Comments | brightlotusmoon: Being Alice: Breathing.

brightlotusmoon

Being Alice: Breathing.

Jun 06, 2013 22:30

Call me Courage ( Read more... )

seizure recovery, mental disorders, brain, hypersensitivity, neurological disorders, being alice, seizures, brain damage, fibromyalgia, brain fog, mind, cerebral palsy, disabilities, fatigue, mental illness, epilepsy

Comments 4

el_esteleth June 7 2013, 02:58:36 UTC

So at the end of reading your post, where it asks for a story, for some reason I thought about my lizard, BB. He is one of my second-hand pets that I got because someone else didn't want him any more. He was originally wild, and his previous owner was a really young boy. His mom works where I work and she got tired of taking care of BB and her son got tired of having BB around. So, I inherited him. The first little while that I had BB, he wouldn't eat. This went on for months. But a few months ago, there seemed to be some kind of magical switch that flipped in BB's brain, and now he likes me. He's let me touch him, he eats regularly, he walks towards me when I come in the room where his cage is. And most recently, he's taken to eating directly off the tongs that I put his food in his cage with. He's such a fun little guy now that he's stopped his hunger strike. Soon, it'll be a year since I got him. :)

naamah_darling June 7 2013, 05:49:12 UTC

When I was between eight and thirteen, I rode my bike around the neighborhood every day. I had a route I traveled, designed to take me past the most interesting places within a one mile square area. I drove it once, and because of the back and forths and ins and outs, it measured about four miles round trip ( ... )

naamah_darling June 7 2013, 06:12:03 UTC

It was on these bike rides that I perfected my cat mojo. It's worn off, some, from lack of practice. I still do REALLY well with cats, but it used to be shocking. I could approach and pick up cats that wouldn't let anyone else come near them. I could sit and pet any cat and it would let me pick fleas off it for hours if I wanted to (and if it had fleas). (My parents never once had to pay to have a cat flea-treated. I flea-picked them too expertly.) Cats that were afraid of people would come to me and sit in my lap, and I could lure kittens in just by THINKING about it, practically. When my sister rescued a cat from some asshole children who had been tormenting him, and the cat was SERIOUSLY mentally fucked up from the trauma, she brought him to ME and said "Fix this cat, he is losing his shit." So I sat with him in bed for most of the afternoon until he felt safer, and was willing to come out and be fed and cleaned up. (He was never a well-adjusted cat, he was kind of unpredictable and mean, but he was nice to me.) (This ( ... )

brightlotusmoon June 8 2013, 02:01:43 UTC

Holy shit, dude that is AWESOME.

I adore your stories!