On passing as ablebodied, and the dangers of it

One of the dangers of being such an ablebodied crip as I actually am is that of being too able.
To not be seen for what I really am. I don't often speak about my struggles with my body and my overall health. I find it personal and private, and plus, I don't want to be seen only as a disabled/ill person.
However, sometimes I am low. Sometimes my body gets the better of me.
Right now is such a time, and I have tried to describe it below.


I dress warm. I drink blueberry soup that my mother bought. I stuff my system full of paracetamol, vitamin C and esberitox.
I believe in natural medicine, rest and heat. In short , I care for my house. My body is far from my temple now. (Rather a rugged registrar's office as the joke puts it.)
At least I am free fom fever and hope that tomorrow will be the worst day, that it is the turning point, so I can go to Gävle and beyond.

It is such a strange time now, as always in spring, I dream about the autumn to come. About a life so burning with anticipiation it blackens my sight. Never about the possibilty of rejection.

Directed with a feverish throat and sluggish thoughts on Monday. It went very well after all. They like me and it feels good. Outlining project ideas and writing in solitude today.

Honestly, I have had a rough time throughout all April, my body has been spasmodic and tired and it has required lots of "pure desire" to do the most basic thing. I would like to go into hibernation for a while. As Grenouille in Perfume: The story of a Murderer, lie there in the cave and sip groundwater until my body is healed.
It costs so much to travel, but I do it because otherwise I would just sit at home and grow in to the escapism.

I am always so happy and driven, it is true.
I manage most of the time, it is true.
I do so much on my own, true.
Manages to walk around in Stockholm a whole weekend, true.
And get shitfaced and dance all night, also true.

But no-one sees me on the Monday following those days. That weekend. When I am weary, weak and aching. The mind wants everything. But the body pays the highest price of them all.
Of course I don't want to speak about this then and there.
In the midst of it I want to run as fast as I can on the streets. Drink wine and dance. I am like that too. But I pay a price none of my friends pay. Pain.

I never dislike my body. But it does irritate me that this is always so inconvenient. The tire and the fever, the throat burning.
That it always happens when I have other things to do.
That I always feel as if I pull out.
Postpone.
Bail.
I want nothing more than to be healty. Have energy and force.

I hope I will be well enough to go to Gävle.
If not, that is okay too. It is not my fault that I am sick.
Not my fault that my body always starts on minus, and never on top.
Meanwhile, I care for my house.