Feelings, nothing more than feelings

 Once again it's been a long stretch since I've written anything... actually, that's not completely true. I have been writing letters to someone recently, and they have certainly taken on a blog-like, or-my-brain-spilling-out-everything-that-comes-to-it, like. Which is sort of my writing style. 

Today would have been Matthew's 51st birthday. The sense that it's easier to digest this year than last year makes it actually harder in a way. I think that's been my issue from the start - thinking that I should be obtaining a sense of letting go, but also desperately not wanting to let go. To hold on as long as possible. Because if I somehow let go of the grief, I'm letting him go. I didn't want to let go three years ago. I didn't want to let go a year ago. I don't want to let go now. I want to hold on because somewhere in the back of my mind I think that if I keep holding on to this grief, he'll come back. That he'll never have left. That it was some conspiracy out of a book where it was all fake, and all I have to do is hold that hope in my heart. If I keep holding on... and logically I know (through counseling) that there is no true letting go. I know through personal discovery that there is not point in time in which this grief will cease to exist. It will always be a part of me.

But it does get... I don't even want to say easier. I still stand by my original sentiment that this will never be easy or forgettable. I don't know the word for it. It's not easier, but I guess it is less obtrusive in my life. Ok, that's probably not the best way to look at feelings (Damn these feelings, they're getting in my way! Stupid crying, for the love of Pete stop fucking crying!). But I don't know the word. I may not cry every day. I may not think of Matthew every day anymore. But it's always there, the grief, the sense that I can never let go. The sense that if I wait long enough, he'll still be just a phone call away. 

Here's the recent list of things I wish I could call him about in no specific order. 

1. The Pandemic. I know everyone is sick of talking about this, and many people have moved on to their new normal, but that's not the case for me. But as a former nurse/ curious person, I think he would have found the pandemic, the vaccines, and the general response to everything incredibly fascinating. I can picture our long drawn-out conversations. We would have traded off what epidemiologists each we were following, what the treatment options were. Granted, he probably would have found the pandemic isolating, depressing. With all of his health issues, he would have had a hard time.

2. Collagen. I started taking (grass-fed, but I'm still on the fence about it, but need more joint support) collagen for my joint issues because I've been assured it helps. I'm 100% certain he would have had a lot to say, especially given the additional amino-acid makeup of the product. I'm certain he would have had a lot to say about the health benefits, and perhaps have steered me to a different product to try altogether. Or perhaps a supplement - he sure loved his supplements. 

3. My kids. I love talking about my kids, it's just part of who I am now no matter how long I fought being "that parent." But Matthew was one of the people in my life who loved hearing about my kids. He was always reacting to the pictures and videos I shared with the family. I'm so sad he only got to meet Ahsoka once, and will never meet Ashla. I think Ashla's little snarkiness vibe would have tickled him. I miss his laugh so much. 

4. Anything happening in my daily life in general. Really, I would just love to hear his voice again. I'm heartbroken that I don't have any videos of him or recordings of his voice. 

Nothing is Free

There's been some discussion recently about how breastfeeding is "free". Being a data geek, I decided to export my breastfeeding data from my app (for Ashla only):

Total Hours across 2 years: 1700.43
Average Hours Per Week Year One: 20.12
Average Hours Per Week Year Two: 12.58

Total Hours Pumped: 191.82 (One year only)
Average Hours Per Week: 3.69

I am very lucky to have been able to breastfeed both my kids, but between the time investment and the amount of tools I had to purchase as a working parent, breastfeeding is far from free; plus, the emotional and physical toll this took on me. Not to mention the time it took the first three months to pump and supplement my children with additional feedings, so bottle-feeding on top of these stats. Looking at these numbers, breastfeeding alone, on top of working full-time 40 hours per week, and maintaining a household with another older child in tow, was an additional full-time job year one, and a part-time job year two. Tell me, how is that free? And how is that accessible to everyone?

