ladydrace: (Default)

Welcome to my journal.

What will you find here? Excessive fangirling over everything and anything that catches my fancy. Fanfiction, random blatherings and personal posts at an ever increasing rate.

If you're just here for the fanstuff, then feel free to lurk away. If you want to know me personally and read my personal entries, leave a comment to this post or send me a message to be added to my friends-list.
(Sorry, but I will no longer accept friend requests without some form of contact beforehand.)

If you just want to read my fanfic, you can also find them on my website, made exclusively for the purpose, or on AO3.


ANNOUNCEMENT: As of this moment, I will no longer update LJ. I will keep crossposting, but I will no longer fix dead links or coding errors. When linking to my fics I will now only link to DW and AO3. I will still answer comments on LJ, and try to keep up with my f-list there, but it will not be where my focus lies anymore.
ladydrace: (Crap)
Tuesday I'm going to court to try and convince the county to let me get my son home. I've been fighting for this for two years, and it's been uphill all the way. There's no way to describe how much I've cried and raged, how hard I've worked, how many battles I've taken on. It's been completely unreal and exhausting.

But through all of it, I at least had the comfort of the fact that Pea's dad backed my play. We chat amicably about our son, we text, we get along nicely. 

Or so I thought.

Turns out he's been secretly working against me for months. He didn't say a word to me about being unhappy with the way I handled things. He didn't take any initiative to be more involved. He didn't ever show the tiniest indication that he had anything against me at all, or that he even wanted Pea for himself.

Then, yesterday, when I finally crack open the case notes that I've only just gotten in hand, there it is. Short and to the point. He is officially opposing me getting Pea home, and has gotten a lawyer to oppose me. That is betrayal enough in itself, and I called him, very angry, and got the "explanation" that he didn't think I'd had his interests at heart through all of this. Which is a bald-faced lie, first of all, because half the reason I even did this was so Pea could get more time with BOTH his parents, a point which I've consistently made through all of these battles. 

Then this morning I'm informed that there was a page missing in the case notes, and when I crack it open, there is an entire full page detailing all the ways I suck, pretty much all of it lies or twisted words, and I'm baffled. I'm completely and utterly baffled, because I cannot for the life of me imagine what I did to him to warrant that kind of attack. 

And no matter how blatantly false it is, it definitely hurts my case, so now I'm expecting to lose on Tuesday, where before I thought it was pretty much 50/50. 

This man has ripped away my hope, destroyed what I obviously naively thought was a friendship, and effectively crippled my faith in my fellow man. 

I had no idea. None. Literally anyone can be my enemy. I have never felt so betrayed and hurt in my entire life, and that includes the time he fucking cheated on me. 

So this is it. This is how you become a cynic. 
ladydrace: (Do they have a name for what's wrong wit)
 I think I got a taste today of how it feels to be an alien. And I don't mean that in a bad way, necessarily. Mostly just complex.

See, I've only known about my autism for a little under two years now, but I've always known there was something "off" about me, compared to others. But it has never been seen as a good thing. Only always being cause for scorn or ridicule. 

But lately I've been seeing a... well an expert of a sort, in regards to autism and such. And today while I was explaining some of the ways I viewed people around me, she got really excited and happy, because she'd never heard it put quite like that before. She made notes furiously, and when I joked that maybe I should just write a book about it, she got downright giddy and told me she'd definitely buy it. 

And because I'm forever and always a shipper first, this made me think of Garak and Bashir. Because all else aside, how flattering must it have been for Garak to talk to someone like Bashir? Someone who finds him fascinating and awesome, even if mostly because of how different he is to humans, and a little less because of who he actually is? When all Garak knows is suspicion from most of his fellow Cardassians, and outright hatred from Bajorans. 

See, I can relate to that. Because I get so little enthusiasm in regards to who I am. Pretty much the only affirmation I get is when I produce something (writing) or do favors for someone (like do stuff for my mom). I think the only one who seems to love me pretty much for no reason is my son.

So I relate to Garak in that way at least. (Not so much the genocide and intense patriotism, but still.) And it's a high. I'm not gonna mince words here, it IS a high. To sit across from someone who is literally hungry for you to tell them more. Who looks at you with stars in their eyes and a million questions. Even though you know it's not YOU they're excited about, exactly. It doesn't matter. It's still a high. 

