People ask me about the origin and purpose of this blog. I tell them something like this: that I write here because I cherish human ingenuity, our boundless curiosity, our capacity for empathetic connection, and our ability to nurture creativity within ourselves and others. Writing is deeply personal for me, inspired by the works and people that have uplifted me from the darkest periods of hardship in my life.
There were times when I felt consumed by my struggles, that I gave up, only to be gently guided to safety by outside forces (whether by fate or chance is a theoretical, epistemological debate to be had at another time). I think I am lucky that I was not alone, driven by the knowledge that failure was not an option as long as I was accountable to the people who loved and supported me.
To struggle is to fight against the current.
I was living on a sailboat in New England, wintering in the bay without running water nor septic. Unbeknownst to me, I had been born with dopa-responsive dystonia, and also living with a uterine growth that was disrupting my endocrine system, compounding the challenges of living in harsh conditions without modern amenities. I also suffered from excruciating cluster headaches and trigeminal migraines with aura, which can drive people to consider taking their own lives. I too reached that desperate point, but I survived.
TW: suicide ideation
I had done everything I could think of to self-care, which often led to days of missed work and class and intermittent but painful isolation as I desperately attempted to cope with the disorder. My partner at the time became frustrated and did not understand the pain I was in. They thought I was faking it. I had trouble speaking, I could not move without throbbing pain rushing into my head. I felt like a burden to the world, and as my personal world grew ever smaller and quieter, I believed it so much more. Then, one day, I locked myself in a bathroom and poisoned myself with gas until I became unconscious. I sensed the feeling in my fingers, toes, arms and legs dissolve as I faded into nothingness. I collapsed on the floor and stopped breathing. The pain was finally gone, and silence crept over my mind…
(Hold that thought, because this story does have a happy present.)
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