Forgets The Blood

History remembers the battle, but forgets the blood.

-Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

My favorite quote from a book. Is it a ridiculous book? Yes, obviously, but… it’s a good quote. It’s a true quote.

Let’s extrapolate.
I can tell you what I know about WWII… but I cannot relate to you the buckets of blood spilled during it on all sides (something like 80 million lives). I can tell you that around 40 million people died in World War I, but you and I cannot really fathom such a number. I can say that 45,000 people in the US committed suicide in 2016, but that number doesn’t reflect the weight of what happened. Just last year 58 people died in the Las Vegas shooting by Mandalay Bay, and 851 were injured, but while that event rocked the whole US and gave us all pause, I fly out to Vegas on Thursday evening for my 30th birthday.

You see, as soon as something isn’t happening, it’s not real anymore.

This is true in your own life. At least… I know it’s true in mine. I’m finally at a place where everything with me, emotionally, is kind of okay. I’m not depressed. I’m learning to do things I used to love doing. I’m able to invest time in a relationship I’m happy with. I don’t want to sleep until I die… Things are better than they’ve been in a really long time. While it was only a few months ago that I was so incredibly low I didn’t even know what to do with myself, I’ve already forgotten how that felt. Yes, I can tell you I was depressed, that I felt tired all the time, that nothing brought me joy, that I binge-ate all the time just to feel a satisfied fullness, that I thought I might be better off dead, that I gave up things I loved because nothing mattered, that I neglected myself in exchange for taking care of my animals, and that I was barely living (more like surviving). When I think about that, though, I don’t feel the agony I know I felt then. I can’t put myself back there.

I’ve fought really hard to get where I am, and I know that. Still, when I think about it, I’m like “that wasn’t so hard.” It was. It was the hardest shit I’ve gone through in my whole life. I know that, but I can’t FEEL that. You know? I remember the battle, but I’ve forgotten the blood. So much blood.

My point is… if your meds seem off, it’s worth getting them adjusted. You’ve forgotten the blood.

Started Cymbalta today. Shrink is trying to get me off Effexor. It’s making me reflective… also sleepy.

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My Cervix Hurts

I had to go get a pap smear today. I haven’t had one since 2015. Why? Because I fail them. I’ve been getting them since I was 12 and I’ve failed all but 1. It gets annoying. It gets frustrating and depressing… so I just stopped. But, you can’t dodge that forever, especially when your family runs RAMPANT with cancer.

So I went, and it was a surreal kind of experience.

When I previous went to my doctor, several things were standard at the well woman physical. The nurse would try to pry information on my entire sexual history out of me. (Which I still don’t get. Who I was fucking before my 2.5 year celibacy break does NOT effect my current sexual health.) I’d take a pregnancy test. My birth control would be held hostage until I came in for the pap smear. My doctor would remind me that this was all for my well being.

A Kaiser well woman is a lot…. less. Just less. I went in. They took vitals, as usual, and then we did a quick breast exam and a pelvic exam, followed by a Gardasil shot. THAT’S IT. Now… I don’t say a lot of good things about Kaiser, because I hate them and I’d like to set their corporation on fire from the inside out, but this was great. No interrogation. No suspicion of pregnancy. In and out. Easy peasy.

But… as always… my cervix hurts and I’m probably going to fail the pap… so that’s no good, but whatever.

Chris was a real sweetheart about this, cuz I was complaining and then had a panic attack in the doctor’s office… and he was his usual suspiciously supportive self. He assured me that if anything was wrong “WE” would get through it and get it fixed, and then he told me about his Magic Tournament this weekend to distract me. He’s great. I love how great he is. I love him. It’s gross.


In other news.

Someone asked me to describe what living with mental illness is like. Here’s my metaphor.

It’s like… you’re the paste eating kid in grade school.

