Why?

I should start off by saying that compulsively starting things only to be filled with anxiety about continuing them has been my somewhat of a hobby of mine since I was fourteen years old. surely, this blog will be no different. I will probably start off by posting regularly and
then giving up on it only a few months later.  There are a lot of unfinished art projects, skeins of half used yarn,  and one excitedly-purchased-but-never-used Ukulele sitting around my house.

Given that disclaimer, you may be asking yourself why I would want to start posting my thoughts all over the interwebs only to further agitate my anxiety, yes?  Welp, I just turned 30 and am doing some sort of obligatory self-evaluation and introspection.

 I am disabled and have Chronic Depression, Borderline Personality Disorder and Anxiety. I was born with Spastic Cerebral palsy, with that combined with mental illness,  I feel like I am made up of half finished or modge-podged broken bits that were put together to resemble a human form.

I feel like I have struggled with the concept of being a "whole" person my entire life which might sound absolutely ridiculous and dramatic to most people abled-bodied or not.

Anyway, here are a few things I learned from my most recent introspective analysis:

I don’t know if aches and pains are more prominent due to this introspection  but my back (spine) hurts constantly. My right hip has been popping out of place for years, but now it seems like it does so with even the slightest movement or turning of my body. There is also a new throbbing sensation which is constant. My fingers ache as if I have been standing in the cold for hours.

Fun fact: apparently, I say Arthritis like Fred Sanford. As in, "I think I might have arthur-rite-us in my hands, my legs, and back. All over, really,"

   Continuing on, I also noticed that  I can no longer put on my right shoe by myself because I cannot tilt my foot at the right angle to put it in my shoe. Sometimes, I get so frustrated that I cry or throw those shoes halfway across the room .I tell myself how I am over-reacting and illogical when simple things send me into panic. I tell myself this is just my body getting older, but the truth is that the only time I feel half way okay is when I am lying in bed and even then there are still echoes of phantom pains.

 Still, laying in bed living vicariously through Facebook posts brings random bought of jealously because people are able to do things like work or attend classes.  People constantly say that I am lucky that I get to stay home all the time but the truth is, I would rather be anywhere else. The social construct of comparing myself to others is like throwing myself in a pit of lions, wondering why I got mauled, and then frantically trying to bandage my own wounds.If you combine all that with lack of energy and you can pretty much sum up that every day is a struggle in and out of my own head.

  So, long post short, This is me attempting to drag myself out of that pesky pit.