depression

000: An Era of Hope

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Daily writing prompt
What cities do you want to visit?
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Across space and time, near and far, fictional worlds and battlefield scars.
The quiet places no one knows. The bleeding hearts and the broken homes.

I want to see the grief, the pain, the broken bone. Shattered buildings and crumbling roads.
Show me the shelters that were heaven within hell. The tears that flowed like invisible blood, unknown.

“That’s morbid.” “That’s fake.” “What’s the cost of compassion these days?”
And to you I say nothing, because my words aren’t for you.

They’re for the ones still struggling.
I know there’s more than a few.

I stand to say, I’m here.
I’m with you.
You’re not crazy, or insane.
Your reality isn’t fake.

I hear you.
Your screams into the void.
You’re late-night cries.
The fear of the monsters lurking within your head.

Show me every inch you had to survive.
Tell me how it cut you and bled you dry like wine.

Tell me your story, every suffering word.
I will stand silent guard, watching as you burn.

And in the ashes, as my soul shatters under the weight of your life,
I’ll gather you in my arms, and hug through the night.

You’re perfect. You’re pure. It was never your fault.
I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m sorry you ever felt so small.

I’m here. I know I’m late.
I never knew how much you hurt.
I know how much easier it would be to hate.

I’m proud of you.
There is no higher truth.
Surviving is brutal.
None of this is easy to do.

And yet, you’re here. Still breathing.
Still going. Somehow holding.

You’re fighting the fight. You’re saying this isn’t right.
You sincerely give a fuck, refusing to unsee the plight.

So burn to ash, my darling, baby phoenix. Rest your weary soul.
I’ve got this watch. And when the morning comes…
know you’ll burn like a star, becoming someone’s sun.

Your life matters more than you know.
There’s only one you. No one else has your glow.

Show me the cities hidden in your skin, the Romes no one knows.
The trauma and grief. Each and every shattered window.

Lay out all your pieces so we can make you whole.
From broken to art, stained glass can play a part.

You’re gorgeous. Handsome. Every single word.
Every wonderful thing and every unmarked tomb.

A contradiction. A paradox. A human to be sure. And yet…

At the core…

In the dark, alone, fighting not to give up…
It’s not Courage or Strength… no neither of them show up.

It’s the soft whispered sounds.
It is a gently clasped hand.
It’s the phone call that’s answered.
It’s the note that’s reread.

Hope. Connection. Unity. Having a common thread.
A single thing, a signal in an endless abyss.

Even here, even now, you’ve never been alone in this.

So rest, fierce dragon, brave knight, fair lady.
Mythic fey, epic creature.
Let sleep hold you as Hope softly sings her song.

Know your story matters.
Each chapter a stanza.
Every impact a note.
Pauses are part of the piece.
It -is- ok to take a breath.

You are a piece of art.
All great things take time.
Your story isn’t over.
And I promise you, neither is mine.

Embrace the ash. Sink into the rest.
That’s where your gains come from. When you stop trying to pass a test.

You’re already an achiever.
And it’s ok if you didn’t know.
So…
be fore I let you go…

Here’s a gold star. I made it just for you.
From one survivor to another, because trust me. I see you.

I know the effort. I know the cost.
I know the wounds you still carry,
even if it’s not mentioned in our talks.

This is for breathing.
For existing. Not for what you do.
You’ve earned it, simply by being here.
By being you.

So go on, little snowflake.
Be your special flavor of fun.
The world needs more of you.
Please tell me your story isn’t done.

Tell me about the rebuild.
The stand-up.
The moment you choose to keep going.
Take that step out into the unknown.

Once you wake, and there’s sun, and you see the morning light.
Let the ground greet your feet. Let it support your height.

Stand tall for but a moment.
Let pride fill your chest.
A rainbow of emotions for to be living is to be blessed.

Honor the ones we’ve lost. The versions you had to lay to rest.
Acknowledge where you are, even if it hurts.
And hold hope, ever gently; tenderly so close.

Welcome to Earth, on this wonderful new day.
There may be gray clouds, so let me be the ray.
The one who greets you, who banishes away the night.
The one who says, I’m glad you showed up another day to fight the good fight.

Let us clasp hands, a silent pledge between brethren. Of chosen family and tribal home.
We’re in this to win it. We’re booting up version 2.0.

