I love when I’m feeling well enough to explore my favorite city.
via @ottermafia’s iPhone 6S
Today's Document

shark vs the universe
One Nice Bug Per Day
sheepfilms

Product Placement
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

@theartofmadeline
NASA

tannertan36

bliss lane
Claire Keane

★

if i look back, i am lost
Fai_Ryy
occasionally subtle
hello vonnie

JVL
No title available
$LAYYYTER
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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@rizzlebarry
I love when I’m feeling well enough to explore my favorite city.
via @ottermafia’s iPhone 6S
The physician who was hired to make the decision on my LTD benefit appeal denied me based on “facts” like this one. The twitter account he referred to as evidence that I’m lying about my illness is hardly active. Also, the majority of the posts are:
• Photos of pets • Photos from Timehop (aka from years ago) • Photos of things around my house
The few photos that “appear to be a young woman who is engaged in life activities” and “awake, smiling and alert” are FAKE. People always use social media to show the BEST moments from their lives, even if they aren’t the whole truth. I’ve had some great experiences in New York, so of course I am going to brag about them! What I don’t share on social media are the consequences of being happy for a day. I don’t share the three days I have to sleep to recover from one stand-up comedy set. I don’t share the intense pain my body is in after walking around in Central Park for a day.
They’re called invisible illnesses for a reason. People with chronic illnesses can look completely normal. They are hidden in plain sight.
This sickens me though, because like
“appear to be a young woman who is engaged in life activities” and “awake, smiling and alert”
The disability system (which is built to make it difficult and often impossible to get benefits), doctors, and yeah, a hell of a lot of people, believe that functional moments mean that disabled people have functional lives.
Maybe I only want my social media to reflect the good times I have. Maybe that’s the only form of control I have. Maybe I want to reinforce the positive. You know, the way people are always telling me to? To focus on the things I can do? Not to dwell on it. Not wallow in it or rub it in people’s faces.
But the instant I behave like the person our culture is always telling me to be, I stop being disabled.
“Be disabled, but act normal,” they say. Then they turn around and say “You act normal, you can’t be disabled.”
We are expected to fit the narrative. We are not allowed to “engage in life activities”. (What does that even MEAN? WHAT?) We are not supposed to be “awake, smiling, and alert.” I am forced to conclude that they expect disabled people to be bedridden and miserable at all times. As close to dead as possible.
This is so disgusting.
Forcing people to constantly appear “disabled enough” turns disability, our lives, into a performance for other people. It’s sick. We should be allowed to live our lives and be happy to the extent that we can do either of those things. We should be allowed to exist without harassment or gatekeeping. And the doctors that evaluate people for disability need to be ruthlessly vetted for bigotry of all kinds. (Of course they won’t be, the disability system WANTS doctors who will throw out cases at the drop of a hat.)
I cannot stress this enough: ALLIES, CALL OUT THIS BEHAVIOR WHEN YOU SEE IT.
THIS.
And the belief that you have to always look miserable/sick because of an invisible disability is pervasive.
When I was at Planned Parenthood – fucking Planned Parenthood – explaining to the doctor why I need an HBC implant, I mentioned that I have diagnosed chronic depression that seems linked to my period as that was when I’d have my absolute worst days, despite meds. The doctor blurted out in amazement, “But you’re so bright.”
Right.
Because God forbid I have an actual GOOD day, when I DON’T feel like shit. Thank you, person who’s only met me once, for thinking that I must be lying because I don’t meet your expectations for someone who’s chronically depressed. Swear to God it took effort to not just reach out and slap her.
You can totally complain to the office manager about that.
You know, if you wanted to.
I normally wouldn’t suggest this because I know firsthand how upsetting it is to have to lodge a complaint, even if it’s as simple as writing a letter, but given that disabled people are likely to be poor, and poor people rely heavily on clinics like Planned Parenthood, this kind of thing needs to be ruthlessly extinguished at those clinics. They MUST be held to a very high standard, because attitudes like this harm the people they are most likely to be dealing with.
@plannedparenthood, maybe some education is in order among your staff. This kind of thing, while probably not intended to come across as offensive, is offensive, and it is oppressive. You need to be better than that.
