I hurt my foot. Bad.

It doesn’t hurt much when I just walk but my legs constantly make me feel exhausted. I can’t run and whenever I prop my heel on the ground a little harshly, my ankle explodes with pain

If this is what Newt felt like whole of the time, constantly having to run and put pressure on his bad leg, then props to that guy, he’s a fucking hero

I’ve never realized how much physical pain, exhausion, effort it takes to cope with a limp. It bothers you all the time, I feel like giving up on walking and it’s only been a few days

Okay so here’s me again. I’m Muri. I’m 15. I have Alopecia Areata, an auto-immune condition that caused my hair (+eyebrows/ eyelashes) to stop growing, i lost most of my hair when i was 8. I was never comfortable with who i am, so i decided to hide it, wear hats and wigs all the time. But people always ask questions, and if they don’t, there are rumors. No, i don’t have cancer. No, it can’t be transmitted to you (wtf??) Yes, i have leg hair. Yes, it does affect me in my daily life because beauty standards are a bitch. The thing is, i don’t think i’ll ever be able to leave my house without a wig. It feels bad and i feel judged, just not safe. And that’s what hurts the most because i can’t change who i am but i am not accepted without hiding my true appearence. Just trying to say, don’t judge people. Just don’t. Ask, but don’t assume. Give kids without hair a better childhood/youth than the one i had to experience. Thanks for reading, have a nice day!!♡

The Only Visitor

A little fluffy thing I wrote in response to this adorable anon. Based off of this post. (AU in which Mark is always hurting himself.) This is also up on my ao3 here.

82.  “I was in the neighbourhood.”

           “Wait, how’d you break your leg this time?”

           “I fell down an escalator.”

           “How did you—?!”

           “I thought it was the one going up…it wasn’t.”

           Jack couldn’t help laughing, and Mark reddened sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the former chortled, trying to control himself. “You just…God, Mark, you hurt yourself in the stupidest ways.”

           Mark rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Thanks for the update, I had no idea,” he said sarcastically. “Yeah, it’s all very funny, I’m sure, but the hospital bills are no fun.”

Keep reading

Everyone thinks love is kissing in the rain or boomboxes on shoulders or playing house in IKEA and maybe for some people it is but for me

Love is lying on the floor of my bedroom with my record player singing Beatles songs we know all the words to and listening to you strum acoustic guitar with my legs over yours
Love is heated discussions about the character development in my favorite novel on picnic blankets that always end in us kissing on the college green
Love is Friday nights out dancing with our friends and Saturday nights in, laughing so much my sides hurt
Love is going to shows for bands no one else has ever heard of, and seeing independent films our friends make
Love is you remembering all the little things about me and listening to me rant about things you only care about because I think they’re worth my time
Love is us fighting over dumb things because love is hard but never walking out
Love is taking my cousin’s kids to the zoo and scolding you as you swing one of them up to sit on your shoulders and seeing something that resembles a future

To me, love is everything everyone takes for granted.  It is everything I know I am so lucky to have.
Love is you telling me that you will always, always, stay, and me never second-guessing that you are telling me the truth.

—  Amanda Erin, Prose #23

retrodynamics asked:

Souji is critically injured in the heaven dungeon AU. Any pairings. just hurt me

(Fuck it, more than three sentences.)

He’d always heard stories about how adrenaline was a powerful thing: enabling mothers to lift cars off their children or walking despite broken bones, and Souji had never really, truly believed them, until he managed to carry Nanako’s tiny–god, had she always been this small?–and shivering form all the way out to the entrance of the TV World, all without realizing he’d lost as much blood as he had. His left pant leg was warm and soaked through, but where the injury had come from he couldn’t remember, the entire flight had been such a blur of terror and emotion that he’d barely noticed getting hurt at all.

Right, probably hit my femoral artery, he thought fuzzily, vaguely remembering some lesson Kashiwagi had given them on the circulatory system during her biology lessons. The realization dawned on him slowly, but it was also sudden enough that he barely had time to process it. With a calm that surprised him, he tapped Kanji on the shoulder and handed Nanako to him wordlessly as his vision began to blur around the edges. 

He was so tired.

Kanji ducked into the exit, followed by most of the others. Nanako would be safe now, they’d saved her, and that was the important part. He relaxed, but that made him sway dangerously on his feet, and he hadn’t realized that Yosuke had rushed back through the televisions until a pair of arms stopped him just before he hit the floor. 

It would be him, Souji thought faintly, and smiled to himself. 

He could see Yosuke yelling something, but it was like someone had turned a television on mute, and Souji couldn’t focus enough to read his lips, either. He frowned; Yosuke was clearly upset, but he was too tired now to try and do his job properly as their Leader and reassure him. 

But it had been a long day, and they’d understand, and surely they’d forgive him if he just needed a little nap, first.

“Sorry,” he murmured, and closed his eyes.

