You’re oh so worried about the problems in your life

(Don’t You Worry – Heaven’s Sake Kids)

Sometimes my computer randomly starts having a mind of its own. And usually that drives me crazy…and is also one of the reasons I no longer have my email open all day and why I usually log out of things even on my own personal laptop…but sometimes my computer seems to know what I need to see on youtube.

So yeah, on Wednesday I was listening to something on youtube when suddenly this woman started talking, and I figured it was an ad so I waited a little bit since I know 99% of the time if youtube will let you skip the ad you are going to have to get part way through before that is an option…so I waited. And then when I was about to skip the ad I realized one, this is not an ad, and two I kind of want to know what this woman is about to say.

As it turns out, this was a video of a woman whose dad died when she was 24. She talked in the video about how hard it was, but then acknowledged that she thought it was hard then, but she felt like it didn’t really hit her until like 7 years later. She thought she had fallen apart at the time, but it wasn’t until those 7 years later that she feels like she really fell apart, because when trauma occurs you mostly feel numb. Like yes, it hurts, but it is different. The bigger problem early on is that you aren’t really experiencing the world, so it isn’t until later when the numbness finally fades that you can really understand what was lost. She ended by talking about how people talk about how you need to be strong but what she thinks helps more in healing is to be weak and give other hurting people permission to be weak. That perspective was hard because the idea it can get harder than this isn’t exactly my idea of a good time…and she is right that be weak is the opposite of what most people say, and something even harder for me because I learned in college that letting anyone see weakness was an invitation to be hurt and like it says in one of the books I listened to a long time ago, fear learning is particularly indelible while safety learning is very difficult and against our evolutionary instincts. So yeah, that gave me a lot to think about…

And it also led youtube to start suggesting Columbine videos to me, which I obliged in watching. The particular videos I was watching were interviews with people impacted like 20 years later. It was an oddly healing experience. At 20 years later, nearly every person interviewed had some sort of guilt about their actions – they pretty much all felt like it was in part their fault. Only one interviewed person really could have even maybe changed anything – yet they all harbor this guilt that somehow they did something wrong. That helped me parallel my experience and come closer from head to heart that what happened to my dad isn’t my fault. Like I’m not there yet, but I’m closer and that counts. The other big thing I noticed was that they pretty much all at some point (TWENTY YEARS LATER) were still holding back tears. That really normalized where I am less than a year later. Realistic expectations.

It isn’t like life today is the same as it was at the end of August. I am doing a lot better than I was then. I can be awake and alone but not crying. Gradually I make closer approximations to normal life…but I’d be lying if I claimed that everything was as good as it seems in front of people. There are definitely times that I can recognize that I am in crisis…and I know in good moments that there are people who have said they want to help in the bad moments…but there are a few problems with that. First, if I am in crisis I am very likely to be unable to use my words so calling or texting is kind of a problem. Sure, there are apps like circle of 6 that will send a text with just the push of a button to a pre-selected group of people that just says something to the effect of I need help and sends my location…but even that is more communication than I might be able to handle, and even if I could do that leads to the second issue – at this point 97% of the time I am hanging on all day and I might be crashing in the evening but it isn’t until later into the night that I’m really in crisis…and pretty sure no one wants a text in the middle of the night even if I could send it. Yes, I *could* (and probably should) learn to reach out before it gets to that point, but like that is really hard. First, like previously mentioned, admitting vulnerability is really hard. Second, not seeking help makes it easier to pretend everything is fine. Third, where do you draw the line between this is where I am doing great on my own and this is where I need help to not crash…obvi you don’t want the line so high that you need help like every other day, but if it is too low then by the time you realize you’ve reached that point it is already too late…

