SeaW @seaw@witches.town

@Murkrow Yes! Like seagulls or crows, croaking "Yoga! Yoga! YOGA!" ... Funfact: I've tried yoga. (And qigong. And meditation.) Everyone else can do the dog downward whatever pose, and I can just look at the mat and go "well I can sit, OR I can stand OR I can lie down but I can't really do the in-between thing without needing to be carried to bed with a broken back and a newly found addiction to opiates".

Oh, and have we tried to talk to our doctor about this? Because they're not sure we have, see. We're so silly. If we weren't so silly, if we were doing it right, we wouldn't be like this, obviously!

@Murkrow Thank you. I shouldn't have posted that; sometimes my frustration just gets the best out of me.

I like that image, though. All of us, this ragtag mismatch of disabled, mentally ill, traumatised, neurodivergent peeps, sitting back against the wall, drinking tea and mocking those who think if we'd just drink a little more water or did a little more yoga we'd get there just like them. What do they know? They might have the sun and the green grasslands but they sure as hell don't have our camaraderie.

@soza Yes.

@soza Thank you. That would be delightful. I'll be hoping for the best for you too, although I am sorry you can relate.

@DarckCrystale No - for the last two years or so, I have only seen my parents once a month (we do not get along), my therapist once a week, and, maybe once or twice a year, my friend from the Netherlands (of all my friends, she is the one who lives closest). Meeting people is too hard; it requires an energy and skills I do not have.

I miss being touched. The last hug I got was back when my friend visited in April. I hate being held too strongly, can't stand any sort of physical constraint, but I miss being touched. Light touches, soft touches, safe touches. I long for a hand in my hair that is not a preliminary to something else, a hand on my back that is not pushing me in this or that direction, holding someone in my arms in the certain knowledge that they are happy and willing to be there. There are so many things that I miss. Making people smile. Making them laugh. Talking, using my voice. Sometimes I fear I've forgotten how to exist outside of a screen.

@Hiraelle Oui, ça peut, ça peut même devenir dépressif si ça s'ennuie trop. Ca ne sera pas le cas de Patoune, j'en suis sûr-e - il faut juste les stimuler et s'en occuper tous les jours, jouer avec, etc. C'est pas non plus tout de suite la cata si tu l'ignores pendant deux heures, hein.

And whatever I do, I still end up facing the same walls, watching younger and faster souls jumping high above the same barriers I will always struggle to climb.

"Life isn't a competition" sounds only nice when you're winning, kids, and you fucking know-it-alls can stop showing up with your platitude I've heard a thousand times before. If I wanted your opinion, if I wanted your advice, I'd fucking ask. Why is it so hard to understand that I just want a shoulder to cry on and the illusion of being understood and appreciated, not your fucking opinion on the many ways I SHOULD be doing this or that?