Tag: #SpoonieStruggles

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7 Small Wins That Totally Count as Achievements in The Holiday Season

JoLeave a comment

Listen… December is basically the season finale of the year, and my brain is running on whatever scraps of battery life it can find between the couch cushions. So instead of pretending I’m a fully optimized human being, I’m embracing the tiny victories — the ones that actually count.

Because if December can be dramatic?
I can be delusional in a way that helps my self-esteem.

We all know (and we’ve talked about) December is an energy zapper so here are 7 small wins that absolutely deserve applause, confetti, or at least a slow clap from someone who isn’t judging your life choices:

1. Getting dressed in something that isn’t your “I Give Up” sweatpants

Bonus points if the outfit has textures like velvet and lace, because then you’re basically cosplaying as an enchanted woodland witch who is absolutely doing her best. I’m a cross between Stevie Nicks and a victorian ghost as far as style goes. I want people to see me and feel the energy shift because I am all about delivering the good vibes.

2. Remembering one (1) single appointment

In December? That’s Nobel Prize-level discipline. Congratulations on defeating the Calendar Boss. The other appointments are jealous but hey, you crushed that lunch date.

3. Feeding yourself something other than peppermint bark

Double win if it was an actual meal. Triple win if you didn’t eat it standing in the kitchen like a tired Victorian ghost. I want people to know I am absolutely not going to be a quiet ghost. No slipping in or out of places unnoticed. I’m going to be LOUD, think of my entrances and exits to resemble Kramer’s from Seinfeld.

4. Wrapping at least one gift without crying

Or using a gift bag instead of trying to precision-fold paper like Martha Stewart with a migraine. Embrace the bag. The bag is your friend. I havent wrapped a gift in forever, the muscle memory is gone.

5. Making it through a school concert, holiday party, or work event

Even if your soul left your body three minutes in, you showed up. Gold star. I make disassociating an Olympics level sport. If you see me at an event, think of that as a premeeting and I’ll be asking all my follow up questions when I see you next and might lag on a convo or two while my brain is processing.

6. Saying “no” to something your body and brain didn’t have the spoons for

This is Advanced Seasonal Adulting™. Look at you, protecting your peace like a tiny holiday dragon guarding its hoard. I will protect my peace, because I have to listen to me when everything is quiet.

7. Remembering joy is allowed to be small right now

A quiet night. A cup of cocoa. A silly ornament. Five minutes under a blanket with the lights off. Its unreal how long I could sit and watch the tree change color while memories play like a slideshow in my head.
Tiny joy counts — especially when December tries to steamroll you.

If you’ve done even one of these things?
You’re winning. Seriously. December doesn’t want us to succeed, and yet here we are — thriving at a very reasonable, spoon-conscious pace. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other. Holiday greetings from George!)

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Pain Flare Types, Ranked From “Mild Nuisance” to “Summon the Ancestors”

JoLeave a comment

Let’s be honest: pain flares deserve their own tier list.
Not all suffering is created equal. Some flares are just a polite tap on the shoulder and others feel like they’ve traveled across lifetimes to personally drag you into the void.

So in the spirit of scientific accuracy (and by scientific accuracy, I mean vibes), here’s the ultimate ranking:

1️⃣ The Tiny Gremlin Twinge — A Mild Nuisance

This one pops up like, “Hey girl, just checking in!”
It’s annoying, but you can still function… mostly. You limp a little, grab a heating pad just in case, and pretend it’s fine.
It’s never fine — but we lie to ourselves anyway.

2️⃣ The Low-Battery Huff — You’ll Feel This Tomorrow

Your body starts sending strongly worded emails.
It’s not enough to stop you, but everything feels… heavier. Slow. Foggy.
You start rationing spoons like you’re preparing for a winter on the Oregon Trail.

3️⃣ The Surprise Stab — The “Who Threw That?” Pain

Sudden. Sharp. Personal.
Like your muscles decided to reenact a crime scene with no warning.
You freeze, gasp, and immediately question every life decision that led you here.

4️⃣ The Weather Channel Special — Barometric Betrayal

You wake up and instantly know a storm is coming.
Your joints creak like a haunted staircase. Your spine predicts humidity better than any meteorologist.
Honestly, you deserve a salary for this accuracy.

