Confessions of a libra

Deep healing | Credit: Here

12.09.25

Writing as reprieve, is sewn into my identity. I imagine in my DNA sequencing, some code snuck in there about the overwhelming need to process my feelings through written language. For years I wanted to be a video essayist, because I knew I had a lot of opinions that deserved platforming, and now in my Saturn Return and birthday month – I am platforming my ideas in my most natural form of expression. I wanted to write yesterday. I have been on a 6 day writing streak and I couldn’t carry that torch on. It hurts, but I am writing this for all the chronically ill, burnt out creatives.

I do have a day job, as a capitalist cog in the machine. However, my body gave up and gave in after another round of self-advocacy. I’ve been in a round-robin my whole professional career, advocating for myself and pointing out structural rot. Yet always at the cost of myself. People think I enjoy being the one with Sight, but they don’t realise if they did too, it would eat them up inside to clock in every day and pretend everything is okay. I made a valid complaint last month on the 25th of August. It wasn’t my first complaint about this situation, but it was my final olive branch if you will. I have been sick ever since.

I don’t expect corrupt systems to finally work or care about me, I think my body already knew that the response to my complaint would be treated without care. At first I blamed my hormones, didn’t go into my physio. Took the rest of the week off. The next week, I almost got through a 5 hour shift, before I left work with my body in full shakes, a massive headache and sharp electrical pain going from my knee down my shin and calf. The knee I had surgery on in April. So I took the rest of last week off too.

I have been logging my pain and listening to it, like a Scientist. It’s one thing my GP and Physios (2) love about me. Both physios I see, believe I have a unique ability to be in tune with my body. I thank yoga and meditation for teaching me the fundamental skills of how to be in my body and listen to it. A skill I can’t now unknow. I spent most of last week, shaking, feverish with headaches that were simply unbearable. That was more than a signal. That was bodily revolt. I have been holding in so much wrongdoing in my own heart, with my keen eyes and Witch’s nose for bullshit. I have pretended not to see. Not as a mercy, but in hopes that someone, somewhere would feel bad enough. Would want to fix the mess they have caused, the karmic debt they have accrued.

Yet the Gods can only help those who help themselves. So, last week I finally went to the GP and told him what I’d been going through. He gave me 2 weeks off, just to help manage my stress and anxiety. This GP is aware that the last Psychologist I tried to engage, found an excuse to drop me as a patient – for missing an appointment due to my demand avoidance. She was worried she wouldn’t get paid, and said she couldn’t sustain it. I called my Workcover Insurance Case Manager and made sure they paid her for that last appointment. I think she dropped me because my metacognition intimidated her. As it has intimidated other Psychologists I have had. Now that I am turning 29 this month, I think I have learned how to therapise myself, I just need time. And capitalism is not conducive to my healing.

So I have been off work. It is why I was posting more often than you saw me post last month. More similar to my rhythm in May, post-surgery when I began using writing as a ritual. For those unaware, this blog was started in November last year. In 2024, I wrote 6 posts only and in April this year another 2 posts, the same month after my surgery. By May, the pain was still excruciating, but it had lessened enough for me to be able to write. So I wrote for 25 days in May. In June I wrote every day, except 2. I was healing, unable to walk without crutches, and really limiting my movement for eating or toilet usage, so writing became my way to experience the world. Through my memories and through my chosen artform.

I have been working since the end of June, and it has been strange trying to return to normalcy again. Speaking to people felt like a muscle I hadn’t used in too long. It was easier to be watchful. For anyone who has ever had to be covered by an Insurer for an injury at work, you will know that the road isn’t easy. The amount of paperwork I’ve had to fill, people I’ve had to liaise with, Dr’s appointment upon Dr’s appointment just to be approved to work from home, the hoops have been many. Very rarely in the hoops and in the fight, does anyone actually care how I am being affected. Everyone sees me either as a responsibility or box to tick. That weighs on me overtime. I have been dehumanised more in the last 12 months, than ever in my life and it has mostly been institutional.

I don’t write this to take pity on myself, but I do write this to be encouraging. Between November and April, I had 8 posts written. As it stands on the 12th of September 2025 when I write this, I have written 199 posts, consisting of 272.8K words. I have written several novels worth. That means, I have written most of this blog, straight after an ACL reconstruction. This 6 day streak I was unable to extend, was written with me mostly feverish, headachy and fatigued. Yesterday, I barely had the energy to keep my own head up, but I had no formal commitments to attend to, luckily enough. My system is completely overrun. Right now I feel the current in my blood, and if I stop my hands are shaking.

My goal is to reach 300K words, then I might step back from the blog primarily to work on my novels. The blog is too delicious, but I cannot prioritise both at the same time. I assume, if I leave you all with a compendium on life – as this blog appears to be – then I can fuck off with the Fairies and write some naughty but delicious books. There’s this fantasy series in particular that my spirit yearns to bring to life. The worldbuilding I have done already is rich in politics, fables, curses and cosmology.

This blog isn’t proof that I am inherently strong or powerful. It’s proof that I have lived a life with no soft place to land. And even now as I near 30, having pruned both friends and family – I still have no soft place to land. Any ease I have had in this life has had to be carved by me, through skin, bone and blood. I am once again, paving my own way, since no one will seat me at their table. People only see my chronic pain, my depression and my anxiety as weak points to exploit. I fundamentally refuse to be anyone’s pawn, just because you perceive me to be weak. I am only weak, when I choose to be and that will never be for anyone else’s benefit. As I always say, being underestimated is the greatest gift you can give me. You can try to shiv me in my weakened state, only to find yourself convulsing on the floor beside me.

I’m writing this to remind myself, at the end of my first week off on sick leave – that I carved this time for myself. Not because someone chose to come rescue me from over-functioning for the ungrateful and the racist. I’m writing this as a record, because I know a year from now, this injury and this feeling of total body shutdown – will be just a story in my history. For those who read these words, don’t try and fuck with people because you think they can’t – or won’t – defend themselves. That’s super opportunistic, and you never know the ancestral backing some people have out in these streets.

Ancestral backing or not, I AM a Witch so when you fuck with me – you are fucking with natural order. And I am The Fulcrum, I will right those fucking scales if it’s the last thing I do. I will halt my own plans, to chase justice even if it’s the last thing I do. For those who care about my health, I see you and I thank you for your understanding. Know that every word I write is a labour of love. Continue taking care of your mental and physical health even when no one else will. Make your wellbeing non-negotiable. Asé.

P.S. Not WordPress gaslighting me, I thought I had published 192 posts based on one of the backend pages, but this post was my 200th post!!! Ugh, yum!