Cie's Year-End Wrap-Up 2018


I love the above image. Back in the late 1990s, I went to school for one semester for graphic design but dropped out. I didn't know it at the time, but I had untreated type 2 bipolar disorder, OCD, and borderline personality disorder, three exciting co-morbid conditions which happen to feed each other in ways that are just, shall we say, really special. I wouldn't be properly diagnosed until 2004.
When I think of how many years were wasted mired in shame and stigma because I had no idea in this Universe what was going on with me, I thought I was just an attention-seeking fuckup, it makes me very angry. Granted, some of the tools available to me now simply didn't exist when I was younger. E-commerce was in its infancy in the 1990s. There were no smartphones. 
Hell, even GPS was still in its infancy. (I still have my TomTom Go.) The job I have today could not have existed in the 1990s. Back when dinosaurs and Ronald Reagan roamed the Earth in 1984, I delivered pizzas. Even the TomTom Go was as yet unheard of. How the hell my dyslexic ass didn't get lost more often, I'll never know. When I think of trying to do my job without Waze, it gives me that feeling of waking up with a start after a terrible dream and praising whatever powers there might be that the dream isn't real.
So, I didn't initially come here to talk to you about type 2 bipolar disorder, but now that I've thought about it, I want to talk about it. This is how people tend to think of bipolar disorder, and it's a reasonably accurate depiction of type 1 bipolar disorder.


The post that the image comes from is worth reading.
The late Patty Duke had type 1 bipolar disorder. She is a personal heroine of mine. Her book, Call Me Anna, helped me understand better the things that I had gone through and to help me forgive myself for some of the truly awful decisions I made while hypomanic. 
Being diagnosed with type 2 bipolar disorder helped me understand why I had seen some features of bipolar disorder in myself but was convinced that I didn't have it because I'd never experienced a full mania. I tended to go from crushingly depressed to positive and overly functional. I never flew off to Vegas and got married to a guy I barely knew or anything of that nature, although I did convince myself several times that the Universe wanted me to be with guys who raised red flags like nobody's business and who, unsurprisingly, turned out to be horrible and abusive.
When I was hypomanic, I would take on second jobs and be the world's greatest employee that everyone loved until everything came crashing down and everyone ended up thinking I was the world's biggest flake and fuckup. I would be mired in depression which felt like being at the bottom of a dark pit that there was no way out of. 
When I would finally, miraculously, find myself pulled out of that pit, I would admonish myself that from now on I would be positive and productive and would never go back THERE again. When I inevitably went back there again, I would shame and berate myself for being a worthless fuckup.

Click to enlarge. 

This is a fairly standard bipolar disorder screening questionnaire. It tends to miss people with type 2 bipolar disorder.
Was there ever a period of time when I wasn't myself? No. I was always myself, although I often didn't like it very much. 
The late Peter Steele of Type O Negative, who had type 1 bipolar disorder, describes reflecting on occasions following a manic episode where he felt that there was something he could have learned from the time in question if only he could remember it. I never experienced anything like that.
I've never presented as talking extremely fast or seeming particularly hyper. I've never slept well anyway, so the "sleeping less than usual" criteria didn't send up any red flags. The late Julia Lennon described having periods where she wouldn't sleep for a week at a time, and doctors didn't know what was wrong with her. She was institutionalized on several occasions.
I did get involved in ill-advised relationships with abusive guys, but I never flew off to Vegas to do so. I took on multiple jobs and then crashed, often losing all of my jobs. When I was good, I was very very good, and when I was bad I was nonfunctional. 
I speak openly about my mental health struggles because I would be very happy if no-one else ever had to fight the way I've had to fight. I've been told that I should keep my psych problems hidden because people would avoid me if they knew I was one of THEM. I was told I would never find a job if people knew I'd been to a therapist. 
I was also told that I was "just being dramatic," that I needed to "stop seeking attention," that I was "just being lazy," and that I brought all my problems on myself with my "negative thinking." I can tell you that none of these criticisms did a damn thing to help me improve my life or to do anything except hide my problems and hate myself because I was never able to develop any decent coping skills for dealing with them until I was in my middle years. At this point, I'm still cleaning up the messes made by attempting to hide my problems, such as a storage unit full of stuff and a mountain of debt.
We've come a long way when it comes to mental illness in Western society, but we haven't come far enough. There is still a tendency to see people with mental issues as less intelligent or less capable or as loose cannons just waiting to explode and harm others. The truth is, people who live with mental illness are more likely to be victims of violence than to perpetrate violence.
There is a tendency to see jobs such as mine as "lesser" and to believe that the working poor, unemployed, and homeless "deserve" to not have basic amenities or a living wage. This needs to end. Everybody deserves the basic amenities, whether or not they are capable of working a "normal" job or at all.
I heard the term "lazy" so many times that I ended up with a terrible complex about taking breaks or doing things that are purely enjoyable and will never turn a profit. I once read a statement from a counselor which said that the term "lazy" should be replaced with "demotivated," because asking a person why they are so lazy shuts down the conversation and thus any chance of helping the person, whereas asking them why they are feeling demotivated leaves the conversation open and may help create a plan for helping them.
Exploitative shows like "Hoarders" should not exist. Like, at all. Capitalizing on people's illness for entertainment is twisted and barbaric. Hoarding is a subtype of obsessive-compulsive disorder. It is the symptom of malfunction in a certain area of the brain. It is not "laziness." Dealing with hoarding tendencies is exhausting, time-consuming, and life-destroying. People with hoarding tendencies need help from a compassionate professional, not a bunch of lookie-loos seeking schadenfreude at another's expense.
My son is helping me deal with the lifetime of hoarding without help contained in my storage units and the closets and spare rooms of the mobile home that I hope to have in a condition where I can think about selling it by the end of next year. With his help, the storage unit, which is about the size of a one-car garage, is 1/3 of the way clear at this point, and we are hoping to have it entirely clear by June of 2019. 
My late father attempted to "help with cleaning," but his help really only traumatized me and made me feel more ashamed, which didn't lead to me keeping up with the process. My son is understanding when I tell him that I can't deal with a certain item at the moment and we'll need to put it aside. We move on to the next thing. He also suggests creating scrapbooks and art from my vast collection of images from magazines, unlike my father, who told me that "anything that lands on the floor needs to be thrown in the garbage."
My father had piles of papers and magazines all over his house. He had OCD with hoarding tendencies too, but he came from an era when one locked their mental health issues in an attic and never spoke of them. This helped nothing, which is why I have come out of the attic and am speaking openly about my struggles.
For years I refused to make New Year's resolutions because I had learned to equate them with "new you in 52" crap, which really benefits no-one but the billion-dollar diet industry. I refuse to have or promote weight loss as a "health goal." 
I spent 33 years in yo-yo dieting hell trying to hate myself thin. There is no way I'm going to endorse that behavior. I'm going batshit at this point with all the blogs in my sidebar promoting "get paid to lose weight" garbage. You'll never see me promoting these things because dieting inevitably fails for everyone but statistical unicorns.
Diets don't work. Health at Every Size works. If you want to start exercising, increase the amount you're exercising, or eat fewer processed foods, great, but do it for overall health, not for weight loss.
We'll all be a "new you in 52" anyway. We'll have new experiences behind us, and many of our cells will have been replaced by new ones. Don't buy into the "new you in 52" crap. It only leads to frustration. Instead, pursue things that will lead to a more authentic you. 
Your authentic you has nothing to do with a number on the scale or even the amount of money in your bank account. It is the you who is true to themselves, which has nothing to do with looks or status at all.