5️⃣ The Sensory Riot — Everything Hurts and Also Everything Is Loud

Pain spike + fibro fog + sensory overload = a cursed smoothie.
Clothes? Too much. Lights? Too bright. Air molecules? Too aggressive.
You consider relocating to a dark, soft cave forever.

6️⃣ The “Cancel All Plans” Episode — Nope. Absolutely Not.

The flare that turns your day into a hostage situation.
Suddenly every joint is negotiating its own peace treaty.
Even sitting still is exhausting. Being alive? Optional.

7️⃣ The Full-Body Betrayal — Your Skeleton Has Filed for Divorce

It spreads. It radiates. It’s everywhere at once.
Nothing helps. No position is comfortable. You do that weird slow shuffle walk that looks like your bones are taped in.
Heating pads, meds, and prayers to whoever will listen.

8️⃣ The “Summon the Ancestors” Flare — You Have Exited This Plane

Oh, this one?
You can feel your DNA screaming.
Pain so intense it becomes almost spiritual. You’re like, “I see the veil… it’s thin… tell MawMaw I’m coming…”
You contemplate your will, your life choices, and whether reincarnation offers better warranty coverage.

Final Thought

Pain flares are rude, unpredictable, and truly lack professionalism.
But calling them out? Naming them? Ranking them like Pokémon?
Sometimes that’s how we cope — with humor, honesty, and a little dramatic flair. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.

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Things My Brain Treats Like Optional DLC

JoLeave a comment

Living with Chronic Illness is basically like living with a brain that’s trying its best… but also doing parkour off the furniture. Some days I’m thriving, some days I’m forgetting what I’m doing mid-sentence, and honestly? Most days I’m just negotiating with my own executive function like it’s a hostile coworker. So here’s a little peek behind the curtain: the things my brain treats like optional DLC.

1. Object permanence… most of the time.
If I put it down and walk away, it may as well have been launched into another dimension. Keys, water bottles, important documents — all living their best lives in the ADHD void. Tell me its important, its the surefire way to get me to lose it.

2. Starting tasks? Easy. Finishing them? Bold of you to assume.
I will begin a project with Olympic enthusiasm and then abandon it halfway like a Victorian ghost girl drifting out of a scene. Don’t believe me? My craft desk is currently auditioning for a documentary called ‘When Hobbies Attack.’ Pearls would be clutched. Fainting couches would be used.

3. Time? A concept. A myth. A prank.
Ten minutes feels like an hour, an hour feels like twelve seconds, and deadlines feel like cosmic jokes written specifically for me. I need to get up, says my brain, the laundry should be done. Sure, its done, as is the day, the entire day slipped through my grasp like time itself saw me trying and said, ‘Aw, cute,’ before sprinting off.

4. Noise? Too much. Silence? Also too much.
I am either overstimulated by the faint hum of the fridge or suddenly panicking because the quiet feels suspicious. There is no chill setting. I generally leave the tv on and use the mute button, sometimes I even remember to unmute or unpause (go me)

5. Hyperfocus that appears only for hobbies, never chores.
Ask me to reorganize a shelf for fun? Instant productivity demon. Ask me to fold laundry? My brain blue screens. Meanwhile the laundry is over there quietly becoming part of the home’s structural integrity.

6. Forgetting why I opened a new tab mid-click.
My fingers click “new tab” with confidence. My brain immediately abandons the mission. We will never know what the goal was. This is the thing I hate the most. Yesterday I was at hubby’s desk and he was saying something and I said ‘I’ll go look that up’ and I turned and FELT myself forgetting it, I hadnt made it to the door when I had to turn back around and apologized and asked him to repeat himself.

7. Needing a reward just to take a shower like it’s a game quest.
“+10 XP for personal hygiene. New achievement unlocked: You Finally Did It.”
Honestly, adulting would be easier if life came with a loot box. Honestly, the only thing getting me in that shower is the promise of pajamas immediately after. The shower helps most days its just the act of doing all the things is exhausting.

8. “I’ll do it in a minute” — famous last words.
Because that “minute” might be five hours later… or three to five business days, depending on vibes and moon phases. And if a kid interrupts me? Congratulations, that task has now been postponed indefinitely.

Sure, my brain is a gremlin on roller skates, but honestly? I’m still waking up and doing my best every day. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.

