Roadkill Says Stuff - Tumblr Posts - Page 3
Well, back home after another visit to the Emergency Room. As expected, the bloodwork came back saying that I’m actually perfectly fine. After sitting around for like three hours and occasionally being told to “calm down” and “try to stay positive” by a nurse, I’m still in just as much pain. The only thing that’s changed is that I’m also pissed off, which is why I’m not screaming and crying anymore.
I’m beginning to wonder why I even waste my time talking to doctors when they all seem to have the same capacity for rational thought, listening skills, and common sense as a carrot.
Actually, I take that back. That was a mean and unnecessary thing to say. Carrots are at least useful and have never gone out of their way to make me miserable or invalidated. Carrots are wonderful, actually. Probably smarter than most, if not all of the doctors I’ve met, not to mention better for my health.
When all you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. When all you have is a portal gun, every problem looks like a puzzle.
Yes, I’m still obsessed with Portal. This cake is great, by the way
It’s getting bad again. The pain is always worse at night, when I don’t have as many things to distract myself with. I think I pulled every muscle in both legs. Hurt my knees and ankles, too. Of course. Just my luck that my joints are more flexible than they should be and that I was born with low muscle tone. And sensory issues, which essentially force my brain to focus on the fact that I’m in pain, making little to no room for thinking clearly.
All this because I tried to get some exercise. More than 24 hours ago.
I fucking hate everything right now
My knees hate me. Actually, my whole body hates me, but my knees seem to be extra hateful today
Umm. Why are there taxidermy bats on Amazon?! Bats are a protected group of animals, meaning that the only place you should be able to find taxidermy of them is museums. The fact that they’re on Amazon means that Amazon is selling illegally obtained animals, likely poached. Sellers will claim that they “found” a bat and decided to turn it into a taxidermy piece. That’s bullshit.
I’m not surprised that Amazon is selling illegal items, it’s just awful that they’re selling taxidermy of animals that are legally protected.
Do NOT buy these items. If you want a bat, please just buy a plushie. It’s legal and doesn’t encourage poaching.
Slight correction: Not every bat species has legal protections, but Amazon didn’t specify what species was being sold.
Wishing that my mom would stop trying to give me advice when I talk about how much pain I’m in. Like, no, it’s not dehydration. Going to bed earlier won’t cure my chronic pain.
Screaming and crying in agony for two nights in a row because I tried to exercise and ended up pulling every muscle in both legs. Taking days off work and wondering how many days I can take off before I get fired. Indirectly being called lazy by my mom, who thinks that I have a sensory processing issue rather than the reality that no, I’m not imagining this pain.
Spending so much time in my room. Not because I’m “lazy,” but because walking is hell. She claims that I’m on my computer too much. Okay. When’s the last time I was on it for more than an hour? At least a month. Because my hands and wrists are killing me constantly.
She wants me to know how to do stuff on my own, but never has the time to teach me anything. Gets mad at me for not knowing things that I was never taught. Mad at me for not being able to read her mind. For being “rude,” when I can’t actually control the tone of my voice. Like, come on. You literally work with autistic kids for a living. You should know at least SOMETHING about autism, then.
She just. Doesn’t listen. Ever. It’s always a fight. I talk about how I felt abandoned as a kid and she gets mad at me for “calling her a shitty mother.” No. I said that my child-brain felt abandoned and alone because I was the one standing up for you when my dad treated you like an object. I spent the majority of my childhood hiding from my dad and brother, and you spent all that time rolling over and doing what you were told.
Stop saying you understand my pain. You don’t know what it’s like to watch your health decline, to wonder how long it’ll be before you don’t have the strength to get out of bed. To wonder if you have the mental capacity to care about your own death, because you accepted the inevitably of death when you were six years old.
But I can’t tell her that. Because then I’m the one being cruel
ITS NOT MT FAULT THAT IM SICK
I’m just so fucking tired of being expected to know what to do, while having no idea what to do. Tired of being treated like shit, then being accused of being the abuser here. You think I want to live like this?!
You don’t think my health is deteriorating? How many times have I been to the Emergency Room in the last couple of months?
