My Baby Steps to The Moon

Things have been a bit tight lately, and I’ve been chasing every penny to save up for a new pair of glasses, as my vision is getting worse.

Whenever I go to the supermarket, the writing on the labels and price tags looks like ancient runes to me.

I’m thinking a magnifying glass might be a more affordable temporary solution. It would definitely look funny if I whipped it out to check every price, but maybe I can just pretend to be Sherlock Holmes on a case, whether it’s in a supermarket or checking a menu at a restaurant.

Seriously though, I was actually thinking of getting it for my pedicures. You can easily adjust your hands to your sight for a manicure, but you can’t exactly move your feet closer to your eyes!

I’ve even cut myself because it’s become a guessing game, and the trimmings were so bad that my nails snagged the blanket at night.

^{A photo of my four pairs of glasses, none of which are working much for me}

My days are spent on surveys, repeating my age and gender and getting repeatedly rejected before I even find one that pays something.

I’m trying out a few different sites to know which ones are worth the effort, but it’s time-consuming to go through the same screener questions for the same study over and over again. I wish some of them had a better IP detector!

When you’re an unwell and unknown writer unable to work a normal job, you just have to pick up every penny you can.

My eyes have been needing a lot of care, so now I have a whole arsenal of eye drops and eye baths at home, along with nasal sprays and rinses.

I just wish I could spend my pennies on something other than collecting these medical supplies, though on the bright side, my nose has never been so clean!

^{With all these supplies and the rest of my medications, my place is starting to look more like a pharmacy than a home. While the hospital provided the nasal spray, they only gave me a few bottles of saline for the rinse. To keep up, I had to buy the NeilMed brand that my doctor recommended. I just wish they would give me more saline, but I’m too scared to ask for it.}

I’m also trying to get ahead on a few tasks before a series of appointments in July.

I have a follow-up with a general surgeon for my respiratory and digestion issues, as my current GERD problem needs more investigation in areas a regular endoscope can’t reach.

My anxiety makes me want to skip everything and just avoid leaving the house, but the thought of not being able to afford private care later is what keeps me going.

I’ve even bargained with my psychiatrist to manage things without increasing my medication, choosing to overhaul my lifestyle instead. I’m genuinely trying my best with my water intake, sleep hygiene, exercising, and everything else.

The one thing I’m struggling with is consistent one-on-one interaction.

Either I can’t manage the timing, as my friends are on the other side of the world, or I just don’t feel like speaking. I dread the thought of returning to the days where I could go months or even years without interacting with the outside world.

My psychiatrist knew I wasn’t getting the support I needed and wanted to speak to my family — or rather, my partner — to help me get support.

I can’t trust anyone not to pry about my condition. It’s as if every detail that gets leaked is followed by a coincidence consistently involving the same people, and I see a clear pattern.

I know I’m not imagining things, and I know I’m not mad.

Thankfully, my therapist understood exactly what I was talking about. Still, it leaves me feeling even more depressed knowing there’s no one I can truly trust by my side, or anyone who can help if things get worse.

It’s the loneliest feeling in the world.

^{My prep for Yoshida Udon. And before you say anything about the plastic, please know that I recycle these bags for other uses afterward — it’s the only way to fit everything into my tiny fridge!}

To minimize interruptions from my anxiety and the energy drain from my crazy medical schedule (which I pray won’t make me retreat and go off-grid again)— I’ve started meal prepping, usually on Mondays.

It saves me so much time and ensures I get proper meals on days when I’m too weak to cook. It’s a huge help, since my ailments often make me feel like I only have half the time in a day that other people have.

This arrangement is much better than skipping meals, relying on junk food, or having to rely on and beg him to buy me food.

I feel like a doomsday prepper, only my doomsday is the war inside my head.

I was trapped in the middle of it once, and I just don’t want to be unprepared in case it derails everything again.

Since I can no longer pamper myself with things like nice clothes or shoes as I used to when I was working a normal job, I’ve had to adapt.

Now, as a reward for not chickening out of a medical appointment, I treat myself to some of my favorite food and desserts. It’s a small comfort, but it helps me look forward to the next one and get through it.

My undiagnosed pain is getting worse, and with a months-long wait for a blood test at the state clinic.

The pain is maddening — unpredictable and intense. It shifts from a nerve-twisting sensation to a bone-squeezing ache or a sharp sting, and at times, it’s so intense it brings me to tears.

I’m hesitant about taking painkillers. I’ve had bad reactions in the past, including to morphine after surgery, which is why I’d often rather just endure the pain.

Since the doctor mentioned that it could be fibromyalgia, my mind is stuck on a question: if the pain is psychological, how could a painkiller possibly help? I understand how they work for physical pain, but this feels different.

Has anyone else been through this?

^{I’d been putting off studies that required a webcam and headphones for a while, often rejecting them.}

On a brighter note, I recently had my first-ever video study interview!

I was a nervous wreck for days leading up to it and seriously considered canceling. My anxiety only prolonged when the interviewer postponed it.

I was pacing and wondering if I should even take my Lorazepam just to calm down.

On D-Day, I clicked the link just two minutes before the call, only to discover that Google Meet needed me to click more than one button.

Where?! How?! OMG!

I panicked, my mind racing with a single thought:

I really shouldn’t have done this!

Click, click, click…

Minutes passed, and I was still stuck. I was ready to give up right then and there. But I had to remind myself that this was one of the few things I could actually manage. I couldn’t just quit — there would be nothing left for me.

Thankfully, the interviewer was still there when we eventually connected. She suggested we turn off our cameras due to connection issues, which was a huge relief for me.

The rest of the interview went smoothly, even though I was still sweating from the panic.

Not much but I’m so proud of myself for taking another baby step forward. Someday, I’ll reach the moon — if I live long enough.

©Britt H.

Thank you for reading this.

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This post is previously published on my Patreon