TL;DR: Obvious Amputee Struggles, Hidden HEDS Hijinks, Failed Attempt At Mooning Church Ladies With My

TL;DR: Obvious amputee struggles, hidden hEDS hijinks, failed attempt at mooning church ladies with my sexy yoga talents.

Invisible disabilities are still disabilities, and even if people can't outwardly see what you struggle with, you have the right to look "unsightly" or "inappropriate" in public to take care of yourself. This is taking medications, this is sitting down, this is doing whatever you need to do to keep your body happy and healthy. I'm used to being very obviously different with a congenital forearm amputation that doesn't really get in the way of my life besides the occasional inconveniently short microwave handles (can't get my residual joints behind them) or the way strangers and family often treat me in public for it (very poorly; this is my main struggle and I'd go so far as to say social separation is my main lifestyle difference. I am always unsightly in public.) . . . But the less notable side of my body, which is a progressively worsening diagnosis of hEDS that I've been dealing with for half of my life, is something I am still getting used to accepting and managing. With or without a lot of physical therapy, supplements, rest, and preventative care, I have issues that won't go away. Lately, this means that I can't sit up straight or stand for long periods of time, and very often need to do strange little jigs to get my ribs back into their parking spots in my poorly-oiled upper back— essentially, I can't look proper in quiet spaces. As a woman attending a tri-city snooty-suburb church primarily composed of prim-and-proper older ladies and their equally judgy sheltered tweenagers who would have a conniption at the idea our planet Earth being over 6,000 years old or, God literally forbid, people being themselves, I have at least one personal worst place to have three ribs twist themselves out of me so suddenly while mid- un-pretzelifying my body (to avoid back pain on a shitty pew) (also read: standing up like I'm an overburdened robot). That said, I love my community for the things they do correctly, and I love and prefer the church I attend while at my university for being much kinder, more open-minded, science-loving people.

So anyway, you do what you have to do, even if this means gasping like a fish with a harmonica stuck in its throat, squeezing past 10 of those people very forcefully, and lumpily skittering out of the room (picture a constipated armadillo. I'm fond of my parenthetical similes if you can't tell) to the aghast spite of plenty to put your rebellious skeleton back together in the bathroom, hands covered in napkins and ass directly to the door like this:

(I was taught this funny hot banana-pyramid pose by some very good friends of mine. It saves lives.)

Some people will still love you when they see your nice ass at church, and others will be offended over silly things, and even more will have the right intentions but a terrible mindset. . . But you matter most in this context, unless you're bowling over 95-year old grandfathers for bonus points.

And no, I didn't get caught. And, as a final addition, I think this whole connective tissue disorder thing has helped me to start accepting the visible part of me more. As I've mentioned before, I was raised to stamp out the idea that I was different, and to ignore my own support needs to convince others. Those needs were much easier to believe for something new and fresh that I could demand regular appointments for, and the wacky things I have to get up to to avoid pain have helped me to give less of a shit about others, even if it's hard to.

IT'S OLIMAR!!!!

Still thinking about this. I should redraw it. . .

Big ideas for little men, today.

Happy artfight everyone. I only just found my pen that went perfectly missing at the beginning of the month.

This is your fault.

...hey does anyone have a tutorial on how to make shoes with animal foot print imprints om the bottom at home, or do I really need to start fucking around to find out all on my own?