Living in a minivan. Life is on pause. This is all I can handle right now. This is not an exaggeration. This is all I can handle right now.
I am thinking obsessively about quilting. I have been excited about sewing for awhile now, but didn't land on any avenue within that vast wide world of fabric and thread. Now I've discovered "modern quilting" and "improv piecing" - keywords which ignite fire in my brain. I want to begin, but I have impediments in my path, both physical and self-imposed.
Making a quilt in a van isn't easy no matter what. I feel huge resistance when I perceive any lack of efficiency. This is true of everything I ever do; putting a sock on my foot entails debate. I want to recognize this handicap, and get past it. My brain tells me not to even begin something until it is possible to have an efficient flow. In reality - logically - I know there is great strength in beginning something new even if you aren't ready. You can't have momentum if you don't begin. Especially with an artistic endeavor, any forward momentum, no matter how minuscule, is vastly preferable to wheels spinning in my mind with no resistance.
My brain will always cook up reasons to postpone any action, but this "lack of efficiency" is a major one. I don't have a home, a sewing studio, Adderall... and each of those hurdles comes with a series of smaller hurdles. I feel like I need a miracle to be able to jump up and over this. A breeze is a hurricane.
Here is how I think I need to do this: Shower > Find any acceptable room in Austin TX > Find doctor, therapy, Adderall > reassemble sewing studio > adapt and normalize.
I don't feel ready to feel any cold temperatures while living in a van. It will take a little bit of time to look at places and move in somewhere. In the meantime, I will be living in a van, and cold will make that hard. I will feel lonely. It will be hard. Even though I know this, it won't feel how I expect. Failure is possible, and I am very much in need of a win. I need to maximize my likelihood of success. I desperately need help.
Let me tell you how this feels: Sometimes I see somebody changing a flat tire on their bicycle. They are fumbling around, probably using a screwdriver as a tire lever, and success doesn't look at all like a given. So I offer to help. I can assist with advice, tools, or just do the whole job. I can fix a flat with my eyes closed and underwater. It's nothing. The things I fumble with in life are so simple to the average person that it wouldn't even occur to anybody that I might need assistance. Without privilege and a strong safety net of friends and family, I would probably be actually homeless. I am fumbling trying to fix this simple little flat tire, and I desperately need help, and I am surrounded by bicycle mechanics whizzing past, but nobody will stop because nobody can see that I am quietly going fucking crazy here.
The things I am good at - and there definitely are some! - do not help me with the fundamental details of daily living. I have a lot to offer another person, and I do not need much in return. That's how I see it. Help me tie my shoes, and I will build you a house.