LJ Idol Season 11: Feckless
When you are disabled, you have to develop a thick skin, because people will make the worst assumptions about you. I have always managed that quite well when it comes to the "have you tried [$thing]?" Especially where the variable is anything from yoga to wholesale diet changes to the latest fad. And for the record, with my particular issues, yoga does help! Cutting out white flour and high fructose corn syrup also helps! And I don't mind discussing those things with people.
What I do mind, what I've never been able to manage to shrug off, are the people who assume I'm lazy, feckless, or gleefully living off someone else's largesse. "Oh, it must be so nice to be able to be at home all the time."
Perhaps if I was just hanging out at the house because I wanted to, it'd be one thing. But that's never been the case for me. I prefer being busy, having a purpose. Me at home without a 'job' is often a dangerous thing. I get bored. I get restless. I get in my own head, and it's become a bad thing. Thankfully, I managed to find my own way to a purpose of sorts. I wrote books! I wrote a lot of books, actually. And it was great, but it never went anywhere. It never became what I needed it to be, and that was a sadness that weighed on me.
I also spent a lot of time working on my invisible illnesses. I researched treatments. I tried different things. I went through medication roulette for both the mental and physical side of things, and spent a lot of time learning what didn't work. Then, finally, when I'd all but given up, I found things that DID work and didn't kill me with side effects! It's been a year now, and I'm doing a lot better. So much better, in fact, that I took a huge risk and applied for a job that I really, really wanted.
I got the job.
And now I'm going back to work in December, after having been crippled and on disability for well over a decade. (And YES, I am using that word intentionally, and NO, you don't get to tell me it's a slur. It is MY WORD. I am a cripple, and I am part of the #cripplepunk movement, and I'm damn proud of it.) I am, quite frankly, terrified. I have made huge strides thanks to finally finding a combination of medications that help with my pain and sleep, but there are still a lot of variables that I can't control. Variables that don't matter so much when you don't have to be on someone else's schedule.
On the other hand, I'm so excited. And I freely admit that part of the excitement is knowing that the next time I get asked that dreaded question "what do you do for a living?" I won't have to have a handy euphemism, or lie, or use one of the many freelance projects that I did over the years as a "living" when it never made any money, really. I'll be able to say "I work for the Agency for Persons with Disabilities" and be damn proud of it.
Because, yeah. Working for the government, in a department that has more than one disabled person in it? Helps take a LOT of the stress and worry off me. They get it. And hopefully, they'll be able to help me succeed.
Because I'm not feckless-- I never have been. I had challenges that sidelined me for too damn long. But I'm feeling better, and I want to try again. I may fail. But I'm going to try my hardest, and I'm going to enjoy every step on the path. If it gets me to where I can fake normal, yay! If I fail, I haven't really lost anything. I've just learned-- again!-- what doesn't work for me.
So, wish me luck!
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth. There are
comments there. You may comment there, or here.
What I do mind, what I've never been able to manage to shrug off, are the people who assume I'm lazy, feckless, or gleefully living off someone else's largesse. "Oh, it must be so nice to be able to be at home all the time."
Perhaps if I was just hanging out at the house because I wanted to, it'd be one thing. But that's never been the case for me. I prefer being busy, having a purpose. Me at home without a 'job' is often a dangerous thing. I get bored. I get restless. I get in my own head, and it's become a bad thing. Thankfully, I managed to find my own way to a purpose of sorts. I wrote books! I wrote a lot of books, actually. And it was great, but it never went anywhere. It never became what I needed it to be, and that was a sadness that weighed on me.
I also spent a lot of time working on my invisible illnesses. I researched treatments. I tried different things. I went through medication roulette for both the mental and physical side of things, and spent a lot of time learning what didn't work. Then, finally, when I'd all but given up, I found things that DID work and didn't kill me with side effects! It's been a year now, and I'm doing a lot better. So much better, in fact, that I took a huge risk and applied for a job that I really, really wanted.
I got the job.
And now I'm going back to work in December, after having been crippled and on disability for well over a decade. (And YES, I am using that word intentionally, and NO, you don't get to tell me it's a slur. It is MY WORD. I am a cripple, and I am part of the #cripplepunk movement, and I'm damn proud of it.) I am, quite frankly, terrified. I have made huge strides thanks to finally finding a combination of medications that help with my pain and sleep, but there are still a lot of variables that I can't control. Variables that don't matter so much when you don't have to be on someone else's schedule.
On the other hand, I'm so excited. And I freely admit that part of the excitement is knowing that the next time I get asked that dreaded question "what do you do for a living?" I won't have to have a handy euphemism, or lie, or use one of the many freelance projects that I did over the years as a "living" when it never made any money, really. I'll be able to say "I work for the Agency for Persons with Disabilities" and be damn proud of it.
Because, yeah. Working for the government, in a department that has more than one disabled person in it? Helps take a LOT of the stress and worry off me. They get it. And hopefully, they'll be able to help me succeed.
Because I'm not feckless-- I never have been. I had challenges that sidelined me for too damn long. But I'm feeling better, and I want to try again. I may fail. But I'm going to try my hardest, and I'm going to enjoy every step on the path. If it gets me to where I can fake normal, yay! If I fail, I haven't really lost anything. I've just learned-- again!-- what doesn't work for me.
So, wish me luck!
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth. There are
comments there. You may comment there, or here.