Chronic Illness and Pain

Happy Canada Day from your grouchy neighbourhood cripple

I really do hope you’re having an excellent day, regardless if you celebrate Canada Day or not. It’s Saturday and that’s a nice day so have a wonderful one if you can. As for myself, I’m grouchy and grumpy, because I’m broken. Again. I’m up visiting my mom in Powell River and I was really hoping we could go to the special Canada Day farmers’ market today (an hour longer than usual!) and maybe hit up some celebrations elsewhere. Just, you know — go out, have fun, see people, enjoy the summer weather. INSTEAD, I am basically kind of

Chronic Illness and Pain / Medium Posts / Mental Illness and Mental Health

This is not for you: Productivity and Chronic Illness

This was originally posted on my Medium profile on February 7th, 2017. I read a lot of articles on productivity and improving one’s creativity and making life better. How to do better, be better, accomplish more, feel satisfied with my life, not feel like such a fucking failure all the time. I read these articles because productivity and discipline are things I struggle with and I want to see if there’s anything out there that can give me a leg up in reaching my goals. About 90% of them are explicitly not for me. I struggle with discipline, but

dispatches from the loony bin / Medium Posts / Mental Illness and Mental Health

Finding Back the Glue

This post was originally posted on my Medium profile on January 13, 2016. Sometimes I imagine myself as a table, holding a mug. The mug is my sanity, and the table is my life, it’s me, it’s the sum total of experiences and memories and everything that makes me, me. The table has three uneven legs; they are wobbly and patched in places. One might actually be a real, human leg, but we’re not asking where it came from. Glued together, stapled, hinged, whatever’s available has been used. In the center of the table, between the legs, is a

Nanowrimo / Ten Thousand Hours of Procrastination / Writer Life

I’m failing Nanowrimo this year (and considering it a success)

I know what you’re about to say. You can’t fail Nanowrimo, so long as you get some writing done! If that’s the criterion, I have failed this year, because I have written 0 words. Zero. Look: Nothing. No words on Anala, no words on From the Ashes; just a smattering of words on blogs and some rants on Facebook. And yet I’m counting this month as a success. Why? Simple. Even though I planned to write this month and failed, I managed to not beat myself up about it once. I managed to not feel shame. I managed to

The Third Age / Writer Life

Letting Go of Shame

I just read this great piece by Daniel José Older called Writing Begins With Forgiveness: Why One of the Most Common Pieces of Writing Advice Is Wrong. There’s a paragraph I really want to share with you, so I’m going to quote it here: Here’s what stops more people from writing than anything else: shame. That creeping, nagging sense of ‘should be,’ ‘should have been,’ and ‘if only I had…’ Shame lives in the body, it clenches our muscles when we sit at the keyboard, takes up valuable mental space with useless, repetitive conversations. Shame, and the resulting paralysis,

Mental Illness and Mental Health / Open Letters / People Are Assholes

An Open Letter to the Man Who Called Me A “Retard” Today

Dear Sir, whomever you may be, I hope you feel good. I hope that you are sitting in satisfaction at never having made a mistake in your entire human life. I hope that you know that you must be perfect, that the gods shine love down upon you and bless you in ways they do not bless other mortals. This must be the case. I can’t fathom any other reason you would feel it necessary to scream “Nice fucking parking job, retard. Next time stay in your own fucking lane!” at me for a parking job that, yes, while

Mental Illness and Mental Health

Day 3

Content warning: emetophobia, depression, thoughts of self-harm/suicide A week ago I had the flu. I call it the “Angry Badger Flu” because it felt like two angry badgers were fighting in my stomach and ripping up my insides and punching my gag reflex like it was a button that would give them kibble. Luckily, that portion only lasted one night, but the terrible nausea continued for a week. Consequently I went without meds for a week. Taking pills of any sort often triggers my gag reflex and I always have to be super careful when swallowing pills to make