#treat treatment-resistant depression

[wilshireinstitute]

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[mutalune]

really wish there was a tag that separated “I’m having Big Angry and/or Angsty Opinions about Star Wars” from “I’m goofing off with Star Wars I’m playing in the sandbox none of this is real so yes I will make my blorbo and this random glub shitto go on an adventure that makes no logical sense” posts because there’s too much of the former and not enough of the latter for my current mental state

[altairrr]

Hey hello hi, it's been a few years I think.

We found out the reason why the last couple years have been very hard! What with the constant vertigo, seizure like symptoms, memory issues, untreatable psychosis, body parts locking up or just straight up moving incorrectly n not the way i instructed, and what I was hoping was the worst DID relapse. It's lucky I have known how to mask these symtpoms for the most part, otherwise things would be worse off. Unfortunately that did mean that no one listened/remembered/took it seriously when I'd ask for help or explain some symptoms. I felt like a woman being diagnosed with hysteria and gaslit to hell and back, so I'm glad to finally have Some kind of step forward with this that isn't just "You're a monster and should just work and do as told and Do More because youre built different" rehashed in a polite way.

Oh ALSO I found out I had had endometriosis just like I thought, and it had spread in a way that it was fusing organs together n tearing them apart and that's why I was in a lot of pain there all the time. Also had several hemorrhages that I had no choice but to tough out through. I finally got spayed, so that helped A Lot. Still pains here and there, but it's much much better in that regard.

Anyway, brain shit.

They thought it was a brain tumor in my frontal lobe- there seems to be a Thing There and brain matter has atrophied a bit towards it. Contrast didn't highlight it, though, so now we're looking at other options

Got one more test to do, and then I'll be able to get a referral for a neuroscientist of some kind. Im real lucky to be in California And at the poverty line because so far the state has been covering all the costs. But it means any second opinion outside of Kaiser is going to have to be completely out of pocket.

[butiknowiloatheyou]

no but seriously

i used to be a real go getter? i used to think it’d all get better?????

[autumnbell32]

Maybe I did want all that.

Maybe I did want to break free from the apathy and impatience and cruelty of my upbringing and rely on my own brain to wire itself. Maybe I did want to believe that I was valuable despite being bigger or smaller, despite my intermittent clumsiness or absentmindedness or neurosis.

Maybe I did want a kid. Maybe I wanted to be in a relationship where I wasn't kept sitting on the floor, hugging my knees, ashamed of my thoughts and feelings. Maybe I wanted to feel less like a problem and more like an asset. Maybe I wanted to feel like I wasn't alone, in my own little bubble of denial and false happiness and hope, while I walked beside someone who felt nothing. Maybe I wanted to look at someone and smile while they talked, and not have that be a rare occurrence.

Maybe, at this point in my life, I did want direction. Maybe, at this point in my life, I wanted way less introspection and way more living and collecting- plants, art, writings, books, jogs, evenings, baking, volunteering, learning, piano jazz, bird songs. Maybe I wanted to be healed way before I started experiencing the illness of family members and losing parents, before watching my own self age and ail.

What the fuck is all this for? I'm fucking lost.

[tanadrin]

I would love to hear the rant about social media doomerism and conspiracy

I’m on my phone right now but the summary version is something like:

Humans are bad at integrating information into their worldview accurately bc of various cognitive biases

Social media incentivizes us seeking out content that excites fear or anger or irritation

Social media thus causes us to form negative impressions of the world bc it mediates so much information consumption and discourse these days

This general negative affective impression is subject to high confirmation bias and ppl in general are really bad at divorcing an affective impression of a thing from their dispassionate reasoning abt a thing

(Bc one of the functions of an affective impression is to “cache” our conclusions about a topic to save time and effort later)

(In general if you are a cynic and pessimist you can fall prey to these biases w/o social media but I think social media makes more ppl susceptible to them)

People don’t want to be dupes so they seek refuge in cynicism. We treat cynicism as wise or worldly when in fact cynicism makes you a dupe and an easy mark for grifters. Cynicism and low trust foster conspiracism, paranoia, and antisocial politics

(This is why so many congenitally contrarian folks seem to flit effortlessly between the far left and far right; it’s not horseshoe theory, they’ve just cooked their brains on this stuff)

This is a world where populist anti-social politicians like Trump and the AfD thrive, bc they will lie about how everything is terrible and people will nod along, bc it explains why their social media is full of awful stories of, like, immigrants eating pets and shit

But it doesn’t just have to be insane lies only a moron could believe. It can be any impression about a fact in the world that it is difficult to personally check and which is vulnerable to being swayed by anecdote

This is how we get a word where people think crime rates are higher than they’ve ever been when in fact crime is falling

Or child predators lurk around every corner when in fact children are safer than ever

Or the American economy is in a recession when in fact it’s doing historically well by just about every available metric (now with full employment AND low inflation!)

Because in a big world even where things are in general good and getting better you can always produce infinite individual examples of shitty things and pipe those in a steady stream into people’s eyeballs, and then point to that and leverage people’s low trust attitudes and their cynicism which tells them they are smarter than the experts and go “statistics is just a fancy way to lie! The world is secretly terrible! Every bad thing is even worse than you thought and every good thing is a lie!”

(Nevermind the whole phenomenon where anything that is complicated or that someone does not themselves understand gets treated like it’s actually secret and a conspiracy.)

And here I know I have to include some disclaimer about how this is not to discount individual cases of suffering or struggle, which are real, or that there are indeed some really awful things happening in the world right now, which there are, but you know what?

I’m tired of doing that. People with reading comprehension operating in good faith ought to be able to deduce that general statements do not obviate particular exceptions, and people who cling to their doomerism as a kind of emotional life raft do not generally argue with me in good faith.

Sometimes doomerism is a load-bearing pillar of their politics, which I think is dumb—I think you can be a leftist or a progressive without being a doomer! In fact I think doomerism is antithetical to useful politics!

Sometimes they are just depressed and treatment-resistant. Sometimes they are just angry misanthropes who want to feel justified in their misanthropy. Some doomers are themselves in bad circumstances and feeling hopeless about that—to them I am enormously sympathetic. Though a lot of doomers will admit they personally are doing OK—this does not seem to be most doomers.

But I think in general cynicism and doomerism and a worldview dominated by a general nebulous air of Everything Is Awful and by abstract nouns with threatening auras is not conducive to wisdom or understanding or useful politics or leading a happy and fulfilling life.

[skyahri]

Retire |Kakashi X Reader| HC

Summary: You need some convincing to leave ANBU.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and depression. Mentions of suicide. A bit angsty and self-destructive, but fluffy overall.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Even though he'd retired a few years back, you were still an active ANBU captain.

The job was grueling, and he was well aware that the longer you stayed, the worse the missions became.

That isn't just because of the overall baggage people acquire, but because seasoned black ops were often sent on the more... unethical missions.

You'd been acting off recently. He had let it go at first, knowing how taxing the line of work could be, but something in his mind was bugging him to investigate.

He assumed everything had started to actually get to you, so he decided to check in on you between missions with team 7.

He knocked on your door. It took a minute, but you answered.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.

Your appearance was appalling.

You'd lost a lot of weight, you had bags under your eyes, and you reeked of alcohol.

"Just checking in on you. It's been a while."

"Yeah, Tsunade has me on back to back missions. This is my first break in months."

He had assumed his intensive schedule with his team was the thing keeping you two apart, but apparently not.

"How about you get cleaned up while I go get us something to eat? My treat."

"I'm pretty tired, Kashi. I think I'd like to continue rotting for the time being. Thanks for the offer, though."

You gently shut the door in his face.

A sour look plastered itself on his face.

Unfortunately, your use of rotting didn't seem too far off, so he decided to talk to a third party about it.

His first stop was to see Tenzo. Maybe he knew what was up since you two worked so closely.

"I've noticed as well. I tried to ask, but they told me it wasn't appropriate for subordinates to question their captain."

Add that to the list of odd behavior.

You loved Tenzo like family, just like Kakashi did, so the sudden change was worrisome.

He went to ask Asuma as well, knowing he had been in the village more often than he had recently.

Asuma pulled him inside his home and away from prying eyes. Last thing he wanted was the wrong person hearing such a sensitive information.

"We already talked to Tsunade about it months ago when we noticed a decline in her health. Word got back to them, they said something about breach of trust, and they haven't spoken to any of us since."

Kakashi just nodded.

He remembered a time where he also reacted poorly when he'd been questioned in a similar manner.

The only difference is lord Third actually listened instead of allowing him to dig himself deeper into an early grave.

He dwelled on it for a few days.

