Letters to Mom 025: Remembering to Love

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Hey mom,

I should have known tonight would be a sleepless night. It’s midnight. I have class, my first one of the LPN program, at 8 AM, which means I need to be leaving here around 6:30 AM which means I should be waking up around 5 AM to make sure I’m showered and packed and ready to go.

That means if I fall asleep right now, this instant, that I would get five hours of sleep. It’s not going to happen. I would rather write to you instead.

A lot has happened in a short amount of time.

I worked a billion hours the past two months or so. I’m glad that stint of my life is over. I took a vacation to see Jon. It was nice. I saw Mother Earth and Sir while I was there. We played a new game called Red Flags. I think you would have liked it.

Jon and I talked a lot while I was there. We talked about you. We talked about the fights we had at the hospital while you were there. We talked about our grief and how each of us feels about it. He’s worried that I’m stagnating and not “moving on”. He thinks that because I talked about how your birthday still hurts me. How significant events, important days, still deeply hurt and make me cry.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should be “better” or whatever, but I’m not and I’m ok with that. I want your birthday to hurt. I want it to mean something to me. I want all of those days that are connected to you to still mean something because otherwise, it will feel like I’m losing the last bit of you that I still have.

I got sick while I was on vacation. To the point where Sunday morning, after flying back to Nebraska, I was coughing so hard so frequently that I started coughing up trace amounts of blood. I went to an urgent care facility but they wouldn’t see me when I described what was going on. They said that I needed to go to the ER. So I did. Ox drove me. He stayed with me the whole time. I had to have chest x-rays done. I had to have labs drawn. They gave me two breathing treatments while we waited on results because my lungs sounded so awful.

In the end, they diagnosed me with bronchitis and sent me home with an inhaler and steroids to take for five days. I sent a message to work to let them know I wouldn’t be able to cover my shift Monday due to what was going on. I don’t feel bad about it. In a year and a half I’ve called in once and I was literally in the ER.

The online portion of classes unlocked today. Since I stayed home from work I did a bunch of that stuff. It kept me busy while Ox was at work. We met in Lincoln for lunch. I tried a new soup at the Chinese place we like on Sunday after the ER visit. We had time to kill before my prescriptions were filled and I needed to try to eat something since I’ve been eating relatively poorly since Thursday. Something about my body trying its damnedest to kill me just ruins my appetite. Much lame.

Anyway, they had a seafood soup that sounded interesting. I tried it and really liked it. So much so that I asked to go there again today so I could have it for lunch. I only ate half, but that meant I had a snack later. It’s definitely a nice change of pace from the chicken broth and grilled cheese sandwiches I’ve been eating. Ox does make some pretty amazing grilled cheese sandwiches, though. Definitely not slumming it.

While we were in town, Ox and I went to Barns and Noble to look at Dungeons and Dragons books. That’s something that Jon and I did while I was in Florida. We played D&D a couple of times and it was so much fun. Ox and I looked into groups here around Lincoln and found one that meets Wednesday nights. We need to have our own books and dice, so that’s what we did today. We went and got the books we needed and the dice so we can play in a couple of days.

We’ll be able to game together, outside of the house, away from electronics. Maybe we’ll even make friends outside of work.

I don’t know why but I’m super looking forward to it even though I have yet to transfer my character information from Jon’s account to my own. There’s a website where you can keep track of your character information digitally. It’s pretty awesome and I know none of that really makes much sense to you, but I know if we were talking in person you would be smiling at my enthusiasm and happy simply for the fact that I’m happy and excited and looking forward to something.

And I guess that’s where things get weird and painful. I’m looking forward to things and it hurts. I’m kind of excited about my class and that hurts, too. I wrote posts for discussion boards and you weren’t here to proofread them. I’m having to explain all over again why I’m entering the medical field. I’m having to explain the situation we went through and how it affected me and why I feel so deeply about helping people.

I was laying next to Ox before I decided to get up and write. I was thinking about how he’s been so supportive of me over the last year and a half; how he’s been so supportive and kind while I’ve been sick. I remembered some of the conversations I’ve had with him. The ones where I said I felt like I didn’t love him the way he deserved to be loved and that I felt broken and didn’t know if I would ever be able to love the way I used to.

I do love him, mom. I wish you could meet him. I wish he could meet you. I know you want me to be happy. I remember one time, you and I were talking about pets. I think it was about Bonnie, our first cat. She was older than I was when she died. Eighteen years old. I was young. Hardly a teenager, if that.

