![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Week 37, Entry 4
Feb. 1st, 2023 03:44 pmMy feet are recovering at the exact rate they are expected to. Which is annoying, of course, because you can't speed healing along. I am frustrated, and I am trying to determine what to do about it.
I do not currently have a job. I am useful in many ways around the house, able to clean and carry and keep up with medical necessities, but as I cannot include recommendations from family members, and there is no acknowledgement of my skills on paper, this doesn't count.
I can't tell if I'm lazy or confused or disabled, or what I am. I feel useful when I am out of my room, and useless when I am inside it. It is a dark room, which might be part of the reason why. Or just that I hate the idea of staying in my room, playing on the computer and receiving disability checks until some unknown date, and it is difficult to imagine a better future.
I've been thinking of going off my meds, or cutting back. I haven't tried yet, though. My thought process is as follows:
1) The biggest drag on my moving out is being disabled. Not a lot of psychiatrists, where I want to go and where I can afford. And you can't move to Wales, or any place in the North Atlantic Isles, if you are disabled -- they won't let you in the country.
2) If I was not on meds, then I would not have any appearance of disability, beyond a level of autism when speaking/moving that is noticeable but not impossible to deal with.
December was rough, but I didn't get have a relapse all through January, which seems like a good sign. If I can also work on keeping my primary and secondary vision separated, then I might be able to function normally enough to have a proper job, to make money, to have my own place, to be properly grown up.
I do not currently have a job. I am useful in many ways around the house, able to clean and carry and keep up with medical necessities, but as I cannot include recommendations from family members, and there is no acknowledgement of my skills on paper, this doesn't count.
I can't tell if I'm lazy or confused or disabled, or what I am. I feel useful when I am out of my room, and useless when I am inside it. It is a dark room, which might be part of the reason why. Or just that I hate the idea of staying in my room, playing on the computer and receiving disability checks until some unknown date, and it is difficult to imagine a better future.
I've been thinking of going off my meds, or cutting back. I haven't tried yet, though. My thought process is as follows:
1) The biggest drag on my moving out is being disabled. Not a lot of psychiatrists, where I want to go and where I can afford. And you can't move to Wales, or any place in the North Atlantic Isles, if you are disabled -- they won't let you in the country.
2) If I was not on meds, then I would not have any appearance of disability, beyond a level of autism when speaking/moving that is noticeable but not impossible to deal with.
December was rough, but I didn't get have a relapse all through January, which seems like a good sign. If I can also work on keeping my primary and secondary vision separated, then I might be able to function normally enough to have a proper job, to make money, to have my own place, to be properly grown up.
