well...that's...triggering

back in june i started spending time with someone. it was a bit of an interesting start- in april at my steak and whisky dinner, i asked my dad to send me a strong, rob delaney type. a few weeks later a strong, rob delaney type approached me at my regular bar and showed interest.

this is someone whom i had been aware of for years, but we’d just never connected. and even now, it took some time to connect, but it did, and it’s been fun and exciting and healing in so many ways.

we got to spend so many hot july evenings by the pool. we were able to take a day trip to the ancient cedar groves, a weekend trip to the Garden of 1000 Buddhas. we’ve had great nights talking and playing rummy or cribbage. we’ve spent more than a few hours watching documentaries of all kinds, learning all sorts of things. he has cooked SO MANY amazing, real dinners for me. REAL DINNERS. no boxes or cans. real ingredients, real food. taking into consideration all my weird food preferences- that’s no easy feat.

it is the most time i’ve ever spent with someone, ever. real time spent together. the first time i’ve taken a weekend trip with someone. the most evenings and overnights i’ve ever spent with someone. it’s been a lot of firsts. it has been some great healing conversations. beautiful unprompted sincere compliments. fantastic moments of matching energy and effort. thoughtful check in’s and text message updates. asking for things and being heard, acknowledged and seeing the follow through. kind and considerate acts of service. there has been laughter and memories and there are so many great little beautiful bubbles to add to my collection. 

ALSO.

it’s been a huge learning curve.

it’s hard seeing yourself from someone else's perspective.

i’m feral. i know this.

i’m strange. i also know this.

i’m absolutely fucking weird. i know this very, very well.

i’m neurodivergent. i have a lot of trauma. you can for sure tell both of these things, very quickly.

i’m also working very hard on all of it. it’s hard to fix a broken brain with a broken brain, but i’m trying like fuck.

it’s been interesting to see how the things that annoy the ever loving fuck out of myself also annoy the ever loving fuck out of someone else.

i have never spent this much in person time with another human besides my children. even a hundred years ago when i was married, i worked day shift and he worked swing shift. there was moving in/moving out. the whole thing start to finish was only 23 months. there was not much time together.

i’ve had partners over the years, sure. they were only ever around maybe a few hours at a time. my last partner that ended after 7 years off and on? saturdays only for 2 hours maximum. the one before that? a stop by once a week on the way home from the gym for an hour. there wasn’t a lot of getting to know each other or relationship building in either of those. which, perhaps, might slightly explain why the last one ended with me slamming a car door and telling him the direction and how far he could fuck off after telling me i was overreacting to the election. maybe.

so this has been different. very different.

it’s been a lot.

it’s been multiple journals filled up since april a lot.

i saw a quote the other day that said: “you are not healed, you're just isolated with no one to trigger you.”

OOF.

can confirm.

do you know how *extra* hard it is when all the things that annoy someone about you are also the same things that annoy the fuck out of you about yourself?

“why can’t you walk in a straight line?”

babe, trust me, i know. it’s annoying as fuck. i’ve lived in the same apartment, alone, for 6 years and i walk into walls and doorways all the time. i have constant bruises from shoulder checking a corner that has been standing in the same place for over 100 years. i have bruises all over my legs from coffee tables and desks and objects that haven’t moved once and yet i still run into them. i try watching the ground as i’m walking, but then my brain is so focused on walking in a straight line and i’m looking down the whole time and concentrating so hard that i miss conversations, scenery, the occasional street sign. I KNOW. trust me, i know how fucking annoying it is. i know i walk like a drunken sailor trying to get his land legs back. also: i haven’t walked next to someone in years. it takes time to learn pace and placement. it takes time to learn migratory patterns. i’m in your way? trust me, i’m in my own way ALL THE TIME. i get it. i’m sorry. i know.

“i already gave you an answer, why do you keep suggesting things?”

oh that i could stop my brain. i keep suggesting things because what is life without 900 back up plans? it’s great the doctor gave you an answer and some medication. i don’t have insurance, so no doctor. i also don’t trust doctors. i also never get an answer from doctors. NOT EVERYTHING CAN BE STRESS AND WEIGHT YOU FUCKERS. and i swear the next one that demands a pregnancy test before they’ll even talk to me? that little test is going to find some interesting places to be shoved. the only thing i CAN do is dig and research and think up 900 alternative options and naturopathic treatments and wildly out of the box ideas. that’s the only way i survive. that’s how i manage depression and stress and a brain that wants to kill me. constantly looking for the next suggestion that just might work this time.

i know we already picked a meal, but what if we’re out of an ingredient? or we change our mind? or that restaurant is closed? or that meal just doesn’t sound good for some reason?

i know you already have a plan, did you make sure to account for these 74 contingencies?

my brain lives only in survival mode. i’m working on the stability required to be able to shift out of it, but i’m not there yet. in the mean time, it’s worst case scenario game in my head all day every day to try to make sure as little chaos happens as possible. is it annoying? YUP. is it a waste of brain power? can confirm. is my nervous system completely fried? absolutely. is it completely unnecessary and pointless? every time but the ONE time it actually helps.