So bottom line. Anyone who tries to tell me that Garak would never be with Bashir because he's young/dumb/annoying or it's risky/out of character(snrrk)/seems stupid for someone as clever as him? Anyone who tries that with me has obviously never been aching for their next high. And Garak? Is an addict. It's canon. And this level of attention, no matter how problematic? Is just too damn tempting.
ladydrace: (Young Ones Vyv extreme violence)
Not only have I had to deal with two different and powerful parties telling me everything I'm doing wrong in regards to my son and why I should never be allowed to get him home again, I also seem to have lost a friend to what I can only assume is a brief, but violent, fit of insanity. 

The universe can stop kicking me in the nuts now, please.
ladydrace: (Young Ones Vyv extreme violence)
Seeing as Pea is still in foster care and the county has fucked me over so I now only see Pea every 4 weeks, I was in a bit of a jam in regards to Christmas wishes. Because I'd only managed to get one wish out of him before December (other than the ever-present wish of coming home to live with mommy, -sob-) and that's just not enough when there are several other parties who want to give him gifts. So I called and asked foster mom.

But rather than give me HIS wishes, she started listing things she believed he needed. Like a lamp or  a box for his toys. Shit they could more than easily buy with the ridiculous amount of money they get thrown after them for taking care of him. And I'm not talking about their pay, I'm talking about the fact that they almost get their full pay twice over JUST for "additional expenses". 

The money issue is actually secondary, though, compared to her complete blankness when I asked what HE wanted. I know for a fact that they've been making Christmas lists at daycare, because foster dad told me. But foster mom hadn't even glanced at it. Hadn't cared. 

I can't decide what I want to do more. Cut a bitch or cry. 
ladydrace: (Crap)
I probably never even stated as much here, but a couple of months ago, I got a boyfriend. And now I don't have one anymore. And I think I need to talk about it.

Even from the very beginning it was a strange relationship. I had zero idea he was even into me until he was literally planning to come and see me. (From the UK to Denmark, so not just a train ride away or something.) But okay, I was super flattered and totally into him so we had a little talk where intentions were discussed, and he called me his girlfriend pretty much as soon as I was okay with it.

I was aware from the beginning that he had a very demanding job and that he was very young (12 years younger than me) and consequently might be in a different place in life. But even when it was all new and fresh I was already wondering why he was even with me, because he expressed no interest in me as a person. The sex was amazing, even long-distance, which was refreshing, but as for talking? None of that happened unless I initiated it, and even then his replies were always very short and did not invite further interaction.  

I even asked him, twice, why he was with me. The first answer was "because you're the nicest person I've ever met" and the second was "because you're lovely." Which are nice things, sure, but not something that really screams "in love." He did claim I was "perfect" to a friend, but I sure didn't see much proof of that. 

But okay, upon further prodding he did reveal that his luck in love had so far been awful, and that his previous girlfriend had been distant and almost ashamed of him. So I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone needs practice, and he was still young. He was also apparently willing to work for it, so that was good enough for me. And he also said he had some depressive days where he didn't feel like talking to anyone, and okay, that made sense.

So he came to see me, and despite having mentioned a desire to hold hands and such, he seemed weirdly hesitant when I went for it. But okay, practice. 

He stayed with me for a long weekend, and even though he had several times expressed sadness that he had no one to cuddle up to at night, and that he definitely wouldn't mind me snoring, he did not sleep a single night in the double bed I'd put together specifically for his visit. He slept on the couch, curled up and cramped. We had plenty of sex, and while it was probably the best sex I've had in my life, as soon as it was over, he was gone. He spent all the time we were not having sex either on his phone or his tablet, stretched out on the couch. 

Every single thing we did was on my initiative, and by the third night I was ready to cry. We had a talk, and I told him straight up that he needed to try and bridge the divide between us, because I was going bonkers. He again mentioned his ex girlfriend and her apparent dislike for touching of any kind, but he did spend the rest of the evening touching me a lot. He was also mostly drunk at the time, so I dunno. Whatever. For those few hours I was actually happy and felt like it was finally coming together. He said he loved me, and seemed panicked when I admitted I couldn't say it back yet. But only a few hours later I said it back to him anyway, because I really thought we'd solved whatever hangup he'd had, and that he would now show actual interest in me. He promised he'd try, and I proimised in return that I'd give him time.

