#you know I never really think of myself as being disabled because I've had my glasses for 20 years but damn

[trans-axolotl]

content note: this post talks about eugenics, incarceration and institutionalization, and violent ableism

tangent from that post because i didn't want to start writing an essay on someone else's post and this is about a conversation i had irl this month, not intended as a reply to that post. but i actually feel very complicated about the idea of whether or not we should be pushing for more "accessibility" in jails and prisons and psych wards and institutions. i put that word in quotes because i don't think there is ever a way that being incarcerated is actually accessible to our bodies and minds; it is a disabling experience on so many levels. i'm not going to list out all the reasons why on this post; i've made so many posts talking explicitly about the harms of institutionalization before and i don't want to do that again right now. Talila Lewis has given several interviews about ableism, incarceration, and disability that are really worth reading and go more in depth into what that violence looks like. Liat Ben Moshe has also given another interview about disability and incarceration that goes over many of the same topics. given that these places are intense sites of violence towards disabled people, it feels difficult for me to claim that they could ever truly be accessible in any meaningful sense of the word.

what's also true right now is that institutions and prisons are incredibly inaccessible for physically disabled people in particular. i've been arrested with a wheelchair, i've been institutionalized with a feeding tube on top of that as well, i've been held on medical floors for psych treatment before, and i know very well exactly how bad it is. i've watched myself and so many other physically disabled people almost die in these places because of sheer neglect. i have physically disabled neighbors who were killed in these places. it is so dangerous for physically disabled people who are locked up in these places, yet at the same time, often psych wards are so inaccessible that physically disabled people just can't even be admitted because wards refuse to take people with mobility aids, medical devices, specific types of medication or care needs, if you have some kinds of terminal illness, and on and on and on.

what's also true is that when these places are so inaccessible that many physically disabled people are excluded and unable to even access them in the first place, it doesn't mean that we then somehow access other types of care instead. it just means that we're also discarded and left to die. this also is a really similar dynamic for a ton of other marginalized groups that get excluded from psych care--many of my comrades who are people of color have also experienced this same type of denial of care. initially i think that can seem like a confusing contradiction--how is it that psych wards are locking up some people up against their will but refusing to take in other people? but when you start thinking about the underlying logic at the core of these systems, it makes sense.

psych wards operate under this idea that madness must be cured by any means possible, up to and including eradication. institutions are a way of disappearing madness from the world--hiding us away so that we don't disturb a sane society, and not letting us free again until we either die in there or are able to appear like we've sufficiently eradicated madness from our mind. preventing physically disabled people from accessing inpatient treatment is operating under the same assumptions--except that this particularly violent convergence of ableism is happy to just let us die, both because it eradicates madness from the world and because they view our lives as unworthy of living in the first place. eugenics is still alive and well in the united states and it's still fucking killing us; both inside institutions and outside of them.

i would never tell someone that they're privileged for getting institutionalized--i think that would be a cruel thing to say to someone who has just survived a lot of violent ableism. and at the same time, our current systems of mental health care are set up in a way where not being able to access inpatient care can be a deadly logistical nightmare. there are some partial hospitalization programs that have such a long waiting list that you can only really get in if you just got an urgent referral because you're getting discharged from inpatient care--how the fuck are physically disabled people supposed to access those programs? if you need meal support for your eating disorder 6 times a day and the only places that offer that are residential treatment in a house with stairs, what the fuck are you supposed to do? if noncarceral outpatient forms of treatment like therapy, support groups, PHP programs, peer support funding, etc etc etc are often prioritizing people who have recently been discharged from inpatient care, how are you supposed to access any type of mental health care at all? (to be clear i know that not all forms of outpatient care operate in this way, but a lot of state run/low cost programs that accept Medicaid/Medicare operate in that way, and i've seen it cause enough barriers that i know this is a very real problem.)

so when i think about what it would take to actually ensure that physically disabled people can access mental healthcare, there's a lot that comes up for me. on one hand, so much of my work is about tearing down institutions and ensuring that no one is forced into these places to face that type of violence. on the other hand, so many physically disabled people need care right now, and we have to figure out some way of making that happen given the current systems we have in place. i will never be okay with just discarding physically disabled people as collateral damage, and any world that we're building needs to be one that embraces disability from the beginning.

i keep thinking about the concept of non-reformist reforms that gets talked about a lot in the prison abolition movement. the idea behind non-reformist reforms is that usually, reforms work to reinforce the status quo. they're usually talked about in liberal language of "improvement" and "human rights", but when it comes down to it, they're still giving more power to harmful institutions and reinforcing state power. an example of a reformist reform is building a new jail that is bigger and has "nicer" services. or when the cops in my city tried to get funding for more wheelchair accessible cop vans. these are reformist reforms because when it comes down to it, it's still giving more money and legitimacy to the prison system and increasing the capacity to keep people locked up--even when people talk about it using language about welfare for prisoners, that's not actually what's happening. having more wheelchair accessible cop vans would be dangerous for the disabled people in my city--it's helped us out a LOT that it's so difficult for the cops to arrest multiple wheelchair users at once.

non-reformist reforms are the opposite of that--they're reforms that work to dismantle systems, redistribute power, and set the stage for more even more dramatic transformations. They're sort of an answer to the question of "what do we do right now if we can't go out and burn down all the prisons overnight?" Examples of a nonreformist reform are defunding prisons, getting rid of paid administrative leave for cops, shutting down old prisons and not building new ones, etc. they're steps we can take right now that don't fully abolish prisons, but still work to dismantle them, rather than making it easier for the system to keep going.

so, when we apply this to the psych system, what are some nonreformist reforms that could help make sure that all disabled people are having their needs met right now? Some ideas I'm having include fixing the problem of PHP/outpatient care requiring referrals from inpatient, increasing the amount of Medicaid/Medicare funding for outpatient mental health care, building physically accessible peer respites that allow caregivers to stay with you if needed, increasing SSI/SSDI to an actually liveable rate, creating more disability specific mental health resources, support groups, care webs, and a million other things we'd probably need to actually get our needs met. non-reformist reforms for people in psych wards right now might look like ensuring everyone has 24/7 access to phones and internet, ensuring that disabled people have access to mobility aids in these spaces, making sure that there's accessible nutrition for people with dietary restrictions and/or feeding tubes, and more.

when i see people saying that we need to ensure that psych wards or prisons are made accessible it makes me feel nervous. i worry that the changes required to do that wouldn't actually provide care to disabled people, i worry it would just make it easier for increasing numbers of disabled people to get locked up and harmed all while people claimed it was a success story of "inclusion." i worry that it would just continue to cement carceral treatment as the only option for existing as a disabled person, and that it would make it harder for us to live in our communities, with the services and adaptations we need. when i think about abolition, i'm always thinking about what can we do right now, what do disabled people who are incarcerated and institutionalized need right now, what can we do right now to ensure that everyone is surviving and getting their needs met. i'm not willing to ignore or discard my incarcerated disabled comrades in the moment because of my dreams for an abolitionist future, i'm always going to support our organizing in these places as we try to survive them.

overall i guess what i'm saying is that i think making inpatient psych care accessible would require dismantling and fundamentally destroying the whole system. I can't imagine a way of doing that within the current system that wouldn't just continue to harm disabled people. and that as a psych abolitionist i think that means we have a responsibility to each other right now to fight for that, to understand that physically disabled people not being able to access mental health care is an incredibly urgent need. I refuse to treat my MadDisabled comrades as disposable: our lives are valuable and worth fighting for.

i'm also going to link to the HEARD organization on this post. They're one of the few abolitionist organizations that does direct advocacy and support for deaf and disabled people in prisons. if you or one of your disabled community members ever gets incarcerated in jail/prison, they have a lot of resources. donate to support their work if you can.

[lastoneout]

It's also like super fucking infuriating to see people continue to argue that generative AI is the best way for disabled and/or poor people to make art because like, you know what helps make art more accessible? Giving poor and disabled people money.

Like take me for instance, I'm disabled. I get severe migraines and intense leg/back pain if I sit at my computer for too long, my hEDS makes holding pens and pencils hard, my ADHD makes it hard for me to start certain tasks and/or stop them before I potentially hurt myself, my neck also hurts if I look down too much, my dyslexia AND my ADHD both make it difficult to keep track of a story as I write and use correct spelling and grammar, plus, I need to prioritize taking care of myself and going to appointments and keeping my house clean and that takes up a lot of my free time. All of these things make creating the kind of art I want to create difficult if not occasionally impossible.

So what do you think would solve my problems better? Giving me money so that I can have a drawing tablet and desk chair that won't hurt my neck or back, another tablet + pen and a lap table and comfortable body pillows for drawing in bed, easier transportation to my doctors appointments, effective treatment for my chronic pain and migraines, the ability hire someone to help me keep my house clean, a spelling/grammar checker that isn't complete ass, and a therapist and psychatrist who can help me manage my ADHD better?

