Why I stopped Writing - The Truth

Dear Sparkly Friends,

Have I mentioned lately that I love you? Because I do, and I don’t say it enough. You’ve helped keep me afloat these past three years of...well, not silence, but...let’s say muffled screaming. There’s no way I can sugar coat it. It’s been Hell. No exaggeration, there were dark times that I questioned if, years before, I had been successful in a suicide attempt, and what I was experiencing was the likes of Annie’s fate in “What Dreams May Come.” Except, I was even more screwed because I died without marrying my soulmate, so I was just stuck there forever, in a nightmare-loop.

What could possibly open this lovely piece with such pleasant thoughts? Well, I’ve essentially been imprisoned in a basement with little sunlight for the past three years, sometimes only getting fresh air once a month for the minimum possible medical care. Did I mention I haven’t had dental care in twelve years? You all know by now what my conditions* are or have some passing familiarity with them, but how did I end up like this? *(physically. I am also Autistic...)

Long story short, for medical reasons, I had to move back to Chicago. It made sense to be near family while trying to get my spinal stimulator surgery. The only place they could “put me” was a basement apartment in a property they own. To say the least, it’s inaccessible in most ways you can imagine, and any semblance of a life I once had, I lost. I lost what made me a person.

This entry would get inexplicably long going through the horrors of late 2015 to the present, and honestly, it would just be retraumatizing. I tried my best to fill it with good, and I survived. That’s what counts. I’m here.

Better yet, my family is supporting me today in a way I never expected. They are buying me a condo that is accessible for me. I am going to have the life I never thought was possible again. Things are already exponentially improving. I bought myself a new Purple mattress on a loan to ease the agony my old mattress perpetrated. (because that thing was criminal…)

Some of you donated money to help me get an ergonomic desk and chair. I put the rest on a credit card, and now, I have a real place to sit without being caused significant pain by the thing I am sitting on. It’s how I’m able to write this, concentrate, and be pretty happy about it. (reminding you again that you are amazing, and I am blessed you are here…)

For the first time in years, I am genuinely looking forward to the future. I can be creative and focus on FrillAbility again. I have a day job doing what I love. (museum education!) It goes to say, my suicide attempt in 2012 was unsuccessful, and I am eternally grateful God spared me. I am grateful for everyday I survive KTS, and God gives me another day on this Earth. Insha’Allah, I’ll have many more.

There’s so much that I want to do. I don’t want to get your hopes up because I don’t have it all figured out yet. It’s overwhelming but pretty marvelous. Just know that I’m here, and expect content regularly. Remember, you can see me most often on Instagram, but I am excited to be writing and creating videos too!

Love and Light,

Sorel Estrada Volpe

P.S. I love seeing your chronically fabulous adventures, especially when you love something you've bought from my shop! Use my tags #frillability and #makegoodwithyourability on Instagram to be part of the conversation.