In this candid, vlog‑style monologue, the speaker recounts a recent emergency‑room visit for suspected serotonin syndrome and the ongoing physical symptoms—diarrhea, chills, sweats, bruising, and shakiness—while awaiting a doctor's appointment. They weave this experience into a broader discussion of chronic health challenges (autism, IBS, GERD, endometriosis, major depressive disorder, suicidal ideation) and how mental and physical ailments constantly clash. The speaker reflects on the social model of disability, critiquing societal ableism and describing systemic barriers to care, financial insecurity, and the failure of disability services. They share a personal vision of creating a community center (Griffin Corps LLC) to provide inclusive support for neurodivergent and chronically ill individuals, but express frustration that their own health prevents progress. Throughout, they convey deep loneliness, fear, and a yearning for genuine connection, thanking viewers for small gestures of kindness and emphasizing the importance of honest, vulnerable storytelling.
Chapters
It's, uh, still a hard day. Recovery. Um, still having diarrhea, very fun. Don't have electrolytes, have salt, try to figure something out. Um, a little shaky still, got the weird chills alternating with sweats still. I'm gonna stay on the 40 dose until I see the doctor on Monday. But yeah, it's pretty scary. It's scary to feel like I don't have any options, you know? Like, my mental health and my physical health are constantly fighting with each other, and when I try to improve one, the other one suffers. [LAUGHTER] Um, you know, I— for a while, I was like, being autistic isn't in itself a disabling condition, if society could understand and accept and support me better, right? But then I thought about that, and I was like, well, that's kind of like all disabilities, right? Like, we are disabled by society. Just because there's something about us that's different and doesn't work the way that the majority of people's bodies and minds works, why does that mean that, like, there's a problem with us? You know what I mean? Like, why— why are we not worthy of getting support and help and the same kinds of treatment and care, you know, as everyone else? And so— Yeah. When we think about the social model of disability, yeah, I guess my primary disabling condition is autism, even though to me it doesn't feel that way. It feels like I have all of these other issues or other conditions that are way more severe, you know? Like, I— my IBS and GERD situation, my— I've, you know, had so much pain. Oh, and then endometriosis, which I had surgery for, right? Like, so just like my whole gastrointestinal tract is just like, "Wah!" It's very angry in general and has been since I was a kid. And then, you know, they say the gut is your second brain, and so if both my gut and my brain were both like, "Mmm, not doing great," that would explain why I've had the, you know, suicidal ideation since I was a kid and major depressive disorder, which to me sometimes feels like the most disabling condition because if you have no will to live It's like— Trying to explain depression is really, really complicated because a lot of people think it's just being sad or mopey and melancholy, but no, depression means like— so if you think about what a depression is, like when you depress on something, it's like it's a weight, right? It's going down, it's heavy, it's dragging you down. So there's a reason why chronic fatigue conditions often accompany major depress— depression. And so that's how like mental conditions start to manifest physiologically and they start breaking down your body physiologically if you go too long, um, with your mental health not being treated. Um, and mental health conditions, a lot of the time, you know, people like to say, oh, it's a chemical imbalance. You know, sometimes, and, and sometimes that chemical imbalance or whatever is just different, again, biochemistry, different neural pathways, just needing something slightly different. And sometimes it's community, sometimes it's not having had the stress that we had, you know, that we're constantly being barred access to basic supports because we're held to these ableist and other discriminatory standards that are impossible for us to meet. And— Yeah. My dream and my goal, you know, was thinking, well, maybe if we just pool our resources in the community, we could actually create a community center that is designed specifically for people like me, and we could coordinate services, support services, and build like support, peer support groups, and just try to make things more inclusive and safe and accessible. And that was my whole plan and idea with my Griffin Corps LLC that I was building and developing, but I just have been so unwell that I just can't seem to make progress on my own, and I feel like really scared and overwhelmed because all the things that I could try to do, I'm also— every— it's like every time I try to do something, my health gets all messed up worse again, and then I become even more incapacitated. Like, as I'm getting— as I feel like I'm healing and getting better, I try to do more things, and then it's like I overextend and fall back into burnout again. And as much as I want to not be hopeless, as much as I want to put out positive messages, sometimes it's just so overwhelming, and, um, I'm so afraid that I'm never gonna get better, at least to the point where I can function and help and be a contributing member of society, and, um, right now the place I live really doesn't want people like me to exist at all, especially if we can't work in any capacity. And I just wish, you know, like, ugh, I wish life were a fairy tale. I wish there were some sort of rich benefactor, some sort of celebrity who saw me and was like, "Hey, this person has ideas, they're just not well, and they just need support, and maybe I could just take them under my wing and be their patron and, you know, help them get out of, like, the scary situation they're in so that they can feel safe and get stabilized, and then maybe they could actually help other people if I just invest in them." It's like, All my life I just wished that I could find one person who had means and money and ability to support me in, in the ways that I need to recover from these weird conditions I've got going on, and to figure out how to like stabilize and manage existing in a body like this when there's very little information. Um, and— And even if I have information, I can't access the treatments that I need, the resources, 'cause I don't have the money, and things are just really scary, you know? And I keep wanting to believe in people, and I keep wanting to keep trying, right? I keep— My arm hurts. They messed up the— injection. Yeah, the phlebotomist poked me a million times and hit a valve, and it really hurts. She did it like— yeah, it's definitely gonna be bruising, but— ow. I hate being one of those people who just cries on the internet. Hahaha. And I also hate how fake everything is, you know? And how much people feel the need to put on pretenses and pretend like everything's okay and ignore everything that is shitty in the world. So even if my content is depressing and maybe it's triggering and maybe people think I'm just a crazy person and a hot mess and someone who deserves to die because I'm just so dysfunctional, you know? Whatever! Yeah. At least I'm putting out something that's honest. At least there's something real here. And I don't know if that's worth anything, but I just want people to know how hard it is for me to keep showing up every day, how hard it has always been for me, and how much it really does mean a lot when people are kind to me. Even just one little— Thank you. Message, when you like my post, when you send a heart, it really means everything to me, 'cause I am very lonely. 'Cause I don't know how to be in this world, and I don't know how to exist, and I don't know how to function, and I'm trying, and I keep trying, and I've used the DVR services, the vocational rehabilitation, you know? Mm-hmm. They couldn't really help me. I've, I've tried all of the various disability things. I either don't qualify because they think— I don't know what they think about me. They think that because I'm self-aware and knowledgeable and articulate, I should be able to, I don't know, do things that I can't. But that's where it is right now. And I'm scared for everybody in the county, and I'm wanting to help with everything that's happening. I want to help La comunidad latina, you know? And I'm fucking broken. And I'm scared. But I'm still alive for now. And I love you all. And I thank you for being here along the journey with me for as long as you choose to stay. I know it's hard to witness this and not be able to fix it. Many have said that to me, and that's part of why I've tried to isolate, because I didn't want to put my pain on others. But I've also heard that's not good, so I'm trying something now, and that's just being myself, showing up, being here. Sending love to you all. Love you.
