Daily Post 218: The Interrupted Writing


Never got a chance to finish this writing yesterday

Hey Chromebook,

I’m low energy today… story of my life it seems.

Yesterday was pretty good. The days previous were also pretty good. I worked with my FA on Friday. I worked with a float nurse on Saturday and even though she hadn’t been at our clinic in a while, it was a pretty good day. Sunday I spent most of the day sleeping and didn’t give myself shit for it. It was nice. Monday I worked with the float nurse again and, again, had a decent day.

Tuesday’s counseling was decent. I felt better after the session and got a bunch of cleaning done.

The apartment is still a mild disaster from having to empty the rooms for the bedbug guy. I haven’t put a lot of my stuff away since I want to paint my room. Sort of silly to put everything back just to move it again only to have to put it back yet again…

While I know logically it’s the smarter thing to do, my brain is having a hard time with it. Everything is a mess and it’s like sandpaper in on the inside of my skull.

Ox and I had plans to paint yesterday. But sexy time happened instead. It was very much needed, but it left me emotionally raw afterward. And I guess that, too, is part of the story of my life recently. When we have moments like that it tears away all of the superficial bullshit layers of my life. All of the stress of the mundane things that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. It allows all of those walls and distractions to come down and I’m left face to face with the core of who I am and what’s really underneath the surface; down in the dark quietness.

I realized something yesterday. I don’t think I’m as ok as I pretend to be; as I think I am.

I had the realization that if Ox died, I wouldn’t want to fight and struggle to figure it all out all over again. I would want to call it quits and tell Life it won and just give up. It was rather sobering.

My life shouldn’t hinge on another person, but at the moment I think it does and that’s not fair or right to Ox. He can be and is a support, but he shouldn’t be the one factor that keeps me going.

I realized that mortality is also probably the real reason I haven’t had an interest in actually finding another person for us to play with. I don’t mind being part of a D&D group, but the thought of forming a deep, close bond with another person is a hard “no” inside my head because I know on some level they’ll ultimately die and I would have do deal with the loss.

And so that’s where I am today. Wondering if I’m as healed as I’ve been thinking I am. Am I still weak? Am I still broken? Will I ever be “normal” again? Why is mom’s death affecting me so deeply that after four years the one bond I’ve allowed myself to form could be my undoing? Is that the type of person I want to be? Is that who I really am?

It’s confusing and it’s tiring. It makes me feel like I’m still just pretending at my life and going through the motions rather than actually dealing with the things that need to be addressed. The things deep down that really matter like my grief.

I know my grief is more of a spiritual issue rather than a logical one. I know I still need to find the motivation to care for myself again like going to the gym. How do you find motivation when you’re constantly tired? When life is constantly throwing other shit at you that needs to be addressed before the other things on your to-do list?

Yesterday, after counseling, I felt ready for battle. I was ready to start tackling all of the different areas in my life, one at a time, starting with my room. I don’t feel that right now.

I could start with putting some of the clothes away then move on to repacking some things…

Daily Post 217: Hello Again


Hello again, Chromebook.

It’s nice to be sitting in front of you. It’s nice to have my fingertips moving over your keyboard. It’s sunny outside. Warm. A nice day. A decent day. I’m supposed to be painting Jon’s bathroom, but here I am instead, spending some time with you first. I have all day to paint. I only have a few hours of alone time where I can talk to you; with you. With myself, really.

Things are going better. I’m into week two of being on Zoloft again. I think it’s helping. Ox and I had a failed date day on Tuesday. Tuesday was a pretty rough and shitty day. Instead of playing D&D I went to sleep. I think I was better for it.

I woke up to a text message from Jon.

Jon: I can’t help but feel like something is making you super sad. I want to support you but don’t know how. Please let me know.

I didn’t reply to that text message. Instead, I spent most of Wednesday low energy. Not negative like so many days previously. But low. I plucked away at small things. Running the dishwasher. Unloading it. Loading it again once I could. I received an email from someone in London asking for help getting my old scripts to run. I was able to help him and it was an extremely bright spot in my day.

Ox eventually got off work. He helped take the trash and cardboard out. We finished getting Jon’s bathroom ready for painting. We finished the puzzle we were working on. I made lunch for us. Turkey wraps. We cuddled a few times in between chores. Towards the end, we had sexy time and it was more connective than I had thought it would be. I was worried about feeling alone afterward; cold and… alone. I don’t know if that word can really fully describe the soul-crushing, horrifically aching lostness that sometimes hijacks my brain. But that’s the only word I have.

It wasn’t that though. While physically it was amazing, on a spiritual, human level it was exactly what I didn’t know I needed. I’m glad Ox and I worked through the fear I felt to have that type of moment together. I’m grateful that he took time out of his day, his life, to be with me and to help me feel his words, “It will be ok.”

I’m better today. I had another message from the person in London. He shared some parts of his story with me and I in turned shared parts of mine. It was connective and it’s another thing I’m grateful for. He didn’t have to share those details about his life with me, but in doing so it’s allowed both of us to be human; real. We’re not picture-perfect images. There’s a lot of unknown battles and struggles and that’s usually a more significant part of who we are as people than the successes we’ve easily attained.

I don’t know if there’s a lot going on today. Painting for sure. I think Ox and I are going to try to take two of date day now that we’re both in better moods. He has raid today so he won’t be staying with me, but he stayed last night and it was nice having a good morning kiss before he left for work.

I work with my FA tomorrow. It’s the first time in months that we’ll be on the floor together. We’re both looking forward to it. I found out so more information about what’s going on with upper management. I’m more confident in the notion that my FA currently does not have a plan to leave. At least not yet. That makes work feel a smidgin more stable which helps with everything else.

The apartment complex has scheduled a chemical treatment for the bed bugs. Jon and I are responsible for the cost of the treatment. That sucks, but it’s not a heat treatment, so it could be way worse than what it seems like it’s going to be. They’re going to be here after 1pm tomorrow. That gives Jon and Ox enough time to get off work and to take the pets out of the apartment. Since covid is going on, we’re not able to board them anywhere, and with everyone working, we didn’t know what we were going to do.

That seems slightly figured out, though, and more do-able. The pets are taken care of. The bed bug issue is being addressed. I should have a fairly smooth day at work tomorrow. The apartment is coming along and Jon and I have had some pretty deep conversations so we feel more ok than what we were.

Last night after he got home, we sat outside on the balcony and talked. I explained what depression was like for me, why it was affecting me currently the way it is, and that what I needed from him was for him to let me do whatever it is/was I was doing.

If I’m not hungry, don’t pressure me to eat. If I want to be alone and dip out of social obligations, don’t make me feel bad for doing it. If I seem to be sleeping a lot, let me sleep. I don’t need intervention. My “no”s aren’t “yes”s that need convincing. With so much uncertainty going on in multiple areas of my life, I need space and time to figure out not only my emotions regarding those situations but what choices and courses of action I want to take with them. I can’t figure those things out around people, and that inner soul-searching work is usually exhausting and nauseating in some instances.

I will eat when I’m hungry. As I have energy, I’ll get things done. I’m on the road to being better, but some days are still going to be better than others and the best thing he can do on the “down” days is to let me be down.

I think that’s it for today, Chromebook. I feel like I’m on solid ground today. I feel like I can feel accomplished by doing things, so I want to do them. Hopefully, I’ll be able to talk to you again soon.

Daily Post 216: Rambling About Nothing Important


Hello Chromebook,

It’s been a while…

I started writing a letter to mom, but that got interrupted by an emergent phone call from work. It got me extra hours. I didn’t have to use PTO to meet my 40. That was nice. I got to go to the clinic where Jon is training and see him on the floor. He’s doing well. And that’s not just me being a proud sister. That’s me as an experienced tech evaluating someone who is in training. He’s going to be fine, just like I thought and hoped he would.

So many things have happened, dearest Chromebook. Life has been crazy. Not just with a pandemic and now rioting and such. Personal life has been in flux. Constantly changing, constantly something new to figure out or adjust to… On top of that, the weather has been miserable, cold, rainy, cloudy… It’s made things harder than they normally would or should have been.

For a while, I was off of Zoloft. Things were going well. I felt awesome. It was sunny. I felt like I could handle the few things that were going on. And then it changed and I wasn’t ok again. It was subtle at first. Then worse. Then worse. Then worse until even I had to admit that I wasn’t doing well and maybe going back onto the medication would be beneficial.

I’ve been on it for about five days. I think it’s already started to build up into my system. Things don’t seem as bad or hopeless. Thoughts of self-harm are no longer there. I’m sleeping better. I’m performing well at work again. And finally, it’s sunny and warm outside.

I know it hasn’t been much time. Maybe it’s all in my head and simply a change in my perspective, but regardless of what is or isn’t causing me to be more ok, I’m grateful for it. I’m still low energy today, but it’s not a day where I wake up in the negative and have to struggle and fight to convince myself that it’s worth the effort to accomplish even the most minor of tasks.

I have counseling in an hour. I’m going to have to use you, Chromebook, instead of my desktop. Ox has my beast since his computer is having issues.

I don’t mind. You accomplish the things that I need to do at the moment. D&D will be interesting, but I feel like we can accomplish it together.

Counseling hasn’t been very productive the past few times. Mostly because I haven’t been able to self-reflect and so I don’t know what I need or should be talking about; working through. The last session was better. I’m hoping for this one to be productive as well. I’ll be able to continue my counseling sessions even though I’m not taking any classes this summer. That was news I was grateful to receive.

Since my sessions are through a service provided by my school I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to continue having them. Not the case though.

The game plan is still to go back to school in the fall for the LPN program. A lot of that feels sort of nebulous, though. Things are changing at work. Our regional operations director left a few months back. A new person took his place. A lot of my mentors are leaving the company now. My FA said she doesn’t have a new job lined up and can’t leave until June 11th. That doesn’t mean she’s staying. There was no, “I’m not going anywhere.” Sometimes what’s not said is more important that what is said and I feel this is one of those times.