Now go be a Force of Awesome.
Spread confetti glitter made of cheer.
Make someone disgruntled with your joy.
Take up space.
Raise your voice in song.
Do all of the things we should have been doing all along.

Rage. Grieve. Bitch and burn to ash.
Then step into a new era. The one you deserved.
The one that’s your birthright.
The one where you belong, because everyone deserves a home.

I believe in you. <3
With respect,
Aven

002: Fuck Depression

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Here I am again. Writing. The last time I sat down to do this was February. 

I am through the healing of skin cancer. I have facial scarring on my cheek. That’s still hard to deal with. People still look away from me. It doesn’t sting as much as it used to but it still hurts in its own way. A reminder that I am different.

In the span of these months I was hospitalized for suicidal intention. I know that’s hard for people to read. Sometimes life sucks.

In june my godfather died. Two weeks later Ox’s dad died. A week after that my cousin, who was more like a sister, was taken off life support. The following Monday I had to be back to work, being productive. I tried really hard to be ok, but the truth was I wasn’t and the harder I tried the darker it got inside my head. 

I was placed on short term disability. I went to therapy a lot. I was put on different meds. The best one was Prazosin to help with the night terrors I was having. Being able to sleep was the start to my recovery from crippling depression.

I’m not recovered fully, but I am better than I was and so maybe that counts for something. 

Through therapy it was decided that I wanted to be closer to family. In two weeks I had my stuff packed in my car, cats included, and moved to Ohio to live with my dad. 

I don’t know what that means for Ox and me. We haven’t really talked about it much. We text every so often but it’s not about anything deep. It’s not about the hurt I know is there or the unanswered question of if we are still together. Maybe one day I’ll have it in me to ask those questions, but today doesn’t seem to be that day. 

I was told that I needed to be selfish for a little bit. I need to find myself through all of the wreckage of loss.

What do I want?

I can feel myself pulling away from that question. 

I want my mom back. Forever and always, I will want this thing that I can’t have. Another phone call. One last hug. One more, “I believe in you.”

We celebrated my birthday yesterday. My halfsisters were there with their significant others. It was a “good” evening, and yet I wanted to cry so many times. I didn’t ask for a celebration. I didn’t want one. If I were truly being selfish I would have said no, don’t do this painful thing that reminds me my mom is dead. But I didn’t.

I know they mean well. I know this action comes from a place of love, but I am so tired of people thinking that everything is ok, that I’m fine, that these things don’t hurt.

I want my mom and I can never have that again. It makes everything else seem so pointless and hollow. 

I want to feel safe. I want to feel like my life matters and has a purpose. I want to be financially stable. I want to have my own apartment because it seems like I’ll never be able to own a house. It’s like I fucked that up when I was younger, made stupid choices and now that dream, too, is unattainable. An apartment is more realistic. 

I want a stable job that doesn’t drain the little life I have out of me. 

I want a bdsm relationship. I want to be polyamorous. I want to be me. 

I guess that’s what it comes down to. If I were selfish, I would be wholly, unapologetically me.

How sad that I don’t know what that even means any more. Through all of the loss and struggle and hopelessness, I don’t know who I am in the aftermath. 

So I guess this is the first step to finding myself. Writing. Hearing my own thoughts. My own fears and wants. My own selfishness which is really just another way of saying existence. We all have wants and needs, and I know on some level mine matter. 

I guess I’m hoping that one writing at a time, one small moment at a time, I’ll hear that voice I know is there. The one that got beaten down to nearly nothingness. She’s there, somewhere.

I want her to know I still care. I’m still here. She still matters and I love her.

Daily Post 005: Prescription Refill

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Today is the first time in ages where I have woken up and felt awake. I’m not deathly tired. I didn’t go back to sleep after haphazardly stumbling to use the restroom. It’s such a weird feeling… feeling rested… that I don’t really know what to do… so here I am, sitting in front of my computer, trying to figure it out.

I think there’s a lot that factors into this “rested” feeling. The main one, I think, is medication related.

About three weeks ago I ran out of my Zoloft. I didn’t think much of it. I would get around to refilling the prescription “eventually”. I had stopped taking it before when I was on 25mg and I didn’t notice any side effects so I would be alright…

Wrong.

