You're good, but I'm Crowley.

[goatihilator-blog]

Good Job, Marvel

I never thought that I, a person of German Jewish descent, would be scared of picking up a Captain America comic. But now? Now I am.

So you think it’s okay to make Captain America a member of Hydra? A Nazi? You wanted shock factor, you got it… but you also completely took away everything Captain America is and everything Captain America stands for. Let’s also not forget that Captain America was created by two Jewish men in 1941, so we are spitting in their face by just letting this exist.

I’ve heard some say “it’s only for a few months, it’s not the end of the world! It’s not going to effect all the universes forever!” But don’t you see? The world is already having a surge of racism, antisemitism, and intolerance. Making Captain America a member of Hydra has the chance to make this even worse. Captain America is a role model; always has been, always will be. I hope you see where that is going.

On the other hand, it’s painful as this comes right when the #GiveCaptainAmericaABoyfriend campaign picks up steam. People everywhere are in support of it, but there are also a lot of people (everywhere) that are strongly against it, acting as if the world would end if Captain America was anything but heterosexual. We’re not saying he has to be gay, as he’s obviously been attracted to women, but at least bi. But I don’t see these people against a non-hetero Cap speaking out against a Hydra Captain America. Captain America’s sexuality does not change his core; being a member of Hydra, a nazi, changes his core completely.

Guys, please. I love Marvel just as much as pretty much anyone else, but this is too much. We HAVE to get this series pulled, within any legal means necessary.

I love you Marvel, I love your movies and comics and merchandise, but after Civil War, I will not be purchasing any movie tickets, comics, or merchandise until this series is either over or pulled. I will not support you spitting on the image and memory of Captain America and his original creators. I will not support this.

[submitordiewhatareyoufrench]

All of this. 

[writing-prompt-s]

You are born into this world as a flame, dancing atop a candle on someone’s birthday cake.

[submitordiewhatareyoufrench]

A flash, and suddenly, you exist! Blinking, you peer about, flinching away from the rush of air from the strange, whirling thing above you that threatened to extinguish your life that had just taken hold. No, no! Too soon, too soon! It had just begun! You cling to your tiny refuge, burning with all your might, before suddenly a strange creature stops the whirling thing, and the air stills.

"Oh, thank you!" You say, though you're quite sure the giant couldn't hear you, so, instead, you stretch yourself up tall and bright, happy to burn freely, now that the air was still and you could breathe without being bowled over. Oh yes, you must breathe! In with the oxygen, out with the heat, and you dance for joy in revelry of your life. For that is what it is; life. You breathe, and you eat, and you dance. You live.

'What was that noise?' You wondered, looking around for the source of the gleeful shouts, and you smile to see smaller versions of the great giant that had given you life. Why, what were they doing? They were moving quickly... Why, they were dancing! These giants, they dance, too! Your smile brightens your flame, and you join in the dance, bending to and fro and flickering your light. You know not what gives these little giants such joy, but your joy was simply in living and in dancing, and in seeing their joy as it was.

One of the little giants runs over to you, watching you dance, and after a moment you still, looking at the giant looking at you, and the giant smiles at you! Why, did they see? Did they know you were alive?! You smile back, brightening your flame and flickering your light. 'Yes, little giant, I see you, too! I see the light and life and joy in you!'

The little giant looks up as the large one joins her, and the rest of the little ones move to surround you, and what is that they're doing now, with their voices? Is that singing? Are they singing to you? 'I think they must be, why else would they all be here? Well, if they are singing a song, I should dance for them!' You think.

And so you dance! You dance like you have never danced before, flickering and bending and swaying with all the joy and life in your flame, only stopping when the song ends, and the little giant who had smiled at you leans in to look at you, and you smile up at her, and everyone seems to be waiting, now. 'Waiting for what?' You wonder, watching quietly, before suddenly, the little giant takes in a breath, and blows as hard as she can, and blows out your flame! Only a tiny ember remains, smoking on the wick of the candle,

'Why? Why did you put out my flame?' You pull and you pull, trying to breathe in enough air to bring your flame back to life, to bring back the light and the life and the warmth, but all that comes from your efforts is smoke. Your efforts weaken, the warmth of your ember is fading, and even the voices of the giants are growing dim, but you look up at the little giant who had blown out your flame, and you see her smile and laugh, and you smile to yourself, 'Yes, I see. I see the light, and life, and joy in you.' You think to yourself, your last thoughts before your ember goes out.

