So I don’t hold a candle to yours. Today is my quarterly doctor’s appointment. It is my most demeaning day as I must get a ride to the Dr from my folks and get paid for while appearing perfectly fine from any outside perspective. I could drive myself, but I don’t bother with a license and car. For a long time I just rode a bike, but that puts me on a road for too many miles at this point and it is stupid sketchy for me to be around cars. The only super tangible limitation I have is not being able to turn my head left. So I can’t see behind me on a road bike unless I sit upright and turn with my lower back. Even then, I can’t keep bars consistently straight because my principal damage is thoracic (between shoulder blades).
It just sucks. I know I would be wasting a ton on money with a car and insurance, which would push me to work when I can’t control the major ups and downs cycle. That stress would, as it did in the past, turn my 2-3 day lows with little to no sleep into weeks to months. I end up becoming a useless zombie and that leads to suicidal levels of difficulties. Taking anything for sleep stops me from my constant flopping about like a fish even in my sleep. That path was the only time I completely lost my mobility and got trapped in bed for several days.
So today is the day I get to face all that underlying baggage to leave the house when I am not on a bike. It shouldn’t bother me so much, but it is a humiliation on some level. It makes the old me feel judgemental of this useless loser shell of a human I have become. My mind tales that a step further into the anxiety of my aging parents and how I have no idea what I will do without them. I don’t know if I am more afraid of my inevitable zombie self or the potential homelessness I will face. I just want to crawl back under my little rock of a bedroom life and emerse myself in my projects where I can hide from the judgement of who I once was. Fortunately, I guess, I still do not feel hate for the person that disabled me. That is my litmus test for my absence narcissism.
I need a hero savior of a human, but I am not cruel enough to try and entice someone into my burden and watching me degrade and die young. To me, that is real love, even for a person I do not know… what a mess…
Don’t be. I’m sorry for your hardships too. Other people’s problems do nothing to change our own. The perspective of what others are coping with can at times help bolster us to continue. Like grieving together, in an abstracted way.
I don’t know your circumstances and support dynamic, but cohabitation with an ex implies a certain remarkable altruism, or potential. Whether there is truth of not in that inference is not really important to me, the idea was hopeful.
In many ways I morn my own death in an underlying layer of grief, however I still live and am therefore nor allowed to move on. My intent on sharing is to hopefully reveal a facet of what it means to grieve, and life in general. While my situation can be tough, I do not envy your own and I am reasonably sure that sentiment is mutual. It can be helpful in dark moments to have something on the mind, like ‘at least I’m not going through that,’ and in so doing offer the opportunity to appreciate what positive elements remain.
I never know if my abstractions translate for others well. That was my underlying intent. From my side, you were helpful in a coping mechanism as I intended. It was good for me to externalize the struggle and you have helped refocus my emotional wandering. Thanks. I’m sorry if that came across as a further negativity or burden in any way as that was not what I intended.
I can’t leave him because of money is the long and short of it. We are very apart and he’s a covert narcissist who is quite vicious so I’m just grey rocking, as they call it, until I can find a path out.
So I don’t hold a candle to yours. Today is my quarterly doctor’s appointment. It is my most demeaning day as I must get a ride to the Dr from my folks and get paid for while appearing perfectly fine from any outside perspective. I could drive myself, but I don’t bother with a license and car. For a long time I just rode a bike, but that puts me on a road for too many miles at this point and it is stupid sketchy for me to be around cars. The only super tangible limitation I have is not being able to turn my head left. So I can’t see behind me on a road bike unless I sit upright and turn with my lower back. Even then, I can’t keep bars consistently straight because my principal damage is thoracic (between shoulder blades).
It just sucks. I know I would be wasting a ton on money with a car and insurance, which would push me to work when I can’t control the major ups and downs cycle. That stress would, as it did in the past, turn my 2-3 day lows with little to no sleep into weeks to months. I end up becoming a useless zombie and that leads to suicidal levels of difficulties. Taking anything for sleep stops me from my constant flopping about like a fish even in my sleep. That path was the only time I completely lost my mobility and got trapped in bed for several days.
So today is the day I get to face all that underlying baggage to leave the house when I am not on a bike. It shouldn’t bother me so much, but it is a humiliation on some level. It makes the old me feel judgemental of this useless loser shell of a human I have become. My mind tales that a step further into the anxiety of my aging parents and how I have no idea what I will do without them. I don’t know if I am more afraid of my inevitable zombie self or the potential homelessness I will face. I just want to crawl back under my little rock of a bedroom life and emerse myself in my projects where I can hide from the judgement of who I once was. Fortunately, I guess, I still do not feel hate for the person that disabled me. That is my litmus test for my absence narcissism.
I need a hero savior of a human, but I am not cruel enough to try and entice someone into my burden and watching me degrade and die young. To me, that is real love, even for a person I do not know… what a mess…
I’m so sorry.
Don’t be. I’m sorry for your hardships too. Other people’s problems do nothing to change our own. The perspective of what others are coping with can at times help bolster us to continue. Like grieving together, in an abstracted way.
I don’t know your circumstances and support dynamic, but cohabitation with an ex implies a certain remarkable altruism, or potential. Whether there is truth of not in that inference is not really important to me, the idea was hopeful.
In many ways I morn my own death in an underlying layer of grief, however I still live and am therefore nor allowed to move on. My intent on sharing is to hopefully reveal a facet of what it means to grieve, and life in general. While my situation can be tough, I do not envy your own and I am reasonably sure that sentiment is mutual. It can be helpful in dark moments to have something on the mind, like ‘at least I’m not going through that,’ and in so doing offer the opportunity to appreciate what positive elements remain.
I never know if my abstractions translate for others well. That was my underlying intent. From my side, you were helpful in a coping mechanism as I intended. It was good for me to externalize the struggle and you have helped refocus my emotional wandering. Thanks. I’m sorry if that came across as a further negativity or burden in any way as that was not what I intended.
I can’t leave him because of money is the long and short of it. We are very apart and he’s a covert narcissist who is quite vicious so I’m just grey rocking, as they call it, until I can find a path out.
You translate just fine!