You said something about getting another pet eventually and I didn’t understand. How could you get another cat? How could you replace Bonnie?

You explained that you weren’t replacing her. You had loved Bonnie as much as you could while she was alive. How could you deny another animal the same love and compassion simply because you hurt? How was it right to withhold something from someone else for something they had nothing to do with?

I know we were talking about pets, animals, and to some people that logic wouldn’t apply to humans, but I think I understand what you were saying back then. What you were really saying.

It’s not right of me to not love as deeply, as intensely, as passionately as I used to just because you died. I know it sucks. I know it hurts. Holy fuck, do I know how much it hurts and aches and tries to tear me apart still. I know how much I hate it and how I wish I could change it and have you still physically be a part of my life.

But at the same time, it’s not fair of me to deny Ox the level and depth of love and connection he deserves to have. The level and depth that I am able to give if only I would allow myself to give it. To accept that yes, one day one of us will die, and that will suck, horrifically suck, but that doesn’t make it right for me to not love in the now. To give that for as long as I can while we are together.

I think that’s what you would want me to do. To allow myself to love, fully, and to not deny the people in my life that simply because I hurt, or am worried about future hurt.

These are pretty heavy thoughts to be having seven hours before my first class, but there you go. Sometimes that’s just how life works I guess.

I miss you, mom. I miss you a lot. I think I’m going to try loving. Actually loving. Fully loving. Ox deserves that. The relationship I have with him deserves that. And I think, deep down, somewhere inside me, you deserve that. You raised me to be stronger than internal and emotional pain. You raised me to overcome things like this. To work through them and function past them. To learn from them.

I think I’m learning. It’s taking a while, and god does it fucking hurt, mom, but I think I’m getting there. One painful remembered lesson at a time.

I love you, forever and for always. Thanks for being my mom and for still being with me.

Daily Post 035: Kidney Stones VS Childbirth

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I’m not going to apologize for my life. I’m not going to apologize for not writing. I’m not going to apologize for spending money or for playing video games. I’m not going to apologize for being sick or frustrated or tired.

I still don’t feel much at the moment even though the depression and apathy I have been feeling for the past several weeks seem to be easing their grip.

Big Bad and I finally got to spend an evening together. I don’t know when we’ll be able to see each other again. Maybe not until the weekend after next. We enjoyed our time together we both slept well. In the morning, he went to the gym, letting me sleep in, though I did wake up when he text me to let me know he would be back. I replied with my own message to which he replied, “Go back to sleep :p ”

Our exchange made me smile as I snuggled deeper into the blankets and his scent. It made me feel like I belonged which was extremely nice after feeling so alone for so long. We finally were able to share coffee together again. We got to talk about the things going on in our lives which included my trip to the ER.

I had a kidney stone Friday morning. That sucked. Like, literally was the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life, level of suck which I feel is saying a lot for how hard I play with my partners as a masochist. I was in so much pain I threw up and couldn’t walk. Warren took me to the ER since of course this happened at 1 am and all of the urgent care clinics were closed. FML.

And to make it even better, on the way to the ER the pain faded. By the time we got checked in and I saw someone I was still dazed and fuzzy from the intensity of the pain, but I could walk again, and I could answer all of their questions though I was sort of slow on some of them.

They put an IV in my arm in case the pain came back I and needed medication. I had blood work drawn which included a pregnancy test. Good news. I’m not pregnant. Big Bad was also appreciative of that result. I had a CT scan, which that stands for computerized tomography. You learn something new every day, right? I also had an ultrasound and a few other tests run.

I had a CT scan, which that stands for computerized tomography. You learn something new every day, right? I also had an ultrasound and a few other tests run.

Everything was inconclusive.

The doctor, an extremely nice lady, said given my symptoms and description they believed it was a kidney stone that was too small to show up on the scan.

While I was waiting in between all of my poking and prodding I consulted the wise and mighty Google, asking it what the causes of kidney stones could be.

Basically, it’s one of those, “if you breathe you might get one” sort of things… dehydration could cause it, too much protein in your diet can cause it, being sick can cause it, genetics can cause it. Most adults will experience at least one kidney stone in their life. I’m totally ok with having this off of my to-do list because when I say it sucked and was the worst pain I have ever experienced, it’s not a joke or exaggeration. According to the Internet, kidney stones are worse than childbirth. There’s some food for thought.

