i drew granny again but this time shes flying around using the aro and ace flags as a cape bc shes aroace. “but she wouldnt do that theyre too colorful it would mess with her aesthetic” shhhhhhhh irrelevant
OK, see, here’s the thing. Most people with chronic illness wait years to get a proper diagnosis. They know what we undiagnosed peeps are going through. They can empathize with the worry, the frustration, the impatience, the hope and hopelessness roller coaster. They get it.
But I don’t think a lot of healthy people quite understand.
Just because my illness hasn’t been named yet, it doesn’t mean I’m healthy.
Not knowing WHY I have symptoms doesn’t make the symptoms go away. It doesn’t mean I’m not dealing with a lot of shit.
And I’m dealing with this shit not sure where to turn for support (not a lot of support groups for “I dunno, but shit’s going sideways”). I’m dealing with this with no treatment options. The best I can do is try to manage my symptoms with everyday, at-home methods (that may or may not make any bit of difference).
I’m dealing with an unpredictable and often debilitating mystery illness. I’m going to doctor appointment after doctor appointment and test after test and having to explain my medical history over and over again which drains what little energy I had left.
So…
If someone you know says they’re sick, and they’ve been sick for months or years…for the sake of all that is good and beautiful in this world, just believe them.
If someone you know is sick and they don’t know what they have, just trust them that while they may not know the name of their illness, they most certainly do know how it affects them and what they can and can’t handle doing (even if that changes from day to day).
If someone you know is struggling with a chronic mystery illness and you want to be a good, supportive friend just be T.H.E.R.E. for them.
T– trust them when they say they’re sick
H– help if they want your help (but don’t always wait to be asked for help, offer specific tasks you can do like unload the dishwasher, or take their dog for a walk)
E– expect nothing (if they want to talk about their health, listen, but nobody owes you their private medical history)
R– respect their limits (if they say they can or can’t do something, believe them)
E– endure (no matter how many times plans get cancelled last minute, not matter how long diagnosis takes, no matter how frustrating you are by their limits, I promise it’s even more frustrating for them so be patient)
Also, pro tip: DON’T TELL THEM WHAT YOU THINK THEY HAVE AND HOW TO FIX IT WITH YOGA/GREEN SMOOTHIES/REIKI/WHATEVER.
not my typical topic but this is Exactly what i’m going thru and its too relatable not to share
who would win in a fight: an army of lush employees vs an army of bath and body works employees??? discuss
lush employees, who are more adept at guerrilla warfare and fabian tactics. bath and body works employees rely too much on pitched battle and are not equipped well enough for prolonged conflict
I disagree with some of that, I feel as though the Bath and Body Works employees are pretty well trained in the art of handling an all out attack. Their defenses are high and well coordinated. Remember, they deal with white moms on the daily, whereas I feel that Lush employees are more used to dealing with a younger generation of customers.I feel as though they’d be equally matched but in the end I feel with the advancement in technology that Lush possesses over Bath and Body Works in terms of sheer amount that they sell, ultimately Lush wins, but not without heavy casualties.
All true, but everyone is forgetting Bath and Body Works employees have extreme training dealing with the hell on Earth that is Semi Annual Sale. Have you ever seen someone come between a white woman in her 40s and Vanilla Bean Noel at 75% off? Bath and Body Works employees have and still live to tell their stories
I think terrain is an important consideration? Lush employees are better at straight melee since they’re used to fighting in close quarters, whereas B&BW employees have more experience in moving through wider terrain and using ranged attacks.
hell is your room in the dead of night and forgotten lyrics to songs that once felt like our entire soul
hell is wandering the trailer park at one in the morning with a cold can of ginger ale in your hand and no shoes on, staring into the trees and getting this strange notion that something is dragging you in.
Hell is sitting on the fire escape stairs and filling your body with poison while remembering how many friends you’ve pushed away.
Hell is looking into the eyes of those you care about and realizing they’ve always been that cold.
hell is knuckle deep in the ashes of the city you burned burned burned to the ground as you try to find the remnants of what once was before the fire came
hell is crying my eyes out underneath the stars, screaming out questions that will never be heard or answered, feeling this sinking feeling that the rest of your life will not get any better
hell is realizing that this place is a truly dog-eat-dog world, with even ones you thought as friends disappearing faster than you can kill them
hell is walking through the doors of the home you thought you’d burned down, wearing a smile and looking at all the masks that greet you
Hell is the first time you question if when he says “I love you,” he really means it, and the doubt that creeps over your mind as you ask yourself again and again.
hell is a constancy of sickness with just enough coherency to remember how it all fell apart over and over and over
HELL IS THE PERFECT ENVIRONMENT FOR GROWING POMEGRANATES AND I WILL STEAL AS MANY AS MY SPINDLY SKELETON ARMS AS I CAN CARRY
hell is a four hour stopover in the detroit airport: don’t give up even if you miss your connecting flight, you can get to heaven, take a bus, hitchhike, walk if you have to, heaven is like iceland but you can get there by crawling if you want it bad enough
just moving along like everyone else 