I’ve already talked to Jon.

Me: Would you be super pissed if I left the company?

That led to a pretty extensive conversation yesterday evening after I got home from work. One of the things I said was how most people quit their boss not their job. If my FA leaves and some super bitchy person gets hired into her position I don’t want to feel stuck. That’s why I didn’t use the financial assistance my work offered for school. I don’t want to be trapped in an environment that slowly kills me.

There’s a lot of “What ifs” in regards to work and I won’t know how any of it turns out for a while. Jon is supportive of me making the choices that are best of my own well being. I assured him if I left, I wouldn’t do so without having something else lined up; ideally something better.

So we’ll see how that goes. There’s a part of me that aches at the thought of leaving. What would happen to my patients? Who would take care of them? They’re the ones who are going to suffer the most if management and staff changes and that’s not fair to them.

For the moment I want to leave those issues alone. There’s nothing I can do about the future other than letting it happen. I have no intention of going anywhere at the moment, and though there are management positions open now, I don’t think I will pursue them. Not when everyone I care about is leaving those positions. They’re leaving because the positions no longer align with their core values. That doesn’t seem like something I would want to step into.

Ox and I are doing better. For a while, we weren’t, more because of me then because of anything he was or wasn’t doing. I suffered from a 6.5 kidney stone for three weeks. The average size is typically 4mm or smaller. Anything higher than that, the ER usually hospitalizes you for. Of course, I was stubborn as fuck and didn’t go to the ER… Choosing instead to writhing on my bedroom floor in agony while dry heaving so hard I couldn’t breathe.

That was a Saturday evening. By Tuesday when the stone hasn’t passed I went to my primary care doctor. We decided to give it more time to move on its own. When it hadn’t he referred me to a urologist. They took x-rays. It was close to passing. Hold out just a little longer… A week later and another x-ray… It hasn’t moved. Time for our next option… Fuck my life…

I was being scheduled for surgery when it finally passed. Throughout that time I had waves of pain that typically required hydrocodone to manage. Though I had a doctor’s note saying I should not return to work until my symptoms went away, the clinic was so short-staffed that I had to work multiple times during those three weeks. It was awful. I was miserable and everyone around me knew it.

Luckily, I didn’t have to have surgery. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to pee in my life. The stone was tested. Calcium oxalate. Basically, I need to drink more water. I knew I was doing poorly with eating and drinking. With all of the other crap going on at the time with Jon moving and work being crazy, I didn’t have much of an appetite. I didn’t want to drink water. The thought of foods and liquids made me nauseous. I didn’t want to do anything other than not be around people, but that wasn’t an option so I did the best I could.

Well… my body wasn’t ok with my best and created the spawn of Satan to show me its displeasure. This kidney stone made my first one look like child’s play. I never knew when waves of pain would come, so I was in constant fear and anxiety over going out to do anything. I didn’t want to drive because what if a wave of pain happened while I was behind the wheel? The pain was always worse at night and so most of the time I only had 30 minutes to an hour of sleep before having to go to work.

Thankfully, that phase is over. I’ve been doing better about drinking. Still having a hard time with food. Most of the time I eat a protein bar or something small. Things seem to sit heavier on my stomach lately and I don’t like that feeling.

Since I have been feeling a bit better health-wise, if not emotionally, Ox and I had date night this past Sunday. Things are beginning to open back up again so we were able to have a nice sit-down lunch at a local restaurant. That evening, we worked on a puzzle we’ve had for a while. We’re almost done with it. Ox and I have plans to go out this afternoon once he’s off work. We’ve slept next to each other a few nights this week. It’s been nice to be near him.

Things have been sort of crazy with the kids due to the pandemic. We’ve had them more than normal and that, along with everything else, also throws off the reassurance I get from our “normal” routines. We’re still not really sure what’s going to happen in that regard, but Ox and I are both making a conscious effort to invest a bit more time into “us”.

Jon and I are doing well. My dad received a bonus from work again. The first time he got hazard pay he sent it to me and Jon to help us out with the move and settling into the new apartment. He did the same again last night. Jon is letting me keep most of his share to catch up on the money he owes me. He was unemployed for about a month and then had to wait a while before he started getting paychecks. I covered most of his expenses during that time with the stimulus money Ox and I received.

Jon intends to pay me back, and this is a step towards that. It makes me feel better about covering for him. I wish all the other times I covered for people were like this. Where it was worth it and didn’t fuck me over.

The financial game plan has changed a little. Since the three of us, Ox, Jon, and me, are in this together, it makes sense to look at all of our situations. Jon’s car is just as close to being paid off as mine, yet his car payment is nearly twice as much. Currently, we’re planning on paying off his car first. The amount I help payoff he will then start paying towards my car, and once that is done, we’ll snowball it into Ox’s car. If there’s a second stimulus check we could have all three cars paid off in a year, giving all of us nearly $1000 extra dollars to work with each month.

It could be an amazing situation. That would help out significantly when I go back to school and potentially cut my hours down to part-time. It’s another situation of waiting and seeing how everything lines up.

Financially, other things are going alright. I finally switched my phone over to StraightTalk which saves me $30 a month on my phone bill. Car insurance has been super cheap since my company has reimbursed part of my payments for the past two months. With people staying home and not driving as much, there haven’t been as many accidents and claims filed. My company is passing those savings onto its customers. I think that’s pretty awesome of them.

I received roughly $500 from my old apartment. That’s the security deposit and a bit of rent for the month since someone moved in during May.

While all of this money sounds awesome. I’ve been spending some of it so I don’t have millions of dollars sitting in my account. I’ve bought stuff for the kittens. A litter mat that they can’t chew on, a water fountain, cat dishes so they don’t have to get out of my plastic food containers anymore. I got a new shower curtain since I painted the bathroom; Summer Dragonfly. It’s the same color I had in Orlando. It makes a part of my brain happy seeing it. I am looking forward to painting the bedroom and getting blackout curtains so I can sleep in darkness once again.

I got a new phone case which I love. It’s a bright teal color. I don’t know why that color brings me peace but it does. I love holding the case in my hand and just… holding that color.

I signed up for a Spartan race… or rather… I spent $90 on gear and have a passcode that will allow me to sign up for a race between now and December of next year. I haven’t trained for so long. I know I’m nowhere near where I was. I’ve started doing yoga as a way to try to get back into the swing of things. Stretching has been nice. It took me nearly all of the first session to get my heels to touch the ground during downward dog, but I got there. The second session was better. I could go deeper into the stretches and it didn’t take my muscles as long to loosen up.

I think I’m all done writing for now, Chromebook. I know there’s so much more to work through, talk about, figure out, but I’m sort of done for now. Thanks for letting me talk about nothing important.

Oh! And here’s a picture of Dagger, ruining date night with his cuteness.

Tiny Tiger Demands Attention

Daily Post 184: Sick


My days have been going alright.

I’m sick currently with my pre-op appointment tomorrow at 8:30 AM. I talked to my boss about it. I’m concerned about my surgery date being pushed back even though the surgery is still a week away. I’m sure I’ll be over my sickness by then but I’m not sure I’ll seem well enough for my appointment tomorrow. My boss said if it’s just a cold they most likely will keep the original date, but there’s no guarantee. All I can do is continue to take it easy and see how tomorrow goes I suppose.

I missed a training session I was supposed to have at Omaha yesterday for work. I spent most of yesterday sleeping, trying to get better. After sleeping for 16 hours I do feel better. I’m not as congested. I’m not coughing as much. I’m not as tired though I am still a bit under the weather. I know the steps I need to take to get the annual training rescheduled. I’ll take care of that Thursday when I go back to work.

My Sociology class starts next Tuesday. My dad flys in next Tuesday as well. I work Thursday, Friday, and Saturday this week so our other tech can have her sinus surgery. The kittens have had their surgeries so I can not become a legit crazy cat lady. They’re recovering well and are back to terrorizing each other.

Ox has had the kids the past week since it’s been the holidays. We haven’t been spending much time together. Not only has he had the kids, he’s also been sick. I most likely caught whatever he had. Much lame… There hasn’t been a lot of cuddling. No kissing. All in an effort to keep me well enough for surgery. I’ve been handling the lack of contact better than I would have six months or a year ago, but it still sucks. I don’t know what else to say on the topic. I want to be touched and held and I can’t be. I feel denied and deprived of things I want and need and it didn’t even do anything in the end. I still got sick so what was the point in feeling like crap this whole time? What was the point in feeling so alone?

There’s a part of me who wants to work out and have the motivation and drive to do something other than “survive” but the larger portion of my self doesn’t care. It all feels pointless. I’ve been cross-stitching and watching stuff on Netflix. If I’m not busy and distracted with work then I feel depressed and apathetic.

As far as today goes, I want to make my shopping list for the week. I want to go out and actually do the shopping. I want to not be completely tapped out energy-wise after doing that, but I have the feeling I will be. Mostly from being sick, but also from the depression I feel in my bones. It’s like my body is lead. The effort it takes to move and do things outside of work isn’t “normal”, isn’t right. Isn’t “me” even though it is.

I know this isn’t how things will be for forever, but it’s hard to see a light at the end of the tunnel when I don’t know exactly what will happen post-surgery. Everything is nebulous and maybe this and potentially that. There doesn’t seem to be anything solid or real or tangible to grasp onto.

There was a day, this past Thursday I think, where I had been fairly depressed all day, but ended up cleaning the apartment fairly well. I found a pair of socks I had been missing for months. I have a trash bag full of things to donate. I cleaned up the computer desk and went through my “in” pile. It ended up being a good day. I felt better for having taken care of things that were bothering me.

There are a few projects I would like to get done before my dad gets here so the apartment can be a bit more presentable. Getting the kitchen table set up is one of those projects. I don’t have a place where we both could sit and talk. My space really isn’t set up to entertain guests and while that isn’t an issue most of the time, I feel like it will become one once my dad is here.

