dispatch from the trenches
dispatch from the trenches
i exist, i promise— here’s what I’ve been up to
life’s hectic.
it never ceases to be that way— things move on with or without my attention, so i am here rolling with the punches.
during an impromptu lunch, my partner brings up how everyone around them is just *going* through shit right now. i nod in agreement, and think about how my life really isn’t that bad after all. and then a sharp pang of pain radiates from my lower abdomen. the invisible diagnosis always hovers over my head.
these days,
i think about my pain and reproductive system. they’ve become the main characters, and i’m relegated to a supporting role in my own life story. the way i start to center my life around my disabilities isn’t all bad though: it forces me to slow down and take care of myself. the older i get, the more i understand why my mother used to harp on prioritising my health. she would preach about filling my cup before pouring myself out to others.
“why are you filling up others when you have nothing left for yourself?”
it’s remained my Roman Empire ever since.
my therapist’s experimenting with somatic releasing during our sessions.
she urges me to push the freeze response out of my system, and to audibly exhale all of the tension stored. i wiggle out all the silliness before i lean into her instructions. when she asks me to push the wall in front of me, i do. at some point, i find myself doing makeshift wall push-ups. when i inhale, my arms relax and i’m able to float in the bliss for just a moment. then i exhale, and my arms tense up, pushing all of the stress away.
she asks me to exhale with my voice, no matter how goofy it seems. i face her and yawn, opening up my diaphragm and chest cavity in the process. my pug scrutinises the process, his judgmental wide eyes scanning me for any possible flaw before he returns to grooming himself.
“how did that feel?”, she asks.
“surprisingly good,” i find myself responding, before taking a beat to continue my train of thought.
“but i’m just really exhausted. i’m so tired of having my body keep the score.”
this week i helped a friend out in a housing crisis. they find themselves in a stalemate with a white, rich, Mormon, alcoholic princess who successfully conned her parents into thinking my friend was crazy. despite the fact that she dead-bolting the lock to their shared apartment and passing out from drinks only mere hours before.
nothing frightens me more than the sheer pettiness of rich white people. somehow, i manage to haphazardly assemble a rescue team, and the plan takes shape outside of her apartment building. perhaps in a moment of attempted levity in a dangerous situation— someone pulls out a knife from their backpack and tucks it into their front pocket.
“just in case,” they shrug.
a whole range of possibilities blossoms in my head and I can’t stop laughing.
the ruckus only exacerbates the radiating pelvic pain.
nevertheless, i persist.
it becomes apparent to me that my life must be dedicated to the eradication of capitalism, which is a hallmark of white supremacy. revolution is never swift, so i must attack the problem through a series of epic side quests and adventures. i laugh to myself because this is what my trusted advisors and guides have pointed to all along— i am the facilitator of community care. i have become the guidepost at a crossroads. i am a human rolodex of resources.
care cannot exist in isolation.
yes, there are points during this work where i have to step back because i am drained. my partner reminds me of this when i drop them off at the subway station. while i’m inclined to shrug it off, they’re not wrong. supporting others during crisis means tending to them almost round the clock. you are on-call for support and are unaware of when your next break will be.
this type of work can be vampiric in nature. it sucks every ounce of energy you have and begs you for more. unless your boundaries are firm, this way of life can be unsustainable. my flesh vessel reminds me to tend to my bones, my wounds, my scars.
i hope that the efforts will come back to me tenfold. this is the essence of community care. you give and you hope (despite western individualism) that people will reciprocate when they’re stable.
if you’re enjoying my work, i urge you to please consider a paid subscription. i will be posting every other week, and have a large essay at least once a month.
paid subscribers can gain access to my resource library, which is located on Google drive. I’m looking forward to eventually doing more podcast episodes and introducing more paid content for those who decide to support my work.
as always, I’m attempting to build community through this publication so please let me know if there’s a best way to do that— do you think i should start a discord or WhatsApp community? leave a comment and tell me!