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🧩 11 Things I’ve Accepted I’ll Never Have Together (And That’s Okay)

JoLeave a comment

There comes a point in every adult’s life where you stop chasing perfection and just start chasing peace.
Mine came somewhere between my third “lost laundry sock” breakdown and realizing that meal planning for the week doesn’t make my brain any less chaotic.

So here are 10 things I’ve fully accepted I’ll never have together — and honestly, I’m fine with it.

1. My Sleep Schedule

Some nights I’m out cold by 9. Other nights, I’m rearranging my thoughts (and furniture) at 2 a.m. Balance? Never met her. My problems are in those wee hours of the morning but my issues are waking up no later than 4, even if I dont fall asleep til 3. Its maddening.

2. Laundry

There’s clean, there’s dirty, and there’s “on that chair I swear I’ll fold tomorrow.”
Spoiler: tomorrow’s been rescheduled indefinitely.

3. My Phone Storage

I can delete exactly 400 screenshots and still have “not enough space.” I think the memes multiply when I’m not looking.

4. Matching Socks

At this point, I’m calling it fashion. If my socks are both clean, that’s a win.

5. My Inbox

Some people zero out their email every night. I zero out emotionally about my email every night.

6. That One Junk Drawer

It’s basically a time capsule for expired batteries and mystery cords from 2008.

7. My Brain’s Tabs

They’re all open. None of them are loading. I’ve accepted it’s just part of my operating system.

8. My To-Do List

For every item I cross off, three new ones appear like hydra heads. Productivity is a myth perpetuated by people with working serotonin.

9. My Diet

Sometimes it’s vegetables and lean protein.
Sometimes it’s cold pizza and vibes.
It’s called balance, baby.

10. The Idea of “Having It Together”

Turns out, nobody does. Some just accessorize their chaos better.
So here’s to letting go, laughing at the mess, and knowing that imperfect is still enough.

11. My Posting Schedule

I love sharing my thoughts and connecting with my community — but some days, the mental energy just isn’t there.
And that’s okay.
Skipping a post doesn’t mean I’m lazy or unreliable; it means I’m human. listicles are just easier to do when your brain wont shut up enough to do any research or even just have the mental capacity for boring depressive stuff. I’m trying to keep it up beat and hold it all together. Sometimes “taking care of business” looks like closing the laptop, eating something carb-loaded, and giving my brain a breather.

💭 Final Thought:

You don’t have to fix everything to be doing okay.
Sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is stop fighting the tide and just float for a bit.Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.

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10 Times I Should’ve Trusted My Gut

JoLeave a comment

Let’s talk about intuition.
That little voice in your head that says, “Maybe don’t send that text,” or “You don’t actually need to reorganize your pantry at 2 a.m.” For people with Bipolar sometimes that voice gives conflicting advice

Mine’s been screaming for years, but I usually answer with, “Shh, I’m busy ignoring you while doing exactly what you told me not to.”

So, here’s a list of ten times I absolutely should’ve listened to my gut — and how my new pendulum board helps me keep my chaos at least moderately guided now.

1. When I Thought “One More Load of Laundry” Was Harmless

My back disagreed. My spoons evaporated. Should’ve trusted the gut that said, “Sit down, you maniac” and not got back up repeatedly.

2. When I Answered That Text From My Ex

Intuition: “Don’t.”
Me: “Maybe he’s changed!”
Spoiler: He had not.

3. When I Said “Sure, I Can Handle That Project”

What I meant was: “I will spiral into a stress coma and regret everything.” Not sure if thats any illness talking I think we all over promise sometimes, even to ourselves lol.

4. When I Ignored the Weird Rattle in My Car

Turns out the “ghost” was a very real, very expensive muffler issue. Of all the times my gut cost me, this was an EXTRA pricey one lol.
Gut: 1. Me: $600.

5. When I Thought I Could Skip My Meds “Just for a Day”

LOL. Never again. My brain chemistry is not DIY-friendly. Most of them arent shy about telling me I forgot them either. Not just for a day, not even just for an afternoon lol.

6. When I Tried To Explain My Chronic Illness to a Facebook Comment Section

Intuition said log off.
Ego said educate.
Result: chaos and regret.

