Click here to support "Sick Pay" is below minimum wage

Ask anyone, I don’t like taking money from other people beyond mooching a meal off my awesome roommate. I like to be as self-sufficient as possible. But I find myself approaching my surgery date with more than just the procedure on my mind. 

My doctors suspect that I have, and are performing surgery to diagnose and remove any lesions from, endometriosis. This has been an eight year battle with mystery pains that have stopped me from working and nearly cost me several jobs. 

Right now, I work as a salesperson and the majority of my pay comes from sales. My company only gives me 7 paid days off a year—my surgery will keep me out several days and I have already used at least two from being ill and one so that I could spend Thanksgiving with my family. Not only that, but my paid time off will be issued at my sub-minimum wage rate of $6/hr. (Which they are allowed to pay me because I earn commission.) 

Luckily I am insured and have my parents helping with the out of pocket costs of the surgery, but I do depend on my commission to pay my rent and my other bills. So if anyone can pitch in a few dollars or even a reblog I would be so grateful. If you can’t, then a reblog would be loved

I am not a good advocate for my own health. This is a problem and it’s one that I need to deal with.

As a child, I began to exaggerate every headache, stomachache, cough I could to be able to stay home from or leave school. I didn’t realize until I was older that I was school avoidant—probably because I was unchallenged and frankly didn’t get along well with kids my age. So I started, in my young mind, to internalize myself as a faker.

This came to a head for the first time at summer camp when a friend of mine called me a hypochondriac. I felt awful, but I had to be exaggerating, right? So I made up my mind that I wasn’t going to seek help. My friend was a diabetic with real health problems. Therefore, my thirteen-year-old brain determined that I didn’t need any help because her health was worse than mine. By the time we met up later in the day, she apologized for snapping at me because she was mad about something else, I had a 103 degree fever and nearly had to be sent to the hospital.

I wish I could say I learned something about my health that day. But I didn’t. I just settled into a pattern of believing that I was a faker and that other people’s problems being worse than mine meant that I shouldn’t seek treatment at all.

Shortly after college, I was plagued by the feeling of being trapped with no future and fleeting thoughts of suicide. But I’m a privileged upper-middle class white kid, I shouldn’t have any problems. I feared being laughed at when I made an appointment with a new therapist because my problems seemed so minor in comparison to others. After a few months of therapy she suggested I try antidepressants, and after talking through my worries I ultimately made the decision to do so.

I was stunned by my newfound ability to think critically about my emotions and my cognitions without being overwhelmed.

You’d think after all that I would have finally learned my lesson about advocating for myself. And I am finally starting to. I have been battling mystery pelvic pain, on and off, for almost right years. The first time, my parents didn’t believe I was sick and we were on vacation, so I was being dragged up and down cathedrals in Italy. The pain came back again about three years later. Then one year later. Then again and again with increasing frequency. After a misdiagnosis of Crohn’s disease and ruling out appendicitis three times over, I realized I was feeling this pelvic pain constantly—not just when ovulating like how it started. I’ve bled after ultrasounds and not said anything to the doctor. In fact my gyno was stunned to know that during my ovulation pain spells I can’t sleep without taking some narcotics left over from a family member’s injury or oral surgery.

I hadn’t even let my doctor know how much pain I was in. This had to stop.

Even as I lie awake at 2:30 am cringing slightly at the pain part of me is saying it’s not so bad. The other, newer part of me is saying “you shouldn’t be in pain at all!” Which is why I’m taking steps to truly diagnose and treat what I am almost certain is endometriosis. I’m seeing my surgeon on Thursday to get all the information and if all goes well I’ll be proceeding with the surgery in early August.

I just hope I can continue to take care of myself and speak up about my health.


winter soldier versions, as promised

now with more sam wilson!

July 2014. 

I’m finally going to talk to my doctors about surgery to diagnose endometriosis. I’m 25, I’ve been dealing with mystery pain since I was seventeen. 

Typically my pain would come at ovulation, with the same particular pattern of symptoms. One day of onset, two days of pain so hard I can’t sleep without narcotics, and then a day or two of recovery. 

I’ve been on and off the pill because I hate the pill. Yaz has proven to have the least side effects, no massive cravings, no laziness, and yes my anxiety has been up since I started taking it but not to the extremes that Ortho Tricyclen or Loestrin caused. (I’m also on cymbalta for dysthymia.) 

My last visit to the gyno before going on Yaz, I was having pain on my right side where the pain normally occurs and it turned out I had ovulated on the left side and I bled quite a bit after the ultrasound as well.

I’m having crampy period pain today and it’s not so severe as to make me unable to rest. It’s just made me kind of lazy and making me feel like I need to do something. Just get some kind of answer. 

This is my first post in the tag. Hi. 


Excellent and concise infographic.



Islamic headscarf 101.

this is really important because I didn’t realize there was a difference and other people should know this 



Islamic headscarf 101.

this is really important because I didn’t realize there was a difference and other people should know this 



Just- ok I’m serious watch this right now trust me.

84 plays

White men make up approximately 36% of the population, but commit 75% of mass shootings. What would be called terrorism by any other skin tone is suddenly some mysterious unnamed disease. We as a society are perfectly happy to further stigmatize mentally ill people, who are far more likely to be victims of violence than commit violence, in the service of protecting white supremacy and male entitlement.

(via shitrichcollegekidssay)

(Source: athousandsweetkissies)

(Source: thedahlingdarling)