I dropped him off at the airport the next day, and while there was once again some weirdness with the pda, I still figured he was easing into it after a bad experience. 

Then came a week of almost complete silence. But we'd both had fairly busy weeks ahead of us, and I'd managed to give him my flu, so I'd expected it to a degree. He still contacted me for sex, but otherwise, nothing. I struggled with jealousy because he seemed to have no problem talking to a friend of mine on Twitter (one he had previously labeled "hot") and it finally hurt so much that I asked said friend to talk to him about it. To his credit he immediately talked to me, and we had a pretty painful conversation about how I felt like he only ever talked to me when he had needs (emotional or physical) and he gave the explanation that he suffered from crippling anxiety, and was terrified of disappointing me. When I asked if he'd gotten help he said he'd tried it, but it hadn't worked. That didn't sound promising, but I put it aside for later. 

I expressed my need for contact from him, if nothing else just to show that he was working on it, and we agreed on an arrangement where he would talk to me every day, if only just an emoji, or to tell me he didn't feel like talking. In return I promised to give him more time. I even begged him to set a phone alert, so he wouldn't spiral into crippling despair if he failed to remember one day, and even though he was reluctant, he told me he'd set one. 

A week after that he was back to only talking to me when I talked to him first (Except for once when he asked for sex, and I'm not counting that.), and the first day where I didn't speak to him once, he didn't contact me at all. 

I was really hurt, because not only had he broken his promise, he had also also presumably lied to me. And that's a dealbreaker. I had told him this several times, so it's not like it was news.

When I told him I needed to break up he was not surprised. He expressed a desire for us to be friends, but seeing as he hadn't even managed to show enough interest that I would have even called him a friend if we hadn't been together, I didn't think that was a good idea, and I told him to get back to me if he ever spent some time working on his anxiety issues. 

He didn't seem terribly upset, though, apart from a Twitter update later about how his day sucked. He didn't try and defend himself, he didn't try and work out another arrangement. He just said he "probably wasn't ready for a relationship", and that was it. In comparison he'd cried pretty hard when we had our talk a couple weeks prior, or at least he said he had. It was over text, so I dunno. It felt cold and like I was being thrown aside, even though I was the one breaking up with him. I'd been so worried about doing it, because I thought he'd be upset. Guess not. We lasted two months and one day.

So I'm left with the only conclusion that I was the "better than nothing" option. He had a need for sex and someone to worry about him. My needs never even entered the picture.

And that hurts more than anything else. 

Diet blog.

Nov. 23rd, 2015 09:05 pm
ladydrace: (Burp!)
 To avoid clogging up this blog (or Tumblr or Twitter) with all the dieting things, I've made another blog for it. Or, rather, I went back to an olllllld blogging platform where I had my very first online blogging experience back in 2005. The few posts I made are not open to the public, because I was in a very bad place, and I'd delete them if it wasn't such a nice piece of perspective for me. 

But anyway, if you wanna follow the diet, here is where to go

Meat.

Nov. 22nd, 2015 09:22 am
ladydrace: (Burp!)
 Day four dawning of test-diet. And I've had an epiphany.

I've always wondered at the Americans and their meat-heavy breakfast foods (Here it's cereal and bread, MAYBE an egg, if we're feeling luxurious), but I totally get it now.

I don't know if it's my body screaming out for more protein, or my mind latching on to anything that feels filling, but I get it now. Holy shit do I get it.

Meat. Meeeeat.
ladydrace: (Burp!)
What I've been more or less expecting for a while has now happened. My workplace needed my spot for someone else, and I'm definitely not coming in often enough to justify holding it for me anymore. So I'm no longer working for my welfare, and I've gotten an appointment after the new year to talk to my caseworker about what to do with me next. I've got nothing, since it all depends on my meds, and they don't give me much hope, currently. I spent a day or so being really bummed about it, but I'm trying to see the brighter side of it.

Because this has actually given me almost two months of free reign, so I'm gonna try and spend the time wisely. And since I can't talk to my doctor for another two and a half weeks about the gastric bypass thing, I've had a little think about what I can do myself in the mean time.

Seeing as you have to lose 8-10% of your body weight before the surgery can even happen, I thought I'd do a test. Because, the thing is, I've never actually been on a diet, as such. I've made life changes here and there, the biggest one when my ex-husband got diabetes, and we changed our diet to fit. Mostly. But that's another story.