Or an AI program that takes my input and spits out a drawing or story made of stolen content glued together that, in the case of the art, I cannot meaningfully edit without starting over, which also destroys the environment in the process?

Seems pretty obvious to me. I don't need AI, I need help to manage the things that are actually stopping me from being able to write and draw.

Or take my mom. She's had severe rhumatoid arthritis since she was a small child, her hands are deformed and she relies on her wheelchair to get around. She doesn't need AI to help her paint, she needs special paint brushes she can actually hold, a table her wheelchair will fit at, and someone to help her with personal hygiene/keep her house clean/take her to doctors appointments so she actually has free time to paint.

Does that poor kid growing up in public housing with parents who are too poor to afford art classes or supplies or to send them to college really need a computer program to draw for them, or do they need support to help them take those classes, buy drawing supplies, and money so they can go to college.

Blind people can paint, deaf musicians exist, people with missing limbs find all sorts of ways to make art, people with parkinson's paint with typewriters, my mother can't hold a normal paintbrush and she makes some of the most beautiful watercolor paintings I've ever seen, Van Gogh had bipolar disorder and only sold like one painting when he was alive, I mean for real how many different artists have you heard of who's biographies start with them being born into poverty?

This is not meant to be inspiration porn, these people are just ones who were able to find ways to make art despite their struggles. They shouldn't have had to struggle at all, but god imagine how many more artisrs and writers we could have had if none of them had to overcome those struggles. It breaks my heart to think of all the wonderful art that never got to exist because no one helped the people who could have made it actually have the time, money, support, and safety they needed to make it. AI would not have saved them because making art isn't the problem, being disadvantaged is the problem. Living in a world that refuses to make room for you is the problem. Being fucking poor is the problem. Humans have always found ways to make art despite huge barriers, the solution isn't a computer that makes art for them, it's SUPPORT AND MONEY SO THEY CAN OVERCOME THOSE BARRIERS AND MAKE THEIR OWN ART.

As a last example: I love watching dancing and I would love to be able to dance, but I'm terrible at it(I got kicked off a dance team for not being able to learn the dance at all despite spending weeks on it, idk my brain wasn't made for dancing) and my disabled body makes it more pain than pleasure if not actively dangerous, anyway. Having a robot dressed to look like me dance next to me while I get to watch would not make me feel like I'm getting to dance. It would actually be extremely fucking demoralizing and frustrating. I would hate that!!

Having an AI spit out a painting or book would not make me feel like I got to paint or write a book. It's a fucking anamatronic doll running on stolen ideas and it will never be the same as getting to actually expirience the joy of creating art first hand. AI is not the solution. Helping people who need it is the solution. And I am CONSTANTLY pissed to think about all the time and money that goes into these fucking AI programs that would be better spent helping disabled and poor people get the help they need so they can make art themselves, all while the people running the nightmare plagiarism pollution machines pretend that their horrible inventions exist to help people like me.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/768686563949428736/honestly-i-do-kinda-think-the-discussion-around?source=share

idk, I think the "what's the alternative" argument still misses the point somewhat though.

for me, the point of "my body my choice" is literally just that - forcing a pregnancy on someone that they don't want (or forcing them to abort one they do want, for that matter) is SUCH a massive violation of bodily autonomy that the "reasons" for doing that don't matter. pregnancy fundamentally changes your body and affects everything about your health for 9 months. pregnancies that go wrong can threaten the life of the pregnant person AND their baby. that shouldn't be something people have to go through if they on board with it, period. for the same reasons you can't be forced to donate any part of your body if you aren't okay with doing that, even if you could do fine without it and the other person would die.

that's why as a disabled person myself i have no patience for the people who cry about "disability abortions" or compare it to eugenics. because sorry but people with ableist beliefs still deserve bodily autonomy, and it's just as much of a violation of their autonomy - and therefore their most basic human rights - to force them to go through with a pregnancy because their reasons make YOU, a person who is not going through that pregnancy, feel troubled. as i've seen posts on here say, you can't "perform eugenics on your own uterus." you are not obligated to give birth to any person you don't want to, and that is fundamentally different than a government or society killing people for who they are. same with people who want to abort because of the baby's sex. same with people who want to abort because, idk, they were given an expected date in the first week of january and they don't want their baby to be a capricorn. (i know this sounds like a joke but i have friends who are a hippie lesbian couple who announced the birth of their son with "it's a [his expected astrological sign]!" which was really funny because he was born a couple weeks early and then turned out to be the previous sign. so, people who take astrology way too seriously DO have babies)

i think that unfortunately and especially for a lot of people with conservative upbringings, a lot of people tend to see a hypothetical fetus with some identity in common with them and project themselves into that situation. the "what if i had been aborted?" thing but somewhat less self-aware about it. some feminist writing in the 80s talked about men doing this with aborted fetuses, seeing themselves as a male fetus being "killed" by a woman, but i think it's clear some women do it too when they share a (potential) identity category with a fetus. and i think the bigger issue here is that it erases the pregnant person. even the argument anon is making here, which again they're right about, still focuses on the outcomes for the baby rather than the person carrying them. and i think you "get" pro-choice politics better when you make a point of centering the person who is pregnant, and resisting any framing that (consciously or not) frames them as just a place where the baby grows. for instance, as a disabled person, my disability comes with a low pain tolerance that is a big part of why i never want to be pregnant. there are a lot of disabled people where that disability interacts negatively with their pregnancy in some way, and disabled pregnant people are usually among the first whose rights anti-choice people try to take away, whether it's their right to choose an abortion, or right to procreate in the first place, or right to raise the child they give birth to. i just really cannot take your disability rights advocacy very seriously when "disability + abortion" for you is only ever about the fetus and never about the pregnant person! (or also, when people fearmonger about autism screening for abortion. both because a lot of those people seem to think that's currently happening when it's not, but also everything we know about autism so far suggests it's extremely unlikely to be something we can ever detect with precision in utero. starting with that it's probably not caused by purely by genetic factors in the first place, and also that it's likely not just one specific thing caused by one gene. they're able to screen for down syndrome because it involves an extra chromosome, which is extremely easy to detect. also, sidenote, before people go into shaming people who abort fetuses with trisomy 21, keep in mind that there's a lot more to down syndrome than intellectual disability, including most people who have it having life-threatening heart problems that tend to keep them in the hospital for the first several months or even years of life. there are a lot of reasons people don't want their children to go through that, especially people without consistent access to health care, that is not just "ableism" toward the intellectually disabled.) geezus, this got long. sorry about that. i guess i just had a lot of thoughts about it, hope they were enlightening enough to anyone reading along to be worth the verbosity! but they were a lot of what convinced me when i used to be one of those people who was uncomfortable with "disability abortions"

--

Well said.

I think it's important that we let ourselves have our emotions about other people's choices without thinking they're a basis for policy. What if my child needs my kidney? Should I be legally obligated to donate? People will think I'm an asshole if I don't, but should I be obligated to?

[star-anise]

So, Easy Beauty by Chloé Cooper-Jones is not by any means a straightforward tale of the specific traumas and experiences of being a disabled woman. In many ways, it's an examination of how holding onto those traumas too tightly can keep you not just from positive chances for connection and experience, but understanding when your choices and behaviours are hurting other people.

But. It does talk about the trauma. And specifically, this splinter I've spent months now slowly drawing out of my soul, because this never happened to me except for the version of it that did happen to me. In her case, it was a conversation with a friend in high school:

I approached him in the library of our school. He was studying for a geometry test. He saw me, closed his notebook, and smiled. “I feel like,” he said, teasing me, “there might be something you want to talk to me about.” I told him yes, there was, and I said that I wanted to go to the homecoming dance with him and would he take me. “Of course,” he said. Relief flooded through me so quickly it turned my stomach. “But,” he continued, “there’s something very important I need to talk to you about first.” He proceeded to tell me that our female friends had been pressuring him for weeks to ask me to the dance, not wanting me to feel left out. “They love you,” he said, “but they pity you and their pity won't help you in the world.” I can, to this day, recall the exact even tone in his voice, his smile. He reached across the table and took my hand. “I want to tell you something as your friend,” he said. “I want to protect you. When you ask a man like me on a date, you put us in a bad position.” He was still smiling; I was having a cute delusion and was in need of his loving, if uncomfortable, correction. “It’s just the truth,” Jim said. “No man will want to date you unless he, too, is desperate or ugly.”

What I've felt, since I was very young, was this sense not just that no one would ever love me, but that I was so pitiful, so unlovable, such a complete failure of femininity, that expressing interest in another person was tantamount to forcing them to pity-fuck me. And how could I do something that horrible to them?

Well, at least in the years since then, I've learned that actually people feel no compunction about rejecting me!

