I am a woman in her early thirties, and somehow still a millennial. Generational divides confuse the hell out of me. I’ve lived in Arizona most of my life, all over the state, with some sojourns in Utah and New Mexico. I was born in California, however. Since it’s too expensive to live in California, we moved to Arizona when I was six. C’est la vie.

I started suffering from mental illness in high school, both depression and anxiety, including some delightful panic attacks. Nevertheless, I graduated and went to university. I hopped majors a few times, and came very close to graduating with a degree in Theatrical Costume Design…except I was more interested in costume construction. I should have continued and gotten my degree, but didn’t. I also majored in Religious Studies, but was much further from getting that degree, since it required two years of foreign language.

Unfortunately, that pesky anxiety reared its ugly head and I didn’t finish my degrees. I also didn’t obtain a withdrawal for health reasons, and basically flunked out. Oops.

Took some different jobs. But anxiety and customer service are not good companions and led to a lot more problems with the depression. Plus I have a delightful chronic pain disorder that was made worse by those jobs where you’re forced to stand.

In New Mexico, I worked at a psychiatric hospital for a couple years but left due to disagreements with a coworker, primarily, as well as car troubles. Since then, my physical ailments have gotten a lot worse. I’m in the process of applying for disability. The state of New Mexico had concluded I was disabled and was giving me cash assistance for that until I moved back to Arizona.

I’ve always been a writer, and so I decided to start this blog. And that brings us up to today. The title is inspired by the book by Wendy Doniger, one I have admired since university.

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