The problem for me is that I've never gone into it with the goal of losing weight. Maybe for a week or two at low points during my teens, but they were always brief, and I never remember actually losing any weight at all. Probably because I never got on a scale much. I really never cared much about numbers, and I liked my body, in all its lardy glory. I still do, but now it's hurting me, so... needs must.

But the thing that worries me on a more immediate basis about this gastric bypass idea is whether I'll be able to lose the weight at all, seeing as I've never dieted before. So I'm on a diet now. Of sorts. 

The goal is to lose weight, while being as good to my mental state as a possibly can. So I'm trying to emulate how I'll be living after the surgery if I get it. I'll be eating six times a day, meal sizes 2-4 ounces, probably, because that'll be all my stomach will be able to hold, then.

I can't mimic it exactly, first of all because you're forced to watch your water intake like a hawk to make sure you get enough in the smalls sips you can handle in between meals, and if I try that now I know I'll just never drink, and I have problems getting enough fluids as it is. So I'mputting no limit on drinking

But I'll still be eating what I always do, meaning I don't have to change any of my preferences, and thereby lessening my anxiety significantly. No forcing myself to eat stuff I don't like, or endure any nasty workout routines, or change every little thing about my eating habits All I need to do now (ideally) is just do intake control. Instead of two rolls for breakfast it's now a quarter of one. For second breakfast I might eat the other half or something else. (And how Hobbit is that? 6 meals a day. Wonderful!) And it's like that across the board. Everything I usually eat. Only, cut down to an amount no bigger than my fist, depending on the density of the food in question (as I learned when I overdid it on meat yesterday. Oops. Learning curve.).

So yeah. I'm on a diet. For the first time in my life. I've made it 2½ days so far.

Wish me luck!
ladydrace: (Default)
Reading up on gastric bypass has, if nothing else, given me insight into the near-suicidal disregard many people have for their health. Like 99% of what I could find on the subject was from the US (which makes sense, because Denmark is TINY) and I know their healthcare system is vastly different from ours, but holy crap...

The shit I read about people doing before/after surgery... it's like they WANT complications. "My stomach hurts, I'm so scared!" I get that you're scared, friend, but maybe going fucking binge drinking a week out of surgery wasn't your brightest moment. Liquid diet does not mean "excuse to pickle yourself in alcohol".

And don't even get me started on the perfectly slim people who pay shady doctors to have it done, just to lose those last pesky ten pounds. I'm in awe of the stupidity.

I can barely even find mentions of health. It's all about how much they lost, down to the ounce, and I'm sitting here wanting to know if I can still take painkillers in pill form, or what happens if I get stomach flu, or if my meds will even still be absorbed, or how you cope with the dietary demands alongside other health issues. There was one lady on youtube who warned that the poop would be different, and YES, THANK YOU NICE LADY, these are the things I need to know in advance, please. 

Finding what I need on this is soooo hard. Like, loose skin is gonna happen. Does it hurt when you run? I mean, does it pull at you as it moves? And what about anxiety? Do the changes in your body change your mental state? Do different things trigger your anxiety compared to before?

And I can't find a single word about autism in relation to gastric bypass, which makes me worry that it's a thing doctor's wouldn't recommend to someone with autism. (I don't really think so, it's more likely any patients with autism find documenting it too challenging.) And what about your kids? They're bound to ask questions. What do you say? What if you miss a few meals? There's a lot of info about "dumping" that happens when you eat too much or the wrong things, but nothing about the effects of missing meals.

And I only found a single mention of taking precautions in the event of death during surgery. It's like people are deliberately ignoring the possiblity. Just because the risk is low, it doesn't mean it isn't there.
ladydrace: (Back Off)
I'm on welfare. I have been so for over a decade now, and I don't see that changing anytime soon, my autism diagnosis made that pretty clear to me.

But the politicians in this country seem determined to label me and my fellow welfare recipients as lazy fucks who are just sitting around on our asses. To them I'd like to clarify. I work as much as I can, even though it costs me. It's costs me a lot of precious energy I could use elsewhere, and (hold on to something, pal, this might be shocking to you) it also costs me money. 

Yes, I pay money to work. 

