Thin privilege is not being told that your weight is what’s causing abdominal pain.
Thin privilege is not being misdiagnosed by your doctor and almost dying due to your appendix rupturing.
Thin privilege is going to the doctor and being properly diagnosed with what you’re experiencing.
Agreed that thin privilege makes it easier to get diagnosed by a doctor. Though I also like how shitty some doctors are at their jobs in general and seem to want to give antibiotics away like candy for colds and then refuse to diagnose anything else.. “Oh you are bleeding from your ear? That must be your anxiety.”
Eleanor Roosevelt (via kari-shma)
Okay let’s see: riding the bus, being in various public places, writing essays, walking alone at night…yep I pretty much do things that scare me every single day. Good for me I guess?
Just because it’s in your head doesn’t mean it’s your fault.
-My seminar contract for Canadian Lit was cancelled because I’m taking one whole course this term and was supposed to TA one whole seminar and they conflict. Naturally. :/ Goodbye extra income and happy fiction and poetry reading. I rue, I rue.
-My term will be over as soon as I hand in this 30-page group paper that I volunteered to edit because I don’t trust anyone else to do the job. (Which turned out to be a fair suspicion because I got some of the most incompetent possible citations.) Exciting, yes? I thought I would get a vacation of some kind, but it turns out that nope, my spring course starts on Monday and I have to grade exams tomorrow so I actually only get one day off. Aaaaaaaah. Oh well, two of three terms are complete mostly on schedule and I will have an MA by August, barring catastrophe. Which is good, because the program is kind of intense and most people fail to finish within a year.
-I got myself into a completely awkwardasfuck social situation. Today my partner T and I got an invitation to a “private literary salon” from a former professor. It’s exclusive or something, apparently, and only a select number of people got an invitation. Which is all fine. The awkward part is that one of the two poets will be attending is the ravenhaired sultryvoiced lady that my partner has been friends with for years and has also had on and off flings with before we were dating seriously. Normally she lives across the country and I pretend she doesn’t exist because why would I want to pretend she does? Fortunately I trust T and do not think anything bad or traitorous or melodramatic will actually come of this, but I don’t know whether I should go. On the one hand it’s a private literary salon; on the other hand she is terrible at reading poetry. Eh. The truth is I am actually kind of impervious to awkwardness, in so far as I totally create it and make other people feel awkward and realize what’s going on but am not at all bothered by it myself.
[TW: anxiety and depression]
-In happy news, I have been totally managing to deal with my anxiety and depression lately. I can actually go for hour-long walks almost everyday and go on the bus and other lovely things without having a panic attack and having to fight the hyperbolic urge (to leap off the bus immediately and) sprint for the nearest clump of bushes to hide in. And I’ve also been quite productive and writing poetry again. And I -actually can’t remember the last time I cried- which is wonderful considering how often I used to get bleary eyed. I can’t tell if it is my iron resolve to stop crying and freaking out, the weather, or what, but I’ll take it.
Mental Well Being
Me, anxiety, depression, dealing, after the break.
This week feels so overwhelming, but I suspect that’s partly because I’ve been depressed so anything but sleep feels exhausting. Still, in the last 48 hours I’ve gone from: