#this is why my mom calls allergies social disabilities

[nope-secret]

I need people to understand that going into a café or restaurant and actually being able to eat something there is a privilege. I cannot count the amount of times I had to watch friends eat the most delicious looking stuff, while I had to go to mcdonalda afterwards to eat some fries.

Even at my favourite café I can only eat the macarons but not every kind.

Whenever I go on a trip half my luggage is food because I know I won't even get a snack at a bakery.

[eds-zebra-warrior]

2021 Ehlers Danlos Society Awareness Month (Day 3 Prompt: Symptoms)

Unbeknownst to most people in the community and even many in the medical community as most medical personnel never learned about EDS in school or if they have were only taught the very most basic information about it but Ehlers Danlos Syndrome is a systemic condition and predisposes those with it to over 250 other conditions so it's not unusual for someone with EDS to have 20, 30 or even more other conditions caused by it which are called comorbid conditions or comorbidities.

EDS is a genetic condition that affects the structure of connective tissue. There are multiple types of connective tissue but there are also multiple types of EDS so one or more types of connective tissue can be impacted. Connective tissue also makes up at least part of every part of the body so when your connective tissue is faulty and prone to damage that also means so is everywhere connective tissue is located including but not limited to the skin, cartilage, the brain, heart, lungs, GI system, liver, kidneys, bladder, Mesentery system which is the stringy organ that is around your abdominal organs that eases then and holds them in place, lymph nodes, lymph ducts, nerves, blood vessels, blood cells, nerves, bones, bone marrow, joints, tendons, ligaments, muscle sheathing, eyes, ears, nails, hair follicles, spinal cord, sweat glands, respiratory system etc. You name it, it contains connective tissue so anything can go wrong with any part of the body leaving many patients diagnosed with conditions such as conversion disorder, meaning that all of your symptoms are in your head and you're fine for years and more often, decades because we usually get diagnosed with a lot of these comorbidities before we finally find that one doctor who can put the pieces together and say, this isn't in your head, you have Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and those other conditions are very real because EDS is what caused all of them.

Now that we have discussed comorbidities I have dealt with countless symptoms over my life. As a kid it started with chronic pain, migraine headaches, and issues resulting from a compromised immune system because I caught everything going around and usually more than once. I don't remember a holiday as a kid where I wasn't sick or hurt. I was extremely clumsy, unable to run correctly until high-school with the very extensive help of my gym teacher. I was always falling, rolling my ankle, and just in general looking awkward with my body movements. I had multiple gym teachers who would agree that there was something physically wrong with me long before I could get any doctors to listen to my mom or as an adult, myself. I had to take special reading and writing classes because even to this day I cannot hold a pencil well or write with control because my fingers are too hypermobile to control a pencil so my writing is often illegible. I had a very severe failure to thrive, also called juvenile dwarfism, not even growing an inch between the ages of 2 and 12. My parents were told when I was 2 years old that I would be 6’4’’because I was so tall as at one and two years old that people would criticize my mom for carrying me out in public thinking I was 4 or 5 years old when I was only a year or two years old. I was 3’2” from the age of 2 to the age of 12 and of course when I was 12 I was extremely short and was bullied for my size as well as my weight which increased due to inflammation from undiagnosed celiac disease. There were multiple incidences with medical personnel and social workers as a kid because I always had such severe bruising all over my body and they believed I was abused. I didn't lose my teeth, losing only one on my own and at the age of 8 my dentist began pulling out my teeth which left me with dental crowding and requiring braces which were removed prematurely. I dealt with Learning disabilities and have been in glasses since age 4. I would pass out all the time as a kid, starting at 8 years old.

Bullying was a huge issue for me as a kid because I was socially awkward showing signs of OCD as well as being more mature than my peers due to my medical experiences and history with my siblings that forced me to grow up more quickly. That combined with issues such as my clumsiness and height made me the perfect target for bullying. I got what I believe was my first Traumatic Brain Injury when I was 9 years old while hanging upside down on the monkey bars. My bully had another student who had Down Syndrome, climb to the top of the monkey bars and lift my legs so I fell off onto my head.

My second was in the 6th grade. The same bully would bully other kids to help her bully a bigger target of hers which was me. One day I was at my locker between classes. Our lockers were assigned in alphabetical order by last name, of course my bully's last name came right before mine so her locker was directly to the left of mine. My mom tried to get it changed but the school refused. She shoved me down between classes while I was exchanging my books and the two kids with the locker to the right of mine she had help her roll me onto my stomach on the ground, one sat on my butt and held my feet down, the other sat on my back and held my arms down under her feet. my bully yanked my head up so my forehead was on the floor of my locker and I was trying to get out so she had the girl on my back use one of her hands to hold my head down. My bully then kicked my locker door shut on my head over and over again and I went unconscious. There were two teachers in the hall at the time but they just waked into the classroom when it started. I woke up and the hall was empty. I went to the office and told them I needed them to call my mom, I needed to go home and explained what happened. They called my mom and instead of telling her the truth they told her she needed to pick me up because I was acting strange. She came and got me and found out what happened getting me treatment.

She then took me to the school a few days later since the doctor didn't want me to return for so long (I apologize I don't remember a lot from the two weeks following this so I'm going off what I was told so the exact time I was out of school, I believe was around two weeks but I'm not sure. Anyhow at the school, we met with the principal and office staff who denied any teachers were in the hall or that any of this happened. My mom demanded to see the recordings on the cameras as a hall came in at a T right behind my locker so that camera faced my locker as well as one at each end of the hall my locker was in. They tried to tell her all three cameras were broken. My mom wasn't buying it so they tried then saying the recordings were gone. they went round and round and the school flat out refused to show her the video. My mom demanded that the girl who did this be punished because she has been asking for the school to help me since I was in the first grade and this girl started bullying me but they always fail to do anything.

They tried to then give me an in school suspension which my mom refused to let them do. They still went behind her back when I returned and made me take peanut butter sandwiches to the kids in detention during my lunch as punishment because they were mad my mom came in to question the incident. They refused to punish my bully in any way and when my mom demanded to know why, they said her mom and grandmother graduated from the school so she has a lot of history with the school which years later we found out after me and 9 other kids that I know of and who knows how many others, ended up being pulled out of the same school because of her bullying that having history at the school actually turned out to mean, she was black and they would not punish her because of her color. At the end of the school year my mom pulled me out of the school not sure what to do since back then they didn't have any kind of free online schooling so pretty much everything costed money which is when my grandma stepped up and told my mom she would help because there was no way I would be going back to deal with more bullying.

I had a ton of intestinal issues having to start colonics at around 10 years old and get my first colonoscopy around the same time. As a teen I really went down hill, struggling to eat because I had very severe nausea and cramping pain upon eating which made many of my friends believe I was anorexic but I went years without being diagnosed with gastroparesis. I started having thyroid issues and finally diagnosed with food allergies at age 14, Chest pain, palpitations, arrhythmias and trouble breathing around age 15 and seizures and cardiac arrest events at age 17.

At age 19, right before starting college I lost the ability to walk with no reason why and was sent to physical therapy to learn to walk again. The hospital visits continued in college from the seizures, emergencies from my thyroid levels going sky high or bottoming out, I started having issues with low sugar, rectal bleeding and more GI and Muscular Skeletal issues that again came to the attention of a physical education professor I had in college. The cardiac arrests continued to happen and I got an emergency pacemaker put in at age 23. Also lost the ability to walk a second time and re learned during this time.

After graduating and starting working I really went down hill. My nerve pain got so bad I could hardly tolerate it and had a lot of issues with muscle spasticity. Passing out and dizzy spells got worse, seizure meds aren't working muscle weakness got again worse in my legs and I started literally wondering if I was dying, I had such severe fatigue that I slept every moment I wasn't working, bleed very badly during my period or with just mild trauma worrying my dentist so badly that he sent a letter to my doctor suggesting a possible bleeding disorder. I was going into shakes from low sugar and low sodium frequently but at the time had no idea why I would start shaking multiple times a day. Myoclonic epilepsy started and has progressively gotten worse, Dystonia started up, I started getting intestinal obstructions more often and more gastroparesis symptoms with the nausea and vomiting, sometimes cyclic vomiting. I developed a limp and went onto forearm crutches which eventually progressed to paralysis.

I have always had issues with dislocations of joints and spinal manifestations like scoliosis, Craniocervical and Atlantoaxial instability. I’m prone to non cancerous masses that could be cancerous one day including masses in my breasts, heals and between the vertebrates in my spine. My memory has deteriorated and I now have issues which I call temporary blindness when I turn my head a certain way which pinches my already compressed brainstem kinking it off so my vision is interrupted. With Systemic Mastocitosis I deal with allergic reaction type symptoms such as anaphylaxis, overproduction of mucus, coughing, hives, swelling, rashes, itching, hot flashes, flushing and more. I overheat and have hyperhidrosis. I have muscle spasms from the paralysis, dry mouth from the meds, in addition to the heart arrhythmias and trouble controlling my body temperature from the damage to my autonomic nervous system failure I have swelling of my abdomen, extreme thirst, bladder retention, abdominal cramping and more.

There are endless symptoms associated with EDS and it’s comorbidities which has a huge impact on your social life. You can't do the things you used to do and may come up with new hobbies and later deal with the grief associated with losing the ability to do those hobbies, in turn having to find new hobbies. You lose all or almost all of your friends because they don't like what you have become, the things you used to be able to do with them and no longer can, they don't understand if you need to cancel plans, when you lose the ability to drive they drop you cold because they don't want to pick you up many of us deal with the realization of how badly we wanted friends growing up due to our social awkwardness that resulted from our illness, time spent in the hospital, maturing more quickly, as well as the result of decades of medical abuse and neglect which in most of us has resulted in complex PTSD.

Almost all EDS patients are either on the Autism Spectrum, diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder which some associate with social awkwardness and also the intense need for us to please people meaning many EDS patients were known as extremely hard and dedicated workers when working or in school as well as very dedicated to friends and families. We basically give our friends the clothes off of our backs meaning that most of us unknowingly befriend people who use us and are in take take take relationships where we give everything we have into a friendship or relationship while the other person gives little back resulting in most of us losing all or almost every friend we had when we get sick and no longer have anything to give. When we are no longer able to do for others those people quickly jump ship leaving us with no friends. Most of us have this very similar personality type due to our history of growing up quickly along with the shared comorbidity of Autism, OCD, and Complex PTSD.

There are countless symptoms associated with EDS and they are different for each individual. Even in my case alone these are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to symptoms I have experienced alone so EDS isn't an easy condition to live with physically or emotionally and the diagnosis can be quite the pill to swallow with little understanding from friends, sometimes family or even the medical community.

[dexboigenius]

TASK 005:::….. Digging Deeper

QUOTE: “Dee Dee, how long have known each other? Our whole lives, you say? No, in truth? Never? Or should I say, you never knew me? Because if you did, you would know I am a soul who requires peace, quiet and, most importantly, solitude. But every day, that solitude is inevitably broken by *you*. Which is why I called you here. Now, I know these are tough times and a dollar does not go as far as it used to, but it is time to take stock, a time for responsibility, a time for change, for as the lab grows, so do my expectations, which, quite frankly, you're not living up to, which is why I have made this tough but firm decision. Dee Dee, you're fired.”