I think what happened is the stone formed due to my sinus infection or as a result of the antibiotic I took to fend off the ear infections because of the sinus infection.

Whatever the cause, I’m seriously done with this being sick thing.

On an unrelated note… Big Bad and I said the L word to each other. Actually, we typed it to each other since we were exchanging emails but as introverts, we both count it as “saying” it. Maybe “admitting” would be a better word to use.

I don’t think it will ever be commonplace for us to say it to each other. Not for a while at least. I think we’re both still skittish about things like that due to our past experiences, but we’re both happy we’ve addressed it. I know, at least for myself, when my friend asked me how I felt about telling him I love him I replied with “vulnerable”. I’m pretty sure he’s in a similar boat.

Yes. We love each other. That doesn’t change anything or require anything more or less from either of us. We like how things are. I’m glad that if anything were to happen to me, or to him, that we’ve had the exchange we did. Neither one of us will leave having doubt about the other person’s feelings. That means a lot to me.

I don’t like thinking that I might die and not get a chance to say the things I want to say to the people I care about. It makes me feel like I’m not living my life the way I should be living it. Fully, completely, every day. When I hold back from saying something I’m assuming I’ll have tomorrow, which isn’t true. Nothing guarantees me more time so I want to say and do the things I want to while I can rather than later because there might not be a later.

I finally said what I’ve been holding onto for months. It’s relieving. I’m glad I was able to say it and that we’re still ok.

Work is going well. I was going through overwhelmed feelings, but that’s eased up a little bit. Since I had to miss work Friday due to the kidney stone I’m going to be at my clinic all week next week. No mind numbing power point lecture for me. Woohoo.

Hey, Universe… just for the record… I would have rather sat through the power point than experience pain worse than childbirth… You know… in case you were wondering…

In other news, I have a new gym membership. I know… I seem to be going through them like candy. I feel a need to write this out so I can straighten it out in my own mind.

Because of the work schedule I have now, I can’t make it to classes at the boxing club like I was, so even though I enjoy my membership and I love the instructors, it’s not getting used and won’t be renewed. I’m actually going to talk to them about ending the contract, which that will require more writing about later.

I wasn’t using the YouFit, and the only reason I had that one was because it was $10 a month with no contract and let me run inside while it was cold due to winter. There really wasn’t much else going for it which is why I canceled it as soon as it started warming up.

I still have the dojo membership and I will be keeping this regardless of my schedule. It sort of sucks right now though. I can’t really make it to the classes, not without totally fucking over my sleep schedule, which is why I’ve switched over to doing private lessons twice a week. I’m mostly focusing on conditioning and technique, which I’ve already noticed some pretty serious results, so I’m not complaining too much about the switch. I do need to acknowledge my ache from not being able to spar with my dojo family at the moment. So while, yes, technically I am there, I’m still missing a large part of what it means to be at the dojo. At least for me. It’s a temporary change, but it still aches.

I do miss going to the YMCA like I was when I worked at Full Sail. I stopped attending that because I lost the benefit through work, but mostly because they tore the building down to rebuild it. I would possibly entertain the idea of going back except with my new schedule, even if the building was done, which it won’t be until next year, I would have the same issue as the boxing club. I work too early to workout before work and the classes in the evening are too late for me to do them after work.

So that brings in this gym. 24 Hour Fitness. Warren is actually the one who told me about it since he just got a membership there.

They’re open 24 hours, which is instantly a plus. They have saunas and showers. Already sold.

In addition to having those three of my requirements, they have a nifty system with their studio room. They offer classes during certain hours, but on “off” hours there’s a TV. You’re able to search for different types of classes, combat body, yoga, step class, strength building, whatever. You can select that class and do it on your own by following the instructor on the TV. They’re also working on getting punching bags because that’s a huge request from the gym members, including myself.

There’s a facility within biking distance of my apartment, and walking distance from work, though I would most likely drive, and you get access to all facilities with your membership; no having to pay an extra fee or more expensive membership to get that perk.

I’ve gone to the gym since Wednesday. Thursday I ran for the first time in what feels like forever. I’ve shaved two minutes off my run time. I didn’t hurt during or after my run. I was breathing extremely well through it, too. I’ve had a quiet empty space to do yoga every time I’ve gone, and once I’m done I get to sit in the sauna and relax, doing my dragon thing and basking and in general not giving a fuck about anything going on in Life because Life can’t touch me while I’m surrounded by the heat and warmth. For those 15 minutes, Life doesn’t matter. My run time doesn’t matter. Work doesn’t matter. Rent doesn’t matter.

