Hi everyone! I hope this message finds you on a bright morning. If we haven't met, I'm miriam j. anastasi, a 28y/o woman living in Portland, OR. You might have known me as a DIY musician, writer, poet, mother to a perfect six-year-old rabbit, library-worker, photographer, game designer, preschool teacher, feminist zinester, love witch, neighbor, vegan, acquaintance, ally in recovery, &/or friend...

What you might not know is that lately I've been recovering from complications of a condition called hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS). Both of my wrists have had injuries called subluxations; I've had limited use of both hands and been unable to work since October of last year.

hEDS affects every system in the body, but the most pronounced symptoms for me have been joint instability, respiratory issues, and chronic pain. I didn't understand that I likely had the condition until recently; I experienced bouts of chronic pain throughout my 20s and assumed everyone also felt this way most of the time. I'm still pursuing diagnosis; when I brought up my concerns, they would often be misunderstood or dismissed by doctors; the way women's pain is minimized systemically leads many of us to numb ourselves to our own bodies and symptoms. I would often miss work due to pain. When I would run out of sick days, I would struggle to get through shifts on days my baseline pain was a 7/10, and I would wonder why everyone else was just better at ignoring or masking it. I worked on my feet most hours and spent a large portion of my break time finding quiet corners to lay down in as my pain spiked. It's taken a lot of persistent love and care from my support network to recognize the reality of what I'm experiencing and to learn to ask for help. I'm so grateful for everyone who has had my back throughout the process.

When I think about how minority stress makes its home in the body, how the marginalized are often more vulnerable to economic and relational instability and its corresponding traumas, how many of us are seen as disposable and how this manifests across our lifetimes somatically, how continuous stress triggers auto-immune conditions and erodes the body’s ability to mend itself, not to mention the climate of persistent COVID denialism: it's hard not to see disability as part of a broader framework of biopolitics, of the state's ability to govern who lives and who dies, as an axis of oppression worth organizing around and getting curious about how to resist together. It's been isolating, but my experience isn't unique. It's connected me to other people. It's common.

A bit more information about my situation:

In October 2025 I was referred to an occupational therapist for my pain who discovered I had injuries called subluxations in both of my wrists. The cartilage sheaths that keep my tendons in place had been torn, and my tendons were freely popping in and out of place, causing severe swelling and pain. For treatment both of my arms were placed in big white casts called orthotics and I was instructed to use them as little as possible until the cartilage healed; I'm just now beginning the delicate process of strength training, as the supporting muscles in both of my arms have atrophied and they must be taught to support their own weight again. It's been a wild process. It’s still uncertain when/how I'm going to be able to return to work and if I’m going to need surgery.

I've been doing my best to navigate Oregon's benefits systems—including the disability insurance I'm fortunate to have access to as a county employee—but it has not been enough to make ends meet, and the bills are piling up. My benefits have fluctuated constantly and are significantly less than I made at my job with the library, usually barely enough to cover rent. I've had to take on debt to afford groceries and other necessities. Facing this much financial instability on top of the heartache of disability has been challenging, to say the least. This is why I'm asking for help!

The systems of late capital we live under in America are built to isolate and demoralize us. I've spent the last year and a half building the vision it takes to survive in this day and age and doing my best to share it with the people in my life. I think love is worth fighting for. I think suffering can be a catalyst for change. I think we live in a world worth celebrating and grieving for and protecting. I’d like to get strong enough to pick my guitar back up and record this doom metal record I’ve been sitting on for ages and play some shows and keep crafting weird fiction and poetry and folk songs for lovers and fighters. Thank you for believing in me, for any support you are able to lend.

I hope if you are able to contribute, you also consider sending funds to families affected by ICE in Portland and others impacted by colonialism the world over, who are feeling the hurt right now.

In love and solidarity—please, keep loving one another—

miriam j. anastasi

tuesday june 16, 2026