So… yeah… grocery shopping will most likely be the highlight of my day. Well… meal planning and then shopping… It feels like a lot. I’m already tired thinking about it.

Hopefully, this too shall pass.

Daily Post 148: It’s Melting!!!


Written a week ago to the day…
My bad. -_-;

Also… it’s no longer melting…
We’re getting 5 inches of snow tonight ;-;

I has an excite. : 3

Today was sunny and it got above freezing and it was a fantastic day and I actually made it to the gym and I got stuff done around the house and dinner turned out alright and I applied to college again and I’m still totally amped from my day and most likely won’t be able to go to sleep on time. But that’s ok. It was a good day. No regrets. : D


Now that I have that out of my system…

Monday was a pretty good day. The testing of the acid went well. So that’s done for the next month or so. I’m working with the float RN tomorrow. We have a visiting patient who will be receiving treatment with us. I’m hoping the day goes mostly smoothly. If not at least I have Friday to look forward to. Another day with my FA before my week off from work for a much wanted stay-cation.

There was amazing sexy time with Ox Monday night. Everytime I think it can’t get better he proves me wrong. I think I’m ok with this. The other part of my brain doesn’t think I could survive better. I mean, at some point it’s got to reach some sort of overload where the brain just gives out. Death by snu-snu or something.

I slept amazingly well last night. Being so physically and emotionally exhausted I think played more of a role in that then the Benadryl. I woke up with Ox, the feelings of afterglow still warming my skin. We shared a morning cigarette before he went to work. I went back to bed, wrapped up in one of his shirts and slept for another three hours.

When I woke up I ate and took my vitamin D gummies. I messaged Jon to let him know I was awake if he wanted to chat later. I made a to-do list for the day and then began plucking away at it.

I finished all of the reflection sections for chapter one in my book. As the days go on I’ll post those writings so as not to overload my blog with new posts. I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher. I put the kid’s clothes away along with my own. I watched a TED Talk about depression since I was curious about what is considered the opposite of depression.

I know it’s not happiness, but what is it then?

According to this particular TED Talk, the opposite of depression is vitality. I can see that connection. It was an interesting talk and one that I connected with at certain points.

I updated my calendar so that’s current. I looked up the schedule for the dojo since I know that got changed around a bit. I posted my first reflection post.

When Ox came home there was more sexy time. I ended up going to the gym a bit later where I rowed and stretched afterward.

When I came home I began looking into the LPN program for the community college I went to for my CNA course. I need to look into why I haven’t received anything about being added to the registry yet. I hadn’t realized so much time had passed since taking my state tests. I should have received something by now and I need it for the application process.

I sent an email to the head of the LPN program; the wife of my trainer at the gym. I told her the good news about passing the class and my tests and asked if it would be possible to meet in person again. I’m hoping to hear back from her tomorrow. Her advice and guidance were amazing and I’m hoping she can help me navigate through this next part of my journey.

Dinner wasn’t super awesome, but it wasn’t bad either. Ox had recommended I try to make my own recipes based on different things I’ve liked in the past; particularly Hamburger helper boxed meals that I like the taste of, but hate for how unhealthy they are for you.

So I tried my hand at a tomato basil zoodle recipe with burger. I think using more parmesan cheese with a heavy cream would give the sauce the consistency I’m going for. I also think more basil would have been better. I’ll be trying it again in the future, but for the rest of this week, I have meals figured out. I’ve talked to Mama Ox and Papa Ox and they’re both on board with what I want to make. Mama Ox has already given me money to help cover the grocery trip I plan to do on Thursday, which happens to be the one year mark for Ox and me.

We have plans to get lunch together before going grocery shopping. I know most people are probably reading that with a “WTF? Grocery shopping for an anniversary?” but it makes the girly side of my brain all warm and fuzzy. We’re going to be doing something domestic and couple-y together.

I guess that’s about it for today. Lots of mental work in regards to my leadership class. Getting back on the ball with the gym. Still doing good in regards to cooking dinner for everyone. Steps forward were made in the school department. And all of the snow is melting! I can’t put into words how awesome it was to go outside in shorts and sandals and not freeze. Spring can’t come soon enough. ❤

Daily Post 139: Just a Ramble


I’m a giant ball of “I don’t know what”. It’s annoying and frustrating and I feel like my mood matches the weather.

It’s been cold. There’s still snow on the ground and though the roads are decent, there’s more snow in the forecast. It’s been cloudy and icky and I miss the sun. I miss the warmth of summer. I miss mom and my old home and my brothers and my things that are still in storage and I know part of my issue is homesickness.

I’m still, in general, sick from my head cold and that isn’t helping anything. I have spurts of “with-it-ness” followed by intense episodes of tiredness. I spent most of yesterday sleeping. I have had small bouts of productivity but I don’t feel like I’ve been productive at all.

I feel mostly like my inner self is a five-year-old at the moment having a tantrum.

Left Brain: Why don’t we cross stitch? Maybe that will help us feel better.

Right Brain: I don’t want to!

Left Brain: Ok… why don’t we try writing? That could help sort out our emotions.

Right Brain: I don’t want to!

Left Brain: Alright… Well, we’ve been sick so why don’t we try relaxing and doing nothing.

Right Brain: I don’t want to!

This is where I swear if I could throat punch myself I would. I don’t even want to deal with me so I have no idea how Ox hasn’t thrown up his hands yet and told me to go figure myself out. You know… way from him… in traffic or something. Instead, he’s beyond understanding and patient. I don’t get it.

I keep being asked to cover shifts at different clinics, but since I don’t even want to work the days I’m scheduled to, I highly doubt I’ll be picking up anything extra. At least, so far, I’ve done amazingly well at dodging those bullets.

Fuck your overtime.

I made it through phase three of the interview process for my leadership class. The phone interview portion was Monday. I felt like it went well. I’ll know before February if I’m accepted or not. So I suppose at some point next week. More waiting… woo… said no part of my brain ever.

The tech who has been training is doing alright. She called out on Friday due to being sick. That leaves three days before she’s scheduled to be on her own.

That meant Friday it was just me and our float RN since my FA has been gone all week on vacation. The clinic hasn’t burned down to a pile of ashes. Yay!

Surprisingly, Friday was an amazingly smooth day. I think our RN has improved a lot since she first started covering shifts at our clinic. Still not the strongest worker, but nowhere near as rough as when she first started. Her and I high fived each other at the end of the day. It was nice. We survived and it wasn’t a brutal, hellish day from hell.

I still don’t feel like going back to work at the moment though and I feel that has more to do with burn out and this cloudy, lack of sun, sickness depression thing more than anything. It’s been the first week in a while where I actually have two days off in a row. Too bad I’ve done pretty much jack shit with them. : /

I’m taking the car in Wednesday evening to have it worked on Thursday morning, so that means I won’t be doing to the dojo Wednesday night. That means I most likely won’t go the rest of the week either because what’s the point? And that’s a question that keeps bouncing around my head.

What’s the point? In anything?

I don’t know if this is seasonal depression or what, but whatever it is, it sucks. It doesn’t feel like me but I know on some level, it is. This is my reaction to my thoughts and situation, and right now it feels like I’m sitting in a hole letting myself wallow instead of trying to get myself out. It’s a yucky, icy, snowy mush type of a hole and there really doesn’t seem like a point in getting out of it when the rest of the ground above is just as miserable and crappy as it is inside. At least inside the hole I get to sit down while I’m pouting.

It feels like I’m having to wait and I’m not good at that. I’m having to wait for my body to finish fighting off being sick. I’m having to wait for winter to finish doing its thing before the sun comes back and warms stuff up. I’m having to wait and wait and wait and wait and fuck this shit I’m going to flip tables instead because RRRRAAAAWWWWWRRRRR. >.<

I went to the gym last weekend. I was sore for a few days after but that’s to be expected. I’ve lost stamina; also to be expected. I didn’t lose any height on my box jumps which was nice. I can tell my muscles are stiff from disuse and that it will take a week or so to get back to the flexibility I was at. Overall it was a good benchmark for where I’m at. It wasn’t a good workout, but it wasn’t an awful one either. It was. It happened. There weren’t really strong feelings one way or the other.

There’s nothing stopping me from going today other than my intense desire to not go anywhere or see anyone or do anything. I’m thinking it’s more something I need to push through rather than listen to but I don’t know. What music would I listen to? How long would I stay? What would I do? What if I cry because I miss mom and everything feels pointless? I need to stop at the gas station for gas and veggies for my lunches so there’s that motivating/demotivating factor to it as well. I need to go out anyway so it would be good to go to the gym. But that means people and doing stuff and that sounds pretty sucky. But it would mean my days at work suck less because I wouldn’t have to worry about gas during the week or lunches while I’m there. My future self would thank me for it. My present self is glaring daggers at me…

I don’t like feeling like this but I don’t have a clear indication of what would help to get over it or ease the sandpaper feeling inside my skin. Nothing I think of sparks feelings of contentment or resolve or anything other than frustration and “nope”.

So… since none of it matters and I’m sort of screwed either way, I guess I’m going to go shower and go to the gym. I’ll listen to something either upbeat or angry and I’ll row for 20 minutes. Once I’m done I’ll stop at the gas station and then come home where I have permission to do whatever the hell I want, including nothing.

I’ll most likely end up cross stitching and finishing my meal prep. I’m letting the venison steaks marinate at the moment since I still need the broccoli to go with it, but I did mix up the potatoes already. Yes. I’m eating carbs this week. This is me not caring. : D

I’ve already gone through my emails since I had a stack of those. I’ve paid bills. I’ve unloaded and loaded the dishwasher. My computer desk is pretty clear. I’ve finished cleaning Jon’s cross stitch so I can get that ironed and mounted. I’m still working on scrubbing the pencil lines out of the cross stitch I did for Ox. I don’t remember having to scrub my stitching when I lived in Orlando. It’s annoying that soaking them in Oxiclean isn’t getting the pencil out the same way it used to. Oh well. Just another thing added to the list of differences I suppose.