Lately, I’ve been using this pendulum board I made — not as some mystical fortune-teller thing, but as a quick way to ground myself. Watching it swing back and forth slows my thoughts down enough to actually hear what my gut’s saying.

7. When I Said “It’s Just a Little Pain”

…and three days later I’m Googling “can you die from ignoring your body?”

8. When I Thought “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead” Was a Vibe

SO MANY people say this! Turns out it’s… not great health advice.

9. When I Ordered the Giant Craft Supply Haul “For Business Purposes”

I mean, it was technically business-related. Just… maybe not this month’s business. Maybe I wanted to not be rude, gotta get something for everybody!

10. When I Ignored My Gut About Taking a Break


(aka any time I have been up out of my chair for over 5 minutes)

Every time I push through instead of pausing, my body yells louder next time.
Now I ask my pendulum, and if it swings toward “Sit down,” I listen.
(Okay, fine, I try to listen.)

🌙 Moral of the Story: Trust Yourself, Babe.

Intuition isn’t mystical nonsense—it’s your nervous system whispering what it already knows.
The pendulum just helps quiet the noise long enough for you to actually hear it.

If you want a gentle nudge toward trusting yourself again (or just something gorgeous and witchy for your nightstand), my new 3D-printed Pendulum Board Kit is going to be perfect for you.
It includes:

  • A black + purple board engraved with intuitive answers
  • A matching pendulum
  • A mini guide for using it (with question prompts!) I can make custom ones with special colors.
    Coming to you in the next few days, keep an eye out for it

✨ Perfect for the overthinker who’s spiritually curious but still skeptical (hi, it’s me). Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and eachother!

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💊 When Your Body Stages a Coup: Surviving Withdrawal from Your Legally Prescribed Meds

JoLeave a comment

So picture this: you’re minding your business, taking your meds like a responsible adult, when suddenly—boom.
Pharmacy delay. Doctor out of town. Prior authorization “pending.” Ah the setback of psych meds.
And your nervous system? It’s like, “Cool cool cool… let’s panic about everything now.”

Let’s be clear right out of the gate:
This isn’t addiction.
This is what happens when your body gets used to something your doctor prescribed, and then it disappears faster than your motivation on a Monday.

For people managing chronic pain, ADHD, bipolar disorder, fibromyalgia, anxiety—basically anything that makes life feel like juggling flaming swords—missing meds can wreck your whole week. Sometimes your whole month. It used to be pain meds were controlled, well I got off all them and then I find out one of my meds for my mental state is controlled too.

So here’s the practical, not-patronizing guide to surviving it.

🧠 1. Know What’s Happening — It’s Not “Just in Your Head”

Your body doesn’t care that you’re being responsible. It just knows chemistry changed.
Withdrawal from meds like antidepressants, or mood stabilizers can cause:

  • Flu-like symptoms (the fever, chills, and “oh God, why” kind)
  • Dizziness or brain zaps
  • Stomach chaos (you know what I mean)
  • Anxiety that feels like being trapped in your own skin
  • Crying at car insurance commercials

You’re not crazy, dramatic, or weak. You’re literally detoxing from a medication your body depended on.

🩺 2. Call the Pharmacy and Doctor — Every. Single. Day.

Yes, it’s annoying. Yes, they hate it. Do it anyway.
Sometimes the squeaky wheel really does get the refill.

Ask for:

  • A partial fill (even a few days’ worth helps)
  • Generic or alternative options
  • If your doctor can bridge it with samples or a similar med

If you can’t get through to your doctor, ask to speak to the nurse or pharmacist directly—they can often light a fire under the process faster than anyone else.

🧘‍♀️ 3. Temporary Coping Tools (That Actually Help)

You can’t cure withdrawal, but you can soften the edges.
Try:

  • Hydration like it’s your job. Electrolytes help your body flush junk out faster.
  • Protein and complex carbs. Blood sugar swings make symptoms worse.
  • Body temp tricks: cool showers for feverish restlessness, warm baths for muscle tension.
  • Magnesium and vitamin B supplements (if cleared by your doc).
  • Ginger tea or mints for nausea.
  • Noise + comfort TV. Distract your brain from itself. (“SVU’ or ‘Chicago’ shows is a favorite here.)