He cared about you deeply. It was different than any of his other friendships- more personal and open.

The last thing he wanted was to go behind your back and end up with the same treatment the rest of the group was getting.

So he put on his big boy pants and showed up at your door again with vengeance.

He had been practicing what he'd say the whole way over. He needed to be prepared for anything you threw at him so he didn't falter.

But when you opened the door, his fire simmered out.

You just looked so tired.

His words got stuck in his throat.

So he did the only thing he could think of - he just walked forward, straight into you, and wrapped you up in a hug.

You resisted at first, but the second his warmth hit your bones, you relaxed.

It only lasted for a moment before the feelings started to set in, causing your body to shake with sobs.

You fell to the ground, dragging him with you, but his hold didn't loosen one bit.

"It's okay. I'm here for you."

That only made things worse. Something about his comfort was making all the feelings you've worked so hard to repress bubble up to the surface.

After you'd visibly calmed down, he'd picked you up and carried you to the couch. He positioned you so you'd be touching as much as possible without him being too forward.

"I hate ANBU."

Straight to the point. He wasn't sure if that was good or not.

"Why don't you retire? It's been almost fifteen years. That's way longer than most make it."

You hesitated. You had a reason, but the thought of saying it out loud made it sound so silly.

One look at Kakashi’s face told you he wasn't messing around.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. It made it easier to answer without him looking at you.

"If it's not me going out there, its someone else. I'm already too far gone, may as well save someone else from this fate."

Oh.

Kakashi had fully been expecting some sort of 'I can handle it' response, but this one was so... awful. Just absolutely heart-wrenching.

He collected his thoughts, trying to find a way to reason with you.

"There are people in ANBU who can handle that kind of mental load. You were that person many years ago,"

You just looked at him with that sad, defeated face, and it broke his heart all over again.

"But that's not the case anymore. It's time to pass on the torch."

You shook your head, ready to get up and kick him out. He just pulled you back down and held your hands in his.

"I was so angry when I was forced to retire. I felt like I could do more, like it wasn't that bad, and everyone was underestimating me. Do you know what happens when shinobi like us aren't told to quit?"

You shook your head.

"They end up like my father."

You stayed silent after that. How could you argue when he had just pulled the dead dad card?

So you promised to think about it.

He knew that would be as good as it would get, so he dropped it and opted to switch to a lighter subject.

After an hour or so of talking, you fell asleep. He carried you to your bed and tucked you in. He thought about staying over, but decided against it.

He didn't see you the next day. He'd knocked on your door, but no one answered, and he couldn't sense you inside.

He hoped you were just busy and not on another mission.

He did see you the next day, however.

He was heading to the Hokage's tower to chat with Tsunade about team 7's next mission when he bumped into you.

You smiled at him.

It felt like he was looking at a different person. You were almost glowing. Your eyes seemed a bit brighter, face looked a little fuller, and overall vibe was less damming.

"I retired this morning."

He damn near hugged you in front of the whole village.

"That's great to hear."

[icrypop]

Misunderstood By Society (3)

Asylum Patient! König x GN! Doctor! Reader

Warnings⚠️: Posted here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The quiet hum of my apartment felt almost unnatural after the weight of the asylum. The dim glow of my desk lamp cast long shadows as I flipped through König’s file, the pages slightly worn from being handled so many times.

I had read through his basics already—his history of violence, his refusal to remove his hood, his resistance to treatment—but it wasn’t until I dug deeper into his medication list that my brows furrowed.

Several of his prescriptions made sense—antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, anti-anxiety medications—but a few names stood out.

{High doses of sedatives. Heavy tranquilizers.}

I muttered to myself, running a finger down the list. “Were they trying to sedate him or tranquilize him?”

I had seen this before. In facilities like Winchester, when a patient became too “difficult,” the solution was often chemical restraint rather than actual treatment. But König wasn’t an animal to be put down when he got too aggressive—he was a man. A man with a fractured mind, one that had been pushed to the point of breaking.

Sighing, I leaned back in my chair and scrubbed a hand down my face. I’d figure that out later. For now, I needed to prepare.

I got up, threw a microwave dinner into the machine, and let it spin while I grabbed my notebook. König’s file had listed his three biggest diagnoses—**PTSD, Severe Anxiety, and Bipolar Disorder.** None of them were uncommon for someone with a history like his, but combined with past military experience and hallucinations? It was a volatile mix.