I would never have been able to breastfeed my kids without the support of my family, my community, and my employer. It's a pretty big slap in the face to both breastfeeding parents, and bottle-feeding parents to be told that there's this free option waiting in the wings when so many parents are unable to do this. And furthermore, not all parents want to breastfeed for a myriad of reasons (that are no ones business but their own), and that is valid too. FED is best.

That day is not today

 

I called my mom on Mother's Day; a yearly obligation that I try to fulfill... I love my mom. She's the only parent I have. But much like most conversations with her, this one ended with her crying about her past. And I realized after that conversation that I don't want that for myself. I have felt trapped or haunted by my past at my points in my life. I know that I've come really far with counseling the last several months, and I've become better at managing my anxiety - identifying my triggers, breathing through things before they become overwhelming. So I try to take stock of the ways in which I've grown... but hearing my mom going through a moment where she was trapped in her trauma in real life solidified for me that I don't want that for myself. There are always going to be these moments in my past, and I'm not saying that I want to forget about them altogether; however, I hope that I do not look back at my life years from now feeling trapped in all the terrible moments in time the way my mother is. 

Coming away from talking to my mom is always a little big "triggering." I wish that wasn't the case. I wish that I could have a conversation about my life or even a day in my life with my mother that didn't lead to her talking about her past and crying. I wish that I could come away from those conversations without feeling a mixture of that sadness that I've always felt around my mother - sadness that she feels sad, sadness that no matter how much I want to make her happy, making her happy is impossible - and also this feeling of resentfulness that I feel for my mother. The resentfulness is really part of my past too. The things I resent about her are largely in the past, and I wish I could let go of that. Maybe someday I will. But that day is not today.

Sitting on the Dock of Bay

 My mom is in the hospital again... as my brain floats between the worst possible case scenario to an overly sunny outlook, and everything in between; my body and brain's natural mode is to disassociate. My brain is floating, my emotions are distant, and it feels like... it's so hard to describe. It feels like I'm not actually connected to anything. Not so much how I've heard disassociation described where people say it feels like it's something happening to someone else - it definitely feels like it's happening to me. But maybe it's like, I'm watching it happen to me from afar. I'm in some distant, hard to concentrate place, just spinning from thought to thought. And I've learned tools recently that should help me move out of the disassociated state... and logically I know that I should tap into those tools... But I also know that this is my brain's way of trying to protect itself. And I know that the alternative may lead to a severe anxiety attack. Is it so bad to just let myself float for a little bit? Probably... the down side to disassociation, or at least the down side in the past, is that when I come back to myself, the anxiety is so much worse. Floating is just so... easy. And that's the rub, isn't it? Nothing should be easy, it always has to be hard before it can be easy.

On the other token, we really don't know what is going to happen. She's in the hospital, but she's alive, we're awaiting results of a brain scan to see if she needs surgery or recovery. So I would kind of like to just float until I know if I should actually feel anxious... which I also recognize is not really logical either. But emotions aren't logical. It's not that I feel nothing. And it's not like I don't feel the anxiety waiting on the side of the shore. It's out there. My chest is tight. My brain is also incredibly foggy. I also have a day job and work to do... wither I'm floating or anxious, that's going to be a bit tough today. 

I suppose if I address the disassociating (which I guess by writing I'm starting to do), and then deal with the inevitable anxiety, I could just to get myself to a somewhat, what, non-anxious state? Is that even possible? The answer to that is that I don't know. And I hate not knowing. I had not knowing what is going to happen to my mom. I hate not knowing what my body and brain are going to do at any given moment. 

And all of that not knowing just feeds off itself pushing me further and further into a state of... well, a battle between disassociation - lost in a sea of floating - and the anxiety; waiting on the shore for me to come back to myself so that it can hit me like a sword falling on a solder who saw the battle coming and is there to counter the sword - either by their own sword or their body, uncertain which way it will all come down until the second it does.

