Hi all. This post has taken a while to get started, because the sheer size of what I have to type is going to be a huge burden on our shoulders and arms as they are now. So... a while back, I heard we might have EDS from our wrist doctor. At the time, I have to admit I didn't know much about it and didn't do much research on it. Our friend told us a surface-level description of EDS: It's a hypermobility disorder affecting the skin and joints, it might make one able to move their body past its natural limits, and it's generally understood as the "stretchy skin disorder".I didn't think a lot of it applied to us, but some of it certainly did. Things like joint popping and snapping, chronic pain (to some degree), and I later found out EDS can cause very smooth skin, which ironically means us being so pretty is because of this disorder. On the 9th of this month, we were having a usual affair of a day, then Sunny, out of curiosity, decided to research EDS some more, maybe figure out what typ

Hello, all. It is sunny. I just had the last surgery in this series of wrist and elbow related surgeries. The surgery went okay and I surprisingly can still bend my left elbow a little bit. They did not even give me a sling. I suppose this means it is pretty safe. Also, I still have anesthesia in my system. It is hard to write this post. But that is not why I am making this post. I want to tell you about something else that happened today. Eir uses me for pain management. This means I was switched in whenever the surgery started. And also after I woke up I was still in control of the body. The recovery period immediately after waking up led to a series of events culminating in a verbal fight and pure anger. The nurse's name is Penny. I met her when I woke up. She was trying to help me recover and in doing so, calmly and kindly helped me get some water, get my clothes on and get dressed. I had to wait for a while especially because neither my brother or my mother had arrived yet. They

CW for medical trauma Okay, fuck. Okay. Fuck. Again. I need to get this out. I need to get this out right now. I wrote about the medical trauma I lived through in my late teens in another post, but it goes further than that. For as long as I can remember, my body has not been right. Something has been wrong with it. I was always hyper-sensitive to touch. Everything hurt. In elementary school, it was so unbearable that I got into fights. And even in my youth, years and years of abuse, neglect. Being told by my family that all my sensitivities are in my head. That I'm "just sensitive". That I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I was told this by gym teachers, by staff, by other children, by my family. Nobody cared. I had constant nurse visits throughout my school life. In middle school, I had to go home sick frequently. The dickhead gym teacher turned on loud music that hurt my autism, refused to do anything to accommodate, and anytime I complained of pain, I was told, it's fine, everyo

Hi. In a lot of pain just to write this but I'd rather put this out there, it's important. Followup to my previuos two posts. I dared to hope that I would be out of my current bad situation soon. I hoped I could be helped by the spine specialist I was referred to. That my pinched arm nerves could be released and I could resume normal functioning. I was only able to write that post because I had aweek's supply of steroids keeping me going. The doctor who referred me told me it'll keep me stable until my appointment. Know what I just found out yesterday? The referral was never fucking sent. I wasted my entire week's supply of the only help I had, waiting for a bunch of inconsiderate, lazy jackasses in a cushy office to actually do their job, which they delayed for over a week. I only found out because I called insurance themselves who had never even received a referral and had no idea what I was talking about. I was furious. I immediately called my primary care office and asked that they

So just when I think I'm getting used to using both my wrists again, a few things happen. On the 26th, I randomly had a vasovagal response while calling my girlfriend and fainted on the floor painfully. The day after, I got sharp and intense stomach pains and cramps and bad head feelings until I stuffed myself full of pizza. Today, after working for several hours straight using both wrists, I suddenly had some of my original symptoms come back, ie. need to pop my wrists and sudden sharp pain when extending my arm. Why? Whats going on? So to be brief, the first two caused me no shortage of despair and fear over food stuff. I already struggle heavily with ARFID and its consequences. I've been told by many adults throughout my life that I'm starving severely, or I'm anorexic, or I'm malnutritioned. I've wondered if they were right before but this made me terrified of it. I scheduled an appointment on Monday the 3rd to get my blood tested for vitamin deficiencies. I'm hoping to replace as

Hi! Followup to a previous post, I had my nose surgery on January 3rd at the start of the new year (picture related). It was the full package. Not just any surgery. A revision rhinoplasty and septoplasty. In the surgeon's words, he had to take off my nose and build me a new one. It was many years in the making but now it's done. Recovery... is okay, I guess. I've had worse surgery recoveries for sure. The big painful thing for a while was my rib, which was grafted to build my new nose. I had a lot of pain when crunching or bending my torso, which, as it turns out, is part of a lot of basic movement. It's also just felt mildly weird sitting at my PC again, not just mentally but physically. Something about the way my head is oriented, especially with my new chair, makes me slightly... dizzy? I don't know. I hope it fades. I've experienced a pretty significant miracle though. Since surgery, I've been able to sleep. Like, deeply. I've always had severe sleep problems since I was little, si

You already know what I'm referencing. The news was devastating, greatly distressing, and sickening. Several of my friends had anxious spirals and lost control. I ended up taking a few naps to sleep through the worst of it. It still doesn't feel real. It still doesn't feel like that just happened. I'm in shock, maybe even denial. Honestly, half the reason I've managed to hang on for as long as I have is because I've been suppressing a lot of extremely distressing things. Thoughts about my physical health and the state of my nose, of misophonia, of whether or not I have an undiagnosed personality disorder. Thoughts of relationships, past and present, of who I feel comfortable being around, of if I'm "drifting" from my friends or if I'll eventually leave everyone I meet. And most importantly, thoughts of real life things - panic over not being able to hold any job that requires interacting with people due to my misophonia, over only having 2 years left to figure out my health before I'm

(CW: Injury, body horror, mentions of surgery, self-injury) 2003 A little kid gets on his tricycle. He's riding around outside. His mom is watching nearby. It seems like a normal day. That is, until the trike hits a snag in the concrete, sending the boy tumbling off the side. His nose smashes clean into the pavement. He's just lying there looking up. The mom rushes over and helps, taking him inside and getting him cleaned up. It hurt a lot, but surely it would be fine. Over the next few weeks, he starts to have trouble breathing through his nose. It hurts more and more every day. At one point he curiously pries open a nostril with two fingers in front of the mirror. There's some kind of gross, fleshy something inside. With no idea what to do, he tells his mom and tries to show her, but it's ultimately fruitless. 2009 The boy's more sapient now, and attending primary school. He hasn't thought about that accident in years. But it's brought back to the front of his mind when other kids ar

Trans Texans are no longer allowed to change name and gender on an ID and will be added to a list if they try. Why do I even bother. I paid $350 4 months ago just to be repeatedly kept in the dark and given conflicting information on my court order, ending with being completely barred from changing my name and gender altogether. What was the point of this. What the hell.

In my last post, I detailed my struggles with home construction, sensory overload, and the various ways in which I was struggling with my new home life. As it turns out, it wasn't that bad. The thick wall separating my room from my brother's turned out to block most of the keyboard noise. Moving my stuff was a lot less emotionally painful than I anticipated, and they weren't even working that day. In fact, they did my entire room the next day, start to finish, in one sitting, so time wasn't an issue either. A few days later I comfortably moved back to my original, now-empty room, and set up my rig again. But then, you know what happened? A HURRICANE came in. Out of nowhere I started seeing these weather reports for an upcoming hurricane called Beryl. I'd been through hurricanes before - Ike, Harvey. I didn't remember having any real difficulty or loss from them. So I thought nothing of it. In fact, my mom said we were in the outer areas of the storm's reach, so it would barely even tou