Everyone knows something is up with you, but can’t always figure out what it is until an incident. Then they know, and they treat you different for it. Sometimes it’s mockery, sometimes it’s avoidance, sometimes it’s lectures and repercussions, sometimes it’s someone telling you to just stop… but even if you get better and you move on with life, there will always be the people who know what happened, and they’ll tell other people, and you’re the kid that ate paste for the rest of your life…

The longer you go without eating paste, the more you can laugh at it, the less other people will know, and the less people who know will talk about it. But you always know you’re the kid that ate paste… and you always live with that shame, even though it wasn’t something you meant to do.

If you don’t get better… you’re always the weirdo that eats paste, no matter what else you do. You could cure cancer, and you’ll still be remembered for paste… it’s always going to be a footnote in a textbook about you… “They cured cancer! But also they ate paste… so… think about that.”

Steps Backwards

So.
I have high blood pressure.

My mom has high blood pressure and I’m incredibly fat and inactive… so, it’s not like this is unexpected or anything. What was unexpected is how stressful high blood pressure can be.

Let’s bullet this real quick.

  • So, I saw a shrink. She put me on Effexor. She requested some blood work.
  • My primary saw the blood work and wanted to talk about it, as well as just see me for the first time, since I finally picked a Kaiser doc.
    • My blood pressure at that appointment was high. She asked me to come back in like a month to recheck that it’s okay, because I thought it might be White-coat Hypertension. I don’t like doctors.
  • Before that recheck I saw my shrink again, just to see how I’m doing. I was doing great. Felt lots better. Started exercising. Woke up feeling pretty good on the daily. Wanted to increase just a little for weird depressive episodes.
    • Shrink had a nurse take my blood pressure since she saw it was high at my last doc visit, and Effexor CAN increase blood pressure.
    • My blood pressure was hella high. Like, to the point the nurse asked if I was having chest pain.
    • She got a higher ranking nurse to take it to confirm.
    • Blood pressure spooked my shrink, so she cut back the Effexor and gave me Wellbutrin.
  • Went to my blood pressure check.
    • Blood pressure was crazy high.
    • Nurse got panicky look and went to get higher ranking nurse to confirm again.
  • Doc scheduled me for an EKG and started me on Procardia.
  • Go to EKG. Take mom for moral support.
  • LPN is nutzo.
    • Can’t find the EKG order.
    • Tells me I don’t need to be there cuz it’s prolly White-coat Hypertension.
    • Brings me a 10XL gown to put on.
      • I’m fat, but I’m not THAT fat.
      • #bedsheet
    • EKG is fine. No damage to heart.
  • Take Procardia, Wellbutrin, and reduced dose of Effexor.
    • Feel bad.
    • Hard time waking up.
    • Very tired.
  • Get tired at work, so bosslady sends me to Rite Aid to check my BP.
    • BP is 183/123 according to machine.
    • Panic.
  • Mom takes me to Kaiser to have a nurse check my BP in case Imma have heart attack.
    • Nurse is cute guy named Joe.
    • BP is fine. 130-something / 80-something.
    • Advised that home devices and public machines are inaccurate.
      • For best results, sit for at least 5 minutes before taking BP.
  • Email Shrink about tiredness after mental breakdown over frittata.
    • It’s Effexor withdrawal.
    • Prescribes smaller pills.
      • Week 1: 1.5 pills
      • Week 2: 1 pill
      • Week 3: 0.5 pill
      • Week 4: Stop Effexor
    • Should help withdrawal.
    • Wait.
      • We’re stopping Effexor?
        • Not what I thought was happening.
      • Are we going to increase the Wellbutrin?
      • What if the Wellbutrin doesn’t work?
      • Panic.
      • Sadness.

And that brings us to today.

I picked up the pills… so I was up to 75mg… She knocked me down to half a pill (37.5mg) and added half a pill of Wellbutrin. So then she called in 37.5mg pills of Effexor, and I’m to take 1.5 of them this week to combat tiredness and withdrawal. Then decrease till I’m off Effexor.

