I don't even know

I'm just awkwardly here... they/them

[evil-dog-girl]

Why do you need to call me out like that :(

[constorfus]

Me: *doesnt connect emotionally or socially with my peers*

Adults: 😊🙏😊 Look at you!! 😊🙏😊🙏🙏 you’re so mature for your age 😊😊😊🙏🙏 Such an old soul!!! 😊🙏😊🙏😊😀😀O h m y g o o d n e s s 😀😊🙏 a truly G I F T E D child 😄😄🙏🙏😊🙏🙏

[likeanaccident]

Me, now an adult: *has no idea how to navigate social relationships which are needed for things like jobs* Older adults: Why are you so immature?

[westieronto]

How most people with invisible illnesses are treated by health care “professionals”

[thefemcritique]

The Golden Girls didn’t fuck around

[pardonmewhileipanic]

pls watch

honestly i really appreciated this scene when I first saw it bc it took me like two years to get a diagnosis for what’s wrong with me

[mttheww]

Dorothy:  Dr. Budd?

Dr. Budd:  Yes?

Dorothy:  You probably don’t remember me, but you told me I wasn’t sick.  Do you remember?  You told me I was just getting old.

Dr. Budd:  I’m sorry, I really don’t–

Dorothy:  Remember.  Maybe you’re getting old.  That’s a little joke.  Well, I tell you, Dr. Budd, I really am sick.  I have chronic fatigue syndrome.  That is a real illness.  You can check with the Center for Disease Control.

Dr. Budd:  Huh.  Well, I’m sorry about that.

Dorothy:  Well, I’m glad!  At least I know I have something.

Dr. Budd:  I’m sure.  Well, nice seeing you.

Dorothy:  Not so fast.  There are some things I have to say.  There are a lot of things that I have to say.  Words can’t express what I have to say.  [tearing up]  What I went through, what you put me through—I can’t do this in a restaurant.

Dr. Budd:  Good!

Dorothy:  But I will!

Dr. Budd’s date:  Louis, who is this person?

Dr. Budd:  Look, Miss–

Dorothy:  Sit.  I sat for you long enough.  Dr. Budd, I came to you sick—sick and scared—and you dismissed me.  You didn’t have the answer, and instead of saying “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” you made me feel crazy, like I had made it all up.  You dismissed me!  You made me feel like a child, a fool, a neurotic who was wasting your precious time.  Is that your caring profession?  Is that healing?  No one deserves that kind of treatment, Dr. Budd, no one.  I suspect had I been a man, I might have been taken a bit more seriously, and not told to go to a hairdresser.

Dr. Budd:  Look, I am not going to sit here anymore–

Dr. Budd’s date:  Shut up, Louis.

Dorothy:  I don’t know where you doctors lose your humanity, but you lose it.  You know, if all of you, at the beginning of your careers, could get very sick and very scared for a while, you’d probably learn more from that than anything else.  You’d better start listening to your patients.  They need to be heard.  They need caring.  They need compassion.  They need attending to.  You know, someday, Dr. Budd, you’re gonna be on the other side of the table, and as angry as I am, and as angry as I always will be, I still wish you a better doctor than you were to me.

[jennytrout]

Reblogging for any of my mutuals who’ve ever dealt with Dr. Budd.

[positivity-in-pain]

exactly.

[randomslasher]

YES.

I remember lying in a hospital bed the first time I hurt my back badly, in tears, waiting for my MRI slides to come back, and saying to my dad, “But what if they don’t find anything?” I was only 20, but I already understood something fundamental about our system: it is ready, willing, and primed to disbelieve people who say they hurt or feel wrong. It wasn’t like those TV shows where the doctors vowed to get to the bottom of whatever obscure disease or ailment was causing so much pain and hurt; it was “we already hold you under the highest suspicion for daring to be young and in pain, and we’re going to assume you’re full of shit until there is indisputable evidence to the contrary, but we are not going to go out of our way to find that evidence because your insurance will only cover the most basic of tests, so your choices are continue to suffer or shoulder the crippling medical expense of the extra tests yourself.” 

When the surgeon came in and gave me his speech about having assumed there was a mix-up in the slides because there was “no way” a back as bad on film as mine belonged to someone my age, I was terrified, sure, but I was also relieved, because ten minutes prior to that, the nurses had brought in a PCA morphine pump. Prior to that, the on-call doctor assigned to my case had refused to give me anything for pain, condemning me (without even seeing me) on the grounds of my youth and my complaint, even though my primary doctor had direct-admitted me for the express purpose of pain control. When they rolled that pump in, the only thing they said was, “We got your MRI slides. They’ve referred you to the surgeon. He’ll be in shortly.” 

I didn’t know what was wrong, but I knew something had to be. They’d found something. Which, no, wasn’t good, but it meant 1) I was finally, finally getting pain relief, and 2) they would start taking me seriously and work to figure out what was wrong.

