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doodlemancytime to sully my mostly pristine dreamwidth with a vent post. content warning for, uh, mentions of a harrowing medical experience? also content warning for oh no my brain is bad.
this year so far:
at the beginning of the year, i realized i needed to be back on brand-name Vyvanse because the awful generics just weren't cutting it for me. this started a knock-down drag-out battle with my medicaid coverage provider that lasted months. i had already been under-or-unmedicated most of the time since September of 2023.
in February some idiot decided 20 years of experience in her industry and an incredible track record of successful sales was not enough to keep mom around at work and she lost her job. a company which will not be named used her for a few months to set up their new location and then threw her away like trash.
From March until May I was stuck in my own personal hell waiting to get into physical therapy (1 month wait for specialist appointment, another 1 month wait to get into PT) because carpal tunnel syndrome had made me completely dysfunctional.
From May until July i was in physical therapy, which was good and helpful but also exhausting and didn't get me quite where i hoped to be by now, and i had to deal with a medical transport service that made me extremely anxious and emotionally exhausted. i'm still kinda in limbo re: recovery and next steps with my wrist. it's likely i'll need carpal tunnel release surgery but i don't know haha
i also dug deeper into my medical history and found out that my very clear repetitive stress injuries had been recorded, 10 years ago, as "psychosomatic" by a nurse practitioner who, among other indiscretions, assaulted me on our final visit. this led to a week-long rage spiral i'm still getting occasional aftershocks from. i've tried, for years, to get help, and my ability to get help with my chronic pain was probably hindered significantly by some nasty bitch writing down "she's making it all up" in my medical records.
this whole time, since February, i haven't gotten the amount of Alone Time i desperately need to be myself. i am a borderline-autistic little gremlin (talked to my therapist about this; i am literally on the very edge of meeting the requirements for a diagnosis LMAO) who is never truly relaxed unless i'm left alone. i am not my complete self unless i get like 20 hours to be a weird little freak by myself on a weekly basis. my ideal life would just be me and as many cats as i could handle taking care of in a cottage that is somehow both in the woods and within stumbling distance of public transit and a Winco.
and now we're a less than a week out from the end of cohost. it's a lot of gut punches for a single year. bad things happening to me is one thing. good things leaving the world is just plain rude.
i am tired. i am tired. i am tired. kept a clean home at the apartment and now i am perpetually surrounded by disorder. nothing stays clean outside the sanctuary of my bedroom, and that's getting messy too, because i'm so exhausted. i've been burning the candle at both ends because my mom gets up at like 5-6 AM and so late night is some of the only time i get where i can focus on creative stuff without worrying that i will suddenly have to drop everything at any given moment (this is a real problem trying to work with ADHD lol). it has been months since i got to cook myself breakfast in pleasant silence and not have to groggily respond to conversation while i'm still shaking off my nightly insomnia meds. i can't make a sandwich without also having to clean the counter off first and, amidst that, also getting dragged into some attempt at conversation, often about the kind of doomscrolling twitter news feed shit i'm actively trying to avoid, and it's driving me insane. i can't listen to my podcasts uninterrupted while i do chores anymore, so the chores are harder and more mentally draining. and i'm getting weirder and weirder about it, because at this point, i'm like a battery that's being drained ever so slightly more than it's charging. i've tried to explain: this is the way i am wired. it's not about anyone else, and i can't change my nature. these are my tiger stripes. but when you live with someone whose consistent reaction to "i actually kind of just need to chill and not talk to anyone right now" is "oh. because you hate me probably :(" this becomes an uphill battle.
it sucks. i don't want to feel resentful about this, i want to feel sympathetic and respond in some kind of productive way but i'm so tired. i'm out of energy. it's capitalism's fault, ultimately. but knowing what the cause of the problem is doesn't make it any less of a problem, or i wouldn't have ADHD-depresso-anxiety-PTSD.
on the other hand: i sure have been getting some great creative work done, despite everything. it's just it's also not the creative work i'm supposed to be doing!!!
i've accomplished a lot this year. i made Potion Stand Story and got it into the Queer Games Bundle and as far as i'm concerned, officially got my career as a visual novelist off the ground, in the process overcoming my long-standing terror about showing my writing. as a result of that, i finally got started on Iron Company. i got my spring and summer shop updates off the ground, even though they weren't as big as i wanted them to be. i got into physical therapy like i'd been saying i needed to. i got diagnosed with carpal tunnel syndrome, years too late, but i learned to manage it better. i reported that shitty nurse practitioner and she's being investigated. i basically killed my doomscrolling habit. i've had a lot of fun connecting with other artists in new spaces this year, like bluesky and discord servers. i've made new friends and grown closer with acquaintances i hoped would eventually be friends. i got diagnosed with PTSD, after 10 years since The Incident, which sounds bad but frankly was very validating, to have a widely recognized acronym to explain What's Wrong With Me when a trigger gets me. i won my fight for my vyvanse. i learned a lot about coding in ren'py. i grew beans.
i just. i feel like a neglected plant, under-watered, in exactly the wrong amount of sunlight, just barely fuckin making it, and still producing the occasional bloom.
it's a little early in the year still for wishful thinking about the new year, but i hope 2025 is kinder to me, in terms of Events and Finances. i would love to be the badass that shows up and drops $200 on someone else's gofundme because I Want To Help and I Can. i want to give back instead of having to ask for so much help. i want to spend more time with people i care about and be spontaneous about it instead of carefully clinging to my few hours of weekly solitude like a life raft and always calculating whether time i spend with others will cut into that. i want to get back to streaming. i want to be my entire self again instead of retreating into hyperfixation to cope. the writing i'm getting done is good, but it's no way to live.
i would love to actually just flourish, for once, instead of blossoming in spite of everything.
this year so far:
at the beginning of the year, i realized i needed to be back on brand-name Vyvanse because the awful generics just weren't cutting it for me. this started a knock-down drag-out battle with my medicaid coverage provider that lasted months. i had already been under-or-unmedicated most of the time since September of 2023.
in February some idiot decided 20 years of experience in her industry and an incredible track record of successful sales was not enough to keep mom around at work and she lost her job. a company which will not be named used her for a few months to set up their new location and then threw her away like trash.