So hardcore wrong. Omg. >.<;

My dose was increased to 50mg towards the end of last year. My doctor increased it due to my suicidal feelings during nursing school. So queue up discontinuation syndrome about three days after being off of said medication. God, it sucked so hardcore. Mood swings, insomnia, fatigue, depersonalization… which I didn’t know actually had a term.

That feeling where you know you’re not yourself… but you are… but you aren’t… None of the thoughts you are having are really yours, but you’re the only one inside your head so they must be your thoughts… your actions… your feelings… That feeling of having your body hijacked but you’re the one doing the hijacking so how do you stop it or change it?

That feeling where dreams seem halfway real and reality seems halfway fake. You know you’re awake but your skin feels different. Everything is sort of soft, cloudy, hazy… You’re detached and you know you are but you can’t find your way back…

I spent over a week feeling like that. Like I would never be myself again. That these feelings were the rest of my life.

I got the prescription refilled. Making that phone call left me exhausted. Picking up the phone, finding the number, talking to someone and explaining that was going on… I wanted to cry I was so tired.

The next day I picked up the prescription. I then had to wait another week before the meds starting to build up in my system again. Each day got progresively better. I started being able to sleep at night. I started having focus at work again. I started feeling like reality was actually real.

Each day I have felt myself become more balanced. I get closer to being the me I remember being… the me I want to be. The me who has drive and disciple to do things. The me who doesn’t get exhausted by putting laundry away or making a phone call.

I do think a major factor of this past month being hard is the whole med issue. I’ve been more diligent with my Synthroid which continues to be something I struggle with. I finally set up an appointment with my endocrinologist. I have a blood draw tomorrow after work. My appointment with the doctor is next Wednesday. We’ll see if the increase that was made towards the end of last year was/is enough for my blood levels.

Yeah… I was supposed to meet with her in January and never did… There’s a lot of things that I haven’t been doing or have been pushing off. It’s been easier to not do them. Easier to stay inside, away from people, sleeping through the hard and the hurt of winter and mom’s death.

Mom’s fifth death day has come and gone. There’s a whole story behind that. I still haven’t gotten mom her flower. I don’t feel as bad about that as I thought I would. I think a lot of that has to do with Jon and I going out together on the day of her death. We went to Red Lobster, on of her favorite places. We drank and ate and shared stories back and forth. Memories. Emotions. Fears. We laughed. We had tears stinging our eyes. We remembered her together, shared in her memory together, and I think that would have made mom happy. Happier than me buying a flower to mark another year I have survived without her.

I will still get her flower. It’s still important to me. But I think where ever mom is, she knows that it’s ok to be a little late because what ended up happening instead was so much better than what I could have hoped for.

I haven’t been to the gym in a while. I have a membership to the YMCA again. The constant tiredness and consistent depression/apathy has kept me from actually going and doing anything. When I think about packing up my stuff, or changing, or driving, or scanning my card… I feel drained. I feel crushed beneath all of the steps it would take to actually get there, let alone actually working out.

I’ve continued to not eat the best because it’s so much easier to have a cookie or chips than it is to make a meal. But all of that is slowly starting to turn around. I feel like I can go to the gym today. I want to go to the gym today. I want to bike and listen to music. I want to push past all of the anxiety of “what if I’m not good enough?” I know I’m good enough. I know in a week, in two weeks, I’ll be so much better endurance-wise than I am in this current moment. I’ll feel better about myself. I’ll have an outlet for the stress and frustration of work.

Going will help me in so many ways, and while I haven’t done it, haven’t wanted to do it… today is different.

Part of me is scared of the difference. I’ve been… “not me” for so long that I don’t really know what to do. How do I function in the now? How do I function today with these weird feelings of productivity and energy?

And a guess a big part of my problem has always been this aching and longing to be “the old me”. The me before mom died. I know I wrote about it before. About how I need to accept the me I am now. That I can’t go back to who I was before mom died. Too much has happened. Too much has changed. The old me can still be valued and cherished, but I can’t keep expecting myself to be something I no longer am.

I’m not 27 any more. And that’s ok.

So I think that’s going to be my internal project going forward. Accepting the me of today. Not the me who went to the dojo six days a week for 1-3 hours each time. No the me who was unemployeed for a year. Not the me who was a teacher. I want to be ok with the me of today. I want to go forward with current me rather than constantly pining for someone who doesn’t exist anymore.

