Another Babbling Return
Another year between posts. I would usually give a quick summary of the missing time, but I think I'll skip that this round. I'm moving back into a position where I can start planning consistent updates, but I also know that I have difficulty maintaining routines with my personal projects. The important thing is that I'm writing now. I'm trying to focus on that.
I'm afraid. I'm exhausted and in pain. I worry my medication regimen has become merely a stop-gap, but I don't know what "properly medicated" looks like for me. I think I'm finally recovering from my 2015 burnout, which is bittersweet. I contemplate putting my schedule in a tighter stranglehold, knowing that it hasn't worked in the past and any goals I was trying to attain just fell between my fingers like sand.
I'm afraid for so many reasons. Donald Trump's presidency has been...exhausting and infuriating. He's inconsistent, volatile, racist, and completely out of touch with...well...everything. One of the most constant public conversations is how allowing neo-Nazis and white supremacists public forum validates their views. I honestly don't know why this is in question or why people are arguing that they should "say their piece" or that they shouldn't face consequences for their views due to "freedom of speech." I hope every single one of them gets fired and ostracized from public spaces. I hope they called out on every shitty thing they say and are afraid to leave their homes. I'm done being a nice white woman. I'm over it. I don't want to be the "cool feminist," anymore. I'm queer, nonmonogamous, pagan, disabled. I'm going to use my privilege to elevate marginalized and minority voices, I'm going to use my intersectionality to develop ever greater empathy.
....I think that this is the first time I've called myself disabled. I mean, I have always described myself as mentally ill, but there was something liberating in using "disabled." I distanced myself from it when I was younger because I didn't want to explain myself, I think. I didn't want to say "I'm disabled. No, really, I have these diagnoses and I take these medications to function." But I didn't want the stigma, either? With mental illness I could just...hide it away.
I'm starting to have physical symptoms, though. Well, I guess I've had them for a while now. But I can't ignore them, anymore. It's not just sleeping for 16 hours every three months. It's laying down for an hour or two when I get home from my day job, were I'm seated most of the day, because I'm exhausted and in pain. It's recognizing the pattern of flare ups. It's not being able to complete a CostCo shopping trip without my hip freezing, shooting pain in my lower back, and my knee swelling. It's tingling and joint pain in my hand. It's limping after a 30 minute drive because my hip froze. It's having a bottle of ibuprofen in my car, in my room, in my bathroom, in my purse. It's the cycle of energy drinks keeping me going during the day and ruining my sleep at night. It's consistent pinched nerves and lower back pain. Some days, I can't get out of bed for pain or exhaustion. Those days are becoming increasingly common. They used to be once or twice a season. Then they became monthly. Now, I usually spend Saturday in bed. Often, there's at least one full evening during the week I lose to fatigue and pain. I was planning to start the diagnostic cycle. I overestimated my ability to afford medical insurance.
I've shifted the majority of my work to the computer, largely to help manage the pain. I have been working as a bookkeeper for a year and plan to test for a national certification by June. I have also been freelancing as a writer (both of articles and website content), tutor, and editor. My goal is to set up my LLC by the end of the year. I'm excited for the potential, terrified of failure, ready to get it off the ground. I've only been talking about it - rolling it around, honing it - for about 4 years now. Damn. I needed the growth, though. I needed the perspective. Now it's time to implement. Look at me fly!
I'm afraid. I'm exhausted and in pain. I worry my medication regimen has become merely a stop-gap, but I don't know what "properly medicated" looks like for me. I think I'm finally recovering from my 2015 burnout, which is bittersweet. I contemplate putting my schedule in a tighter stranglehold, knowing that it hasn't worked in the past and any goals I was trying to attain just fell between my fingers like sand.
I'm afraid for so many reasons. Donald Trump's presidency has been...exhausting and infuriating. He's inconsistent, volatile, racist, and completely out of touch with...well...everything. One of the most constant public conversations is how allowing neo-Nazis and white supremacists public forum validates their views. I honestly don't know why this is in question or why people are arguing that they should "say their piece" or that they shouldn't face consequences for their views due to "freedom of speech." I hope every single one of them gets fired and ostracized from public spaces. I hope they called out on every shitty thing they say and are afraid to leave their homes. I'm done being a nice white woman. I'm over it. I don't want to be the "cool feminist," anymore. I'm queer, nonmonogamous, pagan, disabled. I'm going to use my privilege to elevate marginalized and minority voices, I'm going to use my intersectionality to develop ever greater empathy.
....I think that this is the first time I've called myself disabled. I mean, I have always described myself as mentally ill, but there was something liberating in using "disabled." I distanced myself from it when I was younger because I didn't want to explain myself, I think. I didn't want to say "I'm disabled. No, really, I have these diagnoses and I take these medications to function." But I didn't want the stigma, either? With mental illness I could just...hide it away.
I'm starting to have physical symptoms, though. Well, I guess I've had them for a while now. But I can't ignore them, anymore. It's not just sleeping for 16 hours every three months. It's laying down for an hour or two when I get home from my day job, were I'm seated most of the day, because I'm exhausted and in pain. It's recognizing the pattern of flare ups. It's not being able to complete a CostCo shopping trip without my hip freezing, shooting pain in my lower back, and my knee swelling. It's tingling and joint pain in my hand. It's limping after a 30 minute drive because my hip froze. It's having a bottle of ibuprofen in my car, in my room, in my bathroom, in my purse. It's the cycle of energy drinks keeping me going during the day and ruining my sleep at night. It's consistent pinched nerves and lower back pain. Some days, I can't get out of bed for pain or exhaustion. Those days are becoming increasingly common. They used to be once or twice a season. Then they became monthly. Now, I usually spend Saturday in bed. Often, there's at least one full evening during the week I lose to fatigue and pain. I was planning to start the diagnostic cycle. I overestimated my ability to afford medical insurance.
I've shifted the majority of my work to the computer, largely to help manage the pain. I have been working as a bookkeeper for a year and plan to test for a national certification by June. I have also been freelancing as a writer (both of articles and website content), tutor, and editor. My goal is to set up my LLC by the end of the year. I'm excited for the potential, terrified of failure, ready to get it off the ground. I've only been talking about it - rolling it around, honing it - for about 4 years now. Damn. I needed the growth, though. I needed the perspective. Now it's time to implement. Look at me fly!
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