it's my birthday today. i'm 25 now. i was determined to make it an actual good birthday. i was having trouble planning because i don't really know anyone who masks and takes precautions so i wouldn't be able to have food like i like with people. so i was thinking maybe just my roommates and my partner. but i've been so wiped out just from pain this week. it's been level 8 or 9 pain pretty much every day. i started posting these real bleak posts on instagram. i'm losing motivation to live guys, i'll be honest. the pain is too much, and it's making it so i can't even do things that make life feel worth living to me, like working on this website, doing art, watching videos and tv... like those are the most basic things lol. i can't sit up. i can't think. i can cook because standing for a little bit is ok, especially if i'm using a rollator, but. fuck.
anyway i started being really honest on instagram because i couldn't type on my laptop, but thumb typing on my phone in fetal was alright. and my mom saw and she called me crying yesterday morning saying i'm dying and she's gonna miss me and i have to let her take care of me for a couple days and she'll take me to urgent care. she promised they would be nice and they could do all the tests there, and they were nice but it turns out they couldnt' do any. so they told us to go to the emergency room, and they did a blood and urine test and the nurse was really nice, but the doctor was a piece of shit. as expected with a lot of white doctors, especially emergency doctors. but she asked questions and didn't even let me respond. she didn't even acknowledge the pain and said i should take tums for my discomfort. i don't know if i laughed in front of her or if i managed to hold it back until she left.
my mom didn't even remember it was my birthday. and yet here she was telling me last week i need to do something special because it's a big year. frankly i didn't even know if i would make it today. the pain was so bad i literally thought i was going to die. and then a white lady lets us waste time and money on an er visit just to tell me to take tums. on wednesday i was praying to all the ancestors i knew by name to take me that night and take me painlessly. and i mean i had given up so i didn't really care my mom didn't really give me a choice about getting medical care. i believed her a little bit that they could do something. i just went home with a flare because i had to be up and about and took my own pain meds i had been taking already that only do so much.
now the pain has spread to the right side. i think all the doctors ive seen over the years haven't really cared because it's been the left side. i keep hoping i'll die by something serious and then the people who dismissed me all this time will feel guilty.
on wednesday i started thinking about what i wanted to do if i found out i was dying. i would not let anyone i'm not already seeing in person visit me. i would not give them a chance to talk to me. i would not give them a chance to get closure. if i had time and capacity i would make a webcomic and go until i couldn't anymore, and leave it unfinished. i would leave letters for people who abused and assaulted me with their full names and cuss them out for what they did to me. i would leave a general letter to all the friends i havent been able to see in a year because they dropped their precautions that i've been mad at them because they haven't been taking precautions. and if i had the energy, i would make a zine or something to say it's always made me mad that people try to take life lessons from dying people and i would say i'm not gonna leave yall with anything profound because there's nothing profound about feeling your health decline slowly for years while everyone dismisses you. and that i won't do anything to assuage any regret on what they did or said or didn't do or say in my life, and i would leave them to deal with that shit on their own, for the rest of the life that they have left. and i will die mad at them all.
i'm starting to feel like my mom just brought me to deal with whatever feelings she's having. it doesn't feel like it's been about me. she forgot it was my birthday. she talked about her mom who died when she called me yesterday to let me know she's gonna drive to get me.
ive always felt like a doll. ive felt that the most with people who had crushes on me throughout the years, because it never felt like they liked me for me. they liked me for the person i tried to be for them. my mom mourned as if i died when i made the decision to leave school so that i wouldn't fucking die. i gave up her dream and started presenting more androgynously. and she openly mourned in front of me.
there's a lot of shit coming up that's been crossing over. i think we've also been integrating a bit because i've been remembering a bunch of things, like specific experiences with abusive partners or things from my childhood. i've been slowly processing that my mom wasn't the good parent, she just failed me in a different way.
for a lot of my life i wanted to do good by others. it was my parents for a lot of my life, and then in my process of being radicalized, it's been... idk just everyone generally. i've wanted a good future for everyone else. why did i never consider myself too?
fuck everyone now.
i think also i didn't accept that i was disabled for a lot of my life because in my head disabled people are one of the most oppressed groups of people, so they must be listened to and fought for. i never thought i deserved to be listened to and fought for.
my partner says i'm a fighter and i guess i can finally see it now. i finally feel the anger i've been burying my whole life. i don't want to do anything for anyone else anymore. i don't want to join mutual aid networks because it's the right thing to do. i want to join a mutual aid network because i need the care. i want free mobility aids. i want gluten free meals in exchange for my colored pencil drawings. i want to get everything i need and want without work. i want to advocate and lobby just for the future i want, as selfish as it may feel. i want to demand attention. i want to get into fights. i want to drop all the friends and family who don't have disability justice already in their praxis, and i don't want to stick around to try to educate them. i want to spend time instead with people with ptsd, drug addictions, disabilities, and/or houselessness. those are the only people i feel safe around. i want a house with a vegetable garden, a couple cats, a couple dogs, and a couple kids. i want to make ugly, angry art that no one understands and most people hate for no money at all, but just because i need to do it to live. i want rotating caretakers and a wheelchair covered in stickers. i want to be one of those people who are very obvious and open with their anger, with frequent outbursts. i don't want to bottle anything again. i don't want to sacrifice anything again.
i've ignored most of the birthday messages i've gotten today. i feel like an asshole. but i've been at level 8-9 pain for upwards of 2 weeks and went to the er on my birthday. i feel justified.