One upside to the whole “Oxiclean no longer works” thing… It gave me a reason to go out to the craft store. I bought a chalk pencil. I’m giving it a shot with the new project I’m working on. It’s another silhouette; this time of a mermaid. I’m using a pretty blue which I had to get more thread for, too, so the craft store was going to happen regardless. I’m also out of fabric, but sadly the store was out of the count size and brand I like so I guess that means at some point I have to go back… oh, shucky darn…

I’m almost done with the mermaid’s hair. From there I’m moving on to working on her head and arms. I’ll try to be better about taking progress pictures. I’ll also, at some point, remember to post the pictures of the fairy I stitched, and Jon’s since it’s done.

I feel a little better. Maybe showering and going to the gym will help keep that going.

Daily Post 136: Post-Test and the Other Three Weeks


I passed my state tests. I passed with flying colors on the skills portion, including manual blood pressure, and with an 88 on the written portion. The 88 sort of eats away at me. I would have liked for it to be in the 90s. But when they ask things like, “Your resident wants to vote. What do you do?” it’s not really fair. The class taught me that residents had the right to vote, not what I am supposed to do as a CNA. Do I request the ballet myself on their behalf or inform the charge nurse? Nothing in the book told me what to do. Nothing in the class told me what to do. So now I have a 50/50 chance of getting the question right. Or wrong. There were several questions like. Nothing about proper temperature or blood pressure ranges. No “What does this abbreviation mean?” It’s frustrating, but for the time being, it’s over. No more classes to stay up late for. No more three hours naps before work the next day. No more discussion posts which aren’t worth the time to read or reply to. It’s done. It’s over. I don’t have to think about school until possibly October.

And no more six-day work weeks. I made it through that stint of the holiday season and all of the emotional roller coaster that goes with overworking myself during one of the hardest times of the year for me.

I made it through my birthday. Lil’ Ox baked a cake for me with Mama Ox. I blew out my candles after everyone sang happy birthday to me. I opened the presents I was given. I didn’t cry at work while people told me happy birthday. I saved it all for home where Ox held me while I cried on the front porch and admitted to being sad and missing mom.

I made it through Christmas and the week of having the kids here while working every day and having no true alone time. Lil’ Ox and I stitched a fair amount. Ornery Ox and I made a trip to the gas station, just the two of us. I stayed home alone while everyone else went into town to spend a few hours with the rest of the family. I talked to my brothers and my dad. I’ve even replied to all of the text messages and Facebook messages I’ve received over the past few weeks.

I passed my annual skills check at work yesterday. Actually, everyone at my clinic passed their skills check on the first try so we’re getting pizza tomorrow for lunch to celebrate.

I also cannulated our patient’s new fistula yesterday morning so I should be NFACT certified now as an expert cannulator.

Our new tech was there yesterday. She’s going to be in training with me for the next month. We get along extremely well together. She’s also super into organization and to-do lists so I think once the clinic opens up to six days a week again that we’ll be able to transition into it fairly well. We have similar mindsets and are both open to creating / editing systems and finding what works and changing what doesn’t. She’s open to trying the systems that I’ve developed over the past 10 or so months of working by myself and I’m open to changing my ways and trying new things. As long as we maintain communication I think we’ll be able to work through any friction or challenges that will pop up in the coming weeks and months.

There’s a new RN who started training this week as well. She’s been an ER nurse for the past however many years, so I think she’ll actually do fairly well. I haven’t interacted with her all that much but my impression is that she’s sharp. She’ll catch on quick and she’s used to a fast-paced, fluctuating environment. She’s used to having to react quickly to critical situations. I think once she becomes comfortable with the machines that she’ll be alright. It would be nicer if she were a little more open and friendly, but she’s not un-friendly so at least there’s that. I can work with distant and maybe as we interact more we’ll warm up to each other.

So, things at work are going well. I’m planning to take the second week of February off for vacation. I’ll be staying at home and not really do a whole lot other than not working. There currently aren’t plans for amazing productiveness or any trips to stress or plan over. Just a week of self-care essentially. Taking a step back and recharging my batteries. The new tech will, ideally, be through training and comfortable doing things on her own and if not I would only a 20-minute drive away to come help if needed.

This is the first week in a while where I’m only working three days and it’s only this morning where I’m beginning to feel more like myself and less on the verge of burnout. The thought of grocery shopping doesn’t feel like sandpaper under my skin. The thought of socializing still feels heavy, but not as much as it did.

I’m planning to take the last week of March off to visit Orlando, as well. It will be Jon’s birthday. My dad will actually be in Florida with my half-sisters visiting Disney. We’re thinking of trying to meet up, all of us, one evening for dinner.

And there’s a Warrior Dash in Kansas this summer. Originally I wanted to try to run the one in Florida scheduled for February, but I like the new plans more. I haven’t been going to the gym or the dojo. I know I won’t be where I want to be within a month. The new game plan gives me more time to ease back into my self and to continue at a pace I can be successful with.

In addition to all of the events I have been a part of and gone through, it’s also a new year. I don’t have resolutions. My goal was to survive and I did. I didn’t get Ox’s Christmas gift done like I wanted, so it’s turned into my “one-year” gift for him. That’s coming up. Hard to believe I’ve been here in Nebraska for as long as I have. Looking back at the past year makes me realize how much I have accomplished for work and my career, but also with my health, and with my relationships, specifically with Ox. I have been far from stagnant in any area of my life.

I also submitted my essay for the leadership course I applied for. I don’t think I’ll be heartbroken if I don’t get chosen. I’ll know tomorrow so we’ll see I suppose. I don’t think it will be as heavy of an obligation as what my CNA class was, but I’m also ok with not adding more to my plate. Whatever happens, happens and I’ll figure it out from there. I do think the essay came out better than I thought it would. It’s definitely better than the first draft I wrote.

Ox and I are doing well. He’s been amazingly supportive and encouraging during this roller coaster of a ride. He was there for me after my state test. He kept the kids entertained on the days I needed alone time. He’s cooked me eggs so I have breakfast while I’m at work. He’s helped with the laundry and making the bed. He’s listened to me talk and cry and helped me feel secure. I don’t think I would have done nearly as well these past weeks if it weren’t for his support and I’m grateful he’s in my life.

We had Tuesday off together since it was a holiday. The morning started with a lot of tears and crying, mostly because it was the first day off where I could begin emotionally processing through nearly a month worth of experiences. It left me feeling fragile and tired for most of the day but it was a very nice, quietly productive, and connecting day in spite of those feelings.

We cleaned the inside of our computers which was something we had talked about a few weeks ago. We ended up going into town for breakfast at Cracker Barrel. It was crowded and busy but we had a pleasant server and though it was six degrees outside, it was nice to be spending time together out of the house. We went to Best Buy and Walmart. I got a peppermint mocha from Star Bucks with a gift card he got from his work. I now have a pair of warm gloves to keep my fingers from freezing; the last piece of winter gear I was missing. We were even able to get a case of Cotton Candy Bang from the gas station since GNC was sold out and not going to get a shipment in for a while. While I could have made do with the Sour Head flavor I still have a few cans of, knowing that I have my favorite flavor to look forward to gave me warm fuzzy feelings about waking up on my workdays.

Ox and I got a USB / outlet wall mount to go above our bedside table. That meant we could get rid of the alarm clock that was taking up space and never being used aside from charging the phones. Not that I have strong feelings about an unused alarm clock taking up my cross-stitching space or anything…

The wall mount also gave me warm fuzzy feelings and actually did a surprising amount of work in regards to battling back the grief/depression of the past few weeks. It gave me a small, little project to look forward to when we got home. It made me want to go home and to do something other than nothing. It was one, small change to make things in the room better. And I keep saying “me” and “our” though, in truth, Ox was the one to set everything up. I didn’t do anything other than spend money and carry a bag into the house. He ran the cord and attached the mount to the wall. He’s the one who got rid of the alarm clock and freed up more space for me and my things.

Still, I can’t deny that the changed helped me. One, small step forward that makes all of the other steps not seem so bad. One step got accomplished so other steps can be made. It doesn’t have to be giant leaps that require energy and motivation and a mass amount of effort that I don’t feel I have. Things can be small and manageable while still being fulfilling.

There was a lot of quietly productive things about Tuesday that helped warm me on the inside and fight back the sadness that I’ve been struggling with.

I know I’ve been… something recently. I don’t know if it’s depression or grief since they feel so similar to me. I know burnout was part of the mixture which always makes me more sensitive to events, but I think Tuesday things started turning around. Our small bedroom project helped. Passing my skills test yesterday marked the last major stressor I had to get through. I’m not going to say it’s smooth sailing from here because I work dialysis. There’s no such thing as “normal”. But things should settle down a bit and I’m grateful for that. I will have more time to focus on myself and my inner world and my homeworld; my relationship world.

I’ve already been fairly productive today, and that too makes me feel better. I’ve gone through my emails, replying to comments on my tutorials and such. I resubmitted the rebate for the contacts I bought with the proper receipts. I’ve already put dye in my hair so I can rinse it out before much longer. I made a to-do list for my car on Tuesday so I have a game plan for that. I’ve taken stock of the bathroom so far, writing down things I need to get while I’m at the store; things I normally forget until I’m taking a shower and remember, “Oh yeah, I’m running low on body wash. I should write that down once I dry off….”

I’ve gone through most of my “inbox” stack of papers. Most of the things that are left are recipes I need to make a decision about. Jon should be calling me before too long so we can chat for a bit and catch up with each other and our lives.

