How is everyone? I’m high!

For those not religiously stalking my online presence (and why NOT?), you might not know I’m around twenty-four hours into a five-day stint in hospital. While here I’m being stuck, prodded, and infused full of drugs to help deal with my ever-reliable buddy ol’ pal ol’ mate, chronic pain.

This involves a few fun procedures but the one I want to talk about today is the Ketamine infusion. Because those are the medicinal waves I’m riding right now, my dudes.

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As I look around my Facebook feed, I’m noticing the plebiscite has begun its reign of terror – people left and right debating with great aplomb whether myself and others like me deserve the right to marry.

I’ve seen a good number of allies go to bat for queer rights, and I’m so, so grateful to you for it. But if there’s one piece of advice I can give you that may save you a stress headache and me a mental breakdown it’s this:

Do away with words like “belief” and “opinion”.

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This time last year I had to leave a job I loved because I was too sick to work. I’ve since had two surgeries, cultivated an essential but bank-draining team of medical specialists, and developed a truly spectacular tolerance to painkillers.

For me, Endometriosis has been a nuclear bomb dropped on my life.

Scientifically speaking: Endometriosis is a condition that occurs when the inner lining of the uterus (the endometrium) decides it’s a strong independent tissue that don’t need no uterus. Instead it grows…well, wherever it damn well pleases. Generally endometrium growths stick to your abdominal cavity — setting up shop on your uterus, ovaries, bowel, bladder etc etc — but there have been cases of growths being found in other areas of the body (like the nasal cavity, what the fuck?).

In severe cases, endometriosis growths can adhere your organs to your abdominal walls, or each other. Think Shelob’s cave from Lord of the Rings.

Oh but wait, there’s more.

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It’s the first week of pride month and Sense8 has been cancelled. If that’s not ironic then I owe Alanis Morissette a beer.

In the days following the announcement, there’s been a lot of sorrow, a lot of outrage, and a spate of well-rounded articles detailing the immense loss to representation that’s fuelled most of it. But still, I see a lot of people—straight ones mostly—wondering at the voracity of the queer community’s backlash at the news. And I guess I can understand their confusion. Representation is representation, right? While Sense8 certainly had a lot of it, it’s not the only show out there with openly queer characters.

But that’s just it. All representation isn’t created equal.

In an industry that queer-codes its villains, fetishises its lesbians, overwhelmingly depicts its gay men slowly dying of AIDs, and flat out forgets people of colour exist most of the time, finding representation that doesn’t make me want to put my head through a wall is like finding a needle in a pile of other needles. Finding representation that makes me cry literal tears of joy…well, lets just say I’m usually notoriously dry eyed.

Until Sense8. Beautiful, diverse, found-family, feel-good, sci-fi mecca Sense8.

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