SRS: Blue- PSA about people needing to tag for triggers rather than getting upset.
When someone asks you to tag for a trigger
The correct response is not an onslaught of rage
Have some goddamn decency
Don’t understand why? I recommend Trigger Warnings and Why You Should Use Them by Zera.
Source: warlocksexalways
SRS: mild Yellow- tw at link
Zera and I started a hub! This is our first article.
Now I have to get a bit serious guys. This hub was started because we need money and are at risk of being homeless. So while I wouldn’t feel right asking for donations (since I can never donate myself), I would ask you to view the page because viewing the page will get us money. Please boost this as much as possible.
Also, this is just a really good article and it’d be awesome if you read it.
SRS: Yellow- a person who has skin conditions and scars getting body negative comments
First of all, I really agree with your excellent post about Socially Accepted Body Privilege. It’s my personal belief, also, that certain things that are neither weight nor disability-related - things like having vitiligo, psoriasis, even sometimes large or large/noticeable scars on one’s body, also affect one’s societal privilege to a lesser extent. I have pretty profuse scarring covering my shoulders and arms because of an obsessive-compulsive condition, and though I don’t experience all of the Socially Accepted Body problems, I do often experience the stares, unpleasant comments, inability to wear a swimsuit, and being perceived as less attractive. I also have to buy clothing that hides my scars and wounds so I don’t scratch them when I get stressed out. I think people with large scars or other skin conditions might agree to the similar feelings of awkwardness and having a ‘wrong’ body.
As you emphasized before, people tend to associate being thin with automatically having a body that is also socially-acceptable in other ways, which is entirely not true. Even those without technical physical disabilities experience problems due to not having socially acceptable bodies.
Actually, my point was that all thin is not acceptable. It’s only certain types of thin that are accepted. But this is a good point, too. ^^
SRS: Blue
TW: food triggers, mentions of eating disorders
I just deleted the post with the cinnamon roll recipe. For those who still want it, the original is here: http://nothingaboutus-withoutus.tumblr.com/post/26479858572/smidgetz-cinnabon-cinnamon-rolls-dont-ask
I tagged it with nausea warning, but that wasn’t efficient enough and someone sent me a message telling me they were triggered. I couldn’t cut the image because it was a photo reblog, so I decided to just delete the post.
I’m sorry to anyone else who was triggered. I’ll be more careful about this in the future.
SRS: Blue- One PWD needing something that triggers the other PWD
tw: hidden cameras recording you without your will (even in the bedroom and bathroom), finding those recordings online, child abuse, not compromising, consent issues
My husband is disabled. He has moderately severe auditory processing difficulties, as well as major memory issues that effect his day to day life. We have the same conversations over and over again, because he can’t hold onto anything I (or anyone else) say. He struggles at work and he struggles at home.
He has begun dealing with this by using 24/7 audio and visual recording of his personal surroundings; while at work, on the street in public, and at home with me. He says this is necessary for his survival, and will not compromise it for anyone.
I am disabled too. I have PTSD from several terrible events in my life. Including my father, who had video and audio recording equipment hidden all around the house, including in my bedroom and bathroom. I STILL sometimes find video of myself, recorded without my knowledge or consent, posted on the internet. The thought of being recorded at all times without being able to consent to it makes me feel incredibly unsafe.
I won’t budge. Neither will my husband. “I’m sorry your feelings are hurt by my disability” he tells me, “but that’s not my problem…I’m tired of dealing with the ableist establishment telling me I can’t do what I need to do to survive…if I put everyone’s feelings above my own, I would never achieve anything. I’ve spent my life doing that. Look where it got me.”
I don’t know what to do. As it stands, divorce is the only option. I cannot be around someone who uses audio-visual recording equipment 24/7 without allowing me to request it be turned off. He can’t get by without recording what goes on, because otherwise he will forget almost all of it.
Our disabilities are incompatible.
Please help?
-
SotD: I promise to do my best to think of a solution.
First thing’s first- figure out specifics. Does he need a recording of the house 24/7, or just himself? There are head cameras you can use for that.
Second, can you compromise? You turn the cameras off when you’re uncomfortable, and he can turn them on when he comes in (if you’re okay with that) or leave.
Third, can safe spaces be set up? Camera-free zones? You can go there when you don’t want to deal with cameras.
Fourth, maybe you should live apart. Not divorce per say, but live in separate places so that he can have his recordings and you can have your peace.