Overall I think I’m on the right track. I still have a long ways to go to get things cleaned up, situated, and back to how they were, but I’m taking the steps I need to and I think I’m being mindful while I do it. I’m going to continue to take this week easy. I may go to the dojo tomorrow night. I may go Saturday, but I’m not holding myself to an obligation of it. I would like to cook dinner for everyone since that’s something I haven’t been doing as much as I was when I first moved here.

This week is about breathing and letting go of all of the stress and anxiety I’ve had to contend with over the past three weeks while getting back in touch with myself and the things I want; the things that make me feel happy, or at least content with myself and connected with my true inner priorities.

And so, with that, I guess I’m going to go so I can keep plucking away at the small to-do list I wrote for myself today. Writing was one of the things on there and I’m glad I took the time to do it. I know there are a lot of details from the past three weeks that will be forgotten about and left unwritten but I feel like I got a majority of the events. I’m glad I wrote about Tuesday because that really was the first step, the first day towards getting back to myself. Maybe I’ll be able to write more regularly in the coming weeks.

Letters to Mom 021: Please Be There


Hey mom,

It’s the 11th. Only nine days until my birthday. Only nine days until the day I became your daughter.

Only eight days until whatever birthday celebration happens at my clinic since my FA found out the 20th is my birthday and we’re closed that day.

Only eight days until the bombardment of “happy birthday!” starts.

I’m sorry, but I still don’t want it to be my birthday. I don’t want to go to class tonight and take my test and pass. I don’t want to not be able to call you. I don’t want to go through another birthday where I don’t hear your voice. And I’m sorry that these wants infect the rest of my day.

I’m sorry I came home last night after a mildly good day at work and wanted to give up. A patient infiltrated his arm trying to cover his cough. The acid I was mixing for the clinic was testing really low for its temperature so I had to call Biomed. When I was leaving the clinic I couldn’t get the front door to lock properly and had to call my boss.

None of those things were earthshattering. None of them really affected the day. All of them got figured out. But after coming home and cooking dinner, I was done. I didn’t want to do anything else. I wanted to give up on the day and have it be over, so that’s what I did. I went to bed. I didn’t wake up any better and I don’t have a legitimate reason for feeling this way, at least it doesn’t feel like it.

There wasn’t some recent awful event to justify what I guess is depression.

I’ve been back home for over a week so I can’t say that it’s stress from the trip anymore. At least I don’t think I can. I made it through Thanksgiving, so I can’t say it’s that…

There’s not something I can point to and say, “This. This right here. This is why I’m sad and depressed and apathetic. This is why nothing matters right now. This is why I hurt. This is why I’m tired.” I don’t have a reason and so I’m struggling right now, mom.

I’m sad and I don’t have a reason for it. I hurt. I’m tired, of everything and nothing is really making me feel better or helping me cope.

I guess I need to let you know that I miss you. Still. Always. I guess I need to let you know that I haven’t cried in a while because I don’t give myself a chance to. I instead pick up over time and take classes and go on work trips. I keep myself busy to the point where I get to here and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

I liked my trip. I wanted to take this class. I’m happy to help the other clinics out.

I still miss you and underneath all of my busy-ness, I’m still hurting. I’m still wounded and not really all that ok. More ok than I was but not ok enough to not dread the 19th or the 20th. I’m going to have to force smiles onto my face over and over again as my heart contracts, knowing that I can’t explain why those words hurt so deeply because it’s no one’s intention to hurt me but that doesn’t change the fact that they will, that they do.

I wish I could hear you wish me luck on my test. I wish it was you telling me that I will do fine instead of Jon. I wish it was you I was brainstorming ideas with for my leadership essay.

I wish so many things and it all just sort of sucks today, for no reason other than I had today off and finally had a chance to realize that some things still just suck because they suck. It’s no one’s fault. Some facts are just sort of lame like that.

I wish we could talk. I wish I could know how you’re doing. I wish you could tell me about your day. I wish I knew you were ok and that death isn’t all that bad. That once you’re dead there’s this other side, whatever it is, and that it’s different but there are positive things about it. Sort of like taking a new job. “I miss my old team and there’s this one annoying chick in human resources, but everyone is super nice and friendly, and the company has a good benefits package. The commute to work is pretty nice and I’m working on this nifty project,” type of a thing.

I wish I knew if you missed being alive. I wish I had known to ask more questions. I wished I had known to listen to your stories more.

I wish I was better at grieving and being depressed rather than letting it eat away at my days like it does. I wish I had had it in me to make myself go to the gym today. I wish I had it in me to care about how many carbs I eat. I wish I had it in me to actually stop smoking like I keep thinking about. But I don’t think I can right now, mom, and I don’t think I need to be sorry over that. I don’t feel sorry and part of me wonders if that’s from the grief/depression/whateverthisis. Being sorry means you feel something, and right now I mostly don’t.

I feel mostly frustration with myself for feeling this way, but that’s about it. The only emotion I really feel is in response to my lack of feeling anything… Oh, and more frustration because it’s frustrating to feel frustrated. Gah. Talk about a vicious cycle of lameness. : /

I feel bad for not having more to talk about but I can’t really think much past the words, “I miss you.” My mind just kind of gets stuck there. I miss you. I wish you were here. I wish we could talk. I wish I could give you a hug. I feel like it’s the same things I always write when I write to you. It’s like maybe I’m stuck or stagnating in my grief. I’ll be fine until I’m not and then all of a sudden I feel like I’m regressing or not doing well enough. Things I’m normally fine with will bother me or be amplified.

I’m going to go to class today, mom. Mostly because I have to, but I wanted you to know that even though today sort of sucks for no reason that I’m still going to go. I’m not going to fail my class even though I can’t call you and tell you I passed. I’m not going to not take my state skills test just because we can’t celebrate together. I’m sorry all of these stupid, small, silly things are so hard sometimes, mom. I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me to be but I have to say those stupid words so they can hopefully stop eating away at the inside of my brain. I’m sorry and I’m sorry I’m sorry.

Please help me get through this. Please tell me that you’re still here and that everything will be ok. Please tell me I’ll do fine on my test and that I worry too much. Please tell me tomorrow will be better and worth it. I know most of those are unfair of me to ask, but right now I really just want to be an eight-year-old kid and cry and have you tell me that everything will be ok. The monsters aren’t really real. The bad things will go away and can’t hurt me.

But these monsters are real and no matter how much I wish them away the 20th will still come without your voice. Another year will pass. Another scar to mark my survival. I’m just so… tired, mom. I’m tired. I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of being sad.

I wouldn’t change anything, though. I don’t want to miss you less. I’m not tired of missing you, of loving you, of caring that you died and that you meant something to me; that you still mean something to me. So I guess I really don’t know what I’m tired of because I feel like saying I’m tired of hurting means I’m tired of loving you and that’s not true. It will never be true. I will always love you and it will always be worth the pain I feel.

I don’t know, mom. I really don’t know right now but I’m sort of glad I wrote. I’m glad I had that realization; that if given the choice I wouldn’t want to hurt less because that would compromise or diminish my love for you and the Universe can go fuck itself if it thinks I’m going to let that happen. I would fight to keep my pain. To the bitter end.

I really wish I wasn’t so confusing sometimes. I wish things were easy and straightforward. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t an INFJ full of contradictions but then I wouldn’t be me and I sort of like me most of the time.

Thanks for listening to me ramble, mom. I think it helped a little. I need to shower for class. Please wish me luck. Please be there when I pass. Please let me feel you so I don’t feel alone. I know that’s not fair to ask but please don’t let me feel alone tonight. I really don’t want to be alone right now, mom. I really just want to feel like you’re still with me and that even though it’s different now that it’s still ok. That we’re still ok. That we still love each other and that we’ll figure it out somehow.

I love you, mom. Forever and for always I will love you.

Daily Post 080: Finishing the Recap


So last week started with what will forever be known as the horrifically sockless Monday. I continued improving at work and doing more things on my own like spinning labs, packing labs, and switching the CWP over to disinfect and taking it back out of disinfecting for normal operation. It was also the first week of working on my own, out of training. I was able to get measurements for things like shelving units and plastic bins to eventually make different areas/processes at the clinic easier.

Work-wise it was a good week.

Emotionally, the week had its ups and downs. Monday was pretty bad. Unintentionally making a mom joke didn’t help anything in that regard. As far as my writing goes, I recapped all the way up to Saturday evening, which Saturday was an amazingly good day.

That brings us up to Sunday, so I’ll continue from there.


April 1st – Sunday

April. Mom’s death month. And it’s not even like it’s a week into the month. Only four days later… Maybe it’s because her death happened so close to the first that the changing of months feels significant.

I woke up to snow on the ground; about an inch of it. It was still coming down, too. We were projected to get roughly three inches, which we did.

We had a good breakfast that morning. Mama Ox made monkey bread, Ox made eggs, and I made bacon. Real bacon, not the microwavable things they typically buy.

I didn’t do much of anything for the rest of the morning.

I was sad and it was hard to fight through the apathy and sadness. The weather didn’t help since it was cold. Ox helped a bit. Laundry needed to get done so he carried the basket into the laundry room for me.

Eventually, somehow, we ended up going to the U-Stop in town to do minor grocery shopping. It’s really a gas station with a mini food mart built into it. It’s nice and clean inside and their prices aren’t bad.

I guess it helped that the snow did stop in the afternoon and the sun came out and the day did warm up nicely. It helped that Ox was there to make it feel less like I was fighting my battle on my own.

Did it still suck? Yes. But not all of it sucked and it was up to me to recognize that fact or not. he could have been a jerk and not helped at all with the laundry. He could have given me shit for feeling sad instead of being understanding. He could have been harsh or distant verses encouraging and warm.

The trip to the store helped. Being productive usually does, regardless of how hard it is to start that upward trend/turnaround. I was able to get chicken and instant potatoes to make decent lunches for my work week. That led to a conversation with Mama Ox when I got back to the house about what to do for dinner. I said that I could make Parmesan chicken with the leftover seasoning packet I had. That led to another trip to the store for more chicken and to me making dinner for everyone.