And yes, sleep whenever you can. Withdrawal can feel like a bad breakup between your brain and your body, and you’ll need rest to survive the drama.

🚨 4. Know When It’s Too Much

If your symptoms go beyond “ugh” and start looking like “dangerous,” it’s time to get help.
Go to urgent care or call your doctor if you experience:

  • Suicidal thoughts
  • Chest pain
  • Severe confusion or disorientation
  • Tremors, seizures, or blood pressure spikes

No guilt, no hesitation. This isn’t weakness—it’s biology in meltdown mode.

💬 5. You’re Not a “Druggie.” You’re a Human Being.

Let’s kill that stigma right now.
There’s a difference between dependency and addiction—one means your body adapted to a med, the other means there’s misuse or compulsion.

If you’re following your prescription and life implodes when you miss it, that’s not moral failure. That’s chemistry. And it deserves compassion, not judgment.

🌿 Bonus: What to Do Once You’re Back on Track

  • Ask about tapering. Even a few days’ gap can make restarting rough.
  • Set up refill reminders. Calendar, app, sticky note, carrier pigeon—whatever works.
  • Request overlap fills (some pharmacies will fill a few days early if you ask).
  • Stock an emergency buffer once you can, even if it’s just a few days’ worth.

And most importantly: forgive yourself for the mess that isn’t your fault.
Medication management in modern healthcare is like playing whack-a-mole blindfolded. You’re doing great just by surviving it. Dependency is’nt addiction. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!

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The Unofficial Chronic Illness Starter Pack: 13 Things We All Somehow End Up Owning

JoLeave a comment

There’s no “welcome packet” when you join the chronic illness club. No orientation video, no handbook, not even a “sorry your body betrayed you” cupcake. But give it a year or two, and like clockwork, you’ll somehow accumulate the exact same stuff as every other chronically ill human alive.

It doesn’t matter what your diagnosis is — autoimmune, neurological, connective tissue chaos, or “we still don’t know but it’s definitely something.” You’ll still end up with this exact lineup. Consider it the unofficial starter pack for a life you didn’t sign up for.

1. The Heating Pad That’s Basically a Limb Now

Not a heating pad. The heating pad. The emotional-support heating device that never leaves your side. The one that smells a little… “well-loved.” The one that goes on vacation with you, because without it, you might as well just stay home and cry.

Bonus points if you own more than one: couch pad, bed pad, travel pad. If there’s an outlet nearby, there’s probably a heating pad plugged into it.

2. The Pill Organizer That Screams “Elder Millennial in Crisis”

Remember when you thought pill organizers were for your grandma? That’s adorable. Now you’ve got the jumbo one with four compartments per day and color-coded sections that could rival a NASA launch sequence.

You’ve upgraded at least twice. You’ve probably dropped it at least once and watched your entire week scatter across the floor like medical confetti.

3. The Hydration Graveyard

“You need to drink more water!” they said. So you bought every water bottle known to humankind. The motivational one with time stamps. The $40 one that promised to change your life. The one with a straw that always smells faintly weird.

And yet… you’re still dehydrated. But at least your shelf looks like an REI display.

4. Compression Socks That Deserve Their Own Fashion Line

When you first bought them, you swore they were temporary. Now you’ve got rainbow stripes, polka dots, and ones that match your pajamas.

Nothing like someone complimenting your “cute socks” while you’re over here preventing blood from pooling in your legs like a human Capri Sun.

5. Meds You’re 70% Sure You Still Need

Your medicine cabinet looks like a CVS threw up. Some prescriptions you take daily, some “just in case,” and others that you can’t remember why you still have but you’re too scared to stop taking.

At least once a week you’re googling, “can I take this one with food or nah?”

6. The Sacred Comfort Outfit

Elastic waistband. Zero zippers. Fabric so soft it might disintegrate soon but you’ll die before you part with it.

You own duplicates because when you find something that doesn’t make your body angry, you commit.

7. The Ice Pack Army

The freezer is 80% ice packs and 20% actual food. There are gel ones, flexible ones, and the infamous bag of peas that’s been there since the Obama administration.

Visitors open your freezer and immediately regret asking questions.

8. Pillows. So Many Pillows.

You’ve got regular pillows, wedge pillows, knee pillows, body pillows, and that expensive orthopedic one you swear doesn’t help but you’re too stubborn to admit it.

