Ash

We need to start commenting under other people's posts about how to properly warn for flashing lights and eyestrain. We need to be emailing and calling companies about their possibly triggering advertisements that could induce seizures. We need to stop tolerating ableism and start speaking up for the more vulnerable.

Also, stop putting epilepsy warnings. That's like saying "warning: schizophrenia" on a post including unreality or "warning: dyslexia" on a post with a typing quirk. First off, the disability mentioned isn't the only group of people that this could trigger. Second, it doesn't truly get the message across and instead makes it worse for those with the disability-- scrolling through the epilepsy tag on Tumblr should get you to view the content of other epileptic people, but no, you just get a bunch of flashing lights and eyestrain, even though you could instead tag for, oh I dunno, flashing lights and eyestrain.

You know, that's a funny thing. It's a thought that came to me from Harry Potter, that really nowadays getting mail is not too interesting. Since we have better and quicker ways to communicate, no human will send you anything in the mail. So you only receive bills in it, really. Lots of things that are important, some could've been an email, some are also sent by emails, but none of which is exciting. There has never been once in my life I was told I got mail that I had a reason to be excited about it.

The exception is getting packages. The advent of the Internet, besides killing private mail, created the possibility of ordering things from far away and receiving packages you bought and sent to yourself, essentially. And by happenstance, I am currently waiting for a package from abroad. However, it's not going to arrive in a week at least, because this is how things work nowadays. Which, if we're being honest, is more reliable than sending a letter a century ago, probably.

Midway through talking about my symptoms my voice audibly started shaking as I was describing them, clearly upset.

In the middle of my monologue he turns the tablet to face me, closes whatever program he has open and the wallpaper is this fucking collage of pictures of lord farquaad from shrek, lovingly decorated. Dude just sat there placidly smiling at me until I noticed and stopped dead in the middle of a sentence. We sat there in silence like this for like a solid minute before I started wheezing laughing. Before I could even say anything else or process it he picked up the tablet and wordlessly left the room, and I just sat there dumbfounded until the doctor showed up. 10/10 doctor experience tbh

I didn’t own a cell phone at the time to get a photo so this rendition from memory is all I can provide you