wormisconfused

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Suffering craving ice cream from a specific shop and a burrito from the shop in front of it

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Me: man, our legs cure do hurt

Brain: why aren't we using our Icy hot?

Me: because we have one patch left

Brain: no the roll on one

Me: .. what?

Brain: we got roll on Icy hot

Me: ... I forgot

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no options for people who don't have periods, sorry, just wait.

if you had periods in the past but no longer have them for whatever reason, you can vote too, on what the effect on your life used to be.

TERFS FUCK OFF I LOVE TRANS PEOPLE AND VOTING IN THIS POLL MEANS YOU LOVE TRANS PEOPLE TOO 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

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i've said it already probably but ppl who don't use mobility aids. especially doctors. stop trying to get rid of other ppls mobility aid. stop making that a priority. stop it with the "we gotta get you off that [mobility aid]" "you shouldn't need to be using a [mobility aid]" "let's focus on getting you to where you don't need [mobility aid]" "a [mobility aid]? but have you tried [herb]/[medicine]/ [exercise]/[facebook hack]/[pseudoscience]/[meditation] instead?" "but you look old/cringe/weak/sick". shut up

i don't know why so many of y'all think my end goal is to stop using the thing that helps me. and i KNOW most of y'all wear glasses or contacts but you're not running around trying to find the solution to make you stop needing them. so quit doing it with every other aid just because it reminds you of old or sick people.

especially bc most of y'all don't want to have that reaction when it comes to chronic pain, fatigue or discomfort. i say "my joints hurt" you say "oh well :/". i say "i feel lightheaded all the time" you say "just push through it". i say "my stomach is at least a 7/10 on the pain scale every day" you say "are you sure it's actually that bad? maybe you're exaggerating".

but as soon as i pull out a cane, or a shower chair, or a spinny chair for when im cooking in the kitchen, and i say "finally, im getting really good help!" . that's when you care. and all you want to do is take that away as soon as possible.

you just don't want to fucking see disabled ppl be disabled.

you don't want to have to look at it. you don't want to have to listen to it. you don't want to have to be reminded of it.

but too fucking bad !! i don't care !! im naming and decorating my canes !! they will be the loudest part of my outfits !! the same will go for a rollator if i'll still need one in the future !! i'm going to talk about how i'm disabled regardless of if anyone else can hear me !! because i am !! why should i hide just because YOU don't like it !! close your eyes !!!!!!

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if you hate some type of animal because it “serves no purpose” or “doesn’t have the same emotional/mental capacity as humans/dogs/cats” i need you to set yourself on fire for me ok

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That sensory ick when you are biting into soft food and bit into something hard

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Talking online anonymously about stuff is so wild sometimes because I'm talking to you about food, specifically Spanish food and it somehow flies past your head that you are talking to a Spanish person. And then drop a Spanish recipe then are confused when I tell you Ik how to cook it

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Anyone: how are you-

Me: *whose started writing "you are loved on the wall"* ...

Me: im fine

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Sometimes I forget that when I was younger I just stopped crying in front of people and kept it to myself because I wouldn't get comfort or the car I wanted when I did cry

So when I talk about how a cry baby I was growing up, I always get weird looks and then I'm like "oh yeah". I definitely cried a lot growing up, but I was never with the people I should have cried to

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I hate when people say shit like "why didn't you tell me"

Why would I? Especially when you've given me no reason to tell you shit, whether it's if I need a ride or just to talk to you. I've busted my ass for people over and over again only to be shut down when I ask for something.l

And it happens time and time again, whenever I need something, I'm always let down but when I take shit into my own a hands and do something about it, then I'm the bad guy for not asking sooner WHEN PEOPLE WOULDN'T HELP IN THE FIRST PLACE

On top of that! If I do receive help, it's always with a complaint on helping me. Which, hello, DONT DO THAT. If you don't want to help me

Don't. Help. Me.

I don't give two shits if you think I'm making you look bad by not asking you for help, you are making me feel horrible every time I ask. Why would I ask at this point when I'm just going to receive back lash

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My late 40s to early 50s boss just asked what’s wrong with 18-25 year olds these days

And as a 21 year old all I could think was

The world has been on fire since we were born and we’ve been told the adults are putting it out and now we’re old enough to realize they’ve been pouring kerosene on the flames instead of water.

Before my first birthday, 9/11 happened and the world wouldn’t let us forget it. When I was 6 years old, on September 11th, my teacher sat us down in front of a tv and showed us footage of 9/11 and then told us we weren’t allowed to cry. She said that it was real and those were real people jumping from the building because jumping was a faster death than burning.

When I was 7 years old, the economy collapsed and my family went from lower middle class to poverty, we went from healthy home cooked meals every night to mac and cheese and beans for weeks in a row. We started skipping holidays because mom and dad couldn’t keep the lights on and buy us new toys. We started wearing clothes and shoes until they fell apart.

When I was 11 years old, Sandy Hook was attacked by a grown man with a gun and 26 children and teachers were brutally murdered. My teachers never looked at us the same and I haven’t felt safe in a school since. After that, once a month we would have active shooter drills and we were taught to fight and cause as much damage as possible if an armed man entered our classroom because it gave other classes a few extra seconds to escape, it gave our siblings a few extra breaths of safety. We were taught to cover ourselves in other students blood and play dead if we weren’t hit, we were taught that we weren’t safe and we wouldn’t be safe as long as we were in school.