I have almost always felt like such a complete failure at femininity, to the point that discussions about the female experience feel hypnotically surreal, because these things never happen to me. Y'all get catcalled and hit on? I'm struggling to dredge up memories of experiencing that firsthand. I grew up with grownups always warning me about men who'd want me for sex but didn't actually love me, and now I'm like... being wanted for sex? What's that like? I have literally ten seconds of experience of my desire for someone else being something that excited and interested them.

This is my own personal neurosis, not a prescription for widespread behaviour. But I've always kind of hated when people talk about slowburn romances and stories with pining as "two idiots in love" because on a visceral level, it doesn't feel stupid to me to believe you're repulsive and nobody will ever want you. It has always felt like the natural and obvious conclusion to enter adulthood with.

Up until two weeks ago I've always been very careful to describe my feelings about my body as part of me being crazy--I hate the way I look, I don't like seeing or hearing recordings of myself, I think I'm not pretty. Because obviously that means I'm actively working to rid myself of those emotions and attitudes! I've got it handled! I've admitted that I have a problem!

And that's because I always had it locked away in my heart that if I tried to make a factual claim about being ugly, people would say "No you're not!" just to make me feel better, and then I would never ever know if anyone who found me attractive really meant it, or if they were just doing it out of pity.

That is crazy. That's holding onto the lesson of that fucking shitbag who found Chloé attractive and fuckable two months fucking later once he got over himself. That's sitting around waiting for someone to come climb up into my unfuckable tower and do all the work of establishing a relationship themselves. That's lesbian sheep behaviour.

It's only just begun to feel possible that I could begin to take steps to seek people out and express interest in them, instead of holding perfectly still and making someone else do all the heavy lifting to get to me, when I haven't even made it known I wanted them to.

But this doesn't get talked about as part of "the female experience". When men talk about women's experiences in the dating market, they absolutely never mean women like me. Why bother with the experiences of women they wouldn't want to fuck anyway? It's not like we're people or some shit like that.

[anonmousegosqueak]

I've been having shitty sickness and period time (god I want a dick) so pls have my unedited thoughts.

Johnny and Simon in almost any AU give me "Fair" by The Amazing Devils that it's not even funny anymore. I just cry whenever I hear that song because I've got so many ghoap scenes in my head.

Transmasc Gaz who has like, no period cramps at all, even though his t-shots are a little all over the place cause of missions. Johnny on the other hand, dies. Every time he gets a period, cause he's even worse about his shots, he's reduced to a victorian child in Roach's bed (the most blankets) cursing out Gaz and trying to telepathically transfer his cramps.

Price had a fat crush on Nik, and the boys teased him about it for literal months, were open to bringing the pilot into the fold. "More the merrier" as Johnny said. Nik declined a relationship (aromantic hc) but is always up for some good sex when he's on base.

To me, Simon looks similar to Jeremy Allen White. It's mainly the nose, the hair, and the dimples. Like, I love 'pretty boy' Simon, but unconventionally attractive Simon is my favourite.

Roach loves Star Trek for the same reasons I do. Loves that disabilities aren't 'cured' but have accommodations, that people are so openly themselves and it's just accepted. His favourite characters are Tuvok (ST: Voyager), Geordi (ST: Next Generation), and Jim Kirk (ST: Original Series). His favourite installment of the franchise is Deep Space 9, and he makes everyone watch at least three episodes before they can decide if they like it or not.

-🦴

Boner, you literally bullied me into answering this (/j, dw I'm being dramatic) by asking if you asked this. Ask-ask? Whatever, if I write this then I might write more today.

Honestly, I think all of these are like- really good? And really fleshed out? I dunno what to say so I've decided to take my favorite one and make a little minific/story/idk-just-talking-about-a-time-it-happened about it.

Under the cut because 1) I might use a curse words :0 and 2) I'm sick of trying to find a post and scrolling through miles long text because it doesn't automatically cut it on my own page.

Real cw(with less jokes)- trans men getting periods, cursing, pain from said period, I think there's a sex joke or two?

Cw- talks of men getting periods, they all be smoochin, that's right I made it undefined poly141, I myself get the most irregular periods and don't actually know what it's like to be normal (aka period inaccuracies?), occasional Scottish accent but not fully written out so like cringe ig?

Poor Johnny.

Basically everyone knew when that time of the month (he's lucky if it has a schedule) came around. Everything gets noticeably quieter, less explosions, and at least one other member disappeared alongside Soap.

He didn't think much about it on the ride back. Yeah his stomach hurt a bit, but that was probably just the rations. He was covered in sweat and probably some enemy blood, that's probably the reason his legs feel sticky. That's it... Right?

That is, until Ghost is silently nudging him to shut his legs. He of course is about to argue, only getting cut off when Ghost leans down and whispers.

"you're bleeding through your pants, MacTavish."

Oh. That gets him about as red as the blood he's now acutely aware of, embarrassed he didn't notice. *Goddamnit.*

As soon as they touch down, he's grabbing hightailing it to the showers. Makes a quick stop to grab his toiletry bag, a change of clothes, and an old towel that he doesn't care about getting some blood on. Then, he's stripping down (praying he can save this pair of pants, he really likes 'em and doesn't want them to be stained forever) and scrubbing every inch of his body. Sure enough, it looks like that one scene from the shining down there.

He'd never been blessed with light flow.

As if being summoned by his panic, the cramps double. The adrenaline of the battlefield was able to distract him for a while, but it's worn off by now. He's already gritting his teeth and cussing out whatever God made his dumbass uterus (that he didn't even want!) so fucking painful. Do his thoughts make full sense? Na. Is the message clear? Yup. Besides, the quiet rambling helps keep him distracted.

He literally screams when a pair of arms wrap around his torso.

"Woah- Tav! Relax, just me."

Sure enough, behind him stands a very wet Gaz. How long had he been there?

"You alright, mate?"

"Aye, never better."

God- the sarcasm is practically dripping from every word. Soap tends to get a bit salty at Gaz around this time. Chalk it up to jealousy.

"Oi- none of that. Just relax, alright? I'll wash your hair, 's long as you don't scream again."

Soap doesn't say much, he simply grumbles and slouches down, melting slightly as slim fingers run through his hair.

He doesn't say anything as the water shuts off, as he gets scooped up, as he gets worked into a pair of boxers (the ones with the sewn in pad, Soap realizes) and carried out of the shower room. He doesn't say anything as he gets laid down on a comfy bed and covered in blankets. The most sounds he makes are moans from pain and a little happy sound as Roach curls up around him.

The last thing he remembers before passing out is Roach looking up at him, eyes sparkling.

'they say sex helps cramps?'

"Shut up- hot water bottles don't speak."

That little squeaky giggle lulls him to sleep, pain subsiding just a bit. Maybe in the morning he'll take Roach up on that offer, for now though, it's sleepy time.

Idk, just short and sweet. I feel like Boner explained the whole thing very well, I just wanted to make a story where Soap gets cuddles and Roach is horny. The end ig?

[andhumanslovedstories]

hi! i'm gonna overshare a little bit but i'm doing my nursing prereqs right now and i'm really worried. i'm kind of really mentally ill and i've been worrying recently if nursing is worth it. i want to help people and it sounds so interesting and i love medical stuff but i don't want to get burnt out with the stress and long hours. someone told me that nursing is a lot like being a restaurant server, and i don't want to go to school and get a degree and a career that's literally just serving again. is it satisfying? is it rewarding? is it soul-killing? i'm scared

hi there! I'll overshare in return! I'm just coming off three months of disability for burnout (which for me is just depression but with a name you can use in the workplace). My job didn't cause my depression, but it certainly exacerbated it. The hours, the stress, the constant exposure to people suffering and the limits on your ability to do something about it, all those suck and they can break your brain. (On the other hand, I've been majorly depressed while working at an ice cream parlor where the walk-in freezer was for smoking weed. You can be depressed anywhere.)

And it is a hard job! Harder in some parts of the field than others. Different places have different nursing cultures, different laws, different staffing, etc. Where I work, there's good protection and advocacy for nursing. That's not true everywhere.

With all that said--I really like nursing. I get to do work that I know contributes good to the world. I get to solve very practical problems. I meet people I would never otherwise meet. I have the opportunity every shift to do something that I am proud of. And a lot of times, I find it fun! It's fun to brainstorm how to make someone who's been puking all night feel better. It's fun to see your efforts rewarded, even in small ways. It's fun to stop something before it becomes an emergency. It's fun bustling around, juggling a dozen different things. It's not ALWAYS fun. But for me, the work is not just meaningful but also enjoyable.

That's how I knew I had bad burnout btw. Even when things went well and I did work I was proud of, every shift was such a fucking slog.