You think I’m trying to control your life? When’s the last time I was allowed to make a decision regarding my own body?
You think I’m self-sabotaging? Well, yeah, no shit. But thanks for giving me absolutely no advice on how to fix that. Not my fault that every time I get my hopes up, everything goes to shit.
You want me to talk to you more? Then stop making it about you whenever I say how I feel. It’s not that complicated. All you have to do is SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN FOR ONCE
So, while at the grocery store, doing normal things and getting groceries, I felt phantom claws. Nothing weird. Except that they were dragon claws. And also teeth. And a tail. So that’s weird. I mean, I don’t think I’m a dragon. But if I am a dragon, I’m some kind of undead/cyborg/steampunk dragon-thing. So I’ll probably be up all night thinking about this new discovery. So, you know, normal things that go on in my brain.
On the one hand, it’s validating for the doctor to give me a working diagnosis of fibromyalgia. Because that’s what I’ve been saying is the most likely thing that I have. But on the other, it’s terrifying. Because it’s incurable and very difficult to treat.
Will be getting tested for other possible illnesses in about a month.
It’s so surreal to have a doctor actually listen to the words I’m saying. I’m not used to that
The doctor told me that stress and anxiety can and will cause flare-ups and therefore more pain. That’s great. I’ve got CPTSD and two anxiety disorders. Stress isn’t something I notice most of the time, because it’s a constant state of being.
Great to know that my incurable mental illnesses will make my incurable physical illness worse. Fantastic. Pretty sure I heard something like that in seventh grade. Still no idea what to do about it.
But at least I have a somewhat official diagnosis now. A pice of paper that says I’m not okay. I always knew I wasn’t okay, but I need the paper for others to believe me.
Now that I think about it, I’ve wasted so much time trying to prove things to others. Trying to make them see and understand my pain. Only to realize that they never will. They can’t. And how could they? They wake up feeling rested; I wake up feeling exhausted. They remember happy moments of childhood; I measure time in traumatic events. They have people they can count on; I have more mental illnesses than friends.
They can’t see the pain behind my eyes, because I was told to hide it as a kid. I never learned how to take that mask off. I’ll be faking until the day I die, probably.
I don’t know who I am without my illnesses. What if I do somehow get fixed? What then? Who will I be? Because I’m nothing. A mask with nothing behind it.
I can’t even be myself when I’m alone. I’ll never trust anyone, least of all me. And whose fault is that? I barely remember the worst events of my life. That’s probably for the best
I love dinosaurs. I love how I went from taking “Jurassic Park” as fact, to learning about how inaccurate it is, to reading the (equally inaccurate) novel. I’ve been collecting dinosaur figurines for years and have become increasingly picky with the accuracy and quality of them. I went from figurines to nonfiction books about dinosaurs and other prehistoric animals, to collecting fossil replicas, to having a very small collection of real fossils (which I will never stop bragging about).
I am the “autistic person who never grew out of the dinosaur phase” stereotype. And I’m damn proud of it.
And if anyone cares to know, my favorite species include Allosaurus, Tyrannosaurus, Suchomimus, Utahraptor, and Spinosaurus (whatever that one actually looked like).
Also, if anyone can tell me where to find a good quality Utahraptor claw replica, please tell me.
This empty feeling. Does it ever go away? I’ve got nothing to live for, and nothing to die for. Nothing at all. I’m just sick. Sick of crying myself to sleep night after night. Feeling so fucking tired all the time. No amount of caffeine could ever make a dent in this exhaustion. I hate being around people, but I hate being alone. I’m so sick of waking up alone. But I know it’s for the best.
I just want to feel normal for a day. Not in pain. Not terrified. Not shaking with fear or rage. Not questioning my existence. I just want to know what it would be like to not have this empty feeling in my chest. To not feel like a time bomb.
I don’t know which is worse. Having someone or being alone. It’s a nightmare either way.
I don’t want to die. I just… don’t really care one way or the other most of the time.
