Grace – for us and them

I’m a bit hungover this morning, so we’ll have to start with that and give me a bit of forgiveness if I’m not at my best. I have important things to accomplish for work, but I need this out of my brain so I can concentrate.

I’m learning to give myself grace and by “grace”, I mean cut myself slack and acknowledge that I’m fallible, fragile, strong, and sometimes incredibly obtuse. Add in any number of other adjectives at any given moment, too. I try to grow and learn, but also have to accept that sometimes I will regress in order to heal a bit. Nothing about me is set in stone, even though the marks of the past linger in my mind and on my skin.

Likewise, I have to give grace to others. And sometimes it’s even easier to do that for others than it is for myself. I give grace to my mum for all the times she tried and things maybe didn’t go right. I give her grace for being a great mom and for the times when she wasn’t the greatest mom – because I see the same in myself and understand better how hard it is to be human, let alone care and nurture other humans.

I give X grace for being who he is and learning over the years. I give him grace for the love he had for me at one time and for the changes that made that love turn into something else.

I give my dad a bit of grace for trying, even though he was kind of a flop as a father. Maybe he will be reincarnated into another life to learn from the lessons of this one? I hope so. I think he has potential.

Actually, the truth is, I think we all have potential. Perhaps only the smallest fraction have none, but are so broken as to never make it to full humanity in this lifetime. Maybe 45 will have to live more than a hundred lives to make up for the mistakes he has made in this one. And that’s as close to political as I’ll get today.

One thing that can help in giving grace to both ourselves and others is letting go of ego. It’s a hard thing to do, so I’ll warn you ahead of time. It isn’t a perfect process and it’s hard to resist the temptation to feel that we are always, absolutely right. We are not. I can tell you that now and I’ll have to remind myself over and over again in the future.

We are not always right. All we can try to do is remember that kindness, compassion, and grace – giving and receiving it – are critical to moving through this world.

And now it’s time for my productivity to move outward into the world.

Moonfire

Childhood Traumas and Adult Health

Wow. I keep stumbling upon these articles and they are always so timely. Let’s start off with this: I have childhood traumas. They were big events that happened over the course of my childhood and teens and they did some damage, even when I did all I could to forget about them and push them away. No. I’m not pathological. Rushes of stressor hormones during those events caused physiological changes and impacted both my psychology and my physiology, with life-changing and permanent implications.

With the exception of two counselors who have seen and heard me and recognize what I’ve gone through, plus the loving comfort of one friend who knows about them, I have had to deal with these on my own. My sibling was drugged on phenobarbital during her young years to age 10 due to childhood epilepsy, so she (I think) doesn’t remember them. My mum… oh gosh… well, look she went through it too. She was the abuse victim and she was the young parent left holding things together for our small family.

X? Well, one of the biggest and most traumatic events happened when I was 7 and once my daughter was 7, it opened the floodgates of emotion. X couldn’t or wouldn’t help me through that time – his silence was deafening to me then. He later weaponized the knowledge about it against me during our split. He apologized, but some actions cannot be undone.

This isn’t written as a judgment for him or for my mum or even for my dad, who left and that action was the domino that started many of the events forming those traumas. This is instead an acknowledgment that I understand better how those events impacted me and how those I love have been unable to help me during the healing process and more specifically to protect the child I was.

Ultimately, I understand I have to do this work myself. I made a lot of headway in recent years, at least on the psychological implications. But dammit all to hell… the physiological impacts? The compromised immune system? The chronic pain and fatigue? Can those not just go away as I peel back these layers and understand and heal? What was done maybe cannot be undone. Compromised physical systems may be damaged and all I can do is make the best of it. I don’t know. Likely that will be my next phase of research and healing… how to get better physical health.

I no longer live in a permanent state of being caught by those events, from the mental perspective. I can talk about them without crying now. I can be proud of the little girl who survived them. Damn, she was so freaking brave and strong! I still have moments of realization or break-through, where I peel away another layer of the impacts. This week’s was the realization that the “people pleasing” behavior I have, much to my detriment over the years, was built during that childhood. It explains the underlying anger I had over the years… changing myself to fit other’s needs was not healthy and I am pretty certain I resented it, but didn’t know that was it.