Best wishes in the coming year,
Cie







Weekend Writing Warriors 30 December 2018 (ER, FA, PA, RO)


The following is an excerpt from our forthcoming release, Sanguine and Scandalous, to be released on the first day of 2019.

Little Arvin Flurry, better known as Tinsel, a Christmas elf who was just one day shy of 15,000 years old, woke up in a daze in his reindeers’ stall. A caramel-colored doe called Delight nuzzled Tinsel’s golden curls and licked his face. Tinsel steadied himself against Delight’s sturdy frame and rose shakily to his feet. Once he was steady enough to run without falling over, he hurried to the palace to find what he already knew to be the case: his wife of 13,775 years, Felice Navidad the Frost Queen, was missing.
Tinsel quickly hitched Delight and a spirited young buck called Pumpkin to a sleigh and ordered them to take him to Felice.
“Stealthy now, Mates,” the elf cautioned. “We are entering the material realm. I could call it quaint were I feeling kind, but savage is far closer to the truth. Mortals are a violent lot, and when a mortal with all its unchecked appetites is made immortal, it’s a recipe for disaster to be sure.”

Cie for Naughty Netherworld Press


Team Naughty Netherworld wishes each of you a very happy New Year and much success with all your goals. 

Check out our entire collection of sizzling stories, available only on Kindle.

Treat Yourself to Carnal Invasion VII Free For Five Days!


Team Naughty Netherworld wishes all our readers a very happy holiday if you celebrate, or just a good day if you don't. Either way, we have a special gift for you. The thrilling seventh installment of the Carnal Invasion series is free to enjoy from December 25, 2018 through December 29, 2018!
This sweet and spicy tale features our lusty Gamma Iridian sex fiends, plus scheming billionaire vampires, a jilted BBW baker, and an adorable Christmas elf. Horns, lips, and loins lock often in this steamy installment of the quirky, explicit, one-of-a-kind Carnal Invasion smut-o-verse.
This is our most plot-heavy installment in the Carnal Invasion series, but, fear not, Fiends, we do not sacrifice the Good Parts for intrigue. All the Naughty Bits are explicitly yours, as you have come to expect from a Naughty Netherworld tale.
We felt that the stunning image created by the wonderful DeeDee51 bore a striking resemblance to CI7's new darling, Keke Padovan. The twenty-year-old I.T. intern begins the tale as a starry-eyed ingenue carrying a torch for Xquenda Jewels' vice president, Sonny Walton. Keke is perceptive enough to see behind the glamorous facade presented by Sonny and his scheming adoptive father Tobias, and canny enough to make the sketchy reality work to her advantage.
If you like no-holds-barred explicit erotica, unique characters, and a plethora of plot twists, you won't want to miss Carnal Invasion VII, particularly when we're putting it into your hot little hands free for the next five days. Get yours now!

Cie
for Team Naughty Netherworld


Happy Xmahanukwanzyule 2018


(This post was written on the Deliver Me blog and cross-posted)

Happy holidays if you celebrate them and best wishes for prosperity in the approaching year!
It has been an eventful and not terribly lucrative year here in the World of Nether, but many of our efforts are still in their infancy and I like to think that things are looking up and that perseverance still counts for something. To a degree, these are uncharted waters that we are navigating with the rise of the gig economy. So, what can we do to make this unprecedented situation work for us?
For my own part, I have a knack for speaking my mind, such as it is, and for telling it like it is from my point of view. This has tended to get me in trouble, but the older I get the less fucks I give. 


However, I do not intend to use this so-called skill only to bitch about everything that pisses me off. I would also like to use it to help others. 
For many years, I worked as a nurse's aide and then a nurse. I helped those who were too infirm to care for their own needs. This included the elderly and special needs children. However, my own constitution declined sharply in the past couple of years, and I can no longer do the physically demanding jobs that I had been doing since 1988.
My income declined sharply when I was no longer able to work as a nurse. Between 2015 and 2017, I was pulling up to $1000 per week if I worked 60 hour weeks. However, I was constantly exhausted and always in a mental fog working this many hours. In some ways I'm amazed that I never made any critical errors.
I am unable to work full time at this point, and my disabilities put me out of the running for most "normal" jobs. Because of my health issues, I need Medicaid. But if I make more than $1100 a month, I lose Medicaid. To me, it seems as if I'm being punished for being disabled. I think that punishing people for being disabled is one whole steaming load of crap. I also think that Charles Dickens would have a field day writing about the current political climate in the era of Lord Dampnut. In fairness, being British, he might be more inclined to write about Brexit and Lord Dampnut's British soul twin, Boris Johnson.
In any case, I am trying to piece together a life that works. Other than being broke and physically unable to do certain things that I used to be able to do without issue, there are many ways in which I like my life after disability better than my life before disability. I like not being enslaved by a time clock. I much prefer soft deadlines to Draconian ones.
Overall, I am a creative rather than a practical person. If I could, I would spend my days writing, learning to draw, engaging in Photoshop Phucquery, hand crocheting, loom knitting, woodworking, making soap and candles, and whatever other artsy fartsy crafty wafty pursuit happened to strike my fancy. I attempt to keep my artsy fartsy side separate from the Deliver Me blog, but there is inevitable bleed-through, and I'm not going to fight the tide too hard.
If you are interested in opportunities for writers or occasional shares of poetry and prose, visit the Horror Harridans Writing Sisterhood page.
If you are interested in WAH opportunities, recipes, and suggestions for saving money, visit the Deliver Me blog.
If you are interested in reading high quality Kindle smut, visit the Naughty Netherworld Press blog. This blog is safe for work, but some of the places it links to aren't. 
If you are interested in obtaining a Tarot reading to help you kick-start the new year, click here.
May you and yours have a pleasant holiday if you celebrate, or a good day in general if you don't.

