Featuring The Great Pumpkin™, The Cryptid Caravan, and one medically necessary amount of emotional support salmon.

Content Note: Chronic illness, disability, medical trauma, emotional overwhelm, driving anxiety after car accidents, survival language, and discussions of autonomy/independence. Gentle grounding included.

Welcome to The Den

Welcome to The Crippled Cryptid.
Disability. Chronic illness. Service dogs. Survival without the performance.

If you’re new here, hi. I’m Sky.

Professional cryptid. Unwilling amateur cyborg.
Writer. Advocate. Human being with a medical chart that reads like a horror anthology.

Most days are lived in a haunted meat suit with a questionable warranty and a long-standing feud with my nervous system.

I cope with sarcasm, snacks, and building something honest in a world that really prefers things to be tidy and inspirational.

This week?

We’re running on electrolytes, coffee, and nervous energy.

The coffee’s gone lukewarm again, because of course it has.

🐾 Luna Note: Mama forgets coffee exists approximately 14 times per day. Tragic honestly.

But Thursdays…

Thursdays are quieter.

What This Space Is (And Isn’t)

This isn’t a rant.
This isn’t a report.

This is a check-in.

With me.
With you.
With the Den.

Because this space was never meant to be one-sided.

It’s a place to exist together. To talk. To be seen without performing wellness. Without pretending things are okay when they aren’t.

No inspiration porn.
No forced positivity.
No gold stars for suffering silently.

Just honesty.

Even when it’s messy.
Even when it’s a little feral around the edges.

🐾 Luna Note: Forced positivity is suspicious behavior. We trust snacks and honesty in this house.

The Creatures Who Keep Me Here

I spend a lot of time in Bed Jail™, but I’m rarely alone.

There’s Luna.

My medical alert service dog.
Guardian. Enforcer. Service Dingo™. Best Girl™.

Lately… she’s been hovering.

Part of me thinks that’s because last week was her big celebration.

Her Adoptiversary. Two whole years.

And we went all in.

Salmon on the 11th. (The Official Adoptiversary but, we turned the whole week into a celebration honestly.)
A brand new ball.
Visits from my dad. -even if I’m still getting used to that, and will 100% keep calling him by name to his face.
(Does that make him a Grandpaw?)
And our good friend Jeremy.

And cookies from Reese’s. Because of course there were cookies from Reese’s.

So, it’s fair to say she’s feeling all of the love.

The kind that feels intentional. Focused. Persistent.

Watching me closer than usual.
Sticking to me like she’s personally offended by the idea of me being unsupervised.

🐾 Luna Note: Correct. Supervision required. Patient prone to wandering off mentally while physically standing in the kitchen holding shredded cheese.

The kind of presence that says:

“Something’s not right, and I’m not letting you ignore it.”

She’s been right before.

(Annoyingly often.)

Then there’s M&M.

My Player 2. My soft place to land.

Currently in their “please sit down and stop being stubborn” era.

They keep reminding me the house doesn’t need to be perfect.

I, unfortunately, remain deeply committed to pretending it does.

That instinct… the “I’ll just push through it” reflex?

It kept me alive once.

I’m trying to learn the difference between surviving and staying safe now.

Even old Cryptids can learn new tricks.

🐾 Luna Note: I learned “leave it.” Mama can learn “sit down.” We all grow.

After the Noise Settles

Joy can still exhaust you.

I think people forget that sometimes.

Even good things cost energy.

Especially when you live in a body that keeps detailed receipts.

The crash after excitement is still a crash.
That doesn’t make the joy less real.

It just means the nervous system doesn’t always distinguish between “good overwhelming” and “bad overwhelming.”

And this week?

I think I felt all of it at once.

The Actual Check-In

Alright.

No dodging.
No “I’m fine, but…” escape hatches.

If it doesn’t work for me, it’s not going to work for you either.

So, tell me:

How are you doing… really?

You’re allowed to be honest here.

You are not a burden for having feelings.
You are not “too much” for existing in a hard body or a hard life.

Take a breath with me.

In for four.
Hold.
Out for six.

Again.

Unclench your jaw.
Drop your shoulders.
Get some water.

🐾 Luna Note: Hydration status remains under investigation. Please acquire emotional support beverage. I’ll wait.

Mama will tell you that I’m very, very good at waiting.

Where I’m At

Okay, guys and ghouls and everyone in-between…

Here goes nothing.