The meal didn’t turn out as good as I wanted. I should have used more sauce. The whole package of noodles ended up being too much so there was a ton leftover. The bag of frozen broccoli sucked and I really should have bought some fresh instead of being cheap frugal.

It wasn’t an awful meal, but it wasn’t one that left everyone saying, “That was good.” It was a meal and no one left the table hungry or puking and swearing off my cooking for the rest of forever. Small victories I suppose.

The day ended up being a good day even though it was rough in the morning. I was looking forward to going to work and being able to set up my shelving unit next to the bleach sink.

I’m pretty sure I played WoW for a bit. I don’t remember specifically when I did that, but it did happen over the weekend at some point. I basically screwed around in Outlands completing super low-level quests and one shotting elite mobs that use to kick my ass. It was a nostalgic feeling. And gratifying…

That fel reaver totally deserved getting destroyed. Just sayin’ >.>


April 2nd – Monday

I worked Monday. It was a smooth day. I liked how I knew how the clinic would be since I worked Saturday. No guesswork as to if the lab packs were made or if the correct supplies would be laid out.

Nope. Everything was exactly how I wanted it because I made it that way.

The first shift went well. After my break, I put the shelves together. I love them. ❤

The second shift went well until four out of six people wanted off their machine at the same time. Holy fuck was that a bunch of crazy. Me and the RN survived though and once everyone was taken care of I spent the remaining time cleaning stations and getting ready to close up for the day.

I would have left the clinic early but I ended up staying to talk to our AA, administrative assistant. I haven’t had a chance to really interact with her all that much, so I had a distant level of respect for her but no real opinion of her as a person. After talking with her though, my opinion has changed to one of “You’re one of the people I super like”.

She showed me where the extra highlighters were. If that’s not true love I don’t know what is.

All joking aside, though, she was amazingly complimentary about how I’m helping to improve the clinic and she’s glad to have me as one of the solid, stable members of the crew.

She was supportive of my suggestion to rearrange a few things in the stock room for ease of use. She said if there was anything that I wanted to be purchased for the clinic to let her know. We talked about the future prospect of getting a second shift on TTS and she told me a bit of her story and why she is only part-time for the company at the moment.

She even emailed me a few files so I can print things out when I need them, versus having to wait or ask for someone to do it for me. I know that may not seem like a big deal. I mean, it’s not like their top secret files or anything, but I do feel it shows a level of trust that didn’t have to be given. It helps make me more independent as a worker. I’m able to be helpful rather than a hindrance. It’s a good feeling.

That actually led to how we were able to share part of our stories with each other. She had been trying to find my email address in the company directory, but could only find a Jennifer Conley in Orlando, so she didn’t think that was me since I’m clearly not in Orlando. I said no, that was me, that I had been working at the downtown clinic in Orlando, Florida before moving to Nebraska. She had no idea I had moved or been part of the company beforehand. She said that made her even more comfortable with me working at the Beatrice clinic because I had previous experience.

Even though it would have been nice to leave work early rather than on time, I’m glad I stayed. Getting to know her better makes me more comfortable with having to interact with her in the future and I think our conversation gave each of us a better understanding and level of respect for each other as people as well as coworkers.

Because we had so many noodles left over from the failed mediocre parmesan dinner the night before, I stopped by the Walmart near my clinic to pick up a few ingredients to make a soy sauce noodle recipe I found online. I am not a fan of that Walmart, or any Walmart really, so I’ll most likely avoid having to go there in the future, but I was able to get the things I needed. Since my mission was successful I headed home.

Dinner was super quick to make. It turned out pretty awesome, too. Hopefully, that makes up for the not amazing-ness of Sunday.

I had messaged Warren super early Monday morning; before I left for work which would have been around 5 am his time. I asked him to please reply to my previous message. You know… the one I sent on Friday asking about my spare key, the internet account, and our financial situation. I had emailed my old landlord Friday and was told everything was square with the lease. Ms. Side Chick is on it. I’m off it. We’re done in that regard.

I had let Warren know what the landlord had said, but still wanted answers for everything else. I had my “not amused” face on as I sent him a text Monday morning.

Me: Dude… Seriously… I know your phone is an extension of your hand because I’ve lived with you for a year. I know you’ve seen my message. I know you’re choosing not to reply to me. This is why people think you’re a dick when I tell them about our situation and why it’s hard to defend you against their opinions. You’re not doing much to make yourself look “non-dickish”.

He did eventually reply that evening, but it was after I had gone to sleep so I didn’t get his reply until Tuesday morning; yesterday.

All in all, Monday was a good day. I don’t remember being sad. I knew I was worried about the next two days since they were/are my days off. I was glad I wasn’t going to have to go to work, but at the same time, not having anything requiring me to be busy left me worried since the sadness and grief of mom’s death would have a better chance of seeping in.

I curled up in bed with Ox and went to sleep, turning my alarm off before doing so since I didn’t want to wake up at 3 am on a day I didn’t have to.


April 3rd – Tuesday – Yesterday

Yesterday started ok. It was weird not having to be up before Ox. Normally I’m the one up and dressed, lunch packed, breakfast eaten, sometimes showered, other times not with a bandana strategically covering up my bedhead used to keep my hair out of the way while I’m working…

We still did our “goodbye cigarette” in the morning only it was reversed with me being the one to crawl back into bed and Ox being the one to leave for work, off to be the breadwinner for the day.

I think I didn’t make yesterday easy for myself. I was still fuzzy and sort of headachey from drinking the night before. I ended up oversleeping with left me feeling groggy when I did actually wake up. I didn’t have a reason to shower, so I didn’t. Instead, I had breakfast then decided that I was still tired and got back in bed, in the dark. I basically stewed in my own thoughts of “this is the eve of mom’s death” for most of the day.

Ox called me a few times. He’s been talking to one of his friends and he wants me to meet her. It worked out that yesterday would have been a good day to do it. The thought of having to go out into the world, to interact with anyone, anything, hurt. The thought of doing anything hurt, much like the way I imagine physical therapy to hurt.

You know you need to do it. You know it’s beneficial and that doing nothing is only going to make things worse in the long run, but the thought of having to stretch those muscles is agonizing because you know it’s going to suck. It’s going to take a lot of work. It’s going to take a lot of time and effort and determination and willpower and discipline, and sometimes you really just don’t want to do it. Sometimes it just sucks and you need to have those moments of self-pity where you allow yourself to feel that suckage in all its unadulterated realness.

Everytime Ox called me yesterday I ended up crying. He mentioned that I sounded sad during our second call and I said I was. It was as if finally being able to admit to someone that today sucked made it more ok; less like an overwhelming weakness I was trying to hide from.

It was ok to be sad because being sad isn’t inherently a bad thing.

He ended up convincing me to shower and to drive into town. We could get dinner together, just us. We could drive up to his friend’s work and say hi, or not. Staying at home all day hadn’t helped anything though, so maybe trying being out of the house would.

I agreed that going out had a better shot than staying in since staying in had done nothing but make things worse.

So I showered. Getting up and doing it was hard at first, but I felt slightly better after doing it. I had done “something” so doing “something else” didn’t seem as bad; as hard.

I got dressed, putting on the overcoat/jacket thing I wore to my interview during my initial trip to Nebraska. I knew that I felt injured internally, emotionally. I don’t know why, but putting in that one small extra effort to make myself look a bit more presentable made me feel a bit better about myself. Yeah, I’m still sad, but you know what? I still did amazing enough in an interview to get a job that I’m doing well with. I can still look classy while being injured. I can feel broken and still function because I’m doing it, right here, right now.

I guess the jacket thing was more of a visual reminder to myself that have I done, and am doing, well regardless of what my emotions make me feel sometimes.

I picked up the Amazon package that had been sitting on the porch all morning. It had been there when had my first cigarette after waking up, but the thought of bringing it inside with me was too much at the time. It would get done eventually… by someone…

I’m glad that I’m the one who did it and that I didn’t let the apathy I had been struggling with all day make someone else’s day mildly inconvenient. I’m able-bodied enough to pick up a box and put it on the kitchen table, damnit.

Me: Fuck you, Brain. I KNOW I’m not that weak and feeble.

I cried almost the whole time on the drive into town and I really can’t explain why. The sun had finally come out and though it was still cold, there were puffs of warmth mixed in, like the Earth is struggling to wake up out of its winter sleep. Coughs of spring mixed into the fierceness of the wind.

It hurt to drive. It hurt to be outside, slightly dressed up, driving into town to do normal things on a day that isn’t normal.

It’s the “Eve”.

It’s the night code STEMI was called on mom. It’s the night she bled all over her hospital gown. It’s the night I didn’t sleep and I worried about her bleeding out while I held her hand because the heparin wouldn’t let her blood clot properly.

Today isn’t normal, but it’s sunny and I’m showered and I’m about to go do whatever it is I’m about to go do and it sucks and I cried because, for me, all of those facts suck. For me, the memory of April 3rd, 2016 will always suck, no matter how bright and sunny and warm the day may be.

Ox and I met at the parking lot of the PetCo in town since his snake needed more mice. I had a few minutes alone to compose myself and to come to terms with the fact that mom wanted me to get through yesterday. She wouldn’t have wanted me to stay home in the dark being sad. I know she would understand my sadness, but she would want me to find something about the day to enjoy, no matter how small so I was going to try to. For her. For me. For us.

One of the things Ox and I ended up doing was going to a HyVee and getting Bang energy drinks for me. There was a Super Saver in the plaza we met up at, but they don’t sell my drink and the thought of having one made me feel better in one of those silly, slightly childish “a piece of chocolate would give me warm fuzzy feelings” sort of way.

When I asked if we could go get one, Ox said sure. It nearly brought me to tears all over again because I know it was a silly request and yet he made it seem like it was no problem at all. He could have said no or asked why and forced me to explain all of the things I didn’t want to explain, but instead, he said yes with a smile and drove us in his car so we could be together, leaving mine in the parking lot until our impromptu adventure through the town was done for the evening.