Some days when I don’t need extra help, I am forced to tote around a really heavy cane (which screws with my back and arms) in order to look -disabled enough- for parking (without getting disgusted looks), for disabled services at cons, etc. Sometimes I have to bring it with me to use the scooter at the grocery store, because otherwise I get whispered comments about fat people using the scooter because of their weight.
Never mind that I am fat because of my disability. Even if it mattered.
As someone that lives with more than one of the “invisible” illnesses, I sympathize and understand the double standard that exists. Sure, I smile in my FB photos and whatnot, but that’s in between the excruciating pain of ligaments and tendons that are constantly tearing (Elhers Danis Syndrome), depression that can be sometimes be overwhelming, and chronic migraines. I’ve heard “Well You look fine”. Great, that doesn’t mean I AM fine. Illnesses go beneath the surface. People need to change their mindset that in order to be sick, you need to show it
I would just like to thank everyone for your support in this difficult time. I’m preparing my final appeal and completely overwhelmed and feeling quite hopeless. This company has almost a year of back checks they are refusing to send me unless I prove that I am too sick to teach in a classroom again. I feel that I have already proven that, so what else can I do?
All of your kind words and cries of outrage about this horrible situation are really the only things holding me together right now. Wish me luck in preparing the appeal to end all appeals!
Me: I'm doing too much. I need to rest and take care of my body.
Also Me: I'm not doing enough. I need to get more stuff done.
Unconditional Love
My girlfriend took me to a beautiful, romantic restaurant tonight to celebrate our anniversary.
It was so lovely, but I was too nauseous to eat much food and after a little while, I couldn’t keep my eyes open and I started falling asleep.
My darling girlfriend ate the food that I couldn’t and she pulled me into her arms so I could rest my head on her shoulder. She didn’t care that we were in public. She didn’t care that it was supposed to be our anniversary dinner.
I kept apologizing for ruining our special night and she said, “As long as I’m with you, it’s the perfect night!”
Huge shout out to those people in our lives who know about all of our struggles with our illnesses and love us anyway.
Doctors these days…
“Boo Hoo!”
The world collectively sighs and shakes our heads. “What now?”
Couples costume: A Deer in Headlights.
Please forgive me, loyal followers. I never considered this a possibility, but I am at rock-bottom and desperate. My pride is immensely strong, but I forced myself to swallow it and create a Go Fund Me .
As you may or may not know, I am being repeatedly abused and rejected by an insurance company that owes me over $10,000 worth of back payments.
For the last year or so, I have been financially supported by my beautiful girlfriend. I never wanted to take her money, but she was so kind and insistent that she didn’t mind doing it. I fooled myself into believing her. The appeals have dragged on for longer than either of us anticipated. There is a possibility that I may never get that money.
This weekend my girlfriend told me she wanted to break up. The stress of supporting me financially was way too much on her. I do not blame her. I was taking the love of my life for granted and I might end up losing her. I am pulling myself out of this horrid pit of despair that I plummeted the two of us into and doing everything I can to save my cherished relationship.
I have been hanging all of my hopes and dreams on that insurance money. But it is time to face reality. I am looking for part-time work; anything that I am able to handle with my disabilities.
I am up to my eyes in debt from medical bills, rent/bills, etc. I told my girlfriend that I would no longer take a cent from her. While I am getting back onto my feet, I thought it might be possible to get a boost from the kindness of strangers.
I know we are all going through something. You all have been so very supportive in the last few months. I greatly appreciate you all.
Any amount of money will help me. I know that many of you may be in a similar situation, so I do not expect anyone to donate if they cannot. But please share this with anyone that you think might be able to throw a few bucks to a chronically ill, hopelessly in love, cute lesbian and her even more adorable soul mate.
DONATE HERE
I am sorry this sucks. Please help me. I am excited to pay it forward when I’m back on my feet.
I love you all so much.
I’ve already received more donations than I expected. My gratitude is overwhelming. You are all angels. Don’t feel any pressure to donate, but please pass this along/reblog/signal boost for me! Thank you!
Stay strong, fellow warriors.
Pretty Ella
Kula and his frenemy.
Kula the Golden Doodle and his greatest emotional struggle.
My roommate Joe shared an amazing and inspiring story and I thought it might be nice to share.
Shout out to all of the people who are going to be getting shit from their families because of their invisible illnesses over the holidays.
Stay strong. They might not believe you, but I do.
Cat Logic: Yes. This is how you sleep in this chair.