I know that whatever my exact illness is, it isn’t “that bad.” As in, it’s not going to kill me. It just feels like I’m dying most days. And some days I couldn’t care less about that.
But tomorrow will be the same as today. I’ll get up, go to work, and mask until I go to bed. Then the feelings will come rushing back and all I’ll want to do is cease to exist. I don’t know how to change. I don’t know who I am without my sickness. These monsters in my mind are the only ones who have never left me.
I just want to be okay. Even just for a minute. Sixty seconds of peace. Is that too much to ask for?
So, you’re telling me that there are people in this world who wake up feeling rested? Whose joints might be slightly stiff in the morning, but end up feeling okay later in the day? People who aren’t in pain all the time?
I don’t believe that. They must be faking being “okay.” I simply cannot fathom the idea of feeling like that.
It’s funny to see other alterhumans talking about how they want to be able to curl up in the way that a lot of animals (mostly canines) do when they sleep sometimes. I can more or less do that with my spine, but I stopped because it’s not how spines are supposed to bend. Whoops.
For context: my body is abnormally flexible and it causes all sorts of problems. Most of the hyper-flexibility is in my ankles, but I can almost curl up like a dog. It’s not a super comfortable position, given the problems associated with bending my spine in a way it isn’t meant to go. Remember, just because your body can bend a certain way, does not mean that it should.
Guide to Recovery
Below is a link to a google doc I made on my experience with dealing with self-harm and how I work every day to recover. It is in no way a complete guide, nor am I a professional in any way. It's just my experience. If you have anything you believe should be added, feel free to tell me.
I did not include any images in the document, and will not put in any. This is for two reasons. One, because I don't want to trigger anyone. That's the opposite of my goal here. And two, because I'm not good at writing image ID's, and I want to make it easy for those who use screen readers. If you have suggestions regarding the formatting, font size, and other aspects, tell me and I will do what I can to improve this guide.
Dragon eye thing I found at the craft store. I get shifts where it feels like my eyes look like this, so I simply had to buy it. Still not totally sure what exactly I am, and starting to think I’m some kind of shapeshifter, but I know that there’s something about yellow eyes with vertical slit pupils that just feel right
Most of Corpse’s songs hit different when you’re chronically ill. You can feel the pain in his voice, the fear that there might not be a tomorrow. The rage at how unfair it all is.
Especially songs like “Cabin Fever,” “Agoraphobic,” and “Life Waster”
It’s really just starting to hit me now. I wanted a diagnosis so that people would believe me, but having it also means that the doctor is confirming my worst fears. That no, I’m not going to just wake up and be okay. This isn’t some cruel joke that the universe is playing on me.
There are medications and treatments for “pain management,” but that doesn’t mean “making the pain go away.” It means “making it somewhat more bearable.” And based on my track record with meds, I doubt that it’ll do much, if anything.
The crushing reality hit me on the way back home from work today.
I’m always going to be in pain. Until the day I die. And there’s nothing I can do about it. I am sick. And there is no cure.
My mom: How are you?
Me: I’m not okay and I’m never going to be and I want to cry. I mean, uhh, I’m alright. Yeah. Totally fine. Just… uhh… tired. Yeah. Tired. That’s all.
I don’t blame her for not being able to understand. I just want to wake up feeling well-rested for once. To feel… alive.
Me when my therapist doesn’t believe that it’s possible to be a system without having DID but she believes me when I talk about my past lives. Like, what? Excuse me?
Moth (the angry one, check my pinned post for more details there) was just SCREAMING that whole time I was having that conversation.
Like, no questions when I say I have specific memories of two distinct past lives, either. Totally believes me on that.
She thinks that Ilerei is a personification of my compassion and Moth is a personification of my anger. If that’s the case, why would I give it the name Moth? Like, sorry, buddy, but that’s not even that cool of a name. They’re not original characters I just made up. I mean, I’m not sure if I made Ilerei, but she’s become a part of me. And after like two years of being in denial I’ve accepted the fact that I’m part of a system. And my fucking therapist just goes “uhh, nope, you’re wrong.”
So, umm, yeah. I’m really just venting and trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do about this.