I started writing.

PTSD:

- Triggers can vary (sounds, environments, smells).

- Hypervigilance—may react aggressively if startled.

- May experience flashbacks—important to ground them in the present.

- Do not corner or restrain without necessity—could escalate panic.

Severe Anxiety:

- Constant state of heightened awareness.

- Likely has difficulty trusting others—especially in a place like this.

- Resistance to medication may stem from paranoia.

- Routines might help stabilize his mood.

Bipolar Disorder:

- Mood swings—manic episodes vs. depressive episodes.

- Manic: Impulsive behavior, possible aggression.

- Depressive: Withdrawal, possible suicidal ideation.

- Medication regulation is critical.

I tapped the pen against my notepad, thinking. König wasn’t just violent—he was reactive. His entire life, he had been treated as a monster, as something to be subdued rather than understood. It wasn’t surprising that he lashed out.

The mircowave beeped, but I barely noticed it, my mind too focused on the task ahead. If I was going to handle this right, I needed to know what not to do.

What NOT to do around König:

- Sudden movements or loud noises—could trigger defensive aggression.

- Forced eye contact—may make him feel challenged or threatened.

- Overuse of restraints—will increase distrust and worsen anxiety.

- Talking down to him—he’s not *stupid*, and treating him like a child will only piss him off.

- Forcing medication—there has to be a reason he refuses it. Find out why.

I exhaled, closing the notebook.

Tomorrow was going to be my first session with König. I wasn’t walking into this blind.

I was going to be prepared.

————————————————————————

The asylum always felt colder in the mornings. Maybe it was just the old building settling, or maybe it was something else—something deeper. Either way, I felt it in my bones as I made my way to the lockers, stopping when I saw Miss. Nessi leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"Morning," she greeted, offering me a small but knowing smile.

"Morning," I replied, twisting open my locker and grabbing my things. "Anything I should know before I see him?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Jacobs is already in there."

I paused, my fingers gripping the edge of my clipboard a little tighter. "Of course he is."

"Be careful," Nessi murmured, lowering her voice. "You ever notice how some of the staff here act like they enjoy this place a little too much?" I glanced at her, noting the concern in her eyes. She was right. There were people here who weren’t just desensitized to the work—they thrived in it. Jacobs was one of them.

I gave her a nod, silently assuring her I’d be fine before heading to König’s restricted wing.

The moment I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong.

König was restrained, held down by two guards, his entire body tensed like a coiled spring. His breathing was sharp and uneven, chest rising and falling with barely contained rage. Jacobs stood in front of him, holding a small paper cup filled with pills.

"You gonna take 'em, or are we gonna have to *help* you again?" Jacobs taunted, his voice laced with amusement. "Come on, big guy. Open up."

König didn’t move. His hood obscured most of his face, but even from here, I could feel the intensity of his glare.

I flipped through my notebook, skimming my own notes. "Intimidation tactics don’t work," I said aloud, not bothering to hide my disapproval. "Neither does *antagonizing* the patient, but I guess that’s too much to ask."

Jacobs turned, his cocky smirk faltering slightly. "Oh, look, the new doc finally showed up." I didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, I met his gaze with a calm but firm stare. "Leave."

Jacobs scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"You’re excused," I replied evenly. "I’ll be handling his medication today." Jacobs’ jaw tightened. "You’re new. You don’t know how things work around here." I smiled, sharp and polite. "I know enough to recognize unprofessional behavior when I see it. Now, leave."

For a moment, I thought he’d argue, but something in my expression must have told him I wasn’t budging. He rolled his eyes and stepped back, shoving the cup into my hands before walking off with an irritated huff. I turned to the guards. "Out."

One of them hesitated. "Doctor, we’re required to—"

"—Stay out." My voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "You’re not helping."

They exchanged looks but, eventually, backed away. The heavy doors clicked shut behind them, leaving just me and König in the room.

I finally exhaled, looking up at him. His breathing was still uneven, but now that Jacobs and the guards were gone, it wasn’t as ragged. His shoulders remained tense, but his fists had loosened slightly.

I took a slow, deliberate step forward. "They always treat you like that?"

Silence.

I held up the cup of pills. "I read your file. I know you don’t like taking these. I’m not going to force you. But if we’re going to work together, I need to understand *why* you refuse them." König didn’t speak, but he was listening. That was a start.

