2018 Year in Review (Chronically Ill version). I was sick every single day, 365 days in a row, no shit. I had a couple of relatively good days but I have no idea what I did to deserve them and was unable to replicate them. I had a lot of bad days. Overall, I am feeling worse over time. For some reason I’m still here which terrorizes and terrifies me every minute of every day. I surpassed my mental and physical limits a long time ago but no one cares what my limits are. It’s a miracle that I’ve avoided either the hospital or jail due to intractable physical and mental pain. The End. LMAO @ “The End.” Who am I kidding, this is going to go on forever. I’m starting to think I died and came back because there is no way any human being could live through this for this long and I’m pretty sure I actually died like twice, if not 4 or 5 times that I can think of. Am I am zombie? Or a ghost? A ghost would make perfect sense since I seem to be invisible now. What the fuck. I have no idea what’s happening to me. The End. LOL. FML.
But seriously, I have found myself wishing people “Happy New Year!” as if there is anything likely to be “new” about it when my life as a chronically ill person has been completely the same day in and day out for going on 6 years now (I was diagnosed in 2013). Meet the new boss! Same as the old boss. And chronic, progressive illness is the boss baes. I no longer have much if any say over what happens to me. For some reason in my well-wishes I have also included something like “I hope 2019 sucks less ass than previous years” but truthfully is late-stage capitalism and patriarchy — or chronic illness — likely to improve with time? Is it? I’m just asking. And apologizing to anyone I may’ve said that to because in hindsight I realize it’s ridiculous.
I have enjoyed (not the right word) writing this blog and interacting with those who choose to do that. I hope it has been helpful and a cohesive, coherent and relevant project. I think it has been. The first posts I wrote for this project were literally the first opportunity and ability I had in the nearly 4 years I have been here to gather and articulate my thoughts about what has happened to me since I’ve been ill and treating with both Western medicine and now medical cannabis, including what it all means politically in a big-picture way. I think I did that accurately, and radically, and well. Importantly, this project also helped me to recover my sanity and even my identity which were suffering under the heat and weight of my lived experience — living with a chronic, progressive disease, as an unkept female, under late-stage capitalism and patriarchy is hell, utter hell. I know there are people here who understand what that means. I didn’t understand it until it happened to me.