Categories
Chronic Disease Emotional Work

Day 1806 and Trying Not To Upset My Proverbial Applecart

I have had way too many minor (and major) health problems emerge over the course of 2025. Adding in personal life tragedies (the death of my father) and I had a challenging year.

So I trying to keep the last few weeks of the year crisis free. I have already pulled myself out of the day to day to try for a slow wind down of the year. No holiday parties or appearances for me. I am gone.

As I slow down and put distance between myself and the world, I maybe stupidly see it as an opportunity to nudge myself on little health promoting efforts.

After the year I’ve had, I so desperately want to see improvements. Even if simply not collapsing into another infection cycle is a win.

I’ve been trying to consistently work on body basics like muscular compensation patterns and getting more steps each day, but I’m so terrified that even a minor miscalculation in exertion will upset my proverbial apple cart.

I went for a walk on a high mold count day and reached for prednisone. I’ve been teetering on the wrong side of recovery for so long I don’t think I can recall a genuinely good day. My sleep is similarly impacted. I want to have a long night of deep sleep and dream cycles but the best I can manage is just a long night.

Categories
Finance Politics

Day 1799 and Thucydides Middle Income Local Maxima Traps

I have been catching up on Odd Lots which is the one podcast I listen to with any consistency. As all discussions about economics boil down to great power discussions as of late. The times they are indeed a-changing.

I noticed that both hosts brought up their collegiate studies of international relations across two back to back episodes. First on the Thanksgiving episode with Graham Allison of Thucydides trap fame.

I just caught up on it today and then the subsequent interview with Ray Dalio on his five forces episode. Joe and Tracy brought up international relations studies in both episodes as it does seem to be the current mood.

Dalio is always an enjoyable listen but I’m much more interested in Professor Allison as (to prove the joke Joe made) in the introduction that “a substantial portion of our listeners are really into ancient Greek history

And indeed Joe is right. I’m a huge Thucydides fan, I went on a Peloponnesian War tour and am a regular visitor of the Balkans and its ancient Mediterranean and Roman history.

So naturally I have followed Allison’s work on rising power and its threat to established ones.

The US and China are in a “Thucydides Trap,” whereby the risk of war is heightened when an established power is threatened by a rapidly rising power. This is the framework that’s been popularized by Graham Allison, the Douglas Dillon Professor of Government at Harvard University. Professor Allison has been writing about China and the US-China relationship for decades

I guess all millennials grew up thinking we’d study these historical concepts in an eternal Pax Americana only to find the end of history wasn’t here to stay and we might fall into the trap. It’s just hard to imagine America feeling threatening to anyone at the moment.

As I listened to the episode, I happened to be walking through a neighborhood on the outskirts of a city that is keen to tear down some of its older homes to make way for new roads and denser apartment buildings. Much of those changes were clearly already in motion, as I saw cranes and construction crews.

The older homes looked multi-generational, but not in that wealthy polished way, so much as the middle income stalled economy compromise.

And yes you see it even in first world nations. In America and Europe, many conditions would benefit from more of a longhouse “in it together” approach. As elders stretch on in years and millennials go into middle age with few markers of adulthood. You’d think we’d want more of these style of homes.

I wondered if a city carving out the old construction through imminent domain tactics and buyouts, would make this outskirts neighborhood more vibrant. It would certainly bring in new buyers of condominiums. Consumption must go up.

I wondered about the families inside of the homes that looked more like multi home construction. Gates and other obstructions made it hard to tell, but the impression I got was more middle income local maxima family compound trap.

China rising, while the first world learns it may be more second world than it realized, makes me wonder if we’ve got it all wrong. More of the planet is in the middle income trap than the World Bank realized.

What if there is no Thucydides trap to fear as other powers sputter and stall. We long for an artificial intelligence boom to launch the globe into a high earning high efficiency world.

Sociologist Salvatore Babones and political scientist Hartmut Elsenhans call the middle-income trap a “political trap” as economic methods to overcome it exist. However, few countries use them because of their political situation. They trace the causes of the trap to the structural problems and the inequalities generated in the early development process.

According to them, the wealthy elites then follow their interests by bargaining for a strong currency which shifts the economy’s structure towards the consumption of luxury goods and low-wage labor laws, which prevents the rise of mass consumption and mass income.  Via Wikipedia

That sure sounds like a lot of the problems we see in America and Europe. All we are doing is getting gummed up in Baumol’s Cost Disease as we try to reinvent new ways of living that consume what remains of the old without the new going as fast as is needed.

But old multi-generational homes blocking the expansion of a city won’t get anyone to mass affluence. So it’s time to bulldoze old neighborhoods and make luxury boxes in the sky.