He drove to a nearby HyVee where I got 12 cans of Bang because they were on sale. I don’t know why those drinks are so amazing, but having one of the Cotten Candy flavored cans makes me feel like I’m drinking liquid childhood or something. It was another small action that helped keep up the emotional improvement.

We drove to the Home Depot where his friend worked since she was getting off work soon. I was nervous. I mean, obviously… It’s a person I’ve never met before. Their sole purpose in life is to attack me on sight…

Me: You can chill the fuck out, Brain. I would be totally ok with that right now…

While Ox and I waited, we looked at paint and wood stain for the kitchen cabinets. We walked back and looked at the countertops since his mom wants new ones. We talked about color scheme and tile backsplashes for the kitchen walls and looked at different pantry cabinets since I want to get one for the kitchen. We talked about how we could move things in the house around and what type of flooring we want to put down in the addition once it’s done. We talked about how a lot of things in the house feel half down and how I’m not wrong in feeling that way; that’s an issue with his dad. Projects not getting finished.

It was a really awesome experience. I’m not sure if it was intentional on Ox’s part, but I’m grateful for the time we spent together in the store looking at home improvement stuff. It helped me remember there’s a lot of things in the future I want to be here for and that I’m looking forward to being a part of.

I was also able to get a white milk crate for work. I want one as a “shred” box for the treatment floor. It’s so annoying having to constantly walk back behind the nurse’s station to put documents into the bin there. Now I have a crate I can put on the main tech counter. I can put treatment sheets and lab forms and all sorts of paper in there and at the end of the day I can take my crate and empty it all at once. It’s a small, trivial thing, but it makes me happy knowing that my workflow will be improved.

I did get to meet Ox’s friend. She seems nice and I’m curious to get to know her better. I think we have had very different experiences, I also think we’re very different people. I don’t think we’ll be best buds or BFFs or hang out buddies, but it would be nice to know if we wanted to hang out with people other than ourselves that Ox and I have people we can call up and spend time with.

Once we left Home Depot we decided to try Buffalo Wings and Rings again, the wing place we had tried to go to Saturday evening. I can’t lie, part of the reason I’ve wanted to go there is simply because the name makes me smile because I think it’s cute. The other part is because I really like their color scheme. A very small, insignificant portion is because I want to find another wing place. I had already determined before moving that nothing would compare to my sports bar in Orlando.

BW&R was much quieter yesterday evening and though the food wasn’t as good as my sports bar in Orlando, it definitely is better than Buffalo Wild Wings in my book and overall I was satisfied with my meal. I would be ok with going back there. In fact, it might be where I go for lunch today since I’ll be in town.

Dinner was nice. Once we were done we drove back to my car and picked up snake food before coming home. I spent most of the evening writing which helped iron out details and timelines in my head. It helped shift things into a clearer, less sad perspective.

I’m glad to say that even though yesterday was hard that it turned out to be a pretty amazing day; one that I’m grateful for experiencing.


That brings us to today. April 4th, 2018. The two-year anniversary of my mom’s death. I… am ok so far. Better than I was yesterday. I’m already showered. I’ve written again and was able to remember all of the positive things of yesterday. I have therapy scheduled for 1 pm today and I’m actually looking forward to that phone call. I haven’t spoken with my therapist in almost two months now. There’s so much that has happened that I want to share with her. She’s been on this journey of recovery with me since the beginning. It was only about a month after mom’s death that I sought out counseling, and I do believe it’s one of the reasons I’m as stable and strong as I am today.

I need to buy a flower today. A second one to go into the vase I have by mom’s urn. I want to go to the gym today because I know mom wants me to keep living my life and to actually live it rather than exist through it. I want to cook dinner tonight since I didn’t last night and I already know the recipes I want to do. I’ll most likely need to stop by the store for a handful of things. Making sure laundry is squared away so I have scrubs and socks for the next three days would be a smart move, too.

Since I have a few hours before my phone call I think I’m going to try going through and organizing the piles on top of the freeze and cabinet in the laundry room. Maybe I’ll even poke around inside of the cabinet if I have time.

I don’t know. Today has possibilities and I can still enjoy them, experience them, while I miss my mom.

Today, two years ago, my mom died, and yet I am still her daughter. That is the fact I take comfort in right now. Life can’t change that fact. Death can’t change that fact. She and I are forever connected because I’m her daughter and she’s my mother.

Fuck you, Universe. You can’t take that away from us.

And with that, I’m going to go live my life today because I know that’s what my mom wants me to do.

I love you, mom. Forever and for always.

Daily Post 057: Waiting


I used to write for myself. I used to sit here and let my mind wander through itself, my fingers moving over the keyboard, typing out the melody in my head. The one that always seems so hard to put into words when talking with people. The one that not even I know the notes to half the time. It’s only after writing, after going back and really reading what I wrote than any sort of sense can be made from it. The logic, the pattern, emerging from the chaos of emotions. They, the emotions, exist for a reason, but without writing, that reason always seems elusive, nebulous, and half-formed.

I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been going to the gym or the dojo. I’ve been eeking by. And already I’m on the verge of tears, not so much because I’m depressed. I feel I’m actually recovering from the recent lull in my emotional state. But tears from acknowledging pain. From no longer forcing myself to keep limping forward. From finally sitting, resting, and assessing my wounds, the damage, the trail I’ve traveled and where I have yet to move to.

I know for a while I felt hopeless and pointless again. I felt my grief which so rarely is the crushing tidal wave it was in the beginning. I can see it coming, feel it welling up within myself. I can almost prepare for it. I know the days will be hard and the nights harder. I know waking up will be the most painful part of my day while the rest of it is idle survival of making sure I eat meals and shower and go to work and convince people that I’ll be ok even though I feel I’m bleeding out through a wound in my chest.

I’ve made it up to this point and even though I’ve been drinking and smoking, I feel it’s worth noting that I HAVE survived. I have coped. I have found ways of being self-reliant. I HAVE NOT collapsed or shrugged off my responsibilities. I have fought through most of this year and I have fought hard.

I had a realization last week and I think that’s the main reason I have been feeling slightly less lost.

I have decided that, for the moment, I will wait. I will rest, just like the Earth.

I will rest between now and January. I will make it through Thanksgiving, my second one without mom. I will make it through my birthday, a day I wish wouldn’t come. I’ll make it through Christmas and New Years.

I won’t worry about if I get to the dojo or not. If I’m able to train or how hard I train when I do. I won’t stress over my work schedule making things hard with how inconsistent it is. I won’t give myself shit for not doing much because it’s cold and cloudy and hard to find the will to do all of the things I love doing while it’s warm and sunny out.

It’s winter. It’s a period for rest. Instead of raging and struggling against it I decided at 4 am on a cold Monday morning while smoking a cigarette and drinking my coffee before work that I would try embracing that aspect of this season. I would stop struggling to do and allow myself to rest.

Making that decision let me feel free. It dissolved the feelings of failure for not making it to the gym after work to run when I had already walked eight miles in the clinic. It freed me of so many negative things that I felt tears forming in my eyes from relief.

It was finally ok to wait, to rest, to simply breathe rather than fighting against everything that seems so impossible to overcome.

Sometimes the best course of action is to wait. To allow your opponent to make the first move, opening themselves up so you can land a devastating blow.

In January I start a new path.

I begin the road to becoming an RN, something I never in my life thought I would be. My first class is already paid for. Everything is set, all I have to do is attend the class. The first day of a new direction.

I have a rough sketch of an outline for where I want to go. First, it will be my Associates of Nursing, followed by the Physical Therapist Assistant degree. From there I will transfer to UCF for their Bachelors of Nursing moving into the Masters. From there it will be the Doctorate of Physical Therapy. Along the way or maybe after all of the “official schooling” will be the fitness training program I found while researching into the degrees I wanted. I would like to become a yoga instructor with counseling credentials as well, though I haven’t looked very far into that aspect of my plan.

I want to be a holistic nurse. I want to be a nursing teacher. I want to show people there’s more to health than just the physical body. The mind and spirit are just as important.

I will not stay with DaVita. I have already come to the realization that though I love my patients and my coworkers, I do not love my job nor the company. After achieving my first degree, my RN, I will begin exploring other employment options, ideal in the vein of holistic nursing. For the next two-ish years, however, I think I can manage three days a week at my present location. If things line up the way I hope they do I might be able to go down to working part-time and doing school full time.

Warren and I have fought. I told him he was an ass as a roommate. I told him I could rely on him to be unreliable. That in 13 months he’s paid full rent three times and none of those times were consecutive. I told him I didn’t want to live with him anymore and if he didn’t leave willingly I would find whatever legal course of action I could to have him removed, even if that meant having both of us evicted.

All of that came from after finding out he ignored my messages for three days.

I suppose backstory is needed…

Last Friday rent was coming due. It was also my payday and there for a “bill” day. I go through and pay things in order of their importance. Since rent is most important, I paid it first, which meant I had no money left to pay any of the others bills since Warren hadn’t made his contribution towards rent yet.

I messaged him to let him know rent was taken care of, but without his help, I was unable to pay any other bills such as power, internet, or any of my personal expenses.

I received silence.

For three days.


Nothing about, “Yes, I’ll pay rent. Just give me a few days.” No, “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Nothing to let me know that I would be able to pay all of my other responsibilities. Just empty nothingness.

On Monday I sent a message asking for Warren to pay rent so I could put gas in my car. I was low and without some sort of payment, I wouldn’t have had enough gas to make it through the week.

No reply.

Monday afternoon, when I got out of work, I sent a message asking if he was receiving my texts.


I went to Big Bad’s house. I spent the evening with him. One were I told him about the situation and how I was going to address it when I got home. It was a good evening and I feel my time with him is one of the reasons I’m remaining as ok as I am.

