Friday Five 17th Jan
17 Jan 2025 11:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elisheva_m1. Ten years ago, what did you think you would be doing now?
2013 was hysterectomy and the discovery of severe endometriosis. 2014 was continuing recovery once my body was no longer in a quasi-autoimmune battle to get rid of the endometriosal tissue and rebuilding some fitness and community. Being able to manage two outings a week maybe 2/3rds of the time (albeit with a full week of rest once a month) was such a marked improvement for me. They were a yoga class and a lunch gathering at a community cafe run by a women's group at a local church and really helping with both physical and mental health. Was getting to the point where some small volunteer work seemed like it might be feasible eventually. Something like sorting in the back room at a nearby charity shop which would allow flexibility with scheduling so I could go on my ok-er days and rest when my body needed to.
That was the trajectory my life was on ten years ago. I didn't know how much more improvement was possible, but what I had seemed sustainable.
Starting in December 2014, I was forced, under threat of losing ALL benefits for up to 3 years, to go against all medical advice for my chronic illnesses (pacing, pacing, pacing) and attend a weekly and then twice-weekly "back to work" programme on the other side of the city (two buses and a walk each way) for an entire year. We were allowed to miss at most four sessions per year. The Tory government in Westminster was in another one of their periodic fits of deciding they know better than everyone else how to coerce those not in work into work.
My group included a 64 year old man with cancer hoping to reach retirement age in a year, someone with depression and not much English, a woman who'd been in jail and was trying to make a new life (I really hope she's succeeded), tradesworkers with injuries, someone on methadone (who was very upfront and clear about the effects his daily dose, which he could only get at a certain time, would have on his ability to sit still and that he needed afternoon sessions), another actively alcoholic, and me, who would sometimes end up leading the class because the ever-changing cast of instructors were so inexperienced. We needed specialised rehab services, not power point lectures on the importance of checking spelling in a job application.
So ten years ago, I was at the beginning of one of the very worst years of my life, one which stole all possibility of some degree of recovery for absolutely zero reason beyond pointless Tory cruelty. But in January 2015, I didn't yet know how bad it was going to be.
2. Where do you think you will be five years from now?
The only realistic outlook given the overall situation - five years further along this decline, even more isolated and struggling to care for myself, but probably still falling between all the cracks to qualify for care. It's my misfortune to live amongst those who expect someone else will help out.
3. Do you live life one day at a time or look to the future?
One day a time. It's the only way to get through this without losing my mind completely. I can think in terms of "I can get through five more years of this", but say 10 or please no 20? The thought is unbearable.
4. Do you wish you could go back in time and undo something in your life?
Of course. The list is VERY long indeed.
5. If you could send a message back in time and give a younger version of yourself some advice, what would it be?
Prioritise getting yourself into a pleasant, comfortable and sociable place to live over *everything* else.
2013 was hysterectomy and the discovery of severe endometriosis. 2014 was continuing recovery once my body was no longer in a quasi-autoimmune battle to get rid of the endometriosal tissue and rebuilding some fitness and community. Being able to manage two outings a week maybe 2/3rds of the time (albeit with a full week of rest once a month) was such a marked improvement for me. They were a yoga class and a lunch gathering at a community cafe run by a women's group at a local church and really helping with both physical and mental health. Was getting to the point where some small volunteer work seemed like it might be feasible eventually. Something like sorting in the back room at a nearby charity shop which would allow flexibility with scheduling so I could go on my ok-er days and rest when my body needed to.
That was the trajectory my life was on ten years ago. I didn't know how much more improvement was possible, but what I had seemed sustainable.
Starting in December 2014, I was forced, under threat of losing ALL benefits for up to 3 years, to go against all medical advice for my chronic illnesses (pacing, pacing, pacing) and attend a weekly and then twice-weekly "back to work" programme on the other side of the city (two buses and a walk each way) for an entire year. We were allowed to miss at most four sessions per year. The Tory government in Westminster was in another one of their periodic fits of deciding they know better than everyone else how to coerce those not in work into work.
My group included a 64 year old man with cancer hoping to reach retirement age in a year, someone with depression and not much English, a woman who'd been in jail and was trying to make a new life (I really hope she's succeeded), tradesworkers with injuries, someone on methadone (who was very upfront and clear about the effects his daily dose, which he could only get at a certain time, would have on his ability to sit still and that he needed afternoon sessions), another actively alcoholic, and me, who would sometimes end up leading the class because the ever-changing cast of instructors were so inexperienced. We needed specialised rehab services, not power point lectures on the importance of checking spelling in a job application.
So ten years ago, I was at the beginning of one of the very worst years of my life, one which stole all possibility of some degree of recovery for absolutely zero reason beyond pointless Tory cruelty. But in January 2015, I didn't yet know how bad it was going to be.
2. Where do you think you will be five years from now?
The only realistic outlook given the overall situation - five years further along this decline, even more isolated and struggling to care for myself, but probably still falling between all the cracks to qualify for care. It's my misfortune to live amongst those who expect someone else will help out.
3. Do you live life one day at a time or look to the future?
One day a time. It's the only way to get through this without losing my mind completely. I can think in terms of "I can get through five more years of this", but say 10 or please no 20? The thought is unbearable.
4. Do you wish you could go back in time and undo something in your life?
Of course. The list is VERY long indeed.
5. If you could send a message back in time and give a younger version of yourself some advice, what would it be?
Prioritise getting yourself into a pleasant, comfortable and sociable place to live over *everything* else.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-17 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-01-20 10:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-01-17 07:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-01-18 10:04 am (UTC)