A friend and I were discussing what we're like when we're sick and we decided people usually fall into one of these five 'sick modes': *Everyone is probably multiple of these at different times depending on how sick they are and with what but we think most people have a mode they default to and become more often than the others*
Delicate Consumptive Victorian: you feel tragic and mournful but also beautiful in a sad way, you are in bed, sipping hot tea, others should quietly whisper about how you are too good for this world, too beautiful, too tragic... And bring you more tea
Sick Dog: you are curled up in a ball, you don't want anything, you don't need anything, but it would be nice if others could still ask you if you need anything
Sickly Child Emperor: you are dying and it's everyone else's problem, you need pillows, no! you need soup, no! You need absolute silence or you will not be the first one to die today
Plague Pit: you are curled up probably on the floor, no one touch you, no one look at you, this is between you and God and you already know He has no mercy left for you
Warrior General: you are not sick. You are in perfect health and you don't know why anyone would think otherwise. Illness is an enemy that can be intimidated and you must remain strong for your men! (You are going to pass out at the most inconvenient moment possible)
you cant even abuse yourself these days without making some random company richer
I don't think my body realizes how healthy my labs say I am
forever missing the person i could’ve been if i wasn’t sick
Me lying down: I feel pretty much fine. What am I doing lying around? I should get up and do something. Or at least sit upright, damn.
Me when I’m upright: oh, Jesus. Oh, damn. Oh, RIGHT—this is why I was lying down.
girl who is sitting in a chair quietly with a neutral expression actually screaming very loudly in her head
*slaps my body* this bad boy can- ugh auugh that hurt
Me: I don't get it. I thought I was doing a lot better than I was a few years ago. I'm like 10 times more on top of things than I used to be. How does everything feel terrible now?
The Tiny Me in OSHA-approved Hi-Vis Gear Who lives in my brain and pulls all the levers: Boss, it's the fascism. You're completely gunked up with cortisol due to the fact that your entire daily life is now underscored with a haunting awareness of the rapid erosion of your rights, dignity, and any and all social safety nets, and you're also bearing witness to the most vulnerable people immediately being persecuted. This creates a natural stress response that basically means you're going to continue having memory and organizational problems, as well as emotional imbalances.
Me: BUT I HAVE A BULLET JOURNAL AND I MEDITATE NOW.
Tiny OSHA Me: BOSS, THE FASCISM.
blogging from the depths of autistic burnout • he/him • adult
300 posts