I'm currently debating on whether to go on disability or not. Part of this because of my chemo treatments, which can be pretty exhausting, but part of it is to also explore other avenues while gaining some form of "stability" as I explore unknown and uncharted territory.
One thing that keeps coming up for me is the thought that my time here is finite. That's true for all of us, but it becomes even more stark when you realize that you have something inside of you that is actively working against you being "you". At the moment I'm relatively healthy. I can lift things, I can work, I can argue with folks on the internet; all told nothing has changed since my diagnosis. But then I think about the unknowns: when will I no longer be able to lift things, when will I no longer be able to work, and (god forbid) when will I be unable to argue with folks on the internet. At what point will this all be pulled away from me in some capacity?
That's a sobering thought.
And then there's the whole "what is my life's purpose" question that constantly hangs over me. I know, I know, way to be overly dramatic with all of this. Indulge me a moment though; what is the point of it all? There are things that I feel like I've definitely been given and goals that I want to achieve that I'm not anywhere near completing. Is disability going to help me with those goals? I'm not sure. I mean, I had a while year of unemployment and I spent most of it trying to gussy myself up so that someone would hire me. Am I going to just turn into some crank that just argues with people on the internet or am I going to actually work on the things that matter and push forward on those goals?
All I know is that I'm going to keep plugging away and trying to find the answers until I can't.