It’s World Mental Health Day, I Guess?

Here’s a thing to think about.
Living in the United States right now is weird.
Like, there are shittier places to be alive – more ecologically degraded, more polluted, and so on.
And there are more dangerous places to be alive – Ukraine and Israel/Palestine spring readily to mind.
The United States is more a sort of rolling, low grade panic -attack kind of place to be alive right now.

Because, get this. The US is this great big shining beacon of freedom and safety, right? It’s this idea, and an ideal, supposedly made real.
Except when it isn’t. Which is, like, all the time.

At any moment, you could be lying in bed asleep, and
the police could burst in, guns blazing, because they got the address wrong.
the police could burst in, guns blazing, because some kid decided to play a stupid prank.
a neighbor could burst in, guns blazing, because he doesn’t like the way you mow your lawn.
some random stranger could burst in, guns blazing, because he doesn’t like your bumper sticker.
or your preference for a life partner.
or your preference for reading material.
or the color of your skin.
or, you know, mix and match any of the above conditions. Or all of them all at once.

It’s maybe not terrifically likely. But it happens. It happens to someone almost every single day. And the longer you are alive in the United States, the more odds stack up. And so, living here, you have to wonder:

When is it going to be your turn?

Anyway, here’s to mental health. You find any, let me know.

Further musings on disability

Fully-able people just plain don’t understand disability.  They can’t.  Not really.
For the able, disability is temporary.  They heal.  The pain and the suffering have an end date.
For the chronically disabled, the suffering is endless – if not absolutely constant, or even consistent.
This has been the biggest difficulty to adapt to as my life has changed in the last few years.  My understanding of this phenomenon is still developing.  My acceptance is proving much, much slower to develop.  My disability is not great, escpecially not in a relative sense.  But goddamn.
But, I think, I am finally coming to terms.
I’ve stopped asking, “When will it stop?”
I’ve started asking, “How do I manage it for today?”

A Portait of the Artist in his Prime

He overflowed with nervous energy.

He couldn’t keep his hands still.  He tried to control their motion by washing dishes, darning socks; he ran his hands through his hair, or stroked one of the thirty cats that roamed his abode.  But he couldn’t focus and so nothing was ever finished.

His legs jiggled when he sat; when he stood he danced an unending jig.  The motion interfered with his every task, and he wore a perpetually put-upon air as if mildly disgusted with himself.  He only slept when completely exhausted by uninterrupted days of restless wakefulness.

Expressions of Existence #72: Once Upon a Time

There was a time

When I was only comfortable while running

My mind beaten into submission

     By the piston thrust of my legs

     By my feet slapping the earth

     By my lungs burning and straining

          To deliver oxygen to my muscles

     By the moisture wringing from every pore

          From every breath

As If….

I used to conceive of physical disability in terms of my knee.  

Years ago, I tore a ligament in my knee.  To this day, that knee is prone to spraining with little or no provocation.  Ladders are bad.  Stairs and even kerbs can be scary.  Any kind of jumping is strictly forbidden.  And *forget* all about playing soccer ever again.