Your bed looks like a cloud exploded. Your couch looks like a pillow fort designed by an overachiever.

9. Your Personal Medical Archive

You could open a small clinic with your paperwork. Test results, specialist notes, insurance denials, and that one referral you might need someday.

Because if you don’t keep copies, you’ll end up explaining your entire medical history from scratch at every appointment anyway.

10. The Blanket Multiverse

Weighted blanket. Heated blanket. Soft blanket. “Don’t touch me” blanket. “Only this texture doesn’t make me rage” blanket.

You’ve reached a point where you can’t sit anywhere without instinctively grabbing one. It’s fine. It’s cozy. You’ve accepted it.

11. Snacks on Standby

Every bag, drawer, and vehicle has a snack stash. Protein bars, nuts, crackers, and that one emergency granola bar that’s probably older than your pet but still good in a pinch.

Low blood sugar waits for no one.

12. The Endless Notebook Collection

Symptom logs, med trackers, food diaries, mood charts, appointment notes. Every notebook started with good intentions and ended three pages in.

You’ve also tried every app known to mankind, but somehow keep coming back to paper and pen.

13. A Dark, Sparkly Sense of Humor

You can’t buy this one, but it’s essential. If you can’t laugh at your heating pad dependency and your pharmacy-sized pill case, you’ll lose your mind.

Because crying hurts your head, and honestly, we’re low on spoons for that today.

The Unspoken Truth

If you’re reading this while sitting on your heating pad, wrapped in a blanket, surrounded by snacks and water bottles you forgot to refill — congrats, you’re one of us now.

The chronic illness starter pack isn’t sold anywhere. You build it piece by piece, fueled by trial, error, and desperate 2 a.m. Amazon searches.

We didn’t choose this starter pack. But we’re making it work — one heating pad session, one sarcastic laugh, one survival day at a time. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!

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7 Conversations I’ve Had With Myself This Week

Jo1 Comment

Look, I talk to myself. A lot. And not in the cute “oh, I’m just thinking out loud” way that neurotypical people do. I’m talking full-blown conversations, complete with tone changes, arguments, and occasionally losing said arguments to myself. If you have ADHD, chronic illness, or just a generally chaotic brain, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

Here are seven actual conversations I’ve had with myself this week. I’m not proud of most of them, but I’m also not surprised by any of them.

1. The Medication Negotiation

Me at 8 AM: “Okay, time to take your pills.”

Also me: “But do I really NEED them today? I feel fine.”

Me: “You feel fine BECAUSE of the pills, you absolute potato.”

Also me: “But what if I’ve been healed by positive thinking and I don’t need them anymore?”

Me: “We’ve been through this. Take the damn pills.”

Also me: “Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”

[Takes pills]

Me, two hours later when brain fog hits: “Why didn’t I take my pills on time?”

Also me: “…We literally just had this conversation.”

2. The Food Decision Paralysis

Me, standing in kitchen: “I should eat something.”

Also me: “Agreed. What do we want?”

Me: “I don’t know, what sounds good?”

Also me: “Nothing sounds good.”

Me: “Okay, what do we HAVE?”

Also me: “Everything and nothing.”

Me: “That’s not helpful.”

Also me: “Neither is staring into the fridge like it’s going to solve our problems.”

Me: “What if we just eat cereal again?”

Also me: “We had cereal for dinner last night.”

Me: “Your point?”

[Grabs bowl]

3. The Task Initiation Battle

Me: “I need to start that thing.”

Also me: “Which thing?”

Me: “You know, THE thing. The important thing.”

Also me: “Oh right. When are we doing that?”

Me: “Now. We’re doing it now.”

Also me: “But first, let me just check my phone real quick.”

Me: “NO. We’re not doing this.”

Also me: “Just one quick scroll.”

Me: “It’s never one quick scroll and you know it.”

Also me: “But what if someone texted us?”

Me: “They didn’t.”

Also me: “But what if they did and it’s urgent?”

Me: “FINE. Five minutes.”

[Three hours later]

Me: “We never started the thing, did we?”

Also me: “…In our defense, we learned a lot about seahorse reproduction.”

4. The Sleep Schedule Delusion

Me at 9 PM: “We should go to bed.”

Also me: “But I’m not tired.”