Is it any wonder why my brain decided that taking itself away from itself was the way to go as a kid, and has been hanging on to that ideal for all these years? In counseling, we talk about this tolerance window, and expanding that window so that we can do what we need to do without either extreme. And that makes sense. I get that my goal is to expand that window so that generally speaking most things are within that tolerance window. But life is so full of extremes, and difficult situations. Is it any wonder that I find myself often outside of a tolerance window? I don't think so. But... here's what I'm avoiding, I think. My tolerance window is small, yes. My mom being in the hospital is an extreme situation, also true. But if my tolerance window were larger, maybe less would feel extreme so that when something extreme does happen, I am better equipped to handle it; maybe even extreme situations would still fall partially in the tolerance window. Or at least things outside of the tolerance window wouldn't put me into such an extreme variation of floating or anxiety.

Fuck, I guess I better do the exercises that I should do to bring my back to shore. Then I will deal with the anxiety waiting for me, that fucking asshole.

The Path of Daggers

 

I love reading fantasy and sci-fi books. Throughout this recent counseling journey, I think often times when I'm asked to visualize things, I end up pulling fantastic elements from things I've read into my toolbox. "Visualize a box, and put your negative emotions/thoughts into that box until you are able to work on those things. What does that box look like?" Well, it's clearly a large chest, with three locks - a thrice locked box. It has an enchantment on it, so it is very hard to open. "Where can you put that box so that you don't need to think about it?" In the back of my closet, behind the boxes, so far back, it's like the box has been placed in a portal to another world.

I think fantasy often describes things for the purpose of the story, that may or may not be intended to be an allegory for the trauma in your life. I've been reading more books recently than I have in a long time, which I think has been very therapeutic for me in terms of self-care, and possibly a bit of escapism. What do I want to escape from? I've been working so hard on my anxiety and both developing and remembering to utilize the tools in my toolbox, but I haven't really ever focused on the trauma that started all of this to begin with.

When Matthew passed away a few years ago, it hit me really hard. So hard, I felt like I was having trouble holding everything together. But the it just kind of stopped. It wasn't like I had addressed what was going on, but more like I just didn't feel like I had time to deal with it, so I stopped dealing with it... or acknowledging it... or even feeling it. Then my anxiety got so bad this year after so much build up with COVID, it was suddenly like I had been smacked in the face with everything I hadn't been dealing with for so long, and then all the new things on top of it. I was slowly and then very suddenly, overwhelmed by the physical manifestation of my anxiety. So, with several months of counseling, my anxiety is getting better, but there's still something else, hiding, under the surface, not being dealt with... the trauma. The childhood trauma, the trauma of losing my brother, and everything in between. 

We talked last week in counseling if I'm ready to address that trauma, if I'm ready to start processing the grief of loosing my brother. I said I didn't know if I was ready. I felt, I feel, like I just want to start working on it and be done with it! To finally face it head on, and slay it with my mythical sword of truth - all the anger, pain, love, and grief, and just get through it. But it doesn't work just like that. You have to be ready, as in grounded. You have to have your full arenol of tools to keep it from tipping you over the edge.

Thinking about my brother, I'm reminded of one of my favorite fantasy series where a protagonist receives a very deadly wound, a wound that is full of hatred and evil energy, a wound that never fully heals. The protagonist goes on, and the wound heals just enough for him to go about his day to day live unscathed. But every time he has to battle, every time he over-exerts himself, the wound reopens - sometimes worse than others, but continues to remain unhealed fully. 

That's my life since loosing Matthew. It's a wound that is so full of grief, and remorse, and pain that it never heals. It's always there with me. It scabs over just enough for me not to constantly think about Matthew all the time, but it's always there. And any time something too difficult happens, or I talk about Matthew (either in counseling or otherwise), it's like the wound has been been freshly received. It's like I'm always starting over with this terrible pain.

So where do I go from there? That's a theme that keeps coming up. What do I do with this? I guess the answer is that I keep going, but do I keep all of this locked in my thrice locked box, or do I push forward into a potential Path of Daggers?

