Ticket-Illiterate

Dear Readers,

 

It’s been a while since I have last reflected on here – I really thought I could regularly reflect on here but I suppose with my lack of accomplishment in the publishing/illustration world, there isn’t much for me to share. That’s the enigma of this blog, isn’t it?

The truth is, I’ve been on a journey of some self-discovery and self-care. In this time, my motivation for creativity has varied between my usual watercolors, digital illustration, acrylics/mixed media in my iconography, and other things. I’ve even grown an interest in singing and have been working on getting over my severe sense of stage-fright.

About 6 months before getting married, I received my diagnosis of ADHD and have been taking medication for it along with receiving regular therapy since then. It took a little less than half a year to figure out the right dosage and I have to say, it’s been extremely helpful. While I try to remember to take my medication daily, if I happen to sleep in a little bit too long, I do not take it. I think it’s good to take a break from it every now and then anyway and when I go back on it, it’s easy to realize just how useful it really is.

Less than 6 months before that, I ended up with tendinitis in both of my elbows and back issues I went to see a chiropractor for, but other than that, I did not receive treatment or do physical therapy for my arms. The tendinitis would flare up off and on for the next few years until early this year, the year of our Lord 2023, I tried picking up piano-playing again and I guess I overdid it. That’s one of my ADHD problems… is not knowing when to stop. That’s why I got elbow tendinitis in the first place as well. I held a baby for far too long and then the following day aggressively drew comics for hours.

Anyway, because I overdid the piano-playing, my tendinitis flared up and it did not go away. I tried doing exercises/stretches that I looked up online to help but I could not keep to it consistently and ended up making it worse. By the time May rolled around, I was in chronic pain. Towards the end of May, I noticed the tops of my hands were feeling a little bit numb. It only lasted for a few minutes, but it was enough of a scare for me to call my current chiropractor to get a prescription for physical therapy. (I fractured my tailbone in July 2022 so I had to find a new chiropractor).

I have been doing physical therapy for over 12 weeks now, started swimming at least once a week, and have been getting stronger! However, for some reason, my left arm felt like it was getting worse and new kinds of pain were arising. My left elbow would catch/click, I started getting severe needle-like pain inside my elbow at random, etc. Even my left shoulder was in severe pain at some point, and while it chronically aches probably due to me sleeping on it strangely, my physical therapist determined it is not the cause of my arm pain.

I made an appointment with the orthopedist who took an x-ray of my left elbow and found nothing. He prescribed me an MRI, but insurance did not approve. Trying to appeal the MRI took weeks and I ended up failing because of the lack of proper instruction. I was feeling rather hopeless.

A couple of weeks ago though, my right arm/hand was starting to feel numb, and then the following week my left arm followed suit (after having experiencing a lot of jolting/needle like pain up and down my arm on a daily basis). I made another appointment with the orthopedist about both of my arms and now I’m scheduled to receive an ERM.

So for the past 6 months or so, it has been challenging to work on my creative work – whether it be writing or artwork. It has had me feeling quite defeated. I’m only 29 years old. The cantor of our parish just had a tunnel surgery on her arm and she’s in her 50s – that’s “normal” for someone her age and profession (she’s a dental hygienist). I’m almost 30; I’m at the point where I want to start a family but have to put it on hold because I might need surgery… but that keeps getting delayed because of how the process of getting a diagnosis is… with doctors, insurance, and lack of communication. I’ve spent several moments in tears because there is so little I can do about it.

Thankfully, typing on my laptop really isn’t that bad on my arms. That tells me it’s not really the carpal tunnel that’s the issue, but it is pretty obvious that it’s the radial and ulnar nerves that are problematic.

So perhaps I should focus more on my writing rather than my illustration – I don’t know. I have several craft fairs coming up that I am looking forward to attending, but not everything is entirely prepared. I still need to finish several icons. I have a lot to do and I can only handle doing a little each day. That is the life of a creative suffering from chronic pain.

Something my PT wondered was if my orthopedist asked for a blood test because there are autoimmune disorders that cause nerve pain. He came to the conclusion that it was unlikely, but I told him it’s a valid concern since I am a carrier of a rare genetic disorder that includes autoimmune disorders but it’s still unlikely, since carriers of WAS have a 0.99% chance of showing symptoms of WAS. There is not much research on it though, so the possibility remains.

Anyway—

I have been going through a lot and have been trying my best to not let it get to me. At the very least, I work part-time at a job where I feel safe and I do not dread going to, everyone is very kind there and easy to get along with. It’s been about a year and a half since I left my toxic workplace, and about a year since I left my second toxic workplace (aka, the public library). Additionally, a few weeks ago I made the decision to give up teaching individual art lessons with special needs adults since all of my students dropped me for the summer and for the future I just don’t think I’ll be able to manage it. I need to focus on my health and the lesson coordinating/scheduling is a bit unpredictable so it will be a lot less stressful on me without them. I miss my students a little, but at the same time, I was never truly qualified for the job, so I think my decision to end things with that was for the best. 

 I have been reading a lot of webcomics and have been thinking a lot about the stories I would like to write in the meantime. For a while here and there I was doing a decent job at developing my “Midwestern Gothic” story, as well as working on my longest fanfiction I have ever written. I’m still doing that, but at a far slower pace. I would like to continue with my creative writing so here and there I have even written a few poems, which I haven’t done really since high school or college, so that was nice. It was a good reminder for me that I enjoy writing, even if it’s impressive. It’s one of those things, like singing, that I want to be okay with not being talented at. I’d like to think I am talented at writing, but still, poems and songs are of a different caliber, you know? I reread some of my older works and was immediately filled with cringe. 

^Characters from my "Midwestern Gothic" story.

 

On that note, here is the most recent, more or less completed, poem I have written:

 

At the Crossing

 

Caught between passing trains

The clinging breeze rushes past my face

Leaving me at the crossing

With a cross I don’t know how to carry

 

I’m not sure if my dream died

Or if it was ever a dream at all

I’m not sure if my dreams could be sleeping

Or if they’re trapped in my middle school

 

I’m not sure what it is I long for

But I know I’m longing for a dream

I’m longing to understand everything in between

And the people outside of me.

 

The passengers and their destinations

The stops and the skips

I’ve been pacing on this platform

Because I’m ticket-illiterate

 

What am I losing if I wait

What am I gaining if I procrastinate

What will I regret if I take the next train

What if my dreams aren’t the same

 

I’m not sure what I’m waiting for

Maybe I’m waiting just to see

I think I’m paralyzed by the dreams

Of the people outside of me.

 

I have this box I never exactly threw away

The lid is tightly shut

Encrusted by age and decay

I’m not sure if my dream died

Or if it’s just waiting inside

 

I’m not sure what it is I’m hoping for

But I know I hope to dream

I hope to embrace my uncertainty

And the mysteries inside of me.

 

I’m standing at this crossing

With a box I’m cradling close to me

A box I buried that followed me

Maybe my dream didn’t abandon me

 

 

 

I will end things here – but let me know what you think of my poem, you can be honest.

Until next time!