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Blog May 31st, 2019

May 31, 2019

This blog is about the truth. My life could have been cut terribly short at 10 from type-1 diabetes, an otherwise easily treatable illness. You see, I like machines, so I’m a keep me alive by whatever means possible. Yes, my near death from diabetes is what prompted my family to become as over protective as they are. And believe you me, they are overprotective, which is why I tell people on Facebook to keep their bloody mouth shut. See, Lord Zod, is triggered by “omfg something happened to my daughter,” and can’t get the shit out of her head. You see, untreated mentally ill people freak out.

They have no medication to still their anxiety or any other mental health symptom. Cousin saying “Oye Loca” to give me shit for being stable, not cool. Stigma is not cool, dumbass. I will say this many times on the Internets. I do not feel sorry for you because you have a back injury that may never get well. So don’t give me shit about stuff I can’t help.

I was almost felled by something as treatable as type-1 diabetes. My doctor is not at fault for what happened to me. No. The man was trying to tell people until he was blue in the face. Walking out of that appointment, without knowing what was wrong with me, was terrifying. Having pediatric-onset schizoaffective and not knowing what was wrong with me, was also terrifying for 30 straight years of not understand myself as schizophrenic and not knowing what it is. The psychic crap never goes away though, so in which case, I need medication to treat my schizoaffective, because I have to be able to focus on keeping my psychokinesis shut off. It is exhausting to try not to activate major life or death fear, which is my trigger along with high blood sugar.

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