It's just some angry little lady from south Jersey who keeps a lot of junk she finds interesting here. You might find something. You might not.

I have my triggers over at my blacklist page. All the cool kids are doin' it!
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a lifetime of wishes and kisses
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making wishes and talking to myself

jacobzaza I found out today they haven’t been keeping the records I’ve been giving them and I am pissed. I’m about to demand my personnel file the next time I have someone I half trust in there so I can take pictures on my phone.

I wanna see how far back it goes.

Cause I even had chicken pox one year while working for them. I was out for two weeks and I remember that particular year being on that manager’s shit list. Pretty sure they thew out my papers that I was quarantined in my house and it was advised that everyone at work get the shingles vaccine!!!

REBLOG | Posted 4 hours ago With 2 notes

flamesandpain Oh she knows what happened and she’s buddy-buddy with that manager. I had issues with the general manager before my diagnosis and my doctor then warned me not to be too fast to go along with “company policy” because we didn’t have a name yet and employers will try to sneakily try to cut your hours if you flag yourself.

Sadly he was right and she kept pushing before we had a name so I just gave up because she had become so hostile towards me. I’m still afraid of retaliation.

"I’m in pain but we don’t have a name yet, but I have a note asking for light duty until we know more!"
“Well you have to go through hotline for any changes or any limitations. “

I understand that. But at that time, no diagnosis. Therefore I really couldn’t use the hotline. Not applicable lady!!!

NAH SHE DIDN’T LISTEN. SHE EVEN LAUGHED WHEN I TOLD HER I WAS CONCERNED FOR MY EMPLOYMENT.

But to be honest I don’t want to see these people. I go back to Philly on 9/15 and they are so happy to have me there.

REBLOG | Posted 4 hours ago With 1 note
Shit went down at work.

So a coworker told me she needed me to move an entire portion of one wall of shoes to another wall, switching them.

I told her okay, but I’d need help doing this. She flipped out at me and told me she could do it by herself in ten minutes. I stared at her and told her I’m disabled. My arm doesn’t exactly work right or play nice with the CRPS/RSD.

Well she didn’t like that. She took off to the manager and told her apparently I refused to do this. When I was approached I decided to stick up for myself because I’m sick of this shit.

And the manager claimed that not only did she not know about my condition but that I had to deal with it because shoes has a certain job description. So um, I can’t ask for help. That’s not allowed? I repeated myself that I never said I wouldn’t do it, I needed assistance due to pain and that how could she not know with all of my notes and my various visits and surgical treatments? I cried. Right there. I cried.

My manager freaked and apologized but the damage is done and my job is still treating me like shit. This is a very, very long process of getting the “official” CRPS diagnosis and there isn’t a lot of room for understanding that this all takes time and that I have to wait and see most of the time.

I ended up going home because the pain spiked anyway while just using the register scanners. Stress made it worse. Fuck my life.

We’ll be starting paperwork for disability. If only because I don’t know what else to do.

My stomach demands I finish the rice pudding in the fridge.

My head is telling me that I have a mini migraine.

My arm is, as always, the biggest bitch I know.

:| siiiiiiiigh.

REBLOG | Posted 19 hours ago With 0 notes
You know your body better than anyone. Don’t let people who can’t feel your pain tell you it doesn’t exist.
—My new promising doctor! (via emilysscribblenotes)

In 1998, Disney came out with Mulan. I was immediately enamored with everything about her. She was beautiful. She was strong. She bettered herself. She protected her family. Though my favorite princess was Snow White, I thought that if I could be like Mulan, maybe people would like me more.

In a small town where your elementary school sports got on the front page of the paper during the school year, you understood just how important it was in the eyes of the community to be good at sports and be active. Mulan could climb to the top of the pole with practice, therefore I should practice and become good at something.

The trouble was, I wasn’t good at anything. Even with practice, I failed miserably. To this day, I still cannot jump rope. I’m lucky if I can get to five on a Skip-It. The problem with me was that, I was an artist. I could sing. At that time of my life, I could draw little cartoons relatively well (no longer is this true). I had an eye for building out of paper. I was a reader and a writer. These things were only encouraged by my teachers while I tried to hide them from my parents.

I was not going to be their perfect daughter. In vain, I signed up for tee ball. I was awkward in running and the slowest. Eventually asthma continued to cripple my dreams of keeping up with my classmates.

These beautiful girls were sports stars. I was not. To me, I became ugly. All of these girls I saw around me were great at everything and I was so limited. I couldn’t be Mulan, even when I practiced.

So I turned to my books. I turned to my imagination. There, I was welcomed. I found joy in pursuits of “normal” womanly things. I loved cooking. I loved singing (and by switching schools, I made soloist in choir four years running). I embraced what came naturally and fostered what I loved. I said goodbye to Mulan and I held even tighter to Snow White than I ever had before. It was okay to sing a song. It was okay to wander in the woods until I found my way. Cleaning and cooking was not demeaning. It was hard work, but I enjoyed it.

