Monthly Archives: March 2015

Astute

Connected by technology,
in bed with each other,
though hundreds of miles apart
I’m reading Fight Club, I told him, and he made a face.

Really, I like Palahnuik
I said.

And he said,
I get that. But I thought you told me
That you don’t like who you are
When you like those kinds of books

And I’ve been questioning myself ever since.


Yesterday

Yesterday wasn’t a very good day; today has been much better.

Again, I find myself apologizing for a long absence. There’s not much I can say. I’ve been busy, and I haven’t felt like writing. I’ve been getting my creative time elsewhere, I guess. I knit a lot these days. We’re on a neat program for food assistance now, which gives us boxes of random food every week. This is fun, like a crazy home edition of the tv show Chopped… you know, the show where the chef contestants are given baskets and told to create memorable meals. That’s where I am at right now, only with insane quantities (five pounds of garlic!!! 50 pound of potatoes!! 2 gallons of sour cream!) and a vast amount of almost ready to spoil produce. It’s been interesting, to say the least, and I’m learning a lot.

I had eye surgery. I’ve worn glasses for my whole life, almost, and in the space of fifteen minutes, my head precisely positioned under a poweful medical laser, my corneas were re-shaped and my glasses became a thing of the past. 

With that, I found how much of my “self” was rooted there, and I’m learning not only how to see again, but how to see myself. I’ve always been the fat chick with the short hair and funky glasses… and it’s been interesting to learn who I am again, now that my self has changed.

I’m still single-ish. Still married, happily, and still poly, I guess, though it’s hard to feel poly when there hasn’t been anyone else for nearly a year. Hard to believe it’s been that long, to be honest. There was a brief fling with a wonderful fellow, who is still a good friend of mine. An online flirtatious friendship which is wonderful and fun. A single night with an amazing and beautiful woman. But that’s it. 

I’m happy, I guess. I’m not actively seeking a partner at this point. If it happens, I will be happy. But I’m no longer on OKC, no longer seeking. I’m tired of it, to be honest, and my bar is set so high. My marriage is happy and thriving, and Mr Awesome is still happily partnered to Velah, who is still my friend, too. It’s a good life, and it would take someone incredibly special right now, to be able to find a place in it.

But…

I find myself wanting to contact certain people again. I miss the feeling of “other” that comes from having, well, others. I miss the things that past partners offered, even while I don’t want the drama of having them back.

The past few weeks have been crazy. My aunt died, which meant keeping my  mother together emotionally for the funeral and the facing of the family. Fundamentalist Christians, that side is, and it was a hard day, dealing with them, knowing how they hate people like me. But I went, and I’m glad I did. I was glad to be there for my mother, and I know it meant a lot for her.

It was a long work week, last week, full of last minute catastophes and “aggresively inconsiderate” people. It was already a long week, 7 days straight. 54 hours on my feet, with new registers and a huge sale on top of it all.  My son’s birthday was in the middle of it all…. 12 years old and as tall as I am. He had a group of great kids over for video games and cake. I’m not sleeping well, and I pushed myself to hard, and then both kids got sick. Mr Awesome was able to stay home with our daughter, and I felt so guilty.

I felt like I should have been there for her. I hated that I was making him miss work, so I could go to work. And I couldn’t  be there for my girl. Then, yesterday was my day off. I was to have lunch with Velah, and do some errands, and my son got sick. So I stayed home with him, and cancelled my lunch, and felt miserable. I snapped at him and felt worse, for being angry at him for being sick. I told him I wasn’t well, I apologized, but I still felt terrible.

Then the worst thought hit me.

I would never ever wish my mental illness on anyone. Not my worst enemy. It’s a horrible thing to live with, and turns me into a person i hate to be. But here I am, and my precious, amazing son probably will deal with it too. It’s hereditary, in my family. And I’ve probably given it to him, just like his freckles and blonde hair. 

This devastated me. Mr Awesome held me while I had my breakdown. And I cried and railed about being a bad mother for passing this to our kid. How my week overwhelmed me and how disappointed I was to not get to go out. How I missed Wash and his ability to pull me out of a spiral, because he’d pulled himself out of so many. How I felt very, very alone and sad and scared.

Because every bad day has a fear lurking behind it… the fear that it isn’t just one bad day; that it will turn into another cycle, and that the bitch will win, again, and I’ll lose weeks or months or even a year to the dark. But here’s what different, the game changer in all of this.

I recognize it happening, now.

And I have words, now, to tell those close to me that it’s where I’m headed.

So, yesterday was a bad day.

But today wasn’t. I haven’t felt well, today, the stress and the sadness has caught up with me. My stomach hurts and I’ve slept a lot today. But I feel clear-headed, and strong, and ready to move forward, again.


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