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9:56 p.m.

I already feel like a burden and like I don’t have any friends but I miss you and our friendship. I miss human interaction and you wanting to actually hang out and be around. Maybe I’ve made it all up in my head but it’s hard feeling like I don’t have a place. I know a lot of it is chronic illness plus work and maybe I’m just being selfish and jealous but I feel like I could disappear and….

4:54 a.m. (Texts I’ll Never Send)

Do you think all these things we've done and said are going to land us in hell in the afterlife if hell even exists?

Maybe our karma is you and Em never having another baby and struggling more than not and me spending my life alone, not just in a romantic sense but like really fucking alone?

5:50 p.m.

I keep trying to think of something profound or deep to say on this eighth anniversary of getting hit by a car while in a crosswalk but words are scarce lately.

I’m thankful I wasn’t hurt more than I was—scrapes, bruises, and torn ligament in my right foot notwithstanding—and that I was only without a wheelchair for eight weeks but I find myself frustrated that eight years later the same crosswalk still feels like a death trap and that sometimes my existence feels like a prison.

Not to say I’m not happy or safe because while the first is most days harder to achieve than the second (which I always am), I’m always okay. I think.

9:55 p.m.

And there it is.

The sinking feeling that arrives at the end of each day reminding me I’ll never be good enough or that I’m too much. My mouth gets me in trouble when I say too much because I can’t leave anything unsaid and I over communicate. Time too leave it all here again. These words and these feelings can’t hurt anyone if they’re left to die here.

And also, my guts don’t feel right and my brain keeps alternating between appendicitis, diverticulitis and cancer so...

9:53 p.m.

Last night I planned to temporarily deactivate my account while I got my roller coaster of emotions more under control. Twenty four hours later, I still have much work to be done but I’m not completely overwhelmed for the first time in weeks and it’s a pretty wonderful feeling.

The preceding weeks have been completely overwhelming, full of fear, sadness, anger, and frustration mostly at myself but also at others. Some of these feelings were/are justified but many of them have not been. The sudden onslaught of “crazy” was due to a temporary, yet necessary, medication withdrawal. Tonight I was able to start the medication again and so while these feelings still need to be dealt with in more ways than with just medication I’m excited to finally begin feeling more levelheaded and less like I’m drowning.

Today especially reminded me that I really do have the best friends, whether they’re dropping everything to come clean my kitchen while I conduct a zoom interview after my millionth meltdown lately and leaving me with a bomb salad and cider or helping wrap and rewrap my knee or just listening to me cry and not trying to fix it, because I have no other release.

Thank you for putting up with me, friends. I love you all so much 💜

3:14 p.m.

I’ve been thinking about what it means to be disabled in a society that isn’t made for or always accepting of those with disabilities. I am incredibly fortunate to have a wonderful community of people that help in so many ways, especially lately. I don’t 4”know what I’d do without you and I’ll forever be thankful for you.

However, and I don’t know if it’s because of my personal life experiences (which have me temporarily off of my anxiety meds and increasingly more sensitive) or whatever else but the amount of casual or flippant ableism that has popped up in both my personal life and larger society isn’t okay.

My acceptance of my own disability is something I will never get away from. In fact, if I could choose to rid myself of this hateful body I would. But I can’t. And that internalized ableism is something I’m not proud of and am constantly working to reverse.

What hurts the most though isn’t the random strangers that have said or done things to my face or behind my back throughout my life. It’s realizing, either through verbalization or actions that some of the people that mean the most to me view me differently, pity me, or see me as lesser then because I can’t fucking walk.

I don’t know anymore.

5:58 p.m.

Today in Mario Kart and existential crises:

Me: Are you okay?

Joseph: I’m fine. I’ve just been on an emotional roller coaster for the last 26 years. It’s fine.

(two seconds later)

I SWEAR TO FUCK!

Happy Easter, friends! I hope your day is everything you need it to be 💜

3:58 a.m.

I woke up to pee and take a drink of some water and am now uncontrollably sad that he didn’t come here after the bar. Probably worse that he texted and said he almost did but then not because reasons.

I think I could go forever without sex but feeling alone gets old.

8:39 p.m.

Today has been *one of those days*

Tired and frustrated with my hateful body and broken mind and that no matter how much others say differently I can’t see them as anything else. I’m always anxious and my physical state of existence is often a good source of that anxiety.

I don’t know if my body hurts more today because of the change in weather or if, god forbid, my knee is infected. I pray it’s not. I cannot live through that again.

Relationships are hard, especially ones that live in limbo, and I don’t know how to make anything better. I serve as a placeholder and nothing else.

I am nobody’s home.

4:19 a.m.

Sometimes I think no one will ever touch this body again. Lord save me from this loneliness and these boys whom I serve as a placeholder for until their ever after comes along.

I’m not asking for marriage, a relationship or even sex. Just lay your warm body next to mine and (pretend) we’ll be alright.

“Because the Goddess was changeable and playful, because she looked upon natural chaos as lovingly as she did natural order, because her warm feminine intuition was often at odds with cool masculine reason, because the uterine magic of her daughters had since the dawn of consciousness overshadowed the penis power of her sons, resentful priests of a tribe of nomadic Hebrews led a coup against her some four thousand years ago—and most of what we know as Western civilization is the result. Life still begins in the womb, cocky erections still collapse and lie useless when woman’s superior sexuality is finished with them, but men control the divine channels now, and while that control may be largely an illusion, their laws, institutions, and elaborate weaponry exist primarily to maintain it.”

—Tom Robbins, “Skinny Legs and All”

From I don’t know when but definitely before the last snow 💜

Does Tumblr allow titles anymore because I can’t find the space for one but I use titles for my posts? Someone please help

#where did the title space go

10:43 a.m.

Didn’t fall asleep until after seven this morning and now I’ve awoken incredibly overwhelmed and anxious. I’m doing one time sensitive thing for the social media accounts that I manage for a local restaurant and then going back to bed.

1:33 a.m.

There’s so much I want to tell you but fate says otherwise. I feel so incredibly alone and angry and tired and I know what we’ve done is wrong but I never meant to hurt anyone.

God damn it, I miss you. I love you.

8:59 p.m.

I feel incredibly alone and it doesn’t even matter because I’m just a god damned burden. Simultaneously not enough and too much. I just want a reprieve from this pain. I don’t think it’s meant to be in this lifetime though.

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