When I was 15 years old, my high school art teacher locked us in the classroom and told us if we heard gunshots we should line the desks up lengthwise so that they reached the other wall because that would be harder to break through than a barricade. She told us that she knew about the threats and she wouldn’t judge any of us that wanted to leave. She told us to get our siblings and stay in the buildings as long as possible, to duck in between the cars so we couldn’t be seen until we got to ours. She told us about the trail behind the auto shop that was lined with trees and led off campus. I got my brother and his friends and we left, we spent the day sitting on the floor in my living room waiting for a phone call that the people we left behind were dying.

Two weeks later, one of my friends dragged me out of a football game and forced me to go home with him. He grabbed my brothers and my best friend and forced the six of us into a two seater car before he would tell us anything. His mom worked for the school board and had told him the police found an active bomb under the bleachers in the student section, and they weren’t informing anyone because they didn’t want to incite panic.

When I was 16 years old, ISIS set off a bomb at a pop concert in Britain and killed 22 people, injuring at least 100 more. The next day at school, our teachers went over how to stay safe if we ever experienced something like that. They told us the most important thing to remember was to not remove any shrapnel because it could be keeping us from bleeding out, they said it was more important to get yourself out safely before you worried about anyone else.

When I was 18 years old, my teachers stopped teaching and put the news up on the projector and we watched as the Notre-Dame burned. The boy I had sat next to since second grade spent the entire day trying to call his sister who was studying abroad in Paris, I watched this kid I had never even seen frown fall apart in English because she wouldn’t pick up the phone. We didn’t know it at the time, but she was okay.

Six months later, my history teacher put the news on the projector again for another fire. This time, we watched as an entire continent burned for three months. We watched their sky turned orange from the smoke and their wildlife drowned in pools because they were trying to escape the heat.

When I was 19 years old, the whole world shut down because of a global pandemic. I didn’t meet a single new person for eight months, despite the fact that I had just moved across the country. I watched as people didn’t wear masks and spread it to everyone around them, I was so scared when I went back to my room every night because my roommate was immunocompromised and I was terrified I would give her Covid and kill her.

Just two months later, I watched a video of a black man being murdered by police officers. I watched the world around me explode after George Floyd’s death, people destroying businesses and police stations. I watched some of my friends realize police officers didn’t exist to keep them safe, they existed to keep the people in power in power. I learned that some of the people I had grown up with would rather watch a black man die than admit that maybe, maybe, the system was broken.

When I was 20 years old, I went to the mall with a friend to buy a birthday present and I was pulled to the ground by a twelve-year-old girl after gunshots went off in the mall. I held this child’s hands as she cried for two hours until we were evacuated by police, and then I waited with her outside and helped her look for her mom. I gave her my phone to call her mom and I watched as she called the number over and over and never got a reply. I waited with her until a police officer took her to the station to try to find out more information about the girl’s mom, I hugged this girl I had never seen before and I wished her the best. I never found out what happened to her or her mom, it keeps me up at night sometimes worrying that this little girl was orphaned.

When I was 21 years old, I started working at a daycare and exactly a week later, Uvalde happened and I found myself crying because my students are the same age those kids were. When they came in after school the next day, one of them had asked me if I had heard about Uvalde and I told her I had, I asked her if she was scared of going to school because of it. Her reply broke my heart. “We practice for it every week so that when it happens to us, we know what to do. I’m just worried that the shooter is going to start in my baby sister’s classroom and not mine.” I listened as other students with younger siblings agreed with her, one of them saying “I would take fifty bullets, if I had to to keep my little brother safe.”

Early this year, I watched Russia launched bombs into Ukraine, blowing up churches and schools and hospitals and apartment buildings. I watched as the estimated death count rose from the hundreds to the thousands to the tens of thousands. I watched men send their wives and children to bordering countries for refuge while they stayed behind to fight, knowing they would probably never see each other again.

Just four months ago, I watched as my right to medical privacy got taken away. I watched my old roommate fall apart because she was denied the right to have her dead fetus removed from her body for almost two days, I worried every time I looked away from her that the next time I saw her would be in a casket. I watched as the women around me realized the military-grade weapons that had torn children in classrooms apart were protected by the government but our bodies weren’t.

There is nothing “wrong” with my generation, we’ve experienced all these things as children and were expected to respond with patriotism for a country that continuously sacrificed their children for the “right” to military-grade weapons, that took away my freedom of choice. We are tired, we were told the world was a wonderful place then shown, at every step, how the world was a place of destruction and pain. And we are angry. We are angry because no one but us seems to be trying to fix anything. And we are scared. We are scared because our children, our nieces and nephews, our cousins and our friends children are growing up in a world that won’t protect them.

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You know that moment where your just sitting there enjoying yourself and then someone you don't like interrupts you to put in their opinion?

And then it ruins your mood so bad you don't want to continue what you were enjoying before

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I have a second degree burn on my hand right now and it's throwing me through a loop because I can't feel it at all. Like I thought it was just a small red mark on my hand because sometimes my skin gets irritated, but then it started blistering and I still can't feel it. At most my hand feels slightly warmer then usual

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My brain decided to be cruel last night and have me fall in love with someone knowing I'll never experience it in real life upon awakening.

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I am sick and the most fucked up part about it is that I'm going to have to wash my bed sheets AGAIN

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I feel like there's a difference in care between we and urgent care. You go to urgent care because your sick or broke a bone and they sit you down and you and run you through the procedures, fix you up and you leave. You go to the ER, they ask why you're there then do everything in their power to prove theirs nothing wrong with you