#trigger: vomit

[askshadandsilv]

Shadow placed a hand over his stomach and the other on his mouth. He rushed to the bathroom, dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and vomited into it. He coughed hard as Silver poked his head into the bathroom. 

“You alright Shads?”

Before the dark hedgehog could respond, he vomited again. “ACK! No. Something’s wrong.” He coughed hard once more. “I feel...off...” He panted hard. “Something is happening to me.”

[sunmontuewrites]

Sometimes people (in this case my husband) are obtuse. I went out last night for dinner with a couple of friends - get a text message about 7.15pm saying Max has vomited. Not cool. It nothing he can’t deal with.

Another text at 8.30, he’s vomited again. I take pleasure in the fact I don’t have to deal with it.

Home and in bed and 3.20am he vomits again and I go. Have a look and am alarmed to see what I suspect is blood in Max’s vomit.

Mention this to husband and he’s like ‘oh yeah, it was like that the last two times.’ So I’m annoyed because this is a bit more serious than your usual run-of-the-mill vomiting so I bundle Max up and head to A&E (which was empty so we got seen immediately).

He’s fine - likely got a tear in his esophagus and has been given meds to stop the vomiting. However I’ve been given a list of things to keep a watch for because it could be more serious. 😟

[remfaust]

My financial situation became rather apparent when I was incredibly ill last night. As I was throwing up my soul, I was becoming very angry with myself and the fact that I was essentially wasting the 11$ I spent to make dinner.

Please by Tshirts

https://www.bonfire.com/peace-love-husky-hugs/

[stressedinthemarginalia]

This morning I went to the orthodontist to get my braces removed, and in the waiting room my mom put her fitbit on my arm to measure my heartrate... her’s was a constant 68, and mine rose constantly up to 103 (beats per minute). Sooooo that was alarming. Then after I actually got them off I had to get impressions done and I thought the lower arc was bearable, and then the lady who was doing it literally told me “oh yeah people have literally had panic attacks over getting the top arc done” RIGHT BEFORE SHE PUT IT IN MY MOUTH. It literally went so far back in my throat that I gagged and then I started thinking about vomit and then I almost had a panic attack. I literally couldn’t breathe at all; it was so terrible. Now I’m just sitting here and I can’t do my work because my chest hurts so badly and it hurts to exert effort into breathing.

[ethan--blake]

What You Gonna Do When I'm Gone? || Solo Para

Ethan turned the shower head off in the bathroom and pulled the shower curtain to the side. The bathroom was covered in a cloud of steam and he had to grope the wall to find his towel. After the stressful conversations he had had in the past few days, he needed a few minutes to himself. Wrapping his towel around his hips, Ethan tried to climb out of the shower. Being just his luck however, his foot caught on the edge of the tub and sent him flying to the ground. He landed on the same shoulder that he had when he fell down the stairs earlier that day. Covering his mouth, Ethan let out a moan in pain. Everything hurt more than it usually would. His vision faltered for a moment and he had to fight to catch his breath. Hopefully he hadn't woken Heidi up. She was just down the hall and he didn't want to have to start lying to her already about what he had done.

Turning his attention back to the mirror, Ethan turned his body so that he could see his back in the reflection. His jaw dropped when he noticed that his back was covered in the long, slender purpling lines. "What the fuck.." Ethan mumbled to himself. Where were the purple marks from? Raising his left hand to his face when he came to the realization, he let out a quiet groan. They weren't purple lines. They were bruises. From Heidi. Counting on his fingers, he realized that it had been 5 days since he had taken the genetic code. "Five days and my body's already reacting negatively..." Before Ethan could truly process the information he had just recently encoded, he felt a wave of nausea flood all of his senses. Ethan moved his body as fast as he could to the toilet that was to the right of the sink. He made it just in time, for he practically threw up his stomach into the bathroom.

It felt like he had been throwing up for over an hour. Just when he thought that the nauseous feeling had surpassed, another wave hit Ethan and it would start all over again. By the time he had it all out of his system, he was throwing up nothing but a green-yellow bile. Wiping the excess bile off his chin, he tried to lift himself off the floor, but felt his arms give out from his extensive weight. Ethan hit his chin off the ceramic toilet and bit down on his tongue.

