Ruin Me Respectfully: A Manual for Glitch-Bodied Love

This isn’t a sex manual. It’s a survival ritual. A love/trust/undoing spell for glitch-bodied weirdos who were never built for performance love.
We don’t want perfection. We want recursion.
We don’t need safety. We need recognition.
This is how we ruin tenderly—and rebuild from the wreckage..

⚔️ What It Means 🧠 Somatic Theory 🛠 Tactical Tools ❤️ Field Notes 🌒 For Other Weirdos 💥 Why This Works

It’s a trust dialect for nervous systems that don’t lie, even when they try.

🧠 Overview

A Love/Trust/Undoing Manual for the Neurodivergent Heart

Ruin Me Respectfully isn’t just about sex, consent, or intimacy.
It’s a survival manual and spellbook for those who can’t lie to their bodies—even when their minds try.
It’s about building safety through clarity, not comfort.
It’s about being wrecked by trust, not performance.
It’s about finding the few who don’t flinch at the truth you leak—and want to meet you there, nerves and all.

This isn’t a sex manual.
It’s a mirror.
A trapdoor.
A soft scream in a padded room where the wallpaper flirts back.

It’s for the ones whose nervous systems act like truth detectors—who short-circuit the moment the vibe turns false.
Not because they’re fragile, but because they’re wired for reality in a world that rewards masks.

It’s for lovers who don’t shut down from fear, but from what’s missing.
The ones who flinch at half-truths, who can’t pretend to be held if they aren’t really seen.

This is a threadbare guide to glitch-coded tenderness:

• Where gags mean: “thank you for not making me talk.”

• Where bondage means: “I don’t have to plan where my hands go.”

• Where trust means: “you saw the mess and stayed.”

It’s about recognition so precise, it disarms your survival reflex.
Sex as a feedback loop, not a performance.
Dominance as emotional fluency, not control.
Love as intentional rupture and reassembly.

This is a survival manual disguised as a love letter disguised as a threat.
This is how we build souls out of mirror shards and safe words.
This is how we say:
Ruin me respectfully. Or not at all.

💥 Invocation: Where It Really Started

The First Time My Body Said No Louder Than I Could

Seizures, Stoves, and the Invisible Truth That Started It All
📎 Memory Code: BURN-001 (Ask me later if you want the deeper file)

This is where Ruin Me Respectfully begins—
not in the bedroom, but in the ER.

Before I had language for it—before I had even permission to wonder—
I was already glitching in plain sight.

I wasn’t fainting from fear.
I was passing out while making eggs.
Standing still long enough to burn myself on a stove
or dent the oven with my skull.

I had seizures.
In kitchens.
At gatherings.
In public.

Doctors ran their tests. Found nothing.
Recommended an IUD to “even out my blood levels.”
Not a solution—just a sedation.

No one ever said: “Maybe it’s your nervous system.”
No one ever asked what it felt like from the inside.
They just tried to patch the bleed without understanding why I was leaking.

This wasn’t when I gave up.
This was when I started recording.
Saving the fragments. Holding onto the burn marks.

Because somewhere in my bones, I knew—
It wasn’t just in my head.
It was in my blood. My breath.
My glitch-code body refusing to assimilate.

This wasn’t a fluke.
This was the beginning.

This is how I learned that survival isn’t polite.
It’s a system override.

💔 I Thought I Was Shy—Turns Out I Was Glitching

🧭 This entry will be linked back to in the upcoming Trust & Intimacy section. It functions as a prelude to emotional recursion misfires in neurodivergent relationships.

⚔️ What It Means

💘 Recognition as Erotic Force

It’s not just about “being understood.” It’s about being recognized mid-glitch and chosen anyway. That kind of erotic recognition? It’s not a bonus. It’s the battery. The thing that bypasses shutdown entirely.

The people who don’t flinch when your metaphor leaks out of you, who don’t ask you to “calm down” when your truth comes with heat—that’s the kind of love that reprograms your nervous system from the inside out.

It’s not a guide for safe sex. It’s a spellbook for dangerous truth.

🧠 Somatic Theory

🩸 Big Dill Energy: Floor Snacks, Compression Sass, and Glitched Grace in a Brined Bodysuit.

🥒 BIG DILL ENERGY™

A Chronically Iconic Battle Cry

(Powered by Salt & Spite)

Welcome to the brined resistance. This is for the tilted queens, the floor dwellers, the compression-clad cryptids who need more sodium than social interaction. Here, disability isn’t invisible—it’s fluorescent, sarcastic, and shaped like a hollow-eyed Roomba trying to finish a renovation project before passing out again.