BASIC

NAME: Dexter Tartakovsky NICKNAMES: Boy Genius, Genius, Dex, Dexstar, Little Brother, Dorkster, and D AGE: Eighteen GENDER: Male PRONOUNS: He/Him

FAMILY

PARENTS: Mom - Kath Tartakovsky & Dad - Jeff Tartakovsky SIBLINGS: Has an annoying older sister named Dee Dee Tartakovsky 

PHYSIAL ATTRIBUTES

FACE CLAIM: Charlie Plummer HEIGHT: 5″6″ HAIR COLOR: Strawberry Blonde / Ginger EYE COLOR: Green DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous PHYSICAL DISABILITIES: Lack of flexibility, physical strength, gets fatigue easily, and is generally kinda short LEARNING DISABILITIES: High Functioning Aspergers, aka being that he is highly and extremely intelligent and has even been diagnosed as a literal genius ALLERGIES: None DISORDERS: High Functioning Aspergers FASHION: Use Occasionally would strut around in a white lab coat and purple chemical resistant safety gloves, but often wears sweater shirts, button ups, slacks, blacks, grays, browns, anything sophisticated and considerably ‘nerdy’ but will rarely wear a more relaxed kind of style if persuaded to or if necessary NERVOUS TICS: Lack of eye contact, pressing palms together, repetition of words, lack of consideration, bluntness, jerking (when suddenly touched), and prone to lashing out 

LIFESTYLE

HOME/APARTMENT/DORM/OTHER: Lives in a house with his parents and older sister (unless stated otherwise) PLACE OF BIRTH: Russia METHOD OF TRAVEL: It varies on the day because he can get around with many of his inventions, but for the most part it’s walking PHONE: iPhone (which is modified to his own benefit) LAPTOP/COMPUTER: Various of the highest quality computers and laptops found within his laboratory, and his main one is programmed and invited by himself aka his A.I: Quadraplex T-3000 Computer PETS: Has a lab monkey that he so eloquently calls Monkey FURTHEST EDUCATION: Is a Junior majoring in Computer Science at Corona University 

CAREER: Scientist and is part of Daniel “Danny” Fenton's Paranormal Investigator Netflix Series Team

DRUGS/ALCOHOL USE: Debatable

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demi-Romantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demi-sexual  AVAILABILITY: Single LANGUAGES: English, Russian, German, Scottish, Italian, Spanish, Latin......etc

PHOBIAS: Any form of physical contact that isn’t initiated by him or not done by his older sister and Mandark succeeding in destroying his lab and inventions for the final time HOBBIES: Inventing, coding, conducting experiments, anything science related really, revenge, bragging, going on about how correct he is, playing chess, collecting justice friends comics, and literature SOCIAL MEDIA: Facebook, Twitter and Instagram (But rarely uses any of them since he deems them unimportant and a waste of his time)

FAVORITE

LOCATION: His secret laboratory GAMES: Video games MUSIC: Techno and Alternative SHOWS: Science Fiction, Action, Futuristic, and anything with Major Glory in it MOVIES: Science Fiction all the way and Science documentaries  FOOD: Sandwiches BEVERAGE: Black coffee COLOR: Purple, orange and blue

CHARACTER

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral WESTERN ZODIAC: Scorpio CHINESE ZODIAC: Snake HOGWARTS HOUSE: Part Ravenclaw and Part Slytherin SONG: Polarize by Twenty One Pilots

[the-a-word-2214]

1980’s OC

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Veruca Elizabeth Jones

Meaning: Veruca- Vivacious, Elizabeth- My God is an oath, Jones- John’s son

Origin, who named her- The name means wart. Her mother named her this because her mother had just read the book “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” right before she went into labor and loved the name.

Mother’s perspective- “My little Ruca has always been a feisty little thing. She gets it from me.”

𝑵𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑵𝑨𝑴𝑬

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Ruca – Baby

Explain the meaning of each nickname here. - Ruca comes from her mother, it came naturally when she was little because Veruca was intimidating for a little girl. Baby comes from James, he started calling her that early on in their relationship and it stuck.

How often is she called that? - Anytime she visits her Mom she’ll call her Ruca and James has since adopted the nickname for her in addition to calling her Baby.

𝑨𝑮𝑬

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November 24th, 1964 – age 17-23 in 1981-1987

Do they act their age or not? Do they look older or younger than their actual age? - She acts like she’s an 18-year-old most of the time and can often be described as the life of the party until someone gets hurt, then she turns into the mom friend and becomes protective over her friends. ⠀

𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑻𝒀

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Human – Female – Heterosexual - She/Her

Does your character identify as their biological sex? If so/not, then why? What are their preferred pronouns? Regarding their orientation, are they open about it? - She’s confident in her sexuality and gender and has never felt differently about either.

𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝑰𝑪𝑺

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𝑁𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 – 𝐸𝑡ℎ𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 - 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠

American - Caucasian - English

Where are they from? What is their race? What are the respective ethnicities of their parents? Has it played a significant role in their life How? Are they proud of their origin? Do they practice customs relative to their origin? - She’s from Downey, California. Her parents are also Californian but some of her relatives are from England and various parts of Europe. She always enjoyed the Californian lifestyle and liked listening to music on her record player or sitting on the roof and listening to music as a teen.

How many languages can they speak? Which is their first language? How fluent are they in each language? Do they have a particular accent? - She has a slight Californian accent, but not much of one. She’s fluent in English just like the next person.

𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑺

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𝑅𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 – 𝑂𝑐𝑐𝑢𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 – 𝐹𝑖𝑛. 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑠

Where do they currently live? How are their living conditions? What do they do for a living? Are they considered lower, middle, or upper class? Are they happy with their social standing? - She lives in an apartment with James for now until they go back on the road again. She’s the lead guitarist for her band “Lust”. She formed the band with her three friends and will often sing backing vocals. She’s made a fair amount of money so far in her career and her association with Metallica has earned her more money as well. She often opens for them with her band. She’s considered Middle Class at the moment.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝑩𝑶𝑫𝒀

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Curvy - slim

5’1 ft - 122 lbs

Describe your character's body. Are they tall? Petite? Muscular? Lean? Are they overweight? Underweight? Do they have any scars or other natural markings? - She’s petite and is an average weight for her height. She has some stretch marks around her breasts and hips but those are natural. She has a handful of freckles and moles on her arms and legs, but not many.

𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑵

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Pale - Sensitive

Describe their skin. What type is it? Is it genetic? Do they have any blemishes, scars, marks, freckles, etc? Does it burn or tan easily? Is it soft or rough? Any calluses? - She has sensitive skin that burns easily in the sun. Her skin is smooth but her hands are callused from guitar playing.⠀

𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑹

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Purple - Curly

Is their hair color natural or dyed? How does their hair type impact them? Is it genetic? Why do they have their current hairstyle? - Her hair is naturally curly and brown but she dyed it Purple when she was 16 and never went back. She adopted her mother’s hair type. She keeps it shoulder length because shorter hair suits her face shape. The shorter the hairstyle, the tighter her curls are.⠀

𝑬𝒀𝑬𝑺

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Hazel – Almond

Describe their eye color. Do they prefer colored contacts? If so, what color? What about the shape of their eyes? How does it affect their overall appearance? Are they visually impaired? Do they wear glasses whether for need or aesthetic? - Her eyes are almond-shaped and hazel. They’ve also been described as light brown. She has 20/20 vision so she’s never needed glasses.

𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑶𝑶𝑺

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Inner left forearm

Describe their tattoos. How or why did they get it? Where is it? What does it look like? What is its significance based on either location or the design itself? - She has a candle on top of a skull on her inner left forearm. The meaning behind it is a reminder of her mortality and how she needs to wake up and smell the roses every now and then.

𝑷𝑰𝑬𝑹𝑪𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺

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Septum

Describe their piercings. How or why did they get them? Where are they? What do they look like? What is the significance of them? - She has her lobes and septum pierced. She liked the look of the septum ring so she got one. It’s normally just a simple silver ring in her septum and she likes wearing long, dangly earrings.

𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑹𝑬

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𝑆𝑡𝑦𝑙𝑒

Describe their scars. How or why did they get them? Where are they? What do they look like? How old are they? How do they feel about them? - She doesn’t like her stretch marks because she’s had them since she was a teen. They remind her of when she would compare herself to other girls.

⠀ ⠀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝑷𝑯𝒀𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳

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𝐴𝑖𝑙𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 – 𝐴𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑦 – 𝑇𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡

Anxiety - Pollen - Medication

Describe your character's physical health. Is it poor? Fair? Great? Any ailments, disabilities, etc, and their severity. Any allergies? Are their conditions hereditary? Did something develop later in life? What treatment do they receive for these issues if they do receive treatment? - She only has minor allergy problems when it comes to pollen like a lot of other people. She’s had it since she was little. She takes medication for her anxiety.

𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑳

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6/10

𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 – 𝑇𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑡

Describe your character's mental health. Is it poor? Fair? Great? Do they have any disorders that have or haven't been diagnosed? How severe are these disorders? Is it hereditary or not? Do they take anything to help? Therapy or prescription? - She has severe anxiety when it comes to big crowds but being on stage helps her overcome it. She was diagnosed with PTSD when she was 18 because of her father’s negligence and that gave her abandonment issues.

𝑳𝑰𝑭𝑬𝑺𝑻𝒀𝑳𝑬

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𝐷𝑖𝑒𝑡

Describe your character's lifestyle and how it affects their health. What do they eat? What do they not eat? Is it for health purposes? Moral purposes? Do they exercise? How often? What is the focus of their exercises? - She does aerobics when she can and she makes sure to stretch before she goes on stage.

𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰

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ENFP

Insert a description of your character's MBTI personality type. - “Don’t lose that little spark of madness.” She’s a very idealistic person who is very in tune with her feelings and emotions. She’s great at communicating, curious, energetic, observant. Gets stressed easily, she overthinks things. She’s highly emotional.

𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑵𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

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Lawful Good

Describe your character's moral alignment. - She can oppose evil with the discipline to fight relentlessly. She hates to see the guilty go unpunished. Lawful good combines honor and compassion.

𝒁𝑶𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑪

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Sagittarius

Insert a description of your character's zodiac and how it affects their personality. Take note of negative and positive traits. Or even how your character's personality doesn't align with their zodiac. - Wild, feisty, independent, and exciting. She can be seen as being blunt because she is so in tune with her emotions and doesn’t hesitate to say what she thinks. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

𝑯𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑺

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Whistling – Hair playing

Describe your character's habits. When did they develop? When do these habits usually occur? Is it simply routine or a coping mechanism? - Whistling is a way for her to focus on one thing and drown out the chaos around her when it comes to being too much. She plays with her hair when she’s nervous or flirting.

𝑯𝑶𝑩𝑩𝑰𝑬𝑺

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Art collector – Candlemaking

Describe their hobbies. Are they any good at them? How did they discover them? Have they always enjoyed them? Did they find any talent in them? - She started collecting art when she was in her teens and could afford small pieces that she liked. She’s always been good at candle making. Each member of Metallica has a unique candle to resemble them.

𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑺

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Abandonment – Failure

Describe both mild and irrational fears here. Mild fears can be something like fear of abandonment or failure. While irrational fears or phobias can be something like claustrophobia or arachnophobia. How did they develop them? How do they affect their life, their behavior, their lifestyle? What happens when they face the subject of their fears? - Because her father left when she was little, the trauma of that has always stuck with her. She felt like she wasn’t good enough and that he left because of her. Her fears of failure also stem from her Dad leaving.

𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑺

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To have a family

Describe the goals, desires, and dreams your character has. Is it a career? Something they want out of life? How long have they had them? Do they have any expectations? Any plans to fulfill them? Why do they want to fulfill them? - One of her goals for the future is to have children simply because it always seemed appealing to her.

𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺

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Guitar playing – Good memory

Describe their talents. Why or how did they become good at them? Was this a natural affinity or a learned skill? Are they passionate about it? Were they forced to learn it or did they naturally happen upon it? - She’s a self-taught guitarist. She had a similar start to James in the sense that she just picked up a friend’s guitar and started playing. She slowly learned how to get better at it over time and by 20 she was practically a master.

Describe your character's abilities. Include mental abilities such as good memory or critical thinking. Include physical abilities such as strength or quick reaction. Why do they have this ability? How proficient are they? Are these natural skills or something they trained to attain - She remembers moments from her childhood and details that other people don’t remember. She can remember the good times and can easily reminisce.

𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑺

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𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 4/10

𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒: 8/10

𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦: 8/10

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑎: 5/10

𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒: 8/10

𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑚: 6/10

𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘: 7/10

𝑴𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹

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Melissa Jones

Describe your character's mother and their relationship with your character. Is it positive or negative? Do they live together? Are they close or distant? Why? Do they still talk? How often? - Her mother was into all things hippie-like. She always gave back to the earth and was the epitome of a flower child. She was a single mother until her death.⠀

𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹

───────────

Robert Jones

Describe your character's father and their relationship with your character. Is it positive or negative? Do they live together? Are they close or distant? Why? Do they still talk often? - Her relationship with her father is nonexistent because once he left he never attempted to reconnect with Ruca.

𝑺𝑰𝑩𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮

───────────

Moonbeam Jones

Describe your character's sibling(s) and their relationship with your character. Is it positive or negative? Do they live together? Are they close or distant? Why? Do they still talk? How often? - She fought with Moon when they were little but they grew closer together once they got older.

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑵𝑬𝑹

───────────

James Hetfield

Describe your character's partner and their relationship with your character. Is it positive or negative? How did they meet? How long have they been together? What is their current relationship status? Do they live together? Are they close or distant? Why? Do they still talk? How often? - She met James when Metallica had been going for two years in ‘83. They’ve been inseparable ever since and he was immediately smitten with her when they met. They live together in an apartment in LA but they’re just dating right now.⠀

𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑫

───────────

Tiffany Rogers

Describe your character's friends and their relationship with your character. Is it positive or negative? How did they become friends? How long have they been friends? Are they close or distant? Why? Do they still talk? How often? - They’ve been friends since they were little and Tiffany is Lust’s bassist. They’re really close and Ruca can confide in her for almost anything.

𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑫𝑯𝑶𝑶𝑫

───────────

6-11

Describe your character's childhood. How were they raised? What did they experience as a child? Describe your character's current activity if they're still a child. - She was raised in a free-spirited environment and she was never allowed to dissect animals in middle school. She would draw and sit on the roof as a child.

𝑨𝑫𝑶𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬

───────────

12-17

Describe your character's adolescence. What did they experience as a teen? Were there any turning points? Did they mature at all in this period? Describe your character's current activity if they're still a teen. - She learned guitar as a teen and began to get into rock and roll. She dyed her hair at 16 and started wearing makeup. This is when she began to rebel.

𝑨𝑫𝑼𝑳𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑶𝑫

───────────

18-25

Describe your character's adulthood. Their transition from a child until adulthood. What experiences did they have as an adult? Describe your character's current activity if they are still an adult. - She formed Lust with her childhood friend Tiffany and never looked back. She met James at a concert and fell head over heels in love with him. Who knows what the world will throw at her now?

[awkwardshanandagins]

It’s A Good Day To Feel Sorry for Myself

Friday, June 30, 2017, was a day I’ll always remember.  I wish I was saying that because something amazing happened in my life, but unfortunately, it was not amazing.  It was, however, life changing.

My lovely friend and hair dresser, Julia, worked me into a 7:00 a.m. appointment.  I told her a few days before that I was going to postpone getting my hair done since I’m not working and I don’t know if or when short term disability will kick in.  My pubey gray hairs were popping out all over my damn head but without knowing if I’m going to be paid, I didn’t want to spend money where I didn’t have to.  She wasn’t having it.  She knew how terrible I was feeling and told me I would feel better with pretty hair. S he convinced me to still come in and said she wouldn’t charge.  She’s one of my people.  She’s one you know will lift your spirits when you’re having a hard time crawling out of your black hole.  Not only was she not charging me, she worked me in when she didn’t really have an opening.  So 7:00 a.m. it was.

I always enjoy my time with Julia.  She is friends with my sister and my parents and she knows everything about our family.  She’s easy to talk to and always listens while I bitch about my problems.  Hair stylists are also therapists so if you can’t afford both, pick a hair stylist, you’ll get therapy too!

I was a nervous wreck on Friday.  It was day three into my three to five day wait for my MRI results.   Were they really going to make me go five days? That means I would have sat all weekend long just letting this shit eat away at me.

I had a doctor’s appointment that day at 10:10 with my OBGYN.  It was the post op to the laparoscopy I had the month prior.  I got there early, per usual.  My whole life is pretty much me showing up early to things and waiting.  It’s a problem.  Anyways, I’m checking in at the little kiosk Kaiser offers now and my phone rings. I could tell by the number that it was Kaiser calling me.  Dear lord, here we go.  It was Dr. Miller, my optometrist wondering if I had a few minutes.  I continued to check in while his voice rang through my head.  Honestly, I don’t even know how I checked myself in, I was not even paying attention to what I was doing.  Lucky for me, I’ve been spending so much time at Kaiser it was like second nature.  Dr. Miller informed me my MRI results came back and he did find white matter on my brain.  I’m using the term “white matter” loosely here.  I feel like that’s what he said but I don’t fully remember.  Basically, he found lesions throughout my brain.  He said he’d be referring me to a neurologist and they’d be calling me to make an appointment.  The lesions are what they look for to diagnose MS.  Don’t worry he assured me, it doesn’t mean I have it and the neurologist would be able to give me more answers.  Don’t worry? Okay sure.  He was able to diagnose the optic neuritis from the MRI so that was a definite.  Wooo!  One answer.  Finally, one definite answer. Also, don’t worry? You, sir, can suck it!  How do you not worry?  If anyone can answer that about any situation ever, I would be eternally grateful.  Anyone?  Bueller?

How do you not worry when so far you have every symptom of MS that you’ve seen.  First sign, optic neuritis?  Check!  Lesions on your brain shown in a MRI? Check!  Every other symptom I’ve been reading about for the last week and a half?   Check check check! It’s MS; I’ve already diagnosed myself.  Thanks, doctors, for starting to catch up.

I felt like I was punched in the gut.  I was now standing by the elevator which would take me up to my OBGYN appointment, only I wasn’t getting on.  Nope, instead I was standing in everyone’s way not realizing I was being the person I hate.  I cannot stand when people act as if only their presence matters and you can fucking walk around.   Once I realized I was blocking a man in a wheelchair, I stepped out of the way.  “So do I have it or not have it?”  I’m sure I sounded completely panicked and breathy.  It could really go either way he said.  He ended the call by telling me to write everything down because the neurologist would pretty much interrogate me.  He also informed me he couldn’t fill out the FMLA paperwork and to take it to the neurologist.

My boss had pretty much forced me into taking time off earlier in the week.  I’m pretty sure it was God working through her.  He knew I needed to not be working and that I wouldn’t step back myself so he shoved me into it.  Not working relieved stress over the past two days, but dealing with HR and FMLA added it’s own level of stress.

Checked in for my appointment, I sat down in the waiting room as far away from people as I could.  My eyes were welted with tears and I’m sure my face was as white as a sheet.  I sat there thinking what this means for my life.  Should I call my husband? Or maybe text him? I was frozen. I didn’t do anything.  I just sat there, staring at a wall, mouth half opened with a glazed over look in my eyes.  I definitely looked crazy at this point.  That’s okay, crazy keeps people away.

The nurse, Lisa, probably the kindest soul I had encountered in some time, called me back. “How are you?”  I’m okay. Lies! I was far from okay but it is not socially acceptable to verbally diarrhea all over someone when they ask how you are. They are asking to be nice, not because they actually want to know. “Well, how have you been feeling?” She looked back at me, which by this time we were under some awesome fluorescent lights which make everyone look like a fucking nightmare and said “oh, you don’t look like you feel well.”

I completely broke down and not just because we were now standing next to the scale I knew my fat ass had to get on.   Poor Lisa.   She was so kind.   She got me kleenex while waiting for me to pull my shit together.   I somehow got a few words out and let her know I just got some scary news and hadn’t had time to process.  She rubbed my back while I sniffled and snotted all over the place for a few more seconds. It’s not unlike me to cry in public.  I’m a fucking disaster like 90% of the time.  At least this time I had good reason.  I let her know the news I had gotten and her face looked genuinely sad for me.

The table was unusually low to the ground this time.  I thought to myself that Dr. Barton would have to kneel if he was going to get face to face with my vagina. How odd.  We went through the normal questions while tears continued to stream down my face.  I had at least pulled myself together enough to talk.  She told me to get undressed from the waist down and the doctor would be in shortly.  I thought today was just for talking, but lucky me, I get to unleash the vagina.

Dr. Barton came in and immediately patted me on the back.  He said Lisa informed him of what’s going on and that he was so sorry.  He sat in front of me, which I was at like chest height from the damn table being so low.  Awkward.  He told me how his mom had MS and that if she were alive today, she would have been a different woman with all the advances they’ve made with treatments.  We talked about my pain I was still having.  Pelvic pain has been a constant in my life so I assumed the surgery just didn’t do what we had hoped.  He was concerned there were other issues.  He pushed around on my abdomen while giving me the ol’ one-two POW.  You know, the two finger exam.  Everything hurt.   Everything. He got the cold metal rod out.  My favorite.  That felt like a fucking dagger being jolted into my uterus.  I had my head turned towards the wall, tears still streaming down my face.  He told me he wanted to look at my ovaries since he did the ovarian drilling; he wanted to make sure they were healing appropriately.  Out comes the giant wand.  I seriously wanted to cry just looking at it.  Oh that’s right, I was already crying.  Holy balls that thing hurt.

“Well you have a large cyst on your left ovary.”  Cool.  Do you want to just punch me in the fucking face while you’re at it?  Just add it to the list of reasons I’m feeling sorry for myself and let’s move on.  He let me know it definitely wasn’t there during surgery and had developed since.  He assured me this is good news because tumors don’t usually show up this fast so it had to be a normal cyst.  He said he’d watch it to be sure but he was almost certain it would go away on it’s own.  If not, it would require more surgery.  That’s a fun thought right now.  I really hope at this point, you can read the sarcasm in my head.

Not only was the cyst present, he was sure I had a uterine infection from the surgery.  He apologized that he caused that but said sometimes it just happens, even with the sterile room and tools used during surgery.  He felt genuinely bad.  He knew it was just adding to my sadness.  I assured him it’s not his fault, simply what my body does.  I got an infection when I had a uterine biopsy as well.  That PA let the infection go for a few months though.  At least he was catching this now.  He said my pain is from a mix of the cyst and the infection.  He ordered an antibiotic shot to give me for the infection and quickly realized he couldn’t give it to me because of my penicillin allergy.   Instead, I got a lovely 14 day supply of doxycyclene.  Fun!  Now I can’t even drink my problems away and to top it off, a yeast infection will be in my near future no matter how much yogurt I eat or probiotics I take.  I’m convinced at this point my body hates me.

Finished up the appointment with a urine test and a super long line at the pharmacy.  Dr. Barton scheduled me an appointment for the following Monday to check in on the infection.  If I am still in pain by then, he’s going to add another antibiotic into the mix.  The optometrist’s office called and had scheduled me a follow up appointment as well, for the end of July to check my vision.  The neurologist’s office called me while I was in line at the pharmacy. They scheduled me for July 17th.  Why in the world would they make people wait that long?  I’m pretty sure they are here to torture me.  Too dramatic?

I had a lot of time just sitting by myself throughout the 2+ hours at Kaiser.  I tend to be a dramatic person, I’m aware of this.  Usually by now, I would have texted and called all my family members to tell them what is wrong with me but today was different.  This was a lot.  I needed time to process and gather my thoughts.  I still had that panicky dumb face on throughout it all but it kept people far away from me so I didn’t even try to change it.

As soon as I got in my car, I let go.  I let the tears gush out.   There had been a very slow and steady trickle but now it was like fucking Niagara Falls.  I pulled it together quick.  There was a cute little family by my car looking around for their car.  They had no idea where they parked.  I sympathized.  I’m usually that person.

First call I made was to Paul.  I told him what was going on while I sobbed. Sobbing, driving, talking on the phone, all with only one eye.   I’ve gotten pretty good at this over the last week.  By the end of the call, I could hear him crying on his end.  This shattered my heart.  I cannot stand to hear my husband cry.  He has the softest and kindest soul of anyone I know.  I hate that he was hurting.  I assured him I would be okay and everything would be fine.  I like taking care of other people, it helps take the focus off myself.