Best wishes,
Cie

This offer is valid through December 30, 2018


This offer is always in season

Weekend Writing Warriors 23 December 2018 (RO, ER)


Ambrosia Luna was always surprised and grateful when she thought about how lucky she was to have a boyfriend like Sonny Walton. Nobody believed that a guy like Sonny could ever go for a woman like Ambrosia. Sonny was the son of a billionaire tycoon, slated one day to take over his father’s position as president of Xquenda Jewels. Ambrosia was a baker of modest means.
Sonny was extremely good-looking. He was toned and muscular and had golden-blond hair the color of honey and intense ultramarine eyes. He had chiseled cheekbones and a strong, square jaw. He looked like the kind of guy who probably played football and dated the head cheerleader in high school.
Ambrosia did not look to be at all Sonny’s type.

Snippet from Naughty Netherworld Press' 2018 Xmahanukwanzyule release, Carnal Invasion VII: The Xquenda Chronicles Plus Naughty Netherworld Fairytales:  Ambrosia’s Sweet Holiday Surprise

Notes:
This tasty tidbit features the opening paragraphs of our forthcoming holiday special story destined to become a Christmas Classic, as Beavis would say.
We are also planning on releasing a New Years short-short with a shocking reveal and will feature a snippet from that Holiday Classic at the appropriate time.
Carnal Invasion VII will be unleashed on the world in the wee hours of December 24, 2018. Ready or not, here it comes!
The bad girls and boys of Naughty Netherworld Press would like to wish you all a very happy holiday and good cheer in the new year.



Check out our library of "Christmas Classics" on Kindle


Sly Speaks: Why I Noped Out of my Hysterectomy


I'm 53 years old and I have a history of sexual trauma and issues with my endocrine system including my reproductive system. I have PCOS. I have a degree of endometriosis, and I have polyps and fibroids in my uterus. The fibroids are small, not some grapefruit-sized thing.
I avoided having pelvic exams for close to 30 years because of past sexual trauma and fear of being shamed for being a larger person. I finally found a doctor I could trust to be honest with about my plumbing problems, so to speak. I see her quarterly because of my endocrine issues. When I told her that I had my "annual period" and was hoping this would be the last year for that mess, she said that wasn't normal and referred me to a gynecologist.
The gynecologist was a very sweet person who made me feel at ease. She never shamed me for my size. She did a D&C, which sucked because I felt like someone had been up in my business with a cheese grater, but I wanted to rule out cancer. The biopsy showed that I have simple endometrial hyperplasia with no cellular atypia. My risk of developing uterine cancer is 1.6% greater than the risk for someone who has no hyperplasia.
Hyperplasia is par for the course in someone with diabetes and PCOS. I produce too much estrogen. My primary care doctor is having me try a bio-identical progesterone, which may reverse some of the issues with my plumbing. One can always hope.
I was scheduled to have a hysterectomy, but I canceled the night before. Let me be clear that I'm not fanatical about women keeping their uterus come hell or high water. My son's best friend's mother had such horrible endometriosis that it had invaded her digestive tract. Some people have fibroids the size of a full-term fetus. There is no reason that these people should be forced to keep an organ that is malfunctioning to that degree. But this is not my case.
I always had miserable periods from hell and was glad when they came to an end. Initially, I was gung-ho to get rid of my reproductive organs, but after doing some research I realized I might be trading one problem for another (i.e. my incontinence could get significantly worse) and the inside of my hoo-hah could turn into the Great Southern Desert for the remainder of my life. In the end, it didn't seem worth it to undergo major surgery for a 1.6% higher risk of possible uterine cancer down the line.
Although two of the doctors involved in the process are women themselves (the person who would have done the surgery is a man) and they were all respectful to me, not a single one of them said a thing about the downside of having a hysterectomy. I think that doctors are taught to have this attitude that post-menopausal women are no longer able to have children, so why not just take the uterus out? But major surgery comes with risks. For me to agree to it, the risks have to outweigh the benefits, and they simply do not in this case.

~Sly Has Spoken~

Image copyright Juliahenze @123rf.com


Weekend Writing Warriors 16 December 2018 (ER, SF)


“Gracias, Jefe,” Krystal finally managed. “When La Jefa come here, she took us off guard. She drain us of energy, and she take Mami Wella away.”
“What does La Jefa want with Wella?” Max demanded, worried for the safety of his child’s mother. “And how did she wrap you up like a spiderweb? Is she, like, Spiderman?”
“Well, sort of like Spiderman, I suppose, except only she ain’t a man,” Jewel replied. “La Jefa, she kinda like a vampire and kinda like a spider, and kinda like a Medusa. If you look in her eyes, you gonna be in her control. Then she gonna wrap you up in her web and feed from your energy.”

Excerpt from The Dark Delights of Mistress Kali
Available from Naughty Netherworld Press on Kindle


Unique and Unusual Gifts: I Heart Guts Plushies

Cuddly Uterus by I Heart Guts

This is not my uterus. My uterus resembles a Lovecraftian horror, which is why it is being removed.
This is my gift to myself for undergoing the procedure to remove said eldritch horror.
They have a lot of other viscera and offal made adorable as well, a perfect gift for your weird friends and family members who may be having to endure miserable medical procedures and need a little cheering up, or for aspiring medical students.
I have been enduring a range of unexpected emotions regarding this procedure, even though I have been putting up with issues caused by the eldritch horror for quite some time and it's time for a resolution to those issues. Anxiety about the surgery is to be expected, but I have also been experiencing feelings of remorse and anger as well as bouts of weepiness, which is not par for the course for me. So I bought myself a cuddly uterus to cheer myself. It is due to arrive on Christmas Eve.
Get your own friendly viscera and offal by clicking one of the links below!