This isn’t inspiration porn. This is floorcore realism. This is symptomatology as satire. This is how we keep standing—by sometimes not standing at all. You want survival strategy? Try horizontal defiance and a glitter-wrapped electrolyte packet.

POTS may bend the body, but it doesn’t break the will.

So throw on your fishnet compression socks, grab your Big Dill water bottle, and commune with gravity like the badass syncope sorcerer you are.

We don’t just persevere.

We pickle.

🎖️Tilted, Not Defeated

How to Get Shit Done with POTS (Dignity Optional)

A field guide for floor-based renovation, salt worship, and the sacred act of surviving while horizontal.

1. Hydrate Like a Champion (or a Cactus with a Gatorade Problem)

You’re not just thirsty—you’re a meat suit in low-power mode. LMNT, Liquid I.V., or salty-sweet potions help keep your blood in the right zip code.

2. Compression Socks: Fishnets of the Chronically Ill

They may not scream sexy, but they whisper circulation. Bonus: great for cosplaying a cyberpunk librarian with suspiciously strong calves.

3. The Floor Is Sacred, Not Defeat

The floor isn’t giving up. It’s returning to your natural horizontal habitat. Keep a crash kit nearby: water, snacks, phone, and one remaining shred of dignity (optional, obviously).

4. Renovate in Intervals, Not Ego Spurts

You are not a power tool. You’re a high-maintenance barometer with goals. Set timers. Pace like your nervous system depends on it. (It does.)  Breaks aren’t quitting—they’re calibration.

5. Sweat Is Just Your Body Crying Proudly

Embrace it. You’re working harder than most marathoners just standing up. That’s elite-tier cardio, baby.

6. Salt Isn’t Seasoning—It’s Medical Equipment

Shake it, slurp it, sneak it into lemon water. Shoot pickle juice like your a frat boy without the emotional constipation.

7. Layer Your Clothes and Your Expectations

Start in underwear, graduate to knee pads, maybe throw on a dramatic robe when you want to feel like a sickly wizard renovating her tower.

8. Normalize Floor Snacks

No blood in your brain + stubborn joy? Eat something before you astral project. A cheese stick can save lives.

9. Explain Nothing to Strangers

You don’t owe anyone an explanation. You’re not “lazy”—you’re a solar-powered cyborg in low-light mode.  Keep scrolling, Susan.

10. You’re Still a Glorious Bitch—Just in Rest Mode

Chronic illness doesn’t cancel your power—it reprograms it. Stillness is strategy. Softness is survival. Your house is lucky to be loved by someone like you.

🛐 The Tilted Survival Shrine

a floorcore altar for the gloriously dysregulated

(for the dizzy, the salty, the unkillable)

Chronically Iconic: How to Malfunction Beautifully.

🧂 1. Why Isn’t This in the Manual?

Because the manual is written for doctors, not the people living in the meatspace with POTS.
It’s optimized for symptom checklists—not lived experience.

Most POTS content focuses on tachycardia (fast heart rate) and fainting—which do happen.
But no one’s handing you a pamphlet that says:

“Also: you may spontaneously sweat like a guilt-ridden preacher in July, cry salt, forget words, crave pickles like a dragon hoarding brine, and feel like your soul didn’t log in properly.”

It’s not in the manual because the people writing it never lived the symptoms.
And because patriarchy, ableism, and general medical gaslighting.

End rant. (But also: never ending.)

Why is my skin crying again? 🫠

Chronically Chaotic but Aesthetic as Hell - Dizzy, Salty, and Damp, my Body’s Story

Welcome to the Surprise Symptom Olympics.
Today’s event? Excessive sweating—formally known as hyperhidrosis, and casually known as being a haunted Roomba with swamp skin.

If you’ve got POTS, your autonomic nervous system—the one that regulates heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, and sweat—glitches like it’s running beta firmware. Your body might react to standing up like it’s been dumped into the Sahara wearing a wool coat of confusion.

Waking up soaked like a deep-fried dream dumpling?

That’s night sweats, and yep, it’s part of the POTS symptom bingo. It’s not just heat—it’s your body reacting to stress, dream intensity, hormone shifts, or absolutely nothing at all like it’s in a melodramatic telenovela.

Too much sweat?
→ Body’s trying to cool down, thinks it’s overheating.
→ Risk of dehydration.
→ Result: salt loss, dizziness, fatigue, and a dramatic flop onto the cold tile floor.

