i am so hungry esp for chips and salsa or just 7-layer delightful scrumptious grease nachos, but i also feel so nauseous i may vom if i try to eat
in fact i had some “alfredo” pasta like an hour ago but i still feel like it may just resurface
i’m thinking this may have something to do with going back on prozac this morning MY BODY IS REJECTING IT
but then i also felt really hungry/sick last night so idk what my bod’s problem is
i am going to tw this for vomit because i know right now that if i see anything about vom i will also vom
yep, i have narcolepsy
i am having the absolute worst day
i left my wallet in an academic building
fortunately a little angel picked it up and is going to leave it at vcu police
but tonight i am on a tight schedule so waiting until 7 to go get it is not an easy task for me because i haven’t eaten all day
fortunately dylan is also a little angel and is getting me food
i am such a fucking dingus and i am crying because i am so upset today sucked
i can’t handle stress when i am off meds~ takes away all of my defense mechanisms
also i’ve been off prozac for 2 weeks now by the direction of the sleep center because they thought prozac was maybe causing my sleep problems
so i am getting a sleep study done tomorrow night
so far it looks like i might have narcolepsy without cataplexy
maybe hypersomnia though
either way i’m so excited to be treated because whatever sleep disorder i have has eaten up at least the past 5 years of my life, has ruined my fucking life and made me feel like a generally shitty human being for my inability to function as i’m “supposed” to
and tbh this sleep disorder has caused me to think passively about suicide about as often as, if not more often than body dysmorphia has
PLEASE REBLOG, I WOULD LIKE A DISCUSSION
I think the sapiiosexual orientation is necessarily ableist. It refers to attraction to intelligence. Can we discuss this?
I think if it isn’t ableist…
I feel like saying sapiosexuality is ableist is like saying being attracted to men is misogynistic. Being not attracted to people isn’t really discriminatory to them. Plus, isn’t it also bad to assume that intelligence is necessarily disconnected from mental illness?
I feel like saying its a fashion choice is really bad to say. It feels like when people say demisexuality is inherently slut shaming.
> I feel like saying sapiosexuality is ableist is like saying being attracted to men is misogynistic
This comparison is weird.
> Being not attracted to people isn’t really discriminatory to them
Oh really? So someone who felt sorry for me being in a chair and didn’t want sex with me isn’t discriminating aganst me?
This conversation intrigues me. Kylie is right.
I’m still learning about this, and I’m going to read up on it and find out a better, less oppressive way to define the ways in which I look at sexual attraction.
In the meantime, to sort out my thoughts on this, I’m going to write a thing here walking through why I once (ngl, earlier today) thought it was a “good” idea to identify as sapiosexual (which, I mean, I haven’t read anything more than this thread about it, but I’m thinking that identifying as sapiosexual means identifying as ableist but also usually racist and classist and that is not cool) and why it was always a bad idea. You can skip this and not read it if you want because it’s probably going to be me just typing a lot of disorganized things. Really, I’m only trying to organize my brain the way I would if I were having a conversation.
i am off of prozac at least until the 26th by doctor’s orders because i’m getting a sleep study
my mom and dad both called me to tell me that they care about me and to check up on how i’m feeling (devastatingly tired but otherwise okay) <3
- prof: so when you graduating?
- me: probs december. it's been a long run.
- prof: well you know you're the kind of student we profs like to hold back because we don't want you to leave.
- me: ~*~ TRUE ~*~
- me: i mean thanks
- prof: *leaves*
i got ruffy 19 years ago, in december 1994. i was chasing my little sister rachael around hess’s department store because i thought she was going to shoplift a fozzy bear rattle so i chased her and then tripped and hit my head on a shelf corner. i had to go to the hospital and get stitches on my forehead. my mom bought him for me as a gift to make me feel better because before i hurt myself i had told her i wanted him. i still have the scar on my forehead too.
his best friend, pepper, was a gift i received for my third birthday, in august 1993, from my great-aunt kay and her husband jim. i was so excited to get a stuffed kitten for my birthday that i grabbed her and rolled on the floor holding her in my arms. i named her after our fat cat, pepper, who was striped black and white. today i accidentally put her in the washer with my sheets but i suspect she’d been washed before. at first i felt kind of bad when i found her tangled in my sheets and didn’t want to put her in the dryer but i did it anyway and you know, at least she’s not covered in my adult drool anymore.
guess how many times i have had sex in my bed in the past 6 months
i will tell you the number
i dreamt that you had actually been alive for the past year; i had misinterpreted your mom’s text messages! but now you had it real bad; you were sick and you were dying and i was in paris trying on vintage clothes on sale and there was nothing that i could do about it, to see you
and i woke up shaken because i was wrong because it was a dream but i am in love with someone and you are dead and i think that is the reason i want the closest closeness, never to leave, always sad to leave, always sad at space, scared to take journeys, because i make myself disgusting for the people i love and then i get scared, and nobody has ever opened themselves fully to me and told me all of the little secrets, shown me all of their pores, including you, especially you, and i need that to happen so that if death ever happens again to someone i want to love or do love i can turn their form over and over in my hands, tangible, and say at least i knew something about them instead of them leaving a big blank space in my head and in my heart, more than a question mark, i don’t know and also how did you love me, why, and did you love me really
of course you loved me really, once, sincerely
thank you at least for reminding me of the poetry behind reason that i act like a brat when i have to go home, spend some time alone, lonely alone
I try not to let anyone help me with my problems but then when they inevitably spin out of my control, I break down and my parents get very scared that I let things go so long.
And then I have to let them fix my problems for me.
But I’m a grown-up and I act (I feel) irresponsibly and no one should have to help me with problems I created. I should have to bear these things as my own burden.
I mean the only person I feel okay with showing the extent of my anxiety to is my mom, and that’s not even fair. But I need help.
Basically I am very anxious right now about money things and health things that cost money. I need a better job so I can make more money and fend for myself.
my evening was basically crying to my mom on the phone about financial problems, mental health issues, and about how i want to lose weight via unhealthy means
good night, right
So I wrote what I think was a really ugly and overly honest piece on my own body dysmorphia. I had to present it to the class and really freaked out. I got back my copies today; all but four were absolutely blank.
On one of them, someone had underlined, “Magic cards, empty cans of Tecate” and wrote “hell yeah” over it, then later underlined “pickled jalepenos” and also wrote “hell yeah” over that.
On another, someone wrote a recommendation for a quotation I could use from an essay we read for class.
The third had a few underlined words, but I couldn’t make sense of the underlined parts; they were placed without commentary. I think it’s the kid who always got on other people’s asses about repetition (they underlined “would” three times in the first paragraph, which, come on, verb tense).
The fourth, though. ”First: You are beautiful. Second: This is an honest piece. Don’t lose that, use it. I’d hate to see this end with a bow wrapped around some trite platitudes about loving yourself. Use the dysmorphia as an anchor for growth and scale.”
I don’t know who wrote it but whoever did: Thank you. Because it’s scary, a lot of times, to show other people just how much I hate myself. I fear that they will be repelled by my self-hatred, as they sometimes are. Few people can wrap their minds around it, and a lot of people think it’s something I can just brush off and “get over” but you know, those are the people who either don’t know or choose to ignore that I’ve hated myself since I was 7. Thank you for not minimizing this, and thank you for encouraging me to continue writing in honesty.
Is this thing I’m feeling…happiness?
I feel like I’m slipping out of neutrality and into a place where I’m actually becoming comfortable with myself (despite my constant self-loathing) and with my life and where I’m at with friends. And reaching out to make new friends.
I am so rarely happy. It’s weird to feel like this.