Totally changing gears, but sometimes the strangest things become what I spend way too much time thinking about while I’m walking places…so I was thinking about my character and how I really value honesty…but how I also started lying on forms. It was easy at first filling out health histories – they tend to phrase the question as have you ever been *diagnosed* with _______. All the nopes. No diagnoses. Sure, once you wash you hands until they are bloody, shower in the middle of the night while shrinking a load of laundry in a hot water wash and 24 hours in the dryer, avoid eating or drinking at school for a week you can’t deny anymore that probably you have OCD, but it is easy (and honest) to check the box no, you don’t have any diagnoses, and that avoids any conversations which is really the life goal when you also struggle with social communication. Then the end of summer after third year came. I wasn’t like a totally outgoing person or anything, but socially I had learned to communicate well enough that people meeting me for the first time didn’t need to know I ever was basically a non-talker who communicated primarily in writing…and really the OCD was completely gone (hashtag recovery is possible)…but someone who had known me for all of about 5 minutes diagnosed me on the basis of the title of my blog. Never mind that the whole premise of my blog title was a rebellion against labels. Never mind that I didn’t meet criteria at that point for anything he was diagnosing. I didn’t want to be rude or argumentative and get myself in trouble, but I wondered whether he would have diagnosed diabetes or hypertension without actually obtaining any actual information about me except the title of my blog if I’d had those in my title instead. So I continued marking the no box whenever relevant and justifying it to myself as that those diagnoses weren’t really valid because they were not based on actual assessment of ME. I am more than the title of my blog…and I’ve considered re-branding myself because I feel like I’ve outgrown that outburst of rebellion against labels, but I don’t really want to start over so I’m probably never going to actually do that…but then it comes to employment forms that want you to claim whether you have OR have EVER had certain conditions. OCD is usually on the list as is PTSD. Sometimes social anxiety appears on the list. I can’t honestly claim that I have never had OCD so I usually mark the prefer not to disclose box. That’s what I did last year for everything. There is one particular program I did that for and did not get an interview. This year I thought maybe I could give myself a better chance by marking no…so I did. And I got an interview. And I can’t confirm that saying no this time is really what made the difference. And I’m sure legally even if that were the reason, they would never admit it…but it felt like it gave me a better chance…and somehow I justified it to myself even though it also feels really wrong. I mean it is not like I have ever considered myself disabled, and it is not like I ever had a valid diagnosis…and I certainly have no need for accommodations for previously having had anxiety and to be honest, I don’t think accommodations would have been good for me when I was struggling – I would have loved it, but it would have been enabling and likely just made it easier to not to move past it. So yeah, I hate myself for lying, and I hate that I get put in situations where the truth doesn’t feel safe. If I don’t get the position I might feel differently, but for now I am of the opinion that as much as I hate not telling the truth that maybe this isn’t so much of a lie as a form of self-preservation and stretching the truth…but at the same time I don’t want to be a liar…so yeah…that is what I am wrestling with.

Going back to my dad…my mom surprised me today. I’ve struggled because on paper my dad died on Monday August 19th a bit after 2am. To be declared dead you have to be checked for signs of life by a nurse and two doctors before it is official. He took his last breath and his heart beat for the last time prior to 2am…but you’re relying on mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted people to remember that the next step is to call a nurse…and it takes time for that nurse to arrive…and it takes time for the nurse to call the doctors and the doctors to arrive…which is why I tend to give the more vague about 2am comment than the exact time…but I mean, he really died in the accident on August 9th. But he wasn’t really dead because his heart was still beating and he was still breathing. But his brain was pretty darn close to dead. And my mom was consistent that he was very much alive until that moment on August 19th. Well, today I called her because I can’t call my dad and I thought maybe since I was talking about food she would be worth a try…and that part of the conversation didn’t really go how I wanted it to, but eventually we were talking about other things and I was trying really hard not to cause conflict…and she said she really lost dad when the accident happened. True that. I don’t know what made her change her stance, but I’ll take that small victory. It still obvi doesn’t fix that I still don’t know how to talk about it. He didn’t technically die *in* the accident and it feels like he died from removing the ventilator support rather than dying from the accident…and yet the accident is what initiated the process…so I still feel lost in translation…but it feels good that we are on the same page that he wasn’t really ever with us past the time of the accident.