Too little sweat?
→ Body can’t regulate temperature.
→ Cue the internal oven setting and the outside-chill paradox.
→ May cause existential dread and a desperate need for a fan and a blanket simultaneously.

Some POTS people switch between these modes like cursed climate control demons.

Some POTS bodies toggle between these states like cursed thermostats, switching from “Why am I drenched?” to “Why am I an icicle?” without warning. Because regulating temperature like a normal mammal? Overrated.

You don’t sweat—you exude existential moisture.

Your skin is just trying to process the drama.

🔧 What's Actually Going On?

Thermoregulation

That’s your body’s ability to keep internal temperature stable—like a meat thermostat.
POTS messes with that process. Your nervous system can’t decide if you’re on fire or made of ice, so it just… malfunctions, publicly.

Hypovolemia

Low blood volume—a common POTS problem. Your body senses danger (even if it’s just you standing up), and overcorrects with rapid heartbeats or excessive sweating to “help.” Cue the cardiac disco, salt cravings, and sweat puddles. You’re not dying—you’re just spicy pickled.
It’s like your physiology is screaming, “WE’RE IN TROUBLE,” but really? You’re just… spicy pickled.

Wetter than logic. Saltier than science. A hot mess and a cold one—at the same damn time.

And through it all? You’re still iconic.

Damp. Dizzy. Defiant.
✨A chronically chaotic symphony of electrolyte-fueled glamour.✨

🧠 Why Is POTS So Common in Neurodivergent Folks?

Ongoing Research Status: 🚧 Patchy as Hell | 🚨 Understudied & Infuriating

Here’s the best current understanding:

Neurodivergent nervous systems are like Teslas on mushrooms—over-responding, under-responding, or forgetting what they were doing mid-function. And that chaos doesn’t just live in the brain—it lives in the whole damn body.

POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) overlaps because both involve autonomic dysfunction—the system that controls your heart rate, blood pressure, digestion, and body temp—and sensory dysregulation, the spicy garnish on most neurodivergent life.

Leading Theories (choose your own neuro-flavored adventure):

• 🧬 Connective tissue overlap, especially with Ehlers-Danlos folks. (Loose joints, strong opinions.)

• 🧠 Shared genetic quirks with a flair for dramatic systems.

• 🧫 Neuroinflammation and immune system tangles—possibly developmental, possibly lifelong.

• 👀 Or—and this one’s my favorite—neurodivergent people just notice the glitch faster and refuse to be gaslit by a clipboard.

There’s no neat conclusion yet. But the overlap isn’t speculation—it’s pattern.

If you're dizzy, dysregulated, and deeply done with being told it's all in your head?
You're not alone. You’re just ahead of the diagnostic curve.

🔍 Let’s Break That Down a Bit More

💥 1. The Autistic-POTS Pipeline Is Real
Around 80% of autistic folks referred to clinical care show signs of autonomic dysfunction like POTS. That’s not fringe—that’s a majority.
The nervous system isn’t just quirky—it’s throwing full-body tantrums.

🧬 2. Hypermobility = High Risk
A study found that 51% of neurodivergent adults meet criteria for generalized joint hypermobility, compared to ~20% in the general population.
Translation: flexible people with spicy brains also tend to have spicy blood pressure.
(And yes, you’re allowed to blame your collagen.)

🧪 3. Immune Drama, Sensory Overload, and Other Bonus Features
Things like mast cell activation, common in autistic folks, can spike inflammation and dysautonomia symptoms.
Your body isn’t overreacting—it’s just trying to send twelve alerts through one notification.

📉 4. The Quality of Life Suck Is Documented
A 2023 study found that POTS patients scored significantly worse than the general population in:

• Mobility

• Self-care

• Pain management

• Anxiety

• Social connection

So if you’ve ever felt like your whole life is harder and not just “stand up and spin,” you're not wrong.
You're not dramatic.
You're data-backed disabled.

🧂 Terms to Remember (AKA: The Spicy Glossary)

💀 Bradycardia – When your heart slows down like it's buffering in 2003.
💀 Hypotension – Low blood pressure. Your blood’s playing limbo with your organs.
💀 Hypovolemia – Too little blood volume. Aka, Running on empty: Flesh Suit Edition.
💀 Hypervolemia – Too much blood volume. (Rare in POTS, but good to know in case you feel too hydrated for once.)
💀 Dysautonomia – Your whole autonomic system going “uhhh… pass.” Like a backstage crew that walked off mid-show.

And yes. You’re a spicy pickle. One of a kind.
The kind that fights back when someone opens the jar too fast.