That’s fine, I guess… but I feel like we’re moving backwards. I was doing great on Effexor. I’m on blood pressure meds now. The only up I’m seeing with Wellbutrin so far is that I don’t have the urge to smoke, even though I’ve been stressed out and sad. Great! But I’m supposed to be on vacation next week and I was really hoping to feel motivated to live so I can get some shit I wanna do, done. Right now I just want to sleep and cry. I’ve wanted to sleep and cry for years and I was finally kind of out of it, and now… we’re back here…

So I emailed my shrink… and asked when we’ll be increasing the Wellbutrin… because maybe it’ll work. It’s fine, if it works, but I am not currently fine. I had a freak out yesterday over cutting tomatoes… It was daunting, TO THE POINT OF TEARS, to cut tomatoes to put in a cake pan with eggs. That’s not better. That’s some shit I’d do before I started Effexor.

I feel very discouraged… I dunno what to do other than try to trust my shrink, but I’m not… great… at trusting mental health professionals…

In better news, I’ve lost some weight. Not a noticeable amount of weight, but 5lbs in 8 days. So, that’s good. I’m trying to keep up on exercising. Mom and I have been walking the dogs around the block a few times every night… we can’t go far cuz she’s still on oxygen at home, and all of us are out of shape, dogs included, but we’re doing SOMETHING. We didn’t go last night cuz of the freak out and general fatigue, but I did force myself to get on my stationary bike. I made it 12 minutes before my legs felt like they were going to explode… It’s not impressive, but it’s not bad for my first time in months.

I just… want to get better… Why is getting better so hard?

If I feel better, I can take better care of myself.
Not sad = can exercise & less binge eating.
Can exercise = will exercise. Less binging = less caloric intake.
Exercise + less calories = weight loss.
Weight loss = better heart health & better mood.
Repeat as needed.

But… that’s just not where I’m at right now.

Purple Spots

Kaiser is so fucking weird. Last time I wanted to see a shrink it took THREE MONTHS before I could get in… and I was really worried I wasn’t gonna make it that long. Today I called to get in and they’re like, “we could get you in with the shrink you saw last time early next week, but if you wanna see a new shrink we can get you in first week of April.” Really? Just two weeks? And it’s only that long because I didn’t want to see the same shrink I saw last time (as she is dead to me after her blatant disregard of my disdain for sedative medication).

Anyways… I get to see a new shrink! So… that’s fine. I mean, life’s been bad, and getting worse, but I’m having a weirdly good day for someone who didn’t sleep last night. I tried really hard, but yesterday was super hella blue.

Let’s backup.

Monday.
I made it into work, but on the way home I was just… defeated as fuck. We’re still down a biller, I’m training three new people, and the title gal went on vacation this week because she’s moving. I cried all the way home, and my mom encouraged me to go to my book club even though I was super blue. So, I bought some cigarettes, chain-smoked the whole way there, and actually had a really good time. I really enjoyed the book this month: Annihilation. It was really Lovecraftian, and I flew through it. I started book two when I got home from book club, and it’s really different, but I think I’ll finish the series anyways.

Tuesday.
For the first time in my life I found getting out of bed almost impossible. I’ve had low days, but Tuesday is one of the lowest days I’ve had since all this mood swinging like a wrecking ball started in eighth grade. I managed to get out of bed, and even shower, but then I couldn’t imagine leaving the house. It was 100% outside of the realm of things I was physically capable of doing. So, I called bosslady and told her I had a cough and issues breathing, and asked if I could work from home. I wasn’t opposed to working, but I just… couldn’t leave the house. I actually got a lot done from home, and it was fortunate I’d brought stuff home anyways. #YayRemoteAccess

Wednesday.
Hump Day was hard. I woke up, and I was determined to get into work, but I ended up about an hour late. I informed bosslady, obviously, and she knows I’m having problems, so she said that was fine, and that I could leave early. I did not leave early. I had some kind of mixed episode where I was pretty much hysterical but channeled it into trying to do EVERYTHING at once… and it literally startled bosslady. She tried to get me to go home at four, and I ended up staying a full eight hours “because there’s too much to get done.” But like… I was breaking…

So I went home. Mom had me try on some clothes she got me for Easter, to be sure they were the right size. I went home and refused to eat dinner… meditated on the idea that maybe I just wouldn’t eat again… and how last time I lost a lot of weight in a short period of time no one was concerned, because when you’re a fat girl that stops eating, or exercises herself to death, or binges and purges, people think the weight loss is great and no one asks how you lose 30 lbs in a few weeks. With my head spinning and my stomach feeling familiarly vacuous, I couldn’t focus on TV, so I played a few rounds of Star Realms before heading to bed with a book. Figured I’d wind down for an hour and be asleep by ten.