Me: “We’re never tired at bedtime. That’s literally our thing.”

Also me: “What if tonight is different?”

Me: “It’s not. Go to bed.”

Also me: “But what if I just scroll for a bit and THEN go to bed?”

Me: “That has literally never worked.”

Also me: “There’s a first time for everything.”

[At 2 AM]

Me: “I hate us.”

Also me: “Same.”

5. The Executive Function Check-In

Me: “Have we showered today?”

Also me: “…Define ‘today.'”

Me: “The current 24-hour period.”

Also me: “Then no.”

Me: “What about yesterday?”

Also me: “I plead the fifth.”

Me: “We need to shower.”

Also me: “That sounds like a lot of steps.”

Me: “It’s literally just standing in water.”

Also me: “Yeah, but first we have to DECIDE to shower, then remember to shower, then actually GET IN the shower, then remember what order the shower things go in…”

Me: “Okay I see your point.”

Also me: “Plus we’d have to find a clean towel.”

Me: “Never mind. We’ll shower tomorrow.”

Also me: “Bold of you to assume tomorrow will be any different.”

6. The Pain Scale Debate

Me: “Ow.”

Also me: “What’s the pain level?”

Me: “I don’t know, like a 6?”

Also me: “Is it though? Remember that time we thought 7 was bad and then we had that 9?”

Me: “Good point. Maybe it’s a 5.”

Also me: “But if it’s a 5, should we take pain meds?”

Me: “I don’t know, what if it gets worse and we already used up our meds?”

Also me: “But what if we DON’T take meds and it gets worse anyway?”

Me: “What if we just suffer through it and prove we’re tough?”

Also me: “That sounds like internalized ableism.”

Me: “You’re right. Okay, taking meds.”

Also me: “Wait, did we already take meds today?”

Me: “…I don’t remember.”

Also me: “Cool, cool. This is fine. Everything is fine.”

7. The Bedtime Existential Crisis

Me at 1 AM: “Why are we like this?”

Also me: “Like what?”

Me: “You know… LIKE THIS. The chaos. The forgetting. The talking to ourselves at 1 AM.”

Also me: “It’s not our fault our brain is wired differently.”

Me: “I know, but sometimes I wish we were just… normal.”

Also me: “Normal people are boring.”

Me: “Normal people remember to pay bills on time.”

Also me: “Okay, fair point.”

Me: “Normal people don’t have to negotiate with themselves about basic tasks.”

Also me: “But would we really want to be normal if it meant losing our creativity? Our hyperfocus superpowers? Our ability to make connections nobody else sees?”

Me: “…Are you just trying to make us feel better?”

Also me: “Is it working?”

Me: “A little.”

Also me: “Then yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Me: “We should probably go to sleep.”

Also me: “Agreed. Right after we Google one quick thing.”

Me: “We both know that’s a lie.”

Also me: “And yet here we are.”

The Conclusion I Didn’t Ask For

The truth is, talking to myself has become such a normal part of my life that I forget other people don’t do this. Or at least, they don’t do it out loud. Or with multiple distinct personalities arguing about whether cereal counts as dinner.

But here’s the thing: these internal (and sometimes external) conversations are how my brain processes things. It’s how I work through decisions, remember tasks, and occasionally talk myself into doing basic human functions like showering and eating vegetables.

Is it weird? Absolutely. Is it exhausting? You have no idea. Would I change it if I could?

Ask me again after I’ve had some sleep. And by sleep, I mean after I finish this one last Google search about whether other people have full conversations with themselves or if I should be concerned. Til next time gang, take care of yourself, and each other.

[Spoiler alert: I Googled it. It’s apparently normal. We’re fine. Probably.]

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7 Weird Life Skills Chronic Illness Gave Me

JoLeave a comment

Chronic illness is the world’s most aggressive “skills training program.” Except instead of a certificate and a raise, you get brain fog, pain, and an ongoing relationship with your heating pad. Still, I’ve picked up some unique skills along the way—stuff I never knew I’d need but now couldn’t live without.

1. Mastering the Art of Fake Smiling

I could win Olympic gold for pretending I’m fine while my joints are staging a coup. Do I want to collapse in a heap? Yes. Am I going to grin like I just won a cruise? Also yes.