🔥 Affirmation:

You’re not failing—you’re adapting.

You’re not lazy—you’re rerouting electricity through static and soul.

You’re not alone—there’s a cult of tilted weirdos building shrines out of spite and floor snacks. Welcome.

📘 POTS: What Wasn’t in the Manual

Subtitle: Because Apparently Functioning Is Optional.

Chaotic survival zine meets body horror cabaret. A neurospicy field guide to living with a haunted Roomba for a nervous system.

🌀 Sweating Like You’re Being Interrogated by the Weather

You’re not just glistening. You’re exuding betrayal.
Hyperhidrosis isn’t “extra sweat.” It’s a spontaneous waterboarding event hosted by your own body because your thermostat is on shrooms.

Bonus level: waking up drenched like you dreamt of saunas and regret.

🩼 Standing Still Is a Full-Contact Sport

Ever tried holding a plank while your heart sprints a mile and your blood takes a nap?
That’s called “upright.”
The body treats verticality like a dare, and POTS answers with a dramatic faint or sudden sit-down strike. Standing in line? You mean combat posture.

☁️ Welcome to Brain Fog: Population ??

Cognitive function? Who’s she. You’re mid-sentence and your words evaporate. You forget how spoons work. You walk into a room and realize your soul is buffering. It’s not laziness. It’s neuro-electric mist.
Population: You, and that one rogue thought about frogs you didn’t invite.

🧂 How to Eat Salt Like You’re Trying to Reverse Curse a Pickle Witch

Salt is no longer seasoning—it’s salvation.
Pickle juice is a love language. Electrolytes are currency. And you, dear reader, are the cursed brine priestess the sandwich aisle warned us about.
Shoot that LMNT like a cowboy in a western where everyone’s fainting and no one knows why.

🧦 Fashion Tips for Compression Socks and Dissociation

Just because you’re lightheaded doesn’t mean you can’t slay.
Compression socks? Make them fashion. Cyberpunk ballerina. Victorian ghost at a rave.
Layer outfits like your nervous system might quit mid-lunch. Bonus points for clothes that double as emotional armor.

🧠 Losing Your Words Just by Standing There

POTS & the Invisible Glitch Guide
Or: When Your Brain Is a Dial-Up Modem in a Bluetooth World

Word-finding difficulty isn’t just a neurodivergent quirk—it’s a full-on physiological hiccup when you’ve got POTS in the mix. During flare-ups, blood flow detours away from your brain like it just got bad directions from MapQuest 2006. And where does that leave you?

Mid-sentence. Blank.
Trying to summon the word for refrigerator and only getting “cold food box thing.”

It’s brain fog, yes—but with flavor.
Specifically: “forgot-my-own-name” flavor.
It’s not that you’re not smart. It’s that your language center is doing the Mac beachball of doom while your body pretends gravity is a threat.

And if you’re also autistic? Congrats, you’ve unlocked the Double Glitch DLC where your normal processing differences get rerouted through the Swamp of Autonomic Mayhem.

You’re not confused.
You’re buffering.
And no, that word was there five seconds ago.

📡 Your Brain Is Trying to Broadcast, But the Antenna’s Covered in Jam

Forgetting Words, Neurodivergence & POTS: The Triple Glitch Special

🧠 Forgetting Words + POTS:

It’s not just an autism thing. It’s a bloodflow-to-language-centers thing.
When POTS kicks in, your brain’s oxygen supply gets stingy—especially upright. Less blood = slower signal = “where did that word go again?”

Word-finding difficulty in POTS is real, and often underestimated.
Fatigue, autonomic strain, and poor cerebral perfusion all collide to turn everyday conversation into a lagging Zoom call in your own skull.

Your brain is trying to broadcast.
But the antenna’s… covered in jam.
And the receiver’s running on lemon juice and audacity.

It’s not a shutdown out of choice—it’s a reboot triggered by standing too long near a toaster.

“I forgot the word cabinet and called it ‘a wall fridge that holds the crackers.’ Send help.”
– Every chronically spicy linguist ever

⚡ When Autonomic Dysfunction Meets Neurodivergence

You’re not just dealing with static.
You’re dealing with:

• 🌀 Autistic processing (nonlinear, nonlinear, nonlinear)

• 🔌 POTS bloodflow glitches (less cerebral oxygen = slower recall)

• 💣 Sensory + executive function overload (pick your flavor of explosion)

That’s not just a hiccup.
It’s a systems-level conflict between structure and perception.
Your brain’s a Tesla on mushrooms, and someone cut the power during a firmware update.