I placed the cup on the small table beside us, keeping my movements slow and non-threatening. "I’ll leave these here. Your choice. No threats. No force." I took a step back, giving him space.

"Can I take these off?" I gestured to the restraints. His fingers curled slightly, muscles twitching, but he gave a small nod. Carefully, I reached for the straps, undoing them one by one.

As the last restraint fell away, König didn’t move. He just *watched* me. For the first time since I walked in, I met his gaze, though his face remained shadowed beneath his hood.

"I’m Dr. Y/N," I said softly. "And I'll be taking care of you."

[angelnumber27]

you are literally faking all of your “problems” for attention. I have bpd, past severe subst abuse problems, suicidal treatment resistant depression, abuse history and I’m not on here all ditzy posting kittens and tits, in fact my shit on here is disgusting and scary. No one with severe problems has a lil flower blog, just lying and begging 4 money making us REAL troubled ppl look fake as u are

So because I post images of kittens and tits I don’t have the mental illnesses I’ve been diagnosed with? Where’s the logic like this is the most absurd stupid thing I’ve heard in a while and it’s actually incredibly harmful to think like this.

I think maybe you should not be on this website or the internet at all if this is how you’re going to act

I hope you feel better bc this is not how you treat people 🖤 and this entire take in general is very very dumb

Here’s screenshots of my ongoing health conditions :) I cropped out a couple bc I felt like it lol

I’m sorry that I don’t solely post depressing negative shit. I don’t see a reason to do that. My goal here is to lift people up not tear them down. This makes absolutely no sense whatsoever

You need help babe. Badly

[puppyboygf]

shockingly, resuming treatment specifially for treatment-resistant depression has helped treat my treatment-resistant depression

[hard--headed--woman]

Annemarie Schwarzenbach

(i am so glad i learned about her!)

Born in 1908 and died in 1942, she is a Swiss writer, poet, explorer, philosopher,  photographer, journalist and traveler (yeah that's impressive!).

Her family was a family of Swiss industrialists from the upper bourgeoisie and close to the far-right ; openly lesbian, she lives with difficulty with them and can't wait to leave.

From 1927, she studied history and literature in Zurich and Paris and then began writing articles for the Swiss press.

In 1930, she became friends with Klaus Mann (writer) and Erika Mann (writer, actress, singer) children of Thomas Mann (writer) and had a long affair with the latter. She supported them in their fight against Nazism. The three friends joined the anti-fascist magazine Die Sammlung.

In 1931, she obtained a doctorate. At the age of 23, she published her first novel, Les Amis de Bernhard. She became friends with Claude Bourdet, Catherine Pozzi's (poet and writer) son and a future member of the French Resistance.

In 1933, Annemarie Schwarzenbach made her first trip as a journalist, travelling to Spain with the photographer Marianne Breslauer.

That same year, she travelled to Persia and decided to marry, in Tehran, Achille Clarac, the secretary of the French legation, who was openly homosexual. She did this so that she was no longer dependent on her parents. Thanks to her marriage, she was able to obtain a diplomatic passport, which facilitated her travels. Obviously, it wasn't a love marriage; the two of them did it to help each other and to be able to live free.

She later returned to Switzerland, then left for the Soviet Union and the United States. In 1938, she underwent several detox treatments for her morphine addiction. She fell in love with one of the women in charge of her treatment. During these stays at the clinic, she wrote "La Vallée Heureuse","Das glückliche Tal" (The Happy Valley).

In 1939-1940, when Europe was once again embroiled in war, she travelled by Ford from Geneva to Kabul, via Iran, with the Swiss traveller, writer and photographer Ella Maillart, a journey marked by her addiction problems. The two women's epic journey is recounted by Ella Maillart in her book "La Voie cruelle". It was during this journey that Annemarie Schwarzenbach wrote "Un hiver au Proche-Orient". She also wrote various reports for Swiss newspapers.

On her return, she went back to the United States, where her addiction to morphine, her depressive tendencies and her suicide attempts forced her to undergo several psychiatric treatments. She then became interested in the trade union movement. In New York, she befriended Carson McCullers, who fell madly in love with her and dedicated "Reflections in a Golden Eye" to her.

During a stay in the Belgian Congo, Annemarie Schwarzenbach joined the Free French forces in Brazzaville; she was mistaken for a Nazi spy. Disturbed by this comparison, she began writing a series of poems, including Les Rives du Congo-Tétouan. In 1942, having regained her serenity, she decided to return to Switzerland.