2. Human Calculator for Spoonie Math

“Can I shower and cook dinner today, or is that too ambitious?” I can do the math faster than you can open your planner. Spoiler: the answer is usually “nope.”

3. Expert in Improvised Heat Therapy

Rice sock? Check. Heating pad? Check. Sitting on my kid’s warm laundry fresh out of the dryer because I can’t wait for relief? Double check. Pro tip, heat rises, I sleep ON not UNDER an electric blanket it has made a world of difference.

4. Planning for Chaos Like a Pro

You know how event planners can handle weddings with 200 guests? Try managing your day when you don’t know if you’ll wake up with a migraine, a hip flare, or zero energy. I don’t plan weddings. I plan for chaos.

5. Napping Anywhere, Anytime

Airports, doctor’s waiting rooms, my car in the school pickup line—I have the gift of nap. If there was a frequent napper punch card, I’d have earned a free mattress by now.

6. Doctor Jargon Translator

I can translate “mild discomfort” into “you won’t walk tomorrow” and “we’ll keep an eye on it” into “we have no idea what’s wrong.” Basically, I’m bilingual.

7. Black-Belt Level Boundary Setting

When you’ve got limited spoons, you learn real quick how to say, “No, I can’t go to your cousin’s friend’s birthday barbecue three towns over.” Honestly, it’s a superpower.

✨ Chronic illness may have wrecked my body, but hey—it gave me some weird little life skills along the way. Your turn: what weird skill has chronic illness forced you to master? Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.

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Survival & Sanity Week 25 & 26

JoLeave a comment

Listen, meal planning is basically the Olympics of adulting. And if you’re running low on spoons, have kids who think chicken nuggets are a food group, or just don’t want to set your house on fire trying to “whip something up” after 5 p.m., you need a plan that’s simple, flexible, and doesn’t judge you for eating tacos three times a week if you want to.

So here it is: two weeks of real-life dinners that use reserves, leftovers, and a little bit of bacon for moral support. You don’t need to spend an hour chopping. You don’t need five obscure spices you’ll never use again. You just need this list and a fridge that sort of cooperates.

Week One

Monday – Crockpot Tacos
Let the crockpot do the heavy lifting. Dump in meat, seasoning, maybe some tomatoes, and boom—taco night without the skillet babysitting.

Tuesday – Leftovers or Reserves
Translation: fridge roulette or that frozen pizza you “forgot” about.

Wednesday – Leftovers or Reserves
Yes, again. You deserve it.

Thursday – Leftovers or Reserves
See above.

Friday – Salsa Chicken
Chicken, salsa, crockpot. It shreds itself. If only the laundry did.

Saturday – Leftovers or Reserves
The theme is intentional.

Sunday – One-Pan Chicken Fajita Bake
Chop, toss, bake. Minimal effort, maximum flavor. No stovetop juggling act.

Week Two

Monday – Sheet Pan Sausage, Potatoes & Veggies
Cut, toss, roast. Bonus: your house smells amazing, like you’ve been cooking for hours instead of 20 minutes.

Tuesday – Leftovers or Reserves
Champion-level laziness, rebranded as efficiency.

Wednesday – Bacon & Veggie Fried Rice
Bacon makes everything better. Toss it with rice and veggies, and suddenly leftovers feel fancy.

Thursday – Leftovers or Reserves
Nothing like a break day to make Friday’s meal feel even easier.

Friday – Crockpot Creamy Ranch Chicken
Chicken, ranch packet, cream cheese, done. If your crockpot had a fan club, this would be the poster child.

Saturday – Leftovers or Reserves
Consider it a chef’s night off.

Sunday – (Optional Swap Night)
Tired of chicken? Grab something from reserves or takeout without the guilt. The system’s built to bend.

Why This Works

  • Built-in leftovers mean you don’t waste food or energy.
  • Reserve-friendly lets you swap in pantry/freezer staples on the hard days.
  • Minimal chopping, maximum flavor because you’ve got better things to do than wrestle with 15 ingredients.

This isn’t about perfect dinners. It’s about feeding yourself and your people without burning all your spoons in the process. And honestly? That’s more impressive than any five-course meal.

👉 Want the full recipes and grocery list? Scroll down . Dinner crisis = solved. Take care of yourselves, and each other!

recipes
Groceries