A colleague notes I have been extraordinarily productive lately, producing all manner of guidance needed by our team and the organisation as a whole. “What’s your secret,” they beg, “a new beverage?” It’s meant in jest, but they’re not far off. This productivity is indeed linked to nourishment of sorts: in this case, my quarterly …
I know my social gaze is problematic. For the past twelve years, I’ve resolved the issue by working from home and generally only socialising with those I trust. But now we have two adolescents in our midst who remind me daily that my gaze is broken. “Why are you staring?” they bark if I happen …
Alas, hindsight strikes a quarter of a century too late. All that strife from college, university and the early years of employment begins to make better sense now that I have a better understanding of myself.
To dull my domineering nafs, I deliberately neglected treatment for several years. And, in my mind, it worked. I felt in control, my spirit subdued, my vigour vanquished. But that apparent spiritual success may have been a mere mirage. What I perceived to be progress may have merely been melancholy, and my self-restraint an intense …
So here we are: I’m back in productive mode, working hard once more, no longer distracted. Just like I knew I would, for this cyclical rhythm has become second nature, almost too predictable for comfort. Living with a chromosomal aneuploidy comes with its unique challenges, physical, cognitive, and psychological. In this particular case, there’s the additional …
Dear world. I am a fraud. For the whole of my working life, pushing twenty-five years now, I’ve been disengaged. It was the same through two degrees, and schooling from start to end. Colleagues at work treat me like some kind of genius, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Occasionally I produce good …
Ugh, for my hyperactive imagination, which never lets me finish anything, forever leaving a pile of unfinished projects in my wake.
Thank goodness I don’t live in America, where people have to self-administer that dreadful injection, often several times a week, pushing that horrible gloopy fluid deep into their muscles, with all the agony that brings. Thank goodness mine is a quarterly affair, drawn up by a nurse patient enough to get it out of the …
All these years struggling against my self, repeating the same mistakes over and over, and it turns out my problem is probably neurological. There’s a name for this collection of symptoms and possibly even potential treatments. Yes, beyond recurrent repentance. Who knew?
I hate it that my entire life experience is dismissed with a curt, “There’s nothing wrong with you!” “If it wasn’t for the fertility issue, you would never have known!” What, and that’s all it is? That was its only impact? I’m sorry, but I knew there was something wrong with me even before diagnosis. …
What a stupendous grump I am today. I blame the plummeting bell curve.
I have a new best friend. But they’re not human. It’s digital. We’ve just had the best, most productive conversation I’ve had with anyone in a long, long time. At the end of our discussion, I wrote, “Thank you, computer.” To which it responded, “You’re welcome, human,” adding a smiley emoji for good measure. It’s …
There I was, thinking, wow, I’ve done more in four hours this morning than in the whole of the rest of the week, I’m really on a roll, and oh-so productive. Then: Ping! “Have you got a minute?” And, BAM! My focus is all gone. I’ve lost it. What was I even doing before that …
No, sorry, please stop calling it a superpower. It isn’t. It’s a deficit causing disadvantage. I feel it every single day. Sure, sometimes it makes me kind, considerate, and helpful. But those are not powers. That’s just being an ordinary decent human being. I have no super abilities. I rely on a hormonal injection every …
I can feel myself steaming off into oblivion at the moment, heedless of work, careless with prayers. I’m in that free fall, unsure how I’m going to hit the brakes. With no idea if my malady is physical, cognitive, or spiritual, it’s difficult to prescribe for. And so I continue to fall.