And now, I am sick. I have quite a bit of pain in my right arm, but I still have my few joys.

I sometimes read about how Snow White isn’t feminist enough and how Mulan is much better. And that’s very silly. If I never had the choice to be who I wanted, I would have been the most miserable little girl, forced into a mold that I could never achieve.

There is nothing shameful about being a Snow White, as there is nothing shameful about being a Mulan.

What is shameful is forcing people to a standard that you feel is acceptable. Everyone has their own standard. Feminism? That’s when you get a choice. Never belittle a woman for her choice.

When you have chronic pain or suffer from a chronic illness, you get the gist of who your friends are very quickly.

Your go-to friends immediately are replaced by med student friends and nursing friends who have been giving you tips on how to get and demand better care because they’ve decided to dedicate their lives to patient advocacy. You now have “spoonie friends” because they see your posts and immediately feel your emotional pain because they, too, have suffered just like you have. Even if you do not have matching ailments, they know your soul and know exactly what you’re feeling and are now there for you during your painsomnia times and will let you vent and in return, vent to you.

Of course there will be the people who desperately cling onto that friendship and find a way to make it work because they love you and can’t believe “healthy you” is gone. It’s still you, of course, but you’ve been there for them so they’re going to try to be there for you.

But mostly it’s people who decide to ignore your pleas for companionship or your thinly veiled attempts to try to ignore how badly hurting you are within your heart. Your “old friends” can’t handle the new you. Your “old friends” are only consumed by themselves and cannot understand the new transformation.

They don’t really get the pain butterfly that you’re rocking now, even if you didn’t pick it out on your own free will. You’re not fun anymore. You sleep a lot. You’re just forcing conversation now and it’s not the same.

They can’t even be assed to ask you how you’re feeling anymore.

And it sucks. It completely sucks and you never get over losing friends to your ailment because it’s another thing that gets taken away from you.

I just can’t stand it anymore.

That’s….wow. That’s really awful. I don’t know how else to describe it.

Yeah…

Lots of stress when I need support. Mmhm. JUST what I need from the people around me.

REBLOG | Posted 23 hours ago With 0 notes

So my father decided to start a fight over something stupid.

My grandmother’s 95th birthday party is on Saturday and we’re holding it at our house. He’s decided he isn’t going to help clean, cook, or set up anything. He’s been on facebook all day and is pissy I’m still in pain from yesterday.

Some shit never changes.

REBLOG | Posted 1 day ago With 1 note

pixiekaiju:

jaymeetstheworld:

jadestoybox:

spooky-pens:

rrraquelle:

Barbie takes on the ALS ice bucket challenge [x]

all Mattel employees? does that mean garrettsander as well!?

I would assume so!

Good that I’m just doing freelance xD

OMG BARBIE YOU GOOB <3333

Read More

REBLOG | Posted 1 day ago With 1 note

njgeekgirl:

Seven minutes past minute. Fast pass for Anna and Elsa on November 3rd during the 1-2pm time slot.

>:| Yeaaaaa. *nose wrinkle*

Also reserved seating for Festival of Fantasy that day so we can see a different angle of the parade.

Cause I figure goddamn we’ll have done everything the girls have wanted to do so um let’s just waste that fastpass.

REBLOG | Posted 1 day ago With 2 notes

Seven minutes past minute. Fast pass for Anna and Elsa on November 3rd during the 1-2pm time slot.

>:| Yeaaaaa. *nose wrinkle*

REBLOG | Posted 1 day ago With 2 notes
My family, especially my mom, had the hardest time coming to terms with the fact that remission is the best I could hope for. It took forever for them to realize this isn’t going away. It sucks, but that’s the hand we’ve been dealt. Hugs!

<3


Many one-armed hugs.


Yeah we’re all kinda just stress sleeping in the house and while my father is still stubbornly holding onto the hope it’ll go away for good (no dad you’ll understand soon) it’s just slowly settling in.


I stopped at my local doctor’s office and they told me I need to consider disability once I get another appointment for the new surgeon but UPenn is pretty happy to help. We arrived early, they let us go right in, answered all of our questions, asked questions that we had forgotten to ask, and were very sweet. They’re also efficient. Never had my work completed on time when people say it’s going to be done.

It’s just all kinda overwhelming so it’s babysteps. One day at a time and figuring stuff out.

They were kinda happy to have a case of CRPS at the hospital because they got to teach it to students. I have a HUGE FILE on me and apparently they were doing research days in advance before I came in. It’s kinda “nice” being the text book cause I’m getting paid attention to and everyone wants to see me. It’s also weird because “YOU HAVE THAT?!” Yes. Yes you get to treat that. It’s rare. Enjoy the brain stimulation.




REBLOG | Posted 1 day ago With 1 note