I called my mom next.  She and my dad had just recently retired and were on a trip to Maine with my aunts and uncles.  They almost didn’t even go because of everything going on but I assured them they needed to go and have some fun.  There was absolutely nothing they could do so there was no point in canceling.  My mom was so sad at everything I had to tell her.  She wept on the phone and promised me she didn’t do cocaine while she was pregnant with me.  This has been an ongoing joke in my family for sometime.  We have sick humor.  I don’t know about anyone else, but I cannot handle when my parents cry.  It breaks my heart to hear them so sad.  I promised them I would be fine and they needed to enjoy the rest of their trip.

I called my sister and told her what was going on.  She and my parents are my biggest support after Paul.  She told me she’d be over to pick me up shortly because I needed to get out of the house and be around people.  As much as I wanted to curl up in a ball and hide, she was right.  We went and walked around Olde Town which is only a few blocks from my house.  We took her two youngest to the candy store and she and I got coffee at this cute little place called Global Goods.  We sat and talked and laughed.  My sister and I can always laugh.  We are our own biggest fans.  We find ourselves hilarious.  We went to the Army Navy Surplus store where I bought a pair of sweats I wanted to live in for the next few months.  I won’t actually allow myself to.  However, I am wearing them at this moment.  We all need a good pair of fat pants.   Then we headed to the library to check out some books and movies.  The library is my favorite place again.  I stopped visiting the library when I was super young.  I had been buying books I want to read over the past couple years which is so dumb. Why buy them when you can check them out for free?  Especially now that I’m not working.

I checked out a book on MS.  My sister opened it up and just so happened to start reading at a point where it said “it’s okay to feel sorry for yourself.”  Phew! Good thing because I’m in that stage hardcore.

I’m thankful my sister picked me up.  I didn’t know how much I needed her but I did.  She also ended up waxing my eyebrows which I didn’t even know how much I needed. They were quickly turning into a uni.  I spent the rest of that evening crying and shoving my face with pizza.   Probably should have eaten healthier at that moment but cooking was the last thing I wanted to do.

This has definitely not been one of my better weekends.  As much as I’ve been keeping myself busy, the crazy and usually depressing thoughts just pop back up at the most inconvenient times.  I know it will all be okay and in a sense, I am relieved at the news.  I have not felt well or even right for a few years.  Doctors have made me feel crazy as they’ve continually told me that I’m fine because my blood work was normal.  Obviously, not everything shows in your blood.  I should have pushed harder.  You definitely have to be your own advocate when it comes to doctors and I had let myself down the past couple years.

As devastating as the news is, I can see the silver lining.  There is now light at the end of this very dark tunnel.  I had given up hope that they would ever figure out why I always felt so terrible.  I had accepted the fact that I was probably just crazy and a hypochondriac.  I had accepted the fact that I was just always going to feel this way.  I no longer have to accept that.  With a diagnosis comes a treatment plan.  I can feel like a normal person again and that is something I never thought would come.

This is just yet another bump in the road on our infertility journey.  Life has some unexpected twists and turns but we’ll ride it out because we know God has good things in store for us, even though we may not understand his timing of it all.

[clydesanders-rp-blog]

 Full name: Clyde Micheal Sanders 

Pronunciation: CLY-DE

Nickname(s) or alias:  Clyde 

Preferred name: Clyde

Current age: twenty 

Astrological sign: Leo 

Element:Fire 

Title: MR

Label: The misfit 

Gender:  Male

Preferred pronouns: He/him

Sexual preference: bisexual 

Romantic preference: Grayromantic

Resides in: Princeton, NJ

Current occupation: student 

Language(s) spoken: english 

Native language:  english 

Current marital status: 

( &&. background )

Reason behind name: his mother named him after clyde barrow 

Birth order:  first born 

Ethnicity: CAUCASIAN

Nationality:  American 

Species: human 

Religion: catholic 

Political views: none

Financial status: rich 

IQ: 127

Hometown: Santa monica, CA

( &&. physical appearance )

Looks like (or face claim, if applicable): cole sprouse 

Height: 6′0 

Weight: 170 

Shoe size: 12

Figure/build: slim

Hair colour, Dyed?: raven

Hair length: short

Eye colour: green

Glasses? Colour? / Contacts? Are they coloured?:

Shape of face: round

Facial hair: 

Do they shave/wax? Where?: 

Skin tone: white

Tattoos: none

Piercings: none

Birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: birthmarks 

Dominant hand: right

If painted, what color are their nails/toenails?: 

Usual style of clothing: casual 

Frequently worn jewelry: gold rolex 

Describe their voice, what accent?: none

What is their speaking style (fast, monotone, loquacious)?: loquacious

Describe their scent: soap and cigarettes 

Describe their posture: normal 

( &&. legal information )

Birth Name: (if changed)

Other names they go by:

Any speeding tickets?: yes

Have they ever been arrested?: yes

Do they have a criminal record?:  no

Have they committed any violent crimes?: no

Property crimes?: no

Traffic crimes?: yes

Other crimes?: no

( &&. medical information )

Blood type: o positive 

Date/time of birth: 8/4/97 , 9am

Place of birth: santa monica, CA

Vaginal birth or cesauren section?: vaginal 

Sex: Male

Diet: regular 

Smoker? / Drinker? / Drug User?, Which?:  all

Addictions: cannabis, xanax and alcohol 

Allergies: none

Do they get occasional checkups?: yes

Ever broken a bone?: yes

Hospital visits, what for?: overdoses 

Any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: none

Any medication regularly taken: none

( &&. career information )

Past occupation(s): modeling 

Why are they no longer working as it?: disagreements with the boss

Do they enjoy their current occupation?: yes

Why do they do it?: for fun

How did they end up in their current occupation?: personal manger 

How long have they been in their current occupation?:  3 years

( &&. personality )

Direct quote from them: ‘ life is too short so do what you want to do’

Positive traits: warmhearted, affectionate, helpful

Negative traits: moody, ill tempered, impulsive 

Likes: working out, music, reading, sleeping 

Dislikes: crowded places

Strengths: photography, science 

Weaknesses:  Math, flirting 

Insecurities: his nose 

Fears/phobias: being stuck in tight spaces

Habits: playing with hair , biting nails, shaking leg 

Quirks: always chewing gum

Hobbies: photography 

Guilty pleasure: xanax 

Desires: to travel the world 

Wishes:  to go back in time 

Regrets: not forgiving his mother for leaving 

Secrets: he was involved in a drunken hit and run 

Turn ons: neck kisses 

Turn offs: spitting 

Kinks/fetishes: being tied up

Superstitions: opening an umbrella inside 

Lucky number: 7

Pet peeves: People Who Don't Cover Their Cough/sneeze, animal cruelty 

Their motto: you only live once 

( &&. favourites )

Food: pasta 

Drink: mountain dew 

Fast food restaurant: olive garden 

Flavour: vanilla 

Word: dope

Colour: red

Clothing: gucci

Accessory: gold rolex 

Candle scent: apple cinnamon 

Store: apple

Instrument: guitar

Game: call of duty black opps 

Occupation: student 

Animal: dog 

Holiday: halloween 

Weather: cold

Season: fall

Book: hunger games

Artist: eminem 

Band/group: linkin park 

Song: what’s my age again by blink 182

Movie/film: Constantine

TV show: south park 

Sport: lacrosse 

Sports team: the giants 

Quote: ‘live fast die young’ 

School subject: english 

Possession: ring 

Name: clyde 

Number: 7

Emoji: purple devil 

Mythological creature: Zeus

( &&. skills )

Talents: photography 

Special powers/abilities: none

Ability to drive a car? Operate any other vehicles?: yes

Can they ride a bike?:yes

Do they play any sports?: yes 

Anything they’re bad at?: singing 

Do they have any combat training? Why?: N/A

( &&. firsts )

Childhood memory: hearing mom and dad arguing 

Crush: the girl from next door 

Email address: clydesanders@yahoo.com

Job: photographer 

Phone: iphone 7 

Computer: mac

Kiss: the girl next door

Love: N/A

Sexual experience: in her bedroom 

( &&. childhood )

Best childhood memory?:  opening presents on christmas 

Worst childhood memory?: getting an ass whooping from dad

What were they like as a child?: energetic 

Any crushes growing up?: brother’s best friend 

Did they know/like their parents?:yes

Worst influence on them as a kid?: brother 

Did they have a lot of friends?: no

Were they heavily punished?: yes

Anything they wish they could cut out?: ass beatings from dad

Were they more feminine or masculine?: masculine 

Were they an early or late bloomer for puberty?: late 

Do they still know any of their childhood friends?: yes

Did they have any chores? What?: dishes and garbage 

Describe their childhood home: mansion 

( &&. this or that )

Expensive or inexpensive tastes?: expensive 

Hygienic or Unhygienic?: hygienic 

Open-minded or close-minded?: open 

Introvert or extrovert?: introvert 

Optimistic or pessimistic?: pessimistic 

Daredevil or cautious?: daredevil 

Logical or emotional?: emotional 

Generous or stingy?: generous 

Polite or rude?: polite 

Book smart or street smart?: both

Dominant or submissive?: dominant 

Popular or loner?: loner

Leader or follower?: leader 

Day or night person?: night

Cat or dog person?: dog

Closet door open or closed while sleeping?: closed

( &&. family relationships )

Father: Michael  Bryan Sanders 

Describe their relationship: rocky 

Mother: Hayley Lockwood 

Describe their relationship: estranged 

Brothers: Bryan elton sanders 

Describe their relationship: love/hate 

( &&. other relationships )

Best friend: N/A

Childhood friend: peter vega 

Enemy: brice evans 

Past romances: N/A

Pets: dogs 

Heroes: superman 

( &&. social media )

Do they have a Facebook? Twitter? Instagram? Vine? Snapchat? Tinder/Grindr? Tumblr? YouTube?

If so; Name on Facebook: Clyde sanders 

Twitter handle: @clydesanders

Instagram user: @clydesanders

Vine user: none

Snapchat user: @snap-clyde

Name on Tinder/Grindr: none

Tumblr URL: 

YouTube channel:Clydesandersvlogs

( &&. musical tastes )

Theme song: Heathens top

Can relate to: crawling linkin park 

Makes them happy: always blink 182

Makes them sad: i miss you blink 182

Makes them dance:  wake me up before you go 

Loves the most: heavy linkin park 

Describes them: numb linkin park 

Never gets tired of: leave out all the rest linkin park

Would like to be played at their wedding: i was made for loving you ED sheeran

Would like to play at their funeral: 27 MGK

( &&. miscellaneous )

Do they have a fake I.D.?: yes 

Are they a virgin?: no 

Describe their signature: cursive and neat 

How long would they survive in a zombie apocalypse?: until the end 

Do they travel?: yes

One place they would like to live: bora bora 

One place they would like to visit: Egypt 

Celebrity crush: megan fox 

What can you find in their pockets/wallet/purse: general 

Place(s) your character can always be found: beach 

When does your character like to wake up?: late

What’s your character’s morning routine?: normal 

What does your character eat for breakfast/lunch/dinner?: poptarts, anything that’s good 

How does your character spend their free days?: clubbing 

What’s your character’s bedtime routine?: normal 

What does your character wear to bed?: boxers

If your character can’t fall asleep, what are they thinking about?: life 

What has been their greatest achievement?: making 8 mill on youtube 

What is their idea of perfect happiness?: finishing school and getting married 

What or who is the greatest love of their life?: girlfriend 

On what occasions do they lie?: none 

Most marked characteristic: eyes and hair 

What is one thing they’d most like to change about themselves?: nothing 

How would they like to die?: sleeping 

Do they snore?: no

Do they chew their pens/pencils?: yes 

Can they whistle?: yes 

Do they believe in the supernatural?: no 

Have they ever cheated on anyone?: no 

Have they ever been cheated on?: yes

Has anyone ever broken their heart?: yes

Have they ever broken anyone’s heart?:no 

Are they squeamish?: depends

Have they ever killed anyone? Why? How?: no

Have they ever seen anyone die? What happened?: yes, a friend got shot during a shoot out 