I was not asleep by ten. I was very awake. I put on white noise and laid in the dark for an hour. When the white noise shut off, I was still awake. So I turned on all the lights, got up, did a few things, turned on a fan and the humidifier, and then laid back down with some soft lo-fi hip hop to relax to. An hour later I was still awake and I had this pop song called RIIICH stuck in my head. It was annoying.

I tried thinking STOP STOP STOP or SLEEP SLEEP SLEEP, I counted sheep, I tried sleeping on the floor, I tried sleeping sitting up, I tried meditation, I took a 30 mg temazepam, I opened the window, I turned everything off… I got up and went downstairs, and in the dark biked on the hardest setting until my legs ached in an attempt to wear myself out. I was still awake… and all I wanted to do was sleep… and it broke me.

I’m not new to self harm or various creative ways to do it, but this was the first time I got so angry that I pretty much beat myself into submission. I slapped myself in the face, hit myself upside the head, punched and smacked my thighs till they burned, screamed, cried, and when it was all said and done I took to this weird game I’d played as a kid. I don’t remember why, but when we were kids there was some game where the punishment was someone hitting you with two or three fingers on your wrist or forearm. Every time my brain tried to think, after I laid back down, I’d hit myself on the arm. By the time I had calmed down, my arm ached like I’d slammed it in a door. This morning I woke up and thought it would be all kinds of colors, cuz it still hurt. Fortunately for me, it was just splotched purple. Still hurts like a bitch, though. There’s a definite swollen spot, but it’s not noticeable to anyone except me.

I never did sleep, I don’t think. I just managed a general nothingness till the alarm went off this morning. The dogs were concerned, but they are regrettably used to this kind of behavioral outburst. I hate that they’re used to it…

Thursday.
For someone that went totally batshit crazy and didn’t sleep, I’ve had a weirdly good day. I put on a nice purple sweater and cute boots. I’ve been very pleasant at work. I had a breakfast burrito and then meatloaf for lunch, in case you’re worried I didn’t eat today. I’m planning on Schlotsky’s for dinner, and I’d really like to maybe finish one of my books I’m reading tonight, but also get in some Star Realms time. I bought a ticket to a concert for tomorrow night, too.

Am I manic? I dunno. I’m terribly unfocused, but I’m not hyper, optimistic, or particularly chatty. I’ve just been enjoying my new playlist (and I took RIIICH off all but one playlist) and having a moderately pleasant day. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fine a little bit of happiness in every time my arm taps something and I get a small shock of new pain amidst the constant ache. I’m sure that’s some secret to my good mood… some messed up bipolar thing.

I’m not even tired… I’m just disinterested in work today. It’s super weird, and all of this isn’t LOST on me. I can only hope that I sleep tonight and the mood continues.

Anyways….

I’m gonna go see this pdoc and see what she says in a couple weeks. I don’t wanna take anymore antipsychotics, though… and I have always said I didn’t want to take Lithium… so I don’t know what they might give me. I’m willing to negotiate, but I really want a shrink to listen to me. There are side effects I can’t tolerate (like falling asleep at work), and I need to be respected when it comes to that.

So. We’ll see.

The Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

I found a new band / song that I must listen to until I hate it.

I’ve been hanging out in the blue a lot… things haven’t gotten better at work… things aren’t better in my life, either… I can’t always keep up the optimism… and that really just adds to the feeling that I’m failing, even though I’m working as hard as I can on things in life.

I started writing a book. Scifi novel. I gotta get back on it before I’m away from it too long. I think it’s gonna be a good one if I can get it all down. Writing is a new hobby for me… but I think it could be therapeutic. I got a lot of feelings… maybe I can get some out via my novel.

