Another hopeful sign, or else another cruel twist.

Yesterday, she mentioned that she had tried to masturbate in order to relax for sleep, having been suffering from insomnia. It had been a cure in the past. She said it didn't work, that she didn't have an orgasm. Unsaid, was the orgasm diet she's been on for about a month now.

Personally, I took it as a good sign. It means, to me, that she hasn't given up, though she found it discouraging.

I'm hoping to spend a few hours in sensuality sometime soon and see if approaching it with a mindset less likely to set her up for failure will improve things.

On the safety of solitude

I realized something this week.

Balticon was our first major social outing in years and years. Most people have outings like this every few months. Disability makes them difficult for us.

Solitude is safe. Solitude means we don't come into contact with people who are having full lives. We can fold inwards and pretend we're happy the way we are.

But I'm not happy. I'm deeply, achingly envious of people who can go to conferences and conventions every month or so, without having to worry about how far from home they are, what they'll do if a migraine or arthritis or whatever should show up.

When one member of a family is disabled, the whole family is disabled. I've come to realize this.

I wonder if this isn't behind my wife's apparent reluctance to do anything to amend her life. I think she feels safer wrapped in the cocoon of her disability, rather than go out and be in the world. I'm beginning to think that this inwardness is killing her.

And I don't know what to do about it.

Disability

This article in the NY Times says we all must prepare for the possibility of disability.