Not sure that ended well for China either. They popped their real estate bubble. And they wisely tamp their currency to export all their consumer goods. They might be stuck in a local maxima middle income trap too. Maybe Thucydides isn’t the framework here. Or maybe war is the only reset humanity knows.

I myself am hoping we choose to go to space instead but the South China Sea sits waiting. The only currency that matters in this strange moment is GPUs and that’s a different trap entirely.

Categories
Community Culture Politics

Day 1776 and Remembering the Specifics

A little quirk of my personal record keeping that day seventeen sixty six of writing coincides with Armistice Day and in America now Veterans Day.

A lot to be said for how Americans always make it about themselves. World War I because an entirely new scale of war that did not exist when we fought the Red Coats for self governance.

And that has a lot of foreign interventionism in it. But we won that war so the assist from the French isn’t seen as pesky meddling. Imagine how the British press must have covered that at the time.

It’s still hard not to think about how different Americans post colonial future could have gone. We stabilized into a democracy and went in meddled in other people’s wars.

I don’t know why it never occurs to most Americans now people meddle in our problems with the intent of making us an easier target. One man’s nation is another nation’s propaganda target. Americans get targeted too.

The soft grey war is much harder to see when the wars we are taught to remember get lumped into one holiday honoring all veterans.

Wars aren’t specific anymore for us and this is a bad thing. My generation got the “global war on terror” and we learned our lessons in ways far too abstract for most and concrete in ways.

That disproportionately affected regular people rather than the wealthy inner core. Hard to consider how that plays into other nations calculations. Just seems like remembering the specifics of a conflict might be helpful to staying a thriving nation.

Categories
Aesthetics Politics Preparedness

Day 1774 and Haywire Hell Handbaskets

It’s getting harder to ignore the crumbles. Everyone on the internet is furious about everything. And everyone offline is just trying to keep their heads down.

I should probably have the good sense to do so as well, but I’ve made my bones being accessible and not at all sure I know what happens in a post-human Internet. I want it to be a human directed future.

2025 as a year has been particularly challenging even though we’ve had some positive moments. More and more things are breaking and it’s just impossible to ignore no matter your insulation from reality.

And quite obviously, I have done more than average to move us as far from the center of Empire as is feasible. We moved to Montana.

Part of me thinks it’s well past time we really took a hard look at the hell in a hand basket direction we are headed in. Things are going haywire everywhere. The brief moment in which it felt like we might accelerate through the turn naturally goes splat if you don’t commit to the bit.

And part of me says fuck’em all. The shit that was done to me in the service of extracting my life force for what, pensions and healthcare costs for a generation who broke all social fabrics? It’s literally Saturn eating his son levels of disgusting.

And yet, I’m still unwilling to consider the centralized approach. We’d be eaten faster just like whales fished into oblivion by mistakes in the Soviet math.

It’s quite canny of Peter Thiel to be ahead of it and it’s a better look than insulting the spiritual leader of the Catholic Church. And I’m not a notably sympathetic person when it comes to institutions like the Church (being a Protestant and all). I’m more of a direct communion with the Lord type.

However when a man well versed in scapegoat theory puts out a sympathetic hand & his most significant rival makes the tactical error of insulting the Pope, you know the tilt-a-whirl is in full spin and there is little space for any of us to cling.

We are on the highway to hell, & I was promised a handbasket but there are none to be had as they’ve been hoarded. The fourth turning is about to show us that even the liberals get the boot. There is little doubt that I am mere scraps of elite overproduction that refused to fuse to my intended spot. I’ll find my own place to stand.

Categories
Chronic Disease Internet Culture Reading

Day 1772 and No Signal

The volume of communication we receive digitally has risen to deafening levels. I’m shocked we aren’t all in a civilizational stupor muttering “mawp” like the cartoon secret agent Archer.

As we attempt to balance the barotrauma of the increasing volume of dings, pings, tings and Slack bings trying to reorient our attention towards them, the temptation is level the pressure explosively. Shut up!

The noise is bearing down on us relentlessly. Just when we think the pressure might equalized and we have adjusted to the din, a new chime will force a recalibration.

MAWP!

Our phones become dysbaric monsters. The ambient pressure disorder that is leveling your attention span to the cacophony of alerts and aggravated existential noise leaves us deaf, dumb and disoriented.

Different people cope with this in different ways. Many of my friends have committed email bankruptcy including me. Some people make big claims of having screen free homes. Others go to physical therapy or osteopathic craniosacral specialists for cervicalgia. Isn’t it nice to know your text neck is killing you even if the tinnitus and vertigo doesn’t get you first.

This is all to say that my Signal Mobile application inexplicably stopped working this morning and the silence is causing me some degree of anxiety. If I were a woman with fewer scruples I’d consider it disabling.

Alarmingly, because I’ve been forced to mute virtually every other channel of communication to avoid the noise, this means it’s been largely impossible to get work done.

Hopefully I find a solution soon. I rebooted my phone, cleared my cache and updated to the new iOS. Nothing works. I’m afraid that I’ll be losing the one channel that actually functions for me.

If not, you may very well not hear from me again. Twitter direct messages still work. If you are looking for me check the nearest ear, nose and throat specialist. If I can’t fix my ankylosis in my thoracic maybe I can improve my posture in the meantime. The worst case scenario will be installing WhatsApp but I’ve not given in to that nightmare scenario just yet. I’m running silent in my attention submarine but I’ll have to resurface at some point.

MAWP!

Categories
Emotional Work Politics

Day 1770 and Making Suffering Worthwhile

A long time ago, in a past life so foreign I can barely recall, I made some bad choices in the hopes that I was making good choices for the people I loved.

I froze eggs and embryos with my husband thinking that some day we’d have the money, health and stability to have children.

That day never came. And it’s unlikely to change. My health is what it is and I won’t ever be able to carry them. We’ve spent a small fortune trying to get me healthy enough just to go back to work and being healthy enough to carry just didn’t happen in time.

The high costs of surrogacy are daunting and the extra help I would require to raise them isn’t forthcoming. Being somewhat disabled means I’d need a lot of help and not the kind you can easily pay.

The extended family who does want to help and raise them (not blood family but nevertheless family) has never succeeded in getting a visa approved for so much as a vacation in America. So that route seems rather shut and has remained a small beacon of hope that seems ever less likely.

I could go abroad and raise children near them but that would be admitting defeat on a level on life in America that feels like dying.

My husband wouldn’t be able to come. We have a home and a life and careers in America. Funny how we don’t really have family in America that cares one way or another though all our existing blood relatives are American it’s the extended not quite family that seems to care most about family.

So a day after a socialist won the mayor’s race in New York City I have to ask myself how can we make the suffering of so many feel worthwhile? What did I achieve through my sacrifices? What did America achieve with our choices that can be seen as worthwhile? if those questions cannot be answered I don’t know where America goes from here.

Categories
Biohacking Emotional Work

Day 1765 and Hollowed Out

I’m at home with a freaky red light mask that could absolutely pass for a horror movie prop. My husband is sealed up in a hyperbaric chamber with two atmospheres of pressure and oxygen pumped in through a mask.

It may be Halloween but neither of those activities are horror movie material even though you could easily imagine them featuring as props in a serial killer series or Final Destination.

And yet these are things we are doing for health and wellness. One man’s horror movie is another man’s idea of a good night off and you can really tell we are tired childless adults that this is our idea of winding down on a Friday night.

The childless part wasn’t entirely a choice but we picked lives of professional intensity a long time ago so Friday night spent in self care is a sign that we’ve earned some respite.

Millenial success stories involve long hours. Millennials being all hallowed out on All Hallows’ Eve shouldn’t really come as a surprise to anyone, given the current state of American politics.

I’ve never liked Halloween much as if I want to dress up I don’t need social permission and I really don’t care for parties or socializing. I got all partied out in my twenties when I had to do a ton of it for professional reasons. I know it sounds glamorous but nightlife is work.

I had a tequila client and I had a hotel with the hottest nightclub in the New York City. I somehow managed to have both Patron and Le Bain as a client in my advertising agency era, and while loved both clients it did mean eventually all I can associate with nightlife is work. When I had a night off I stayed at home and read science fiction with a face mask.

Which means some things never change. There is no suburban holiday with children to dress up and take out. And I barely have recollections of doing any of that as a child. It’s no surprise this holiday has no hold on me

I don’t know why I have no fond memories of it but I don’t. I have almost no memories of Halloween. The precious few years in which we lived in suburbs, where I had both parents and I was young enough to go trick or treating barely register. And I don’t feel sad about it

I am much sadder about the kind of world we fought to succeed in as adults. I am happy to be home and with the horror movie treatments to heal the ravages of the real world that have been enacted on both of our bodies.

The long hours over decades, the multiple Covid infections my husband suffered, my own autoimmune issues and the realities of aging are not horrors but they are real. And I acutely am aware that Halloween is pretend.

And nobody should have to pretend that they aren’t hollowed out when they are. That is a fairy tale for children and for the people who still are. Neither category include me. It’s perfectly fine to be tired on a Friday.