If you are interested in the basic work of nursing (managing the human response to illness and promoting health), then there's a million and one jobs you can do with a nursing degree. They cater to different traits. I've discovered I really like precepting new nurses, I like working on the floor with its routine and concrete goals, and I like symptom management. I don't like critical care or the emergency department or working on stuff that isn't patient care, like paperwork and charge nursing. I like novelty but not chaos. I like independence but not being left entirely to my own devices. I like that I physically cannot take any of my work home. I do not like being on committees. So for me, right now at this point in my life, I like being a basic med-surg night shift float pool nurse. I would be absolutely miserable as a neuro ICU critical care day shift nurse. I would be bored to death being an inpatient rehab night nurse. Being a nurse manager would probably make me suicidal again.

If you find the basic work interesting and rewarding, you can tailor it to your taste. (I can't recommend floor nursing enough for the adhd havers amongst us.)

and last thing, regarding mental illness: I think a lot of nurses (and ppl in healthcare in general) struggle with mental illness way more than they think they do. Someone who knows they have depression and works to manage it will likely be more resilient than someone endlessly pushing through their fatigue and misery. Probably a better nurse, too. I take meds, go to therapy, get sleep, push myself to eat, take sick days, protect my limited energy, do physical activity--I'm a gym girlie now!!--because I'm treating a disease I know that I have. Just knowing that there's something up with your brain and doing something about it puts you way ahead like half of the people who work the emergency department.

[risingphoenix24601]

Why (stage) Nessa is Ableist: An Essay

Disclaimer: I am disabled, but not a wheelchair user. I am chronically ill (EDS + all the bs that comes with it) and neurodivergent (ADHD, SPD, awaiting an Autism eval).

I will start with my personal perspective. My gripe with Nessa is that she is spoiled, her father favors her, and she expects everything to be done for her and soaks up everyone's pity. I'm not saying this never happens, but I feel like a lot of people just assume our parents coddle us and that our lives are easier, as if being disabled is some sort of advantage, and I've even seen us represented as going around looking for people entrap into helping us. When I was in high school, some kids found out I had a 504, became jealous (bruh, I'm jealous that you were born with high-speed internet brains) immediately assumed I was an arrogant prick who thought I deserved "special treatment," and took it upon themselves to make sure I felt like a burden. Believe me, being born into a world that doesn't know you exist is NOT an advantage.

Getting into more specific stuff: the movie did a great job correcting this, but since I'm talking about the stage version, I'm just going to list it: Elphaba's going to school just to care for Nessa, but I don't think she's in a position where she would need a full-time care-taker, so there's the trope of us entrapping people to do our bidding and that we're burdens on others (movie made clear that the dad is the asshole here and not Nessa). Second, many characters, some of whom don't know her at all, wheel Nessa around. You NEVER touch a person's mobility aids without their permission. Again, move fixed this. Third, Nessa says to Elphaba "I'm about the first happy night of my life!" Don't get me wrong, having a disability can really suck, but it doesn't mean our only emotion is misery. Plenty of disabled people live meaningful, fulfilling lives. My uncle has commented to me that he'd never guess I'm sick because "those people usually go around with a scowl." My uncle is Vietnam war vet. I'm sure if I knew half of the hell he went through, I would be shocked that he doesn't walk around with a scowl either-- but life goes on.

I'm going to address the controversy of the cure in Act II. Let me make this clear: plenty of disabled people want to be cured, and portraying someone who wants to be cured is not problematic. What is problematic, however, is that this is a very complicated topic and the show presents it in a way that is very simple. I'll use myself as an example: I would cure my EDS in a heartbeat, but neurodivergence, I honestly don't know. I am now at a point where I don't hate myself and actually like the way I am, but there are still days that I wish I was normal. I don't view my neurodivergence as a "gift" or another way of being, it is a disability and my life is harder because of it. And yet, I would be a completely different person without it. And I'm not sure if that's a person who I'd want to be.

We must remember that Nessa has been disabled since birth, this is her normal. And more than that, it's part of who she is. Suddenly being able to walk would be a massive change, and not necessarily a welcome one-- I think she would have the same fears that I have regarding fixing my neurodivergence. I also don't think Nessa is in a significant amount of pain or discomfort. So, ultimately, she is not disabled by her physical condition, she is disabled by the world around her.

This is, is my opinion, the biggest problem with the Wicked Witch of the East scene. Nessa's life is undeniably harder, but the lyrics incorrectly ascribe her suffering to her disability, when her suffering is actually caused by ableism. Also, wheelchairs are tools of accessibility. They are not bad or shameful things.

So yeah. I'm sorry that was long, but I've been seeing a lot of people asking about why it's ableist and there's no way to explain in one or two sentences, because this a complicated topic with complicated feelings. I hope I covered all the bases.

[femsolid]

Had a little exchange with a client that started fine, she was sorry to see me go because I'm quitting my job. I thanked her and said I enjoyed working for her too, but the work was causing me health issues and was not doable with my disabilities. I said I was starting a new job right away, a desk job which will be a nice rest for me. And then she said "oh I understand, I too realized that health is really important and need to be protected when I had children. It's such hard work, you need to be physically prepared. Do you have children?" And I said no. The usual awkward silence happened. My concerns for my own health and comfort suddenly appearing selfish and unjustified. She said "oh well, you still have time, how old are you?" They always say that because they think I'm 25 or something. I said "I'm 34." Another awkward silence. "Well uh, you never know, you'll probably want to have children someday and you'll need all the preparation you can get right?" Why? Why can't a woman prioritise her health for the sake of it? Why does it have to be in anticipation of mandatory motherhood, the great martyrdom? Feels like being prepared for a ritual sacrifice. Rest, eat, be beautiful and adorned before they chop your head off. In some culture they literally force-feed the bride to fatten her up before the wedding. They'll make foie gras out of you. Made me think of that post saying the most feminist thing a woman can do is refuse to suffer. I'm quitting because I refuse to suffer any longer. The end goal is not to be better at suffering later on. It's not to suffer at all. And somehow they'll make you feel selfish for it.

And one last thing, it's the awkward pause everytime I say I don't have kids. A lot of women try to bond with other women not by talking about common interests, opinions, hobbies, it's just "do you have kids?" and the expectant "yes" which prompts the following script "how many? What age? Boy or girl? Which school?" And on and on. And you can understand why, their kids are central to their lives and it's a sacrifice they expect, even wish to share with other women. So when the answer is no they don't know what to say next. They say nothing. I used to justify myself "no, I never wanted it for some reason, I'm fine with them I've worked with children, I just never wanted to have any." Now I just say "no :)" and it's a conversation killer.

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

Hannibal Dash Simulator Season 2

🔍iwishididn'thaveatwin reblogged

🐈‍⬛team-sassy-science

Me and @ autopsyguy going to get some drinks after work.

@ teamsassyscience Why wasn't I invited? And who took that picture?

13 notes

#friends #who i will forgive for not inviting me drinking this one time

🌸flowers-in-bloom reblogged

I know this is a stretch, but has anyone seen my dog? He keeps running away and I haven't gotten the chance to microchip him because of this. If you see him, he answers to Winston, and my address is on his collar (he's the one on the upper left, this is the only picture I have).

🌸flowers-in-bloom

Never mind. I found him. Thank you to everyone who tried to help. He is now microchipped.

🌸flowers-in-bloom

Winston ran away again. The microchip is not 100% accurate, so please, if you see him, let me know. I'm afraid he might get hit by a car or attacked by a wild animal.

821 notes

#dogs #dog #missing dog

🔍iwishididn'thaveatwin

Okay, something happened at work, and I am currently OBSESSED. Just have to share this with you guys. This article is the best. I set up the link, so just click the picture.

174 notes

#bees #apiary #honey production

🔥Sponsored

_________Verger Meat Packaging

Fresh, high-quality meat. Perfect for any occasion. Pork, beef, and chicken from a variety of breeds, available for all budgets. Professionally raised on one of the oldest farms in the state.

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0 notes

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

Petition to save local songbird habit from complete destruction

Local Baltimore City Council Sheldon Isley brokered a deal several years ago to turn the habit of endangered songbirds into a parking lot. Recently, there have been discussions going on further developing what little remains of these birds' home. More information and links below the cut.

_______________________Keep Reading

7,843 notes

#birds #petition #songbirds #wildlife #baltimore

🐎animal-lover12233

4 notes

🦅lonesome-hawk reblogged lonesome-hawk

Just LOOK at him.

🦅lonesome-hawk

Yes, I know he's on trial for murder. But if you had been following the trial like I have, you would know he's being framed. Now shut up and leave me alone. I'm disabling comments.

843 notes

🌸flowers-in-bloom

😶‍🌫️Anonymous asked:

Aren't those @ dogsandflyfishing's dogs?

Yes, they are. I am taking care of them for him while he is unable to.

2 notes

#ask answered

📸tattlecrime-official

Coming soon!

The REAL story of Will Graham and how his peculiar mind works, and how he was tragically framed to be the infamous Chesapeake Ripper.

Click on the links below to subscribe to TattleCrime.com for official updates and exclusive snippets.