It’s a weird thing, though, to see that now and wonder what it means for who I really am? I entered public service because it’s such a massive drive for me. Even my deep-seated need to be a parent goes back to my toddler years. Not that I don’t love being a parent. My kids are the truest loves I’ve ever had, even as they can drive me totally nuts sometimes – but isn’t that true for all deep emotional relationships??

So yeah. Who the hell am I really? If I strip away that people-pleasing side, what do I find hiding out? Am I some kind of crotchety old cat lady who just wants people to fuck off?? Nah. I don’t think so.

I’m an empath. I know that. I love my kids. I love my family. I’m analytical. I’m an introvert. I’m silly. I cry over commercials and I get embarrassed for fictional characters. I empathize too much, really. I suck at setting healthy boundaries, so I get frustrated and angry when others don’t back off before I’m worn out.

I don’t know how to say no in a good way. By that, I mean that I don’t know how to let people down for a soft landing and when I wear out too much, I get abrupt and impatient.

Oh fuck. I have no patience.

And since I’ve had these hormonal/emotional jags, I have no ability to concentrate or focus. I’m a mess. But my house isn’t. Ironic, isn’t it?

I think the reason I have no dreams or big goals is because I don’t really, really know who I am.

That’s a stunning thought. It totally stalled me out for a moment, as I sat here at the computer and just let that bounce around.

Here’s what I want: I want that people-pleasing, overwhelming part of my psyche to drain away like pus from an old wound. I want to irrigate that old wound – clean it out – and dry it off, so it can fully heal. And then I want to see what’s really there. I want to explore this older version of that amazing kid who ran through the woods in her jammies and got help. I want to be as brave as she was, only I want to be brave now. I want to find out who she would have really been and not because I’m seeking some re-do, but because I’d like to honor who she could have been but be more authentic about who she is now.

And I want to heal my body as much as possible. I want my adult health and my older-adult health to improve. I’d very much like a decent-functioning immune system and less pain, please. Some energy and perhaps the ability to sleep like a normal human would be good too. I seriously wonder if the leaching of the psychological “pus” will in turn release my immune system to bounce back?

We’ll see.

That’s it for me for today. Time to work and then “do the work”.

Moonfire

Menopause, Hormones or Depression?

I don’t even know where to begin to document this. I’m so tired and the weepiness is unreal. My mood had been tanking for a while. My inability to concentrate has deteriorated over the last several months until finally I lost it last week. I’m finding things with my work that I’ve forgotten to do. I can’t focus. I can’t get a grip on the simplest of things.

I feel like I’ve lost my mind.

Last week a thank-you email from a coworker sent me into a crying jag for 40 minutes. I just couldn’t stop. Talking to the EAP people had me crying. The sense of not being myself and not being able to do anything to help myself got overwhelming. Spicy came by while I was sitting outside trying to keep my call going (calls drop inside my home) and he gave me the biggest hug. I needed it so much and the touch really helped.

One emergency counseling session last week and a jaunt to the gynecologist’s office yesterday for exam and blood draw lead me to now suspect that this is hormonal. My weight has been ballooning, even though I’m eating less and more active. I’m emotional and drained and unable to sleep. I thought it was the stress of the COVID-19 situation, but in talking to the healthcare provider yesterday, I’m less certain.

Even with all this, I am still having a huge struggle. Today has been another crying day. I’m starving and thirsty and so tired that I can barely stay awake to write this and to handle some work. I had a good lunch and I’m drinking a bunch of water. My blood pressure was super high yesterday at my doc appointment – 166/100 – so I’m not crazy. My body is really not happy right now. Walking to the mailbox makes me feel like I’m an elderly person.

But it could be some depression. I’m a single parent with two kids during a pandemic. I’m working from home and trying to care for all of our needs while my body is doing some weird shit. It’s overwhelming.

It’s OVERWHELMING. It’s such a relief to write that.

