Because, of course, we're all dying.
On disability, war, and caring about others.
I'm getting this one out a bit later than usual today thanks, in part, to a very full weekend, and also to my brain choosing to go an entirely different direction than I'd originally expected. Take care, friends.
“I'm not dying!”
- this is what I sent to a handful of friends in our group chat after finding out that what I thought was a blood clot (!!!) was actually some sort of strange bone growth in the soft tissue of my leg1 (???).
But that's not really true, is it - that I'm not dying?
Because, of course, we're all dying. We all just happen to do it at a different pace, and with different amounts of suffering along the way.
As a person with anxiety, this situation of believing my own death is imminent - only to find out that it is, in fact, not - has happened to me… an uncomfortable amount of times.
This time felt just as urgent, if not more so, than the other instances, due to the nature of my symptoms.
It always strikes me how unhurried and unworried everyone else appears to me as I'm panicking about something potentially harmful or life threatening.
But really, that's kind of what I feel like most of the time; that I'm quietly (or overtly) panicking about something while almost everyone around me seems fine.
I've been having increased intrusive thoughts recently, and I'm not sure if it's due to my seasonal depression, hormones, the state of the world, or something else, but I've been thinking a lot lately about how so many people can move through the same world I do, with access to the same information as me, and not be in a constant state of anxiety, stress, overwhelm and grief.
I've always known that I was more sensitive than many people - to experiences both in and outside of my body - yet it still feels strange to see that play out as I navigate the news, the medical industry…even the grocery store.
I think I've been very lucky to have made connections with people who experience the world in similar ways, who are sensitive to things the way I am, who can hold my pain and worry with me; and I know I've been privileged to have access to the information and resources that have led to a more comfortable understanding of myself so that, at least sometimes, this weight feels a bit easier to carry.
This past weekend, I went to the NY Sheep and Wool festival in Rhinebeck with my friend, and on the way there and back, we had a conversation about what's happening in Israel and Gaza2, among other things, and how heartbroken and angry we are all of the time.
I've been seeing a lot of similar sentiments in the little bubble I've created for myself on the internet, even as I hear secondhand about the apathy and aggression many of these people face when they share them.
That fiber festival my friend and I went to over the weekend was one of two near the same area, both of which were disappointingly inaccessible to many due to a lack of ADA3 compliance and to overwhelming crowds of mostly unmasked people.
When a relatively small amount of people raised their voices about this issue (not for the first time), and how this excludes and hurts people, they were met with backlash (also not for the first time) from people who apparently did not appreciate having to acknowledge the way that their actions - or the actions of others which they choose to ignore - inherently exclude others and/or make the space unsafe for them.
It's interesting to me, being as anxious and sensitive as I am, seeing so many people refuse to care (or even think) about issues that could easily one day affect them.
No one is immune to things like war, or disability, and yet so many people like to pretend they are; to make choices or to ignore actions that not only harm others, but could just as easily one day lead to their own exclusion or suffering.
I think people forget how quickly a person can become disabled; how quickly a favourite event could become inaccessible to them due to illness or injury.
I think people forget how quickly a disagreement between governments can turn into war; how quickly they as civilians could become casualties due to the cruelty and complacency of others.
I don't want for everyone to live with the kind of anxiety that I do, and I don't think that everyone needs to have the same level of sensitivity to choose to pay attention and to make choices that care for others, but I do think that it's harder for people like me to forget how easily the suffering of others could become my own. I think it's harder to ignore those who are already experiencing it, and the ways I may be complicit in it.
So I guess I just wish that more people would remember to think of others; would care enough to try to make the world safer for everyone.
Because, of course, we're all dying.
As usual, if this post resonated with you, please feel free to join us in the comments, and to share.
They called it Heterotopic Ossification. At this point, I'm used to having unusual problems (see: autism, ADHD, POTS, my extra wisdom tooth and lingering baby tooth, etc) but this one is entirely new to me. 😅
Like many, I have plenty of thoughts about this issue but don't feel qualified to speak on it directly, except to say that I am wholeheartedly against the genocide of Palestinians as well as antisemitism, and people are not their government - which many of my fellow Americans should well understand.
ADA stands for Americans with Disabilities Act; this is meant to ensure accessibility to public spaces for disabled folks; sometimes I forget that I'm one of those people because my disabilities are “invisible” but I found myself desperately wishing for a bench on more than one occasion as I navigated building after building with no seating - and my experience at Rhinebeck was far better than many had at Wool & Folk, the other fiber festival which was, for many, either an absolute nightmare or entirely inaccessible.
Appreciate what you shared here A! Many angles to respond to...First the grief, the ways of our world can be overwhelming. Many times I have to pull back, rest, read, walk in nature, do anything that is nurturing. It is a fine line between feeling the grief and getting lost in it. Feeling it, I sense that I am offering something to the world, Getting lost in it, I am harming myself. It is a deep practice in self-care.
Second, as I find myself aging I feel the population at large goes on as it death is never going to happen.. As you said, "we're all dying." Hmmm maybe it is more the fear of death that drives it, it could be both. I am concerned by the way aging and dying is hidden away. How getting older means someone no longer has value. I am doing my own work around this and sharing about it as I can. For I am finding the ancient ways of eldering and the grandmothers are needed right now more than ever.
Thirdly, can we just support each other? I so hear you around this. It does not need to be complicated. I find it only takes listening and paying attention, making the choice to care. We are interrelated and interdependent after all.
It’s a hard balance between knowing enough and knowing too much. I’ve had to turn off news and stop reading so much about difficult current events because a) my anxiety around them isn’t actually helping anyone, least of all me, and b) I want to focus more on what’s happening closer to home that I can ACTUALLY participate in.
I’ve definitely donated money to those who are helping in wars and natural disasters, but then I have to turn it off. Otherwise I simply end up in a state of overwhelm and freeze and really don’t do anything helpful anyway.
For most of human history, they didn’t have the same access to what was happening beyond their communities like we do today; I wonder if there’s a balance and boundary in there.