Month: May 2019

Well Played . . .

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This is a Really Real Widow Post.

I took the dog out tonight and the yard was filled with fireflies.

Normally it’s a big deal being that Parker was my firefly and all.

But tonight, it was meh. They were just fireflies.

No Big Deal.

It’s kind of where I am with a lot of my grief. Things that meant a lot are no longer as big of a deal. I’m moving forward. It doesn’t mean I’m leaving her behind, it just means the pain is fading. Unfortunately the memories are fading too.

It’s not all good.

But I stood there and watched while the dog was doing the thing that dogs need to do in the front yard. Trying to look in the right spot while one blinked. Catching them just out of the corner of my eye.

And I realized one was getting closer.

And it landed on the door jam right beside me.

And I smiled.

Well played, Parker.

Well played.

Was It Ever Different

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This is a Really Real . . .Something? . . . Post.

Maybe Relationship.

Maybe Widow.

But no matter what the subject is, it’s Really Real.

You should all know by now that I check Facebook memories and Timehop every single day, without fail. It lets me see how far I’ve come, lets me see the amazing things I’ve done with Wonder Woman and Kidlet and Batwoman, and before that it shows me little gifts in the forms of messages left behind on my wall to and from Parker.

A year ago I was in a partial hospitalization program. I was in a severe mixed mood episode, was both suicidal and manic. Wonder Woman had been staying with me for 2 months but was officially moving her stuff in.

Now, a year later, I’m reading those posts and remembering when we first moved Wonder Woman’s bed into the house and got rid of mine. Remembering all of my stress over the moving happening too fast and not fast enough. Wanting her stuff here now but holy shit her stuff is invading my space and changing the way I live.

It all feels like it’s from another lifetime.

It’s only been a year but it feels like she’s been here forever.

I can’t imagine this house without her shoes (so many shoes) all over the floor in the living room.

I can’t imagine not knowing the recipes I’ve learned to cook because it’s food she likes.

I can’t imagine coming home and not seeing Trillian (her sweet kitty) in the tub.

I can’t imagine waking up or going to bed without cuddles, almost every single time. 

So many cuddles.

But at the same time, I absolutely can imagine the day that this all goes away.

I have, almost the benefit, of knowing that life can change in an instant.

Sorry friends, this is where the sweet sappy post gets grim and dark.

I still check her breathing, I still panic when she’s late, I still wonder who I would call, I still wonder if they would know to call me if she wasn’t home.

I almost can’t imagine a day that she wasn’t here but at the same time I’m constantly aware that any day this could all be taken away.

But I try, so hard, not to live like I know, while always living like I know.

The benefit to widowhood is that I appreciate all of those little things that I mentioned before. I even appreciate things that would have annoyed me in life before death.

I wish everyone could learn the lessons without the loss.

What can you be more appreciative of?

Logistically

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This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.

Today is a day of logistics.

I woke up super early and popped out of bed. I’m definitely feeling better emotionally because I don’t dread the day as soon as I open my eyes.

Another sign that I’m doing better is that I’m working on “doing all the things.” I start an accelerated 6 week college course next week and they opened some of the course work early so I started working on that. I also did more work on plane tickets for an upcoming trip. I scheduled some appointments and also sent off an email asking my primary care NP for a letter of support before she leaves the practice.

Busy, busy, busy.

And if feels much better than sitting around staring at a computer screen scrolling Facebook endlessly.

Unfortunately when I’m stuck in that low grade depression all I really can do is sit and stare at the screen. I can’t find the motivation or interest in anything else. I want to be interested, I really do, but nothing grabs my attention.

Of course, even though I’m interested in doing stuff now, doesn’t mean I can figure out what, exactly I should be doing once I run out of logistical stuff to work through. I want to craft more stuff, but can’t figure figure out what to craft. I can only cook so many dishes. I can only plan meals so far ahead. Only so much school work has been opened.

I could clean more of the house but, lets not get carried away here, I’m not quite that bored.

I did finally color my hair. It was so faded it wasn’t even pastel anymore, it was, well, I’m not sure what it was but it was kinda gross. Now it’s bright and vibrant and you can see me coming from a few miles away.

Now I get to sweat pink and purple at the gym for the next week. I’m always afraid a drip of bright pink is going to run down my face while I’m on the elliptical. That’s the one problem with these bright colors, but I can’t imagine anything but my signature pink and purple.

Have you ever done anything wild with your hair?

Question of the Day: So Misunderstood

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Today’s question is:

What’s the one thing that people always misunderstand about you?

A lot of people think I don’t like them when they first meet me, especially if it’s in a group setting.

I have an amazing case of resting bitch face.

I’m super uncomfortable talking in groups of people until I get to know everyone.

Pair those two together and it looks like I basically hate everyone. Especially since I tend to look people in the eye when they talk. It seriously looks like I’m giving each person the stink eye when really I’m just being attentive to what they’re saying.

I actually make a conscious effort to put a different look on my face when I first enter into a group but it’s easy to lose focus of that once I get engrossed in the ongoing conversation.

What about you?

What’s the one thing that people always misunderstand about you?

Craft a Happier Day

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This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.

I’m having one of those chicken and egg moments. Which came first?

Am I feeling better because I started crafting?

Or was I able to start crafting because I was feeling better?

It’s hard to tell.

Sometime late yesterday evening I pulled myself out of bed and started playing around with the vinyl cutter.  I’ve made quite a few things since then and now I want to make more, more, more!

Eventually I’ll run out of ideas and then maybe I’ll be bummed again, or maybe I’ll pick up one of my other crafts.