It’s also hard because everyone is in the middle of this thing. Another friend is going through cancer and is in the midst of chemo treatment. Spicy and I lost our favorite chicken to a predator the night before last. Youngest has to do virtual schooling in the fall because we’re a hotspot here in our state and I can’t take a chance with his health when he’s so vulnerable. Oldest does well for a bit, then not so much. She’s on her own roller coaster of emotions and all I can do is be here to hug her, when she wants that.

I’m going to do the FMLA paperwork this week, so I can protect my job while I work through whatever the hell this is. I fucking love my job and the people I work with, so I’m not taking any chances.

In 45 minutes I have a Zoom meeting with my boss to go over things. If I could wish for just one thing it’s that I get through that call without crying.

I’ve talked with a lot of people this last while about giving ourselves some grace. Boundary setting has also been a big topic. The term “self care” has become loaded due to overuse in the media, but I really think I’m at the point where I’d better do it or the consequences could be rough. I write that and then my brain stalls. What does that even mean for me, really? It’s sure not hot baths and massage.

Yeah. No idea. I’m clenching my teeth, even as I try to ponder how to look after myself.

It’s like my brain is filled with gel and every thought takes a huge amount of effort to get through.

Please don’t let me stay like this.

Moonfire

Cloudy Day

It’s really appropriate that today is overcast and gray. I feel the weight of the hot weather pressing on me and now the sky looks like I feel. I went to bed early last night, but woke up with twitchy legs and the sense that I was fighting my own body. I got up, got a drink of water, and that’s when I noticed Spicy Ginger was outside. He was working in the quickly departing dusk, installing new sprinkler heads and digging up the yard. I poked my head out to check on him and holy hell it was still hot and heavy out. He was all sweaty and gave me some perky male attention before he told me why he was out there in the almost-dark…. trying to escape from the worst of the heat of the day to get this done so our grass wouldn’t die. Sadly, it was still crazy hot out there and so that part wasn’t a success. The install? That went well and I was a bit of company as he finished up the project.

Then, for the 3rd night in a row, he hunted down his sweet kitty and found her covered in burrs. We stood, together, in his kitchen and worked on de-burring her. She did her usual growling and attempted scratching and biting while we worked, but I think her heart wasn’t really in it. We got her cleaned up in record time, then I got my kiss and ambled across the drive to my place so I could return to bed.

I woke up feeling lighter this morning and held that line until late morning when the press of the world hit again. It’s turning into this stupid cycle and I really need to break it. I’ve removed the link for FB and I’m cutting down my news consumption. Time to take care of me. I’m not seeking out much of anything except a few updates on how people are doing. The rest can just stay in the background for now.

A lovely woman (the mom of the prior tenant here) brought me homemade jams yesterday. We connected after her son moved out of town and she came to pick up his mail. She reminds me so much of my mum, so I took to her instantly and it seems she has taken to me, as well. I had posted about my low mood on FB yesterday and lo, she showed up with some jams! It reinforces for me that there are some truly sweet and wonderful people in this world.

My mood is dropping off again this afternoon and I’m considering if it’s time to contact my counselor for a session. Even that feels like a huge effort and I know this is the lethargy of inaction that is creeping up on me. I want to tuck away into some private space and cry for a bit, but I have no privacy in our home, so I will have to get creative on how to find some. Spicy is going to help me hang a curtain at the end of my little “room” and I’m thinking that might be the trick. I know it’s a psychological trick and doesn’t really give me the true privacy of a bedroom, but I think it’ll be enough.

It’s worth the lack of privacy, though. My kids have rooms and we have a safe, beautiful place to live. I don’t feel sad about my lack of a true bedroom. Oldest will leave the nest some time in the next 6 months to year and it’s very likely she will just leave our state altogether so she can escape the horrid conservative GOP politics here. Being a transgender girl in a red state has got to be some kind of living hell for her.

When she leaves – which will be so very hard for me to not have her close – I will get that room for myself. So really? I’m not in a hurry.

Time to eat some healthy food, drink some water, and get my work done. Here’s to gray days and an abatement, no matter how small, of the oppressive heat.