It’s my 15 minutes of silence and I’m glad I have it back. I think it’s helped.

I still ache in my chest from my grief. I can still feel it. A heaviness. A tenderness that I don’t want to touch or deal with. Sort of like when a cut is infected. It hurts so you don’t want to do anything with it, but until you scrub out the infection and clean the wound it’s not going to get better. The pain has to get worse before it gets better.

I think that’s where I’m at right now. I think I need to do some meditation or further writing to figure out why I’ve hurt so much recently.

I think there’s a lot of factors for it. Not seeing my blacksmith or Big Bad for so long led me to feel disconnected. Being so severely sick didn’t help anything. There’s still stress regarding the apartment. There’s stress from work. Until recently there was also the reduction of workout time, which for me feels like a punishment; like I’m having to give up a part of myself.

I talked to my brother Thursday afternoon as I was leaving work. I needed to talk to someone. I needed someone who would understand why I was sad and crying and I needed to know that I could cry and still be loved I guess. That I wasn’t weak or broken.

I told him that all of my coworkers constantly tell me that I’m doing well. Everyone is so encouraging and supportive. I told him that I appreciated their words and that they really do mean a lot to me, but that I still felt like a failure because I wanted to hear mom tell me those things. I wanted to know mom believed in me and supported me. I told him that I started trash talking myself in my head, saying that I would never get this and that I should quit, but that I stopped myself because I can’t do that to myself anymore. Mom isn’t here to counter the Evil Voice. I usually don’t let it get very far anyway, but I CAN’T let it erode my confidence away. Mom’s not here to clean up my scrapped knees anymore.

I remembered something on the way home after the conversation with my brother. It was a situation from a while ago. I had been packing up my stuff at the apartment I shared with Zane. At the moment I was working on taking down the cards my mom had sent me. I always kept them taped up around my corkboard so I was taking the tape off of them and putting them away in a box. These were my last words from my mom. I couldn’t get rid of them.

I wasn’t really reading them, but I was looking at them. There was one, a gray and white picture of a baby duck on a board looking down into a large bowl of water.

I picked up the card and pulled the tape off of it, just like I had all the others. When I set it down the card fell open and on the inside was the phrase, “I believe in you”.

I remember I bawled my eyes out as I sat on the floor. And I cried again in my car as I remembered that event because that day all I had wanted was to feel like my mom believed in me and that I was doing the right thing. She’s always believed in me. I have to remember that even though I can’t hear those words the same way anymore.

I know my mom is proud. I used to pass out at the sight of paper cuts and here I am doing dialysis. Go me. Fuck yeah, I’m a badass, and even though I know that about myself I still wish she were still physically here to see it and to say those things to me. And I guess that’s why everything hurts so much right now.

So many things have been happening and I still long for that physical connection. Her hug, her voice, her existence.

I’ve been doing well. This past month will be known as “The Dark Age of 2017” since I’ve survived the plague that’s tried to kill me eight million different ways.

Today is 14 months. One year and two months since her death.

Today has been a decent day. I’ve started playing World of Warcraft again with my younger brother. We spend most of the day running my character through dungeons. I cooked all of my food for the coming week. I even cleaned the apartment.

Internally I’m still heavy though. There wasn’t really happiness today. There hasn’t been for a while. There’s something more real and less fleeting than happiness instead. I don’t think it’s contentment or acceptance. I don’t know what it is, but it’s very flat, calm. It wasn’t a hard or heavy day and in my tired state of mind, I’m glad for that.

Tomorrow I wake up early to go to the gym before work. I work until 3 pm. Afterward, I have training at the dojo. Then I go home, shower, eat, and go to sleep. Maybe I’ll play on the computer for a little bit depending on how tired I am.

I haven’t felt like writing. I haven’t felt like doing much, but despite that, I’ve done a lot and I’ve been hanging in there. I may not be ok. I may not be doing ok. But I’m surviving, and I still want to survive. I want that to count towards something. Like a solid baseline maybe. It’s not positive or negative. Getting through everything I have been contending with goes into strengthing my foundation.

None of this has been as hard as the weeks leading up to or after mom’s death, but a lot of this shit HAS been hard and I still got it all taken care of.

That counts.