No, I don’t want to have chronic back pain. No, it hasn’t been fun, or exciting, or made me feel “special” to be disabled. Mostly it sucks that I can’t do the things I want to do. 

But what sucks worse, and what happens to so many people in chronic pain and illness, is the cause of their pain and illness isn’t immediately obvious, so they’re told they’re imagining it. They’re told it’s all in their heads, because the “tests are normal.” It gets to the point where you start to question your own sanity. You start to disbelieve the signs of your own body. You start to wonder if maybe they’re right, and you ARE just imagining it, even when you’re doubled over in pain, weeping and gasping because it hurts so much and you just want to know why. 

So yeah. Fuck this idea of “we want to be sick.” We don’t want to be sick; we are sick and we want to know why and what to do about it.

[tanishasoldaccount]

It’s literally like if your house is flooding, so you call a plumber, and they come to your house, see all the flooding and all the damage the water is doing to your house, but when they check all the pipes - all the pipes are fine. There are no leaks anywhere.

So even though there’s water everywhere and it’s getting in your way of living your life, doing permanent damage to your house - there’s no broken or damaged pipes. So hey. The plumber can’t help you. Sorry.

Try mopping it up.

[mr-dalliard-ive-gone-peculiar]

[piratedykes]

It will forever haunt me that I cannot share this joke with everyone I meet

[motive11331]

[anxietyproblem]

[shoeboxgoblin]

Rejection sensitive dysphoria is wild. Someone will be like "hey just so you know the thing you did was a little bit loud/uncomfortable/insensitive but it's ok I know you didn't mean it" and my brain will instantly translate "you should be shot"

[ajani]

The fun other side of this too is when you are afraid of making other people feel that way so you just let shit go 90% of the time even when it's reasonable and valid to make a comment/critique/etc

[everything-written-down]

[socialistwaluigi-deactivated202]

if you’re tired of being fucked over by mental health services clap your hands

[anxietyproblem]

[lakemichiganbaby-deactivated202]

good friendships are honestly the most healing and light things in the entire world

[anxietyproblem]

[oak23]

We forgot about it

[dickheaddutch]

[valilihapiirakka]

I once signed up to participate in a study on how depression affects memory, forgot I was meant to go do it, and when I emailed to apologise to the PhD student running it she basically told me that a) she was very used to this happening and b) the weird irony of her theories’ correctness making it very difficult to arrange proving them had by now gone from infuriating to hysterical

[plain-flavoured-english]

I went to the Grand Canyon when I was depressed and I literally forgot the whole thing. Like, the only reason I even know I was there is that I have photographs of myself standing in front of the Grand Canyon with dead eyes but i have absolutely no memory of it

People talk about depression like it’s just being sad all the time but straight up your brain stops working and sadness is just one of the many, many consequences of that

[dangerousyako]

There’s a solid chunk between 2012 and 2016 where i barely remember anything except a few events.

[studentlifeproblems]

[anxietyproblem]

[ittybittytatertot]

So it’s very late but I want to share the best piece of wisdom my mother has ever offered me.

One time, when I was having a very hard time, bad enough that I admitted I was struggling to my mother. My mother looked at me and told me: “Don’t make big decisions in February.” 

I was very confused, because it was not February at the time, but she explained that one year, when she was younger but old enough to live on her own, she was having a very hard time, much like me. She found herself feeling especially low and especially stressed in February. And she decided she wouldn’t make any big changes for the rest of the month.

And the month went by, and she had a hard time, but time passed and it happened that by the beginning of March, she was feeling a lot better. And she was able to make big decisions she had avoided in February.

So now it’s a mantra for me: Don’t make big decisions in February.

February being whenever I feel down or angry or stressed. 

Boss or coworkers being crappy? Don’t make big decisions in February.

Feeling lonely and it’s 2am and you have a bottle of hair dye just sitting on your bathroom sink? Don’t make big decisions in February.

Give yourself space to think through your decisions. Bad moods rarely give you the best judgement. Anxiety disorders, depression, and other mental illnesses will try to convince you the wrong decisions are the right ones, and in the moment, they sound very convincing. 

So give yourself time to figure out if that’s what you actually need, what you actually want, and what would maybe feel good in the moment but have consequences you’re not willing or ready to deal with.

Try not to make life changes in February, whatever February is for you.

[ethanrayne]

I know this is a post about February as a metaphor for rough times, but as someone whose rough times ARE February (and who’s known many other people for whom February is rough, either due to seasonal depression or just the bad luck of life shit hitting around then all the time), I highly recommend not making big decisions in ACTUAL February as well, unless you’re 100% doing well in February. Because, well… February is terrible.

[imtooticky]

This song says it all about February, literal and metaphorical.

[sainzcaleruega]

MAKE THEM GAY YOU COWARDS

[whitepeopletwitter]

[booklovertwilight]