Just made an account on Medium so I could read this. Made it about 1/3 through and I'm absolutely hooked and excited to finish it!! But first, time for a nap.
For the longest time, I have had trouble understanding FND - specifically whether it's just a shitty diagnosis made up by the medical system to gaslight people or if it's a genuine medical condition. This essay is rly helpful and has already broadened my understanding. It's incredibly well written, particularly bc of the extremely thorough research it's a result of
I am one of the most medically examined people in North America. For over a decade, no one could explain why I lost my ability to walk, speak, and use my hands. Why the lightning-like headaches? Why the ringing in my ears? Test after test came back negative. Doctors thought I might have a genetic abnormality no one's ever seen before, or a condition so rare that it had previously escaped medical classification. Then I got accepted to the top undiagnosed disease research program in the world, and they told me the only diagnosis I was unprepared to hear: it was Functional Neurological Disorder (FND), a much-misunderstood condition which was once known as Conversion Disorder, and before that, as Hysteria. And that was only the beginning of things getting weird. The essay above is the product of three years of research into the history, neuroscience, and politics of FND. It touches on the many medical failures that define the history of the disorder, the pervasive sexism and lazy mind-body dualism that prevented scholars from seeing it clearly, and why - finally - a better understanding may be at hand, with revolutionary implications for how we understand human consciousness and the experience of having a body.
FND fucked my life up. This is my reply. Thanks for reading.
I've been dealing with some of the worst pain of my life for the past 6 ish months. Knowing it could have been avoided if my pain doc had not decided to stop one of my medications is bittersweet. If she had only listened when I told her the pain was worse. But she didn't care. She simply told me to try not to think about it. I should have fought harder but I was so exhausted and dissociated. I've finally started treatment for it again, I just hope it works fast. I'm so tired...
me, every second of my life: but is it meaningful? but is it meaningful? but is it meaningful?
“I am getting anxious because time is flying by, but time doesn’t exist, but in this realm they pretend it does so it stresses me out. ”
(via sarahkjh)
You’re allowed to struggle and complain even if you aren’t the “worst” you could be.
You don’t need to be positive and grateful all the time. It’s okay to have feelings about your disabilities. It’s okay to vent about them.
Just because it could be worse doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it to be better.
ICELAND ICELAND ICELAND ICELAND
if you ever feel like you're not "smart enough" for STEM or didn't do that great in school, i just wanna let you know that i failed algebra 2 THREE TIMES and dropped my high school physics class the FIRST WEEK...
and NASA chose me to student research with them.
so what i'm trying to say is that STEM is for EVERYONE. if school wasn't the easiest for you and you're not the strongest in math, don't let that stop you from pursuing STEM. working hard for goals makes you a great scientist.
screw that stereotype that all STEM majors are geniuses who were building robots and knew how to work a microscope at 3 years old.
STEM IS FOR EVERYONE! BECOME A FREAKING SCIENTIST! YOU CAN DO IT!
Petition to refer to TERFs as FARTs, which stands for Feminist Appropiating Reactionary Tranaphobe
Yes, I did it, but do you have any idea how hard it was? How much pain it caused me? How much it cost? How many hours I spent in tears? How much I screamed in pain? How long it took? How many nights I spent paralyzed with fear? How hard it was to drag myself along by my arms, desperately clawing for purchase after my legs could go no more? How it felt to grit my teeth and bite back the bile and blood threatening to spill from my mouth, as every nerve ending shot fire through my veins? How the dread and the despair and the grief weighed me down until it felt like I was being crushed under the weight? Do you have any idea what it's taken from me?
But you shrug, and brush it off. "But you did it, didn't you? So it's fine."
"But you did it, didn't you? So clearly you didn't need help."
"But you did it, didn't you? So it obviously wasn't as hard as you were making it out to be."
"But you did it, didn't you? So you can do it again."
24, they/them, nonbinary lesbian, disabled. Studying medicine, working on my internalised ableism, prioritising finding out what I like to do. I write, ish, or try to at least and that's something
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