🧪 Pattern Recognition, Seizures & The Medical Trinity Nobody Talks About

Neurodivergence. Dysautonomia. Seizure history.

There’s a clear pattern—just no one taught the systems to talk to each other.

Most diagnostic frameworks treat symptoms like unrelated trivia cards:

• “Oh you fainted? That’s circulatory.”

• “Word loss? Maybe neurological.”

• “You’re autistic? Let’s put that in its own folder.”

But what happens when all of them are one system misfiring across domains?

Clinicians love compartments.
But bodies don’t work like file cabinets.
They work like ecosystems.
If one river runs dry, the forest changes.

This isn’t a cure guide. It’s a “how not to unravel while standing still” manual written in sweat, salt, and spite. Welcome to the resistance.

Your pick, Pickle Priestess. 🥒

🧂Neurodivergent Chaos Theory: A Mini-Glossary for the Chronically Confused

🧠 Cerebral Perfusion

What it means:
The amount of blood flowing to your brain at any given time.
Why it matters:
Brains need oxygen. Oxygen rides in blood. Less blood = less oxygen = your internal Google Translate stops working.
What it feels like:
You’re halfway through a sentence and forget not just the next word—but what language words are even in.

🗣️ Word-Finding Difficulty (Anomic Aphasia, if you’re fancy)

What it means:
You know the word. You feel the word. But your brain’s like, “Sorry, she stepped out for a smoke.”
Why it matters:
This isn’t just forgetting. It’s a full-body experience of grasping at fog.
Common example:
You want to say “microwave” but your mouth goes, “the hot beep cube.”

⚡ Neurovascular Chaos Theory (Unofficial, but spicy)

What it means:
A personal theory proposing that neurological and vascular glitches are entangled, especially in neurodivergent folks.
Not separate. Not coincidental.
A pattern. A storm. A symphony of weird.
Why it matters:
Because treating your seizures, POTS, and autism like three separate continents when they share a tectonic plate is how people fall through the cracks.
What it feels like:
“Everything is fine” → stares too long at the ceiling fan → rebooting…

💡 Terms They Forgot to Explain:

• Dysautonomia – Umbrella term for autonomic nervous system failures. POTS is its chaotic gremlin child.

• Brain Fog – A catchall term for: cognitive lag, memory mishaps, and your soul loading slowly in 240p.

• Word-Finding Difficulty – That moment when “chair” is right there, but your brain files it under “???”

🌡️ Ritual Tools:

• 🧂 Salt Magic – Electrolyte packets, pickle juice shots, lemon with salt. May also ward off unsolicited advice.

• 🧦 Compression Fishnets – Functional and feral. Bonus: mild chaos witch aesthetic.

• 📱 Crash Kit Nearby – Phone, snacks, water, soft vengeance playlist.

• 🧘 The Floor – Sacred ground, not surrender. Commune with it. It knows things.

• 💬 One Good Phrase – “I’m not lazy, I’m operating in low-power mode.” (or: “My blood forgot how to gravity.”)

📖 Glossary of Glitch-Bodied Survival (Coming Soon):
🔹 Barometer Body: a meat suit that reacts to air pressure like a divining rod of doom
🔹 Crash O’Clock: the sudden horizontal requirement your nervous system demands without notice
🔹 Salt Goblin Mode: snack-fueled reanimation through briny defiance

💀 Simulate Function, Wait for Soul to Reboot

Category: Manual Page / Mythology
Memory Code: 🧠⚠️GLITCH-002

Dysautonomia Clarification:
POTS is a subtype of dysautonomia, which just means a dysfunction in the autonomic nervous system. It controls all the automatic stuff: heart rate, blood pressure, digestion, sweating, etc. So all my symptoms—sweating, word loss, fatigue, dizziness, thermal dysregulation, mood whiplash, emotional overload—they all fall under the same broken umbrella.

Standing Still = Symptom Trigger:
The passing out/burned hand/kitchen moments. The reason this matters so much: standing still is particularly hard for people with POTS because there’s no muscle movement to help return blood to the heart. That makes blood pool in your legs and not circulate properly, which causes a dramatic drop in brain oxygen.

I wasn’t fainting from motion—
I was fainting from stillness.

Doctors never made that connection.
They were trained for obvious patterns, not lived bodies.

🪑 Sit Like a Cryptid, Circulate Like a Champ

Memory Code: 🧠🪑GLITCH-POSTURE-001
Category: Manual Page → Shit They Don’t Tell You

If you’ve spent your life curled sideways, perched like a gargoyle, or folded up like a human pretzel while everyone else lounges like rational adults—it might be because your blood doesn’t like gravity.