[petr1kov]

keeping up with the american elections while not being american like

[xizark]

keeping up with the american elections while being american like

[ihavetoomanyacronyms-blog]

I really wish people would think before they put on fragrances. I mean, not only do people just drown themselves in them, they’re completely inconsiderate of people with fragrance sensitivity and allergies, people with asthma and copd, etc.

Y'all I know you like to smell good, I get that. But let me tell you something.

If the place you left still smells like you 2 minutes after you left, and a person with a stuffy nose can follow the trail of your fragrance across a Wal-Mart to find you, you are overdoing it.

If you are using more than one short spray of body spray like axe or what have you, you are overdoing it.

Perfume and body spray? Don’t put it on your skin, instead, spray one mist into the air and walk into it. This gets it on your skin, yes, but also gets it in your clothes and hair which retain the scent much longer.

Most importantly, don’t reapply every hour. Just because you can’t smell it anymore doesn’t mean it’s worn off. Your nose has simply adjusted to the ever present smell. Trust me, it’s still there.

People who constantly reapply their fragrances become an overwhelming cloud of smell that even non-sensitive people are put off by.

Lastly. If you are going somewhere like a hospital, doctor’s office, or any other sort of medical facility…and I cannot overstate this… DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WEAR PERFUME, BODY SPRAY, COLOGNE, USE IRISH SPRINGS BODY WASH, OR ANYTHING ELSE WITH A STRONG, LASTING FRAGRANCE.

You may be there because of an illness, injury, or a long term thing. But many, many spoonies have chemical sensitivities of varying degrees of extremes and you are literally torturing them with your smell. My mother has had to leave waiting rooms because she couldn’t breathe. She truly, literally. Could. Not. Breathe. She has allergies and COPD. She has had to use her rescue inhaler two to three times just to be able to start coughing. I myself get raging headaches and sometimes minor asthma attacks(despite not having persistent asthma since childhood) from strong fragrances.

You are legitimately endangering people’s lives, comfort, and well being. Just to smell good. Ask yourself something. If you knew someone you loved would suffer or possibly would be unable to breathe because of that spray you were putting on…would you still do it?

If the answer is no, please don’t wear them in places with high risk of encountering people with chemical and fragrance sensitivities.

Thank you.

[ihavetoomanyacronyms-blog]

Painsomnia and My Feels

It sucks.

For those unfamiliar with the term, it looks like exactly what it is. Pain induced insomnia. You literally cannot sleep, in spite of how insanely exhausted you are, because of the level of pain you’re in. As it stands I’m coming up on 36 hours awake on 6 hours of broken sleep. This happens to me so much - not only the stints of staying up 24+ hours, but the <10 hours of broken sleep….and I don’t mean I sleep 4 hours and wake up and sleep 6 more. I mean I’m actually waking up multiple times in one hour, and I may get two to three hours of solid sleep before I start getting woken up several times in an hour again. 

Sometimes it’s from the pain, sometimes it’s from anxiety, sometimes it’s for no reason at all. It’s the last reason, the no reason, that irritates me the most. If it’s pain, I can understand it. It hurts. It wakes me up. Cool. I get it. If it’s anxiety, I understand it. My brain is freaking out. Cool. I get it. But no reason at all? COME ON!!! Give a girl a break here!! 

Today’s…last night’s…tonight’s? I don’t even know anymore… bout of painsomnia was brought to you by my screaming knees, followed by an IBS flare of such degree I was less than 2 minutes from going to the emergency room from the pain in my stomach before it finally let up. I have never had pain that bad in my stomach. Holy. Crap. If labor is anything at all close to that, and I get pregnant at some point if ever I actually wind up, you know, actually finding a significant other? Sign my ass up for a c-section. Not even joking. Screw. That. I was standing beside my bed, hanging onto it, bent over, trying my best just to draw in half of a breath through the pain and the dagger that was twisting right at my diaphragm and piercing through into my back. I had to have looked like I was actually in  labor, with my stance and how I was breathing, lol!!!! Looking back on it, it’s actually humorous from a third person perspective. But maaaaaaan. That suuuuuuuuuucked.