Laying on his back, his towel still hanging off his hips - though barely so - Ethan just groaned in pain. It didn't matter what Paul said, he could feel his body giving out on him already. Raising both of his hands to his face, Ethan covered his mouth and silenced the sobs he could feel beginning to escape from his body. He was going to go through this alone. He was going to die alone. And what was worst of all what there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He was going to die, and he was going to leave his sister alone. She had just began to trust him. Just began to open up to him and he was going to leave her to fend for herself. And Heidi... While Ben, Renee, and Paul had all brought her and their future children up, it didn't truly hit Ethan until this moment. His mind faltered for a second and he imagined Heidi crying over his dead body. She would probably lose their children from devastation and then she would have nothing. Nothing to remind her of him.

At that thought, Ethan forced all thoughts out of his mind and just let his muffled sobs fill his ears. He couldn't move. He was like he was being suffocated by his own emotions and he couldn't breathe. It wasn't the genetic code doing this to him anymore. It was his own mind attack his body, drowning himself in his tears and memories of things that would never come.

[dftreaper]

I'VE HAD THE NASTIEST HEADACHE FOR LIKE FOUR HOURS

AND IT REALLY MAKES ME WANT TO THOW-UP

CAN THAT HAPPEN

LIKE, I HAVEN'T ACTUALLY PUKED IN LIKE, ELEVEN YEARS AND I WOULD REALLY LOVE IT IF I COULD JUST UP-CHUCK AND GET RID OF THIS NASTY FUCKING FEELING

PLEASE AND THANK YOU

[ravenshiddensoul-blog]

Personal emetophobic Hellish-feeling vent post.

Goodnight, I love you all, and try not to let me connect with you because I haven't figured out how to stop projection/broadcast yet.

I hope you sleep better than I will...

...

...I'll probably come back on later because I'm too energetic, my entire body is numb-tingling, and I'm afraid. "Stop it. Stop it. STOP it. It could be worse, and it WILL be worse if you don't calm down." But I can't. So... I need distraction. I need to not think about it - the sickening feeling, this dizziness, paralyzing terror, 'what if it happens again'...

...no, you know what, if I lie down I'll feel worse. It'll be *hours* before my stomach settles /nearly/ enough to let me lay down without crying.

...damn it all, the licorice was supposed to HELP!

Anise candies. Raniditine. Peppermint tea.

And it still won't let me go!

What is WRONG with me? And why is the only doctor I can trust so little educated on gastrenterology? The one doctor I like, I trust, I don't feel incredibly guarded talking to or feel like I have to force myself to admit to suffering with gritted teeth... He's only the general practitioner. After the third visit he said "I think we need to get you in to see a specialist." Oh, great. THAT'S reassuring.

And then they push (and push and push and PUSH) the same meds he tried, when all those medications are doing is making me worse, and worse, and WORSE.

I want a doctor who LISTENS.

But every freaking gastroenterologist insists I know nothing about what my own stomach is doing and proclaims I have "acid reflux."

DESPITE the facts that the endoscopy shows gastritis [very common cause of nausea] and esophagitis [how do you spell it?], and I keep explaining that... things like tonight happen, that's WHY I have erosion. I don't get heartburn or "acid reflux" until you put me on those freaking medications and my body's trying to compensate. I never, NEVER had heartburn until they put me on whatever-they-are, acid-pump inhibitors and everything else on that list.

And the nausea, this cursed NAUSEA... gods, I just want it to stop... I want to stop panicking after every third meal and I want to stop struggling to sleep through the night, I want to stop waking up sick and I want to stop feeling dizzy every four weeks because my freaking X-chromosome won't give me a break and the hormones only make matters worse, so I end up dry-retching three times a day even if all I ate for twelve hours was a piece of toast with some jelly and even if nothing beyond that happens, my body responds as if it did and I'm rendered aching, pained, and exhausted.

Eating isn't something you should need to feel /brave/ about.

And I want to be able to dream about people that make me happy without my physical body altering my dreams.

Do you have any idea how many of my better dreams are turned right back into nightmares because my subconscious decides, "Oh, the stomach's getting upset again - let's make that part of the dream"?

...oh. Look. Tumblr has now been exposed the the freaking INSANITY that is my digestive life. (These rants won't happen often, I promise. I'm just... so incredibly frustrated, and in disbelief, horror, terror, fear... Emetophobia, it doesn't make a good combination with a pathetically easy-to-upset stomach. ...actually, I've concluded the REASON I'm emetophobic is because this happens so OFTEN. And I don't even need a reason!

The Magical Combination of Hatred, Terror, Pain, and Disgust seems to be people, "being female", no meditation, and some sort of leftover stress.

...Oh, you mean living life?

...Genuinely, just fuck my life, please.

I want out of this body. But I'm too weak to Explore/Travel.

Damn it.

Just...

...damn.