But I started re-watching Designated Survivor this evening as a little treat to myself and someone apparently wants to paint fan art of me on Instagram, so that’s cool.
It’s off to the shower with me now. G’night!
-Allēna
Tag: Chronic Pain
-
Challenges
Ah yes. An interesting prompt.
What is the biggest challenge you will face in the next six months?
Staying alive, in all honesty. We live in a hellscape and I’m under a lot of stress right now being a repository of knowledge and stress buffer/mediator for a lot of people. It’s so bad right now that I don’t know how I feel personally about a lot of the situations I’m the human DMZ in, and I am currently too exhausted to try. Alexithymia and chronic fatigue are bitches and a half.
I’m still trying to care for myself as best as possible in all of this, finding a balance is just…. Difficult. It’s one of the reasons my phone is eternally on Do Not Disturb. It gives me some semblance of artificially manufactured peace and quiet amidst all the chaos.
I think in another life, I would have made a great emergency medical technician.
-Allēna
-
An open letter to whatever is inflamed deep in our hips.
Stop. Don’t make me break out the Sorcery on you.
Sincerely,
-Lazarus, aka. The Management.
Fediverse Reactions
-
-
Sorry I don’t have more cat pictures or anything for y’all today.
The more I sit with the realization that what my system is dealing with is complex grief about the state of the world and life and things, the more it feels like I’m swimming in an ocean of just… Sadness. I’m safe, it’s just a lot to feel. Hence why I’m writing here. I don’t really know how else to begin deeply processing emotion beyond writing, and I’m feeling the grief so somatically that I don’t have the energy to talk to people individually about it. So I figure word vomiting here is a good place to start.
I have lost so much. We as a society could have had so much in this past election cycle (Kamala Harris wasn’t great but she sure as fuck wasn’t this) and while I’ve seen TRUE bone chilling right wing terror as an ex Mormon.. This is pretty fucking terrifying. Everyone was warned and they didn’t listen. My system actually foresaw much of this. So we’re just mourning what could have been while trying to do the work, trying to keep our heads above water… And I am tired, deep down in my soul.
And this realization has led me to sit with the grief and the pain of being chronically ill, psychologically tortured, and often isolated before the election, and I’m doing another round of processing that, too. It feels in a way like I’m falling down a bottomless well of pain and grief. Or maybe I never stopped falling down that fucking well.
I’m not sure. Either way, it seems to help me breathe a little easier to put words to it however I can. I want to cry. I feel like I need to cry. But I haven’t been able to yet. So I’m just gonna keep working through things in my mind until I’m able to open the floodgates, I suppose. Everything fucking physically hurts in the meantime.
I’m not going to give up the fight, though. I don’t see the situation here as hopeless. There’s a lot of good happening amidst the bad, and I’m not suicidal or anything. I’m just badly in need of rest and time to sit with this further, so that’s what I’m gonna do.
Signing off for now,
-Allēna
Fediverse Reactions
-
-
I’m so tired today.
But at least I’m pretty sure that what I’m feeling is complex grief about, well, everything, and burnout as a result.
Checkmate, alexithymia.
I’m gonna try my best to take it slow today. I just feel like I have very little to give to anyone and have felt that way for awhile.
-Allēna
Fediverse Reactions
-
-
The Art of Bitching
Well, this is an interesting prompt.
What do you complain about the most?
I tend to complain a lot about anything that’s difficult or exhausting for me while in the process of doing it. It helps me bypass my executive dysfunction and my deeply rooted perfectionism, which often makes it damn near physically painful to get out of my blanket lump, so cussing about having to do the task makes the task doable.
It’s one of the joys I have discovered in adulthood, as when I was a child and teen, I was often made to do things without showing a hint of displeasure. My parents insisted that I did everything they wanted “with a cheerful heart”. So I often did, but gave them hell the rest of the time and would find ways to maliciously comply with that rule while doing the task. They learned pretty early that the only way to get me to do anything that I didn’t really give a shit about well was to pay me a king’s ransom 🤣. But now that I am away from them and better for it, I bitch about damn near everything that I have to do that doesn’t involve being cocooned in a blanket lump while in the process of getting shit done.
I don’t mind being productive, for the record. I actually quite enjoy it. It just hurts a lot of the time. Bitching about the task at hand gets me to start the process of being productive, and I highly recommend it.
How do y’all get shit done?
-Allēna
