What's your deal?
WHY ARE YOU HERE!?
WHO ARE YOU!?!?
This month has been a doozie and one of my longest in years. Stress levels were super high and sleep has been rare, hence why my blogging is like the aforementioned theoretical puke and all over the place. [Tangent: Yeah, if I'm going with it...I'm going hard.] It makes me feel good to hear from people that are sticking with me, even in my incompetent and non-regimented blogging [Tangent: Seriously, you committed bloggers who crank out 3 a week on a scheduled timetable awe and baffle me. Some days I just can't force it and other days I can sit at my laptop and have too many ideas that squeeze out of my fingertips onto the screen. I'm definitely all or nothing in every facet of my life.]. It helps that occasionally I get virtual high fives when I desperately need them or little reminders that there are real people on the other side of all this binary code who give a shit about my rambling opinions and erratic feelings after 6 years on this ferris wheel.
Sometimes these messages from the great beyond of internet strangers are bizarre and make me laugh aloud inordinate amounts. Ex: Sometimes I get marriage proposals in scrambled English, or rather people (represented by horses) being very non-selective, but knowing for sure they want a wheelchair wife.
[Tangent: I have written about this happening previously here. My sister has a theory that their must be a resource center for people seeking citizenship, and one of the "hot tips" is to find a gal with a disability to court as we must seem desperate or easy marks or something. To be honest, its terrible, but kind of an interesting angle.] Should I be flattered or completely repulsed that these folks assume I am the Heidi Fleiss of the disabled community? A little from column A...a little from column B.
Then other times I get really nice emails that kind of throw me for a loop and make me feel like this whole thing is not a waste of energy. On one of my most draining days last week where I was running on coffee fumes, I opened my email to find the best kind of email. I wasn't gonna write about until my friends asked me if I was going to...and I thought "why not?"
The message was from a hilarious girl I had never met who was born into a body that was atypical. She grew up very much like me, perfectly mainstreamed and not having a lot of everyday exposure or assumed commonality with other people who were born into different bodies. Even though she was completely successful and had awesome friends and family, she still felt like she didn't quite have a community or an understanding peer. She found my blog at a time when she was going through some soul searching, and apparently felt a kinship and it gave her a lot of confidence to put herself out there and even try new things that are effing terrifying...like finding love. Even though I had never heard from her before, she emailed me to tell me 'thank you' for being a spirit guide of sorts. CRAZY RIGHT!?!?
Because I guess I am a selfish person, I set out to blog purely for me... with zero ulterior motives to help anyone. I'm the worst. This URL was an outlet and a way to keep myself sane when I felt less than. 2010 was the beginning of an upending time for me, so it seems serendipitous that this period also have birth to this blog. Flowers grow from manure... That's just science.
Who knew amid my rants about slutty Halloween costumes and potato chips and parking woes that someone gleaned something helpful and that I could normalize disability in some capacity, even though I am far from a normal human. [Tangent: The idea of being told I inspire someone always has left me with a tremendous icky feeling, usually because it's provoked by nothing and there's absolutely no explanation. Ex: Those "You Go Girl" moments when I am out on the town from drunks on second avenue. Context is crucial. Because I can be a judgemental bitch, people who work too hard to inspire have always warranted eye rolls from me and so I have tried super hard to distance myself from that position. Not 100% why, I guess I just feel you do you, and if it helps people or others take notice then great...that's just icing on the cake of life. It's reminder that you are livin' right, but to set out to do that is laced with expectations and unnecessary pressure, at least to me. I don't want to be chicken soup for your soul. I want to be whiskey for your mind. Is that a good analogy? Probably not...it's probably on par with that puke one I used earlier. . If you have to tell people your goal is to inspire, then its off-putting like a school assembly and doesn't afford you the wiggle room to fuck up occasionally.] The way she presented it didn't make me nervous or uncomfortable or even gross me out, it put some air in me when I was feeling kind of deflated. Again, it was all in her approach/context. I was so glad that I could be a peer to make her feel like she wasn't alone in that boat, plus she seemed rad and compared me to Liz Lemon, so she clearly knew my love language.
I know having badass people in my corner, who 'get it', has made all the difference in helping me through this thing called life. Without being super lame, it put mittens on my black heart to know that I could do that for someone else, even unwittingly. However, if you call me an inspiration, there is still a 45% chance I will punch you in the throat.
So if you read this blog and never leave comments, leave one once in a while so I know you are not a bot! It's fun to hear from real people...even if they are soliciting me for a life partner.