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The weight of my chronic illness is pressing on me, exhausting and depressing me. I can’t move, see, or think past my body today. Just recently I was feeling so proud of this body. I was beginning to not just consider it part of me but to love it a little too. Today though it is nothing but meat and misery I’m forced to drag around and long to be rid of.

I always feel like this on the day’s I have a doctor’s appointment. Today’s was both good news and bad. We’ve settled on a plan that goes past “wait and see”. I’ve waited and though what we have seen has been an improvement, it has been far too slow and too little to consider it a success. So, a little more wait but in the meantime there is will at least be actions to take.

This new plan is better than the one proposed to me a few weeks ago though it means some big changes. I’ll be back on an infusion medication and there will be a lot more wait and see to come. There are a lot of unknowns on the horizon too. Medication that may or may not work, side effects that may or may not manifest, and old symptoms that may or may not resurface. It’s a lot to worry about, and especially hard not to think about when you are supposed to be managing your stress levels.

I’m trying to remember that I am one of the lucky ones. I have support. I have healthcare. I can work. My condition is manageable. I will get through it and it will be okay.

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It’s the first official day back at work since the break and it’s turning out to be a lot harder to get through than I anticipated. The morning was fine, but I made sure to keep as close to my regular waking time and routine for most of the last two weeks.

No, today it is the afternoon that is exhausting me. I have been spoiled and gotten too used to freedom and control. My body and mind believe I should be at home resting or doing something more enjoyable or fulfilling rather than stressing or dreading the next 3 hours of my afternoon.

Still, I think I am coping well. I was needed more than I thought I would be and though that really cut into the time I hoped to spend on myself it felt good to be able to work. My health is improving and I can feel the difference in energy and confidence since I started working out and moving my body more. I feel sore but strong, tired but in a good way. Suddenly existing as a physical being is no longer a drag.


I’m home late from work, avoiding my to-do list and eating food I know is bad for me as a result. I don’t cope well when plans change it seems. I have to give myself permission to shut down here and there though. It’s the only way I can pull myself back up and begin again the next day. I have to be able to tell myself “Today this is ok, but tomorrow it is not.”

Sarah Gershman on Emotion as a Currency for Remembering Content

According to numerous studies, emotion is a basic currency for remembering content. A listener must connect emotionally to what they hear in order to remember what the speaker says. Simply, we remember most vividly the events in our lives in which we were most emotionally impacted.”

— Sarah Gershman, Do You Need Charisma to Be a Great Public Speaker? (via swissmiss)

006//366

Work was easy today. The general mood of my bosses and co-workers seemed to be a mutual reluctance and lack of enthusiasm. There was an unspoken agreement that since no one wanted to be very productive themselves each of us would turn a blind eye to the lack of productivity in the others. No one asked what projects anyone was doing, and no one batted an eye when we all slowly began to file out around midday.

I had planned to work a full day today but knowing this was going to be my last chance to head home for the day at lunchtime I thought I ought to take full advantage along with everyone else.

I didn’t feel like doing much of anything when I got home but I tried turning my focus for how hard my work out and my to-do list would be to get through to how good it would feel when I got through it all.

I turned off my mind and let myself simply exist, experience, and do through my body. And you know what, it worked. Sometimes we have to take away our own choices to get things done. Sometimes we have to stop asking ourselves how we think and feel about every little thing. Sometimes we have to stop asking ourselves what we would rather do. Sometimes we have to let go of thought and become pure action.

So I did my work out. I showered. I cooked dinner. I cleaned and put a few check marks on the to-do list and afterward when I had the time and the patience to ask myself again “What do you think?” or “How does this feel?” I got back contentment and pride.

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This time of the morning is my favorite time of the whole day. When the sun has just peeked over the horizon and the world goes from dark to suddenly fully, though not yet brightly, lit. There walls of the house turn shades of orange and pink and I can feel the plants, my pets, and my wife beginning to stir around the house. No matter how little sleep I get I always try to get up to witness my little world waking.


My muscles are sore from yesterday’s workout. It’s a good feeling knowing that, one, I exercised at all, and two, knowing that I do not have to exercise today.

I’ve spent most of the day in the “creativity room” working on bad writing that it turns out wasn’t about anything at all. I’m thinking of taking a break now to refocus my mind. I want to go clean and or read my book. Maybe I’ll go for a walk before the day turns too cold, or maybe I will make my way to the couch for the remainder of the evening instead. Sunday’s shouldn’t be all work and no rest, right?

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I woke up early to do some small things around the house and start some writing thinking I would be spending much of the day downtown at The Museum of Contemporary Art, but about an hour into the day, just as the sun beginning to rise, I changed my mind. The enthusiasm just wasn’t there.

I decided that, rather than venturing out into the world to fight the people, and the weather, and my own stupid anxiety, I would spend the day taking care of me instead.

So, I went to the pharmacy for my medication. I did my work out. I took a nice long shower and washed my hair. I listened to an amazing podcast. I changed my blog theme. I did a little writing, and I then collapsed on the couch to binge-watch Fleabag with my wife.

And I think I’ll stay like this for the rest of the night. I’m sore from the workout and exhausted from the shower. I have my laptop, my book, and my journal here, and there isn’t much more I’d like to do or anywhere else that feels more fulfilling to be.

