I wrote an article for Medium last night about hustle culture and the fact that my shortage of spoons makes it unlikely that I’ll ever develop a successful side gig.
The truth is that right now at least, I don’t feel like I can ever even go to grad school. Maybe that’s just poorly managed depression talking but it just feels like an impossible dream.
I feel really compelled to find something to do with my life that feels worthwhile. But right now, all I want to do is sleep. I have 3 articles due tomorrow and several errands to run and I don’t know how I’ll get all of them done.
It seems like this should be more possible for me than it is but it’s just not.
There’s also the matter that I take Provigil to keep me awake and I’ve run out a few days early. It was also pretty unfortunate that Kroger switched generics and my neurologist wouldn’t prescribe me a new one at a different pharmacy.
The new generic has terrible side effects (like sores inside of my nose), in addition to not working nearly as well. I’m just trying to hang on until I can get a refill. But unfortunately, unless I get really lucky, I probably won’t have any at all when I have to drive 2.5 hours and back twice this weekend to pick up my son at college and then take him back. That alone will take days to recover from.
I’m thinking again about how the US is so screwed up and I might be better off moving to another country when my husband dies. But that always comes back to questions of where I’d go and whether or not I’d ever get used to it. The fact that it’s cheaper isn’t necessarily the only factor that counts.
J’s doing everything he can to stay alive until I get his social security benefits. But honestly, I’m not sure that I want to go on without him. This is just so NOT what I expected from my future. I’ll need freelance income to supplement the disability and survivor benefits and I hate relying on freelancing so much.
I’ve been thinking a lot about his death lately. I don’t know if that’s because of everything screwed up with my meds or just because I can hear him coughing loudly when he tries to sleep.
The doctor says the cough is just caused by “bronchial thickening” but it really seems like it’s caused by the cancer. So many things seem like they’re caused by the cancer. It really makes it a lot harder to stay hopeful and positive.
I don’t even know if positive mental health is a realistic goal on my part. If I’m taking the Abilify, I feel like I can get through anything—but that also includes spending more, which I really can’t afford to do.
Without that help, it just feels like everything sucks and the world is dark and grey. I don’t know how to deal with it so I just try to escape it by sleeping, but then I’m aware of all that I’m not getting done—which in turn, makes me panic more about how much I’m fucking up, which then makes me want to sleep more.
It’s a no-win situation. I’m trying my hardest to turn it into a win somehow for me but that just never works.