If I’m going to put on a mask tonight it damn well better have health benefits. Here is to red light therapy and collagen masks. May they heal what ails you on all hollows eve. You can face the dead and your demons tomorrow.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease

Day 1761 and Give Me A Break

It has not been an easy year for me or my family. The struggle to find a path to a sustainable place of health feels harder than ever.

I am living in some type of thermodynamic hell. Everything I try comes with equally forceful reactions and I wish I could say more of them were positive.

Even when results look positive they have high costs that make me reconsider if I should have done it at all. Switching my immune suppression drug put my inflammatory markers in the best place we’ve seen them in years.

Alas it is so effective that I’ve had four major skin infections in 2025 of which four required going under the knife. And the fourth was caused by a small incision that was considered so safe and routine we almost didn’t consider antibiotics at all.

I just so badly want something to work in a way that doesn’t come with staggeringly high costs. Normally I’d link around to all the relevant posts but I just need a break so I’ll leave it as an exercise.

But can you imagine anything more depressing than having an infection on your ass? I sure can’t. I am stuck trying to keep pressure off of it while working on all the various projects of life and I am a slow healer.

I don’t even get to see if the HBOT is doing anything for my main concerns, as if it is we are only going to see it when I clear this crazy infection.

I suppose the good news is that one of the best treatments for high risk wound care is actually hyperbaric oxygen therapy so the positive and the negative are at least balanced.

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 1759 and Who Are We After Someone’s Death?

They say you shouldn’t make any significant changes after a death in your family. Grieving is a process and allowing oneself to feel the range of emotions in loss is important.

You might not feel your grief if you jump into something new. Making a change could be hiding your grief from yourself. And so I am trying to sit with my grief.

The loss of my father on the last day of the summer was both expected and painful. As I have had to find my own way to grieving, without being part of his memorial, I thought a lot about what life going forward meant as I honored our past and let him go.

I wondered about which parts of my history and my identity gave me my life. If I wanted to make changes in my future, or to broaden my horizons, what would it look like?

How could I be sure I was being true myself in the challenges of my chosen life and true to the deep and complex relationship I had with my father. All these questions arise.

Somehow I am happy. I feel more love for myself as I see the ways I tried to love my father, and how he tried to love me as his child.

Being who we are, means seeing the child in ourselves who wanted to be loved for who they were, while learning as an adult that acceptance is up to us, not the generation who birthed us. The liberation of birth anew.

I hope the many experiments I’ve run with my biohacking over the last two months are helping me stay in my body during this process. I am on my 25th hyperbaric chamber oxygen therapy treatment today. Which is fortunate as I am healing yet another skin issue as I try to find ways to have the strength to be myself in my very challenging body.

And so I wonder, am I the same without my father as I was with him? I am always searching for ways to become better, stronger, more informed, more capable, more successful and ultimately I fear those are all synonymous with finding ways to be more lovable to him? I couldn’t always tell.

I’ve found myself wishing to indulge a past professional calling with a side project. I’ve been writing a beauty shopping column where I go deep on my autistic special interest in skincare and the business of appearances. It’s been making me happy.

I have even decided make a special offer founding members who join my first year as I wish share some of my own happy knowledge. For a nominal fee I’ll build a routine from my cosmetics library and decant and organize the perfect skincare routine optimized exactly for the life you are living.

And so I ask does this count as a change? Am I jumping into something new, even if it is small, too soon?

All I know is that it feels right and like a joyful offering, even if there are parts of me that hurt. Perhaps there is a good kind of change to be had in endings with new beginnings. A personal passion once put aside, reemerges to serve others.

I think that is something my father would have liked to see me do. I have pursued so many of the things I know he wanted for me in this life. I do have a future full of technical change and a portfolio focused on the future of computing.

And yet here I am feeling freed to show that some aspect of who I am as a woman does want to serve others. If it is in the cause of helping be comfortably in your own skin that seems rather a positive thing to become after this life change.

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 1740 and Jungian Archetypal Stories

I woke up resolved to apply fresh energy to the new beginning that has forced me into a cycle of grief as I memorialized my father and worked through his death. It’s been a strange and very sad month.

Jungian archetypal stories such as the symbolically significant “kill your father” narrative are templates and fundamental patterns that appear in dreams, literature and myth.

These stories come from the 12 archetypes of Carl Jung and are meant to show fundamental drives and lessons that repeat across human nature. This chart Perplexity found me illustrates them nicely.

My generation’s parents have been alive, in charge, and looming large well beyond what many expected in traditional generational studies.

The fourth turning has nevertheless begun and scramble to secure position, authority and resources pits the remaining elders against their children.

Clearly this is not optimal and we should find our own Jungian stories to free us to reach our own future without the literal end of our fathers. But if one has to suffer this loss then I’ll make the best of it.