Incognito Time

This afternoon after accidentally sleeping 10 hours (with a 5-15 minute break to feed my bunny and check on Mom) I soon came to realize that I’ve lost huge chunks of time in my memory recently and honestly this has been happening for months probably since November, maybe even longer.

I woke up to a discord message from a friend that might have been what woke me, an alert about a voicemail from my care coordinator whose efforts haven’t brought any help to avoid this looming eviction and a text from my bank about a Stripe deposit of $4.48 to my account.

Yesterday marked two years of living without Dalilah, my previous emotional support bunny. Last year I was still in severe emotional pain from not having her in my life anymore quietly weeping every few weeks or days wishing she were here with me, wishing she could have had a bunny friend like I had planned, heartbroken that my new emotional support bunny won’t get to have a friend either.

This year I’ve been drowning in survival mode just living moment by moment and when I gathered the strength to call my care coordinator just knowing no good news would come from the voicemail she left. Just tiny reminders that I’m mostly an afterthought on the minds of many; I’m frozen knowing the society I live in won’t bring me any relief, knowing I’ve barely been able to think much less look for normie work that I might not even have the capacity to do.

Since February the anniversary of Dalilah’s passing has come to mind here and there. My emotions in general have been elusive not knowing if I’m numb, overwhelmed or just not feeling anything at all so when I didn’t come apart at the seams the way I have in the past I was concerned. Sometimes everything is so much that I have to set it aside and deny it just to make sure I eat, groom and function day to day and more so I have to triple that to make sure I can do those e things for my mom and my bunny.

No matter what I’m consistently feeling shame and guilt. Any second of time that I spend to do anything that isn’t “work” I feel ashamed. It doesn’t matter if I’m self advocating by asking for commissions and mutual aid to do the work I can do even while my cognitive functions are low. It doesn’t matter that I try to write blogs like this or share stories elsewhere to raise awareness of life with CPTSD, life as a trauma survivor, life as a disabled Latina woman. I constantly feel like I’m useless, worthless, lazy, stupid and like I deserve to die.

I push myself to do what I can while it feels painful because my mom and my bunny didn’t ask to have me as their caretaker. In my mind and heart they’re innocent bystanders, casualties to my weakness. If it were anyone else in my situation I would have endless compassion, I would go out of my way even to my own detriment to help and while I think about that to try and give myself grace and compassion I end up feeling I’m not worth that effort for anyone else.

The obnoxious thing is that when I have care in any form the few people who go out their way to help me I feel awful. I don’t want help, I deeply distrust people, I’m waiting for the other suoe to drop, I’m waiting to be abandoned again, I’m waiting to be led into a trap, I’m waiting for them to get fed up with helping me and I’m waiting for them to feel used and abused by me. Whether it’s a friend who listens when I am able to talk about even a sliver of what I’m fighting daily, whether it’s a friend who takes hours out of their off time to help me deal with things far beyond my skill set, whether it’s a friend making calls I can’t make, whether it’s a friend sharing my mutual aid posts, whether it’s a friend boosting my hoots on Mastodon – burden echoes through my mind.

I would tell anyone they’re not a burden, that we all have strengths and weaknesses, that we humans are animals who function best in communities, that each life in this universe has value and worth and beauty and life even my bunny who just eats and poops and licks my knees for attention. Does my bunny have a job? Does my bunny feel like too much? Does my bunny suck my life away?

No, my bunny brings me joy and peace and connection.

Continually I feel like I have nothing to offer those closest to me. I would never ask for reassurance because of the shame I’ve had in my past when I tried to ask for reassurance. Why would anyone want to spend time with me, spend energy to keep me alive, spend resources to make things like this blog or my music or my art possible at all?

It takes every ounce of my energy to keep all these threads of pain and defense balanced as my condition which brought me safety in the past is what’s making everything harder to manage in this financial crisis.

“Your light and voice matter” is what I would say to any of those friends who are in my life. I struggle when my fears tear them apart in my mind and I just seclude myself frozen in time.

I didn’t know while I was fully aware – of the anniversary of Dalilah’s passing was approaching. I forgot about stupid websites and government agencies with which I had to follow up, I remembered my car insurance will automatically withdraw from my bank account on the 15th and I don’t have the means to cover it…

Last year I went out of my way to promote a fundraiser for a bunny rescue in Dalilah’s honor, I sat alone and a few people donated. This year I threw something together at the last moment and barely told anyone, one friend was there to hear my music and threw little emotes in the chat of my music stream. Everyday I know exactly what day it is but no idea how much time has passed.

Dissociating is fun…

In the past I’ve shamed myself for “not promoting enough” when things like this happen but honestly no matter the amount of effort I put in my reach doesn’t change. The times things have been different have been when others help me share. I always say how much community care can make a difference. Whether it’s 100 people sharing $1, 1 piece of creation, 1 moment the impact of our lives grows exponentially when do what’s within our means to uplift one another, one voice echoes another one drop at a time.

Many of my friends have felt powerless in the past, that’s why I wrote the song “Ripple Effect.” I know the feeling as I’ve lived through many set backs and many heartaches some which have lead to my mental health issues. As much as I struggle to trust others I know that alone I do less than with a community. I reach out fearfully, I reach out in hopes for growth and change one moment at a time. I know I won’t wake up tomorrow to a utopia and the suffering in the world might get worse before it gets better but if I sit and do nothing or if I sit and only focus on myself I can’t have peace. Yes, I need to keep myself fed, yes I need to keep a home to do this but my work has never been just for myself. It goes against my very being to say anything is all about me. I know my therapist worries that I don’t value myself enough and yes I have deep rooted lies that make everything harder but it matters to me.

Never forget you’re wonderful and beautiful and so essential to all of us. Even if you’re under immense pain and weight I see you, I hear you, I’m here with you, even if I will never “know you” we are all connected and your life is needed. Stay with us, hold on, fight.

Wishing you love 💚 and peace 🐇 always.

If you got anything from my writing please consider tipping me or becoming a Bun Supporter by subscribing to support me monthly through my Ko-Fi page. I also have commissions open for all sorts of work to support your goals. I’m a disabled multidisciplinary artist and full-time caretaker for my elderly mother. If you cannot support financially sharing my content goes a long way to help me connect to others who need my work or would like to support small independent artist and small businesses as well.

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