This past week has been… a lot.

A lot of emotional whiplash.
A lot of movement.
A lot of feeling like my brain got tossed into a dryer cycle labeled “good luck, idiot.”

Luna’s 2-year Adoptiversary was huge.

And I wanted it to be perfect.

The new ball.
The cookies.
The salmon.
The visits from our favorite people.

Her Pack.
Her friends.
Her loved ones.

My people.

And if you know me, you know I don’t use those words lightly.

Getting to see my dad was special. Even if calling him “dad” still feels a little strange out loud after all these years. Writing it here is easier than saying it to his face. To his face, I’ll probably still use his first name for a while. Probably forever.

Writing this has convinced me though, I’ll probably get him an obnoxious “Grandpaw” t-shirt for Christmas from Luna Bean.

Healing is weird like that sometimes.

And getting to spend time with Jeremy while he was in town?

That mattered too.

The kind of moments that remind you your world is still bigger than your illness.

And then…

There was Tuesday.

Tuesday was emotional.
Draining.
Wild.

And honestly, if I hadn’t spent most of the day signing my name so many times that my signature started looking fake even to me, I probably would’ve come home and written a whole separate post about it.

Don’t tempt me though.

Because Tuesday might deserve its own chapter.

Enter: The Great Pumpkin™

Or, as she is formally known:

The Cryptid Caravan.

A Mojave Orange 2019 Jeep Renegade Trailhawk.

Mine.

And you know what that means?

Your ghoul is no longer relying on Uber.

No longer relying on people who don’t show up, show up late, or think “defensive driving” means checking Youtube shorts at stoplights.

I can go where I want when I want.
I can go where I need to when I need to.

And if there’s an emergency?
We can go.

And that matters.

People talk about independence like it’s vanity.
For disabled people, sometimes it’s access to our own lives.

🐾 Luna Note: Independence also means easier access to drive-thru nuggets and pup-cups. This is what experts call “mutual benefit.”

Yesterday, we took The Great Pumpkin™ out for groceries.

Real groceries.

Not Instacart roulette.

Not “please let this stranger know how to identify edible produce.”

Not opening the app to discover 75% of your order has mysteriously vanished into the void alongside every substitution you picked.

We got to choose our own meat.
Pick our own sales.
Grab extra cheese because surprise cheese sales are a sacred event.

And that’s a luxury we lost for seven months.

One I genuinely didn’t know if I’d ever get back.

After being off the road that long, part of me worried I’d never drive again.

And the truth is?

I’m still a little jumpy.

A little cautious.
A little slower than I used to be.

But I would rather move carefully than end up in another terrifying situation.

I’ve had two people total my cars in three years. Because they were careless.

I don’t want a third.

🐾 Luna Note: We do not rush. We arrive alive. Important distinction.

And yes, there will absolutely be a dash cam going into this one.

I already have it in my possession.

I just need somebody willing to wrestle technology on my behalf.

Honestly, I’m thinking about asking my brother to install it.

For You, Wherever You’re At

If this week is kicking your ass, I see you.

If you’re barely holding it together…

That still counts as holding it together.

If things feel heavy, you don’t have to carry it alone here.

And if things are good?

You’re allowed to say that too.

Without guilt.
Without apology.

Joy does not make you selfish.
Relief does not make you ungrateful.

There is room for all of it here.

Even if you don’t have the words today.

You still showed up.

And that matters more than people give it credit for.

The Door Is Open

If you want to talk, my DMs are open.

No pressure.
No expectations.

Just… open.

If all you’ve got is a couple pawprint emojis because you need some extra Luna love?

I’ve got you.

I am fully stocked on soft, sleepy, absolutely devastatingly cute Luna photos this week.

Or I have plenty of videos of the ball goblin from her Adoptiversary if that’s more your taste.

No words required.

🐾 Luna Note: Den remains operational. Blanket reserves stable. Emotional support available while supplies last.

The Den’s still here.

So am I.

So are you.

I hope the rest of your week is kinder to you than the beginning was.

I’m really glad you’re here.

I mean that.

Love you.

Yeah, I said it first.

Your turn.

🐾 Luna Note: Mama says she loves you. I say you should probably also have a snack and unclench your jaw.

-Sky

© The Crippled Cryptid
Disability. Honesty. A little chaos.
(But softer today. With a little more hope than usual.)

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