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I’ve decided I’m no longer going to play parent to people who I have no responsibility for. Too many people want me to do the work and then hand over all the rewards to them after. They feel entitled to the respect and privilege I have earned by association.

This, I’m sorry to say, a problem I’ve encountered particularly from straight, white, cisgender men. They’ll get nothing more from me in 2020.

This is my own small resistance. My way of occupying my space, both the space I am entitled too by birthright and the space I have craved for myself with work, and pain, and passion. This is my way of setting up boundaries and expectations, and of making sure I am seen for my contribution rather than overlooked by others doing less.

I love to help. I am a team player. I want us all to succeed, but not to my mental, physical, or professional detriment. I don’t think that is asking for too much. It shouldn’t be, anyway.

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I was meant to be at work today but a lack of sleep over the last few nights and two days of stomach pain and headaches have kept me in bed. I was up early though. The sound and sickening smell of dog vomit hitting the carpet had me cleaning and rushing around before 5 AM. It’s my fault though. Last night I accidently left a large bone with her while I went out for dinner with friends. Normally only gets half of a treat like that at a time but in my absence she ate the whole thing. It’s going to be a long day for both of us.

Now the plan for today is to write and to stay out of my wife’s way. She planned a very productive day for herself but my presence can be a distraction for her. We tend to fall into our cozy bubble and forget expectations, obligations, and plans when we are together. It’s a good and bad thing. As much as I’d love to pull her in now and pursued her to forget that to-do list and that feeling of accomplishment she’s chasing but I know that sometimes love means leaving the one you love alone so they can go live that part of their life that exists outside of you.

So, now I’m in the “creativity room” feeling quite directionless. I can’t write so I’m making lists instead which I hope will be useful for the next time I can’t write. I’m watching Crash Course Psychology videos picking out useful phrases, writing them on scrap pieces of paper, and word associating whatever I write down. It feels like I’m doing something but I’m scared I’m really not. I suppose it depends the truth depends on what I do with the lists and notes next.

Most of the time they collect into piles on my desk that get purged yearly. Most end up as nothing but trash because I lose the context that sparked them. I suppose if I went back tomorrow and followed up I could actually make something out of them instead.


Time is moving blissfully slow tonight while my wife and I share plates of leftover crab and sausage, sip the last of the wine we’ll have for a while, and watch episodes of Modern Love on Amazon in a sweet re-celebration of New Year’s day.

The house is nice and clean and after her errands she brought home night lights to put throughout the house for me now that I’m up so often in the middle of the night and so early in the mornings. All that good food, this home, her, our new shared last names, the new year, and the shot of amaretto I had after dinner, all of it is swirling around in my head and filling me with the most exquisite happiness.

P.S. The dog is doing much better. She only threw up twice today and for the most part only on her own blankets and bed. This isn’t even out of the norm for her. She’s always had a rather sensitive stomach, like me. She’s had plenty of water and I’m sure by morning she’ll be back to her old self.

001//366

I made the mistake of binge-watching the new season of You on Netflix last night and ending up crawling into bed after 3:00 this morning. For the past few weeks I’ve been waking up as early as 5:00 AM adding at least 2 hours to my day in which to write or clean. Today I didn’t get up until 9:30 AM. I lost over 4 hours and gained absolutely nothing. So much for starting the new year off on a focused and productive note.

Still, the day isn’t over yet. There isn’t a lot sitting on my to-do list and with a little focus and a few cups of coffee I am sure I can check it all off no problem. I can take a nap if I feel sluggish and I can begin again tomorrow too.

Today I’m finishing up a few New Year’s blog posts here and then moving over to Submittable to search for pitching opportunities. I’d really like to try for 2 or 3 rejections this month though 8 or 9 would keep me on track for 100 before the end of the year. I also found this tweet from @writersofcolor with dozens of calls for pitches.

I started a spreadsheet to list the essay and article titles and topics I want to write and another sheet that lists all the dream publications I’ve always wanted to write for. Yes, this year everything is going down on paper, getting added the calendar, going into a spreadsheet, and being laid out in black and white to be brought forth into reality from.

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I spent the morning at the motor vehicle office with my wife, trying to complete step two of our name change before the new year is set to begin. We’d hoped for a day like yesterday at the social security office, exciting and easy, but this was entirely the opposite. We both encountered troubling issues and only one of us walked away with the name change applied. My wife will have to go back Friday and hope everything is cleared up by then.

Afterward, we set about the business of marking the last day of the year. Weeks ago we talked about going out tonight but our group of friends are in a delicate state right now and the world hasn’t felt very safe in general these past few days. It’s going to be bitter cold, we’re both over 30 and not as quick to recover as we once were, and to be honest not many events felt worth the expense so we’re staying in.

So instead we bought copious amounts of indulgent and delicious foods. We have a large spread of snacks, andouille sausage, crab legs, corn and potatoes for dinner, a bottle of white wine, some syrupy amaretto to sip, and two perfect little cakes for dessert.

I had thought I would spend the day reflecting on the past year, but I’ve done so much of that in the last 30 days that there is nothing else left to go over. This day feels outside of the calendar entirely now, not a part of 2019 but not yet 2020 either. Today is a day for waiting, a single breath taken before the beginning of a new journey. I’m ready to let go.

I only hope I can make it to midnight to kiss my wife and tell her I love her for the 18th New Year’s Day in a row.