Happy NYE

It's time for my annual long-winded New Year's Eve post! I was looking through my Facebook memories, as I do every year on NYE, and thinking about what intentions I want to set for the year ahead.

I've never been great with New Year's Resolutions (which apparently I make sure to note every year), but I do like to go into the New Year each year with a sense of hope and wonder. I know that today is just another day in the grand scheme of things; however, I also know that setting goals and setting intentions for the future is never a bad thing, no matter when you decide to start.

Once again, my intention for the New Year is to, as always, try to remain present. I will probably always struggle with being present, and my thoughts getting trapped in the past or future. But I also know that there is always room to try, and I will continue working on enjoying and experiencing the here and now - Remembering to take stock in my favorite things, the often-missed moments in-between the big moments -The little pockets of laughter and joy and learning.

My intention for the New Year also includes working on letting go of my self-judgements. Work on giving myself a little more grace. Work on creating a desire to let go of the past and my many mistakes; to move forward with the thing things I've learned from the those mistakes, and the desire to do better ongoing. As I often tell my kids, each apology and each regret is a promise to do better.

My goals for the New Year continue to be invested in my creative endeavors. I'm super excited for the next chapter for Project-Nerd. If you haven't seen my posts about Project-Nerd TV (PNTV), I will most certainly be sharing more. And I also want to support you in your creative endeavors! Tell me what you're working on, and what you hope to accomplish this year. Tell me if you think there's something we can partner on together.

I also intend to read more books. I read so many more books this year, compared to the previous years (16 total books on my Kindle App alone, and I read epic fantasy, so some of those books were pretty long). I love reading, and I'm glad that I'm able to make more time for it. I plan to read at least that many books again this year, and more.

Lastly, my goal for the New Year is to work on my friendships. I don't know what the future holds for many of my friendships, especially as I continue to stay isolated with my kids until they are vaccine eligible; however, if you're reading this and it has been a very long time since we've last spoken, know that I love you and that I miss you. Know that I think of each of you very often, especially those that I don't live near. Know that I am rooting for you in your daily life, and your goals. Know that there is a part of me that is afraid to reach out because I worry that you don't want to hear from me. But also know that I will be trying to get past that feeling, and will be endeavoring to reach out anyways. And also know that I am always here if you want to reach out, but haven't for whatever reason.

Happy New Year's Eve! Tonight, my spouse and I will continue our annual NYE Junk Food and movie watching tradition. Assuming we get the kids to sleep before we fall asleep ourselves, we'll finally be checking out the new Matrix film. Love to you all.

Tangents

 

Journaling... it's a good way to process everything, getting my thoughts down. And it's also been two months since I last journaled. It's incredible (or maybe internally incredulous) how time passes, or how easy it is for me to procrastinate until time is passing by. It's so easy for me to procrastinate and then just let things slide. But I made a goal last week to journal at least once in the two week span between counseling appointments, so here I am....

First thing first, I survived Christmas. More than that, I had a genuinely really awesome Christmas with my family. I was expecting some kind of processing super blowout blowup temper tantrum from Ahsoka, and it just didn't happen. She really had a wonderful day. I think she had one point in time where she needed to chill in her room for a bit, but overall I'm just really floored at how well Christmas Day went for her. I think it helped that we stayed home instead of traveling down to their grandparents. And Ashla, as always, was just cool with everything going on around her. While I'm certain Ashla will have the same phases as Ahsoka, for now, she's pretty chill. She does scream if Ahsoka screams in a kind of "oh, are we screaming now, I CAN SCREAM TOOOO!" But I don't think she's actually having a temper tantrum. Like every younger sibling before her, she just wants to be part of what the older sibling is doing... at all times.