Are they a lightweight?: no

[themomsandthecity]

If You See Someone With a Blue Halloween Bucket, Here's What You Need to Know

Halloween can be stressful for any parent - between the candy, the costumes, the social pressures, and more, it's undoubtedly difficult - but for parents of children with autism or other disabilities, the weight of the holiday is heavier than many can imagine. Because of this, one mother is on a mission to make things a little less tense for her 3-year-old son and also spread Autism Awareness with a unique candy bucket for the upcoming holiday. In a Facebook post last week, Omairis Taylor explained why she's encouraging the use of a blue Halloween candy bucket. "My son is 3 years old and has autism. He is nonverbal. Last year houses will wait for him to say TRICK OR TREAT in order for him to get a piece of candy and there I go explaining the situation for the next 5 blocks," she wrote. "This year we will be trying the BLUE BUCKET to signify he has autism. Please allow him (or anyone with a BLUE BUCKET) to enjoy this day and don't worry, I'll still say TRICK OR TREAT for him, I'll get my mom candy tax later 😁. This holiday is hard enough without any added stress. Thank you in advance." It's incredibly important for those who answer the door for trick-or-treaters to understand the significance of the blue bucket. Be patient and be kind with every person celebrating the holiday, but be especially considerate of those with a blue bucket. While the feedback surrounding the blue bucket has been relatively positive among parents of children with autism, many have called out that there's no need to draw attention to or call someone out for being different. "I don't want to make my kid announce her neurology to strangers and carry around a sign that she's different," one mother wrote on Twitter. A few years ago, the Teal Pumpkin Project was started to welcome trick-or-treaters with allergies. The nontraditional pumpkins are placed outside of homes to indicate that there is a nonfood option for trick-or-treaters. It's important to be aware of these varying situations without judgement and do everything we can to make sure everyone can enjoy Halloween. Related: 26 Halloween Movies For Kids Based on Their Age http://bit.ly/2JmTH7m

[ixvyupdates]

My Sister’s Battle With Severe Mental Illness Taught Me Never to Stand for Pretense

My parents, Jerry and Emily, had three daughters. I’m the oldest, followed by Carla two years later, and then my youngest sister. Carla, I’m told, was difficult from birth, more moody and unhappy than typical babies.

When Carla was a preteen her difficulties escalated. She was impulsive, struggled socially, experienced periods of depression and, while very smart, struggled in school, perhaps from some undiagnosed learning disabilities. She had a wicked sense of humor but could be mean and manipulative. When she was 12 a doctor wondered if she was suicidal.

Our family’s story is not unique. According to NAMI, about 1 in 5 people in the U.S. have had some degree of mental illness and 1 in 25 have serious disorders. When a mentally ill family member is a child, the adults’ management of the disease has serious implications for siblings.

Think of a family as a mobile dangling over an infant’s crib. For the mobile to work properly, all the hanging items (faces, baby animals, stars) must be balanced. If one item is too heavy or spins out of sync, every other item is affected. Either the mobile rebalances itself through a different distribution of weight or you’re left with careening chaos.

My family spun out of control. But no one knew, not even our closest relatives, because of a tacit rule that we unquestioningly protect the facade. No shade on my parents: They loved us to the moon and back and struggled fiercely to weave the narrative of a balanced, normal family.

The fact that my mom was a school social worker made it worse for her. In those days mental illness was more stigmatized than it is now. How could my mom face the world with a problem she imagined she should be able to fix?

She couldn’t fix Carla. What was obvious was never discussed. We lived a life of pretense.

Every week at exactly the same time, we pretended my mom would take Carla shopping in order to avoid acknowledging that she was seeing a psychologist.

My youngest sister hid her stellar report cards at my parents’ prompting so Carla wouldn’t feel inferior and act out.

In the driveway of my aunt and uncle’s house Carla punched me in the stomach so hard I had the breath knocked out of me, but I knew to just get up and not cry so relatives wouldn’t catch on.

When Carla suffered an accident—she and my youngest sister were taking a summer woodshop class at a nearby school and her hair got caught in a lathe—I was fiercely instructed to go to the kitchen and have lunch with her while pretending she didn’t have a bloody bald spot.

I Survived By Not Pretending

When the family mobile spins out of control, one sibling usually survives. Although I have had my own struggles with depression and anxiety, I was our family’s survivor. My solution was to leave, which I did at age 17, and rarely come back.

Meanwhile, depending on whichever doctor Carla was seeing at the time, she was diagnosed with some combination of schizoaffective disorder, clinical depression, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, psychosis, ADHD, panic disorder, anxiety disorder. Also, she was “dual diagnosis,” which means that in addition to her mental health labels she was also a drug addict.

Eventually, Carla’s drug addiction took center stage, especially when she got hooked on heroin. I’d see her now and then, mostly at family holidays. My then-boyfriend, now-husband and I drove up to SUNY Oswego to see her once. I visited her at various rehab units and also in Creedmore, a psychiatric hospital in Queens where she was undergoing electroconvulsive therapy (which didn’t work).

Carla had a sad life that ended when she died in her apartment six years ago of a heroin overdose. No one found her for three days. Her life was sad for many reasons, primarily because endless doctors and medications were unable to ameliorate her illness, but also because our family system of pretense enabled her worst tendencies and hurt those who loved her most.

I struggle to find some redeeming aspect of her life.

I can only find it in my own.

Our three older children are what we in the special-needs community call “neuro-typical.” Jonah, our youngest, has Fragile X Syndrome, a genetic mutation that can lead to a constellation of symptoms, including global developmental delays.

Ironically, one of the reasons I wanted a fourth child was to avoid replicating the literal dynamics of my original family, but we ended up replicating a different sort of dysfunction due to Jonah’s extraordinary demands of time and resources.

We’ve gotten lots of things wrong. But at least there’s no pretense. We don’t try to be “normal.”

We don’t make my other kids pretend that Jonah, whom we all love to the moon and back, hasn’t cheated them out of opportunities, hasn’t made our world smaller, hasn’t perpetually altered our balance, hasn’t affected them all in negative—and, they tell me, also positive—ways.

Then again, it’s easier for us than for my parents because Jonah’s problems are unambiguously traced to that damned mutation I passed on to him.

Mental illness, however, is still stigmatized, still mysterious, still subtextually associated with shame. And when the sick person is smart, it’s harder to separate intentional behavior from symptoms.

Did Carla beat me up because she couldn’t control her tendency towards oppositional defiance or because she knew there would be no repercussions? Did she emotionally manipulate my sister (to the point of cruelty) as an expression of borderline personality disorder or because she was just flat-out mean?

Carla, then as now, remains a mystery to me. All I can do is learn from my parents’ mistakes and not pretend that my husband and I are raising a typical family. We try really hard not to lie about hard truths. We try really hard not to cloak our differences with a false patina of normalcy. And our kids are OK. Better than OK.

We eschew pretense. We seek it out and stomp on it.

Until We Confront Our Collective Pretenses About Education, Kids Will Keep Getting Hurt

I think that allergy to pretense explains why I react so strongly to educationally tinged charades, particularly in my home state of New Jersey—which is a reeling mobile unto itself, unbalanced by the destabilizing winds of adult-centric gamesmanship.

I watch politicians and lobbyists cloak themselves in artifice by scorning the state’s standardized test scores because they reveal unsettling truths about student learning. I watch higher-income parents, mostly White, demand a “moratorium” on public charter schools serving mostly low-income families of color, while they simultaneously buy their own way into high-performing suburban districts without any awareness that it’s also “school choice.” I watch the unending idolatry of local control, which allows schools to circumvent equity and accountability.

Why do I break out in hives? Because I know that children are victimized when adults, keen to evade troubling truths, allow the mobile to spin in vertiginous gyrations.

Our education system will lurch until we muster the collective will to confront our self-perpetuating pretenses. Sure, it’s hard, humbling work. But, trust me, it’s better than the alternative.

An original version of this appeared on NJ Left Behind as “My Sister Carla: A Personal Story About Mental Illness.”

Photo by GENNARO LEONARDI, Twenty20-licensed.

My Sister’s Battle With Severe Mental Illness Taught Me Never to Stand for Pretense syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com

[the-little-prophet]

CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE: CHARLIE LITTLE 

ORIGINS & FAMILY: Name: Charles Boon-Mee Kai Little   Nickname: Charlie, Kai (Kai is Charlie’s chu len-- or Thai nickname.) Reason for name: Charles’ father wanted Charlie to have an English name first and foremost and named Charlie after himself. Boon-Mee is Charlie’s Thai name which means “good fortune.” Kai was the nickname that his mother chose because he was born early and was very small. Kai means chicken. ;) Age: 19 Gender: Male Place of birth: Swynlake, England Places lived since: Nowhere! Number of siblings: Charlie has one stepbrother from his mother’s second marriage. He usually only sees them when he visits his mother-- usually twice a year, hardly ever more. 

Relationship with family (close? estranged?): Dad–Charles “Buck” Little used to be a pro baseball player from Los Angeles California, but an injury early on in his career benched him and ended that career. Instead, Charles “Buck” Little became an insurance agent and got a job working at InterPride until Taka Lyons took over and fired half his department. That was four years ago. Now Buck gets disability insurance and works at Pride U in their IT department.

Mum- Dr. Phailin Dilsworth, formerly Little, formerly Chaisurivirat. First-generation American, became a college professor and found a job teaching at Pride University where she had her first child, Charlie. She was NOT into the magick-friendly thing as much as Charles was and wanted to move for a long time. She blamed Swynlake as a big part as to why Charlie had his chronic sleeping disorder. Eventually she got a job teaching in a school down in Bournemouth and left Charlie and Buck when he was 9 years old. She remarried when he was 10 and moved with her husband, who was also a professor, to Toronto. Charlie talks to his mom on the phone every month or so and sees her for a few weeks in the summer/every other Christmas.

Sylvester Dilsworth- Charlie’s stepbrother-- same age-- who thinks Charlie is a #freak for growing up in Swynlake, aka England’s great failed experiment. Wants to go into Psychology like his dad (thinks Charlie is #crazy). Charlie does not like Syl.

PHYSICAL Height: 5’6 (teeny) Weight: 125 ish idk height Build: Charlie has always been very short since he was a child and grew very slowly. He’s kinda still hoping he’ll put on another inch or two before he’s done growing but… looking pretty hopeless Nationality: English Disabilities (physical or mental, including mental illnesses): Charlie has severe astigmatism in his eyes. He’s severely sleep-deprived and suffers from dissociative episodes. Complexion (freckles, acne, skin tone, birth marks): Olive-toned skin, and a few moles on his face and neck. Often times cuts himself shaving (does it like every few days) and so he’ll have tiny nicks here and there. Also misses lil hairs all the time, look he’s trying Distinguishing facial features: His very big thick glasses lmao and he’s got quite pretty eyes in my opinion, even if they are hidden behind his messy fringe and big, thick glasses.  Round cherub cheeks.

Hair color: Black. Usual hair style: Messy and long-- Charlie never has time to brush his hair in the morning   Eye color: Dark brown Glasses? Contacts?: yes to both though contacts bother his eyes.

Style of dress/typical outfit(s): Charlie comes from a middle-class family and dresses like a typical Brit-- sweaters over collared shirts, that kind of thing. He leans toward hipster-esque if only because he likes comfy sweaters because it’s easiest to fall asleep in haha, and he’s often seen around in pajama pants and zip up jumpers if he slept past his alarm and had no time to change. I would call his style “frumpy nerd chic.” Typical style of shoes: He wears a lot of Toms because they are comfy and easy to slip on, so you know, better than sandals. Health (is this person usually sick? or very resilient?): Chronically sleep-deprived, Charlie also suffers from migraines. He’s noticed that if he has bad migraines one day, he’ll probably have a night terror. Which stresses him out. And makes the migraine worse. Otherwise, Charlie is a relatively healthy young boy, with pollen allergies in the spring but no other sensitivities.   