Your Hostess Soon To Be Down One Womb,
Cie


Sly Speaks: Me Too: The Work Edition

Copyright Tara O'Brien

I was thinking back to a "wonderful" incident which happened while I was working as an assistant district manager at the Denver Post in 1986. One of the carriers became friendly with me, initially in a perfectly acceptable and professional way, and I enjoyed our little chats. But then one day he said to me: "I'd like it if I could give you a hug sometime and maybe a kiss."
A lot of you ladies, particularly of my generation or older, will be able to relate when I say that I was trained from a young age to "be a lady" when a situation like this arises and to "not hurt his feelings," so rather than asking him in what the hell universe hitting on his supervisor was appropriate, my first response was to say "I'm married," so I wouldn't hurt his feelings. As if doing this sort of creepy thing would have been appropriate if his target wasn't married.
My initial reaction is to think what a doormat I was for reacting this way. Plus I never even told my supervisor, because I didn't want to get the guy in trouble. But my next reaction is to be angry that I believed his feelings were more important than mine, which was disgust and betrayal.
So, yeah, not going to be angry at my younger self for being taken aback and not behaving in a more assertive fashion in this lurid situation. The guy displayed not only gross sexism in having zero respect for my position of albeit mild authority just because I was a young woman, but he displayed zero respect for me as a human being in seeing me as an object that he could potentially grope and slobber on.
For some reason, when I was younger I seemed to draw a lot of creepers like this to me, probably because I tried to be nice. I'm honestly not at all sorry that my current age tends to render me invisible to this breed of asshole most of the time.

~Sly Has Spoken~

Graphic copyright Juliahenze @123rf.com

Cheesy Cinema Review: The Christmas Chronicles Would Have Been Better Without the Side Order of Size Shaming


I may be a curmudgeon, but I'm not unrealistic. I expect holiday movies to be trope-laden and sappy. Unless you're watching Santa Slasher 666 or, as Beavis would say, a "Christmas Classic" starring such fine quality thespians as Tiny Johnson and Bob Scratchit, you can expect either barf-inducing heartwarming romantic drama or family-friendly drama probably involving cute but weird elves somewhere in the mix. Knowing these things, I steeled myself for whatever extra helping of syrupy sweetness might be lurking in the Christmas Chronicles to raise my blood sugar levels.
First, the positives. The kids are adorable and the young actors performing the parts of Katie and Teddy did a marvelous job. Kurt Russell really hits the mark as a slightly grouchy, no-nonsense Santa. However, I was dismayed by the amount of size shaming and diet culture promotion.
Had it happened only once, I would have rolled my eyes and moved on. However, it happened multiple times, including a scene where the sleigh hits a billboard advertising Coke products with the image of a portly Santa enjoying a Coke. Santa shouts: "take that, Fat Man!"
Shaking my damn head. Not only was the size shaming not necessary, but the levels of at the very least subconscious vehemence and hatred towards larger people was absolutely uncalled for. Also, do the writers really thinks that Santa is so vain that all he cares about is being perceived as slim and sexy? I honestly find such people quite a bore and I would hope that if Santa were real, he wouldn't be a self-centered dullard.
As a curmudgeonly adult, I found the size bashing dismal and enraging. I can only imagine how it would seem to a big kid watching that movie. The inherent message they will take away is not "family needs to stick together," but "fat is the very worst thing you can possibly be. Even Santa hates fat people."
Hollywood really needs to stop with the lame-ass fat jokes whenever they find themselves at a loss for comic relief. If you can't include larger people in your story in a positive way, at the very least don't include them just to make them the butt of mean-spirited "humor".
Every kid deserves to feel like he or she is okay just as he or she is all year 'round, but I feel that a positive, family-friendly holiday movie needs to take a bit of extra care to make sure they aren't alienating and shaming certain already stigmatized populations.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~





Weekend Writing Warriors 9 December 2018 (ER, SF)


“Jefe!”
Krystal’s telepathic voice made Max take notice. He stopped trying to cut the thread and listened.
“You’ll have to put us in the bath, Jefe. This is how you wash off the strands. Then you going to have to give us energy.”
“Whatever you need, Baby, you’ve got it,” Max agreed. He lifted the tiny Krystal in his muscular arms and carried her to the oversized bathtub in Wella’s massage suite. He did the same for Jewel. He lay the two cocooned aliens side by side in the tub. He carefully checked the temperature of the water and began spraying the water from the showerhead over the otherworldly strands encasing the women.

Excerpt from The Dark Delights of Mistress Kali
Available from Naughty Netherworld Press on Kindle

Note:


Notes:

Since folks were curious about how Max was going to be able to free his bodyguards from the weird web, this snippet provides the solution to that mystery in the right number of sentences. I enjoy serendipity!
I sort of apologize for my previous rants about Tumblr's ludicrous policy changes. Freedom of speech is an important right, and I think that sometimes people in Western society are so used to having it that they don't realize what a catastrophe it would be if our right to free speech is taken away.
Granted, Tumblr is a private entity, not a government institution. However, they founded themselves on one principle and have turned their backs on the people who helped them become what they are. The talk about the site being rife with child pornographers is a gross exaggeration.
Like any site, such bad actors appear occasionally and should be dealt with accordingly. The porn problem Tumblr was actually having involved spammy porn bots. Nobody wanted those, and Tumblr staff had been asked to deal with the problem by many subscribers, including legitimate independent adult performers.
Tumblr reimagining itself as a pure and pristine site suitable for schoolchildren was not the correct answer to the problem. This action was taken because Yahoo and Verizon want Apple to put Tumblr back in their app store, not because they actually care about exploitation. The issue is more nuanced than their P.R. team has revealed in press releases.