-------------------------------Keep Reading

365 notes

#tattlecrime #official story #will graham

🐻prehistoric-predator

I'm partial to the Cave Bear myself, but a Dire Wolf is also a good choice. Before you vote, I've got some studies and info in the link below and some general information so you can make informed decision.

I'm curious to see what you guys think; I'm having to make a really tough decision right now.

Reblog for larger sample size

_______________________Keep Reading

69 notes

#cave bear #dire wolf #poll #polls #my poll

🐕dogsandflyfishing reblogged

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

Lomo Saltado

Recipe below cut.

_______________________Keep Reading

37 notes

#recipe #cooking #lomo saltado

🐕dogsandflyingfishing

Everyone who is asking about Buster in the last picture I put up, he is okay. He got on the wrong side of a wild animal, which happens from to time when you live in a rural area. He needed stitches, but he will be fine. Stop accusing me of mistreating my dogs.

12 notes

#ask answered

😷autopsyguy

I've been going through a hard time lately. A friend of mine recently passed, @ teamsassyscience, and I've been thinking about her a lot. Two other friends of mine, @ dogsandflyfishing and @ flowers-in-bloom, along with my boss, are currently in the hospital and things don't look good. I'm really worried

Not what any of you wanted to hear, but I just needed to vent and didn't know where else to do it.

Here's to Beverly, and hoping that Will, Alana, and Jack pull through.

73 notes

📸tattlecrime-official

EXCLUSIVE!

A Red Dinner

Today, the entire city of Baltimore was rocked by the shocking revelation that renowned psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, is indeed the true Chesapeake Ripper. According to sources, Lecter very nearly took the lives of three people, and killed a third. Will Graham, once accused himself of being the Ripper. Dr. Alana Bloom, his lover. And Special Agent Jack Crawford of the FBI, a man Lecter has worked with closely in recent months. The one victim who was DOA is reportedly none other than Abigail Hobbs, who has been assumed murdered for months now, previously by none other than Will Graham. And what's more, it turns out he isn't just a serial killer, he is a cannibal as well.

Click Here for the rest of the story on TattleCrime.com

7,651 notes

#tattlecrime #official #hannibal the cannibal

[qoldenskies]

Hi, this is a silly question, but welp. Do you think publishing new content on ao3 pays off? I feel like the fandom is dying a bit and I don't know if it's worth writing ff :((

maybe this is just my personal opinion because i wasnt here at the height of the hype especially in 2022 (i watched the show in march 2024 and got into the fandom in june), but the rise fandom is not dying, dont worry.

there are posts here that frequently get thousands of notes, sometimes within days, fics that have gotten pretty popular that are RECENT, a whole culture of aus and events and zines that are still running.

ive been in dying fandoms (the pjo book fandom is so dead yall its joever) and in fandoms that were never even big in the first place (i was in a niche pokemon webcomic community that had upwards of maybe like 40 people active in its discord server, and most of the adults there were republicans or child groomers or usually both .... i know hell, i was there for like four years. trust me) and i havent been in a community as big as rise's since liiike. 2019, i think!

and regardless of any new official content coming out, its also good to note that there are a lot of active and dedicated tmnt fans who make official content for other, much older iterations too, and ive noticed a lot of the people who do are older which is definitely a good thing. fandoms at the peak of their hype are usually INSANELY preteen-infested and it's not a good environment i think should be desired. the discourse i see going around on tiktok right now is deranged but its not new by any means. i REFUSE to be a boomer because im only 18 and i know what its like to be 12, but i do not desire nor envy that kind of fame BAHFHDHGH

but like still. point i was getting to is that even if its not at its peak of popularity i dont think the fandom will be dying any time soon and it's not something to be afraid of. i can cite several fics that did wonderfully in numbers (although i dont recommend basing quality off that, its just important to note) despite being recent and have had the fandom in a chokehold as of late. canary continuity could probably count as one of those considering how crazy it was around november or so..... i miss november :')

i think we all kind of see ourselves like drops of water in a bucket and hesitate to come in so strong because we underestimate the importance of our own voices, especially because fandom attracts very socially anxious people, but a lot of the anxiety about engagement can be mitigated by engaging yourself and being the change you want to see! this also counts with creating content-- the thing about ao3 is that you can have completely different audiences for different fics unlike other platforms from what i've seen, so something may flop at first and then do really well later, or even take a while to kick off (cvd and coming undone have been getting some love lately ive noticed... i keep telling myself i'll continue them and then forgetting)

i'd say its definitely worth a shot to post, because ive noticed that ao3 comment sections are overwhelmingly positive in most cases. ive gotten some passive-aggressive or pushy comments before (usually out of confusion because they werent paying attention, which isnt my fault, or because theyre excited and what to see more, which i still do find flattering) but its always been in a sea of a lot of really wonderful people, which has been really helpful because i have disabling anxiety and constantly doubt myself haha.

i think the advice i see a lot of "write for yourself" is kind of unhelpful and doesn't get to the root of the problem because i think it takes away from the fact that art is such a deeply social part of human expression, and we create it to share it,,, i think a better way to put it is that you should write self-indulgently, and there's always a good chance of finding your people by the time you're finished-- i've connected with a lot of people with VERY similar tastes to me because of my writing and it's been miraculous because as great as my other friends are, their interests vary wildly from mine LOL. its worth it even if you dont kick off immediately!!! and of course i urge everyone to engage with artists and writers whenever you can, it means the world to them!!

[gayaest]

I just want to say your Paravolley AU has helped me a lot with overcoming internalized ableism, made me learn about sitting volleyball, and has also gotten me to read and watch Haikyuu again after years. I've been a volleyball person my whole life but I got a sports injury in highschool and now use a cane (and hopefully a rollator walker in the future).

Kageyama Tobio has always been my favorite character and seeing him in your AU hit me really hard. Though we don't have the same injury, I saw myself in your portrayal of him very much.

Your AU had made me re-evaluate the Haikyuu manga and anime through a disabled lense, and made me fall in love with Furudate's story all over again. Even stronger than it was before. And I adore the parallels you decided to put with your own AU.

I've since been searching up if there's sitting volleyball in my area (with little luck so far but dammit I'm going to keep looking). I'm so disappointed that it's never been brought up to me when I got injured. I'm upset that I was convinced that I'd never have a place in volleyball again. I legitimately started crying tears of joy when I learned sitting volleyball existed.

Thank you so much for your AU. I think it'll have a special place in my heart for a long time.

This is a genuinely sweet and kind-hearted message, and I have to thank you for sending it.

It means a lot that my AU brings comfort to not only myself, but other disabled people as well — the idea that my experiences, thoughts, feelings, research, etc is being put to good use to help and soothe people is more than I could ever wish to achieve or want.

I think something so important in my AU with Kageyama is that he wasn’t born disabled, he got his spinal cord injury at one of the worst points in his life, while simultaneously losing his support system (grandfather). He had no idea how to cope with becoming disabled because the people he surrounded himself with previously (MiddleSchool Volleyball Team) all turned their back on him and his drive to still want to play volleyball and feel lost without it. In turn, he turns that anger and fear and disappointment into internalized ableism, and even some outwards ableism he doesn’t even realize he needs to fix, because it’s just something most able-bodied people get told or believe. He pushes himself past his limits, hoping that he could one day be back to his old self, but that old self no longer exists, and that’s something the Karasuno Sitting Volleyball team teaches him. They teach him acceptance, support, community, etc when he didn’t even know it existed before.

I’m glad my AU can resonate with so many people, and I wish I could blab even more about it because it’s always in my head constantly, so if anyone has any questions, feel free to ask about it.

Furudate’s story is truly amazing, and to me, it doesn’t lose it’s charm and meaning for me as a disabled person, in fact, in makes me want to form even bigger bonds with community and other disabled people.

Thank you again for the ask, anon! It’s very sweet.