I put my stationary bike together! But I haven’t ridden it yet… maybe tomorrow… I’d like to do it. I’m just so tired…

I dunno… life is hard right now… but… when is it not?

Guys, We Didn’t Talk About Resolutions

January has been crap, but my number one resolution for this year is TRYING to stay positive. I have a fun little positivity book I’m supposed to update daily and everything. I’m not updating daily… but I’m trying.

Other resolutions:

  • No internet dating
    • Read: {embrace that I’m not emotionally available to anyone}
  • Exercise more
    • Read: {be able to walk around without having an asthma attack}
  • Eat better
    • Read: {stop binge eating Chipotle when I’m sad}
  • Spend Less
    • Read: {stop buying art supplies, books, and Coca Cola on the daily}
  • Hydrate
    • Read: {drink something besides Coke and Sweet Tea}

So, I decided to cut internet dating because it doesn’t work and it makes me feel bad about myself. Also, though, I don’t make it easy for people to get to know me or even talk to me. I’m abrasive, closed off, and historically I prefer to make boys cry than let them violate me. So, I think in my year of preparation for being 30 (because 30 is death when you’re a woman, you know /s) I should just deal with that. I know who I am, and I know that I’m fine being alone, but I’ve grown so accustomed to the pursuit of a significant other that life without internet dating, even as terrible as it is, feels new and different. And I could definitely use some new and different in my life.

My ultimate goal with exercising and eating better is weight loss, and ideally I know I want to get back to high school weight (which is still fat, btw… like 60 lbs overweight still) but I don’t want to pin myself down to that number. I want to be able to walk without getting winded and I want to feel better physically more than I want to wear a certain size or see a certain number on the scale. I’m excited for my stationary bike to get here, because I’m motivated to do a thing. (It’s so rare that I’m motivated to do ANYTHING.) It’s supposed to come at the beginning of February. My mom also got me an Instant Pot for working so hard, so I’m excited to see what I can make with it and hopefully manage my caloric intake/expenditure better. I have this tendency to make everything about my weight, and while I am ENORMOUS (I’m not gonna sugar coat it, cuz then I might eat it) {as a fat person I get to make fat jokes guilt free} these resolutions aren’t inherently about my weight: they are about my health and my sense of well-being.

I finally got to really test out my Instant Pot that mothership got me, and I’m living for it. Today I made supa bomb green chili steak with rice and black beans, an amazing chicken soup, and a veggie side dish thing that’s essentially broccoli and cauliflower rice with peas and corn cooked in sofrito. It’s intended to be a side to whatever I make for dinner the next couple of days, which will probably be some chicken or fake turkey roast (Quorn brand non-meats are just tasty, y’all.)

Spending less is a resolution I often have, because I live in a comfortable debt. I have a mortgage, car payment, student loans, credit card debt, etc. I live pretty comfortably, and I don’t think too much about money most of the time, but I do buy things needlessly and I’d prefer to get out of debt instead of just repeatedly feeding it. Most notably, I have a tendency to put out a ton of money for art supplies and books. Of the things I could waste my money on, these aren’t the worst things, but I have stockpiled a supply of both. So, my goals are not to buy anymore, the exceptions being that if I use all of an art supply I can buy ONE more and if I take five books to sell or donate, I can buy one book (in theory using the money from selling the book). I also tend to overspend on groceries, so I’m hoping eating in a more health-conscious way will also help me spend less. Portion control can bleed into money, right?

Saying I want to hydrate for a resolution sounds like a very millennial thing to say, but the truth is that I have a tendency to avoid drinking actual water, and for a long time last year I was drink gallons of water a day, and it does wonders for everything from my skin to my appetite. Recently I got back into the habit of drinking Coca Cola and Monster, as well as a copious amount of iced teas. The teas don’t bother me that much, because it’s only 1 cup of sugar to a whole pitcher of tea, which I think is about a gallon and a half. The coke is out of hand, which is a startling sentence. I really gotta stop drinking so much processed crap, though. While I drink zero-calorie energy drinks, I can tell when I’m dehydrated because I get all swollen and wanna take a nap. I don’t know what I’m going to do to replace my caffeine intake… caffeine is definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to kick, but I know I can do this since I’ve done it before.