“why do you always interrupt?”

i promise i’m not trying to. i’m just trying to follow the story. i’m trying to clarify the details so i can make sure i’m tracking correctly. i’m trying to make sure i’m hearing you right so you don’t think i’m not listening. i’m trying to stay engaged when my rabbid squirrel brain is chasing 1000 fractures and rabbit trails. i know it’s annoying. do you know how many times i’ve been writing and my hand couldn’t keep up and i lost a thought?  how many times i’ve sidetracked myself and never been able to make it full circle back to where i started? I KNOW. i do it to myself ALL. THE. TIME. you’re right. it is annoying as fuck. oh, trust me, i know exactly how annoying that one is. i would give anything for my brain to just shut the fuck up and not always have a question or something to add or a similar thing or a not at all similar thing but this made me think of it for some reason. I WOULD LOVE THAT.

it’s been hard listening to a list of all the "quirky" (annoying) things about myself, especially because he’s not wrong. i’m too loud, i also mumble too much, i do things in the weirdest way possible, i snore, i toss and turn, i get in the way, i tell stories no one cares about, i interrupt too much, i distract from the point, i don’t pay attention enough, my apartment stairs are shitty, my dog is too slobbery, my car is too orange, my music is trash (trust me, i haven’t been able to find a spotify playlist i like in months, i know my music choices needs some help). 

babe, I KNOW. trust me, i know. what did you think i meant when i said i’m feral and weird? i drive a little orange tictac car. i collect jackalopes and odd creatures and have a sloth ring. i have dinosaur earrings and i love wearing my trash panda earrings. yes, i read strange books and collect unusual art and have more plants than any one small apartment can hold and almost all of them  have a tiny trailer park built around them. i believe in crystals and tarot and pendulums and moon water. i talk to dead people and spirit guides. i still wear overalls and rainbows and double dutch braids. i don’t know how to cook, dear gods don’t ask me to cook rice. i can’t figure out an air machine to put air in my tires for the life of me. now you know why i have very limited friendships and even more limited family. I KNOW I’M A LOT. trust me, i know that very well.

i’m aware of my anxious attachment style. people disappear all the time for no reason, it makes me anxious. i’m aware that i have all 8 of the wounded themes of consciousness. trust me, that is not the cosmo quiz i wanted to get 100% on. instability: check. violation: check. inadequacy: check. distrust: check. loss: check. overwhelm: check. judgment: check. rejection: holy fuck that one gets checked multiple times. i’m doing the inner work. i’m aware, i acknowledge it, i’m working on it.

it has been hard. triggering. rewarding. and so, so good. how else do you change if your current beliefs go unchallenged? how else do you learn if there’s no other ideas or perspectives presented? there is inevitably some discomfort. sure. some hurt feelings. let’s talk it through. maybe even some tears (maybe even ones that can’t be blamed on pms).

i am so grateful for the last few months. i am so grateful for all i’ve been able to learn, experience, enjoy.

i kinda dig this dating thing. even with all the triggers.

 

here's to turning 45

hello friends, it's been a minute.

i turned 45 on tuesday. that seems like a pretty good reason to put some thoughts on paper. or, for the first time in a long time, in print. there have been plenty of thoughts on paper this year. a few journals worth. time to put some of that out in the wide world again. why not?

forty five. forty fucking five. it's not that i never pictured getting here, i just kinda, never pictured getting here.

forty five means my oldest is 27 and my youngest is 22. it means i'm officially closer to 50 than 40. it means i'm undeniably an old. i mean. anyone with a birth year starting with 19 is some version of old. so. there's that.

 

forty four was a good year. it really was a great year. i started the year picking up sunday work at a crystal shop. CRYSTALS. i get to spend my sundays selling pretty things to people in a magical shop owned by a very smart business woman who is as kind and generous as anyone i've ever met. the sunday work was to pay for some medical care for stella. she gave me a good scare needing surgery for pyometria that also revealed a sex cord stromal tumor. that surgery was immediately followed by an antibiotic resistant UTI. whew. that was a lot of stress and a lot of cheeseburgers to take medication, but we made it through that and she’s still being the best little (well, 50 pounds) meatloaf ever. after the election, as with the world, a LOT of things shifted very quickly. i ended things with someone who had been an on and off again partner since 2017. it was time. a few weeks after that i switched my main job from the bookkeeping/spice store to a local independent bookstore. MY LIFE IS BOOKS AND CRYSTALS NOW. books and crystals. little me is so content. grown up me is a little worried about medical insurance, but overall it’s pretty amazing.