I’ve always known I was super duper clumsy, but what I did just took the cake! (Not literally, because I don’t have cake. I wish I had cake, though!) Anywhosizzles, I was having a little dance party in my room, because I was bored and what better way to pass time than to dance it away, am I right? So I was dancing around, and having a fantabulous time, when all of the sudden, I bump into my bed and it hurt, like a lot. So now, my leg is really, really, super duper bruised on the shin and I totes cried about it for like, fifteen minutes after it happened. Moral of the story is that dance parties can get a little crazy sometimes, so be careful!

I didn’t intend on starting this blog to post leg spam every day loooool but it’s the only group of muscles I have right now that are evident???

I feel like my leg day today was a little subpar, mostly because I had to rush and cram everything into 40 minutes since I had work soon after. I wasn’t able to get in all the sets I wanted to in my Bulgarian squats, on the glute press, and didn’t even make it to the leg press today 💀 I was also still sore from Monday.

I did move up from five pounds to fifty in deadlifting though 😊 I didn’t attempt a higher weight when I did them for the first time on Monday because I didn’t want to hurt myself, and to also watch my form while doing it.

off to bed now 🌚

anonymous asked:

So I'm a junior this year and I play baritone, but this year we didn't have a tuba (small band) so I had to learn sousaphone last minute. I am having so much trouble and my legs hurt from crabbing all the time and my shoulder is dying and I'm not even using the heavy one we have(which I will be using during marching season). I don't have enough breath support. And to top it all off, our stands tunes are fast tempo and I have eighth notes at fast tempo and I'm so afraid I won't be able to play :(

this sounds like death

“I’ve fallen to my knees
so many times
my knee caps have dug
cement cups
into the ground.
Night caps
wait for me
in all the places I bend.

Im tired, you know?
It hurts my legs
to walk some days.

I want to crawl
along the crack of someone’s
serpent tongue
see how life split them
see what they put there
to close the gap.

I want to feel their arm
around my waist
making certain
I don’t fall
into the things that broke them.

I don’t want them to swallow me whole.

I want them to show me their ugly
as they hold my hand
and run their fingers
through the words on my ring.
The one that says, ‘Live the questions.’“

-Nairy Fstukh, A safe place.

anonymous asked:

How is your leg these days? Better?

Heaps better. Been walking without aid (crutches/walking stick) for just about 8 months now. Still majorly fucked, but totally bearable. My foot is inclined inwards about 10-20 degrees and my leg is about 2cm shorter than what it was from the docs putting it back together. Hurts all the time but you get used to that really so no real complaints. Still limp all the time too. But way better round all in all. So I’m getting back on track finally.

Its perfect timing that you ask because it happened 3 years ago just last Tuesday. Rough few years but getting back on track. Thank you for asking!

Small updates

The good:

  • I’m officially in CT at my parents house. Alex comes up on Thursday after a job thing that he needs to attend in the city. 
  • My leg is a little better. Granted, it still hurts when I stand on it for too long or walk too fast. 
  • I bought a flower head thing for the Renaissance Faire this weekend! I also bought my son a cheap outfit to wear and he looks SOOOOO cute!!!
  • Even thought I haven’t found the cotton candy grapes, I found Moon Drops by the same company. Can’t wait to try them. 

The bad:

  • I did good tracking wise for 3 days and then it all went down hill from there. WHY am I having such a hard time this time around?! What is going on with me?!?!
  • Not working out much
  • Shark week approaching = Major sweet cravings

I feel like I haven’t been very supportive and/or not on here much lately. I’m sorry. I do try to come on as much as I can, but it’s been mostly at night once my munchkin goes to bed. 

6'2, long arms that reminded
Me of home.
I could nuzzle my face into
Your neck, burrow you hands
Down my pants once more.

Your soft white bed smells of comfort
And safety, something I haven’t felt
In a while.

Place your palms on my legs, this is where it hurts. This is where all the
Hurting goes.

Press your lips against mine even if
It’s for the last time, because we don’t have enough of that anymore.
You said this isn’t a good time to
Fall in love but I will collect every clock out there and rewind them all
If that were to give us more time.

Time is temporary.
So was I.

My legs still fucking hurt and I’m trying to focus on the fact that ‘sleep is important’ and all that garbage so I guess I’m going to bed uwub Tomorrow I have competitive dance and then I have to go play pepband at the football game so idk when I’ll be home but I’ll try to do replies. At the moment I have all my homework done up until Monday so if I don’t get anymore I’ll for sure be on some time tomorrow.

Omg, what the hell is that Void!Stiles storyline? Just because Stiles felt good about Donovan being dead, doesn’t mean that he is evil. Donovan was trying to fucking hurt him. Eating his FUCKING LEGS!!! Donovan’s death was just a fortunaly accident. And, just because he enjoyed punch Theo, doesn’t mean that he is evil too. Like, Theo fucking up with his life, breaking up his best friendship, kidnaped his dad, hurt his best friend. Punch Theo was nothing evil. Enjoyed it was not evil too. I liked Void!Stiles, he was my favorite character in a evil way. He was sexy and evil. I like villains. But, that was other times. He was possessed by a evil, trickster fox spirit. And Stiles isn’t evil. Maybe he enjoy feel powerful. Who doesn’t? Void!Stiles doesn’t really exist. The dark side of Stiles Stilinski isn’t that. And that examples of “Void!Stiles” don’t really count. Jeff Davis should be able to see that. I don’t want see him fucking up with my favorite character. I’m not here for that. That’s it, i guess.

chadyasutorasado asked:

Don't use the puppy dog eyes!