[softantlers]

Idk if you’ve been asked this before but do you think Nat (or anyone in general) knows about Lottie’s schizophrenia? And is that why Nat doesn’t really believe in “it” because she knows Lottie’s just imagining things?

haven't been asked that before! thanks for asking!

so my thing with this is that- lottie is a bit exceptional?? the idea of a girl that young being diagnosed with schizophrenia and medicated in the 90s is kinda unreal. (this is why i sometimes question her diagnosis, but that's another story.) i'm pretty sure childhood-onset schizophrenia is extremely rare & of course it's often diagnosed as other things in girls (especially back then) for all the reasons you can imagine that people who aren't cis men get delayed/incorrect diagnoses.

so my hc generally is that her father had to have been very aggressive to get her on loxapine; he might have even had to call in favors under the table & my thinking on this is that he likely wanted to go the nuclear option first since he's got a white rich man mentality that has no patience for exploring the care his daughter might actually need.

that said, i have to imagine that lottie was never encouraged to share her diagnosis (as bad as it sounds, i also have to wonder if she even knows in the teen timeline about her diagnosis, besides the fact she has to take these goddamn pills every morning). even if she does know, i would consider schizophrenia to be a pretty unspeakable condition to live with as a young girl in the 90s. i really don't think she would trust anyone (even if we hc nat as a confidant) with that information before the crash...

and also, i think one of the biggest tragedies about lottie's character is that she probably didn't feel confident to tell her teammates about her medication running out before it was too late-- like genuinely, putting myself in her shoes it makes sense. you wanna literally destroy people's perceptions (bc ableism, 90s, you know) of you for the rest of your life when there's a chance y'all might get rescued in a week? and the problem with this kind of thing is that the longer she's off the meds, her insight becomes diminished & the delusions kick in and then... oh what do you know?? she doesn't think she needed to be on them after all. <- this dynamic is why i don't fuck with people who say lottie "knows that she's sick" -- like it's just now how i understand this stuff to work. (sidebar: not an expert at all but i thought i was going to be a social worker before my current job & i've interacted directly with a few folks with schizophrenia tryna get on disability + their medical records, so that's kinda where my thinking comes from.)

but back to your question- because of all those reasons, i don't really think natalie (or anyone) on the team knows. when they call lottie "crazy," i don't think it's couched in any kind of understanding of mental illness but just sort of a teen "what the fuck is happening???" thing to say. what i do tend to think about with natalie is that she, more than anyone else on the team, has experience with hallucinogens. it's hard to say how much pre-crash but we get the sense that she's dabbling. so imo, i think she has a natural intuition about the possibility of tripping & also maybe a firmer understanding (even if she can't articulate it) about fucked mental health since she quite clearly has ptsd/flashback stuff going on herself (again, even if she doesn't have the words for it).

i've always said that the way nat approaches lottie and gently says "this is very real" at the end of episode 8 almost makes me think of someone talking you down from a bad trip?? maybe nat has experience doing that. i think she knows something is going on with lottie--possibly more than the other girls--but i don't know that it means she knows her diagnosis, you know?? i think she has empathy and insight with regard to lottie though, and i find it interesting that she, being the rationalist, is the one to reach out when lottie says she's staying.

this is all my two cents tho!

[pressplay-if]

I'm someone who does care a lot about the romance, I do admit (I've been quite obsessed with Zima and Angel, and I have written some long asks about them previously). Also, fun fact, I'm another gay guy who tortures Stevie. I just love angst too much.

That said, I also like this IF for many other reasons too. Mostly, I'm completely enamored by how unique and how appropriate yet so delightfully innovative is the way the story is framed. Is just so clever! Of course, having a celebrity centered IF being presented in an interview format. It just makes sense. Yet I would have never thought of it!

It's just so interesting from a writing perspective! How much it allows you to show or not to show certain things. How it allows for certain foreshadowing that couldn't be had otherwise. How it allows to show how our MC develops even when we, as a reader, don't entirely know how our MC will end up as yet.

And then not only the framing is interesting, but the content too! The different socioeconomic backgrounds and the different households, and how those differ as a support system. The way we met Zima, how that relationship developed. How the love, platonic or romantic, wasn't enough to maintain the connection without meaning sacrificing our MC's mental health. How the band rises to stardom, yet may lose something in the process...

I guess I never wrote much about those things before (and I haven't sent any asks in a while) because those are things I would have an easier time expressing verbally in a proper conversation. At the same time, I guess I also got used to how in our community we often ask more innocuous things, and we focus more on the ROs. In a way I understand why. After all, ROs are often one of the few things that are consistent for most readers (to some degree), in ways the narrative/MC aren't or cannot be wholly.

Then, as I do write too, I also understand is disappointing no one is discussing events or ideas you thought were interesting or worth talking about. Because when I write I often find myself giddy and excited about specific scenes, and the themes present in it, and how it correlates to the whole, or to a character. Yet I haven't had the chance to share it much with others. So I imagine I would be somewhat dejected if no one picked up on those things.

Whatever the case, I hope you have an easy time writing henceforth! And I also wish you luck with Twine. Because sometimes there is no greater horror than coding. I have my own IF (but I'm very early on the project, so I haven't shared anything yet), and I lose my mind trying to make things work. Once I had a very weird bug where I didn't have a back button, even though I didn't disable it. And I had no way to enable it. Only for the problem to correct itself days later.

Honestly, coding is witchcraft.

Anyhow, have a nice day!

Stevie @ the gay guys torturing Stevie: how can someone I love enjoy to see me suffer so (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥)

Thank you so much for writing so much, I really enjoyed all your observations. I guess I didn't mind the focus on the ROs in the beginning, but then I felt like I was doing a dating sim, and even though I don't want to be haughty and dating sims are cool, I like to think I'm doing something with a little more depth... Be that as it may. That issue is behind us now. I've bitched about it often enough.

I wish you the best of luck with your own project and please don't be intimidated out of sharing by everything going on in Tumblr when the time comes! Coding is indeed witchcraft, but we'll both get through it nonnie ;) it's worth it

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

I'm Not Sure How To Feel...

Dear Future Husband,

Wow. I almost wrote Deaf Uture Husband, which is either ironic or a Freudian slip of the fingers, because that's literally what this post is about.

I grew up with a disabled, lazy, mostly-absentee, so-many-other-problems, father.

And someone just sent me the resume for someone similar.

Now, the truth is, I don't know him all that well.

But I do know that he's deaf (aka disabled). And that (at least in the beginning, especially around the divorce) he has been kind of an absentee father. And that he was kind of pushed into working despite not really wanting to, so he basically works a minimum wage job.

I know all this because he's the ex of a family friend.

Yeah.

Also he's a lot younger than me, which on it's face isn't necessarily a problem, but it's the lack of maturity more than the "youngness" that bothers me.

The friend who sent the resume is one of the absolute sweetest people you could ever meet in your life.

We were in middle and high school together, though we didn't share too many classes and weren't in the same social circles, so at the time we were more acquaintances than friends.

But recently I signed up to bring them a meal after she gave birth and I've since been helping her out with the kids a few times a week and we've definitely moved from acquaintances to friends.

Since it's been less than 2 months though, we are still getting to know each other and I'm not sure if the resume was her idea or her husband's. I don't even really know if they actually know him or just read the resume and thought it sounded good for me. But she had asked me if the last name had ever come across my desk before and I just thought to myself "it caaaan't be who I think it is...." so I told her to feel free to send it over, because the best case scenario is that it's someone I've never heard of and the worst case scenario is I just say no thank you.

I considered how to word it when I saw that it was exactly who I thought it was, and ended up just telling her how funny it was that I actually did know who he was and that it was just not shayich for a bunch of reasons, but I'd keep him in mind for others.

Diplomatic, closed the subject, and now we can move on.

Or can we....?

Because this is the second guy suggested to me this year who is a little off.

And I know that kind of comes with the territory of being an "older single".

And I know that people think that I'm the sweetest person and therefore would entertain the idea of these guys because I come across as a nonjudgemental person, the exact type these guys would need to marry.

But at the same time, I'd like to think people deem me worthy of at least a 6, you know?

Neither of these guys are ugly, per se, but they're just ambitionless.

And I know, look who's talking, right? But the truth is, I do have ambitions, I just have no way to make them happen because I don't have the mazal for it.

These guys could have all the mazal in the world, but they just kind of couldn't care less, I guess.

They kind of lack personality.

And I know I have friends who are all personality who married very mild guys, but I feel like I need someone who I can have a conversation with. Someone I can be a bit combative with (in a healthy way). Someone with thoughts and ideas and who wants to do things.

Does this mean I just don't come off as my authentic self to the people who are trying to set me up? (Not that I really think I'm ready for marriage yet, but since Hashem works in mysterious ways, I don't just shoot down whatever ideas are floated my way)

The first guy who was suggested to me this year I did actually go out with. Since I was away for the summer and he was staying like an hour and a half away from where I was staying, he took a bus to come meet me, which I totally didn't expect to happen.

He was nice enough, but awkward and probably on the spectrum. I did most of the talking and it was like pulling teeth to get him to open up about most things, so I kept it light and did mostly ice breaker type conversation while we walked around a park a little bit. Then I drove him to catch his bus and that was kind of it.

The girl who wanted us to go out was an old family friend I hadn't seen in at least 15 years, but I ran into her at a simcha and she had her mom (who used to be a shadchan) do the shadchan thing.

Just based on his resume, I had a feeling it wasn't going to work out because hashkafically we were in two different places, but I figured if he was up to meet, then the least I could do was give him an hour or two of my time, because maybe I'd know someone who is right for him.

The friend later told me that he never dates because he's too shy and she'd been trying to get him to go out for several years and I was the first person he'd said yes to. She tried to get me to go on another date with him, but like I said, hashkafically we were just on two different pages though if he's interested in talking tachlis, I'll go out again, but he kind of agreed because he didn't want a second date either. (She kind of figured if she could get me to say yes then maybe he would too. I think she's just trying to get him out of his little rut, though I don't know if he wants to leave it, to be honest...)

