Accepting my chronic illness isn’t some inspirational meme shit. It means knowing and accepting that a lot of my time is not going to be ‘productive’ or ‘valuable.’ That my body is not the kind of body valued and consumed by our culture anymore.
It’s letting go of everything you thought meant something about your ‘self.’ And it’s fucking terrifying because what are you if you have no value in a hierarchical system that judges you and categorizes you based on how valuable you are (how well your body fits in the beauty and health system, what kind of work you do for others to profit from, etc.)? You have to figure that out. You’re in the real frontier. Be careful you don’t just appropriate someone else’s land, struggle, oppression. Find your own way, your own place somewhere beyond ‘value.’ Value is just a convenient way of converting you, your body, your work into $ for someone else to take. We don’t even know how to talk about the things we do, the bodies we do them with, without using that term or something related.
People read Marx and think of factory work, of profit off of that labor. But it’s about profit off of every aspect of our lives. Every move we make with these bodies or don’t make is money for someone else. You think you own your body until you’re ill, then you begin to understand that it was never yours and maybe you can do something about that by not doing anything with this body that refuses. This body that is simultaneously worthless and invaluable.