Also, I’ve quit smoking. I don’t really know how long it’s been since I smoked… which is not something most smokers will tell you, but I never really smoked on the daily. I always smoked when I went out, and I haven’t been going out, so that made it an unconscious decision to quit. I’ve decided to stick with it, though. I often find myself wanting one, but I just push it down. It’s been really hard recently, because I’ve found it’s really hard to live without a vice.

I don’t have that many vices, and it’s unfortunate that the one I have makes me feel terrible. With the obscene amounts of stress I’ve been under since the new year started, I could really use a vice, but…I don’t drink alone as a rule (cuz I have been known to develop a real bad drinking habit), I quit smoking, I can’t bring myself to become a stoner (I live in Denver, it’s legal, but I still might wanna find a new job at some point and have no idea how to detox, and in my industry we still follow federal regulations), and actual drug use (like abusing my stockpile of Xanax) has never really appealed to me. So, I’m often left with eating as a vice. Even if I make the healthiest food, I have a severe problem with portion control and as a result I’m fat and suffering physical ailments related to my size. Honestly, I have toyed with the idea of living on zero-calorie Monster and cigarettes and just giving up food… but I already had my battle with not eating, as well as the vicious binge-and-purge cycle, and I’m not sure I could win again.

My hands have suffered in place of my lack of vice, too, because I had stopped biting my nails for most of 2017, and I’ve just massacred them since the new year started. THEY ACTUALLY HURT. It’s not even just biting on them, either. I have a tendency to take clippers to try and “fix” the damage and cut them so much shorter than I even ripped them down to. I clip till they bleed, and to be honest that part is so satisfying. It’s like tiny self-harm that’s 100% socially acceptable. It really is just a self-harm substitute, cuz I end up biting and clipping when I’d prefer to squeeze tacks or jab myself with safety pins, etc. Fortunately, I don’t have to fight the cutting feelings a lot anymore, to the point I don’t even know how I used to do it, but the baseline compulsion is still there.

I guess one of my resolutions is to also try to leave my mental illness alone, as well. I’m aware I just talked about my eating disorder problems, and my self-harm problems, and that they were 100% unnecessary statements. I do that a lot. At some point I took my mental illness (bipolar I with anxiety, paranoia, delusions, and sociopathy if the doctors are to be believed) and made myself a chrysalis out of it to distance me from my life. I stopped going out, which is a thing I really enjoyed doing and often even did alone, but that’s not my fault because I have anxiety and staying home was just self-care. It’s a lie, but it sounds nice, right? I have awful paranoia surrounding other people and their perceptions of me, so I just started rejecting ANY thoughts people MIGHT have about me, to the point that I just stopped exhibiting any empathy toward other human beings at all and shut myself off from all people emotionally. Not to mention that my rejection of their perception of me is so strong I stopped wearing makeup or trying to take pride in my appearance. I’ve just been phoning it in for years under the pretense that the feminist movement allows me to not wear makeup, even though I like makeup and really kind of miss having the motivation to put it on. I could go on, but my point is that I’m using my mental illness like some kind of bubble to keep myself from being responsible for my life.

I’m not the kind of person to do that. I’m not the kind of person that gives myself permission to check out because of my crazy. I’ve never taken an actual mental health day. I’ve rarely lost control of my emotions outside my home, because normal people don’t mood swing, so I’m just not allowed to do it. You go home, have a break down, get up, and go to work the next morning, because that’s what normal people are supposed to do. The few times my emotions have gotten the better of me, I just bottle it back up as fast as I can, claim I threw up a lot and that’s why my face looks this way, all tear-streaked and spotty, and continue with my day under the guise of illness. I do not give myself permission to hide behind my mental illness like it’s a reason to be different, and I know that people with mental illness will tell you how unhealthy my approach is, but it’s how I get by in life.