For example, I'm looking for someone for whom attending minyan is important, whereas he prefers to daven by himself, if at all.

And I'm looking for someone who has a regular learning seder multiple days a week, at the very least over the phone if they're unable to connect in person, and he learns about once a week, if at all.

I want a Shabbos table that revolves around Torah, sefarim, and zemiros. And he... I guess doesn't?

In general I'm just looking for someone more serious about and more settled in their yiddishkeit and I didn't get that impression of him in the resume or in person (and then the shadchan confirmed those impressions too).

And as for this second guy I was just suggested... I get the feeling it's the same type of situation. I've met him several times and he just reminds me so much of my father in terms of his apathy towards yiddishkeit and being a father.

That's not at all what I'm looking for.

And I know this friend who sent the resume for this second guy sees the world through such positive, beautiful glasses, but I can't help thinking that it's kind of offensive people think that little of me.

Again, maybe that's not at all what she was thinking. Maybe she doesn't actually know him and was just passing along the resume for someone who on paper looks great. I mean, the resume looks decent. The blurb is short and hits all the important positive points, so from the outside it is similar to what I'm looking for.

But knowing the person and the way things went down with the divorce and everything definitely changes the whole perspective. His ex was literally in tears on multiple occasions that he seemed so disinterested in his role as a father and just showing up and being present when the kids wanted him.

So I guess at this point I'm just hoping she doesn't actually know him and was just passing along the resume because it looks decent.

Either way, dear future husband, he is not you. Neither of them are. I can say that with confidence.

-LivelyHeart

[thetepes]

I'm going to skip over the cute egg moments of childhood and say I've always felt wrong and I've always been masculine. I just am. When I was adopted my mom specifically stated she wanted a "little china doll" to dress up and do mommy daughter things with. What she got was a big, hairy, mentally ill Eastern European who sobbed when she tried to dress me in her handsewn pastel dresses and who's pretty blonde ringlets turned brown around 9. I've had to take estrogen since I was a kid. I've never fit physically what a girl is by what everyone told me they are. Especially my mom.

She fought and fought and physically wrestled me at a few points to make me wear skirts and makeup and do my hair. It didn't feel right. It felt bad, but over time I learned to just fucking do it because it made my mom happy and my life easier. Waxing stops hurting. The hair dye stops burning. The leg cramps can be massaged out, but you can't be muscular. Just thin. Dainty. Pretty. Hairless. Don't tan, you're already too dark. Pale. Use this lotion to be softer, paler, smell pretty. Use this body spray. Use this glorified cheese grater on your feet so they're not rough.

My mental health went to hell around 14 and I ran away after graduating early due to bullying and how bad my home life was getting. I got lucky and found a group of people who took me in, loved me, took care of me. They convinced me to go to college and I did. At college I fell into the hands of some very bad people.

At the time I was so sure they were my friends. This group of women who just wanted to help me. They were lgbt+ and they were progressive leftists who said all the right things. I was 16 and I didn't know I was being groomed. I didn't know that what those women were doing to me was the same fucking thing my dad had been doing and what I ran away from because they had me so convinced that it was good. It was different.

They were helping me come to terms with what he'd done to me. Showing me porn. Touching me and worse. Telling me shit that wakes me up out of a dead sleep still. Coaxing me into this soft meek gentle thing that they kept like a lap dog. Exposure therapy they called it. Men were evil. I wasn't a boy, I was a girl. I was a good girl. I wore pink and lace and my collar was so cute and my nails were perfectly done and I had all these fucking adults doing things to me no adult should be doing to a child. I was addicted to it. I'd have done anything they told me to just to not lose the attention and love.

It wasn't until they lied about one of their boyfriends sexually assaulting them that I realized something wasn't right. They outed him as bi and lied about so much shit he'd never done and I knew because I'd been there. I realized they were liars and they really enjoyed lying and causing this guy pain. Then I realized it wasn't just him, it was all men. Then I realized I'm men and I felt like a fucking clown. I felt so stupid and gross in that dress with the makeup and everything else. How could I have let them do this to me? I was some terfs blow up doll.

I went to the school faculty, told them the girls were lying, gave my first hand account and all the chatroom receipts of them talking about what they were doing, and transferred out to another school in another state that was willing to pick up my credits.

I had so much damage to undo. I worked so fucking hard in therapy. I still blame myself. I'm never going to get over what they did to me. At the time it was just surviving the shame of it and I did. I stuffed down all my emotions about it and my gender until the last five years. Life slowed down and it felt safe to think about beyond just hating myself and my body.

It was hard to parse through what was that old misery about the body I had and what was the new because of the accident. Sometimes I still can't tell if I hate something because I'm disabled or because of the dysphoria or even because I'm fat. It feels like who I should have been is hidden under layers of wax and I'm peeling at them with a spoon and just not making a dent. I'm stuck with who I am. I can kind of see them under there. Just enough to be mad about it.

I called myself nonbinary at first and kept it to myself then finally I came out as a trans man socially and really sank my fingers back into being LGBT+

I have never felt more fucking policed by people who had no damn business in my life. All that shit that didn't matter when I was enby was suddenly a big fucking issue. What you shaved your face? What you can't bind? What you aren't doing your voice training? What you aren't on testosterone? What you aren't doing this or that or whatever the fuck. It suddenly became this nightmarish passing game where if you weren't putting your whole pussy in that blender then you weren't a real trans man.

And I did it. I reached a point where you couldn't fucking tell I was a woman once when I spoke. Crushed my tits until they were blue. Cut my precious hair. Even planned on going through with surgeries that scared the living shit out of me and results of weren't at all what I wanted just so I could pass that much more and maybe feel just a little bit better in my skin. I took medication that was dangerous because of my hormone disorder to try to be a good trans person who did it right.

I was still struggling with my grooming though and undoing all that evil and no one gave a fuck because I triggered them by just existing. God forbid I speak about it even in spaces where they dumped oceans of trauma because mine was triggering and bad.

And the culture? Repelled me. Those same fucking women that abused me were suddenly all around me in all shapes and sizes and getting praised for everything they did to me. The same art that had been used to get me comfortable wearing lolita pink bullshit and collars was being mainstreamed. The uwu baby speak I'd been trained to speak in to be cute for my abusers was mainstreamed. I was surrounded on all sides by orientalism, bio essentialism, and this tits deep hatred of men. Of masculinity.

You can't be a man and be safe to these people. "You're going to turn out just like your dad" "Why would you want to be a man after what they did to you" "All men are abusers" "All men are oppressors" "So when are you going to start raping" Treating me like I was some kind of threat when they found out I'm not fucking white then doubling down when they found out I was a man. Suddenly I was aggressive and harsh and scary when I had not even slightly changed my personality from when I was enby and they loved me.

Worse than all of that though was the pity. They pitied me for being a man, wanting to be a man, trying to be a man and it made me sick. I didn't want their fucking pity. They sowed these seeds of doubt in the post petty passive aggressive ways. Telling you it's ok if you dont pass then praising others when they do right in front of you and talking about gender euphoria and how good it all feels when you do while you're left sitting there feeling like some kind of disgusting freak of nature.

I watched people glorify this objectified take on gender and sexuality until I just couldn't anymore and I left all those rancid fucking spaces and said "I'm not a man. I'm done." and just started laughing. That's all you can do. I hit 30 and realized this is all fucking bullshit. Why am I obsessively checking myself for someone else's standard of a man? I don't need to be a man to exist.

And saying that unleashed a very special hell. Did someone hurt you? Did someone talk you into doing this? Did someone talk you out of doing this? You can tell us. You know you can just be a girl if you want to! I'm sorry that society is preventing you from realizing who you are. It gets better, I promise. Just keep trying.

Or you were never really trans.

Noooo, never mind I've never felt like a girl. Never mind all that hate I have for myself physically. Never mind my medical issues. I'm not doing enough so I was never trans. It can't be the entire community is full of toxicity, ablism, racism, sex pests, and tribalism. You would all gleefully accept a pedophile as long as they came with some kind of label then praise Kendrick at the Superbowl for calling Drake one in front of thousands. Let someone bang on a keyboard for a minute and you'll become a debate rapist when it comes out they jacked off in calls with unknowing minors or god forbid ones they damn well knew as long as they have a deadname.

So, yeah. Sure. I'm a failure. I failed to be a girl. I failed to be a woman. I failed to be a man. I failed to be trans. I failed to be cis. Detransitioning fixed as much as transitioning did. Not a damn thing. What actually helped was not obsessively checking myself and being in a space where gender is treated like an eating disorder. I'm worlds less dysphoric outside of the community because I'm not being inundated with what is and isn't trans. What's helped is therapy. What's helped is genuine friendship that isn't built on what I am, but who I am. What's helped is having a job I'm damn fucking good at and hobbies I enjoy. What's helped is turning 30 and realizing I'm done living for other people and by their standards. It's my time now.

