Stress, Disassociation, and the Art of Napping: A Mental Status Update
In December 2019, I received the official confirmation for my partial IV pension, and with that, life finally stopped feeling like a cruel joke. Naturally, I did what any self-respecting Swiss citizen would do: I immediately found myself a job. Because nothing screams „disability support“ like jumping headfirst into the workforce again.
How My Life (and Mind) Changed with the IV Pension
Thanks to the IV pension, I could work in the alternative labor market, which, in theory, is a state-supported system designed to provide meaningful employment for people with disabilities. In practice, my job in the cooperative was eerily similar to a regular job in the free market—except for the laughably low wage of 3 CHF per hour. That’s right, my work had all the responsibilities of a real job, just without the inconvenience of an actual salary.
At first, the job was great. I had positive social interactions, felt increasingly competent, and got the chance to rediscover my own abilities. But, as usual, I made the mistake of being too useful. And as everyone knows, being too competent in a job for disabled people is a great way to get handed more and more responsibility—without the pay to match.
Then came the moment of truth: my values clashed hard with the cooperative’s hunger for profit. Nothing quite grinds my gears like an organization that is fully state-funded yet still operates like a capitalist money machine—on the backs of disabled workers, no less. Let’s call it what it is: exploitation with a socially acceptable label.
So, I made a decision: I would leave and start fresh at another workplace—one that actually takes its social mission seriously. Starting this April, I’ll be working for a smaller organization, one that (hopefully) values people more than their profit margins. Am I excited? Yes. Am I terrified? Also yes. But hey, life would be boring without a little existential dread.
Who Am I Without a To-Do List?
Since this upcoming job change is a perfect opportunity to rethink my life choices, I’ve been asking myself: What do I actually want?
See, I have this annoying habit of letting others define my goals, my actions, my entire existence. It turns out, when you spend your whole life on autopilot, pleasing others, you eventually end up with an identity crisis. Who knew?
So, I’ve been keeping a list. A happiness list. Every time I experience a moment of peace, joy, or genuine satisfaction, I write down what I was doing. Spoiler alert: the number one entry is hanging out with Luna. Whether it’s playing games that make me laugh until I cry or watching her attempt to dig a hole to the Earth’s core on our walks—it’s always Luna.
Which is why I am not diving into my new job at full capacity. This time, I’m setting boundaries. I need time to experiment with life, to try new things. Maybe regular spa days? A course in something random? An attempt at socializing like a functional human being? The ideas are endless; my energy is not.
The Ongoing Struggle with Energy Management
Speaking of energy—or rather, my severe lack of it—this is where my real therapy goals lie for the next 1-3 years.
Physically, I have the endurance of a Victorian child with tuberculosis. Four hours of work, and I need a mandatory 30 to 90-minute rest period, or else my body starts throwing a tantrum in the form of pain and nausea. It’s like my nervous system installed a “mandatory shutdown” button. Annoying? Yes. Necessary? Also yes.
Then there’s the fun part: stress. I experience stress in situations most people wouldn’t even blink at. Why? Probably because my brain operates on “permanent survival mode.” And when stress reaches a certain threshold, my favorite defense mechanism kicks in: disassociation.
For those unfamiliar, disassociation is like your brain deciding, „Nope, I’m out,“ and suddenly, everything feels distant, unreal, like watching your life through a foggy window. Sometimes there are trauma flashbacks. Sometimes there are random gaps in memory. And sometimes, there’s just this overwhelming, unshakable sense of doom—for no logical reason whatsoever.
So, what am I doing about it? Well, I’m becoming a detective. I’m tracking my “stress triggers” with the precision of a true crime investigator. What exactly sends my system into chaos? What mundane, seemingly harmless things push me into panic mode?
Final Thoughts: The Road Ahead
So here’s where I’m at:
- New job incoming. Hoping for the best, preparing for disaster.
- Actively hunting for happiness. Spoiler: it mostly involves Luna.
- Relearning how to be a person. Who knew rest was a thing?
- Trying to outsmart my own nervous system. So far, the score is: Brain – 17, Me – 3.
I don’t know how this chapter of my life will play out, but at least I know one thing: whatever happens, I’m writing my own script this time.
And if all else fails? Well, there’s always napping.
What about you?
Have you ever kept a happiness list? Or realized you’ve been living on autopilot for way too long? Tell me in the comments—I’d love to hear your thoughts (and maybe steal your self-care strategies).