Now here I am, 6 hours after the last cramp finally passed (along with, ehem, the obstructions that were causing the issues to begin with) with my head pounding, my knees throbbing, my back spasming, and I’ve hit the point of fatigue from my body going through this cycle over and over and over again that I’m actually starting to get little visual hallucinations. You know those little sparks you get in your eyes, or how you’ll see things move that didn’t actually move when you’re just, beyond exhausted? That’s where I’m at. My hands are shaking, my everything is shaking… I’m fighting back tears just writing this because I don’t want to cry, because crying is just using up more energy that I don’t even HAVE anymore because this horsehockey has taken it all from me. 

I’m just so tired. Of everything. And I’m so tired of the bipolarness of my posts lol (well I AM Bipolar…but still). Sometimes I’ll be here all ‘yay look how positive I am! and look how helpful and how I do these things and woo!’ and then I’ll flip and just ‘agh my life suuucks’ but you know… that’s how my life goes. It changes from second to second and I usually am pretty damn positive in spite of well over half of my life having been total hell that I wouldn’t even wish upon my rapist. But now and again… it just beats me down.. and I have to get it out… and it’s so much easier venting it here… even if nobody reads it and nobody cares…because I can’t let people offline see me like this. Not genuinely. That’s the one thing I’ve never been strong enough to do - I know it’s something I have to work through. But for now…. this is my sounding board. So yes, sometimes you’ll get happy Jade, and sometimes you’ll get angry Jade, and sometimes…you get this. Jade who just can’t take anymore. Who just needs to vent and cry or not cry and just… let go of some of the crap that’s dragging her down.

What I would love the most right now, is to just have a guy here beside me, just to hold me and tell me it’ll be ok.. and be here for the bad times, and support me through them whether they last a few minutes or weeks, not desert me. But after my ex… I don’t entirely even have hope that a guy like that’s out there. Who the hell wants to deal with a 29 year old with this much crap wrong with her? I don’t even want to deal with me most of the time, but I kinda have to.

Anyway. Done with the pity party rant thing whatever the crap this was. If you read it… thanks for bearing with me.

[gifak-net]

[ultravioletnights]

i’m sorry but there is no way you could have stopped me from standing on my chair and screeching like a banshee if i saw this live…

[alexbelvocal]

What

[books-and-cookies]

how

[prettybxybastard]

HOW

[nonbinannytranny]

“ballet isn’t a sport”

[bubblegumjetpack]

The thing about this is, you can barely see their muscles straining from effort. The effort to keep each other and themselves balanced, definitely, but that guy’s hand is barely shaking. The amount of training and strength and balance to go into this is fucking insane.

[time-lordd]

Ballet is raw AF

[gifsboom]

Bat

[ihavetoomanyacronyms-blog]

And people wonder why so many people with Fibromyalgia can’t work? What I would like to know is why the government still doesn’t consider it a disability. Fibro is terrible.

[ihavetoomanyacronyms-blog]

Random aside: Am I the only one here who can’t think of YANA without having Doctor Who flashbacks and waiting for The Master to swoop into a position of power and reveal him—–OH MY GOD IT’S TRUMP! No, wait… I can’t insult The Master like that… I like The Master too much LOL

[ihavetoomanyacronyms-blog]

So, I read a post on Facebook, that was from here originally(but left uncredited, sadly)…that said, and I quote, 

“Everyone has that one celebrity where no matter how shitty of a day you’re having just seeing their face or hearing their voice makes you smile and for that split second you forget about your reality and are taken away”

And this is completely true for me…however, I don’t have just one, to be truthful. I have multiple. I’m fortunate in that respect. I doubt this post will circulate or that it’ll really be seen by them, and that’s okay, it doesn’t really have to be. It’s just something that I feel, personally, that I need to say. 

There are, as I said, multiple celebrities that the above quote applies to, and in no particular order, they are; David Tennant, Jim Beaver, Mark Sheppard, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, Mark Pellegrino, Rob Benedict and Richard Speight Jr.

Each one of these men has had a profound impact upon my life, in ways great and small, in bad times and good. You have all carried me through the worst points in my depression, through the hardest times in my life. You’ve made me laugh, you’ve made me cry, you’ve made me forget even if only for a split second, the constant pain my body is in every single day. You’ve given me hope, that this battle I’m fighting against my own body, against my own demons, isn’t endless, and it isn’t pointless. That even in the darkest of times, there’s always an opportunity to help others, to be kind, to show love in spite of your own pain and suffering. Even if it’s just giving someone a laugh when they need it.