When I got home I still had no replies to my messages but there was a deposit to my bank account for partial rent. I was ok with that. I was able to pay the bills that were due. It was enough to stay afloat and buy groceries.

That evening, while I was meal prepping, Warren came into the kitchen. I asked if he had been receiving my messages. He did a “so-so” motion with his hand saying “Eh. The first message rubbed me the wrong way so I just didn’t reply.”

I don’t remember what I said, but he went on to explain to me something something something… I honestly can’t tell you anything about what he said because the only thing I heard was the tone of his voice.

I’m sure other people have experienced it. That “tone” where you’re talking to a four-year-old who’s being unreasonable and so you have to talk very slowly and punctuate every single word since it’s the fifth time you’ve had to explain yourself to them and you’re just so exasperated that they’re being difficult…

I am NOT a four year old and I do NOT deserve to be talked down to after covering $500 of someone else’s rent. I DO deserve an explanation as to when I can expect my payment and I WILL NOT stand for my messages to be ignored because another person wants to be childish.

Thus my bridge burning napalm response of, “Go fuck yourself. Get out.”

Warren: So that’s how it’s going to be.


He left, going back upstairs to his room, leaving me alone and furious. So furious I couldn’t even think beyond wanting to bash the windows of his car in with my combat swords from SCA.

I started receiving text messages from him. Messages I honestly didn’t read. I stated my feelings of “You’re an ass,” “I can’t rely on you,” and “If you’re not going to help I need you to leave so I can find someone who can.”

He knows where we stand now. He knows I’m ok with burning everything to the ground, including our relationship, if he doesn’t get his shit together because I’m done dealing with the stress having him in my life causes me.

This is my final stand. He made his payment for this week. I am waiting for December since that is when he gets his additional raise for his recent promotion. Words don’t matter anymore. Only action.

If he won’t take action then I will and I don’t care who goes down in the process. I don’t have to win, but I REFUSE to lose.

Big Bad and I are… doing well? I hesitate to write about this because even in my chest, sitting alone, I feel scared and vulnerable. Like it’s a frail, soft thing which could be injured at the slightest harshness. Something which hasn’t had time to become strong and confident. Like a fledgling.

The subject of children has come up. Twice, actually. Both times he asked me if I ever thought about having kids.

I answered with I’ve never had a partner that was loyal or one that I would want to have children with. I mentioned financial stability and being potentially polycystic and infertile. I mentioned how I never saw myself having the house with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids.

He seemed saddened by that. His response of “Awww” to my not having the picket fence seemed one of sorrow. Like he was sorry I felt that dream was out of my reach, or not meant for me.

I used to think about it, what my future would be like. I liked cooking dinner for my partners. I liked falling asleep next to them or watching shows with them. It’s one of the reasons I haven’t finished watching Burn Notice. I can’t bring myself to do it. There are things that I miss about living with a significant other. Things I figured I wouldn’t have in my life again.

There’s a part of me who is captivated by the idea of the 1950s housewife. I actually do want to do the laundry and dishes. I want to greet my love at the door with a kiss hello, or a sticky note attached to a nerf gun saying that the house is a war zone, loser has to take out the trash… you know, stupid, nerdy, romantic things. I want to have a kitchen table covered in puzzle pieces that we work on together, or at least talk to each other while I pick away at it.

There’s a part of me who wants it; the house with a white picket fence. That ideal life of perfection. There’s a part of me who wants kids and to pack their lunches and write love notes on their napkins. I want to help them with school projects and the science fair. I want to be there for their field trips. I want to help them grow their interests and find themselves. I want to be what my mom was to me for someone else.

I just never thought I would be able to experience it.

I mean… Big Bad has four daughters already. Why would he want more kids? And since I don’t want another partner, that means no kids for me by proxy, right?

I mentioned this to Kyle who’s response was, “He wants more kids. Why else would he ask you twice?”

My brain came up short on that one. Yeah, I thought it was odd that it seemed to come up often. But surely Big Bad didn’t want kids.

Kyle said to ask him.

So… I did…

We were texting each other good night and I asked if I could ask a personal question.

Big Bad said yes.

Me: Do you want more kids? I realized you’ve asked me that question but I never asked back.

Big Bad: Sometimes I do. They’re fun up to a certain age.

Since his oldest girls are teenagers I’m sure there is angst and tension at the moment.

Me: I think after a certain age they go back to being fun. It’s the middle years where they have to figure out themselves that sort of suck I think.

Of course, this is going solely on my own experience as a teenager and my relationship with my mom, so what do I know? But I do think things will ease over as his girls grow up and mature a bit.

Big Bad: Yeah. Maybe. Why? Are you ready to bear me the antichrist?

Me: I don’t know. I’ve never allowed myself to think of being a parent. I assumed you didn’t want more kids. I’m sorry for making assumptions rather than asking how you felt.

Big Bad: No need to apologize.

Me: Hypothetically, do you think I would be a good parent?

Big Bad: I think so. Certainly better than most.

Me: If I give birth to the antichrist for you I want 75% world domination for having to give up jiujitsu for 9 months. >.>

A girl has to have priorities…

Big Bad: Negative. I get 100% and you get to live in the post-apocalyptic future as my plaything.

Me: Do I get a slutty outfit?

Big Bad: Of course.

Me: And an army of penguins with lasers?

Big Bad: Several. Riding on sharks.

Me: … Then maybe…

So we haven’t agreed to have kids together or anything, but I do think our relationship has developed and deepened in ways I never thought it would. I don’t know how to explain the feeling, and I don’t know if it’s mutual or one-sided on my part because I haven’t voiced any of this to him.

It feels more committed. Nothing has changed, but in lew of the kid conversation, I feel like fidelity was reaffirmed on, and to, both sides. I feel like it’s another moment in time where we could have stood apart but instead, we stood together. We both admitted to things that we don’t share with others. We both allowed ourselves to be vulnerable. I’m not sure if we’re stronger for it, but I do think there is something positive about being vulnerable and realizing that it’s ok. You didn’t get hurt. In fact, you were safe the whole time. Not everyone is an asshole out to kick you while you’re down.

I spent Saturday evening and Sunday morning in Daytona with my younger brother. On the way back to Orlando I messaged Big Bad to let him know I made it back to town safely. I jokingly said I was about to pass his house.

Big Bad: Why don’t you stop by for a few. We’ll have coffee.

And so I spent nearly the entire day with Big Bad on Sunday. It was amazing. We started watching Stranger Things. Even though I just got done watching season two with Kyle I was completely content to curl up on the couch with Big Bad’s arms around me, the blanket covering us, and relax the day away.

It felt different than what it has been. For a little while, it had started to feel hollow. Even though we were together it didn’t feel like we were connected. It felt like it was just sex, which was still good, but I missed our times of wrestling, or working out, or cuddling, or our cups of coffee which seemed to have altered to me drinking by myself while he showered for work.

Recently, we had our date night to see Tho and all of our deep conversation and him saying he was proud of me. And then our Sunday afternoon of snuggles and shows. We still saw each other Monday evening which I am grateful for. Since I got out of work at 2 and he has taken this week off from work, I was able to go over to his house fairly early. We spent more time watching Stranger Things and talking.

I don’t know. It’s been feeling better and I do think the relationship is growing in ways that I didn’t expect it to. In ways, I hadn’t allowed myself to notice.

We both sleep well next to each other now. I remember in the beginning we didn’t. We were both worried about keeping the other awake by tossing and turning or snoring. But now, it’s different. I sleep deeper next to him. It’s like when I’m in my room alone I’m merely resting, while when I’m with him I actually sleep. I feel safe with him. Completely, physically and emotionally.

He said he knows he snores sometimes to which I replied yes, but that I liked it. It’s not loud or obnoxious. It’s just loud enough to be heard. Strong enough to be felt when my head is on his chest. I said it was reassuring. Comforting.

He said it seemed like I was having a bad dream last night and he woke me up. I don’t remember it. I remember feeling warm even though it’s winter and I normally always feel cold, no matter what I wear or how many blankets I have on my bed, or the fact that I live in Florida and most days still get into the 80s.

There’s a part of me, the soft, feminine part, that had given up on giggling, and being tickled, and goodbye kisses that make me smile. Of the warm fuzzy feelings that bubble up when you think of someone that spill into a silly uncontainable smile that makes you blush whenever someone points out that you’re smiling. Bastards. >.<;

And now, in the aftermath of basically two low key, relaxing days, I’m thinking that maybe it’s not all that impossible or crazy after all. Maybe all of this is ok and I should write off having a future with another person as “something not meant for me.”

I don’t think anything life changing will happen anytime soon. I want to become financially independent first. Or maybe stable would be a better word since I’m already independent and supporting two people, still. I’m sure being divorced and having four kids makes Big Bad hesitant to want to address the potential of living together or other batshit insane ideas like marriage.

Even just typing that on a blank page in a completely empty room makes my body tense with anxiety. So I know I definitely am not up to tackling those issues right now. I would much rather get out of the roommate situation I’m in first. I would like to make it through at least the RN associates. I want to feel like I am worthy as a partner and that I bring something to the table other than chaos because that’s what my life feels like right now. Chaos with brief moments of stability.

I think we’re both ok with not rushing things and I think maybe that’s why we’re as ok as we are. Regardless of what the future may or may not have in store for our relationship, I can say I am grateful he is in my life.

I like what we have. I feel he is honorable and I think I would actually be ok with eventually having his child.

There’s a lot on the horizon and not all of it in the distant future. Some of it is heavy and grief ladened. Some of it is good and potentially relieving. The main focus right now is breathing and surviving and resting.

For some reason it seems easier to that now; to survive. I’m looking forward to January. I’m actually kind of looking forward to the week of my birthday. Big Bad said he might take it off with me. I like the idea of us getting a pizza and watching stupid shows on my birthday. I like the idea of it not being special but of not being alone either.

I think there will be hard moments in the coming month but there will be good moments, too.