~Cie~




A Very Personal Post: My Hysterectomy and Sub-Par Treatment of Women and Larger Patients

Ragen Chastain of Dances With Fat, a blog which people of every size should read

I normally try to keep my money-saving and life hacks blog confined to products, recipes, and apps which can help put money in your pocket and keep it there. However, sometimes I feel it is important to share personal and societal issues. This is one of those times.
I have blogged recently about having my eldritch horror of a uterus removed on December 17th. My uterus is full of polyps and benign fibroid tumors. There are other treatments for this (ablation, breaking up the tumors with ultrasound, hormones), but they tend to have to be repeated down the line. I no longer have a need for my uterus in this life. I feel that the most efficient course of action at this point is a once and done option: take it out and be done with it. Then there will be no future ablations, no future d and c's, and no more pap smears ever again in this lifetime. Weighing the pros and cons, I believe this to be the best option in my case.
Reflecting on the situation, my uterus probably should have come out ten to fifteen years ago. I always had brutal periods. I do not joke when I say I didn't bleed, I hemorrhaged. However, due to past trauma (sexual assault) and fear of being shamed for my body type (I am built similarly to Ragen, but am nowhere near as beautiful and graceful), I avoided having any sort of "well woman" type of exam for close to thirty years.
I feel like the current approach to focusing on a patient's weight first and, often to the exclusion of all else, is lazy medicine. Doctors fail to take into account that weight is only one part of the equation and correlation is not causation. There are multiple factors at play in a person's body type. DNA is the first and most powerful of these. 


Repeat after me: a rhino is not a unicorn. A rhino does not even know what a unicorn is. I doubt there is a rhino anywhere in the world that dreams of being a unicorn. Also, unicorns aren't real, much like the ridiculous appearance ideals that we learn to impose on ourselves from a very young age.
Dr. Oz (Oprah's pet snake oil salesman) once said that he never sees a fat person who doesn't have cardiac problems. What he neglected to mention is that he never sees a thin person who doesn't have cardiac problems either. He's a cardiologist. But there isn't a big market for weight gain products. There is a multi-billion dollar industry built on convincing people that their bodies are wrong and it's their fault that diets fail time and time again.
Doctors don't tend to see (or notice) healthy fat people, because when a person avoids the doctor's office like the plague for fear of being shamed and lectured about their weight, they tend not to seek medical treatment until the situation becomes catastrophic. Further, poor people regardless of size often can't afford medical treatment and thus avoid seeking medical treatment until the situation becomes catastrophic.
Teaching doctors to shame and scold patients for their physique (or anything else) leads patients to avoid seeing doctors. This is counterproductive. The Western medicine focus also tends to be on treating illness rather than maintaining health. This is counterproductive. The U.S. medical system is broken, and the definition of insanity is insisting on doing something that doesn't work and hoping it will work this time. It doesn't work and it isn't going to work this time. The dead horse needs to be replaced rather than flogged and shocked in hopes that it will wake up and gallop around the pasture like a healthy young colt.
In any case, after many years of going to a doctor who wasn't the worst but seemed to be burned out and going through the motions, I was doing a search for doctors with a Health at Every Size approach. I hope the future will present with many, many more such doctors, but currently, such a search can be extremely frustrating. I happened on a doctor in my general area who stated that she provides a safe space for patients of any race, sex, orientation, or size. I made an appointment right away.
Even though I got on well with this new doctor and trusted her, she had a difficult time examining the plumbing, so to speak. However, we got through it. The results of the dreaded pap smear were normal. But there was more to come.
I see my doctor quarterly because of my endocrine problems. During my April visit, I told her that I'd had my "yearly period." I said it was frustrating to me because I thought I was completely done with the blasted thing, but every year for the past couple years I had a really dreadful, heavy, but fortunately painless period. 
My doctor said that this wasn't normal and referred me to a gynecologist. I was extremely worried, but this incredibly kind and wonderful woman never once shamed me about my body. She focused on the issue at hand and was compassionate about my fears. After performing a biopsy and examination of the inside of the troublesome organ, I was informed that it was housing numerous fibroids and polyps and was sent for a consultation with a surgeon who specializes in gynecologic surgery.
My case is a walk in the park for this fellow. He has a lot of patients dealing with various cancers and severe pathologies. I present with a straightforward, uncomplicated condition, and the surgery should take less than an hour. I'm still terrified and want to run screaming. I hate going under anesthesia. 
The doctors involved in this chain of events have all done things right. They have treated me with respect and not shamed or scolded me for having a body which does not fit society's definition of "ideal" by any stretch of the imagination. This means that I listen to them rather than saying: "well, fuck this shit, I guess I'm going to just have to live with my problems because I don't want to deal with these assholes."
I worked in the medical field for most of my working life. There are patients who are frustrating to deal with. They are noncompliant and expect miracles. There are patients who demand antibiotics for the treatment of viruses. There are patients who seem to believe that doctors are hiding secret cures in their doctor arsenal. There are patients who can't stop smoking even though it's killing them. All of these people need to be treated with kindness and respect, even if the medical staff feels the need to headdesk repeatedly following a visit with said patient.
I've known more than one person who was so addicted to smoking that even though it had serious negative health consequences, they were unable to stop. One was my maternal grandmother, who died in 1992 at the age of 75 from complications of alcoholism. She had emphysema and couldn't make herself stop smoking. She successfully stopped drinking once, but then my cousin (a very broken person) brought over a six-pack one night, and she was right back at it. 
My grandmother had a hard life. It would be frustrating to treat a patient who is committing slow suicide, but it would never be appropriate to belittle or berate such a person. My grandmother only had an eighth-grade education, but she was by no means a stupid person. She had a lot of "horse sense." She was also deeply conflicted and had a very low self-esteem and untreated mental health issues.
I don't know the other person's backstory. She was a customer who came into a restaurant where I worked as a bartender and waitress. She would get coffee and stay for a long time in the afternoon, chain-smoking, reading, and drinking her coffee. She was a social worker who was getting ready to retire. She had a daughter who had borderline personality disorder.
This woman eventually had to have part of one lung removed. She tried to quit smoking, but people would see her around town hiding behind buildings for a puff, even though she had to carry an oxygen tank at that point. She died within a year of the surgery.
Scolding this woman would not have made it easier for her to quit smoking. She wasn't stupid. She knew that smoking was causing her health problems. Addiction is a complicated and misunderstood issue.
Some people equate having a large body type with addiction. This is erroneous. Some people with larger body types have binge eating disorder, as do some people with slender and medium body types. Binge eating disorder is not an "addiction to food," it is a pathological relationship with food. Even if it was "an addiction to food," scolding and shaming a person suffering from said disorder will do nothing but make that person withdraw and stop listening. Nothing good ever comes from scolding and shaming a patient.
What I am getting around to is that I have a health issue which should have been dealt with years ago, but I avoided exams that might have revealed the problem sooner because I was embarrassed and afraid of being shamed for my body. This should never be the case. All patients have the right to compassionate, respectful treatment. 
Pathologizing certain body types doesn't work. Health at Every Size does.
This is why I am committed to never deliberately advertising or promoting weight loss products on the Deliver Me blog. I struggled for 33 years with disordered eating and low self-esteem because of society's attitudes towards people with larger bodies. I went on diet after diet and "failed" every time. Any weight lost always came back with friends. I literally had to stop dieting so I wouldn't gain more weight. 
It wasn't until I discovered size acceptance and Health at Every Size that I realized I hadn't failed, the diets failed. The diet industry thrives on two factors:
Diets don't work
Dieters believe that they, not the diet, are at fault for the diet not working.
I will never knowingly sell snake oil or false promises. 
I will only promote products and services which I believe can be helpful in some capacity. Diet and weight loss products never are.

