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Let’s talk about Covid and “vaccine passports” from an immunocompromised perspective

Before we begin, this is a friendly note that this blog talks about Covid 19 and vaccinations, but (surprise) I am not a medical professional. I'm just an obsessive gal with skin in the game and a lot of time on my hands. 

The information below is not medical advice and should not be taken as medical advice. Please contact your family doctor or healthcare provider if you have any personal medical questions. 

I did many, many hours of research on this, using as reputable sources as I could find. This was started at the beginning of September (before anxiety set in and I had to pause for a while) so please keep that in mind when reading if the numbers have changed. Also, I have not added sources cos I'm not a journalist and that would have taken me foooorever. Sorry.

Lately, I’ve definitely noticed that my echo chamber social media feeds and general conversations are particularly pro-vaccination and a lot of my friends and family are going out and getting the Covid jabs. That’s their prerogative – I’m also one of those people.

But I also see a few sentiments that are anti-vaccination, or at least anti-Covid-vaccination. They seem concerned about “vaccine passports”, the safety or efficacy of them, the implications/effects of the vaccines and/or the “slippery slope” it could lead to.

Having dated a guy with a very opposite view on these vaccinations to myself, I’ve come to learn some of the very valid reasons people are worried, and also some of the reasons that I can’t find decent information to back up (or what I consider to be double standard takes or takes that don’t line up).

I’m not gonna lie and say I’m unbiased. I have literal skin in the game – not super keen on dying from this disease since I’m high risk and all that. Living with a primary immunodeficiency and a lung disease wasn’t fun before this pandemic… now it sucks even more.

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Family and intimate partner violence during lockdown

I’ve found myself really upset after seeing more information about the 4 women killed in one fortnight recently, during the current lockdown in NZ.

There have been 8 family violence homicides total since this lockdown began. It’s so scary and upsetting, and I can’t imagine what their family and friends are going through as well.

The thought of being locked down with my abusive ex makes me feel physically sick, and I can’t help but think about anyone out there who could be experiencing that sort of manipulation, fear, and potential violence and feeling like they have nowhere to go.

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Happy Pride Month 🌈

Is this me coming out?

What is coming out?

Do you have to come out publicly for it to count? Sit down with your parents and have “the chat”? When are you officially out of the closet? Does literally everyone you know have to know?

I don’t know if this is me coming out… that probably depends if you know my situation or not. In my opinion, if you assumed I was straight, that’s sort of on you for making that assumption 😉

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Are you really a Nice Guy?

I don’t know why I keep writing about topics that I know are confronting, but they keep being front of mind for me, so here we go.

I’ve been thinking a lot about “Nice Guys” lately.

Probably cos I’m surrounded by them.

Which makes sense cos I don’t tend to surround myself with misogynists or the types of people who make rape jokes or whatever toxic dudes do these days.

And honestly, I don’t think that type surround themselves with people like me… cos generally, outspoken feminist types who call them out don’t spark joy for them.

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Breakdowns and accepting limitations

Ok so I wrote this blog on 16 February 2021. About 3 and a half months ago. I didn’t post it because I actually intended on it ending with a positive spin about how I could accept limitations. But it ended negatively and I felt bad about just putting out fully negative shit that is very self-pitying – even if it’s understandably self-pitying.

Something about it is sort of a really interesting throwback to how deep in denial you can knowingly be and decide… yup I choose denial cos I can’t see anything else.

Welcome to my brain in the middle of a breakdown/PTSD relapse. It was not a fun time.


Accepting my limitations is my least favourite thing to do.

I don’t like to think that there is anything that I can’t do that an average person off the street could.

It just doesn’t sound right.

I feel like I’m a physically, mentally and emotionally capable human so why can’t I do the same shit as my friends. Especially the ones who eat worse, drink more and exercise less… Like wtf, how can they work enough hours to pay their rent and bills and have disposable income and a social life and if I try, I have mental breakdowns and get forced to drop everything to focus on recovery.

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Craft beer isn’t as woke as it thinks it is

Sometimes I feel like craft beer nerds hang out in a space that is its own little bubble – talking about upcoming beers, rating the latest trends, and sharing in-joke memes about beer styles that the average Joe has never heard of.

But today, that craft bubble burst today when David Gaughan, the owner of Eagle Brewing in Christchurch was outed for posting a racist comment on a 1 NEWS Facebook post.

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I’m poor cos I’m sick 🥲

This is something I rarely hear people talk about, and I didn’t think it’d affect me quite honestly. But here I am, poor cos I’m chronically ill… Cool cool cool.

It’s actually really hard to write about, because in 2021 capitalistic lyfe, we tend to measure our value by our productivity and earning potential and I hold a lot of shame around this. #InternalisedAbleism

We’re all out here aiming to have awesome, independent GirlBoss energy. Working 60 hours a week for a 40 hour salary because that’s what it takes to be seen and succeed in getting the ideal career progression.

But some of us just can’t… and even though I don’t necessarily want this hardcore career woman life like I definitely used to, I’d quite like to just support myself in the way that it feels like I should be able to.

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The truth about sexual assault

This is going to be my biggest content warning ever. It triggers me to read this back and I know what it says. I wrote it while having flashbacks so it’s probably more graphic than most things I write.

I also know that things normally sound worse than I realise because I forget some people don’t know my story, plus my perception of my experiences make them become… normal?? So I legit can’t tell if it’s a horror story or I’m just like kinda unlucky.

So, especially for survivors of sexual assault, I don’t necessarily recommend you read this. It isn’t for you, you already know the truth about sexual assault. I love you and I see you and you and I’m sending healing and happy vibes ❤️❤️❤️

For anyone else who decides to read… If you haven’t experienced sexual assault or rape, I’m gonna give you some insight to try help you understand the gravity of it.

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A love letter to myself and the women in my life

It’s Sexual Assault Awareness Month, and, ironically, I’m too busy dealing with current and past sexual assault issues to write about it properly. How’s that for life being classic.

So instead of that, I thought I’d write about something entirely different until I have the mental space to post about the topics I’m wanting to talk about.

Sometimes (often), I write blogs, then they become almost immediately irrelevant as soon as I post them.

I think when I admit to myself and the world something that I feel or believe is an issue I have, I can then move past it.

Acceptance and all that I guess? You can’t fix a problem until you admit you have one.

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My fake smile isn’t my identity anymore

CW: Mental health, su*cidal ideation, talk of drug addiction, abuse and illness

I had a moment tonight.

It started with a random Instagram tarot reading for Sagittarius folks (don’t judge me) that was alllll too accurate. It was so much so that it reminded me that my problems aren’t individual, they’re so broad that I feel the exact same way as a hundred other people in his comment section.

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