And you see, that’s what I’ve done. I’ve taken these chronic illnesses of mine, this constant pain, and I’ve turned it to something good. These past 18 - almost 19  - years of doctors, my own research, medication after medication, test after test to the point I at one time had so many track marks I looked like a junkie… all of the knowledge I’ve accumulated, all of the coping skills I’ve learned, the home remedies that work, the ones that don’t, the medication whose side effects are worse than the benefits… I’ve taken that, and I’m using it to help other people like me, and I’m letting them know that no, you aren’t crazy, no, you aren’t alone in this battle, and no, you aren’t weak for not being able to go out there and do everything that every able-bodied person is able to do… you’re strong as hell for being able to do everything that you’re able to accomplish in spite of everything you’re going through, even if that’s just taking a shower and remembering to eat so you can take your medications on a bad day.  

When I’m having a bad day, where my pain has me to the point I can barely get out of bed - or can’t, without help, which is a fun experience when you’re not yet even 30 - I have two go-to shows. Doctor Who, and Supernatural. 

Ten is and has always been ‘my Doctor.’ Never does he fail to make me laugh with his excitement and his antics, his pure, childlike joy when he sees something new and exciting, the way he futzes up his hair when he’s trying to think is hilarious, mostly because I tend to do the same thing, with less awesome results, and the ADD way in which he thinks is so completely relatable to me. It’s like he literally has too many thoughts in his brain and they all keep getting in the way, so he can’t see what’s right in front of him… and that.. is my life, in a nutshell, living with brain fog. My thoughts are always so confused and jumbled up, keeping them straight is a nightmare. So having a Doctor that I can so keenly relate to, that so closely resembles my own personality, especially that way he gets that silent rage about him when something truly, deeply angers him on the rare occasions something does… it touches me. It moves me, to have that one character on a show that I can see myself in, it puts me in the show. I’m an a-social introvert by nature, but when I’m around those I’m comfortable with? I am totally Ten, all the way. And nothing broke my heart more than the ‘I don’t wanna go.’ That, sir, was the first time I have ever cried my eyes out watching a TV show. I’ve shed a tear or two, sure. But bawled like a baby? Oh no. That was a first for me. You popped my TV-crying cherry. Kudos, to you, Mr. Tennant. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss your Doctor, and my mother, who I recently got into the show *Cheers* agrees. She adores your Doctor as much as I do, which is saying something! You’re mom approved! But, in closing, you made me laugh, you made me cry, but most importantly, you gave me someone I could identify with, that moved me, that absorbed me into a show so completely that I could - and still can do, when I watch - forget about everything that’s going on, whether it’s my pain, or my depression, or my anxiety, and just… be. That’s no small thing, sir. I’m eternally grateful to you for it, and you’ll always be The Doctor to me, because you always fix my broken spirit. 

To the aforementioned cast of Supernatural -  Much like Doctor Who, watching Supernatural, even if I’ve seen the episode 4 times (okay, let’s be honest, at this point it’s more like 10… I’ve binge watched the entire series at least that many times on Netflix) it never fails to absorb me. But with Supernatural, it’s different than with Doctor Who. Doctor Who is more light hearted and fun and keeps things happier, to an extent. Supernatural… Supernatural allows me to delve into the darkness, I suppose. It lets me watch these men, angels, and demons battling demons - literally and metaphorically - throughout their life, going through hell and high water, with life, or fate, or whomever or whatever, throwing every pitfall in the road along the way at them. Everything they do, every time they think they get their head above water… here comes the next riptide to pull them back under again and it’s the next fight to get to the surface to catch a breath of air. 

That… is my fight with chronic pain and depression in a nutshell. I’ve been dealing with chronic pain since I was about 10 years old. Depression followed suit soon after, naturally. I, much like the Winchesters, never had a normal life. I was never a normal kid, a normal teen, I’m still not a normal adult. I don’t know what normal is. I don’t know what normal feels like, physically or mentally. I’m still not sure if I’m okay with that. But I’ve come to terms with the fact that’s something that’s not going to change. There’s no cure for what I have. There’s only treatments that sort of, kind of, in a way, if you tilt your head and squint, help manage the symptoms. It won’t kill me, probably. The medications may eventually deteriorate my organs, I may eventually wind up developing Lupus, or not, the doctors don’t know, I may, somewhat soon, need brain surgery. Again, the doctors don’t know. My life is uncertainty. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, if the pain will be too bad for me to do anything productive, or if I will have a day that I can function close to that of a normal person and get a whole bunch of things done, only to wind up paying for it by being laid up for 2-3 days if not longer. So… in a sense. I kind of live like a Winchester. One day at a time; no, not even that - one breath at a time, because my condition, my pain level, can change from second to second. 