Grooming (does she/he wear makeup? shower daily? wear only clean clothes? pluck her eyebrows?): NGL this could be better but it’s not his fault he’s just very tired. He does take a shower nearly every day (cold showers to wake him up) and does his own laundry so he had clean clothes. But he often does not brush his hair and wears hats to make up for it. Jewelry? Tattoos? Piercings?: None thus far! He does wear a watch. Accent?: Typical brit Unique mannerisms/physical habits: He rubs his eyes a lot and toys with his hair. He cleans his glasses both as a compulsion and because a lot of the time when he tries to rub his eyes he will hit his glasses and need to clean them from all the finger smears.   Athletic?: He’s pretty fast and limber due to yoga and many years spent running from disasters, whether real or imagined. But Charlie won’t be beating anybody up lol INTELLECT Level of education: Completed a nurse’s assistantship and has a pheblotomist’s license. Taking uni courses on the side, hopes to one day be a proper doctor/surgeon. Level of self esteem: Medium-low. Charlie feels like a burden to his father and a freak to other people even though he knows he can’t help his condition. Years of therapy mean he’s pretty in touch with his sense of self though so while he beats himself up, he does have coping mechanisms. He also knows he is trying his best !! Gifts/talents: An excellent drawer, a pretty great cook, and a hard worker. He also has a lot of practical life skills. He’s a practical guy. Shortcomings: He can struggle to concentrate because of his health issues, he’s pretty cowardly and paranoid, he overreacts, he’s a bit socially awkward (not in a shy kind of way-- Charlie is actually outgoing ish but because he doesn’t have many friends he doesn’t understand a lot of the social cues. His desperation for friendship is also Not Attractive). Style of speech (loud, mumbler, articulate, etc.): Nervous talker for sure. Doesn’t stammer, just goes on and on and on. Definitely overshares when nervous. “Left brain” or “right brain” thinker?: Left-brained.Charlie is deductive, rational, and wants to be a doctor someday. His secondary -claw is super strong and he craves an explanation for things and hates that he doesn’t have one for his night terrors. The fact that it could be magic also doesn’t comfort him but scares him, despite growing up in Swynlake (hey he thought he was a Mundus all the time ok!) beccause he doesn’t uNDeRstanD and can’t conTrol it. Artistic?: Yes, uses charcoal and pastels. Mathematical?: Yes, he’s p good at math. Languages? Just English. He once spoke in Tongues during one of his Doomer episodes but that was probably a glitch haha. His mother never taught him any Thai.

Makes decisions based mostly on emotions, or on logic?: Logic, always logic.

Neuroses: Thinks World Is Ending At All Times

Life philosophy: uh don’t die? Do the good you can with the tools you have. Be Prepared-- Two is one, and one is none (aka hvae two of everything; its a prepper mantra). 

Religious stance:  Is starting to explore aspects of buddhism which is tied to his Thai culture (something he’s very distanced from especially because his mother no longer lives with him and she was pretty removed from it too) and hopes will help him with his night terrors.

Cautious or daring?:  Cautious Optimist or pessimist?: Pessimist- the world is literally always ending.

Extrovert or introvert?: Ambivert, leaning to introversion. If Charlie had friends, he’d probably prefer smaller get togethers and that kind of thing but he would totally socialize and likes talking to people and working together in group projects charlie it is so sad that school is your main form of interaction.   Level of comfort with technology: Very comfortable. True millennial. Instagram, Twitter, FB, blog. He depends on his phone and computer a lot for his social life/coping mechanisms. He definitely has internet friends who are doomers like him.

RELATIONSHIPS Current marital/relationship status: Single Sexual orientation: Bi. Charlie doesn’t really think about romance that much because he’s mostly preoccupied with Death but he had a crush his bff as a smol boy (who was also a smol boy) and also has crushed on girls from afar (and tbh probably kinda crushes on Minnie a bit because she’s so pretty and kind to him). He never really questioned it and so its a nonissue for him. He would like to have a romantic life one day but kinda thinks its impossible like who would like him he’s CRAZY. He can’t even sleep a whole night thru let alone with another person in the bed.

Past relationships: As a boy, he had a crush on his bff at the time--Nate. Nate’s family moved away following one of Swynlake’s disasters bc they weren’t gonna fuck with that shit.

A social person? (popular, loner, some close friends, makes friends and then quickly drops them): Charlie is not afraid to strike up conversation and sort of accepts his reputation as a Crazy Person so that helps deal with any social anxiety (he’s too busy with his generalized anxiety thanks hahahah.) He has a few people in his classes who are willing to work with him on projects and stuff, a few internet friends-- but otherwise he considers a lot of the patients at the hospital his friends… problematic charlie ur friends r gonna die

Most comfortable around (person): His...cat? SECRETS Life goals: Charlie has always wanted to be a doctor. He wants to be able to respond to medical emergencies like the ones that he’s seen, so he’s thinking of trauma surgery but is open to other paths (he’s also pretty interested in neuro because of his own disorder; he also loves kids, so pediatrics). Just as long as he can help people.   Dreams: it would be nice to have a normal one whats that like   Greatest fears: Death, dying, disaster. And that he’ll be helpless in the face of all that and can’t save the ones that he loves. Also that he’s gonna be a lowkey embarrassment to his father for the rest of his life. Most ashamed of: His night terrors and the fact that he drove his mom away (he didn’t). Compulsions: Snacking. He snacks a lot during the night and when he watches tv. Obsessions: Watching the Golden Girls a lot, also the impending apocalypse which he had been prepping for since he was small.   Secret hobbies: ...being a prepper…. Is that a hobby…astronomy also thats more normal !! Secret skills:... prepping… Crimes committed (and was he/she caught? charged?): none thank god What he/she most wants to change about his/her current life: Find a cure for his illness/curse What he/she most wants to change about his/her physical appearance: Charlie would really like to be TALL. His dad is very tall and he got none of those genes and he feels like a pipsqueak and kind of helpless and he sort of is. So number one: TALL. Then he’d like to not have glasses and one day wants to get laser eye surgery to correct his vision, especially if he wants to be a surgeon.

DETAILS/QUIRKS Night owl or early bird?: Night Owl bc he’s terrified of sleeping. Light or heavy sleeper?: heavy sleeper. When he is sleeping, nothing can wake up but like, his dreams or his father shaking and yelling at him. He sleeps like he’s dead lmao Favorite food: Spicy food is his fave. Loves sushi, also loves chips and potato crisps and snack foods in general. When he’s too tired to cook, he’ll just eat an entire bag of crisps.   Least favorite food: Charlie isn’t a fan of a lot of red meats, like burgers and stuff. Favorite book: uhhhh mmmmm charlie isnt a big reader, he’s usually watching television. If he’s reading, he’s reading medical cases and articles.   Least favorite book:  horror story books Favorite movie: old musicals, honestly-- Hello Dolly, Pajama Game, that kind of thing. Very soothing. Probably LOVES It’s A Wonderful Life. Least favorite movie: horror movies leave him alone Favorite song: gosh idk Least favorite song: idk eIETHER probably does not metal Crunchy or smooth peanut butter?: crunchy Lefty or righty?: leftY Favorite color: green or brown Cusser?: er, a bit, normal youngin. He doesn’t curse in front of adults though he’s pretty good about that. Smoker? Drinker? Drug user?: Charlie has had a few drinks here and there a social drinker if anything. Though he does wonder if drinking a lot could squash the dreams though this is a bad path for him to wander down. He has also thought the same about #drugs but is kind of a wimp and so he hasn’t tried any...yet Biggest regret: Charlie feels like he was a big part of the wedge that drove his mother to divorce his father because they had diff ways of dealing with charlie’s condition aka-- his mother wanted to deal with it and his father didn’t. This isnt really true, just another thing the two disagreed on. Pets?: A cat that his mom left behind! She’s old and fat and grey and her name is Emily

[consulting-celiac-in-the-tardis]

Have Celiac Disease? Going to College? How to Be Gluten Free in College

New blog post! So you've done the celiac disease test, started the celiac disease diet and have begun to get used to saying, "I have celiac disease." But maybe you're less certain about how to be gluten free in college - or how you can thrive with college in celiac disease.

Today, I'm sharing my most comprehensive post yet about being a gluten free college student. As you may know, I was diagnosed with celiac disease only a few months before going to college, and I started Casey the College Celiac because I couldn't find many "gluten free in college" blog posts. 

What should you know about eating gluten free and thriving with celiac disease in college? Here are five experience-based tips on how to be gluten free in college!

* Note: I am basing this information off of my experience at Point Loma Nazarene University. Colleges may vary in their gluten free protocol and accommodations, so please research each of your chosen colleges as well as using these celiac disease tips.*

1 Research your potential colleges before attending (or even applying!) about their gluten free protocol. 

By the time celiac disease entered my life, I'd already been accepted to Point Loma Nazarene University, so my celiac disease diagnosis didn't have any impact on my college decision. If you're diagnosed before college application time, though, I'd definitely consider your dietary needs in your decision. 

Why? Well, celiac disease accommodations vary greatly between schools. For instance, my small religious university only has one cafeteria with a single, small "gluten free" station (that is open to the public). However, other colleges - like Kent State and Cornell University - have 100% gluten free college cafeterias. Talk about earning an A+ in celiac disease diet protocol! 

Maybe you've already been accepted somewhere or maybe you are still narrowing down your college choices. Either way, reaching out to each college's cafeteria and Disability Resource Center (or its equivalent) is an important step. You can research colleges' gluten free meal options ahead of time by looking at their websites. However, you can learn important specifics - like the cafeteria's understanding of cross contamination and their meal plan flexibility - by actually talking to the college cafeteria's manager or to a representative from the DRC.

In my case, I arranged a meeting with the head of the DRC and the head chef on the day I moved into Point Loma Nazarene University. This way, I got to set up a gluten free game plan before the semester actually started. Don't be afraid to ask for a face-to-face meeting with the people who'll be responsible for your gluten free diet plan. It's their job to feed you safely, and they probably can't do that without understanding exactly what you need. 

2 Documentation may be necessary for accommodation. 

One of the most controversial aspects of the celiac disease test is the endoscopy. I often get questions like, "How important is having an official celiac disease diagnosis?" I can't speak for all colleges but, in my experience, I needed official celiac disease documentation - including the blood test, biopsy and a note from my doctor - to receive any gluten free accommodations. 

What did those celiac disease accommodations look like? My college had a gluten free section in the cafeteria, but since everyone could eat from it, it was definitely not cross contamination free. So, my freshman year, I would send my gluten free meal plan request for the week to the head chef and he would make all my meals separately. I would then walk up to the cafeteria counter, tell the server that Casey was here for her gluten free meal and receive my lunch or dinner in plastic wrap. 

A salad from my freshman year of college!

My sophomore year, the cafeteria management changed hands. I met with the new manager and he promised that my special meals would still be available. After two weeks of arriving and either finding nothing but a salad - or, sometimes, no safe gluten free food for me at all - I knew I needed to cut my losses. I petitioned for a meal plan waiver since all students were required to pay for a meal plan. Thanks to my celiac disease documentation (and a few scathing emails), my petition was granted and I received a refund to spend on my own food. 

After a year of sharing a dorm kitchen with the 50-odd girls in my complex, I requested an on-campus apartment with my own kitchen. All juniors and seniors can apply for the apartments but, because I had medical proof of my need for a space to cook all of my own gluten free meals, I was bumped up on the list. 

Am I saying that every potential celiac needs to do the gluten challenge (if they've already switched to a gluten free diet) and get an official celiac disease diagnosis before college? I'd encourage it, but that decision is ultimately up to the child and their family. However, I do know that countless people claiming to have celiac disease or gluten intolerance - but without official documentation - were denied the accommodations I received.

