My last week at LHA felt somewhat anticlimactic. It was disappointing and relieving at the same time. Disappointing because I didn't want this internship to end, especially since I didn't get what I had planned out of it. Relieving because I am so disabled by my severe ME/CFS that performing the work was hurting me. Disappointing that I would feel any sort of relief about this ending. It was also comforting because I spoke to my LHA coordinators about the struggles I’d had the week before, referenced in my last post, and was met with empathy and kindness. That was exciting—especially because I want to continue my relationship with LHA—and so was finishing up my work with the finding aids. It felt good to help and to learn lesbian/queer history as I did so. But that goodness exists in a soup with everything else. I am trying not to feel disappointed in myself—it feels ironic to battle internalized ableism as I can still hear my interviewees' voices, their stories about pushing sick bodies to their limits.