Now that a family member is making conservatorship noises at me because the flow of my management of medical, psychological, and social services needs isn’t happening at the “right” pace, let me be clear: if there’s one way to turn me into someone experiencing suicidal ideation, it’d probably be to take away what little control and self-determination I have, because at that point I’d no longer see a point. So maybe they should take a moment to walk this one back.
What follows below is the last thing I sent back to them today, because I’m done for the day. I am managing as best I can, nothing is being forgotten, but I can’t do it all at once, and no one else could do it all at once for me—or, let’s face it, to me—all at once, either.
And I don’t know how to get it through to you that the entire reason things aren’t happening how or when you want them to is because set priorities keep getting upended by circumstance. Chasing my fatigue issues got upended by bladder surgery. Bladder scans revealed lymph question. Lymph biopsy got delayed because I won’t do it without a follow up CT scan first and it’s taking me months to hopefully force any movement on that front. And now rather than just congratulate me for taking the anxiety medication step and let that work through, you’re hounding me about lawyers and biopsies when I’m only five days into learning how this medication is going to effect me and whether or not it will be the right choice. I am not dragging my feet, I am prioritizing as best as reality allows.
Longtime readers might be thinking they’ve seen me type the word “conservatorship” before. They’d be right, of course. The first time was when a local autistic “advocate” contacted by this same family member showed up at my then-nonprofit and harassed a volunteer about me. To be clear: said family member insists to this day that they did not mention conservatorship to this person; realistically, they had to have said something that would make this guy raise the issue, even if it wasn’t, at that time, intended.