Moonfire

Fibro Fatigue

I forgot to take my fibro medication yesterday. I paid for it by the time I hit bed and of course, that’s when I remembered to take what should have been a morning dose. So I took one at bed time and then took my regular meds this morning. I’m hopeful that the pain will die down, but setting myself back like that is costing me dearly. The brain fog… the dense fatigue… the aches from head to toe – they are all taking it out of me and I have to do kid taxi duty to get oldest to work.

I’ve got a team meeting in 20 minutes and my ability to function is all but reduced to ash.

It’s a reminder that small stumbles in how I care for myself can result in big negatives. I know that people can’t see it on the outside and that’s hard, as I’m sure I just look like an out of shape, overweight woman. I wish that were the case. I could overcome this and move on with my world.

Well, time to rally my mental forces and get things done. My morning is packed and I’m starting from below level ground, so I’d better hustle.

Moonfire

Monday Anxiety

Stupid Monday. I’ve been doing so well. I was really good over the weekend – productive, time with both kids and my Spicy Ginger. I felt good and didn’t give in to the blues that were rampant last week. But here I am again, looped into this cycle of anxiety and sadness… it come on from left field and I don’t understand why. I guess intellectually I understand that this time of uncertainty is wearing on me. Hell, it’s wearing on everyone.

I’m so tired of it.

I escape nicely on the weekends. Anytime I stay away from the news and social media, I seem to do fine. The minute I go back into the outer world? I feel the weight of it press back in on me.

I’m going to need to find some kind of outlet – soon – or I will lose myself into this up and down of my spirits. One of my big goals is to become a maker. I feel like I’m floating along and not really contributing much. I guess being “Mom” (with a Capital M) is technically important, but even that seems to be me running on empty these days.

I need some small thing that is my regrouping and change. Our garden is really doing well on its own, although Spicy had me out there Saturday evening weeding. He’s a tricky fellow and manages to get me doing a lot of things like that. Still, I wish that could be my life full time – working the garden, tending the chickens, building things and making things. Everything else feels so freaking empty and void.

I should be clear – both for myself and for any reader happening upon this blog – I love my job. Public service is my thing and working in grants is good work. I love my boss, my co-workers, my big-boss, my agency, and the field in which we are serving. Environmental work is truly good work in my estimation and my role may be administrative and financial, but I know I’m supporting something important.

I think it’s more of a matter of stripping away what life is really about and realizing that at the most basic, fundamental level, I need to be living life closer to nature and growing things (plants and animals, both). I know it’s a hard way to live in this modern world. Farming? Yeah, it is crushed under the heel of mass commercialization and monetization of everything in our lives. I live in a rental where I am lucky to have access to a community garden and the chickens. But that’s really it. The rent could easily get raised to a level where my financial world could come crashing down. I have no ownership in this property and the landlord could nix us having the chickens on a whim. Everything I’m able to do and have here is really at his whim, but I’m fortunate that Spicy Ginger is like family to him, so that’s a small blessing, and gives me hope that perhaps I’ll be safe here.

The point is that uncertainty rages in our world, even when there is no virus to worry about like this one. We are tied into a system that says every single thing we need as humans to survive (except maybe air) costs something. How fucking stupid is it that we do this to ourselves?

Augh. So I went down that mental rabbit hole yet again and need to pull out. I guess I’ll focus on getting more work done before I close up for the night. We’re going to have corn on the cob and I think I’ll pull some of the meat out of the freezer. We were given a small stash and I think I want to use some up in honor of that gift. A little pork loin sounds good. And maybe some steamed veggies. Healthy food and then maybe I’ll sit down with art materials and let some of this angst out in a creative way. Or I’ll curl up on my bed and get some rest because I never feel rested anymore. It’s that easy to deviate from the creative urge.

If I’m lucky I’ll get some cuddles with Spicy and maybe even my kids. My fat kitty is sitting on the table next to me while I write this and I kind of feel like that’s a little love that is going to keep me going, too.

Here’s to getting through another day and here’s to growing things and love.

