite having been the perfect patient

Of course I don't want to be here!

I'm in the hospital recovering still and it took them over 5 hours to get me a catheter after I asked over and over to be helped to pee. I have used catheters for a looooong time so it's not like I want to feel special. I hate using them. But everyone's gotta pee somehow.

Also not like I have family who cares about me or anything

I'm so fucking alone

[anarcho-catboyism]

// childhood trauma parental abuse Inside Out Spoilers

I remember when I was a teenager watching Inside Out for the first time, and when Riley came home to her parents after running away, I held my breath when she cried. I could feel this instinct in me that I needed to protect myself from the wrath that was sure to come.

So when Riley's parents responded to her with kindness I felt shocked. I genuinely had this moment of "wait...what?" As I watched her parents comfort her and bring her into a hug.

And then I cried, because I realized I was waiting for them to explode, because that was normal. I didn't understand that a parent could be loving and gentle. I didn't understand that making a mistake didn't mean you were deserving of pain. I didn't know love could be unconditional.

[syn4k]

i do not drink alcohol or do drugs nor do i plan on ever doing any of that but holy fuck does finals season tempt me towards it sometimes

[intersexfairy]

not to be dark on main but i'm remembering that my father has literally psychologically tortured me. and i still live with him. because i the only other place i have to go is the streets.

[blackmoldmp3]

w multiple health professionals telling me dental issues can cause long term damage to your heart etc it seems so fucked up that in a country with 'universal' healthcare im still stuck paying thousands of dollars getting this shit taken care of. even w some amount of private dental insurance

[cheekblush]

me today 💤

[wronggalaxy]

Giving up a mom is so much harder than a dad.

My father is just some guy that had sex on Halloween a decade and a half ago. But, my mama?

She grew me. She held me IN HER BODY for nearly a year, at 18, until I was strong enough to survive on my own. She spent 40 hellish weeks of cravings and bladder problems and gaining a hundred pounds just to end it by being cut open then stapled back together by a traveling doctor she had never seen before and never would again.

And after all that torture, what did she do? Did she run as soon as she could walk, leaving me in the hospital nursery? Did she drop me off at my papaws for him to raise? Did she leave me in one of the numerous woods where anything could kill me?

No. She fed me, clothed me, cleaned me. Maybe I was emotionally neglected by her, and completely neglected and abused by my father, but she physically cared for me. Reconnected with her dad so I could have a papaw, ignored the fact that my father was married so I could grow up with my half siblings, eventually went to college to give me a sliver of a chance of survival.

She is so smart and beautiful and kind and sweet. I love her more than anything on this planet.

But she would despise me if she knew the truth.

And she still emotionally neglected/abused me.

And let my father physically neglect/abuse me.

I'm not sure if it's true, but I heard somewhere once that babies don't learn they're separate beings from their birthing parent until they're 6 months. I'm not sure I ever did.

I can feel her in me—in my skin and veins and stomach and ears. She flows through me.

I just want my mommy to love me again.

[skyteglad]

the latest aita is making me sad. the teeth one. because like... when i was a kid, i was told to have braces! and that i'd need an eventual surgery! and because i didn't want to, my parents didn't make me.

that surgery would've changed my life. i'm not fucking kidding. i'm pretty sure 75% of my physical disabilities stem from not getting that surgery. and by the time i was able to bring up trying to have corrective work again, i was two years from losing my insurance, and my parents procrastinated. now it seems like a pipe dream it'll ever happen.

i get being resentful of your parents forcing you to do things you don't want to do, but god damn, if mine had actually really pushed me into getting braces, my life would be so much different and so much better.

[duchesstopaz]

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 Part 5 6:32pm

Now here we are, in the present, where I’m back after 3 years at 20 years old. Where I’ve learned and grew so much outside of this cage, where I was free from the dark chasm in my life and heart that is home. Where every second around you makes me feel 8 and 10 and 12 and 15 and 17, all simultaneously and all over again. Of course, the abuse has stopped, it stopped a long time ago, but when you have PTSD, things get really muddled. And, yes, I’m an adult now, teaching at an elementary school, and taking care myself for the most part. So, what’s so bad? Well, I’ll tell you.

When I’m back in my childhood bedroom, sleeping on an air mattress, with ALL of my younger siblings, as an adult. When there’s another bedroom that could have been used, but why would it be, when my stepdad uses it to get ready for work, to house the hundreds of products he purchased from Amazon, and in case you forgot from earlier, the thousands of dollars worth of workout equipment that he uses once every 2 months. OH! And get this! His mother is living with us right now, and she now gets that bedroom. Wild, right?

When I’m back to being the in-house, unpaid nanny for the kids. To feed them, watch them, help them with homework, and yes, to correct any misbehaving and report only the extremes. When my stepdad decides he’s bestowing me the responsibility of “supervising the kids cleaning the room”. When he comments on how responsible I’ve always been, and offers me to be back on their car insurance, even though I was never removed from it. 

When he comes in the door, and immediately starts yelling and blaming everyone for how “messy” the house is, and to “get this crap off my stuff”, and “who touched my shelf?”. OH, THE SHELF! When he has a whole shelf in the refrigerator that is dedicated to separate all of his groceries for his vegetarian diet and his on-brand food items that cannot be disturbed by anyone else. When he subjects my mom to buying the cheapest version of all food products, but specifically asks for her to only buy specific brands for him. When he has 2 tables in the kitchen for juicing that cannot be used as counter space by anyone but him. When he’s telling me about the health benefits of one of his juices (or as he calls it every time, “a concoction”), and adds, “Bet you didn’t know that when you were vegan, huh?”. When he continues to not allow anyone to use the washer in the evenings when he gets home because he needs to wash his uniform daily. Also! When no one is allowed to use the only bathroom in the house for at least 3 hours, because he needs it reserved.

