This isn’t going to be an uplifting blog. I had dreams of writing amusing stories from my every day like my hero, The Bloggess, but my life doesn’t offer many of those moments. Mostly I lay in bed burying myself in books, or an occasional TV series, as an attempt to hide from reality.

The thing is that I haven’t worked a job for at least 2 years. I used to nanny for a family member until the darling starting school. My every day had purpose and I was very devoted to her. I was also sometimes a bitch on her behalf and tried to control everything I could. I am overcome with a feeling of righteousness in regards to children and I can’t seem to stop myself.

Anyway since I haven’t worked for 2 years and my boyfriend/domestic partner/fellow parent has extreme anxiety involving much about life…we are literally broke 99% of the time. I’m not exagerating. I think it’s hard for people to contemplate the kind of existence I’m referring to. In a month we have $150 to live on. If we didn’t live in Government housing we would be homeless. Hopefully you aren’t feeling too judgemental.

The thing is that all of my life I’ve been smothered by depression and anxiety. When I was a child my mother took me to doctors to find out why I wasn’t as energetic as most children. I had frequent problems with going to school. At the time my mom had no idea what anxiety was. Depression was just being sad sometimes. I would get sick every morning worried about going to school. It wasn’t just academics (altho…FUCK MATH); The social aspect of school was terrifying. I would cling to certain people and couldn’t make more than one friend at a time. I hid on a playground instead of going to school when I was in 2nd grade because of a math test. 2ND GRADE. This pattern would continue all the way through High School.

I think I’m drifting. Trying to illuminate that my brain hates me. The chemistry is all screwed up in there.

I’ve had maybe one job, other than nannying, that I lasted at a whole year. They usually end because I feel confined by expectations or because I just can’t get out of bed to go. Obviously I’ve lost many because I didn’t show up and never called again.

It gets better. By that I mean life is sooo interesting. In 2016 I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and Rheumatoid Arthritis AND Hypothyroidism. So begins the next 3 years of my body hating me too. It’s literally attacking itself. I was always a fairly healthy person. I managed to have an easy pregnancy with my daughter. I only had 3 surgeries and none were life threatening. Once I turned 36 my body just decided it was done.

So here I am. In pain/discomfort every day. My hands are really going to make me pay every time I sit at this desk and type. The part that worries me most about this illness is losing the easy use of my hands. How will I use my phone? How will I type? They get stiff and my thumb joint gets cramps when I’m doing nothing. My fingers stay numb most of the time when I’m simply laying down. It’s freaking terrifying.

This whole post is mostly pouring from my brain. When I write it is usually a stream of consciousness. I’m filled with misgivings about opening myself up to comments. I hate myself so much for being such a loser. Society tells us we must be productive and contribute. I don’t think I can ever give myself a break on that. So I hide from the world. Yet I’m here…putting this out there.