~Cie~




Cie's Eldritch Horror Removal




Since my uterus currently resembles an eldritch horror, it is being removed on December 17. Please keep me in your thoughts as you shut down your Tumblr accounts on that day in protest of The Fuckening.
I wonder if this post will be flagged by Tumblr’s bumbling purity-bot. That is, after all, a female-presenting uterus, and that eldritch horror might have female-presenting nipples somewhere on its body.

~Cie~

Insecure Writers Support Group + The Cheese Grates It: Banned on Tumblr









Note: This post contains profanity. If that is a problem for you, please don't continue reading.

You may wonder what this post has to do with the Insecure Writer's Support Group. I argue that freedom of speech is something all writers should be concerned about, and that is why I think this post is appropriate.
Tumblr shadow-banned my slightly naughty Supernatural fan blog.
Not for filthy, filthy Wincest pictures, like you might think. You actually have to go to about the 13th page to find an even remotely NSFW image. 
Nope. I can’t publish or reblog anything to this blog because I was being snarky about Tumblr becoming a kid-friendly playground instead of a platform for adults.
I’m moving wincestshippingtrash to nibblebit, a platform that is similar to Tumblr in the way it functions, and which is a platform geared to adult bloggers. Which is what Tumblr used to pride itself on, but now that they've sold their souls to Yahoo and Verizon, they're trying to present themselves as family friendly. Heck, a lot of the stuff that Tumblr was proud to allow was too rich for my blood, and I'm the founder, editor, and co-writer of the very torrid tales at Naughty Netherworld Press. If I'm nope-ing out because it's too raunchy, you know that shit's raunchy.
Here’s what’s funny. I have blogs on Blogger which I’ve deemed NSFW, even though most of them only contain harsh language. I flag these blogs as “adult” and when people type in the URL, they come to a notice which says “material on this blog has been flagged as only appropriate for adults. Do you wish to continue?” 
Tumblr has something called "safe mode," which prevents adult-flagged blogs from appearing in searches. Wincestshippingtrash was flagged as “adult” by me. It shouldn’t appear in Safe Mode, like, ever.
But it wasn’t even adult content that got the blog banned. It was the fact that I was being cheeky to Tumblr Staff, and they couldn’t deal.
I may be a mess health-wise at this point in my life, but I would fight to the death to preserve freedom of speech. I think that what Tumblr is doing is some East Block level shit. I guess we’ll see how long my primary Tumblr blog remains active what with me speaking out against the Evil Empire this way.
Also, what is this “female presenting nipple” bullshit, Tumblr? To me, that’s sexist AF.
Tumblr looks the other way when it comes to cyberbullying, including telling people to kill themselves or death threats. It's okay to call someone a "fat, ugly cunt," apparently. It's okay to promote violence by encouraging people to "punch a TERF." But Heavens forbid someone shows a bit of butt crack or a "female presenting nipple."


Folks have been circulating this around Tumblr to see how long it takes for it to get flagged. This is how ridiculous things have become.
Tumblr will either do what Blogger did a few years back and backpedal on their decision to ban adult content when they saw that their longtime users were leaving in droves, or they will become a wasteland like Myspace.
Nobody (well, nobody who shouldn't be in jail) wants child porn. The way to deal with that problem is not to ban all adult content. It is to remove the blog presenting it from public view, and do not delete the content because the FBI and Interpol will need access to it, but report the content to the FBI and Interpol. 
Again, freedom of speech is an issue which every writer needs to be concerned about. There are a lot of things which I find offensive, and there are a lot of things that I'm just plain not interested in. However, I believe it is appropriate that even things I deem offensive (such as Stormfront) are allowed a platform. If they go underground, they become even more dangerous. If they are allowed to spout their rhetoric, it is easier to refute them, and also easier for agencies such as the FBI to keep an eye on them.


Tumblr really screwed the pooch with their blanket adult content ban. This pooch. It is not a happy camper and is coming back to bite them on the ass.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~


The Tumblr Wars Continue



So, apparently Angus Young has “female presenting nipples” these days. Or maybe having letters on your boxer shorts is just too lewd for Tumblr.
If wincestshippingtrash.tumblr.com gets taken down, I’ll be at therealcie.tumblr.com until I piss them off there too.
At this point, I’m just messing with the bastards. I’m in the process of trying to back wincestshippingtrash up on nibblebit.com It’s a similar platform to Tumblr, only without all the newly injected and almost universally disdained puritanism.
Flag this, you fucking cunts.




Fuuuuuck You Tumblr!





For those who don't know, Tumblr is doing some really stupid shit. So, I made this post.
I just wanted to see how long it would take for Angus Young’s male-presenting nipples and boxer-clad ass, Bon Scott’s male-presenting nipples and nearly dropped trousers, and Malcolm Young’s male-presenting nipples and exposed balls to get this post flagged.
I’m rather sure they would approve of the intent of this post.

The post didn't even post. Maybe it was because of my tags, one of which was "come at me, bitch."
Maybe it was because of all the MAN BOOBS!
Tumblr couldn't handle all the male-presenting nipples, and it went tits up.

The only reason I'm even remaining on that hellsite at this point rather than just straight up migrating all my blogs is because I'm curious whether they will do what Blogger did and backpedal within a couple of weeks because they're losing too many users, or whether they will go the way of Myspace and become a cyber-wasteland. Either I'll be laughing at their stupidity, or I'll be watching them burn.

