The really unfortunate thing about mental health progress is that sometimes you realize you've made it in the form of "wow, I haven't felt this bad in a fucking while"
On the one hand it's a bit of a pick me up in a dark place to know that this will pass because it has passed before on the other hand sometimes it isn't entirely a pleasant thought to go "wow, I used to feel like this all the time. That was pretty fucking bad. It's pretty bad right now too also."
Hi all! Hope you're all doing well! We are starting to plan Bluepulse Week 2025 now and are looking to choose the date and prompts with your assistance.
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We're really looking forward to Bluepulse Week 2025! It offers us all an opportunity to come together and celebrate a ship that means a lot to us. Hoping to see you all there! ❤️💙
again, i know it's depressing and i'm sorry for putting negative stuff on everyone's dash but it's so fucking frustrating that nobody is talking about this because if nobody listens to us then nothing will happen and nothing will change, please please please start speaking up
That last reblog was from December, and things have since got even worse - off the top of my head, the NHS will no longer prescribe puberty blockers at all, and "gender critical" views have been legally affirmed to be a protected class of speech.
Not to mention the normalization of 12, 16, and 24 hour shifts in the medical field, as well as there being no legal recourse to refuse being mandated to stay beyond 24 hours when you don't have relief.
it also kills thousands of patients a year. sleep deprivation is indistinguishable from being drunk in terms of how badly it affects reaction time, rational thought, decision making, and manual dexterity. people are making just as many life-or-death decisions about patients at the ends of those 24 hour shifts as they are at the beginning. we need a national medical worker's strike and we need it yesterday
you know i don’t think we often talk about how difficult it actually is to suddenly realize that a belief you thought was good and moral and correct was actually really fucking toxic. how you have to look at something and go ‘oh shit, oh i fucked up. oh this is going to take probably years at minimum to deprogram from my brain because of all the little ways this shit pervaded the rest of my beliefs’
so. to all the people picking up all the pieces of a recently shattered world-view and trying to figure out what is safe to keep and what has to be thrown away and started over
to all the people having to relearn how to even listen to other people
to all the people putting in the work to do better while struggling with the guilt that comes from finding out you were the asshole
i’m proud of y’all.
it’s hard to admit being wrong and even harder to change in the aftermath. just keep doing the best you can and just know that the effort is appreciated. everyone can change. everyone can do better. keep fighting.
Do you ever start writing something that you’re excited about and that seems like it’s turning out well and that you’re getting eager to share, and then you start typing it up or doing an edit pass and it’s just awful it’s awful its premise is fundamentally flawed and it’s out of character and the prose is clunky and the plot is badly paced and ludicrous and the whole thing is embarrassing, how could you have done this, how could you have sunk so much time into this, you can’t even look at it, how is this that shining thing you were so excited about, how could you even have considered finishing it let alone sharing it with anyone, you’re crying, your mother is crying, nuns are spontaneously exploding in the streets,
To a homophobe, even the most chaste kiss on the cheek between gay people is exactly as disgusting and degenerate as a hardcore BDSM orgy hosted in the town square, so you may as well ally with the BDSM orgy enthusiasts to throw bricks at the cops who are going to try and arrest all of you together anyway.
I once held hands with my husband at an event where my wife was also present, and a concerned parent lectured me about how she didn't want us to "influence" her son. Our icky gay polyam hand holding was such a threat to this woman that she made a point to corner me away from my partners and get me on my own to lecture me about being "indecent." If she had been inclined toward violence, I would have been fucked.
Hand holding. That's all it fucking took.
So catch me at Pride in a leather harness and holding a bat, because if hand holding is all it takes, we owe it to each other to stand together.
The sheer number of LGBT people who have called me a "degenerate" and a "pedophile" and an "abuse apologist" and a "homophobe" and a "woman-beater" over this post, in the less than 24 hours since I have posted it, is proof that it needs to be said.
Call me a degenerate if you want. I don't care. It has always been the degenerates protecting each other when the cops raid our bars and inspect our clothing and haul us away for being cross-dressing, family-destroying, society-polluting, tranny dyke faggot freaks.
I know who I'd rather have on my side, and it's not the self-loathing pieces of shit who would rather destroy their own people than dismantle systems of oppression.
You will never be wholesome and pure enough for the bigots, no matter how much you distance yourself from the kinksters. Once they've killed all us degenerates, they're coming for you next. And we won't be here to fight for you anymore.
Good morning—GOOD NEWS! Going on 2 years ago, I published my article in Scientific American about #transgenger + #hormone history 🗃️🧪🏳️⚧️. I finished the book in Oct, and my editor just wrote to say she loves it and it will publish next winter!
This book almost didn’t happen. It was so hard to write. It *hurt* to write. Watching the news and reading history, it felt the same—rise of fascism and attacks on minorities and LGBTQ. But it’s done, it is written.
THE INTERMEDIARIES tells the story of that science—itself often strange and remarkable—as well as the man, his band of revolutionaries, and the Institute for Sexual Science, both center of the homosexual and trans community and base of operations for the first LGBTQ rights movement of the 20th century.
Sexual and gender nonconformists, what Hirschfeld called the intermediaries, had a right to live, a right to thrive. They also had a right to joy. Science would lead the way, but this history unfolds as an interwar thriller—patients and physicians risking their lives to be seen and heard even as Hitler began his rise to power. They faced abuse, blackmail, and political machinations; they responded with secret publishing campaigns, leaflet drops, pro-homosexual propaganda, and alignments with rebel factions of Berlin’s literati. It’s a story about pioneers. And about hope.
And it all started here:
The Institute for Sexual Research in Berlin would be a century old if it hadn’t fallen victim to Nazi ideology
Fun fact: You are part of keeping a fandom alive. Every interaction, every person in a fandom has their own part to play. If that’s reblogging art, fanfics or making cursed edits, that’s good enough.
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