Hooray! First World Problems

I know. I'm first-world broke, not third-world. I have basic needs covered and then some-- not just food and water (and coffee), not just electricity and sanitary, not just technology and time to chase dreams. But it did take me three weeks to save up Amazon giftcards, small royalties, and a few bucks I had on my dresser for the $40 I needed to use my laptop, scanner on my printer and make sure I don't starve my fish.

Can't say it doesn't wound me that I don't have a reliable income for working. That I can't brag about being a steady entrepreneur or a successful freelancer, that my contributions are still in infancy even though I'm a workaholic towards my goals. It does suck and it isn't a place that people really relate to (never mind that they also can't claim working 15 years in retail hell like I can). Even though I can say I avoid disability and welfare and only have health insurance (at least until someone butchers healthcare again), I don't pay taxes. Not as fun as you think since my city still requires me to file with my zero taxable income (you have to make at least $3000 a year to be taxed-- I don't come close). I don't even get the excuse of being a housewife, just a caretaker of two young boys. Like a parent but without the legal perks. I'm pretty much an au-pair that is related to my charges. 

While I don't like excuses, I don't have neat little labels. I even brag about how well I avoid them and adapt to what I am without resting on any laurels. I don't even know how to classify my health. While my work is sedentary, two hours of every day is dedicated to brisk walking and I mind my diet (while not restricting that either). When something isn't flaring up, it's good/great. When it's bad, I still want to say average/fair because I've known worse.

On a scale, we're always kind of fucked. There will always be someone who has it better and worse. It's actually possible to be grateful it's not worse but wishing for something better. I once considered myself a liberal because of this variable thinking and in the purest form, I am. However, moderate is what I call it since the far left and right have ruined what it means to be conservative and liberal, even for themselves. I haven't gotten narrow-minded, I'm just less tolerant of thought-policing for some perception of the 'greater good'. I'm not intolerant, just not willing to accommodate the power dynamics of complete strangers. 

As a writer, original pronouns best serve their purpose. Throw on some more adjectives and I'm good, but pronouns don't need more distinctions. Stranger, you are that person over there. First world separations are not being inclusive but creating exclusivity, demands that require people to perform mental and social gymnastics to accommodate you. To someone like me, (and to use one of your stupid fucking words) YOU are an ableist. I can't wrap my literal fucking head around it and it's just NOT useful to anyone.

Of course, I can be a dreadfully passive writer at times to form the general example. (Although 'you' is mistaken for direct, it's one of the subtleties I CAN wrap my head around.) 

People should not support your delusions though and it's something I came to understand when battling my own mental issues. If people had always just waved off my bullshit, supported it, I never would have learned how to confront it. Being completely intolerant was hurtful, but there's a difference between what you put your family and friends through and what you expect from strangers. We, as a society, should understand the presence of mental illness but it is still partially the responsibility of the affected to genuinely attempt to adapt to it themselves, not place that burden solely on the world around them.

I know. First world problems are laughable in comparison. They're still a real aspect of the individual and it's not too much to allow each person some sense of dignity and benefit of the doubt without expecting the world to bend over backwards and kiss your ass. I did not save up $40 the smartest and fastest way possible. But I fucking did it and I'm psyched that small things can feel good too. Easier writing, easier scanning, happy fish. One to three things at a time.

And a happy birthday to my 13-year-old nephew Dameon who changes my life daily and someday may change the world. I'm so proud of him.