I have plenty of supplies but only so many projects. It’s frustrating that I love to craft but have no interest in selling (it takes the joy out of it).  I can only store so many bracelets, vinyl projects, etc and I don’t always feel competent enough to give it away as gifts most of the time.

Anyway, back to the chicken and egg problem.

When I’m depressed, I can’t make myself get involved in this stuff. I can’t even come up with ideas of what to work on. I just have no interest.

Eventually I can force it, and then I can normally run with it.

Maybe that’s because I’m already pulling out of it, and the crafting just helps me come the rest of the way out.

I’m the same way with any activity. When I’m depressed nothing seems interesting, but once I can get something to take hold, it helps me pull my way out.

The gym definitely helped keep me going this past week. I went 6 days out of 7 and feel like I’m back in the groove of that. Batwoman and I sat down today and scheduled this week out as well.

For now I feel like I may be on stable ground, and I hope I can stay here over the next two weeks. This time of year is so, so hard and honestly, I think I’m handling it really well.

Time to go craft a happier day.

 

Question of the Day: On a Boat

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Today’s question is:

What would you name your boat if you had one?

First I did some research on the web, what exactly goes into a boat name.

I consulted this article from esurance.

Apparently it can be almost as complicated as naming your kid! You have to consider safety for ease in relaying the information to the authorities, what the name says about you, and also the gender of the name (boats are generally considered to be female).

So, what would I name my boat.

I think I’d go with something in memory of Parker, honestly.  Maybe, Remembering Her.

I’ll have to think on this one more.

How about you?

What would you name your boat if you had one?

On Edge

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This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.

I just took an Ativan for the first time in I’m not sure how long.

I had an anxiety attack at the after party this evening but I didn’t take one then.

Probably because I never think of them when I’m in the middle of something like that. I’m just thinking of getting the fuck out of whatever situation I’m in.

In that case the situation was ending up at a table full of people I didn’t know because the choice was unknown people or sitting at a high top table, and I have a hard time sitting on those chairs.

#fatpeopleproblems

So I had an anxiety attack and walked out.  Eventually someone I know happened upon me and talked to me long enough that I calmed down and was able to go back in.

I felt like an ass.

But, I didn’t take an Ativan then.

I made it through the after party.

I got a coffee that looked really, really, good.

Because apparently I like making myself more anxious.

And because maybe I’m a dumb ass.

So the whole ride home my anxiety showed up as paranoia. I could see car accidents with every move Wonder Woman made.

And the whole ride home my anxiety showed up as anger. I started finding reasons to be upset. Started thinking up things that could bother me.

I was silently seething while knowing if I opened my mouth a bunch of undeserved rage was going to spill forth.

But I couldn’t reach my purse, so I couldn’t take an Ativan then.

I just kept quiet for the hour ride home, ruminating over all of the things that don’t typically bother me but become perfect targets for my brain to zero in on when I need a reason to be angry.

But when we came into the house I saw all of the things I’ve left undone and started directing the anger towards myself.

The dishes in the kitchen are piled from the sink to the stove. Dinner dishes from last night were just pushed aside so that I could make more dishes this morning.

The trash can is full, with a second brought in for backup.

My kitchen has a mountain of dishes.

My kitchen has a mountain of trash.

I directed the anger inwards and felt myself ready to explode in all directions. I envisioned dishes flying. I could feel a scream building in my lungs.

I just took an Ativan for the first time in I’m not sure how long.

Today was a long day.

I have a bully

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This post resonated with me and I wanted to share it with all of you. Hopefully we can get this bully under control.

Revolutionary Musings

I have to tell you something, I have a bully. It seems like no matter where I am, he is always there to criticize and belittle me and doesn’t pass up an opportunity to make feel worthless.

When I’m doing well, he likes to remind of the mistakes I made in the past, he tells me no one likes me. He tells me I’ll never make friends and I have no worth whatsoever.

When I’m doing well, he likes sneer and say it won’t last and that I don’t deserve the good things in life and that any praise is just a veiled insult because no one anywhere is my friend, he says no one cares about me.

He tells me that I’m the only one who feels this way and it’s funny to him; that I feel alone. He says don’t tell anyone how you feel because they’ll just…

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Question of the Day: Personal Olympics

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Today’s question is:

If you could turn any activity into an Olympic sport, what would you have a good chance at winning a medal for?

I really would make this easier on myself if I picked questions that I could answer without too much introspection.

If it didn’t have to be an activity, I would pick resilience because I have gotten back on my metaphorical feet more times than I can count, but the question asks specifically for an activity.

Hmm.

Seriously, it’s like, 10 minutes later and I’m still thinking about this.

Part of the problem is that I’m determined not to pick something that’s a veiled put down. I’m not going to go for the quick and dirty ones like “napping” or “procrastination” or some other thing that isn’t really a skill. (Although I wish I had the ability to really nap instead of cat nap.)

I want to pick something I’m actually good at, because I do have talents and I deserve to pat myself on the back for them.

I have a hard time with that concept.

I spend far too much time putting myself down and belittling my strengths.

Oooooh, I’ve got it!

Being a homemaker.

I could win an Olympic medal for being a homemaker.

But not because I have the cleanest house (believe me, I don’t, it’s a cluttered clusterfuck most of the time), or because dinner is like something from a 5 star restaurant, or because the laundry baskets are always empty.

I could win a medal because I enjoy it and because I’m always striving to take care of the people I love through taking care of our environment, and feeding us amazing food, and making sure we have clean clothes to wear.

I could win a medal because it’s the way I show love, and I have so much love to show.

Awwww, I got all mushy-gushy lovey-dovey.

So, what about you? Think outside of the box and try not to put yourself down.

If you could turn any activity into an Olympic sport, what would you have a good chance at winning a medal for?