RIP Bon and Mal.



The Dark Delights of Mistress Kali Free for Five Days!


Dearest fiends, we here at Naughty Netherworld press couldn't be more excited! Our first full-length, uncut, hot and heavy novel, The Dark Delights of Mistress Kali, is live and will be available FREE for you to experience in all its glory between December 7 and December 11, 2018.
Free is always a good price, but it's especially nice when you have an extra long, hardcore novel full of the good stuff to enjoy. Naughty Netherworld Press always guarantees at least a 75:25 ratio of "good parts" to plot. 
Feel free to share this torrid tale with your friends and family, but only if they are over 18, and only if they like their works of fiction rated XXX-plicit.
For your consideration, the keywords for this novel are erotica, erotica/lgbt, erotica/bdsm, erotica/interracial, erotica/erotica characters: bbw, and erotica/erotica characters: aliens.
If frequent use of F-bombs is a problem for you, we would definitely recommend avoiding this book. However, if BDSM play and orgies with extraterrestrials aren't an issue but profanity is, we wonder if your priorities mightn't be a bit out of order!
Just messing with ya. In all seriousness, if this sort of thing is your bag, Baby, please hurry and take advantage of our special offer created for you because we love our readers!

~With love from Naughty Netherworld Press~

Snippet and Info: Wella Goes Missing (ER, SF)


Max bounded into Wella’s apartment and went straight for the bedroom. He was horrified to find the couple’s bodyguards, Krystal and Jewel, lying on the bed, unconscious and wrapped in fine strands of unearthly thread. Wella was nowhere to be found.
Max tentatively touched the threads, which cocooned his bodyguards like the silk of a spider. He was relieved to see that Krystal and Jewel were breathing. He found Wella’s sewing kit and procured the scissors. He tried to cut away the strands encasing the women to no avail.
“Fuck! How do I get them out of here?” Max wondered.

Excerpt from Carnal Invasion VI: The Dark Delights of Mistress Kali 

Notes:
Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants share an eight to ten sentence snippet of their writing, either published or unpublished.
And now for bragging and exciting news from your Naughty Netherworld team.


Team Naughty Netherworld is proud to announce our forthcoming full-length novel, lovingly if stressfully crafted during November for the infamous NaNoWriMo, and soon to be available only from Kindle.
There are plenty of exciting surprises, enticing plot twists, and, of course, lots of the sizzling hot encounters you have come to expect in a Naughty Netherworld story. 
Please explore our previous posts on the Naughty Netherworld Press blog to discover past installments in the Carnal Invasion series.
Take note that the erotica featured in the Carnal Invasion series is extremely explicit. It is generally GLBT and often involves group activity and BDSM. We describe these lusty verbal forays as literary hentai. They are a bit over the top, and while a good time is had by all characters involved, these torrid tales are not appropriate for everyone.

Fetch: A Gate to Hlanith

Copyright Patrick Jennings

A Gate to Hlanith
by
Henry Zambrano

Note:
This piece is written in the voice of our supporting character and friend to the Clifford brothers, Henry Zambrano
This piece is rife with profanity, so if you are sensitive about swearing, don't read it.
Earth's Dreamlands, Dylath Leen, the Cerenarian Sea, Hlanith and Mormo are the creations of H.P. Lovecraft