Left your father’s side

(You stepped in – The Journey Collective)

Lately I have loved this song…even though it is a Christmas song and Christmas is long since past…

Musically I love it…the lyrics are great too because they are full of hope yet offer an out for when I’m not ready to believe that God really is going to step in. I feel like I am still waiting for God to step in and help me. There are so many people in real life who have taken a minute to step in over the years but a lot of the time it has felt like God sat back and watched it happen. And it is frustrating.

I said yes to another infant. I feel like I keep saying yes and keep not getting a child placed with me and it is frustrating because my heart aches to love on a child. Today I started setting up for a placement…and it has been over 24 hours since I said yes and I haven’t heard no yet, so maybe this time I really will have a placement with me…but I also haven’t heard yes yet and the child needs somewhere to stay starting Friday so that might also mean the answer is no and I just haven’t been told yet. But anyway…I discovered that my favorite baby blanket doesn’t match any of my other blankets…and so now I am trying to figure out if I put that one away and pull out more pink blankets or if I just embrace the lack of matching…it’s not like any of them match the room itself anyway…mostly it is just envy of the room someone showed on youtube that they use when they host and every single thing in the room matched so beautifully…I really don’t have the space in my apartment to be able to have an inviting space for a kid that both matches everything AND is comfortable for me when I don’t have a kid…so unless I get a different apartment with more space (which isn’t likely to happen) this is the best it is going to be…

A few weeks ago on the radio I heard this advertisement like a million times…and I have no idea what you were supposed to want to buy, so clearly the advertisement wasn’t doing its job…but the premise was that you might as well plant a lot of carrots because it doesn’t take any longer to plant lots than just one, but you will reap many more carrots if you plant a lot…and every time I heard it I was like this makes zero sense. Even if you plan on planting by throwing the seeds out in a fist-ful, it absolutely does take more time and effort the more you plant if you want any chance of actually having anything grow…you have to water more area if you plant more and you have to weed more area if you plant more…and it is going to take longer to pick the carrots if you grow more carrots…and maybe that is why I don’t know what was being advertised – I was too busy contemplating the time and effort required to plant more carrots.

And if you haven’t already figured it out, by the time I actually started writing I had pretty much forgotten what I planned to write about…but that hasn’t stopped me from putting words on the page.

The past few days I have been learning that you can’t live your life waiting for the next thing…I had two days off and haven’t really gotten much done because I kept thinking in just a few minutes this other thing is going to happen so I don’t want to get too involved in anything…and then I’d realize whatever I was waiting for wasn’t actually going to happen…but something else might…and repeat…

Today I answered my phone for the first time in a long time…and it was another person wanting some money from the idiot who keeps giving my phone number out.

But I didn’t go to bible study or the pool last night and I didn’t go to spin class today and yeah, I haven’t really done much of anything…and part of it is because I’ve been in bed for like 12 or so hours every night because I am always tired, but a lot of it is because I am just not doing anything. Today when I went to the basement to check if I actually locked my storage unit, I was talking to one of my neighbors about how we feel better when we’re doing things but we don’t usually actually do things…you’d think that would be an impetus to actually do something…you’d be wrong.

I want to know when life gets easier. I still cry more days than I don’t and even when I’m not crying I am often still really hurting and I want it to get easier. I used to talk to my dad almost every day via text/email/sometimes phone. And now I can’t. And that is hard because basically every day there is something I want to share with my daddy.

In a couple weeks will be match day. I really really want this year to be the year it changes and I match. But I am afraid it won’t. I feel stuck. I made some peanut butter jelly sandwiches yesterday in case I need easy meals at that point…but TBH I haven’t really gotten back to food prep since my dad died so I am not totally sure there will actually still be sandwiches ready by match day. But I did make rice and only burn it a little bit, so I do have some food ready to eat before then. And I still have some pediasure somewhere…just not quite sure where I put it…

I am very glad the travel for interviews is over. Travel is always hard for me, but doing it without my daddy felt nearly impossible. He helped me with my plans and I talked to him a lot while I was travelling and…this year I had to do it alone. My mom called a few times but it isn’t the same.