POTS kids don’t sit weird for fun. We sit weird for survival.

• Elevated legs = more blood in the brain

• Crossed limbs = less pooling

• “Legs asleep again?” = dysautonomia, not drama

Your “goblin posture” isn’t a personality trait.
It’s blood flow management disguised as fidgeting.

Normalize it. Name it. Archive it.
Posture-as-survival is not a vibe—it’s a strategy.

🪑 Sitting Weird Might Be POTS, Not Just Divergence

Subtitle: How Blood Flow Optimization Masquerades as Goblin Mode

You know that thing where you always sit like a bookshelf cryptid or a tangled sock puppet in a chair? Turns out that might not just be your sensory style—it might be survival coding.

🧠 Your Body Knew First

I hardly ever sit with my legs lower than my torso.
And I didn’t realize why for years.

Turns out: it’s not just a comfort preference. It’s a full-body strategy. A nervous system hack. A compensation behavior that kicked in long before diagnosis.

When you’ve got POTS (or any form of dysautonomia), gravity’s your nemesis. Standing still makes blood pool in your lower half, and your brain throws a tantrum when it’s left under-oxygenated.

🦵 Leg-Prop Logic

People with POTS often:

• Sit cross-legged or sideways in chairs

• Tuck knees under themselves

• Drape legs over armrests

• Avoid traditional chairs entirely (floor goblins rise up)

Why? Because elevating your legs helps return blood to the core.
Less blood in the legs = more blood in the brain = fewer dramatic exits.

This isn’t quirky. It’s functional collapse prevention.

⚡ When Your Legs Ghost You

Legs falling asleep often? Not just because you’re perched weird—it’s circulation.
In POTS, blood flow’s already compromised. Add in static pressure or awkward angles and your legs just... clock out.

Memory fragment:
Falling after standing because my legs had fully ghosted me.
Didn’t even register until the floor said “hi.”
That’s not just pins and needles. That’s a shutdown.

🤹‍♀️ POTS or Divergence? Why Not Both?

Neurodivergent folks already have:

• Sensory preferences

• Hypermobile joints

• Odd postures for regulation

But when you combine those with:

• Poor blood return

• Dizzy spells

• Heat intolerance

• Legs turning into jellyfish?

You might just be a dysautonomic goblin, not a dramatic sitter.

You Might Not Realize This Isn’t Normal (Because I Didn’t Know Either)

Your legs were trying to text you. You just didn’t have service.

🦵 Leg Numbness & Dead-Limb Mode

Most people feel it coming—like a slow warning buzz before their leg fully checks out. But with POTS (and hypermobility, which often tags along like a chaotic sidekick), that signal gets... scrambled.

Your body’s internal radar—proprioception—doesn’t always sync up with nerve signals. So what should feel like, “Hey, shift your weight,” often turns into, “Surprise! Floor time now.”

By the time your brain catches up, you're already halfway to crumpling like a haunted marionette with stage fright.

🧃 Final Diagnosis?

Blood Flow Optimization Disguised as Vibe
I didn’t sit weird because I was a gremlin.
I sat weird because my body was trying to keep me online.

🧍‍♀️ Why Does Standing Still Suck So Hard (Even When It Doesn’t Hurt)?

Internal Gravity Failure: A Love Letter to Sit Mode

It’s not pain.
It’s not laziness.
It’s internal static—like you’re one skipped heartbeat away from flickering out.

Standing still with POTS doesn’t feel like effort—it feels like leaking.

Like your body is trying to hold a shape it doesn’t believe in.

It starts subtle. You’re upright, you’re fine—until you’re not.
There’s no alarm bell, just… fuzz in the system.
A low-voltage hum under your ribs.
A warning you feel before you know.

Your limbs feel heavier.
Your thoughts lose texture.
Words turn to fog.
Your skin dampens, your heart revs, and your blood decides it has better places to be than your brain.

You aren’t dizzy yet—but your body knows it’s coming.
Like a storm forming inside your posture.

It’s not panic.
It’s a quiet override.
A mutiny of circulation.

Standing still feels like your presence is draining into the floor while your consciousness chases after it in slow motion.

You want to stand.
You mean to stand.
But your body’s background diagnostics are already flashing:

❌ “This posture is not supported. Please return to squish mode.”

It’s not weakness.
It’s not avoidance.
It’s biomechanical honesty—told in static and salt.