Stress RS Rating: Yellow
TW: internalized ableism, self-medication, family abuse, partner issues, drugs, negative therapist experience.
i’ve been off one of my psych meds for a week now.
i can’t sleep. it takes me a joint and some tylenol PM to get a few shitty hours.
haven’t left the house since sunday.
can’t eat on my own.
and somehow this is all just evidence that: i’m not really sick, just lazy; i don’t even deserve to be able to get my meds; my partner hates me and is going to leave me; i will have not friends by the time this week is over; i am a shitty friend, a shitty roommate, a shitty partner, a shitty pet. i leave bed once a day before my partner gets home from work. i’ve put all my freelance shit on hold because i can’t deal with it, and am vastly underqualified to deal with it ANYHOW, but not dealing with it makes me feel worse but i can’t deal with it because i’d do a shitty job and mess up important connections. my cat keeps doing things in the main room and i am too flipping out to go and see what he’s messed up.
i have the worst dreams when i am not on my medication.
i have been clenching my jaw so hard because of the withdrawal and the stress i can barely talk.
i think i’m skipping my therapists appointment because i don’t have the ability to take a shower and go (i have not showered in a very long time)
i am super glad most of my friends are going to be out of town and hard to reach this weekend so i don’t have to see anyone until monday when i go to my psychiatrist.
i don’t want to tell him i ran out of pills, i don’t like him, he makes me uneasy, i might fake being sane to get refills.
i don’t know what i want my body to do, ever.
i don’t know who i am and how i wanted to be valued.
i hate dealing with abuse and trauma, i hate that my mother (after long talks about what exactly my home environment was, i.e. SUPER ABUSIVE) still refers to me, in front of my friends as my partner, as having been “the problem child.” i hate my little sister, who only remembers the abuse well enough to imitate it perfectly without knowing how fucked up her actions are.
i simultaneously need my partner to never come home again and be here RIGHT NOW because i feel like shit and i want his comfort but i don’t want him to see me feel like this or inconvienence him by being fucking insane.
i don’t want to see these people again, right now, and i need them to be far away from me.
it’s weeks like these i realize how much internalized ableism i have, and how i am by far the best target for it.
(trigger warning: Internalized ableism, depression, suicide)
I’ve been chronically ill and disabled for running on seven years now, though I started showing symptoms almost twelve years ago. This entire time has been an uphill battle against my deteriorating health and mental state. I’ve been fighting not only my body but my mind as well. My mind that insists that my disability is my fault, that things would get better if I tried harder or if I were better at ignoring the pain. I feel like such a waste of space and potential. My once promising educational possibilities are in ruins. I’m a drain on my family’s meager resources. I’ve always struggled with mental illness as well but these past few months have been the worst. Not a day goes by that I don’t think that things would be better if I just killed myself. I wouldn’t be using up money and insurance coverage anymore and my family could finally stop worrying about me. The only reason that I haven’t done anything to myself is because I worry that it would destroy my mother. I love her more than anything and I don’t want to hurt her, but aren’t I doing that anyway? I’m writing this now because, just a few minutes ago, I came dangerously close to actually attempting to take my own life before I realized that my eleven year old brother would be the one to find me and I couldn’t do that to him. I guess I’m just hoping to get this off my chest and perhaps get some advice from people much stronger than I am.
tw: racism, bullying, hate, appropriation, abuse, being triggered
I need to get this out and I don’t know who else to tell.
I am white. And I have dreadlocks. I call them “knots” or “locks” or just “my hair” because I don’t want to be blatantly appropriative, but in the end, I know what they are.
Ugly white girl dreads I don’t deserve.
I also know that if I cut my hair (any cut, ever), I feel unsafe to the point of immobility.
I also know that, with unlocked long hair, I wake up every morning with giant twisted matted clumps. I don’t mind the clumps at all. In fact, I really love them. They’re soft to touch, they’re little pillows, and they’re mine.
But…
I also know that wild, unruly clumps of untamed and unbrushed hair aren’t socially acceptable.
I also know that brushing my long hair is extremely painful and triggering. It takes me back to the days when my mother would pull my knots in of anger and rip clumps of hair from my skull. I still rip hair out when I’m angry at myself.
What’s an autistic girl to do?
When I saw people with dreadlocks, I saw safety and hope and freedom. I didn’t think twice. I put on a movie and sat knotting my own hair in ribbons. It was the most empowering, comforting stim I’ve ever experienced.
Thrilled and proud of my accomplishment, I shared my hair with the world…
My
Appropriative
Ugly
Racist
White Girl
Hair
I was crushed when I was told how wrong I was. I fucked up. I freely admit that. I didn’t think about other people’s feelings before acting; I was so caught up in my own. This is a common problem for me.
Now here I am. With hair I love but don’t deserve. I hide it under oversized berets in public. I don’t post pictures on the internet. I am not thrilled or proud of my hair, anymore than I am thrilled or proud of any of my other stims. In fact, I am more ashamed of this one, because this one hurt people. When I put my hair in dreadlocks, I hurt people without realizing it.
And I am sorry for that.
But I am not unlocking my hair. I need my hair this way in order to survive. And like any other thief who steals to survive, I’m not proud of it. I know I’m wrong. I won’t encourage this terrible behavior from other people. I apologize.
But I am keeping my hair.