So yeah, I was a mess during the couple weeks I was travelling. And now my wrist hurts because I drove way too much…so maybe it is a good thing I didn’t go to the pool or spin class…

Lol, I should have a reward if anyone actually makes it to the end of this totally pointless post…also, both of my legs just fell asleep

We’re falling in

(Is forever enough – Hawk Nelson)

 

Can I be happily even after?

 

The words swirl. The world spins around me. I can’t end it, but I can’t keep up. I want out.

 

Life becomes a series of contradictions.

 

You are living in a pool. You are in the shallow end, but you are wearing a life jacket anyway. You’re having fun. You feel safe. Sometimes you get splashed, but you wipe away the water and you’re fine. Maybe the water stings or you stay in a little too long and get sun-burnt, but the ache goes away and you just keep swimming.

 

Then someone takes away your life vest and throws you into the deep end. It’s scary and not what you expected. You’re kind of okay but you know you will get tired eventually if you don’t get to the side. But with every stroke you take you realize how far from the edge you are. You thought you were a strong swimmer, but you’ve never gone this distance before. You are losing yourself as you realize how not strong you are. You finally feel like maybe you are figuring this out, making a little progress, realizing a little at a time will get you there when suddenly someone ties heavy weights to your ankles. Down you go.

 

The only way to get the air your body craves is to throw the water out of the pool as hurriedly as you can because there is no way you can get your feet off the bottom. So you do it every day. But every time you get a breath the water starts refilling the pool. At first people came, but they didn’t understand why you were focused on getting the water out instead of getting to the edge. It didn’t make sense because they’d never had the weights on their ankles and sure they’d been without the life jacket sometimes, but never in the deep end. And so they figured you were happy where you were.

 

You eventually figure out ways to get the water out faster. You’ve almost forgotten life before. This feels good – at least in comparison to where you started this struggle.

 

But your body eventually tires. Throwing water out of the pool every day is exhausting and you reach the point of failure. As the water floods around you keeping you from breathing the air you wonder if there is something wrong with you. Why can’t you just figure this out? You want to let go and give up, but you remember how long and hard you’ve fought to breathe and how wasteful it would be to throw that away. So you’re stuck. You can’t get enough air, but you can’t stop trying. Drowning would be so much easier but at the same time you can’t drown. You know down is not the way even though it is so impossible to go up…

 

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I watched (okay, that’s not true, I listened to) a video called “happily even after” today. It was about someone who her husband died and she was devastated but then eventually she met another soul mate and was able to live happily even after. Kind of it was good…but the possibility of being happy again feels so distant. Her reality is not yet my reality. But here is the problem with perspective. The video goes from death to joy in less than 20 minutes…it isn’t a realistic perspective. In real life that transformation took many years. In a quick fix culture we want to pop open the bottle of Tylenol and solve the problem, but some problems can’t be solved like that. Time does not heal all wounds. Some wounds are a lot harder to close. Another problem with our culture is that we mind our own business and don’t talk to strangers. The past few weeks I reached that point of failure where it seemed like I couldn’t keep up with keeping my head above water anymore. I was back to daily tears and exhaustion and deep pain. It obvi wasn’t a proud moment in this fake it until you make it life, but I definitely was crying on the airplanes…and not a single person said a thing to me about it. Which I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily like to talk to a stranger, because hashtag social anxiety, and I definitely didn’t want anyone to touch me because airports and airplanes rank very high on the potential for germs, but it is very isolating to be crying alone. It kind of accentuated the loss. Travel is a time I talked to my dad a lot – and he wasn’t there to hear about everything. He wasn’t there to help pick out my clothes and make my travel plans. I was alone.

 

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I was about ready to be like there is a problem and I need help when instead I googled a bunch of random search words that eventually led me to a page of someone talking about how she thought the needed help because at three months of grief it seemed like everyone expected that she had already moved on and was back to normal, but she totally wasn’t, so she went to a counselor who was like girl I’ve been grieving for three years and still feel how you’re describing – you’re normal; it’s okay to still really hurt.

