{I originally wrote this at the beginning of September, but, you know, things happen. I’m publishing this now, out of chronological sequence for events in my life. So, you know; the timeline is off, but whatever. Most of me is “off” anyway, so it may be more authentic this way, anyway.}
Alrighty, friends; I’m about to disclose everything I know about parenting, friendship, and being a real, live community, aimed at caring well for each other. ...
It’s been a grueling ride lately, through some rough territory. Dry deserts by day. Lonely plains at night. Scaling steep mountains. Standing at the edges of the world on a precipice or two, trying to catch my breath at the heights where the air is thinner than I like. Slogging through the valleys where the air is thick and soggy and hard to pull into my lungs. Sometimes the ride is like this, though. Breathless. Relentless. Even as the scenery changes around me, and summer turns to fall, and there’s a chill on my skin urging me to wrap up tight. This is what it is right now to navigate my wonky brain and try to move forward at the same time. ...
Here’s how it’s going ‘round about now:
Not well.
Also, fine.
I thought I’d update you while still in the throes of this delightful mental illness episode, because a) I’M STILL ALIVE which means, b) I’M WINNING, GODDAMMIT, and c) I’ve utterly abandoned the idea that I need only reveal the pretty parts of life or write only after I have an inspiring, Oprah Winfrey Book Club story of tragedy-turned-triumph to share. I mean, I’m not opposed to triumphing. Triumphing’s rad. It’s awesome. It’s the best. But right now, I’m slogging, and slogging is the biggest part of triumphing, so slogging is what we’re discussing today. ...
You know how people who are super Woo Woo are all, “Manifest what you want to see in the world, and it will come to you?” And then it’s annoying because often they’re right and you’re all, “DAMMIT. I SHOULD’VE MANIFESTED MORE?” Well, let this be a cautionary tale.
BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU MANIFEST, friends.
I, for example, forgot to be manifesting millions of dollars. ...
I wrote Monday about hitting the Depression Wall again. About what it’s like when I don’t see it coming. About how I’ve learned to cope. About steps I take. About the reality that I don’t ask my people — my closest friends and family — for help. And about texting the 24/7 Crisis Text Hotline (741741), along with screenshots so you, too, can see what it’s like to contact a crisis assistance network, what happens, and demystify the process. ...
{CW: Depression, Mental Illness, Suicide Ideation}
I want to write about my kid’s engagement party, how to throw one that’s pretty and cheap, and how to show up for each other and celebrate well. The post is drafted. Finished but for a final read. But it’s going to have to wait, because I’m writing this instead.
I want to write about the dog we found… inside our car… because that’s a normal place to find a dog you’ve never met before. I have pics and a story about being lost and found, and starting over and redemption, and somehow finding our way home. But I’m writing this instead. ...
Sometimes, I feel pretty good about Me. I suspect it’s a result of getting older and giving fewer shits. Like, take me or leave me, you know? I know who I am. I know where I fall short. I’m doing my best except when I’m doing my mediocre, which, let’s be honest, is way more often, but I’ve also realized that doing my best on Every Single Thing is unrealistic and, frankly, unhealthy. Do I REALLY want to do my best while grocery shopping? Or do I just want to run in, grab eggs and milk and off-brand bread, and call it a day so I can save my “best” energy for more important things, like handling the 47th question from my children about the Exact Same Thing and still choosing not to run screaming into the night? “I STILL DO NOT KNOW WHAT’S FOR DINNER, CHILDREN. I THINK I’VE MADE IT CLEAR HOW TO FIND THE CEREAL, THOUGH, SO — GREAT NEWS — NO STARVING FOR YOU TODAY.” ...
