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The Lifetime Box: Everyone Should Have One


I searched through my "lifetime box" the other day, looking for medical test records I kept from when I was deathly ill. I felt like I had something to prove at the time. I had almost allowed another person to (try to) alter and minimize the reality of my personal experience. I felt like defending myself at first, but then I remembered this: Certain personality types do stuff like that. They gaslight everything, including experiences you had by yourself.

No one knows what I went through in 2017 or 2018 because they simply weren't there. No one knows what I'm going through now unless I choose to tell them. Thus, no one has the right to tell me what my medical documents say, which condition I have or don't have, or whether I really almost died four years ago. As a matter of fact, I reject all false narratives about all aspects of my life, from my parenting to my occupation to my health. 

In 2017/2018, I wasn't living in the fanciest dwelling, it's true, but plenty of full families of all races lived there. Not one person had their children taken away for having a low income or for "moving" or living in a dwelling type other people disapproved of. Paying so much rent to live in that "substandard" dwelling added insult to injury, too. I paid more money to live there than most people pay for their mortgages and rents, and I stayed in that same spot consistently for three years. I kept every payment receipt, too. I didn't leave until I found something more suitable. 

My last relationship had ended in 2013, and there was no one in my life in any way at that time. Not a boyfriend. Not a friend. Not a "special" acquaintance or anything of the like. 

It was a bad time for me health-wise because I randomly became gravely ill and had no idea what was going on. I can only assume that my body reacted adversely to some ant bites I got one day when I was working on my car. The alternative is that the lifelong gluten consumption finally took a toll on me. I still don't know what caused the flare. 

That experience was so scary to go through alone. It wasn't just the symptoms that scared me but the lack of empathy and concern from some of the "medics." Someone (eventually) gave me prednisolone and methylprednisolone for the first time in my life, but I never took them at any time. I recovered slowly with certain dietary modifications, and I found an unconventional way to go through a process semi-similar to dialysis once or twice. That helped somewhat. 

What did I do for money while I was sick? How did I pay my bills? A long-distance person donated to me a few times, but I was a ghostwriter mostly. The only services I ever sold were my texts, lol. I stayed inside most days and read the Bible, prayed, and watched ministers and teachers. I worked on my Monte Carlo when I could, too. It took me six months to change a head gasket because I was too sick to even go outside most days. But I told myself I was going to finish that job before I died (I felt like death). I wouldn't leave this world believing someone else's negative words about what I couldn't accomplish. 

I started working for an automotive care center after I recovered (somewhat), and I stayed with them until I couldn't be an automotive technician anymore (their choice, not mine). 

I wasn't just a nameless ghostwriter during that period, though. I got published a few times for some devotionals I wrote for a Christian teen magazine. That's what I found in my "lifetime box." My "lifetime box" has documents and materials from various parts of my life, and they go waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back. I've carried the box around for years. I could actually use its contents to dispute many of the falsehoods that circulate about who I am and who I was. But it's much more entertaining to watch how hateful and low-down some people are. 

Finding those devotionals reminded me that all my work wasn't lost to that unscrupulous content mill. I got published before (newspapers, mags, etc.), and I'll get published again. Maybe I should stick with devotionals and similar texts. The Devozine doesn't circulate anymore, but I'm sure other magazines and publications could use some heartfelt devos.  

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