Watching the show, like I said.. it gives me hope. Demons can be defeated. There’s always hope, there’s ALWAYS that breath you can snatch right at the end before the next riptide comes. It’s those breaths that get me through. And along the way…. there’s always people you can help, to make your own life that little bit less shitty…because you’re helping people along the way.

Off camera, you guys are all absolutely awesome. Seriously. Whether it’s with Random Acts, AKF, and YANA, or just being your goofy, silly ass selves… you always make me smile, you always make me laugh… and while I’ve never been to a convention (Not being able to work makes for little funds lol) I enjoy watching the videos people upload, and seeing the gifs here on Tumblr. I hope one day to make my way to one, although between my social anxiety and my socially awkward self, I doubt any sort of eloquence will be a thing from me lol. But, just know… each and every one of you has done so much for me… you’ve carried me through, you’ve given me hope, you’ve made me laugh when I needed it most, and you’ve made me cry when I needed it, too. 

I love each and every one of you for everything you’ve done, and for who you all are. You have my eternal gratitude, just for being yourselves, and for what you’ve done for me. Thank you, and namaste. 

[ihavetoomanyacronyms-blog]

Intentionally Ignored: The Costco Story

So, I went to Costco today; my parents or my mother and I will shop there regularly to get good bargains on bulk items that we go through a lot of (paper goods, sodas[unhealthy, I know], supplements, etc.) as well as to visit the pharmacy which, for my uninsured self, has AMAZING prices compared to my local pharmacy. 

First and foremost I would like to say that the employees of Costco are always amazing. They’re friendly, helpful, and always ready with a smile and quick to laugh even if you can see in their eyes or by their pallor how exhausted they are, or if they’re not feeling well that day. (I even unintentionally overheard one employee discussing with another that she has MS; bless.)

Now, my story begins.

For the past two weeks or so, I had my usual pre-fibro-flare symptoms of about a week of ridiculous insomnia(Stay awake 24-36 hours, sleep 4-6, 12 if I was extremely lucky; repeat), followed by extreme somnolence in which I would sleep anywhere from 12 to 18 hours a day. I’ve also been dealing with extreme pain behind my left knee due to an increase of swelling in the baker’s cyst there - I have them behind both knees, and though the one behind my right knee was of equal size, for whatever reason, my left was the only one causing me pain. Some days I could only take a single step and would have to bite back a cry of pain into a sharp gasp and woefully reach for my cuff-crutch to use on my right side so the right half of my body could bear the weight. (ProTip: If you have to use a cane or crutch, use the cane or crutch on the OPPOSITE side of the body of the leg that has the problem unless otherwise instructed by a doctor.) The downside of this is this puts extra stress on my equally-bad right knee.

This morning, I had an early doctor appointment, then my mother and I had to visit our local pharmacy to fetch some prescriptions, and it was on to Costco after a brief break back at home so I could take medications I was due for and so she could have a breather. 

It had been raining off and on all day, no big, I truly adore the rain; my body, however, does not, and being as I have arthritis not only in my spine but heavily suspected in my knees as well(this is a long story for another time as to why this isn’t a confirmed dx….), this isn’t a fun thing. As I exited the van and began the walk across the lot, the daggers in my right knee began. I can’t describe the feeling any other way; it legitimately felt as though, with every step, daggers were carving out the inside of my knee. I knew in that moment I would have to use the dreaded scooter. How I hate those blasted things!!!!! I informed my mother of this fact, and she was fine with it - having medical conditions herself, she completely understands; it’s one of many things we bond very deeply on and joke in a gallows humor fashion about. We get each other, because we’ve both been there. 

I digress. 

I climb in the scooter, and after figuring how it differs from the Wal-Mart scooter, off we went. For the first five or ten minutes, everything was alright - there was a near miss of a collision when someone exited an aisle without looking, but she stopped in time. 

We got what we needed in the vitamin section and from pharmacy, and moved along. 

It went downhill from there.

Y’all, I don’t know how it is where you are. But everyone there had their heads so far up their own tocheses it was ridiculous. It’s like everyone only pays attention to what they and their friends/family are doing, and no one else exists. I nearly ran into at least two dozen people, I was nearly run into half a dozen times. At one point, a man backed away from a sample table, with his cart, into oncoming traffic from both directions so quickly I had to IMMEDIATELY stop with such haste that my mother had to grab onto the back of my seat and very nearly did a front flip into my lap. 