Anyways, I want to stop using my crazy as an excuse for the things I’m doing to myself. I’m secluding myself from people I was good friends with. I’m using my mental illness as an excuse to look proper shite. My house has never been “clean” but it’s gotten worse and my excuse is just that I’ve been depressed…. I’m depressed every damn day for some amount of time, so that’s not a great excuse for me. I have to learn to deal with that shit. I’m… I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to ever open up emotionally ever again. I reserve that for having mental breakdowns on the phone with my mom. Still, I could get over the rest. I have before. Will I be happier? Fuck no. I’ll be miserable. But… I’m fucking miserable everyday anyways. So what’s the difference between miserable and gross or miserable and eyeliner sharp enough to cut someone? At least one of those projects a sense of wellness, even if it’s an illusion built on Smashbox.

So. That’s where I’m at, guys. It’s not a great place, but it’s not the worst I’ve been.

At least we finally hired a biller…
Well… technically she’s the second biller we hired, but the first one didn’t pass the drug test and wasn’t comfortable stopping her THC meds long enough to get a clean test. For what reason, I don’t know, but I sympathize. People are using THC and other weed products for a lot of things these days. It’s unfortunate, cuz I liked that biller, but she has to do what’s best for her. This other biller seems good if she stays. Typical car industry gal, but I think she’s teachable.

Aight, I gotta go to bed. It snowed a fuck ton and I will prolly have to drive in it tomorrow since Mothership has the norovirus I had over New Year.

Peace.

EDIT: I almost forgot! How could I forget?! Rick Died.

My mom’s best friend has been living with, but not married to, her significant other for 20+ years, and one day last week she went home and found him dead in the front yard. We went over immediately, obviously.

He was still lying in the yard when we got there, surrounded by a fire truck and cop cars. You’d be amazed how long it takes to get a body removed. He was out there in the cold for hours… almost three hours from when we got there. Probably three and a half hours total from being found and called in. They have to call people and take pictures and you have to see the grief counselors and stuff… it’s a lot.

We went to the viewing Friday after work. He had to be autopsied. Because she wasn’t married to him, our friend doesn’t know how he really died, though. It’s weird you can live with someone for 20+ years and not be entitled to be their next of kin at all. It didn’t seem to be the fall, so he probably had a heart attack or another stroke. He gets cremated tomorrow, and I hope that gives her some real closure, especially since his friends and family seem to be such fucks. Weddings, funerals, and holidays always bring out the absolute worst in human beings.

I haven’t seen a dead body since my grandfather died. I was really emotional about it at 14, but this time it was nothing. It’s not like I didn’t know the guy, or that I was in shock. I just… didn’t really care about the body. It was there. It was Rick. He was dead. People were crying. I just felt nothing about it, other than it was really unfair to not let the spouse sit with him. I get the investigation portion of body removal, but it was three hours of being told you can’t touch the body in your yard that used to be someone you love, and that feels so wrong. At the viewing I staid away from him, cuz, tbh, the mortuary made him look like a bad Tussaud figure. I just knew that if I got too close I’d wanna poke him or something else completely inappropriate for when you’re viewing a dead body.

So… not sure what to do about my total lack of feelings about a dead body. Makes me a little more serial killer than I’m entirely comfortable with, but maybe it just means I’d make a good mortician. I’ve considered it.

Life & The Year Of Content

I made a hard decision, and I ghosted D2.

It’s not an easy thing to decide to cut someone out of your life, but I couldn’t deal with our one-sided friendship. Things were always about him. We were always at his house. We hung out with his friends if we did go out. We talked about HIS illness, HIS treatment, HIS problems. I guess I thought that eventually the newness of his diagnosis would wear off and we could just be people who were friends. It just never happened. His newest relapse and hospital stay proved this. He’s not where I am and he’s not going to be there any time soon. So, for my own mental health, I cut him out.

I feel like this is the part where I’m supposed to say that I miss him, or that things have been harder without him, or something… but just the opposite is true. I’ve been happier, and I’ve even been doing things with other people. It’s like a weight has been lifted, and maybe it has.

I’d mentioned learning to play D&D last entry, and I’m still working on that. It only took me a year to do it… if you ca believe I’ve been thinking of learning since last year. Cat had me, her friend Haley, and my friend Bren over to play my little game. It was only supposed to last a couple of hours, but apparently I overdid my little game, and it went on for six hours and we still aren’t done. I still don’t have all the nuances of the rules down, and I think I’m not making the characters do things exactly right, but we’re having fun. If there’s a question of if someone can do a thing, and I don’t know the technical rule, I just make them roll against me for it. I hope to get better at actual rules later… but I might switch to Pathfinder rules… D&D has really technical rules… maybe Pathfinder is a little easier? (I don’t know… tell me if you know.)

Last week D1 was in town! I saw him for an evening at Heidi’s place. It’s good to see him. He looks great. He’s happy. He’s all around doing good shit with his life and enjoying it. We heard a little more about the Rabbi, which was neat, and I really enjoyed seeing him. Also, Heidi invited me over every Thursday to watch Supernatural. So… unexpected win.

I’ve known Heidi since high school. We were never really FRIENDS, but we were never really NOT FRIENDS either. We just kind of knew each other and never hung out without other people around for social lubricant. That’s weird, because Heidi and I have always been kind of similar. We’re both introverted nerds who like people but often hole up and don’t see anyone because we’re hermity. Being invited over for the new season of Supernatural is really cool, and I like Heidi, so I’m excited to have a weekly thing. Also, it’s not on a Friday or Saturday, so that still leaves weekends open! She also lent me a book, so I gave her one back. I dunno how long this will last, but I’m excited to do a thing with someone.

I also went to my first book club meeting on Monday. My friend Evan has been badgering me to come to his book club, because he is a rather hermity, socially awkward human being, and he goes to socialize and read books he otherwise would not. I don’t really like reading books I otherwise wouldn’t, but they read a book that was already on my reading list, so I read it and showed up. I nearly had a panic attack walking in the door, but I honestly had a good time. I’m gonna read the next book and go again, I think. Would I like it more if all the books were scifi and horror? Yes, but this is a start, and maybe I can find another book club later, or even start one of my own. In general, I’m proud to have done a thing.

This weekend, I’m to hang with Bird, try to finish my costume for Halloween, and be a person. I’m feeling pretty good about myself, and I’m pretty happy. I hate to say that this is because I dropped D2, but it might be. I don’t have someone reminding me I’m crazy, that at any second I could spin out into a manic episode, or spiral into a depression. I’m just a person, living and doing stuff. It’s a nice feeling.

I turn 29 in a couple of weeks. I don’t like my birthday, but it’s how I gauge a year. Nothing happened this year. I started by having a breakdown about how at 28 I wasn’t married, had no kids, and no prospects for starting a family. I’ve done that for three years in a row. I don’t wanna do it this year. I started this year in that state of mind and everything went so horrendously anyways, between the election, and mothership getting pneumonia, and just… it was a bad year for me.

This year, I’m dubbing the YEAR OF CONTENT. It’s a term I’m blatantly stealing from one of my favorite YouTubers, Caitlyn Doughty of Ask a Mortician. She dedicated herself to a certain number of videos a week this year, and she’s kept to it. My year of content will be similar, in that I was to do at least two social things a week. It’s going to be hard… I’m not social… but I think it will be good for me, and maybe I’ll meet some people. I might join a gym. That’s a pretty easy social activity, but I hate the gym and it makes me wanna die… so maybe not. I’d like to be more healthy, but more than that I would just like to be happier. If the gym doesn’t make me happy, it probably isn’t my best choice.

Anyways… I’ll be starting that next week, although I should be able to hit my goal this week, too, since I went to book club Monday and I’m to see Heidi Thursday, and even Bird this weekend… So much social.

For accountability reasons, I’ll also be posting at least once a week to check in on if I did my two social activities… ^_^

And… yeah.