Stress, Dissociation, and the Art of Napping

December 2019: The disability pension arrives – and suddenly (almost) everything gets better

In December 2019, I finally received the official confirmation for my disability pension. For the first time, life didn’t feel like a cruel joke anymore.
So I did what any respectable Swiss person in my situation would do: I immediately went out and found myself a job.

Because nothing pairs better with “disability insurance” than a full-time position in the labor market, right?

How the pension (and my brain) changed my life

Thanks to the pension, I was able to work in what’s called the secondary labor market – theoretically a state-supported system that provides meaningful jobs for people with impairments.
In practice, my job at the cooperative felt almost like any “normal” workplace – just with the charming detail of being paid three Swiss francs an hour.

You read that right:
All the duties of a real job – minus anything you’d dare to call a salary.

At first, the job was good. I had social contacts, I felt competent, I rediscovered my skills.
But – as so often – I was too good.
And in the world of sheltered employment, being too competent only means one thing: more responsibility. Just not more pay.

Then came the clash: my values colliding head-on with the cooperative’s greed.
Few things make me angrier than an organization 100% funded by the state that acts like a capitalist company – on the backs of people living on disability benefits.

Let’s call it what it is:
Exploitation with a social label.

So I decided: I’m leaving.
I’m starting fresh.
From April on, I’ll be working at a smaller organization – one that hopefully takes its social mission seriously.

Am I excited? Yes.
Am I scared? Also yes.
But hey – what’s life without a touch of existential dizziness?

Who am I without a to-do list?

This job change is the perfect excuse to question everything.
What do I actually want?

The truth is, I tend to shape my goals around other people.
What they expect of me. What seems “appropriate” at the time.
If you spend years on autopilot – functioning, while forgetting yourself – you eventually crash into a full-blown identity crisis.

So I started keeping a list.
My happiness list.
Every time I feel genuine joy, calm, or contentment, I write down what I’m doing in that moment.

Spoiler:
Right at the top is time with Luna.
Whether I’m laughing with her until tears roll down my cheeks, or watching her dig determinedly toward the earth’s core – it’s always Luna.

That’s why I won’t be starting the new job at 100%.
I’m setting boundaries.
I need time to try life. To experiment with new things.
Maybe spa days?
A course in something absurd?
Pretending to be a socially competent human for once?

The ideas are endless.
My energy, sadly, is not.

Energy – my eternal final boss

Speaking of energy:
Here lies my actual therapeutic goal for the next 1–3 years.

Physically, I have the stamina of a Victorian child with consumption.
Four hours of work – and I need a mandatory break of 30 to 90 minutes.
Otherwise, my body rebels: nausea, pain, sensory overload.
As if my nervous system had an emergency off-switch.
Annoying? Yes. Necessary? Also yes.

And then there’s the good old stress.
I react to stimuli that wouldn’t make others bat an eyelash.

Why?
Probably because my brain runs on permanent “survival mode.”
And when the stress level climbs too high, my favorite defense mechanism kicks in: dissociation.

Dissociation? My brain goes: “Nope. I’m out.”

For those who don’t know:
Dissociation feels like your brain saying,
“You go on without me, I’ll just watch from over here.”

Suddenly everything feels distant, unreal, like you’re viewing life through frosted glass.
Sometimes there are flashbacks.
Sometimes memory gaps.
Sometimes just a dull, paralyzing sense of doom – without a single logical reason.

What do I do about it?
I become a detective.
I log my triggers with the meticulousness of a true-crime nerd.

What exactly crashes my system?
Which harmless daily situations send me spiraling?
I want to know.

And now? Current status report:

• New job lined up. Hoping for the best – prepared for anything.
• Happiness quest ongoing. Luna = cheat code.
• Learning how to human. Turns out rest is part of it.
• Wrestling with my nervous system. Current score: Brain 17 – Me 3.
• I don’t know how this chapter ends.
  But I do know this: This time, I’m writing the script myself.

And if it all goes sideways?

Well.

Then I’ll just take a nap.

And you?
Have you ever kept a happiness list?
Or realized you’ve been stuck on autopilot way too long?
Drop it in the comments – I’m curious (and always ready to steal good self-care hacks).