My maximum weekly hour count was eight hours before my latest round of medication changes, and currently it's about two. But I still go. The tickets for the bus that takes me to those couple of hours cost me what amounts to a quarter of the money I have left after paying rent, utilities and other fixed expenses. I can apply for some of it back, and it's supposed to happen automatically every month, but guess what, it doesn't. And even when it does, I can only get about half of it back. So about twelve percent of the already slim amount I have for clothes, food, transportation, and other daily needs goes to just getting to work. 

And I used to love this work because it felt like it was needed, that me and my fellow low-hour-count workers were an important part of the production line. But it definitely is no longer the case, and these days my supervisor struggles to even find work for us to do. That's really kind of a bitter pill to swallow on top of the two and a half hours of transportation I do per day to manage two hours of work.

So going to work costs me time, energy and money, and I spend less time working than I do commuting. And my work is pointless.

But I still fucking do it. 

No love, me.

EDIT: I feel I need to clarify. I go to work for my welfare payments. I don't earn anything from this work. It's not a job. It's the welfare office trying to make sure I don't fall into some pit of uselessness. Not that it helps.

Pics?

Nov. 16th, 2015 12:03 am
ladydrace: (No Het Merlin)
I just posted this on Tumblr, but then I realized that no one would be able to actually discuss it with me, so I'm posting it here too.

NSFW TEXT AHEAD!

* * *

I suddenly had the thought… if dick pics are so rampant in straight and gay male circles, what about lesbian circles? Are vagina pics a thing? Muff motifs? Pussy pics? Snatch snaps? Clam caps?
ladydrace: (Default)
Okay, this is a tough subject.

I'm considering a gastric bypass. 

I've been hugely against it, because first of all, people do actually die from this surgery (not many, but it does happen), and secondly, you're gonna have to be checked for vitamin deficiencies and other things pretty much for the rest of your life. And on top of that, it might lose its effect in time. A good example is my uncle who had one eight years or so ago, and he's just about as fat now as he was before the surgery. So yeah. Results not guaranteed.

But, at this point, it's starting to look like the lesser of two evils.
Read more... )
ladydrace: (Default)
I desperately want to move from Tumblr back to DW, but there's a problem. There's just not a lot of activity here. And I'm struggling to work out how to fix that.

I mean, obviously I would have to contribute more myself. Tumblr was wonderful in the fact that I didn't actually need to engage in any kind of activity, there was already so much there. And despite an increasingly fandom-unfriendly platform it remains the place where fandom seems to live. 

But it's rapidly reaching the point where Tumblr aggravates me more than it inspires. It's been coming on a long time, but the lack of my preferred obsessions anywhere else is what's keeping me there. It sure isn't the interface or (apart from a very select few) the company. 

It's gonna happen. I might mourn the pretty pictures and hip-shooting fanfic bursts, but unless some really big magical turn-around happens, then Tumblr will have to see me go.

First step: tag-surfing here. I WILL find something new to fill my feed with. I WILL, DAMMIT!
ladydrace: (Default)
 Wow, okay, it's been so fucking long since I posted here, but I have some stuff I need to write out, so here goes.

I suddenly remembered today another reason why I fight so hard for Pea. Apart from the obvious, Pea loves his daddy.

Now, B and I fell apart, and there have been periods of animosity and bitterness and a lot of misunderstandings. And if I'm being brutally honest, I generally think B is pretty stupid.

But despite all of this I have never been able to find a single sign that he doesn't dearly love our kid. He adores Pea, and though I don't agree with his ways of handling the whole co-parenting deal, I am 100% sure that he will do anything for Pea if he has to. 

However, there have been incidents lately where Pea has been very sad about leaving mommy and generally having a hard time when we have to say goodbye. And today we went to a meeting at the daycare, and we went to say hi to him for five mins. At day's end, Pea was going to spend the weekend with daddy, and it's been almost 2 months since they saw each other last, and I was worried. I was worried that Pea would have lost focus on daddy, and would go immediately for me, only to be sad when told that he wouldn't be leaving with me.

But what I got was the perfect scenario. Pea made a bee-line for daddy, right into a hug, and joyfully told him that "guess what, Daddy!? I'm going home with YOU!" I got a little gooey inside, and so did B. Pea did come to me after, and one hug was obviously not enough, because it took a while to hug it out, but after that he was fine with the five mins we were there. He said goodbye without a fuss, and I could go home reassured that he would go to B's for the weekend without feeling cheated somehow.