When he consistently forgets our birthdays or details of what’s going on in our lives because he doesn’t ask, until my mom tells him of an achievement we’ve made and forces him to congratulate us. When he’s rushing to get to where he’s going and he’s bounding and pushing throughout the house telling everyone to get out of his way because he has poor time management and forgets that there’s 8 people in this tiny house right now. When he asks us a question and we answer, but he doesn’t care because his focus is always elsewhere, so he yells at us that we’re ignoring him. When he impulsively decides to buy the kids something or take them out to eat, and he constantly complains about he could be watching Tv instead or badgering the kids about how much it costs. 

When you misinform your kids by telling them inaccurate retellings of American and Black history. When you feign authority over whether they can go out with a friend, just to forget about it until the time arrives. When you preach about respect and manners, but continue to disrespect and treat me as a child and allow your kids to do the same. When you brag about accolades and compliments from your job because of said respect and manners, even posting a letter on the fridge, but never celebrating any of us for our accolades and compliments.

When you force me to pay you and mom at least $100 a week ($500 a month) as a rent-adjacent payment to help my mom with groceries and bills, just like you used to. When you constantly lecture me about getting a car, but don’t allow the full autonomy of my finances by threatening my ability to stay in my childhood home with the payments. When you try to tell me how to do my job teaching, when you have zero experience of the sort, and try to speak in a proper manner to match my manner of speaking. When you project your superiority/inferiority complex onto me when you ask me about college, by trying to act that you’re more intelligent than me and more knowledgeable about the subject I’m literally having to explain to you.

When you constantly forget about my mental disorders and my therapy and my medication, then you ask me about them as if it’s your time hearing it, even though you know that my mental health is the whole reason I moved back home. When you weaponize your willful ignorance against everyone in the house, especially my mom, to excuse your participation and involvement in our lives.  When you bought walkie-talkies as an updated way of summoning everyone to your room to heed your request, like a bell system that you ring when you need an attendant, saying, “[insert name], report to the bedroom.”, because you can’t be bothered to function independently at home or talk to your family normally. 

How you require that whenever we enter your room to listen to you, that we stand on the side, “where you can see us”. How you make my mother wash all of your clothes or prepare your shower. How my mother goes out of her to make your choice of dinner every night, but you consistently change your mind and inconvenience her, or how my mother is currently in school to get her degree and has HOMEWORK, just to get frustrated when your wife isn’t able to spend time with you. How you selectively recognize that my mom is overworked, just to blame it on us, rather than stepping up and being the parent that you should be. 

How you ask me to complete your online training and learning modules for your job, despite me not knowing anything about truck driving or transporting oil and that you don’t pay me to complete what you should be completing on your own, again, for your job! How you are teaching your kids to stereotype other marginalized communities by saying, “All Mexicans eat guacamole”, or “Those Asian people look like they squint because they’re eyes are too small”.

How you literally decide to manspread every chance you get and take up so much unnecessary space, and force everyone to move around you and yell when someone can’t get around you, when I’m literally taller than you. How you insult your kids daily by calling them stupid, dumb, clumsy, blind, deaf, etc., when it’s because of your own failings as a parent that they don’t meet your expectations of them. How you lie to everyone not in the household in front of all of us about how you act as a parent. How you lie to your kids saying that a box of doughnuts has been sitting on your table for 3 days and needs to be thrown out, when I just bought it that same afternoon. How you don’t know how to react if the kids have a medical emergency because you don’t know their conditions, medications, and what they’re for.

How you manipulate your kids into serving you (“helping you”) by painting it as spending time together, which is the only time you spend together.

How you constantly speak in very vague and general terms, saying “that thing”, “your stuff”, “over there”, then get frustrated and insult everyone’s intelligence because you can’t think of ways to speak in a more clear and intelligent manner, and expect us to be able to always know what you’re speaking of.

How you asked me why I never come home, and I told you a half-truth. How you’re so observational, yet not perceptive. Because if you were, you would at least have the self-reflection to be able to understand that you’re a despicable, horrible piece of shit excuse for a human being, not even a man. How you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror and realize how you scare everyone with your tantrums and violence. How you can’t even recognize that it’s your fault that things are the way they are, and you can’t expect children to have that level of understanding. How you think you’re so exceptional as a person and as a “parent”, but it’s all a delusion that you make yourself believe because you were raised in the same exact way. How you can’t realize that you were traumatized as a child and as much as I know you hated it yourself, you didn’t strive to be different than your father, you strove to get your chance to do the same. 

How you willingly and knowingly married a woman with two sons, and looked at them, and decided to treat them with violence and vitriol, instead of realizing that they don’t have positive father-figures and that you should be different. I hate you for who you made me become. And you’ll never be a parent to me.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4

[bepoprotectionsquad]

I’m exhausted by lazy fucking doctors who wanna get away with doing the bare minimum or less. Y’all are literally killing me. But when I die you’ll blame me for it. I hope when I die, at least some of these people have to face it. I know there’ll never be legal or financial consequences for them. But I hope at least a couple realize they’ve caused absolute misery and death and that it haunts them for the rest of their lives. If I could have a death curse, that would be it. That the people who had a hand in my very untimely death have to turn inward and see their own souls and see that they are black as tar. And then they have to keep living with that forever.