 

It was so good to realize that it is okay to still be fighting through each day. Like someone said a few weeks ago which seemed weird at the time because to everyone else this was forever ago, this was recent, it just happened. But she’s right, six months is not that long.

 

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I’ve been exhausted. I couldn’t figure out why. Like sure, I ‘ve had a lot of work until 11pm, get up at 4am nights, but even when it seems like I’ve had enough time to catch up I still feel so tired…and I had a CBC that showed I am not anemic so that isn’t currently behind the exhaustion. And I don’t think I am getting sick because I usually have an OCD-like pre-getting sick reaction. It is kind of like PANDAS/PANS (pediatric autoimmune neuropsychiatric disorder associated with strep/pediatric acute-onset neuropsychiatric syndrome). Those are disorders in kids where even sub-clinical strep infections cause severe OCD-like behaviors until the infection if resolved at which point the kid goes back to being a totally normal kid again. I don’t remember having these reactions as a kid, but I know that as an adult if suddenly germs are way more scary than usual there is a pretty good chance that within a few days I will have a cold. It isn’t a one-to-one association – sometimes the germ issues come alone because that is the (hashtag sarcasm) fun of anxiety, but I can’t remember the last time I got a cold that wasn’t preceded by a germ-issue attack that started a couple days in advance then ended right around the same time as the cold…so yeah, all that to say I doubt I am getting sick…so the exhaustion was confusing and frustrating…and then I figured it out – grief. It’s a lot of emotional energy. Besides that I still see way more hours go by on the clock than I would like to, the grief itself is sapping my energy. I sleep most of the day and still get up wanting to go back to bed.

 

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That same google search also led me to an article that between 3 and 6 months and sometimes even sooner, grief changes…but it changes a lot more on the outside than on the inside. At that time it goes into hiding. As the griever begins to be able to control the grief reaction and not cry in public anymore people start to assume that means things are “normal” again and to keep from toppling over those expectations the griever works even harder to make that true. On the inside it still hurts just as bad as it did before, but on the outside it is even less likely anything but I’m fine is going to come through. If people ask questions there are excuses because instinctively we know the right answer isn’t anything related to our grief. And so we go on living a double life. Happy on the outside while fighting for air on the inside…

 

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And since I had today off without an interview and there are already clean(ish) sheets on my bed I had like three small projects to get done today…and I haven’t started even one of them…unless you count tripping over one of the boxes on the floor on the way to the bathroom this morning as starting to consolidate and throw away the empty boxes…so now my revised goal is to get just one thing done: bring all the empty boxes to the trash…putting away all the things that came out of those boxes I guess can wait.

 

One thing I am definitely learning is to set lower goals…I had three goals last Sunday. I modified to one single goal: get sheets on my bed instead of sleeping on the couch again. I got home from work and had four hours until bedtime and just after bedtime that one goal was accomplished…and that is okay. I tried, and it might not have been everything I originally planned, but I got something done, and that has to count for something.

 

And now I am going to get my one thing for today done, so I’m going to have to stop writing…

 

Except one more thing…I saw this morning someone boasting about being an anti-vaxxer. I knew better than to get involved…so I didn’t even though what she was claiming was scientifically 100% false and very dangerous…but it made me (rightfully) angry…we might not have a vaccine for Covid-19 (the new coronavirus people are freaking out about), but we do have vaccines for things like influenza, measles, pertussis…etc…if you don’t wanna die from a respiratory disorder, protect you and your kids from the ones we know how to protect ourselves from.

Don’t like “big pharma” (whatever that means…)? Well then I guess you also don’t want acetaminophen or ibuprofen for your pain and fever, because guess who makes those? Big pharma!! I guess you also don’t want antibiotics or antivirals for your infections – yep, more big pharma. And don’t worry, we won’t give you any fluids for your dehydration, any epinephrine for your allergic reaction, or any amiodarone to help control the electrical activity keeping your heart from beating correctly, because we know how you don’t like big pharma. And no inhalers for your asthma, no blood pressure meds for your eclampsia, no anticoagulants for the clots in your lungs or brain.

K. Stepping off my soap box.