rules of equivalent exchange

03 Oct, 2025

do you know what the worst thing about getting older is? i'll tell you: you start believing that happiness comes at a cost. you lose people and places and things and you keep losing; because time is a foe that is only as generous as she is cruel.

now i've been gone for a couple of super crazy extra eventful months i probably should've documented but simply could not bring myself to as i was Living And Not Looking Back For Anything, so here’s the rub: we are more than halfway through this incredibly harrowing year, and i haven't stopped asking myself if i've done everything i can to be good about it.

i've got multiple conditions affecting the quality of my life at the moment. i’m trying to be positive about this. circumstance affects everyone — life is a lottery but you can carve at it, cut your hair in the way you like, build community — keep going, keep going. you know the drill. i'm fairly good at the drill.

this doesn't mean i don't feel defeated. i do. i’m just… i try not to let that feeling linger. in fact, i am kickboxing every instinct ingrained since birth letting this sit rather than jumping ship and racing off to vanquish the next, more manageable beast. sitting with discomfort isn't my strong suit.

but lately i’ve been holding my breath again. like i’m trying to be quiet for long enough that maybe i can slip under the radar of whatever force decides life's been too easy. logically, i know it doesn't work this way. reality doesn't care how quiet you're being. emotionally? i'm still getting there.

see: i went on a short trip with some dear friends recently. am i happy? of course i am. i am also: trying not to act like i'm facing down god in a trial where it's determined whether or not i've done enough to be allowed this, or if there is a toll i must pay for it.

(gramps is in the hospital again for an issue with his kidney. it sucks knowing he's going through such a hard time while i just get to live my life. i wish i could do something, like take some of the burden off his shoulders; but i can't. the need to show him i'm alright and that he doesn't have to worry about me has been the bulwark keeping most of my fears at bay.)

so let's talk about what i'm afraid of, exactly. dying? being injured? getting sick? yes on all three counts insofar as making everyone who i care about distraught and upset. the idea of inconveniencing friends and family genuinely gives me hives. i haven't done nearly enough to repay them for the kindness they've served me freely for all my years. it keeps me up at night how i might never get to.

if i could go back in time and slap myself for not being more diligent, i would. it seems obvious that there are only so many things you can do for others if you don't cherish yourself. but this is a lesson i only learned in my twenties. (talk about oblivious!!!)

the one thing that's really helped is thinking of my grandma. mâ passed just last year, but she hasn’t stopped giving. like a little foothold of love and hope to pull from when i'm left grasping at straws. a reminder that it's not impossible to defy the rules of equivalent exchange. or stand by them, depending on how you crunch the numbers.

i can’t pay her back for any of it. not the time or effort she put into raising me, or the many incalculable ways she’s made me stronger. my parents have always worked long hours — mâ was the person who taught me how to cook, sew, and do math in my head instead of on paper. i'm still not very good at it, but everything i learned about taking care of myself i learned from her.

a year has gone by where i haven’t fluffed up her pillows or massaged her feet, but she’s still with me. still finding ways to push me forward. did you know? when you spend enough time caring for someone you don’t have to say it for them to know: you hope they climb every mountain. find the all blue sea. stay in the game, even if it means losing. take back as much as they can take back from chance.

it's a bit embarrassing how every one of these entries seems to end the same way; but every year october third rolls around and i find i still need the reminder: that the past longed for may never return, and why should it? we've given up so much to be here.