life
I posted nearly 4 years ago that I hoped to be posting more regularly. Grad school. My cat dying. Grad school . COVID. Bipolar diagnosis. Psychosis. Mental hospital. My partner's cat dying. My snakes dying. Life is what it is. I still have one class left. I may or may not complete my degree. Life is nothing but smoke and shadows, nothing you can hold in your hand. Solidity is an illusion provided by pills that I fucking hate taking. It's odd living with a chronic disability. What my mother calls a catastrophic illness. We have a life expectancy 7-10 years less than normal people. Suicides in part, but we also have faster. Like, not just metaphorically in the world wear sense but literally in our cells. Add onto that the fact that bipolar is a neurodegenerative disorder -- each episode makes the chances of future episodes more likely, and each episode gets worse. Some of us end up with dementia. I'm privileged to have good health insurance. I'm privileged to have a fam