 

all the changes were terrifying. it was hard letting go of a partner who had been around since 2017. that's not an insignificant amount of time in my world. and the spice store had absolutely saved me at the end of seven months of unemployment and being literal days away from losing my apartment, my car, everything. they both had their place in my life. they both allowed me space to be myself, to put my life back together after empty nesting and covid and unemployment. to figure out who i am in my skin after the great mullet experiment. but it was time. and, as my lifetime trend seems to be: it's all at once or none at all.

BUT LOOK AT ME NOW BABY!!

as different as night and later that same night.

things look the same- same apartment. same little orange cooper. same chunky little meatloaf. same monday thru friday 9-5 (literally) desk job. well, and sundays 10-6. you get the gist.

but good heavens.

it has been a journey.

in the midst of *waves at everything in general*

it has been a hard journey. an intentional one. an uncomfortable one. a fun one. an adventuresome one.

do you know how hard it is to stay on point for a full year working 6 days a week, with no back up plan, when 85% of the time your brain is telling you that maybe existing just isn't for you? and the other 15% of the time it's stressing about finances? and the other 15% of the time it's wondering if you'll ever have a social life? while the other 15% of the time it's yelling at you for not doing enough- not working out enough, not reading enough, not going out where the people are enough, not learning enough, not fixing your own brain enough. while 15% is trying to keep the deep sads that fuck up your sleep schedule at bay enough to be able to keep a good schedule and make it to work every day? and the other 45% of the time it's a running commentary on all your flaws and all the ways you're screwing up and all the ways things are just waiting to come crashing down? i'm not sure, but i think that's more than 100%. which explains why i'm tired all the time. but my skin care is ON POINT, so you'd never know. 

not to toot my own horn, but *insert air horn noise* i do look good right now. i've mostly figured out my skin and acne is under control, finally. my hair has recovered from the mullet and the shaved sides and the horror grow out phases. there have been fewer box and can meals and more real home cooked meals. i've been walking to work off and on and some of (most of) my jeans are getting a little loose. not too shabby for 45 if i do say so myself. i even had someone hit on me at the bar the other night: he remembered me as the girl who worked at the bookstore who was really funny and smart and pretty. so. your gir's finally got it. just in time for perimenopause which i'm sure is just around the corner.

but things are going well. i HAVE kept it together the last year. i've made it to work all 6 days a week and even a few more than that. learned to keep a right reign on that real quick. a 6 day week turns into a 13 day week real quick and that's no bueno. i've keep my mental health in check. i’ve kept my schedule and my budget in check (mostly). i’ve taken my vitamins more than not and started drinking at least more water. i’m constantly working on how to process things in healthier ways. let go of some of the shame and the judgment and the constant critique. i've learned to allow the softness to take over. to be kind to myself. to lead with kindness (then match energy as needed). to just allow myself to exist in this world. to enjoy existing in this world. i've reconnected with cousins, i've had coffee with friends, i've had wonderful weekend trips and adventures. i've learned to appreciate good moments for the magical bubbles they are and to hold onto those. enjoy each bubble for what it is. appreciate the star and planet aligning magic that goes into making those moments. to be grateful for those moments above all. 

speaking of which: this has been a pretty incredible birthday week bubble. i went to missoula, montana last weekend as a sort of a half adventure half birthday trip. on my actual birthday, i went to a delicious steak dinner with my boss who showered me with lovely gifts. i am now the proud owner of a sloth ring and he’s exactly as magnificent as you’re imagining. last night was home made stew and pie with ice cream and a quiet night in watching movies and settling into the changing weather. this morning was a fantastic cup of coffee, nature documentaries, an extended everything shower and some left over cold pizza. not too shabby at all for old sherry.

i’m looking forward to 45. it’s a year of 9’s, it was the same calendar day as the year i was born, a tuesday. it was on the tail of a full blood moon lunar eclipse. that’s a lot of energy to start off a new year. it feels good. i feel good. the stories are coming back. the writing is coming back. i mean, look at me go! this is basically a novel after how long it’s been!

i have thoughts, ideas, things i’ve learned, things i am learning, and i’m learning to tell my inner critic to ease up and just put SOMETHING out there. if all you do is worry about who isn’t going to like what you have to say, you’re missing the point. write for you. easier said than done. i’m working on it. but it feels good to be back. here’s to 45.