From March until May I was stuck in my own personal hell waiting to get into physical therapy (1 month wait for specialist appointment, another 1 month wait to get into PT) because carpal tunnel syndrome had made me completely dysfunctional.
From May until July i was in physical therapy, which was good and helpful but also exhausting and didn't get me quite where i hoped to be by now, and i had to deal with a medical transport service that made me extremely anxious and emotionally exhausted. i'm still kinda in limbo re: recovery and next steps with my wrist. it's likely i'll need carpal tunnel release surgery but i don't know haha
i also dug deeper into my medical history and found out that my very clear repetitive stress injuries had been recorded, 10 years ago, as "psychosomatic" by a nurse practitioner who, among other indiscretions, assaulted me on our final visit. this led to a week-long rage spiral i'm still getting occasional aftershocks from. i've tried, for years, to get help, and my ability to get help with my chronic pain was probably hindered significantly by some nasty bitch writing down "she's making it all up" in my medical records.
this whole time, since February, i haven't gotten the amount of Alone Time i desperately need to be myself. i am a borderline-autistic little gremlin (talked to my therapist about this; i am literally on the very edge of meeting the requirements for a diagnosis LMAO) who is never truly relaxed unless i'm left alone. i am not my complete self unless i get like 20 hours to be a weird little freak by myself on a weekly basis. my ideal life would just be me and as many cats as i could handle taking care of in a cottage that is somehow both in the woods and within stumbling distance of public transit and a Winco.
and now we're a less than a week out from the end of cohost. it's a lot of gut punches for a single year. bad things happening to me is one thing. good things leaving the world is just plain rude.
i am tired. i am tired. i am tired. kept a clean home at the apartment and now i am perpetually surrounded by disorder. nothing stays clean outside the sanctuary of my bedroom, and that's getting messy too, because i'm so exhausted. i've been burning the candle at both ends because my mom gets up at like 5-6 AM and so late night is some of the only time i get where i can focus on creative stuff without worrying that i will suddenly have to drop everything at any given moment (this is a real problem trying to work with ADHD lol). it has been months since i got to cook myself breakfast in pleasant silence and not have to groggily respond to conversation while i'm still shaking off my nightly insomnia meds. i can't make a sandwich without also having to clean the counter off first and, amidst that, also getting dragged into some attempt at conversation, often about the kind of doomscrolling twitter news feed shit i'm actively trying to avoid, and it's driving me insane. i can't listen to my podcasts uninterrupted while i do chores anymore, so the chores are harder and more mentally draining. and i'm getting weirder and weirder about it, because at this point, i'm like a battery that's being drained ever so slightly more than it's charging. i've tried to explain: this is the way i am wired. it's not about anyone else, and i can't change my nature. these are my tiger stripes. but when you live with someone whose consistent reaction to "i actually kind of just need to chill and not talk to anyone right now" is "oh. because you hate me probably :(" this becomes an uphill battle.
it sucks. i don't want to feel resentful about this, i want to feel sympathetic and respond in some kind of productive way but i'm so tired. i'm out of energy. it's capitalism's fault, ultimately. but knowing what the cause of the problem is doesn't make it any less of a problem, or i wouldn't have ADHD-depresso-anxiety-PTSD.
on the other hand: i sure have been getting some great creative work done, despite everything. it's just it's also not the creative work i'm supposed to be doing!!!
i've accomplished a lot this year. i made Potion Stand Story and got it into the Queer Games Bundle and as far as i'm concerned, officially got my career as a visual novelist off the ground, in the process overcoming my long-standing terror about showing my writing. as a result of that, i finally got started on Iron Company. i got my spring and summer shop updates off the ground, even though they weren't as big as i wanted them to be. i got into physical therapy like i'd been saying i needed to. i got diagnosed with carpal tunnel syndrome, years too late, but i learned to manage it better. i reported that shitty nurse practitioner and she's being investigated. i basically killed my doomscrolling habit. i've had a lot of fun connecting with other artists in new spaces this year, like bluesky and discord servers. i've made new friends and grown closer with acquaintances i hoped would eventually be friends. i got diagnosed with PTSD, after 10 years since The Incident, which sounds bad but frankly was very validating, to have a widely recognized acronym to explain What's Wrong With Me when a trigger gets me. i won my fight for my vyvanse. i learned a lot about coding in ren'py. i grew beans.
i just. i feel like a neglected plant, under-watered, in exactly the wrong amount of sunlight, just barely fuckin making it, and still producing the occasional bloom.
it's a little early in the year still for wishful thinking about the new year, but i hope 2025 is kinder to me, in terms of Events and Finances. i would love to be the badass that shows up and drops $200 on someone else's gofundme because I Want To Help and I Can. i want to give back instead of having to ask for so much help. i want to spend more time with people i care about and be spontaneous about it instead of carefully clinging to my few hours of weekly solitude like a life raft and always calculating whether time i spend with others will cut into that. i want to get back to streaming. i want to be my entire self again instead of retreating into hyperfixation to cope. the writing i'm getting done is good, but it's no way to live.
i would love to actually just flourish, for once, instead of blossoming in spite of everything.
