My body does not have to be perfect to be loved by Allah (SWT)
ā āPerfectionā by Salamatullah Eldritch
I made a post a while back mainly talking about shitty takes from muslims on Tiktok, and ended up talking about my view of self-love, as someone who was born disabled and who has struggled with body image throughout my life. I decided a while back that I wanted to turn part of what I said into a poem and illustrate it, which was a bit ambitious, but I stuck to it. And hereās the final product. Iām pretty proud of it.
The verses in the background are the first 4 verses from Surah at-Tin, because itās probably the verse I think about most when thinking about the idea of being made perfect.
Dropping the first papercraft of the year, and the first full papercraft I've personally done in 4 years (if you exclude commissions and standees). I was grateful to catch one of the limited theatrical screenings of Guillermo del Toro's Frankenstein (2025) at the end of last year and I think we can all agree this scene was the stand-out moment in the film. But there were also several themes that hit me with such a powerful resonation, I felt like my soul was sucked into the film and split between the mind of Victor and the heart of the Creature.
Firstly, how could I have not captured this scene in papercraft? Assembling the Creature from scraps of paper, moments before he's meant to become scraps himself. It allowed me to step into Victor's shoes, and relive the obsessive pursuit he describes in the film, only to suddenly meet his goal and aimlessly fumble with what he's created, chaining it in the dungeon, out of sight and mind. I find myself, after tireless nights of dedicated crafting, throwing my completed papercrafts into my closet, documented, abandoned, eager to start the next one.
My Cake Tier Patreon members can download a digital papercraft kit of this when I drop the files later tonight!
Read on further if interested in how this papercraft marks a personal health milestone for me. Otherwise, have a wonderful day!
Why this papercraft marks a personal health milestone for me.
March 2023 is when my health suddenly took a left turn (see Facedown Fate and Night-Glimmer posts). Out of nowhere, I began to have what I call 'low heart rate sessions', where my heart rate for any activity was running 10-15 points lower than normal. I felt like I was walking underwater, my chest felt heavy, I felt cold, and would have to breathe heavy to keep up with the activity I was doing (whether that be walking, or even sitting). Then after several hours, it would suddenly disappear. My HR would rise to normal levels, my breathing would ease, my temperature would rise. No explanation or trigger.
I went to the ER 7 times over the next two months, and with the onset of my second now-chronic symptom, what I refer to as a PVC, I checked into the hospital for evaluation. People who have PVCs describe them as heart flutters, but mine are heart 'kicks'. Like a miniaturized version of the wind being knocked out of you. It's a scary, uncomfortable heart rate hiccup, invoking a short cough, and there's a feeling of dread lasting moments after it happens.
Over the next two years, I went to gastrologists, pulmonary specialists, allergists, 3 different cardiologists, tested so many medications, had multiple CT scans, MRIs, Echos, holter monitors, stress tests, all coming back with 'you're healthy as a horse, it's just stress'. In the end, the only solution my cardiologists could offer were anti-depressants for the stress or beta-blockers for the PVCs (which, hah, lower the heart rateā¦.hello???), which I declined both. I felt if it was stress causing these mystery symptoms, medications interfering with my productivity would just make me more stressed.
During the height of my symptoms I would experience a PVC every 20 minutes, invoked by sudden HR changes (even something like eating shaved ice, which triggers a hypothermic response through your tongue) or random stress events. Eventually, I cut out unnecessary stress in my life (like the news) and I saw my PVCs start to recede to a handful of times per day, months later.
Now, almost three years later, I'm only experiencing them a couple of times a week, if at all, after significant lifestyle changes and rigorous stress deterrents that I invoked at the start of 2025.
I sat through the Frankenstein film marveling at how bosom buddies I was with Victor's ambitions, only to realize I was experiencing my second self through the Creature. A being who was confused in his body, and clashing with his creator, desperate for answers on how to continue living as he is.
Him holding onto the dynamite stick was a taunted retribution toward Victor, but there's a moment of desperate hope in his eyes that this could be the way to unmake himself, perhaps into something Victor would realize he has to accept.
Last year I had to unmake myself to put everything back together with where I'm at now. With those tools in my pocket, I have a better outlook for 2026 and beyond. Rather than the closet, I've hung this frame in my hallway to remind me of this milestone, my Creature, everyday.
"i hope death is like being carried to your bedroom when you were a child & fell asleep on the couch during a family party. i hope you can hear the laughter from the next room"
blakekathryn
yousharknotpass
tangentwithtanner