Moonfire

Mental Health During COVID-19

I’ve been really limiting my time on FaceBook, which probably isn’t a bad thing even during the best of times. I can’t take all the highs and lows I am experiencing on there. It’s packed with misinformation, biases are promoted, and the bitterness against other humans is rampant. And that’s all just for the virus situation.

I still keep my toes in there for the BLM support and for my friends who are POC. I have to keep learning and listening and showing whatever support I can.

The partisan divide is getting to me, though. Hell, the whole system is getting to me. And I am sick to death of Ammon Bundy and his ilk. I wish they would just fall off the planet or go live on some isolated island where they can do their stuff and just leave peaceful folks alone.

I have a 13 year old that I’m worried about. It’s not hyper worry. It’s just the general, low-key worry that he needs more in his world than our home. He needs some outdoor time and yet I don’t want to venture far from here, as a vehicle breakdown or medical emergency would add to a system that is taxed with new COVID cases and a bunch of folks who are being ignorant.

It doesn’t help that we’re hitting temps in the upper 90s/low 100s, so going outside is kind of miserable. Even our chickens are hiding under a tree, in the shade, rolling in the dust and trying to stay cool. I feel for them in their black glossy feathers. I’ll put out more fresh water for them this evening and give them meal worms as an apology for the heat.

I am crazy happy here in this place where we live and yet the world at large makes me want to never leave our place. It’s like an oasis in the midst of all the unhappy things happening. Our state and county are now hot spots in the nation. Every good thing we did in March and April got undone by people being stupid since things our state started reopening. Low income folks are being hit the hardest and it makes me angry to watch all levels of political leadership pander to the election when bigger things are happening in this country.

I’ve no doubt the US response to the virus will be a case study in what not to do for a pandemic when this period of time is studied in the future. That’s cold comfort to those of us who are living through it now, though. Even people I might otherwise have thought reasonable are doing stupid things during the pandemic. It’s like a willful arrogance is leading them to make poor choices.

Then again, I’ve made some stupid financial choices in the last 6 months… so clearly, it’s easy to do. At least my choices cause no harm to others around me. I count that as something in my plus column. Still, I know how easy it is to head down a bad path, whether it’s because of arrogance or just plain old frustration with the situation you’re dealing with.

My solution to fix my situation is to just duck down and work hard to pay off my frivolous debts. It’s easy.

But what about those folks who are being stupid and could take down someone else’s health with their actions? This virus isn’t picky or targeted. It’s nicely dispassionate about hitting both the good and the bad people. There won’t be any pseudo-justice for those who make poor decisions. The rest of us just get to live with whatever the outcomes are.

So that’s why I’m a bit down today. I’ll get to the end of the work day and putter here at the house, then visit with Spicy Ginger before I perform my mom-taxi duty for oldest. I really wish she had her license and could drive. Life would be partially easier for me with that change. I need a kiss from Spicy. I need his warm lips on mine, a comfort that nothing else matches. I need some laughter with him and hopefully skin touches.

I will cross fingers that I find a way to bring some lightness to our days for my youngest. I will cross finger that oldest holds it together when I know the fatigue is getting to her. I will cross my fingers that this blue mood will lift, even if just for a few days, and that my ability to concentrate will return.

Back to work.

Moonfire

What is this? Happiness?

I knew I would love living here. I imagined it, the way you do when you project forward and plan for a new start. The chickens figured prominently in my humorous thoughts, as did the complexities of living with three people in a two-bedroom place. I also knew that I’d love living across the drive from Spicy Ginger – that we’d find our groove, but still respect giving each other needed space. As with any projection, it’s tinted by best-case hopes, right?

Reality is richer and more complex than expected, but also so much better than I could have imagined. I love our home here. I love the way we are nestling in, even if it’s taking us a really long time to unpack (leading to much teasing by Spicy Ginger). The large trees shade our walk-way and the front of our place during the heat of the day, so we can sit outside. Our dining table fits in the kitchen/dining space perfectly. My kids have their rooms and they are comfy in them, although youngest needs to put his stuff away! I found a carved wooden screen to split my “living room” from my bed space and I found an old twin bed frame in wood to swap out for the too-large queen.