I am worthy. I have value. I can and will do amazing things. Starting with a to-do list. After writing I’m going to open up my Clever Fox notebook and I’m going to figure out a handful of things. And then I’m going to go to the gym and bike in front of the windows where I can see the sunny day while I listen to music. And then Ox and I will have lunch and get some of the things we need to finish up “Project-Remodel the Bedroom”.

Today is my only day off from work this week. I’ve picked up a lot of extra days recently. I’m sure that feeds into the burnout and compassion fatigue. The depression and “anti-people” feelings. After this week I don’t have extra days. After this week I get to spend a week with my dad because he’s coming to visit. I get to have my three days off in a row where I can make progress on projects and the house and myself.

I think after this week it will be nice and I’m going to start with today because finally, for the first time since starting nursing school, I feel like I can.

Letters to Mom 028: Worksheet 1

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Hey mom,

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything… I started doing grief worksheets in counsling. I think they’re helping… I don’t know. I feel raw right now. I’ve realized I still have a lot to work on/through in regards to losing you. There are some mentalities that I need to address…

I wanted to post my first worksheet so you can see what I wrote. I love you. Forever and for always.

Understanding My Grief

1: I am having the hardest time adjusting to:

You not being here. Physically here. A presence, a person, I can sit across from. Someone I can introduce people to. You were more than your body, but without your body present, it’s not much different than talking about an imaginary friend. No one in my life will know you now. No one will understand what I lost when you died. If I talk about my spiritual connection with you then people think I’m crazy or unstable or having a “hard time letting go”. It sucks. I know you’re still here but I can’t talk about that with really anyone because no one can understand the connection I have with you so does it even really exist? Is it a coping mechanism inside my head that really means nothing? Is it real? Are you truly still here? I don’t have a way to prove it. There’s nothing quantitative that scientifically shows that I’m not alone; that you really are still a part of my life. It’s just me, alone, being my own cheerleader and telling myself the motivational things I want and need to hear to keep going and fighting and struggling and trying. It sucks. It sucks to feel ridiculed and judged and scared to talk about things that are important to me. You ARE important to me. You’re still a cornerstone of who I am and it feels like I can’t share that with anyone anymore. Our relationship isn’t physical, tangible, viewable anymore. It’s all hippy-dippy spiritual stuff with self-imposed importance. No one understands it, not even myself. It’s new and different and scary and I miss the way things used to be.

2: I feel most triggered when I:

Am tired. More than anything I miss you the most when I don’t get enough sleep. When I’m running on fumes and I feel like my world is going to crush me. That’s when I want to hear your voice the most. That’s when I want to call you and tell you how my day went and what my next days look like. That’s when I want your support the most. It’s not even that you would tell me how to fix my problems. You would just be there. You would listen to me. You would make me feel like everything is and will be ok and that I can handle all of the shit I put myself through. You would make me believe in myself no matter how much I wanted to give up. You always believed in me.

Aside from being tired, I am most triggered when I accomplish something. When I reach a goal or hit a new personal record. When I do something you would be proud of. I feel triggered then. Everyone thinks these things are good things and that I should be happy, and part of me is. But part of me is sad, too, and hurts, and no one understands why, or they think I shouldn’t feel that way because you would be happy for me. It makes me feel invalidated or that my emotions are wrong because other people dance around them or try to sweep them under the rug. I know they’re not easy emotions for other people to deal with, and part of that is a flaw, a shortcoming in society. But it sucks to feel like I have to hide my emotions all the time, or deal with them alone because I “shouldn’t” feel a certain way. I miss you. I still want you to be part of my life. I still want you to be part of my accomplishments and when you can’t be it hurts, deeply, and to feel like I am wrong for hurting sucks.

3: What happens when I feel triggered?

I cry, sometimes. Other times I lay in bed all day and skip out on the social obligations I’ve given myself. Everything takes more energy than it “should”. Doing dishes or laundry, replying to an email… All of those small, simple things that should be easy to complete feel like mountains that I don’t have the fortitude to climb because what’s the point when you’re dead? All of the trivial things in life feel so much more pointless because in the grand scheme of things they don’t matter. I hurt. I’m bleeding out through a wound no one can see. In those moments the only thing I care about is surviving, somehow, to the next day where I can maybe, hopefully, be better enough, recovered, enough to keep going and do more than I did the previous day.