It was if I was invisible.

No, worse. It was as if, because I was in that chair, I was being intentionally ignored.

‘If we don’t look at the disabled person, they don’t exist.’ 

Some people would look at me and look away quickly as though they were somehow afraid that just looking at me would slight me in some way, or God forbid, acknowledge me. If I came up behind/beside someone, and I KNEW they could see me out of their peripheral vision, they wouldn’t even turn to look or say anything if I said excuse me, they’d just shift out of the way. 

Honestly, I felt alienated more than once by these strangers, people who shouldn’t even matter to me. Like, how dare I, a disabled person, have the GALL to go shopping! How dare I, a person who otherwise looks healthy, who is young and has makeup on and looks nice because damn it I needed to feel good about SOMETHING today, be in that scooter that someone who fits their idea of a disabled deserves more than I do in their opinion!! I must just be lazy! Let’s ignore me and pretend I don’t exist! TEN POINTS IF YOU CAN HIT HER WITH YOUR CART! I mean for pity’s sakes, WHEN I WAS BACKING UP, WITH THE BEEPER BEEP BEEP BEEPING AWAY, PEOPLE WOULD JUST KEEP CHARGING ALONG! 

HOW IS THIS AT ALL ACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR?! HOW IS THIS OKAY!? Are you THAT wrapped up in yourself that you can’t take half a second to let someone who is trying to also get things done, who is in intense pain, and who is just trying to BACK THE HELL UP DO SO!?!?!?!?  AGH! 

What happened to consideration? To courtesy? To compassion? To paying attention to your surroundings? To giving a crap about your fellow human being who is literally two feet from you that just nearly ran into you with their scooter because you’d rather pretend they don’t exist?

What happened to society? 

Is it because I’m disabled? Is it because people just don’t care? Or is it because I don’t look disabled? 

I’m honestly at a loss. But I’m just. I’m tired, I’m angry, I’m frustrated, I’m honestly a little bit hurt, and I’m just done.

The sad thing is? I get treated with so much more courtesy and kindness by shoppers at Wal-Mart, the supposedly “trashy” place, than I do at Costco. 

Also, if anyone who works at Costco reads this, and can pass this on to HQ, I have a huge suggestion. Put really tall poles with really brightly colored plastic flags on the scooters so people can see they’re coming out of aisles to make it less dangerous when we don’t have someone out ahead of us spotting for traffic, please. 

[submitordiewhatareyoufrench]

[ihavetoomanyacronyms-blog]

The crappiest part of the fatigue from my chronic illnesses is I look around and see everything that really needs done, but I just have no energy to do it.

I constantly feel like I haven’t slept - and I don’t mean that figuratively. I wake up feeling like I didn’t sleep at all. By the time I’m ready for bed I feel like I haven’t slept in two days (and as I have insomnia that has kept me up for 2-3 days, I know the feeling well.)

The fatigue and exhaustion is just overwhelming, especially when I haven’t done anything to warrant it. Seeing everything that I need to do right there in front of me just makes me feel worse, mentally, because I know it needs done, and I know I need to do it, but I just.. I can’t. I literally cannot.

I’m hoping this stint of fatigue will ease off soon so I can get at least a little bit done. This has been going on for about a week now. It’s been so overwhelming.

That’s the worst part, honestly, of my issues. It isn’t the pain. I can live with the pain, I’ve been dealing with the chronic pain since I was 10. I’m used to it, I can push through it like you wouldn’t believe. Pain is nothing. Pain is my life.

But the fatigue? The fatigue I can’t handle. The fatigue I have no coping mechanisms for, no means of overcoming; caffeine doesn’t help, not in the least. I can cannonball 4 16 oz mugs of coffee back to back and the most that does is require a warning sign put on the bathroom door for others to not occupy it for more than 5 minutes, lol.

I wish there was a way I could better explain how crippling the fatigue is and exactly what it feels like to people who don’t have to deal with it. I know it’s so hard for people to understand how someone who doesn’t work or go to school or really do anything can be so exhausted all the time, but I am. This is a large part of WHY I don’t work, or go to school.

When the fatigue lets up, you can ask anyone in my house; I can conquer the world. But when it attacks, and God help me if there’s a Fibro flare with it, I’m down for days, weeks…sometimes even months at a time.

It really sucks.