On 7 September 1942, a fall from her bicycle seriously injured her head. She was treated in a psychiatric hospital in Prangins, with electric shocks. Her mother then had her taken back to the Engadine, where she died on 15 November, aged 34.

After her death, her mother chose to destroy a large part of her correspondence. However, the Annemarie Schwarzenbach fonds is preserved at the Swiss Literary Archives in Bern and was made freely accessible on Wikimedia Commons in 2017. She was nicknamed the "inconsolable angel" by the French writer Roger Martin du Gard.

She has created a number of novels, poems, photos and reports during her many travels, and I invite you to take a look at her work!!! She was such an interesting person!!!

I love women with a thirst for life and the world like that; she wanted to discover everything, and created such interesting things!!!

Do check her books, her poems and her photos!

[byjove]

Modern psychiatric medicine is still so carceral at its core. I have had so many negative and traumatizing experiences with professionals in that field that I have all but given up on my mental health. I have had severe treatment resistant depression since the age of 13, tried a number of different medications and therapies and have just given up and resigned myself to taking 100 mg of Zoloft every day for the rest of my life because at the bare minimum it keeps me from wanting to kill myself. I am terrified of being honest with psychiatric professionals. I am terrified of experiencing the trauma I experienced in the psych ward. I am terrified of getting help for my severe anxiety, agoraphobia and executive functioning problem. My quality of life sucks but in the 10 years I was treated, they largely made my life harder instead of better. I had a psychiatrist who was genuinely abusive, I am sure there are ones out there with a genuine desire to help but the trauma I experienced will forever taint my trust in psychiatric medicine.

[afusionoffandoms]

The symbol most associated with fibromyalgia is the butterfly, as well as the purple ribbon, since a butterfly despite being almost weightless can cause pain if it landed on a person with fibromyalgia.

Fibromyalgia (fibro) is a chronic and highly stigmatised condition that presents as pain throughout the body - often inconsistent both in strength and location as well as resistant to pain medication - along with a slew of other symptoms - mainly intense fatigue and cognitive dysfunction, in addition to headaches, abdominal pains and cramps, depression, insomnia and general hypersensitivity both to touch as well as the other senses.

These pains can be a draining inconvenience, or so crippling it robs the person of the ability to walk or function.

Due to lack of research, it's believed that anywhere between 2-6% of the population suffers from it.

Many people suffering from fibro will say they often wake up more tired and in more pain than they were in when they went to bed. Experts often describe it as the brain losing its ability filter out pains the human body constantly experiences throughout the day.

One thing known for certain is that it's triggered by stress. It can be something as simple as a bad divorce, or a surgery, or a bout of illness, to trauma (either microtrauma over time or one definitive event). Fibro patients will say it's as if their brain finally had enough and started striking. Unfortunately there's no going back once that happens, as there is no cure, and fibro is likely to progress and worsen over time.

It's an illness that can't be proven through samples or x-rays, but rather it's diagnosed when no other cause can be found, and all other treatments have proven unhelpful.

We have records dating all the way to ancient Greece about people whose symptoms today are assumed by experts to be caused by fibro, though it wasn't until the 1900s that the illness got its own name and field of study. That's about all it's gotten, however.

Unfortunately most people with the diagnosis are AFAB, which means the illness is subject to sexism and is often ignored in the medical field, resulting in little research and funding, little knowledge, and a lot of challenges for people suffering from it. Recent numbers suggest that the gender disproportion is far smaller than presumed, however, likely due to other factors such as social stigma keeping men from seeking help.

Interestingly there looks to be a large overlap between fibro symptoms and long covid, which has in recent years caught the interest of researchers, so it's likely that the world will understand the illness more in the future, which will hopefully help people with fibro sometime down the line.

If nothing else, it might finally be recognised as the life changing illness it is, for currently there are still doctors who claim it's not real, and refuse to diagnose and treat it, instead claiming people with fibro are just lazy and overly sensitive.

It's because of these things that global awareness days are so important.

Increasing awareness about this barely understood and largely unknown disease, makes life easier for those who suffer from fibromyalgia both directly through general knowledge and understanding from people around them, to a larger scale where funding and research is vital to perhaps one day find a medication or cure. Or at least find an indisputable way to diagnose it.