I'm a happy failure.

[artist-issues]

You're my new favorite blog! You have no idea how I wish I could peck inside your brain like a chicken. 😭😂😂 I am a Catholic and a recovering agnostic. I struggle with letting go of my old way of life and philosophy constantly, I have been struggling with it since the day I decided to revert - that was back in 2017. (I think you would like to know my journey back to the Faith started after watching HBO's The Young Pope! 👌🏼) At this point I don't know if I'll ever be the person the Lord wants me to be, oh well, I'll die trying and I know that will mean something.

I just know I can't go back to being a non-believer, because as Carl Young said, now I don't just believe, I know. The irony is my struggle to believe in something I know to be objectively the Truth.

I have a question for you though, actually I hope for some advice from you. How do I reconcile with the reality that I haven't become who I dreamed to become (like career wise), but now that a new career has been shoved upon me (a career my parents wanted for me - and they valued safety and stability over "following my dreams" I suppose)? ...which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because it is an extremely noble profession and it pays quite well.

The thing is, as much as I try to accept my new career, I keep telling myself and to others that I'm doing this for my parents and not because I want to be here. I feel terrible about it. But, again, it's not like I am unfulfilled (I am unhappy though, but that comes with the work culture/environment, I feel like I am surrounded by 40+ year old teenagers); as a matter of fact, I do think I know - objectively - in my heart that this is exactly where the Lord wants me to be? But I keep fighting against it, keep struggling against this sense of vocational calling that I'm feeling towards my new job, instead I desperately wanna give into my want to go "live the life I want." Like throw this all away, get new training and start all over with the career I wanted all those years ago.

I want to be better, to be sacrificial like Christ on the Cross. I've always known I had a little depression (comes with my disability from a young age and this whole dream thing); I have been suicidal over this, I actually used to joke with myself that I'd kill myself if I don't achieve my professional goals by the time I turned 25. I will turn 30 this September and even though I haven't been literally dead, I feel like I've been in a vegetative state - mentally - ever since the day I turned 25. I hope that makes sense.

I started seeing a therapist 2 weeks ago since my mental health started affecting my new job - she did say I have depression and is trying to help me but I just don't know if I want to be helped at all, because I am unable to do the exercises she tells me (like create a routine, exercise well, write down good thoughts, etc.) I feel like I'm failing myself, my parents and, most importantly, my Heavenly Father.

I apologise if this is nonsensical, I apologise for dumping all of this on you - random stranger on the internet - but idk I felt like maybe you'd have something wise to tell me to knock some sense into me (without a bump to prove it hehe).

Thank you and God bless! 🥰

You’re very kind, and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to share all this with me! I really never have anything good of my own to say, or any wisdom to offer, except what I “steal” from God…and I guess what I mean is, if I ever say anything helpful or good or true, I’m just the messenger. I didn’t come up with it. On my own I have zero wisdom or good things to offer.

Anyway, I was surprised reading this because I have gone through (been going through) a similar sort of mindset. I went to school for the career I dreamed about (still dream about) and I worked hard and I wanted it more than anybody around me (very Mike Wasowski in MU of me) and it hasn’t happened the way I planned, or in my timetable.

I mean, in all humility: I work with a studio making a tv show, but it hasn’t got off the ground yet, and I work for a company that writes movie reviews, but neither of those things pay my bills. I have a third job, working with therapists, that’s nothing like what I always wanted to do. That’s my “career,” but it’s not the career I’m passionate about and working toward. And I wonder if I’ll ever do anything “major” in the line of work I love and went to school for. And when I do, I have gotten into some really dark mental places.

Forgive me for not using the words “depression” or “suicidal.” I hate using those words because they’re overused and romanticized and flooding the culture. But more importantly I hate using them because the only thing I identify with is Christ, not any mental struggle I try to slither back into, like a snake trying to put back on old skin. I’m not my overthinking—I’m not my depression—I’m not my suicidal thoughts or emotions—I am one with Christ. Those are things inside me that are defeated and dead—the teeth have been knocked out of them. They just gum me from time to time. So I want you to know I empathize with you, but that’s my point and that’s how I want to answer you:

The only thing about you that really matters is Christ.

Who He says you are, what He has done and how He lived, which is applied to you because He said it is, by grace alone, through faith alone. No matter how you feel.

And I say that to you, as the answer, because I think you and I focus too much on what could be and what “should be” as if God has a set path for us, and if we don’t figure out what it is and walk it, we’ll have a less-fulfilling life. “If I stay at my therapy job and just work with teenagers and write on my blog for the rest of my life, I’ll be fine, but I won’t be as good as I could be.” Or for you. “If I stay in this career I’m in, the one my parents backed me into, I’ll make it, I’ll be fine, but I’ll never be as happy as I want to be.” We’re both thinking, every once in a while, “This is career is what God wants for me, and all my misery is coming from not submitting to it, and if I could just wrestle my contentment into place and give up the thing I want, and submit to what God wants, I’d be fulfilled.”

But how do we know any of those thoughts are true? How do we know God wants us in these boring old careers we wouldn’t have chosen—didn’t choose? Or, how do we know these boring old careers are what we’re stuck in because we didn’t take the plunge and work harder for our “dreams,” which were what He really wanted us to do? How do we know either of those things?

We don’t. We don’t get to know. That’s the point.

Because that’s not how God works. Not from what I can tell in the Bible.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”. Colossians 3:17.

Whatever you do. Not “the one specific thing you figure out He wants you to do.”

My mom described it to me once when I was in a really dark place trying to figure out what He wanted me to do, paralyzed with indecision, afraid He wanted me to do something I just didn’t want to do, like this: “God doesn’t hold out one flower and say, ‘this is the one I want you to have, so you can either take it or take something worse.’ God makes a field of flowers, and He says, ‘Which one do you want? Pick one, and do it with excellence for Me.’ Then just trust Him to make it good.”

It sounds like you’re in a career, but you are wrestling with whether or not to pick it, now that you have some autonomy as an adult, or to pick starting over. Well. Pick one. Just pick one. And trust God to take care of you. Trusting God looks like thinking it through with excellence, then making the decision—and making the decision means letting go of worrying about the thing you didn’t pick. “Take every thought captive in obedience to Christ.” Once you make a choice, make it all the way, and don’t let your mind wander anymore to “what if this blows up in my face? What if I should’ve stayed back there at the crossroads, or gone down the other path?” It’s going to be hard and God is going to take care of you, no matter what you pick. So don’t let your mind go to those places where you worry; acknowledge the worry, and every time, ask God to help you remember that He’s got you.

Because here’s the point, here’s the thing: He does have you. Because ultimately, your career really doesn’t matter. It doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Neither does your dream. Not ultimately. And now I’ll say “our” because I need to hear it too. Our dreams and careers are not the point of us, and our dreams and careers are not what God means when He says “I’ll take care of you.”

What He means is, “I’ve already taken care of you.” Because the most important thing isn’t our job or our dream. The most important thing is, we’ve been rescued out of eternally being trapped in our broken desires, and now we get to live for Christ, Who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. That’s the major. And that truth is where our fulfillment is supposed to come from, what our lives are meant for, our purpose. As long as we pick one, and do it with excellence to make the name of Jesus famous, with that goal in mind, we’ll be emotionally fulfilled. We’ll be satisfied. Because that’s the goal. Not making movies, or whatever it is you want to do. Not having secure means of living. Just…living our lives to make who Jesus is famous. We can do that wherever.

So then the choice? It becomes a minor, not a major, and the pressure of “will I be happy?” is off, because happiness isn’t found in that stuff. And whenever I forget, and start looking for happiness in my dreams, goals, career, that’s when it all starts to feel dark and stressful and hard and crushing. Because it was never meant to give me happiness or fulfillment—that’s a need only Christ can fulfill.

Don’t misunderstand me. He cares what you do. He cared about every decision you make, and He does have a plan. But that’s going to happen anyway. So just pray, consider which option is a) wise to go for and takes care of the responsibilities God has entrusted you with, b) which option you genuinely want, when your wants are not influenced by fears, and then c) step out and do it in faith. And do it with the mindset of, “I’m doing this, and I’m not thinking about the alternative if I can help it, and I’m also not putting all my happiness-eggs in this basket, because even if it crashes and burns, hey, I’m still one with Christ and I can still make Him famous no matter what road my career goes down.”

I hope this helps. It’s a subject I’m hamster-wheeling around in my mind right now a lot—but when I just fix my eyes on Christ and think about how the most important things, the things that give real joy and happiness, are already and forever taken care of and I can’t mess them up—then can get off the hamster wheel and enjoy the life He’s given me, right now, today, without worrying about the future.