The grass is green and maintained by a crew who come in to cut it. We tenants, including Spicy Ginger, my household, and my wall-neighbor, are working together on a communal garden. I can keep up on cleaning because the space isn’t overwhelming. I have a “family room” in the garage, so the kids can hang out with friends plus it’s 420 friendly so my main space is kept free of obnoxiousness. I was given a free leather sofa that is deep and wide and comfy. My Spicy Ginger made my kitties a cat tree and they are thrilled.

Spicy and I are in a groove of our own that involves visits and love and support for each other, while still maintaining our independence. He is sunshine and fresh garden dirt and blue skies and green growing things… he is humor and sexiness and heart wrapped in a lovely human shape. We are so very different on the surface, then I discover as we go along how similar we are, too. We both have deep hearts and are practical on the surface. We both get hurt and cave up when it happens. We both care about those around us and acts of service are our love language, both giving and receiving.

Home is joy to us. Friends are family. Our fur babies are our children and we are both concerned with our kids being decent humans.

I believe in the inherent good in people. He believes people are dicks until they prove otherwise. I might be a little bit of a Pollyanna about some things and he might be a little bit of a Dennis the Menace about things. Or maybe he’s Calvin, from Calvin & Hobbes.

Or he’s both Calvin AND Hobbes, in one delightful package.

All I know for sure is that I love him. I love being here. I’m so grateful that life presented this opportunity to live in a space that gives me joy. Is it possible to have NRE about a living space? And on the subject of NRE.. when does it end? Am I still caught up in it with him? He still gives me butterflies.

Moonfire

Fatigue and No Concentration

Beginning tomorrow I will have 4 days off. I plan to use them to continue the unpacking process, go bike riding, teach youngest to ride his bike, cook, and perhaps be social. I won’t be moving. I won’t be helping anyone move. I won’t be working and I will not think about work until Monday rolls around. I need this break in the biggest possible way.

I’m truly, deeply exhausted. I haven’t cooked a meal for us since we’ve been here (now over 2 weeks) because we’ve just been limping along, find things as we need them, and once in a while having time to quickly sort and put away a few things. I really needed several days off after we finished moving our things over here and closing down our old place, but I had to work and a friend needed help with her move.

I know that sounds simplistic, because what about all the rest of the hours in each day, right? Living with fibro and the pain/fatigue combo means I do what I can, when I can. There is no more staying up late to work on things. If I over-do it, I will pay for 2-3 days before I can try again. Too little water… too little sleep… too much physical activity? I will pay and be debilitated. I periodically get cocky and think that I’m beating it, then I go through an extended period that tests my limits. I learn quickly that I have to back off. When you’re in a period of moving, like we just came through, backing off isn’t always an option.

A side-effect of the fatigue is the lack of concentration I’m going through this week. Actually, it has been present for the last two months and it’s greatly impacting my job. Working from home isn’t helping as first I was acutely aware of all that needed to be do for the move, now I’m acutely aware of all that needs to be done to finish up our move and then normal life (whatever the hell that means) can resume.

I’m looking at my work email and I know that it’s loaded with things I need to do. After I let all this angst out, I plan to create a fresh to-do list and just chug away at it until the end of the day. I won’t think of it all in terms of panic, but will gather my fuzzy wits and get things done. The kids will need to fend for themselves. I will need to stop being distracted. Work will get done.

Tonight I will give myself the reward of going to bed and sleeping in tomorrow.

I just have to get through today.

In the meantime, Spicy Ginger has gone so far above and beyond that I feel like I should never ask for help again. I will say it again and again… I could not have gotten through this without his incredible help and support. But now it’s time for me to get my shit together and stand on my own two feet. My time with him needs to be joyous and free.

Now I have to make a big admission. I am a plant addict. I love them. I want them all around me. I crave their quiet green loveliness. I have a problem.

Back to work and the crafting of the to-do list, the eating of the good foods, and the grace and patience to focus on what must be done so I can enjoy my days off in peace.

Blessings and love to this screwed up world,
Moonfire