Blue, green, red and white laser beams pointing in all directions around s concert venue
I love live music. I love going to gigs, even though I don’t do it that often; it’s something I really enjoy. As a rather emo teenager, I’d queue up in the cold wearing just jeans and a t-shirt, arriving several hours early to guarantee a place at the front by the stage with only the bare minimum of possessions with me to avoid the need for a bag. I would far rather be crushed and sweaty in the mosh pit than sensibly seated or in the less crowded areas at the back.
My first and only festival experience was not something I’m keen to revisit. Between the lack of sleep, disrupted medication schedule, and discomfort of camping, day festivals and open-air gigs are more my thing with a comfortable bed to return to
The days of post-gig highs from adrenaline and lack of sleep have been replaced by planned annual leave the day after a night out to recover. I can’t stand for anywhere near the length of time a gig lasts, and the crowds bumping and pushing me not only increase my anxiety but also cause physical pain and rock my already shaky balance.
Today I’m paying for last night, although the pain and exhaustion are worth it for such a good time seeing First Aid Kit, a band that, although I haven’t been following for long, I’m now a big fan of and really love the music of. They’re also amazing live, but despite some of the perks of going to a gig as a disabled person, such as queue jumping or getting a carers ticket for free, I do wish I could still be near the front and not forced to be seated out of necessity.
A rather appropriate Christmas card I saw last year
I don’t like Christmas, call me Scrooge or the Grinch, but I really don’t enjoy it. Christmas can be a really difficult time for so many people. There’s a big emphasis on joy and happiness, being around family and friends, but the happy family isn’t a reality for many.
My family diminished over the years, with elderly members moving into nursing homes and dying. Now I have no contact with my immediate family, though the family Christmases I did have were rarely happy ones.
My mental health tends to deteriorate around this time of year, the run-up to Christmas really makes me stressed and anxious, despite knowing rationally that the day itself will most likely be fine and that I’m actually going to spend it with two people (and two cats) that I’m choosing to be with.
One of the struggles I have with Christmas is that most of the things I do to support myself aren’t an option. I’m off work for two weeks, there’s a big reduction in public transport, so as a non-driver, I’m limited on how much I can get out. Health services are reduced, as are most other things like council services and housing association (not that my housing association is any use when they are in). It feels like the world shuts down, and the prospect of over a week with nothing to do doesn’t fill me with joy but anxiety.
I need routine and structure to stay relatively sane (emphasis on relatively), though this structure is mainly external, as left to my own devices, I tend to spend too much time in bed or watching YouTube.
The idea of days with nothing to do and falling back into bad sleep patterns reminds me of when that was all my life consisted of. Endless days of nothing stretching out ahead of me, with little point in knowing what day it was when they were all the same. I’d stay up half the night and sleep half the day (this was mainly a way of reducing the amount of time I had to spend around my mother), although however much I need routine, I’m not missing getting in at 8:30 to prepare for volunteer training.
My attempts at festivity, fairy lights wrapped around my crutches and stick
Christmas is also shortly followed by New Year, and the thought of change and reflection, I’ve been reflecting a lot recently, especially on relationships. I’m tired of missing people, especially people who don’t miss me, who made promises they didn’t mean. I don’t want to miss them anymore. In January, I’ll be once again going through medication changes in an attempt to finally get off antipsychotic medication, something I’ve been wanting for a while.
Disability, chronic illness and mental health problems don’t go away for the holidays; it just means different challenges and things that can affect pain or fatigue and trying to manage pacing while still enjoying the day.
To anyone struggling this Christmas, with isolation, pain or mental illness, you’re not alone. This dinosaur sends love and solidarity. If you need support during the Christmas period, the Samaritans are always there, and comedian Sarah Millican will once again be doing #joinin on Twitter for the 7th year running. Have as good a Christmas as you can, a big Christmas RAWR from The Perks of Being a Dinosaur.
The perks of being a dinosaur 