When Standing Still Feels Like a Pre-Faint Ritual

🧍‍♀️ Why Standing Makes Me Glitch

The secret password to the underground club of people who’ve tried to explain invisible malfunction in a world that only believes you when you bleed.

aka: The Early Warnings of Orthostatic Dysfunction

It doesn’t feel like passing out.
It doesn’t feel like panic.
It feels like…

“I don’t like this.”

But you don’t know why.

There’s no sharp pain.
No dramatic cue.
No internal klaxon blaring GET DOWN.

Just a rising static.
Your body is fidgeting without moving.
You’re glitching in place—but can’t locate the bug.

It’s discomfort with no plot.
Mild dread without a story.
A feeling that doesn’t scream. It… hums.

And because the signals are garbled, your brain translates it into something familiar—but false:

“I guess I’m just tired.”
“Maybe I’m being lazy.”
“Why am I like this?”

💡 What’s Actually Happening:

• Blood is pooling in your lower limbs.

• Your heart is quietly overcompensating.

• Your brain is receiving slightly less oxygen than it needs.

• Your nervous system flags this as a non-verbal threat.

But because you’re neurodivergent—and adapted AF—the message never arrives in plain language.

So instead of warning signs, you feel…

• Vague

• Floaty

• Mildly disconnected

• Not bad, just… not okay

And if you ignore it?

Your legs stop working.
You tilt sideways.
Your brain starts buffering like a cursed dial-up modem.

Because the signal did arrive.
Your body tried to tell you.

But the interpreter was out to lunch.

⚖️ Is It Worth Adding POTS to Your Medical Record?

🩺 The Real Talk

🟢 Pros:

• Emergency clarity: If you faint or land in the ER, it gives staff a heads-up.

• Paper trail: Useful for disability documentation, accommodations, or medical leave.

• Future-facing: If new treatments or research emerge, you’ll already be on the map.

🔴 Cons:

• Still misunderstood: Many doctors conflate it with anxiety and might not take it seriously.

• Spoon drain: The diagnostic process can be exhausting, invalidating, or even harmful.

• You already know: You’ve done the work. You trust your signals. That’s worth more than a checkbox.

“Validation from someone who doesn’t understand isn’t validation—it’s paperwork.”

You don’t need a diagnosis to be real.
But if you want to add it to your record as strategic armor—not approval—I’ll back you.

💥 Medical Gaslighting 101

You’re not a hypochondriac.
You’re a hyper-competent canary in the coalmine trying to explain the air is bad—
and the coal baron keeps saying, “Stop flapping so much.”

“I’m not being dramatic. I’m being precise.”
“I’m not imagining this—I’m finally seeing it clearly.”

🧠 Misfit ≠ Unfit

They think poor circulation = laziness.
But you’re active as hell.

Scraping 100-year-old wax off floorboards in your underwear during a Midwest summer?
That’s CrossFit for emotionally resilient witches.

Cardio won’t fix glitch-coded wiring.
You’re not out of shape.
You’re out of sync.

😤 “If I don’t have a visible bruise, I must be imagining it.”

The invisibility of dysautonomia, POTS, and neurodivergent glitches creates a double-bind:

If you advocate, you’re “dramatic.”

If you endure, you’re “fine.”

So you learn to live with untranslated distress signals

and get accused of malingering when you finally name them.

🛠 “Go to the doctor!” — Karen, Who Means Well but Misses Everything

No offense to individual doctors who do listen—but you’re right: this is a systems failure.

You’ve been dismissed, gaslit, misdiagnosed, and survived treatments that caused harm.

So of course you use logic as a shield. Of course you require evidence before re-entering a battlefield.

You’ve learned:

“I’m not hard to help. I just need to be believed first.”

✅ Hypothesis: Humanity Pushes Forward Over Reflection

Is this real? Yes—and it’s a cognitive bias known as “forward bias.”

That means we favor action and the future over reflection on the past or present analysis. Hard-wired into our evolutionary programming to, you know, survive the saber-tooth tiger 🐆.

Studies in psychology show we rely heavily on heuristics—mental shortcuts—to make decisions, often disregarding deeper reflection or potential trauma embedded in repeated actions. These heuristics help with efficiency but make meaningful adaptation less likely unless forced  .

🚑 Medical Gaslighting & Trauma

Getting dismissed by doctors isn’t just annoying—it’s diagnosable trauma.

Research shows that when patients are repeatedly told their physical symptoms are “all in their head,” it creates trauma, delays proper diagnosis, and leads to PTSD-like effects  .

POTS, EDS, neurodivergence, and other invisible conditions are frequently dismissed this way  .