[submitordiewhatareyoufrench]

It sucks being a spoonie :(

[waywardpsych-o]

You guys are FUCKED.

scream Michael and Lucifer from The Cage in between peels of high pitched laughter (via waywardpsych-o)

[ihavetoomanyacronyms-blog]

You know what I would really love to see? And please, if you can make this happen, feel free to use this idea, because I doubt I could make it happen, myself.

I would love to see a group photo of people with their doctor-authorized handicap placards. I would love to see, in this group photo, people in wheelchairs, people with canes, people with crutches, and whatever sort of other assistance device they may need… and along with them, people who look perfectly able-bodied. People who don’t “look” disabled. People who don’t “look sick.”  People of all ages, body types, shapes and sizes in this picture, fighting against the stigma of what a disabled person has to look like. Fighting against the stereotype that you have to have a wheelchair, or a cane, or crutches, or a walker to be disabled. 

People fail to understand that people with invisible illnesses need those placards just as much as people with visible disabilities. People fail to understand that you have to have a doctor’s authorization to be able to get those placards, they don’t just hand them out. People fail to understand that while some WILL use their relative’s placard, that these people are the minority, and that while someone looks fine, and looks healthy, and seems to be able to move with ease, that those few extra feet to walk into the building could make the difference between being able to complete the shopping trip and having to skip necessary items because of pain and exhaustion. 

We need an image like this, we need a message to be spread far and wide for all to see that disabilities can be invisible, and that people need to stop judging people for what they can’t see and can’t understand. 

[submitordiewhatareyoufrench]

THIS NEEDS TO HAPPEN. SIGNAL BOOST THIS SHIT

[ihavetoomanyacronyms-blog]

I really wish people would think before they put on fragrances. I mean, not only do people just drown themselves in them, they’re completely inconsiderate of people with fragrance sensitivity and allergies, people with asthma and copd, etc.

Y'all I know you like to smell good, I get that. But let me tell you something.

If the place you left still smells like you 2 minutes after you left, and a person with a stuffy nose can follow the trail of your fragrance across a Wal-Mart to find you, you are overdoing it.

If you are using more than one short spray of body spray like axe or what have you, you are overdoing it.

Perfume and body spray? Don’t put it on your skin, instead, spray one mist into the air and walk into it. This gets it on your skin, yes, but also gets it in your clothes and hair which retain the scent much longer.

Most importantly, don’t reapply every hour. Just because you can’t smell it anymore doesn’t mean it’s worn off. Your nose has simply adjusted to the ever present smell. Trust me, it’s still there.

People who constantly reapply their fragrances become an overwhelming cloud of smell that even non-sensitive people are put off by.

Lastly. If you are going somewhere like a hospital, doctor’s office, or any other sort of medical facility…and I cannot overstate this… DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WEAR PERFUME, BODY SPRAY, COLOGNE, USE IRISH SPRINGS BODY WASH, OR ANYTHING ELSE WITH A STRONG, LASTING FRAGRANCE.

You may be there because of an illness, injury, or a long term thing. But many, many spoonies have chemical sensitivities of varying degrees of extremes and you are literally torturing them with your smell. My mother has had to leave waiting rooms because she couldn’t breathe. She truly, literally. Could. Not. Breathe. She has allergies and COPD. She has had to use her rescue inhaler two to three times just to be able to start coughing. I myself get raging headaches and sometimes minor asthma attacks(despite not having persistent asthma since childhood) from strong fragrances.

You are legitimately endangering people’s lives, comfort, and well being. Just to smell good. Ask yourself something. If you knew someone you loved would suffer or possibly would be unable to breathe because of that spray you were putting on…would you still do it?

If the answer is no, please don’t wear them in places with high risk of encountering people with chemical and fragrance sensitivities.

Thank you.

[submitordiewhatareyoufrench]

Reblogging this again just because of how freaking important it is. 

[tinksee]

Shirtless Crowley

@crowstielean and I have decided that what Supernatural desperately needs in season 11 is a scene with shirtless Crowley.  Dean, Sam, and Cas have all gotten shirtless scenes and Crowley is a main character with his own fangirls!  We deserve a shirtless Crowley scene like he deserves to be loved, so spread the word about #shirtlessCrowley and maybe we can get enough attention to make this a reality!

[submitordiewhatareyoufrench]

YES PLEASE. 

AND FOR THE LOVE OF ROTTEN DON’T COVER UP THOSE SEXY ASS TATTOOS!