Elbows
Health reveals itself
I’ve decorated my apartment, and my shirts’ elbows have stopped sprouting holes.
My mental health has steadily improved since I moved to Victoria for employment in January 2024. And, apparently, I don’t subconsciously grind my elbows against my desk anymore.
In February, I stopped seeing my executive function coach. Over four and a half years of training, I had learned, too slowly to notice, how to manage my mundane life, and suddenly the coaching sessions were empty. And I’ve shed my trauma, resolved rather a lot of rage, and stopped blowing up at people. But my coach was most struck by the transformation of my speech patterns. I keep my hyperthymic-autist chatter on rails now, apparently.
It’s been a million things, large and small. My job, my coaching, my shrink, my so very many productivity tools, my friends, every wise word I’ve read, minha namorada querida... and, well, being born into privilege; I’ve used resources I wish everyone had access to. Thank you, Mom and Dad, a million times. This isn’t lost on me, and I try to use my advantages to heal this world to the extent that I can.
After years of working through my problems, my unusual brain and I are genuinely, manifestly OK. I don’t think there’s a way to understand the visceral enormity of that without having lived it. Something as seemingly simple as a well-decorated apartment did not, not, not come easily... and now it’s here.
On my About page, I display a quote from an old and dear friend who helped pull me out of the early depths of my mental illness. I don’t think I ever verbalized my vow to hold those words close forever, or even realized I was making the vow. But I Ctrl-Ced the words out of Facebook Messenger and into a .txt I would open and stare at occasionally for the following years and years of slow, slow, slow, accelerating progress:
The continuous strive to be better. Always working and considering and moving toward betterment. That’s how the most amazing people are made, and no matter what, you’re improving. Don’t ever lose that.
Nearly eight years later, I’m still flawed, and by my reflexes, I’m still keeping the promise.
☺️❣️✨