Another positive note is that the holidays are often a mixed bag for me (thinking of the past, missing my siblings, worrying about my mom), and so part of me was anticipating that sort of like, mixture of getting caught up in the past and still loving the holiday and all the traditions. I think I've been getting better about dwelling, and trying to stay in the moment. Somehow, instead of getting trapped in those past moments, I managed to stay present and just focus on where I was at... potentially because kids are such a whirlwind, I had no choice but to be in that chaotic and wonderful moment.

That being said, in the name of being honest (mostly with myself), I have had some heaviness/anxiety feeling in my chest the last couple of days. I think this might be more of the post-holiday blues. Sort of how I feel after a convention or a vacation. There's so much buildup to the holidays and there's so much going on with all the presents and wonderful food and time together, and then in the blink of an eye, it's over. So what now? Go back to regular non-holiday-celebrating life? I don't want to. I want to go back to Christmas morning and watching my kids open the gifts that I've been so thoughtfully picking out and purchasing and wrapping and planning for the last six months.

I also finished a trilogy of books I was working on, and I don't really have another book to look forward to at this point. At least not one that has been published yet... it blows my mind that authors sit on the next book in a series for a decade at a time - I mean, I'll still love the next book, but I'm impatient. I started reading another book, which I had tried to read before - very popular series, highly recommended. I hate it. I'll keep trying, but might just have to give up the ghost on this one. Life is a little too short to read books that I'm not into, especially if they are supposed to be for fun.

Anyways, everything has an end... maybe that's another area where I continue to struggle a bit. Processing endings, letting things reach logical conclusions, and moving onto something else. There's always another holiday, another thing to celebrate, another book to read; however, I don't know if that's quite the heart of the issue either. So what is it? Is it my not-so-gentle inability to just let things go? Even if it's just the not so distant past, as in, two flipping days ago, am I simply just shitty at letting things go? I guess so since this is a theme I keep going back to. Just another thing on my laundry list of things I need to stay on top of. Ok, not "just." And I need to stop delegitimizing my need to adequately and gracefully acknowledge and address the things that I'm going through and need to work on. I am human, but I'm also a creature of habit and a creature of constant change. I need change, I long for it. And then at the same time, I want to be trapped in happy moments where my kids don't age and I don't age, and everyone and everything is just at peace. But logically I know that we cannot truly know happiness without the mixture of everything else too. Also, there are many happy moments to look forward to. If only I could also stop focusing on the bad things that I know are also coming (you know, like the climate disaster). 

On a side note, thinking back to books... I've come to the conclusion that I hate a lot of psychology books. I think it's the "look how great this book is, and here's all the research we did, and this is why you'll love the results" aspect of it. I struggled with this while reading baby books too. There was so much damn filler. JUST GET TO THE FUCKING POINT (which is funny to say since I am most certainly the tangent ruler of all things tangent related). But seriously, you have a system you think will help me? Give me the system. Don't write five chapters about how awesome you are and how awesome your thing is, and then every chapter afterwards is just additional filler. I have focus issues. I'm never going to be able to read 1,000 pages of filler to get to the maybe 10 pages of actual helpful information. Especially if that information appears to be hidden throughout the filler. I know I need to learn a bit of patience, but fucks sake, I just can't seem to do it! At the first least, these authors should include a companion piece or set of chapters that just gives you the nitty gritty for those of us that I just want to know. Otherwise, I just can't seem to focus long enough to really benefit from the book. I just started trying to re-read another book. The "Forward" section of the book is 500 pages long. 500 PAGES. I got to the point where I started to skip past it, but then it actually included a very important piece of how they advise you meditate as part of their system. How can I skim anything if that's in the FUCKING FORWARD OF THE BOOK?! Then I started reading the actual first chapter, and guess what? More filler! If I had been holding a physical copy of the book, rather than reading on the Kindle App of my phone, I would have thrown the book across the room. At this point, I'll probably just start reading another recommended self-help book.

Speaking of tangents, I guess that's all I have to write for now.  

“Today's tangents will become tomorrow's arcs, and unforeseen connections will tie up your loose ends in a way that will make you want to slap your head and holler at your accidental brilliance.”