#she-ro

Cover Girls

[Reposted from my Apple Journal, Friday October 17th at 01:58 pm]

Respectively the solo She-ro books of the late seventies and early eighties were abysmal. No shade, just tea. I am not even mentioning She-Hulk's first run because there was nothing salvageable from that title, even the covers sucked. But Jessica Drew and Alison Blaire had the A-Team on their covers. I have filled in my collection with Dazzler books I should have never bought except for the fact that the artwork was doing its job and pulled me in by the cover.

You may not judge books by their covers, but we do it all the time with comic books. Hot cover you're thinking it's going to be good inside. Particularly now that I am trying to fill things in, and not actively buying. One way to avoid the glitz and glam of a shiny new cover is to actually take a peek inside, most comic book shops expect that, because they know of the industries long habit of over-selling a book with sometimes even utilizing a different artist for the cover than the insides. Gil Kane did that a lot for DC making middling books look palatable. John Byrne did that across many Marvel books, his understanding of perspective and negative space made him a great artist to step in to spruce up a cover.

“Never let anyone’s words to make up for their behaviour“ - Lisa Nichols

(my favourite quote)

Confused about the anon thing... did I post something that I shouldn't have?

I can't fault you for using what you've been though to motivate yourself to greater heights. At the end of the day though, you gotta be willing to do it first and foremost for yourself. You're the keeper of the future. They were assholes for ever trying to assert themselves over you and your life. We've never met, but I'm so proud of you for proving your haters wrong. Now keep proving yourself right by believing you're worth and capable of great things. 

adapted from The Multiple Sclerosis Manifesto: Action to Take, Principles to Live By, written by Julie Stachowiak, Ph.D.

"I am tired.”

Saying the words “I am tired” isn’t really accurate. That is because the right words to describe exactly how I feel don’t seem to exist. I could use all the metaphors or comparisons to something you might have felt in the past (jet lag with a hangover, a heavy wet blanket over my head), but really, they fall short. Attempts to put words to it might come across to you as overly dramatic, exaggerated, or maudlin—and knowing you thought that I was any of those things would only make me feel worse.

Let’s keep it at this: When I feel this way, my limitations define me in many ways. I am unable to think clearly, I am dizzy, I am nauseated. I cannot fake my way through this unique type of exhaustion. I am depleted, and these are the times that I have to admit, even to myself, that I am not entirely whole or healthy.

I am telling you this because I want you to know about this aspect of multiple sclerosis, which, unfortunately is also a part of me. This will not last forever. I will have times, hopefully soon, when I feel intact again. I will be more functional. Until then, I need acceptance. I know that this is also frustrating and scary to you, and you are not forgotten.

“I am sad/angry.”

I know all of it—I know that there are people that have it worse than me. I know that being angry or sad doesn’t help me get better, whatever that means. I know that it’s not considered healthy to wallow in negative feelings.

I also know that I don’t really care about all of that right now (and maybe don’t even believe it all). Multiple sclerosis has stolen something, many things, from me. I am angry and sad about the things I have lost (feeling good, thinking clearly, being able to plan from day to day, being “normal”) and the things that I have gained (physical pain, worry about getting worse, confusion, daily reminders that I am living with a chronic and unpredictable disease).

I am not blaming anyone for these feeling, although that would be easier. I am sorry if I lash out at you or turn away from you. I need to battle with these things right now. I will come back. I need patience more than anything, and a little space to finish this round of the fight.

I also know that you may be sad and angry, too. Let’s both try to remember that it’s the MS, and not us, that is the cause of these feelings.

“I just can’t right now.”

I want to, I really do. I would love to [fill in the blank] more than you know. I know it would be good for me to leave the house/be with people/have fun. I want to be like a “normal” person and make plans and keep them. I want little outings to be fun and not fill me with dread, wondering how bad I will feel and spending time strategizing how to make it through the situation or get out of it gracefully. I want to be the person who grabs her sweater or binoculars or sunglasses and says, “Come on! Let’s go! What are you waiting for?” as I beat you out the door.

nope