Please consider sharing this in order to help with just that. 💜 May your day be as painless as possible.

[kaurwreck]

Literary criticism of Ryuunosuke Akutagawa wants so badly for him to have been spiritually fragile. He was wrought with doubt and skepticism, and he felt crushed beneath the pressures stacked on his thin frame by others' demands of him. He was certain there was prophecy written in his mother's insanity and her ghost was a fixture haunting the edges of his vision.

But, he was also overprescribed barbituates. Like, really, really overprescribed. High doses of barbituates are now known to cause irritability, paranoia, depression, and, sometimes, suicidal ideation. His spirit was fine; it was his pharmacologist who should have been scrutinized.

This is especially agitating to me when Ryuunosuke Akutagawa's malaise is contrasted against Nakajima's mettle. Nakajima was administered ephedrine for his chronic, debilitating asthma. Ephedrine weakened his heart, but has a dopamine transporter inhibitory effect similar to amphetamine and other stimulants. (Then, stimulants were gaining popularity as antidepressants and were supplied by the US, British, Japanese, and German militaries to servicemen during World War II.) In other words, there were confounding variables which might have attributed to one's sensitive nerves and the other's spirited focus.

Both men were brilliant writers who stylized their pediatric onset anxiety; profound insight; excessive cleverness; stubborn resistance to literary trends; and existential terror. Both men suffered from chronic mental and physical illnesses and overrelied on treatments widely prescribed but poorly suited for their conditions. Both men were killed in no small part by excessive administration of medication: the former by depressants meant to settle his disordered mind enough to sleep, and the latter by the stimulant meant to settle his disordered body enough to write. But, way too much ink has been spilled on insisting fragile nerves and spiritual weakness killed Akutagawa, while the cruelty of fate struck down Nakajima.

That is the problem with treating authors as if they're literary devices or signs of the times, rather than people who lived to save themselves.

[heroinuser88]

Did you know that long term alcohol use is worse for your brain & organs than long term clean diacetylmorphine use? Or most opioids in general? Did you know that alcohol kills more people annually than any other drug? So why is it that the former is legal, socially acceptable & advertised on every street corner & the latter is unfairly stigmatized, criminalized & demonized? Did you know opioids use to make great antidepressants & were once legal & used for such in the early 1900s? There are many legal & commonly available things that are addictive & more destructive on your physical health. Yet the masses have been conditioned to believe opiates/opioids are some of the most "dangerous" drugs. Swiss study showing 15 years of daily heroin use resulted in no adverse health complications - https://harmreductionjournal.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/s12954-020-00412-0 "No serious heroin-related medical complication occurred during the 15-year window of observation among inmates with heroin-assisted treatment. Their work performance was comparable to that of the reference group." Opioids as antidepressants - https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5189718/ " Historically, MOR agonists have also been applied in the treatment of mood disorders, notably including major depressive disorder (MDD). Indeed, until the mid-20th century, low doses of opium itself were used to treat depression, and the so called “opium cure” was purportedly quite effective.9 With the advent of tricyclic antidepressants (TCAs) in the 1950s however, the psychiatric use of opioids rapidly fell out of favor and has been largely dormant since, likely due to negative medical and societal perceptions stemming from their abuse potential. However, there have been scattered clinical reports (both case studies and small controlled trials) since the 1970s indicating the effectiveness of MOR agonists in treating depression. The endogenous opioid peptide β-endorphin, as well as a number of small molecules, have all been reported to rapidly and robustly improve the symptoms of MDD and/or anxiety disorders in the clinical setting, even in treatment resistant patients.10–17 These results have been recapitulated in rodent models, where a variety of MOR agonists show antidepressant effects.18–21 " One of the reasons heroin even became so heavily criminalized originally was so that they could target anti-war hippies & black communities - https://www.vera.org/reimagining-prison-webumentary/the-past-is-never-dead/drug-war-confessional “You want to know what this [war on drugs] was really all about? The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies: the antiwar left and black people. You understand what I’m saying?

We knew we couldn’t make it illegal to be either against the war or black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news. 

Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.��� - Nixon's Adviser The fact that you can drink yourself to death with alcohol or consume various toxic chemicals pushed by big names, but using opioids to enhance your life (be it pain or depression or both) makes you a "junkie" and a "criminal" who "needs help". This is a total hypocritical violation of people's right to bodily autonomy & their right to pursuit of happiness. END THE DRUG WAR