As we were about to exit the storeroom of the Dark Room underground nightclub in Dylath Leen, a gate opened in the floor and sucked us in. We fell for what seemed like 666 years but in reality was more like six seconds. We tumbled out on the shores of the Cerenarian Sea near Hlanith. A pair of small handmade boats were moored by a dock.
"Well, Henry Tharapithia was right," I said. "Gates do have a way of turning up in the strangest places. One would think it was some kind of conspiracy."
"Ain't much of a conspiracy," Gerry Clifford said with a shrug. "There's a certain faction of the demon aristocracy that still wants to see me and Paul tortured in one of the hells for all eternity. Since General Wylie and General Mondegreen's hearts went and grew six sizes too big when they became best bosom chums and all, them blighters hired that Tatiana Sawyer hag who's mates with Yadira Root to off me. She don't seem like the brightest bulb. One might have thought that when she realized I was about as nutritious as cotton candy, she'd have dropped me like I was hot, but she kept drinking me ectoplasm till all that was left was a soggy outer skin."
"Maybe she likes cotton candy," Paul speculated.
"Maybe she likes you, Gerry," Pepper suggested.
"Blech! Wash yer mouth out with soap, Woman! I'm hardly keen on the idea of some essence-drainin' harpy being keen fer me, 'specially after that vicious hickey she left on me neck when she tossed me spirit body in the corner like a feckin' limp dishrag and all."
"No offense, Pepper, but Gerry is a bit too adorable and waifish to appeal to the appetites of Tatiana Sawyer," General Deborah Wylie said. "She tends to like her man candy a bit more in the needful scientific nerd category. She'd have been all over that slimy scientist Octavian O'Hara if he weren't gay as a goose."
"Papa Legba isn't exactly a scientific nerd," I countered. "But she's offered herself up to him more than once."
"Papa Legba is a powerful Loa. Tatiana likes sex, but she likes power even more," General Wylie said.
"And she's a vengeful bitch, ain't she?" Gerry asked.
"Yes, that she is."
"Right. So, I just figured out why she turned me into a vampire and also why she accidentally killed Laddy Babylas and tried to get the blame put on you."
"To answer your question, General Wylie, his full first name is Ladislaus," Paul interjected. "Saw the puzzled look in yer eye and thought I'd clear that up."
"Anyways, fer all her belief that she's so cunning and smart, Tatiana is a bit of a bumbler," Gerry continued. "She's arrogant as fuck, which trips her up. She's impulsive, which trips her up all the more. She also can't feckin' stand to hear the word 'no.' Bit like Mormo in that regard."
"So, Laddy Babylas' death was an accident?" I asked.
"Right. I was the actual target," Gerry said. "I've also figured out me obsession with writing about vampires. I remembered something that Odinn said on an unfortunate occasion where I was hoping to surprise Pepper with a sexy moment involving me bits and a bottle of party streamers but instead ended up flashing Paul and Odinn. See, whilst Paulie was busy being all melodramatic about it, Odinn asked me if I was gonna involve that bit in me penny dreadful, as he calls Pepper's and my Bloody Velvet story. Well, as I was channeling me former self who was cursed by a spiteful sea witch callin' herself Gale Storm to be a disaster around boats, I'd no idea what he was talking about since Cap'n Seafaring Gerry were no wordsmith. But me affinity fer vampires does come from that lifetime after all. And by the way, Henry, I think Gale Storm sounds like a bad porn star name too. Gale was either one of our old friend High Priestess Yadira's chums or she was Yadira. I'm sure of it."
"Mormo got us, didn't she?" Paul asked. He reached for his brother's hand so he could better attune with Gerry's memories.
"Mate, she got me. I got complacent and I was careless. Thing is, I always knew that lifetime wasn't just fun and games, you and me bein' seafarin' Robin Hoods havin' hijinks on the high seas. I remembered that after Gale the Sea Witch cursed me, I sank our ship. I had a moment of joy when I saw that I'd conked Yadira, who was at the bottom of the briny in the guise of an octopus on the head with the falling anchor, but I knew that wasn't the way I died. Mormo, she..."
Gerry wiped bloody tears from his eyes.
"Her devotees got to Pepper and Sophia--our Barnacle Bess and Seafaring Sue. We had to off them to stop them from becoming soulless, sanguinary slayers, and it kinda took all the joy out of that otherwise pretty bloody jolly lifetime."
Paul sniffled and gave a soft chuckle.
"Am I feckin' horrible because I think that 'soulless, sanguinary slayers' sounds like a bloody good line to have in a song?" he asked.
"Fuck no! Yer right on target, Mate, and we'll write it as soon as we're back at me place in the Katharian Hills celebratin' with Pepper's frost giant sons. Yer pretty much not ever horrible, Paulie. Sometimes yer a bit of a prat, and sometimes you drive me up a wall 'cause you've this baffling tendency to be so smart but so obtuse all at the same time, but you have a huge feckin' heart, and even though you tend to play the class clown, I know yer way sensitive and the shite that goes on in a rather heartless cosmos cuts you to the quick. Anyways, back in that other lifetime, we was hell-bent fer leather, so to speak. I'd me sights set on Mormo, and with the spell cast by our mate Laddy, who was a feckin' badass sorcerer in that lifetime, her devotees was catchin' their z's, leavin' her bloodsuckin' arse vulnerable to attack. You remember that time we was in the courtyard in Nyarlathotep's dead world and she came out of that fountain?"
"How could I forget?" Paul asked. "It was yet another one of the 666 bazillion times that hanging out with you caused me to come near to soiling me drawers. At least that time I was on the astral, so it wouldn't have been a smelly mess, just a load of ectoplasm and all."
"Would you...yer ridiculous, you know! Here I am tryin' to impart a tragic tale, and yer off on a tangent about having a huge ectoplasmic shite. Anyways, just like on that occasion, Mormo's undead marble carcass leaped from the fountain and vamped me."
"Oi, did she leap?" Paul inquired. "'Cause on that occasion when we was in Nyarlathotep's courtyard, she didn't leap so much as creep, and she was right slow about it too."
"Paulie, I swear..." Gerry sighed. "To be honest with you, Mate, I don't know if she leapt or crept from the fountain. I was on the lookout for ghouls. I wasn't thinking about the fountain. So, however she got out of the fountain, once she was out she was ready to spring, and spring she did, and sank her fangs into my neck, and that was all she wrote fer that lifetime, but it explains why I've a thing fer writing about vampires in this lifetime."
"You've also got a thing fer playing vampires with Pepper. I always know when the two of you have been working on your story, 'cause she has hickeys all over her neck."
"Yeah, well, it makes me feel young again to write a fanciful story with me hot--I mean, talented co-author and to act out the good parts."
"I'm just windin' you up, Ger, I'm sorry. It's nice that yer enjoying yer unlife."
"Yeah, well it breaks me heart every time I know yer cryin' fer missin' me. I love you, Mate, and I always have. Yer the other half of me soul. So, when I got turned into a vampire, I'd a terrible decision to make while me mind was still mine. I knew I needed to off meself, and I knew you'd have a target on you fer the rest of your life. When we went out on the water that day, my intention was to convince you to go through a gate to another world, but..."
Gerry couldn't say the words. Paul embraced his brother, who broke down and wept.
"I killed meself too," Paul revealed. "But it ain't as straightforward as how it sounds. We...there was a ceremony to it. Gerry was startin' to change before me eyes, and..."
"Let's back up just a tick," Gerry interrupted, regaining his composure. "Paulie and I had nothin' left to live for in that life. We'd had to kill the women we loved so's they wouldn't become Mormo's eternal devotees, all devoid of any emotion except cruelty and bloodlust. Our bonny ship was at the bottom of the briny. Our friends and family were all dead or changed, and Mormo was pissed as fuck at us fer setting her chambers afire. So as dawn approached, we commandeered a couple of little handmade rowboats and headed east."
Gerry looked to the east and swallowed hard before continuing his story.
"Paulie's right, I started to change," he said. "Me own brother was lookin' more like a meal than a mate with every passing moment. Luckily, the sun came up when it did, and me morphed body caught fire. But as I returned to me senses fer a last moment before departing the world, I watched as he transformed into his true self, and it was bloody exquisite! Beneath the class clown alter-ego that everyone thinks is this blighter's real identity, he's a glorious infernal being. Granted, he physically set the boat afire with himself right in the middle, but his true self rose from the ashes like a feckin' Phoenix, all red and gold infernal flame."
"Yeah, I remember now, seein' your true self, all red and blue energy, an avenging angel," Paul recalled. "There was a moment of joy when we rose up away from all the sadness at the end of our lives, but it wasn't long before we was plopped down in another life. No rest fer the wicked and all."
"So Tatiana thought she'd get brownie points from Mormo and Yadira for offing you," I speculated.
"Exactly," Gerry confirmed. "But, as I said, Tatiana is a feckin' bumbler."
"Yah, while I have enjoyed listening to you regale us with tales of your yesterday, you need to bring your arse through this gate," Ketil Nagel proclaimed as he stepped out from behind the dock. "Come along, there isn't a minute to spare! ."

From the diary of Henry Zambrano

Prompt Used:

Closing Comments on This Blog

At this point, this blog is only a place for sharing links, and the only comments I've been getting are comments like the following fro...