I'm going to be writing something that I don't normally write about (scenario wise); it's still gonna be cardiophilia related, but it's a bit dark compared to what I would normally write. FetLife is gonna see it first!
Reblog w/ your state//territory//etc. pretty please?
[Whichever is most relevant and comfortable]
Maybe this will “jump start” some hearts to meet.
Here goes nothing…
[PA, USA] (for now)
I’ve seen a lot of posts on my dash tonight about users who are threatening suicide, with other Tumblr members posting in effort to try to get ahold of them. I think you all should see this:
IF THERE IS EVER A TUMBLR USER WHO HAS POSTED A GOOD-BYE MESSAGE, SUICIDE NOTE, VIDEO, OR ANYTHING OF THE SORT, PLEASE FOLLOW THIS POST.
1. Scroll to the top of your dashboard.
2. See the circular question mark icon at the top? It’s the third one over from your home symbol. Click on that, and a screen similar to the one in the picture will come up.
3. Where you can type in questions, the box with the magnifying glass at the top, type in the word “suicide.”
4. Click on the first link that shows up. It should say, “Pass the URL of the blog on to us.”
5. Type in the user’s URL and tell Tumblr admin that the user is contemplating suicide and has posted a message indicating that they are going through with it or will be attempting. Hit send! Tumblr administration will perform a number of actions to contact the user and take the necessary steps to prevent the suicide.
TUMBLR: THIS COULD SAVE A USER’S LIFE. PLEASE DO NOT IGNORE SUICIDE THREATS.
Reblog this to keep other users aware. Suicide isn’t a joke, and neither is someone’s life. If you didn’t know this, someone else may not, either. Pass it on.
I sit on the exam table, paper robe on, waiting for the doctor to arrive. From the moment I sat in the waiting room to when the receptionist led me in here, my heart’s been thumping a staccato rhythm that echoes in my ears. And the speed and intensity was increasing by the moment now, making it hammer so hard that I can feel it shaking my chest, see it through the thin layer of my robe.
This isn’t an unusual occurrence when it comes to my yearly physicals. Not because i’m nervous, by any means, but because of the auscultation procedure. Having my heartbeat listened to turned me on. In fact, anything involving my heartbeat turned me on. Every time it begins to pound - like it is right now - I get wet between my legs. When it gets like this, I used to press my hand against my chest to try and quell the crazy palpitations, but the sensation of it slamming against my hand only increased my arousal. I’m not exactly sure what it is about my heart, about having it listened to that excites me so. All I know is that whenever I hear heartbeat sounds in songs, movies, or on TV shows, or even hear the word “heart”, it makes me squirm in a pleasantly awkward way.
That’s what makes going to the doctor such an awkward experience - having the cold head of the stethoscope pressed to my chest, trying to slow my heart down by taking deep breaths. Yet the more I’d try to keep it calm, the harder and faster it would pound, inevitably leading my doctor to ask me if I was nervous or why my heart was beating so quickly. I’d often have to come up with some sort of excuse - yes, I was nervous, or i’d just had an espresso, or anything better and less bizarre than it being a turn-on.
But there’s also something I’d wonder about - how my heart sounded through that stethoscope. I’d never had an opportunity myself; the only way I’d ever heard it was at night in my bed, when my ear was pressed to my mattress and I could hear its faint but frantic thudding.That experience was arousing enough (sometimes so much that it caused me to masturbate) so I was curious, imagining how it would sound, loud and clear through that stethoscope. I’d look up at my doctor with a certain degree of envy. The temptation was strong to ask her to let me listen to my own heart, but I was far too shy to follow through with that urge, so I’d just end up sitting there, my curious appetite unsated.
As I’m lost in thought, my eyes drift across the room and land on the Littmann stethoscope hanging from a hook on the wall, just inches within reach. This is unusual, as it’s usually hanging around my doctor’s neck. Now my heart’s thumping harder and faster than ever at this opportunity that has presented itself - to finally be able to hear my own heartbeat. Except - my doctor could come in at any minute. The thought of finally getting to hear my heartbeat combined with the thought of getting caught doing so makes my heart go absolutely wild, so hard I can barely catch my breath.
No, no - I couldn’t. How would I explain myself if my doctor were to walk into the room? But this may not happen again. It’s probably the only opportunity I’ll get to hear my heart. What if, by next year’s visit, my doctor doesn’t leave it on the hook? And even if she does, I’d have to wait an entire year to hear it - and yet there’ll still be the possibility that she won’t leave the stethoscope in the room.
Still - it’s not like I’ll have much time anyway. And, oh yeah - that whole getting caught thing. But so what if I get caught using the stethoscope? I’m probably not the first person to do so. And I don’t need to lie, just tell her I was curious. Completely reasonable explanation.
BABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOM the paper robe is actually crinkling with the pounding of my heart...I’d better decide soon....BABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOM...because she could come in at anytime anytime anytime anytime...the word pounds in my head along with my heartbeat as I stare at the stethoscope dangling there...all I have to do is reach out...BABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOMBABOOM...
Suddenly the door opens and my doctor walks in. “Sorry for the delay. How’re you doing this morning, Stacey?”
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
origamiaround
izzy806
jbbartram-illu
blakekathryn