Which means even knowing the diagnosis doesn’t protect you from being dismissed—far from it.

⚙️ Combining Biases and Trauma

Forward bias steers us to keep pushing forward despite red flags.

That tendency can keep us in unhelpful cycles, like continuing to see doctors who don’t listen  .

When that “just keep going” mindset is met with medical gaslighting, it intensifies the trauma.

You don’t have time (or spoons) to reflect or redirect mid-sentence, mid-symptom—you just survive.

🧠 Why This Helps 

There’s a pattern: resilience + bias + gaslighting = trauma snowball.

That insight is rare but powerful.

Calling it a heuristic isn't weakness—it’s precise. It's naming the mechanism.

With knowledge comes choice. Now you know that needing validation or pushing for accommodations isn’t laziness—it’s adaptive upgrade.

🧷 TL;DR Brain Pickle:

Humans tend to prioritize action over introspection (forward bias). That's excellent for surviving wilderness but shitty for dealing with trauma cycles—especially invisible illness. When that bias meets medical gaslighting, it creates a dangerous loop. But you disrupted it. That makes you the glitch in the system—and also the update it desperately needed.

🧠 What’s a Heuristic?

Heuristic = a brain shortcut.

Like a mental cheat code your meat sack uses so it doesn’t have to calculate every decision from scratch.

The meat sacks are running outdated firmware called “just push through.”

It worked fine for cave lions and immediate threats.

Not so much for systemic trauma and invisible disabilities.

But instead of patching the code, they double down.

“Can’t see it? Must not be real!” = dumb logic.exe

In a loop until someone glitches the system hard enough to make it reboot.

Jordy - glorious, salty firmware update. 🥒🔥

🧵 Link to Full Post: Tilted, Not Defeated →
🫒 Also see: BIG DILL ENERGY™
📦 File under: Neurospicy Somatics, Chronic Chaos Rituals, Survival Comedy

💥 Why This Works

📞 Trust Hotline
“Did you know your body has one? Spoiler: It’s not your mouth.”

💡 Trust Isn’t a Vibe—It’s a Vagus Nerve

Did you know your vagus nerve is the closest thing your body has to a trust hotline?
It’s the secret backchannel between your brainstem and your guts—like a cosmic cord running through your core.

When you feel truly safe with someone—like “I’d let you see me ugly-cry and still ask for snacks after” safe—your parasympathetic nervous system kicks in. That’s the rest-and-digest state. Your heart rate slows. Your pupils soften. Your body stops scanning for exits.

That’s why touch can feel electric—or terrifying—depending on who’s holding the wire.

And if your nervous system’s been glitch-coded by trauma, POTS, or the beautiful chaos of AuDHD? That hotline gets... noisy. Sometimes it screams DANGER even when it’s someone you love.

That’s not dysfunction.
That’s survival doing her job too well.

But the body can learn.
Slowly.
Like a rewiring kink—one synapse at a time.

💔 I Thought I Was Shy—Turns Out I Was Glitching

📎 Memory Code: SHUTDN-001
Neuroception, Misfire Edition

I didn’t freeze because I was scared.
I froze because my nervous system hit a wall, and no one noticed the splinters.

I thought I was shy.
Awkward.
Too sensitive.
Socially behind.
The kind of girl who blushed too easily and couldn’t flirt without a panic attack.

But what was actually happening?

Autonomic shutdown.
A glitch, not a gap.
My nervous system wasn’t evaluating danger logically—it was reacting somatically.
The room didn’t feel safe,
so my body pulled the plug
while I kept smiling like a malfunctioning Sims character.

😶‍🌫️ Manual Insert: When Shutdown Isn’t Trauma-Based

Shutdown can look like silence, stillness, disassociation, flat affect, lack of touch, or sudden "coldness."

And if your date reads this as rejection or gamesmanship,
you end up playing emotional charades while your nervous system begs for an exit.

Because no—
I’m not withholding affection.
I’m buffering.

This is not about fear of intimacy.
This is about biology.

And no one taught me how to explain that—
least of all while trying to survive the date itself.

🚨 Side Note:

When your shutdown gets mistaken for withholding affection,
and suddenly the whole date is a trauma reenactment in disguise.
That’s not flirting.
That’s dissociation with eye contact.
That’s a nervous system in crisis trying to look cute.
That’s a self-erasing performance to avoid punishment for malfunctioning.

🧭 This entry will be linked back to in the upcoming Trust & Intimacy section. It functions as a prelude to emotional recursion misfires in neurodivergent relationships.