These are lessons I have learned from sitting with the snow. Take from them what you will, and please, listen to the snow yourself. See what open secrets it imparts to you.
Tag: pain
The silent migraine is a uniquely hellish beast that, in my own experience, has proven far more resistant to taming than its more common cousin. Follow along as I break down what this type of migraine is and what it looks like for me.
It's a lie crafted to shame nonnormative bodyminds which can't meet standards of productivity, output, and success. While it is true that you may be able to ignore symptoms for some time, they will always come back stronger than before. Disability is not something to be overcome; it demands respect and accommodation. It demands love.
Does chocolate cause migraines? Can it help them? Should you ever eat chocolate again? These questions haunt many of us who have migraines, as well as those wanting to learn more. Using my own experiences, chats I've had with others, and information from the scientific review I just linked, let's explore.
Bringing the realm of disability into the intimacy space can only make it messier. Disabled lives are messy. Physically, spiritually, emotionally, relationally. Thus, disabled intimacy is always messy. But that doesn't mean it can't feel really, really good.
Walking with a cane is not as simple as picking it up and going on your way. It requires a period of adjustment to find your rhythm, learning to synchronize your muscles with the workings of metal and rubber. Yet, no one talks about this. So here are a few ways you shouldn't use a cane.
Episode 3 explores my first use of a cane, finally getting a diagnosis for my disability, and the effects that had on me afterward.
When the pain first came back, I ignored it. My parents had taught me that the best thing to do was power through. Mind over matter; will over pain. But that couldn't work forever.
I take one step, then another, feeling the uneven field beneath my feet. One more step and the ball and I are perfectly in line. My left foot planted firmly into the ground, I bring my right foot back, toes pointed toward the earth. I don't have time to breathe.
Ashton Rose 