I Cried I Was Not Ready

reblog if you’re gay because of ghosts

Right before my chronic fatigue crash nap of the day, I thought of the perfect metaphor to describe what chronic fatigue is like:

The medical definition of chronic fatigue is "a fatigue that can not be solved by rest."

Here it is, presuming that:

-energy is a form of currency

-and that our bodies hold that energy like a bank account

-and every task requires a certain amount of energy (ex: getting dressed, showering, making dinner, dishes, laundry, taking out the trash, seeing friends, going to work or school)

-and that sleep is the labor by which we obtain income (energy), the payment system works as thus:

Able-bodied people are paying for their daily tasks with a debit card. There is no interest, and depending on how much sleep they get per day, that income will restore itself.

Disabled people, especially people with chronic fatigue or chronic pain, are paying for everything with a credit card, and that credit card has a high-interest rate. No matter how much energy they accumulate in sleep, some of that money is always getting paid to reduce some of their debt.

If they wish to attempt paying off that debt quickly, that means spending a lot less money on daily necessities: that means letting dishes stack up, not doing the laundry, skipping showers, staying home from school or work.

Which is the equivalent of someone in debt not taking their car to a mechanic, not being able to visit a doctor, not replacing shoes and jackets as they wear out, having to put off paying their electricity bill. Those financial needs will not disappear in a few weeks, but rather will begin to accumulate so that as soon as you have a little extra money, that's where it's going.

Chores, school work, and personal care are not going anywhere either.

And if those needs get taken care of, that's less money to pay off the debt, and interest grows until your card is maxed out. The physical health version of maxing out your credit card is having a medical relapse.

And if you started off reading this wondering why on earth disabled people were paying with credit instead of debit, why they had accumulated so much debt so quickly, the answer is this: a medical emergency, possibly one that required being hospitalized.

The bills of that medical emergency are steep, and that is no fault of the disabled person.

(This metaphor brought to you by my brain as I crashed on Wednesday, typed up before class on Thursday, and forgot about until Sunday)

the ghost of one specific homosexual cowboy regularly possesses Tumblr gays

and what about it?

me when i see bo katan and the armorer interacting

here is a wink:

now that i’ve got your attention: black lives still matter even though things have “settled down” on your dash. please remember to donate if possible, sign petitions, and lift up black voices.

go through the black lives matter tag (it’s #1 trending right now, so shouldn’t be hard to find if you can’t click on my tags to take you there) and reblog posts with links to donations, petitions, and youtube videos!! boost them, sign the petitions, donate if you can!!!!

black lives matter. i cannot emphasize that enough. black lives matter.

here is a donation master post, one of many

there are tons of posts with more links and information in the tag “black lives matter resources” plus tons of blogs solely dedicated to reblogging posts with links and information, a multitude of blogs of black-owned businesses if you wish to support them too (if you can please do), and many many people speaking up about this.

please, if you are able to, continue keeping this present. this is still going on, and it won’t end and shouldn’t end until there is proper justice.

Reblog if there's something wrong with you

go OFF queen

Every show and film and book I grew up with presented the military as a place where you’d find yourself. The military could be good, could be bad, and all that “glory” stuff was clearly nonsense… but shared trials made you stronger and forged ride-or-die buddies for life. And hey, it’d pay for college.

Then I joined. It didn’t work out. Every day ranged from tedious to toxic, even when we did genuine good. I made one short-term friend in four years.

I still loved those stories, but none of them were ever about the guy who joins up and doesn’t find himself and never belongs—so I wrote it.

Poor Man’s Fight is a rockin’ space opera built on shattered dreams, student debt, and space pirates. Lots of space pirates. It’s funny, it’s sober, and you’ll want to hug Tanner Malone even when he’s covered in blood. The real enemies are always capitalism and toxic masculinity.

And then comes the war with the corporations that built this whole dystopia, because the enemy is still capitalism, even for the aliens.

On a brighter note, Tanner does make it out of the military and into college, becoming the Deadliest Unpaid Intern in the Galaxy… and the Resident Advisor for a freshman dorm full of chaos goblins.

(Cover art by Lee Moyer, Julie Dillon, Dan Watson, and Brittany Torres, for which I’m forever grateful.)

If you’ve made it this far, hopefully you’re looking for where to pick this up. They’re all available on ebook and Kindle Unlimited, and everything from Poor Man’s Fight to Last Man Out is also in paperback and audio.

And bonus: they’re cheap!