I am gonna win this so Pea can have more time with his daddy. I want them to have their time, even if it means more bad habits to bring home. (leaving the toilet seat up for one). I want Pea to be able to talk to B. I look forward to B teaching Pea to shave or how to drive or whatever the time may bring. I want them to have that, so badly.

PS: wtf, Dreamwidth doesn't work in Chrome anymore? D:
ladydrace: (Default)
Title: Everything's Better With Fireworks.
Fandom: Supernatural.
Pairings: None. (Maybe some Kevin/Adam if you squint.)
Rating: PG-13.
Word count: 1207
Spoilers: Season 8.
Warnings: None.
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Supernatural.
Beta: None.
Notes: Written as a birthday present for the smart and wonderful Robinasnyder. Happy Birthday, dear!
Summary: Paying it forward, archangel style.

Read below or on AO3.

* * *

Read more... ).

ladydrace: (Default)
Title: Birthday Rimming for Jo.
Fandom: Teen Wolf.
Pairings: Stiles/Derek
Rating: NC-17.
Word count: 1356
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Teen Wolf .
Beta: None.
Notes: Written as a birthday present for the lovely Jo. Happy Birthday gorgeous!
Summary: Rimming. No, seriously, that's it. There might be a sprinkle of feelings. Might be. No promises.

Read below or on AO3.

* * *

Read more... ).

Oops.

Feb. 14th, 2014 02:24 pm
ladydrace: (Default)
Looks like I forgot to post a few things here. So a couple of fic posts coming up.
ladydrace: (Default)
So I guess this blog is pretty much only for my personal stuff now. Okay then. Fine by me. People change and move on. Nothing wrong with that. Fanstuff on tumblr, personal on DW. Goodie. That settled...

After a few nightmarish months with physical illness followed by a mental drop, I'm finally clawing my back to status quo. I've had talks with both my social aid person and my supervisor at the place where I go swimming 4 days a week, and they both had some thoughts I'm trying to get straight inside my head.

Thing is, that all the way through the shitstorm of depression and anxiety that is my life, I was told repeatedly by doctors and various health professionals that this would definitely not be a permanent illness. I would get over it. Definitely. With the correct treatment, they could fix me right up. But as I look back on it, I can clearly see how they slowly backpeddled, getting more and more hesitant to promise anything as help options dwindled. After they cut me off completely I floundered quite a bit, unsure what to do next. Going by old recommendations I got the social aid thing and otherwise went right ahead to assume that all I needed was a little push and then I'd be able to have a normal(ish) life.

But going by experience, it looks an awful lot like that's not gonna be an option. There's still hope for a higher level of self-sufficiency, but to hope for actual independence and a life closer to the social norm is probably naive.

I had a plan to get re-diagnosed in the hopes of finding better methods of treatment, but only very recently did I realize that there's an option I never even considered. I could be diagnosed with something there's no cure for.

I tripped over a list of symptoms or common traits in adult women with Asperger's, and it is downright eerie how much it could be a description of me. If I have Asperger's, the best I can hope for is a social effort. Which I'm already getting. At best we might be able to tweak my aid slightly, but bottom line there's not much to be done about Asperger's. It would explain a million things if that's what I have. But even if it ends up being something else, it opened up the possibility of there not being any help to be had. Indeed, it could just pile on yet another diagnosis the county can use to keep Pea from coming home to me.

Also, my social aid person sort of cautiously suggested that maybe the reason I keep having these mental crashes is not because I'm not good enough at talking about my problems or whatever guilt trip reason I give myself every time. Maybe I'm simply trying to push myself beyond my limits. Maybe these 2-4 hours of activity a day is simply all I have to give, and trying to do more wears me down until I crash. My supervisor agreed, and following these talks I accepted their recommendation of being referred to a psychologist. I have been to so many in the past, so I am predictably a little hesitant, but waiting to get better before trying some kind (any kind) of treatment is probably never gonna get me there, I might as well take the offer. It's only 5 sessions and it may or may not end up with another trip through the healthcare system. But I won't know that until I try, and if I just keep hoping I'll find the energy, I suspect half my life will go by before that happens.

So this is me slowly trying to reconcile myself to the idea of the rest of my life with an actual disability. I might get better, but I'll probably never be normal. It's a really tough pill to swallow.

Profile

ladydrace: (Default)
Lady Drace

April 2016

S M T W T F S
      12
34567 89
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Aug. 27th, 2016 06:30 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios