Processing

I am stuck in some really bad feelings and I think I have to find another therapist. Mine moved just as COVID hit and I lost my Night Bus. I thought it meant that therapy was done but I guess it was just that round. I know this year has been sad for a lot of people and I have a lot to be thankful for. I also know that my sadness is valid and that I'm going to have to sit in it alone.

Writing is hard when you know you sound whiny and trite. It's a slow, thoughtful process for me to decide how to share how I feel, but sometimes it's the only thing I can do. So here are some things.

I keep a show or a podcast on all the time just for the noise. I fall asleep to it and when it turns off, I wake up soon after with anxious thoughts. I worry about my classes or things I haven't done at work or remember something really important. The only time I don't have noise is in the shower, and that's where I think about sad things and cry.

Mini is on 3 meds and Gus is on 2 meds and 2 supplements; his are all twice a day and 2 of Mini's are once a day. I had to make a chart.

I have tried four times to hire a personal trainer in the last six months and the universe is just not having it, which makes me think either I don't need one or I haven't found the right one.

Today my work team met at our old office to go through everything we had stored there. I'm sure there are old things that brought up but I was struck by how easily some people made decisions. Old file folders were thrown out- I would have organized them by type and probably color, put them in the supply closet, and even reorganized some of that stuff to fit. Yes, they were old and tired and had labels on both sides of the tabs. In my world, how often would I ever throw file folders out? We were halfway through the day before the question of staples came up. Can you put staples in the shred box? I always pay attention to the instructions on the box. Some have said no staples; some have said staples are fine. These boxes didn't say. It did say recyclable material only, and to me that means white paper, no stickies, no staples. We did try to ask, but got no reply in time so the team decided staples were fine. It was a decision I COULD NOT go along with. They did their piles a lot faster, but I pulled staples or ripped the corners off. Why am I like this? Can you imagine the things I keep? I have a bag of dead water filters and a bag of old toothbrushes in my car, waiting to find a place to recycle them. How can I dispose of old nail polish safely? I don't know, so I keep it. My heart hurt throwing those file folders away, even though they were old, beat up, and falling apart. I keep bits of ribbon in case I can use them to wrap a present. Maybe this is why the crows I feed don't bring me shiny treasures: they know I already have too much shit. Maybe I'm the crow.

Every time someone tells me they're pregnant, I have an involuntary breakdown. It's like being mown over by grief tornado: not much warning, varied damage. It whisks me back to knowing I was pregnant before realizing that I knew, and experiencing something like 4 days of joy and plans before a painful miscarriage ended the excitement and, little did I know, would take down my whole relationship. It makes me think about how guilty I felt- sure it was due to diabetes and not finding out for 10 years what the real problem was. It reminds me of how vulnerable and terrified I felt on the operating table about to get my tubes tied. It makes me angry all over again that the gynecologist knew I would likely miscarry and didn't tell me. It makes me think about fostering and adopting kids and realizing I am STILL not in a place to be able to do that. It makes me think about how many friends and  family have partners that seem so dedicated to each other, that they can depend on each other and can share the everyday tasks and be best friends and that I'm alone. That makes me sad and angry about my Night Bus and how he should be here and I don't even know what happened and that most people who know about it think I'm an idiot.

If I tell people I'm still sad over losing my Night Bus, most tell me I need to let it go, or worse, that he wasn't perfect, which is enraging because I am not an idiot, or they say having a partner has its downfalls, which makes me wonder if they remember what the benefits are. 

And I know there are benefits to my side. When I come home, nobody calls out from the couch to ask me what's for dinner. I watch exactly what I want. I control the thermostat, and I don't have to compromise. I always get to drive and sing loud and I can rearrange the furniture anytime in any inefficient way I want. I can read late and sleep in. I can stand in the gift wrap aisle at TJ Maxx for 40 minutes and sort all the gift cards if I want, which I have done, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I also don't have to be in a box of anybody's ideas about my limitations- just my own box, which is hard enough to get out of, thank you very much.

Sometimes I like that none of my ideas go together, and sometimes it looks like a pure mess. I do like that I don't fit, and I'm getting better at going with what works for me. Hopefully I will be able to hold my own lines and not smush to fit in somebody else's box. My favorite sad joke these days is in response to an astrology app that says I'll find love later in life. That's good news, but... just how much later? 

Trust that I hate how much I want love. I don't think there is anything I can do to fix that, though. I am a meerkat for love, and that is just an eternally hopeful part of myself that I cannot kill or ignore. Sometimes my optimism and pessimism even each other out and I can get something done. Sometimes I find items in my closet that unintentionally match and it looks like I did it on purpose. Sometimes I feel proud of myself or that I'm a fun and interesting person. Sometimes it all works, so maybe the love and the littles and the thoughts that didn't work before will line up and I'll have all the things or most of the things that I want and I'll feel pretty satisfied. And then I'll have to complain about something else.

Today I talked with a woman who has lost a lot more in the last year than I have, and she talked about how no one's grief is worth more than anyone else's. She shared some good advice about grieving in a book she's reading. It said to not be afraid to tell friends what you need. I don't know if that has occurred to me. She also said there is nothing to do but keep going and I wanted to blurt out "I just keep passing open windows" from the John Irving book but I didn't. It's not a cry for help; I find it funny. It's just that even when it's really sad, something usually propels us forward despite how little sense it seems to make. I just keep passing open windows and eventually something works and I feel up again. I see though that I am grieving more than just my Night Bus and that I need some perspective and tools from someone trained to help. I'd like to find some peace from the noise inside so I can turn off the noise outside.

The only way out is through.

Burnt carrots

This is a theme.

The thing I hate more than anything- more than people swinging wide to make left turns- is looking forward to something that doesn’t happen.

Part of letting go means letting go of the dangling carrots and that probably sounds dumb. But I am so attached to these ideas and it’s easy for you to tell me to let go because they’re my attachments. You’re not letting go of yours either- I know. It’s not that you HAVE to stay here. It’s that staying means something you’re hoping for.

So I was working late for someone who does not have faith in me, plugging away at some stupid administrative shit that should be done by someone else, but that’s me because who else is going to do it and besides, my grade is admin bullshit regardless of the roles I actually have (but this is a tangent you have all heard) so I’m sitting here thinking as I do hours of admin bullshit that doesn’t require my brain and I think about how my amazing, brilliant, loving Night Bus and this elusive next grade in THIS job are both dangling carrots and oh hey look, it’s a theme. Here’s some shit that’s never going to happen or if it does, it’ll be YEARS past when it was due. That’s a sad connection (though we’ve made it before) and I cry a while, still typing away with my admin bullshit.

Then I think about how maybe it’s supposed to suck. Maybe I’m doomed to be a meerkat for love until the batteries die and I give up. That’s the recipe, right? When you give up. Maybe I’m supposed to get so fed up with waiting for what’s supposed to happen in this job that I say fuck it and find something else- something that is not what I imagined or have been waiting for. That felt like a positive result: mad is good, frustrated is good, because it leads to action and letting it all burn means building something else. But then I remembered just how long I put up with bullshit. I tolerate shit until the person giving me shit gets tired of it and makes me leave. I am not a masochist- I do not enjoy this.

I need lessons from the one who told me, “I can dump anybody.” I need to set some metaphorical fires. Or, as a friend said, I need to put a little fuck you back out into the universe. Some small fuck yous like throwing litter out my car window or not returning my cart to the corral. I would never throw litter but I see what she means. I need to claim some space, throw out some defiant fuck yous, and light some matches.

Dad had a theory that kids needed to eat a thousand cheeseburgers before they’d try something else. It was a great theory and it worked so well for T. This insightful and understanding theory probably applies to most kids, but it did not work on me, and we’ve joked over the years about what my cheeseburger quota must have been. Maybe my bullshit quota is also way different, and maybe I’m finally approaching done. It HAS been a very long time for both of these situations and for probably lots of others, so maybe I’m approaching my million cheeseburger limit.

The part I’m too tired to think about is how to set the carrots on fire. I may need some symbolic fuck you like blowing up ceramics with a shotgun in the desert. I remember filling a cart with cheap shitty ceramics at the thrift store. This one woman complimented our choice of some weird object and we promptly handed it to her.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that! You found it first,” she said.

“No, we’re gonna shoot it.”

I welcome ideas for some other gleefully unnecessary ways to let go. If I can turn that release into some dumb celebration- a defiant fuck you that makes me cackle- I might not cry (as much).

I'm just thinking about my paper solution

Things I wanted to share:

The other day I went to use my oven and it started beeping at me. New lights were flashing and it wouldn't turn on. I didn't understand what was wrong and I was dismayed that I was going to have to put in a work order and maybe it wouldn't work anymore. The next day I forgot I thought the oven wasn't working and pushed the buttons in the correct order and it turned right on. I even realized just before I hit the last button that the day before I'd been pushing on the button to the left and THAT'S why it was yelling at me. I forgot how to use my oven. This is why I have electric. In my defense, it's been a hot summer. I'm grateful I didn't put in a work order.

Work order completed. Resident forgot how to operate oven.

Also this week, I found mini ice cream cones at Trader Joe's. I have never wanted ice cream in a cone in my whole damn life but I saw these things and became a convert without even having tasted one. I was not wrong. They are called Hold the Cone and the flavor I got is chocolate. I don't even know what to tell you. I feel like Ratatouille over here with this flavor combination. Why didn't anyone tell me? They are 11g apiece and that is an ample dessert size in this house.

I ordered The Paper Solution which was written by one of my favorite podcasters, and I have actually been reading a physical book. I thought I would have heard it all in scattered places on the podcast, but I've learned some new things that seem very obvious once someone else lays them out for you. For example, when you're trying to sort through all your papers, you need to find a place to do that work. 

What?

You mean I should not create piles of like items on the floor in front of the entertainment center and in the path of my animals (one that is blind) as they go in and out through the pet door all day? You mean that I should have a designated workspace and trash, recycle, and shred boxes at the ready instead of kneeling over migrating piles? How did you know that I end up stacking them all together when people come over? Good grief. So that's a project. 

Jotting it down on a Friday

I'm gonna get back to blogs come hell or high water.

I went back on a dating app. Dating makes me miss my Night Bus so much. Everything does, but dating especially because it emphasizes just how brilliant, funny, interesting, and handsome he is/was and it jerks me between being mad as hell and sad as hell. It makes me think I will never find anyone close to as amazing as him- someone who really saw me, accepted me, challenged me, and loved me fiercely. This is such a bullshit outcome and I know none of you want to hear about it, but I'm still struggling hard with my loss.

And dating sucks- even with the knowledge that most people aren't right for you and that's fine. They're right for someone- even the guy who said his hobby is watching porn and the woman for him should have the same interests like watching porn. They aren't all that uh... honest. Many seem sane and even friendly. It's a roller coaster ride of enthusiasm. 

After three visits, the maintenance people still hadn't fixed my toilet, which was only swirling around helplessly every other flush. My downstairs neighbors must think I have major digestive issues. I told my favorite neighbor during our weekly walk and she informed me that she would fix my toilet, and did. She listened to my description of the problem, watched the mechanism, kept track of whether we were on a working flush or non-working flush turn, diagnosed the problem, adjusted the components and fixed the dang toilet. I was so impressed, especially because I was watching all of this and didn't understand which thing did what. Amazing.

She was disappointed in our maintenance crew, and when I confessed i had no idea how she'd figured out the problem even after watching, she pointed out that yeah, but you're not paid to fix it. They are. That sent us on a tangential conversation about strengths vs experience as they relate to career paths.

I have been evicting a LOT of baby spiders. They are all the same size and variety, so somebody had a bunch of spider babies in here. I'm glad to learn that I'm not as horrified by this as I would have expected. It's been a vision test as they descend from unexpected places. Was that speck in a closer visual field than my brain first identified? 

Next week is full, and not just because I like to spread out my birthday. I present the first of a new training and wrap up two long term classes. Plus 6 other things. I think I'll be working this weekend to prepare. That's the danger of working from home, but I'll feel better if I've got some of the prep work done.

This week I watched A Goofy Movie, which I enjoyed a lot more than I expected. It's very dated, but good, and I have the same review for the music. I started watching Last Dance on Netflix, and I can't recommend that enough. It's so good, even though I understand very little about basketball. This week I can't stop listening to When Am I Gonna Lose You, by Local Natives, and I'm also leaving my car radio on 97.7 KWNK.

Heavy times

Sometimes I wonder why I can't accomplish more projects through the week but it's amazing how much time the basic maintenance takes, like the 7 trips downstairs for laundry or the geezer walks for Gus. And yes, cooking all his food, even in batches. I'm disappointed that I haven't done 40 more things.

There's another 3 day weekend coming and I'm gonna try to pick 2 projects to finish and one of those will probably be going to the laundromat to wash blankets and the duvet. That's not a fun project. Does that even count as a project? 

It never feels like I get anywhere. I understand why the organization podcast lady says to try to skip the day to day stuff when you're working on a project, because the regular stuff will eat all your time. Plus I'm not a slow and steady person, so my projects have to happen when the energy bursts arrive.

Also, 3 day weekends feel like just enough time to catch up, not surge ahead. I am feeling disappointed that I didn't get to any of the big stuff- the things that make me feel like a terrible person.

1) Find someone who can do your taxes and the amendment for last year. At this point, the price is worth having it done. Six months of stress is enough. You haven't waited this long for at least a decade, so this isn't you- it's the situation. The financial guy told you this stuff after you filed 2018 and before 2019 so now you have to fix that first and you don't know how so you got stuck. Find somebody, pay them, and move on.

2) Take a day off and do those art projects. Ok, maybe one of them. You have two really fun ones waiting and you love them, so find some meaning and clear some space. Go find some baubles and play. It will energize you. 

3) Dive in to the reading. That's all it takes. Just start.

I thought 2019 had some heavy shit going on. It seemed like everyone was dealing with some tremendous and awful things, but this year isn't feeling much better. Maybe it's part of a bigger change. I hope so, because everyone is struggling and we all need light.

I watched Starship Troopers today in an effort to watch something light and ridiculous, but of course I forgot it's a Heinlein book, so it's full of social commentary and military service. When I read the book I felt it was more pointed observation than belief, and the movie seemed to be the same: the characters voicing pro-military sentiments while being ridiculously impervious to situations that regularly contradict their beliefs. Plus there was some stupid sexism and culture appropriation and stereotypes and a lack of representation that just illustrates everything we're combating right now and it annoyed the shit out of me. But Johnny Rico's (eyes are rolling out of my head, but I believe that was either Heinlein's choice or something similar) high school teacher who becomes their commander in the infantry says something about violence that I have conveniently pasted here for you:

Naked force has resolved more conflicts throughout history than any other factor. The contrary opinion, that violence doesn't solve anything, is wishful thinking at its worst. People who forget that always die.

It was weird to hear that right now, because some people are talking about how violence doesn't solve anything, referring to riots and looting of few, but neglecting to address the widespread and systemic violence of police brutality. Holding Pride up as a peaceful parade, forgetting that Pride came from Stonewall. Forgetting that peaceful protests were also dismissed. I read somewhere in all this that every freedom and right we have came from riots. And someone else just pointed out that while people say violence isn't the answer, it is what they're paying attention to... which means they're paying attention. Which action are you rewarding? 

Someone in class this week said the pandemic has pushed us into innovations we weren't ready to fully use yet. They were speaking of telehealth, but it feels like a parallel to me. We think we're moving along as fast as possible, doing as much as we can, and then something forces us ungracefully and we find we're more adaptable than we thought. We are flexible and resilient, but sometimes we need a violent shove. It's not nice, but it's effective. 

In my last tie in of the day, I read about a study that shows connection between far right supporters and low emotional intelligence. People with low emotional intelligence fear change, have low resilience, and not much capacity for empathy. Make America the way it was again, right?

Well, there are heavy things about. It's bad because it's hard and people get hurt. It's good because heavy things change the world. So while we're in this time, I'm going to have make 4) Give yourself some appreciation and understanding too. 

Know when to fold 'em

The most optimistic thing I saw today was a woman walking two pit bulls on retractable leashes.

Gus and I took a very long walk. He likes to take me all the way to the park before deciding he's too tired to walk home. I was thinking recently about how long and exhausting our first year was together until I got with his program. He behaves SO WELL when I give him exactly what he wants. Thankfully his wants are pretty reasonable:

Meals on time

At least one long daily walk

60% directional authority over those walks

Snuggles

Friends

Protection from the dishwasher 

Pats

Freedom to wander the apartment 

Elevator service

In return, he puts up with: 

Injections in the neck

A rotating assortment of medications and supplements

Car rides

Nail trims

Occasionally having to ride in the laundry basket or other undignified transportation 

Never getting doggy treats or rawhides 

Wearing belly bands or the blind dog halo in public

Unexpected shoes, papers, and grocery bags in his path

Having a front end that's shorter than his back end

...and it becomes the morning dew

I just finished listening to Maeve Binchy's Circle of Friends. I have been hankering to watch the movie again for a few years now, but it's not streaming or rentable. I thought it would make me sad and it did. I heard it differently this time than I read it many years ago- how those golden boys undo us, huh?

I dreamt of my latest golden boy last night. He showed up without notice and fit right back into my world so easily that I jolted this morning when I realized that he was not here. That he is not going to be here. I didn't know how happy and light I had felt until I was sad again. Ah, yes. That's the familiar place.

It was cold and rainy today and Gus and I didn't get to walk. I worked a lot and tomorrow will be good but tonight I will take a bath and cuddle my littles and allow myself a few minutes to think. I keep distractions going at all times but that's probably why I can't find clarity either. I can't bear it yet. I'll try to let it in for just a few minutes and then turn on the noise again. I'll try again tomorrow and maybe things will start to clear up.

I see this time that Nan did Benny an unintentional favor by doing her dirty, that Jack never loved Benny anyway, and that Bill could probably tell his own love story. Benny finds the good kinds of love in the end. All that's true, but MAN what a hurting.

"We look for love, no time for tears
Wasted water's all that is
And it don't make no flowers grow
Good things might come to those who wait
Not for those who wait too late
We gotta go for all we know"