When I’m extremely triggered I scream. Normally this is while I’m driving alone; where I”m safe from other people and their judgement and worry. I scream until my throat is raw and my voice is hoarse and I have nothing left in my body to give. I scream my rage and injustice and injury into the universe even though I know my anguish means nothing to it. Sometimes I hurt so much that I can’t keep it contained within my being. I HAVE to scream or I’ll suffocate under the burden that is your loss. I haven’t done that in a while. I don’t do it as much as I used to. But it still happens and I’ve learned to not deny those moments their time. They help me survive and if they help me survive then hopefully they’re not a bad thing.

4: Who and/or what is providing support during this time?

Ox provides the most support. He’s the one who listens to me. He’s the one who lets me read my writings out loud. He’s the one who holds me and lets me cry. He’s the one who lets me say “I feel alone” even as he’s holding me. I know it has to be hard for him. I can only imagine how it must feel for your significant other to say “I feel alone” when there’s literally no space between you. He lets me break down. He lets me be vulnerable and sad. He helps me take small steps on the days where I feel like I can’t get out of bed. We’ll do something connective, or he’ll simply let me stay in bed next to him. He has never once made me feel bad or weak for being injured and I appreciate that.

5: When I think about the one I lost I immediately feel:

Hurt. I don’t know if there are words to accurately describe what it is I feel, but hurt is the best term I can think of. My chest feels tight. My heart feels like it’s trying to shatter into thousands of pieces. I feel weak, and small, and vulnerable and broken. I feel like I’ll never be able to be the person I was before; carefree and whole. I feel like I’ll never be able to love the way I did before because I’m so aware of how things can change; how the one you love can suddenly no longer be there and the pain that loss can and will cause. I feel scared because I know I’ll experience grief again and I’m not sure how I’ll be able to handle it next time. I don’t know if it will be the situation that wins because I’m already so tired trying to understand and make peace with the grief I feel for you. I feel battle weary when I think of your death. I feel like I lost my companion and no one will ever be able to fill the spot you held in my life quiet the way you filled it.

6: I express my emotions by:

Not. Lawl… Seriously though, I tend to not express my emotions. I acknowledge that I don’t feel ok, but very rarely do I have a proper coping mechanism that lets me deal with those emotions. I sleep a lot. I stay away from people more. I wait until I feel better, but I don’t know of anything that actually helps to make me FEEL better. It’s like ripping open a healing wound. The only thing you can do is wait for it to heal up again. Nothing makes it heal faster. You just have to give it time and wait and hope it doesn’t get infected or worse.

7: I give myself permission to process what I am feeling by:

Being alone and not giving myself shit for it. By crying because for a while I used to get upset at myself for doing that. Screaming. Writing. Thinking. I give myself permission to feel unconditionally. My emotions are not wrong and they are valid regardless of what they are.

8: What strengths do I have from previous experiences that can help me during this time?

I don’t know. I don’t feel that I have strengths. I go day by day hoping that I make it through and that I do well and that I don’t fuck up. I have no plan for what I’m doing with my life. It’s mostly, “This seems like a good idea…” But is it really? I don’t have you to talk to. I don’t have your perspective. I don’t know how you handled Mawmaw and grandaddy dying. I don’t know how you got through it so I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through it. I’m trying so hard. I’m doing what I think is my best, but is it? Could I be doing better? Do you think I’m doing well? I don’t know what to do, mom. I really don’t and I’m sorry.

9: During this process, I have learned that:

I can survive the death of you. I wish I couldn’t. I wish that was the worst thing that could happen to me and that it would kill me and that it would all be over and we could be together again. But here I am, 4 and a half years later, still going, still accomplishing, still having people think that I’m strong and amazing and a mentor and a role model. I’m on anti-depressants because I can’t cope effectively with my life without them. I bury myself in pointless tasks because staying busy keeps me distracted from my grief rather than actually doing anything about it.

I’ve learned a lot of things about myself, about my grief, about other people, especially those in my life. But I think that’s the biggest thing I’ve learned; that your death wasn’t the end of my world, and for me that sucks.

Daily Post 218: The Interrupted Writing

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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

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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

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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

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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!!!

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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

Ok…

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. <3

Daily Post 139: Just a Ramble

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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.