From an article in my college's newspaper...

So, when you're calling colleges to ask about their gluten free diet plan protocol, you might also want to ask the Disability Resource Center about their required documentation. 

3 Don't be afraid to advocate for your own health - and demand the protections you need to eat safely. 

I'll admit it. When you're a college freshman, telling authority figures that they're wrong is hard. As harsh as it sounds, though, you're probably the only one who can advocate for the meal plan accommodations you really need. It's not that the cafeteria management won't care. They just may not realize that having the gluten free section open to the public makes it rife with cross contamination. Or that they're already so busy, they forget about feeding the couple "special" college students. 

It's also important to realize that, under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), college students with celiac disease are now legally protected. In particular, the ADA requires that college students with food allergies or celiac disease be able to "fully and equally enjoy the university's meal plan and food services." The first big settlement on this subject occurred in 2013 with Lesley University. Why was it important? "It puts all universities on notice that they're going to have to make these accommodations for students with celiac, gluten sensitivity and other food allergies," said Marilyn Geller, chief operating officer of the Celiac Disease Foundation.

I can't tell you how many times I called my mom crying because I'd been glutened by the cafeteria, didn't have access to safe food or was stressed about making all of my own meals. However, I also know that being forced to demand celiac disease accommodations made me a much stronger person and celiac disease advocate. 

4 Club meetings and socials will be awkward...but lunch boxes are your friend.

One of the hardest parts of living with celiac disease in college is that food is - literally - everywhere. Teachers and students bring treats to class. Every club meeting usually features a pizza party or some other exciting menu. And "hanging out" often involves grabbing a bite to eat, whether it's in the cafeteria or an off-campus restaurant. 

And, yes, sometimes needing to eat a gluten free diet will suck. I hated not being able to eat with my friends in the cafeteria after I went off the meal plan. I felt frustrated about having to spend the time and effort making my own gluten free food when my friends could just swipe into the caf and grab whatever looked good. 

My Sweet Potato Salmon Sliders are always a hit!

However, I also learned how to adapt. I became a master at coming up with gluten free packed lunch ideas - not to mention countless other easy gluten free college meals - that looked even better than the pepperoni pizza everyone else was enjoying. I got used to declining food with a short comment like, "Thank you, but I have celiac disease and need to eat gluten free." And, as the years past, people remembered my "special diet" and were no longer surprised when I showed up with a smile and a small cooler of food. 

The truth is, the more comfortable you are with your celiac disease diet, the more accepting others will be. I don't make a big deal about my gluten free dairy free diet. At the same time, though, I'm not afraid to say no - even to items that people kindly make gluten free but are likely cross-contaminated. Be confident in knowing what you can eat on a gluten free diet and how to prepare for food-filled socials. As long as you follow those two celiac disease tips, you'll enjoy college events for what they really are: the chance to make new friends and have fun with old ones. 

5 That old saying: The friends who matter won't care and ones who care don't matter. 

But what about making friends while being that "gluten free girl" (or guy)? Or dating with celiac disease? The key to success is deceptively simple: just be you. 

I never "hid" my celiac disease. When people asked why I needed to eat a gluten free diet, I told them the celiac basics. And when I was asked on my first date in college, I told him he could choose between Chipotle, Chick Fil A and PF Changs for our night out. (Chipotle won). 

This isn't to say that I haven't heard my share of hurtful comments about my chronic illnesses. My first week of freshman year, a girl from my dorm - who was a gorgeous blonde, by the way - said, "I wish I had celiac disease so I could be as skinny as you." Most comments like this one stem from ignorance rather than malice, but that doesn't make them sting any less. 

Yet, the friends I did make never failed to make me feel loved and "normal." When I moved into an on-campus apartment with three other girls, they were happy to give me my own section of kitchen cabinets and shelves in the fridge. When I went out to eat with friends, we went to places like Stacked: Food Well Built where I could eat gluten free without worry. And neither of the two guys I ended up dating ever complained about having to brush their teeth before kissing me or eat at particular restaurants on date night.

The better people get to know you, the less you'll be known as the "gluten free" person. You'll be the curve-killer on tests. The student who seems quiet but has a wicked sense of humor. The friend who's always willing to listen. Basically, you'll be you - and your celiac disease diet is only a small part of your identity.

The Bottom Line of How to be Gluten Free in College

I'd be lying if I said having celiac disease in college is easy. In my case, celiac disease complications led to me being hospitalized my first semester, and it wasn't until sophomore year when I really hit my stride. However, thriving in college with a chronic illness is 100% possible - especially if you've been gluten free before college for a longer period than I was.

Spread celiac and food allergy awareness and help other future college students by tweeting this post! Click here to tweet: "Have #celiac or #foodallergies? Everything you should know about eating #glutenfree in #college! http://bit.ly/2rLPvDh via @collegeceliackc"

Despite the challenges celiac disease threw at me at PLNU, I graduated summa cum. I fell in love and fell out of it. I made friends who I know I'll stay in touch with for years. And, in the end, I had an amazing college experience - my gluten free diet included. 

And, with these celiac disease tips in mind, I know that you can thrive gluten free in college too! Have you attended to college with celiac disease or another chronic illness? Do you have any additional tips? Tell me in the comments!

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[ixvyupdates]

My Sister’s Battle With Severe Mental Illness Taught Me Never to Stand for Pretense

My parents, Jerry and Emily, had three daughters. I’m the oldest, followed by Carla two years later, and then my youngest sister. Carla, I’m told, was difficult from birth, more moody and unhappy than typical babies.

When Carla was a preteen her difficulties escalated. She was impulsive, struggled socially, experienced periods of depression and, while very smart, struggled in school, perhaps from some undiagnosed learning disabilities. She had a wicked sense of humor but could be mean and manipulative. When she was 12 a doctor wondered if she was suicidal.

Our family’s story is not unique. According to NAMI, about 1 in 5 people in the U.S. have had some degree of mental illness and 1 in 25 have serious disorders. When a mentally ill family member is a child, the adults’ management of the disease has serious implications for siblings.

Think of a family as a mobile dangling over an infant’s crib. For the mobile to work properly, all the hanging items (faces, baby animals, stars) must be balanced. If one item is too heavy or spins out of sync, every other item is affected. Either the mobile rebalances itself through a different distribution of weight or you’re left with careening chaos.

My family spun out of control. But no one knew, not even our closest relatives, because of a tacit rule that we unquestioningly protect the facade. No shade on my parents: They loved us to the moon and back and struggled fiercely to weave the narrative of a balanced, normal family.

The fact that my mom was a school social worker made it worse for her. In those days mental illness was more stigmatized than it is now. How could my mom face the world with a problem she imagined she should be able to fix?

She couldn’t fix Carla. What was obvious was never discussed. We lived a life of pretense.

Every week at exactly the same time, we pretended my mom would take Carla shopping in order to avoid acknowledging that she was seeing a psychologist.

My youngest sister hid her stellar report cards at my parents’ prompting so Carla wouldn’t feel inferior and act out.

In the driveway of my aunt and uncle’s house Carla punched me in the stomach so hard I had the breath knocked out of me, but I knew to just get up and not cry so relatives wouldn’t catch on.

When Carla suffered an accident—she and my youngest sister were taking a summer woodshop class at a nearby school and her hair got caught in a lathe—I was fiercely instructed to go to the kitchen and have lunch with her while pretending she didn’t have a bloody bald spot.

I Survived By Not Pretending

When the family mobile spins out of control, one sibling usually survives. Although I have had my own struggles with depression and anxiety, I was our family’s survivor. My solution was to leave, which I did at age 17, and rarely come back.

Meanwhile, depending on whichever doctor Carla was seeing at the time, she was diagnosed with some combination of schizoaffective disorder, clinical depression, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, psychosis, ADHD, panic disorder, anxiety disorder. Also, she was “dual diagnosis,” which means that in addition to her mental health labels she was also a drug addict.

Eventually, Carla’s drug addiction took center stage, especially when she got hooked on heroin. I’d see her now and then, mostly at family holidays. My then-boyfriend, now-husband and I drove up to SUNY Oswego to see her once. I visited her at various rehab units and also in Creedmore, a psychiatric hospital in Queens where she was undergoing electroconvulsive therapy (which didn’t work).

Carla had a sad life that ended when she died in her apartment six years ago of a heroin overdose. No one found her for three days. Her life was sad for many reasons, primarily because endless doctors and medications were unable to ameliorate her illness, but also because our family system of pretense enabled her worst tendencies and hurt those who loved her most.

I struggle to find some redeeming aspect of her life.

I can only find it in my own.

Our three older children are what we in the special-needs community call “neuro-typical.” Jonah, our youngest, has Fragile X Syndrome, a genetic mutation that can lead to a constellation of symptoms, including global developmental delays.

Ironically, one of the reasons I wanted a fourth child was to avoid replicating the literal dynamics of my original family, but we ended up replicating a different sort of dysfunction due to Jonah’s extraordinary demands of time and resources.

We’ve gotten lots of things wrong. But at least there’s no pretense. We don’t try to be “normal.”

We don’t make my other kids pretend that Jonah, whom we all love to the moon and back, hasn’t cheated them out of opportunities, hasn’t made our world smaller, hasn’t perpetually altered our balance, hasn’t affected them all in negative—and, they tell me, also positive—ways.

Then again, it’s easier for us than for my parents because Jonah’s problems are unambiguously traced to that damned mutation I passed on to him.

Mental illness, however, is still stigmatized, still mysterious, still subtextually associated with shame. And when the sick person is smart, it’s harder to separate intentional behavior from symptoms.

Did Carla beat me up because she couldn’t control her tendency towards oppositional defiance or because she knew there would be no repercussions? Did she emotionally manipulate my sister (to the point of cruelty) as an expression of borderline personality disorder or because she was just flat-out mean?

Carla, then as now, remains a mystery to me. All I can do is learn from my parents’ mistakes and not pretend that my husband and I are raising a typical family. We try really hard not to lie about hard truths. We try really hard not to cloak our differences with a false patina of normalcy. And our kids are OK. Better than OK.

We eschew pretense. We seek it out and stomp on it.

Until We Confront Our Collective Pretenses About Education, Kids Will Keep Getting Hurt

I think that allergy to pretense explains why I react so strongly to educationally tinged charades, particularly in my home state of New Jersey—which is a reeling mobile unto itself, unbalanced by the destabilizing winds of adult-centric gamesmanship.

I watch politicians and lobbyists cloak themselves in artifice by scorning the state’s standardized test scores because they reveal unsettling truths about student learning. I watch higher-income parents, mostly White, demand a “moratorium” on public charter schools serving mostly low-income families of color, while they simultaneously buy their own way into high-performing suburban districts without any awareness that it’s also “school choice.” I watch the unending idolatry of local control, which allows schools to circumvent equity and accountability.

Why do I break out in hives? Because I know that children are victimized when adults, keen to evade troubling truths, allow the mobile to spin in vertiginous gyrations.

Our education system will lurch until we muster the collective will to confront our self-perpetuating pretenses. Sure, it’s hard, humbling work. But, trust me, it’s better than the alternative.

An original version of this appeared on NJ Left Behind as “My Sister Carla: A Personal Story About Mental Illness.”

Photo by GENNARO LEONARDI, Twenty20-licensed.

My Sister’s Battle With Severe Mental Illness Taught Me Never to Stand for Pretense syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com

[ixvyupdates]

My Sister’s Battle With Severe Mental Illness Taught Me Never to Stand for Pretense

My parents, Jerry and Emily, had three daughters. I’m the oldest, followed by Carla two years later, and then my youngest sister. Carla, I’m told, was difficult from birth, more moody and unhappy than typical babies.

When Carla was a preteen her difficulties escalated. She was impulsive, struggled socially, experienced periods of depression and, while very smart, struggled in school, perhaps from some undiagnosed learning disabilities. She had a wicked sense of humor but could be mean and manipulative. When she was 12 a doctor wondered if she was suicidal.

