I’ve now been a member of Medium for ten months. Even though my earnings haven’t been very high, I still like that forum. I enjoy being able to connect with fellow writers and pursuers of knowledge. It gets lonely not having people in person I can bounce ideas off or talk about things like history, philosophy, spirituality, science, tech, etc. without fear of a possible argument or fight in person.

I know it’s not healthy to get most of my socializing over the computer. Then again, neither was the community I spent much of my life in. Since I signed up with Medium, it’s the first time since I graduated college that I met a large group of people who don’t hate knowledge or smart people. It’s actually comforting getting to talk to people with more knowledge than I have.

My best days usually involve a lot of back and forth with fellow writers on Medium. Sure, we don’t always agree on many things. But isn’t being able to take part in a community even while disagreeing part of being a grown up?

Summers are always a rough time for me. I usually sleep in the days to avoid the heat and crowds as much as possible. I know my sleep pattern isn’t conducive to having an active social life. Well, neither is being schizophrenic or wheelchair bound. I just do the best I can and complain as seldom as possible.

I’m losing weight again. I almost never snack, and I usually eat only twice a day. Even though I’m losing weight, my mobility isn’t really coming back.

While I continue to put in work every day to strengthen my bad heart and bad knees, I have come to the acceptance that it’s possible I may never regain my mobility. It is possible I may experience an earlier than expected death with my illnesses. I’ve made my peace with that.

In my country, talking about death and dying is taboo. I never understood why. I mean, death is part of living. I’ve seen too many people try desperately to cling to life in their elderly years even when it was obvious to even themselves that death would be a welcome relief from the chronic pain and mental decline. In many ways, it’s comforting and freeing in that I’ve made my peace with my inevitable death even before I got gray hair.

Granted, I don’t talk about making my peace with death in public or to any doctors. I fear I would be committed if I did. I have zero intention of harming myself or anyone else. It is a good feeling knowing that if I don’t want to get out to meet people I don’t like, I don’t have too. It is a good feeling knowing that, because I was helpful to people when I was still healthy, that many people are more than happy to help me out now that I’m disabled. And I don’t feel a shred of guilt for being interdependent on others. I never should have been convinced to feel this.