                   Riruka really couldn’t help it. Guilt rained over her like a heavy thunderstorm. It was her fault that he got hurt. If only she had been watching where she was going then he wouldn’t have been hit by that car. Now Chad had a broken leg. It’s all my fault! Riruka laid her head against the hospital bed, trying to pray for some miracle of going back in time. “You can’t be so nice to me… not after this…” Her voice may have been muffled by the covers. She just couldn’t help her face when she looked back up at him. She felt so bad.

I remember

Being 12 years old, in the seventh grade.
I was in an honors class.
Everyone outside of my class would call me a nerd and say I looked like a zombie, and they would make fun of me for the way I walk (I was born pigeon-toed). Every time they would see me, they’d exaggerate their legs inwards and mock me. It really hurt.
The kids in my class were worse. They’d also make fun of how I walk, but also how I look. I was called ugly and stupid every day of my seventh grade year. I was severely harassed and violated by the boys in my class.
I had a huge crush on this one boy, and I’d write all about him in my diary. One day, a group of kids stole my diary and shared all my secrets and stories with each other. The boy I had a crush on found out, as well as everyone else.
One day I had my very first mental breakdown in science class, and I started crying hysterically. I started to color in my notebook furiously with black ink, piercing the book to shreds. I got sent to sit in on another class- because I was deemed an unstable distraction- and of course, I went to the class my crush was in.
Crying myself sick, he leaned over to me and told me that even though I’m nice, I’m just too crazy, and too ugly for him.
That was my breaking point.
I was in seventh grade, I was 12 years old, and I was bullied.
I came from a poor, broken family. I had no friends, no support system. And I hated myself. I went home that day, and I slit my wrists. I sat in my bathroom, bleeding. And I remember being so content with the blood. I felt so relieved. And I wanted to do more. I wanted it to be over. I wanted to kill myself.

The bullying only got worse as life went on. As I got older, things got way more intense. “You’re ugly” turned into “Kill yourself.”, stealing my diary turned into stealing my phone, throwing spit balls turned into spitting in my face. One of the few people I trusted took advantage of me while I was drunk and vulnerable.

And then a false story was told. And I was labeled, and judged, and degraded. And I was left to blame for it all. I’m the slut. I’m the psychopath. I’m the problem.

I’m honestly shocked that I’m still here today. I’m shocked that I’m not dead. But I’m so, so, SO thankful that I’m not. I’m proud of myself for not letting them win.

Bullying is a real problem, and no one seems to fucking get it unless they themselves have been through it- but that obviously isn’t what we want.

There needs to be a way to stop this. There needs to be a way to help.

Because it’s ten years later and I’m still so fucking damaged. I can’t live my life the way I want to because the trauma has changed me. And no innocent 12 year old should have to go through this.


And I want to help stop it. I don’t know how or where to start, but if anyone wants to join me in raising awareness, please contact me.
Tie me in knots, dig your fingers into the loose threads of my fingers, press palm against palm like a prayer.  Do you think we’ll be heard this time, screaming into the wind because that’s all we’ve been taught?  I don’t like what we’re becoming.  You tell me I’m your saving grace, but my mother doesn’t talk to me anymore, and my legs constantly twitch with the need to run.  I can see every one of my mistakes etched into your smile, a kill count on bitten skin that I sink my teeth into over and over again.  Why does it hurt to look away from you, towards the alter and the idols and the world? I think I fell, blood pooling slick in my mouth.  It lines your tongue like honey.
—  i wonder if eve regretted her choice? //a.b.s.

anonymous asked:

i usually cut on my arms but since my birthday is pretty soon im not sure weather they will fade enough 4 me to wear a dress bc nobody knows except me and a friend so i was wanderin if cutting on my legs would hurt and leave scars as much?? - nia

Sweetie, my answer will be don’t cut. Our bodies scar differently for each person. For example, all my scars are red. They may be years old but they scar red.
Have you tried distraction instead? Like using elastic bands or felt tip pens?
Tbh when it comes to scars I tell people straight and if they are rude they aren’t worth your time.
I believe you are strong enough not to cut. You can beat this. Rhi 💛 💛 💛

A Shoulder to Die on

I walked past you and you smiled
And my heart it started racing at a hundred miles
You gave me your coat when I was cold
Took from me the world’s load
You became my shoulder to cry
But I never thought you’d be the reason why I die
I die
I die
I die.
My heart went out to you
But all this time it was one big lie
Head hurting chest aching
Legs about to give way
Falling and nothing to catch me but the cold ground
Yet I have to pretend that I am sound.
You you use to be my shoulder to cry
But I never thought you’d be the reason why I die.
Now I am on the ground
Can’t pretend anymore that I am sound.
I am lost with no way to be found
All I ever wanted was affection
But I could never pass your inspection.
I just wanted a shoulder to cry
Never thought you’d be the reason why I die.