Our family’s story is not unique. According to NAMI, about 1 in 5 people in the U.S. have had some degree of mental illness and 1 in 25 have serious disorders. When a mentally ill family member is a child, the adults’ management of the disease has serious implications for siblings.

Think of a family as a mobile dangling over an infant’s crib. For the mobile to work properly, all the hanging items (faces, baby animals, stars) must be balanced. If one item is too heavy or spins out of sync, every other item is affected. Either the mobile rebalances itself through a different distribution of weight or you’re left with careening chaos.

My family spun out of control. But no one knew, not even our closest relatives, because of a tacit rule that we unquestioningly protect the facade. No shade on my parents: They loved us to the moon and back and struggled fiercely to weave the narrative of a balanced, normal family.

The fact that my mom was a school social worker made it worse for her. In those days mental illness was more stigmatized than it is now. How could my mom face the world with a problem she imagined she should be able to fix?

She couldn’t fix Carla. What was obvious was never discussed. We lived a life of pretense.

Every week at exactly the same time, we pretended my mom would take Carla shopping in order to avoid acknowledging that she was seeing a psychologist.

My youngest sister hid her stellar report cards at my parents’ prompting so Carla wouldn’t feel inferior and act out.

In the driveway of my aunt and uncle’s house Carla punched me in the stomach so hard I had the breath knocked out of me, but I knew to just get up and not cry so relatives wouldn’t catch on.

When Carla suffered an accident—she and my youngest sister were taking a summer woodshop class at a nearby school and her hair got caught in a lathe—I was fiercely instructed to go to the kitchen and have lunch with her while pretending she didn’t have a bloody bald spot.

I Survived By Not Pretending

When the family mobile spins out of control, one sibling usually survives. Although I have had my own struggles with depression and anxiety, I was our family’s survivor. My solution was to leave, which I did at age 17, and rarely come back.

Meanwhile, depending on whichever doctor Carla was seeing at the time, she was diagnosed with some combination of schizoaffective disorder, clinical depression, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, psychosis, ADHD, panic disorder, anxiety disorder. Also, she was “dual diagnosis,” which means that in addition to her mental health labels she was also a drug addict.

Eventually, Carla’s drug addiction took center stage, especially when she got hooked on heroin. I’d see her now and then, mostly at family holidays. My then-boyfriend, now-husband and I drove up to SUNY Oswego to see her once. I visited her at various rehab units and also in Creedmore, a psychiatric hospital in Queens where she was undergoing electroconvulsive therapy (which didn’t work).

Carla had a sad life that ended when she died in her apartment six years ago of a heroin overdose. No one found her for three days. Her life was sad for many reasons, primarily because endless doctors and medications were unable to ameliorate her illness, but also because our family system of pretense enabled her worst tendencies and hurt those who loved her most.

I struggle to find some redeeming aspect of her life.

I can only find it in my own.

Our three older children are what we in the special-needs community call “neuro-typical.” Jonah, our youngest, has Fragile X Syndrome, a genetic mutation that can lead to a constellation of symptoms, including global developmental delays.

Ironically, one of the reasons I wanted a fourth child was to avoid replicating the literal dynamics of my original family, but we ended up replicating a different sort of dysfunction due to Jonah’s extraordinary demands of time and resources.

We’ve gotten lots of things wrong. But at least there’s no pretense. We don’t try to be “normal.”

We don’t make my other kids pretend that Jonah, whom we all love to the moon and back, hasn’t cheated them out of opportunities, hasn’t made our world smaller, hasn’t perpetually altered our balance, hasn’t affected them all in negative—and, they tell me, also positive—ways.

Then again, it’s easier for us than for my parents because Jonah’s problems are unambiguously traced to that damned mutation I passed on to him.

Mental illness, however, is still stigmatized, still mysterious, still subtextually associated with shame. And when the sick person is smart, it’s harder to separate intentional behavior from symptoms.

Did Carla beat me up because she couldn’t control her tendency towards oppositional defiance or because she knew there would be no repercussions? Did she emotionally manipulate my sister (to the point of cruelty) as an expression of borderline personality disorder or because she was just flat-out mean?

Carla, then as now, remains a mystery to me. All I can do is learn from my parents’ mistakes and not pretend that my husband and I are raising a typical family. We try really hard not to lie about hard truths. We try really hard not to cloak our differences with a false patina of normalcy. And our kids are OK. Better than OK.

We eschew pretense. We seek it out and stomp on it.

Until We Confront Our Collective Pretenses About Education, Kids Will Keep Getting Hurt

I think that allergy to pretense explains why I react so strongly to educationally tinged charades, particularly in my home state of New Jersey—which is a reeling mobile unto itself, unbalanced by the destabilizing winds of adult-centric gamesmanship.

I watch politicians and lobbyists cloak themselves in artifice by scorning the state’s standardized test scores because they reveal unsettling truths about student learning. I watch higher-income parents, mostly White, demand a “moratorium” on public charter schools serving mostly low-income families of color, while they simultaneously buy their own way into high-performing suburban districts without any awareness that it’s also “school choice.” I watch the unending idolatry of local control, which allows schools to circumvent equity and accountability.

Why do I break out in hives? Because I know that children are victimized when adults, keen to evade troubling truths, allow the mobile to spin in vertiginous gyrations.

Our education system will lurch until we muster the collective will to confront our self-perpetuating pretenses. Sure, it’s hard, humbling work. But, trust me, it’s better than the alternative.

An original version of this appeared on NJ Left Behind as “My Sister Carla: A Personal Story About Mental Illness.”

Photo by GENNARO LEONARDI, Twenty20-licensed.

My Sister’s Battle With Severe Mental Illness Taught Me Never to Stand for Pretense syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com

[ixvyupdates]

My Sister’s Battle With Severe Mental Illness Taught Me Never to Stand for Pretense

My parents, Jerry and Emily, had three daughters. I’m the oldest, followed by Carla two years later, and then my youngest sister. Carla, I’m told, was difficult from birth, more moody and unhappy than typical babies.

When Carla was a preteen her difficulties escalated. She was impulsive, struggled socially, experienced periods of depression and, while very smart, struggled in school, perhaps from some undiagnosed learning disabilities. She had a wicked sense of humor but could be mean and manipulative. When she was 12 a doctor wondered if she was suicidal.

Our family’s story is not unique. According to NAMI, about 1 in 5 people in the U.S. have had some degree of mental illness and 1 in 25 have serious disorders. When a mentally ill family member is a child, the adults’ management of the disease has serious implications for siblings.

Think of a family as a mobile dangling over an infant’s crib. For the mobile to work properly, all the hanging items (faces, baby animals, stars) must be balanced. If one item is too heavy or spins out of sync, every other item is affected. Either the mobile rebalances itself through a different distribution of weight or you’re left with careening chaos.

My family spun out of control. But no one knew, not even our closest relatives, because of a tacit rule that we unquestioningly protect the facade. No shade on my parents: They loved us to the moon and back and struggled fiercely to weave the narrative of a balanced, normal family.

The fact that my mom was a school social worker made it worse for her. In those days mental illness was more stigmatized than it is now. How could my mom face the world with a problem she imagined she should be able to fix?

She couldn’t fix Carla. What was obvious was never discussed. We lived a life of pretense.

Every week at exactly the same time, we pretended my mom would take Carla shopping in order to avoid acknowledging that she was seeing a psychologist.

My youngest sister hid her stellar report cards at my parents’ prompting so Carla wouldn’t feel inferior and act out.

In the driveway of my aunt and uncle’s house Carla punched me in the stomach so hard I had the breath knocked out of me, but I knew to just get up and not cry so relatives wouldn’t catch on.

When Carla suffered an accident—she and my youngest sister were taking a summer woodshop class at a nearby school and her hair got caught in a lathe—I was fiercely instructed to go to the kitchen and have lunch with her while pretending she didn’t have a bloody bald spot.

I Survived By Not Pretending

When the family mobile spins out of control, one sibling usually survives. Although I have had my own struggles with depression and anxiety, I was our family’s survivor. My solution was to leave, which I did at age 17, and rarely come back.

Meanwhile, depending on whichever doctor Carla was seeing at the time, she was diagnosed with some combination of schizoaffective disorder, clinical depression, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, psychosis, ADHD, panic disorder, anxiety disorder. Also, she was “dual diagnosis,” which means that in addition to her mental health labels she was also a drug addict.

Eventually, Carla’s drug addiction took center stage, especially when she got hooked on heroin. I’d see her now and then, mostly at family holidays. My then-boyfriend, now-husband and I drove up to SUNY Oswego to see her once. I visited her at various rehab units and also in Creedmore, a psychiatric hospital in Queens where she was undergoing electroconvulsive therapy (which didn’t work).

Carla had a sad life that ended when she died in her apartment six years ago of a heroin overdose. No one found her for three days. Her life was sad for many reasons, primarily because endless doctors and medications were unable to ameliorate her illness, but also because our family system of pretense enabled her worst tendencies and hurt those who loved her most.

I struggle to find some redeeming aspect of her life.

I can only find it in my own.

Our three older children are what we in the special-needs community call “neuro-typical.” Jonah, our youngest, has Fragile X Syndrome, a genetic mutation that can lead to a constellation of symptoms, including global developmental delays.

Ironically, one of the reasons I wanted a fourth child was to avoid replicating the literal dynamics of my original family, but we ended up replicating a different sort of dysfunction due to Jonah’s extraordinary demands of time and resources.

We’ve gotten lots of things wrong. But at least there’s no pretense. We don’t try to be “normal.”

We don’t make my other kids pretend that Jonah, whom we all love to the moon and back, hasn’t cheated them out of opportunities, hasn’t made our world smaller, hasn’t perpetually altered our balance, hasn’t affected them all in negative—and, they tell me, also positive—ways.

Then again, it’s easier for us than for my parents because Jonah’s problems are unambiguously traced to that damned mutation I passed on to him.

Mental illness, however, is still stigmatized, still mysterious, still subtextually associated with shame. And when the sick person is smart, it’s harder to separate intentional behavior from symptoms.

Did Carla beat me up because she couldn’t control her tendency towards oppositional defiance or because she knew there would be no repercussions? Did she emotionally manipulate my sister (to the point of cruelty) as an expression of borderline personality disorder or because she was just flat-out mean?

Carla, then as now, remains a mystery to me. All I can do is learn from my parents’ mistakes and not pretend that my husband and I are raising a typical family. We try really hard not to lie about hard truths. We try really hard not to cloak our differences with a false patina of normalcy. And our kids are OK. Better than OK.

We eschew pretense. We seek it out and stomp on it.

Until We Confront Our Collective Pretenses About Education, Kids Will Keep Getting Hurt

I think that allergy to pretense explains why I react so strongly to educationally tinged charades, particularly in my home state of New Jersey—which is a reeling mobile unto itself, unbalanced by the destabilizing winds of adult-centric gamesmanship.

I watch politicians and lobbyists cloak themselves in artifice by scorning the state’s standardized test scores because they reveal unsettling truths about student learning. I watch higher-income parents, mostly White, demand a “moratorium” on public charter schools serving mostly low-income families of color, while they simultaneously buy their own way into high-performing suburban districts without any awareness that it’s also “school choice.” I watch the unending idolatry of local control, which allows schools to circumvent equity and accountability.

Why do I break out in hives? Because I know that children are victimized when adults, keen to evade troubling truths, allow the mobile to spin in vertiginous gyrations.

Our education system will lurch until we muster the collective will to confront our self-perpetuating pretenses. Sure, it’s hard, humbling work. But, trust me, it’s better than the alternative.

An original version of this appeared on NJ Left Behind as “My Sister Carla: A Personal Story About Mental Illness.”

Photo by GENNARO LEONARDI, Twenty20-licensed.

My Sister’s Battle With Severe Mental Illness Taught Me Never to Stand for Pretense syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com