How am I supposed to work with these conditions? On PMOS
If you have never experienced what it is like for your body to attempt to systematically try to destroy you through a series of trials that range from foot pain and migraines to crawling to the bathroom to vomit because you dared to eat more than once that day, PMOS probably sounds like a nightmare. It is.
Like many women and AFAB people, I have PMOS (the condition formerly known as PCOS), and it has become a core part of my personality and identity, in ways I never thought it would. But here I am, 32, sitting at my desk, sitting on a hot water bottle, pounding back ibuprofen and chasing it with coffee. Because if I don’t have at least two cups, no matter what I eat, the 3 pm crash comes, and I fall asleep standing up.
Like many people currently in Canada and the world, I am also unemployed. These two things are not fully separate. While I did not lose my job due to illness, my health is certainly limiting what jobs I can apply for. Making an already competitive job market smaller is not a great strategy, but what can I do?
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How am I supposed to explain to future employers that, yes, I am ready and willing to work, but depending on the day, my cycle, and the whims of the universe, I might be fully functioning or unable to get out of bed to shower? Do I lie? Do I not mention it at all? Do I do what I have been conditioned to do my entire life and “put on a brave face” and “tough it out” until the pain gets so bad I have a mental, or physical breakdown? Or do I fling myself into the sun, or go into the woods and stand in a fairy ring and shout my full name out loud? All options are equally destructive.
The worst part is that I am lucky. I have parents who not only wanted to have children, but can also help support their adult child when they have been without traditional employment for over a year. While neither of us is pleased about it, I can live at home, eat their groceries, and get my medication when I need it, because I have my mother’s credit card and my father’s despair fueling my every action. Just in case, I also have a green candle dipped in patchouli that I light every time I click on Indeed or LinkedIn.
At this point, the traditional job market, and attempting to force myself into it, when it is part of a culture and society that is not built for me or my needs, feels more woo-woo than lighting a candle with intention.
So, what next? Great question! I’m still figuring that out. All I know is that I’m a writer with a point of view, and access to the internet to deliver said point of view to the world. At the end of the day, I want to help people. If helping people looks like writing a blog or articles about my health, great. If, somehow, this helps me land a job in the near or distant future where I can work for an organization or a company that aligns with my values, even better (for me).
So, welcome to the longest, most drawn-out introduction I can think of. My name is Lauren, and I have PMOS, BPD, chronic anxiety, and chronic depression. My feet are flat, I had a heart condition as a kid, and ever since I had pneumonia as a six-year-old, my lungs have been a little off. I write vampire romance novels for fun and corporate content for money. I’m in school for editing, and I want to work with words. So I’m going to start with the oldest piece of advice any writer has ever been given. I’m going to write.
