“Better late than never!” I say to myself as I upload a few rolls of summer AFTER I already posted the fall ones. But if I had to be open and honest with myself, that is just how I operate. I am not timely & organized, and while sometimes I get caught up in the illusion that somehow if I just could be either of those things, then I’d be much more successful in my endeavors.
But that means I’d have to measure success in the way I was brought up too, and I just know it in my bones I will never feel comfortable conforming to those societal standards. And perhaps that keeps me a bit behind, maybe less reliable, less approachable but who cares? Probably no one. Just me and my ever present self judgement. I am realizing that I hold myself to seriously high standards and might appear to expect the same of my peers, but I don’t. I would love to live in a world where we are all on the same page, but maybe that would be really boring? Idk regardless, to those who’ve felt my wrath of self judgement and taken it personally, I apologize. If you think I’m hard on you, imagine how I am inside my own head. When you were trying really hard as a child to get any ounce of attention and support from parent’s who just couldn’t give you that, it makes for an adult with unrealistic ideas of how to maintain relationships. These aren’t excuses for my behaviors however, and please know I am working hard on trying to fix how I interact with the world.
I am stuck in the end of year crises where I do the whole “wtf am I doing?” kind of vibe thing that helps keep me un-stuck; even if while I’m feeling this way, it feels like I’m stuck. 8 years ago I started this damn blog to “process my grief”, but documenting it felt really trite after awhile. I don’t think there is a proper way to visually and wholly describe grief and the years of life it takes from you. 8 years later and I still get very, very sad this time of year. Sometimes it doesn’t even feel like it’s about the same grief anymore, as it’s evolved as I do and experience more “less than ideal” situations. A visitor came by unannounced and dropped off things from my previous residence. I wasn’t ready to see her and I’m glad she just texted. I have yet to respond. Her timing was, as it was last year when she kicked me out in a amphetamine fueled paranoia rage on the week of Christmas, impeccable. A mere few days before the 8 year anniversary of the worst day of my life. Left with my things, a text that was devoid of emotion, in the way an active addict’s language is, no matter the 20 years of friendship you once had where you were used to speaking your own made up language together. But it held none of that playful banter that once was, and a quick “I’m sorry it took so long to get these things back to you”. Now that pissed me tf off. Oh you’re sorry it took you a year to get my stuff back? How about “I’m sorry I kicked you out on the week of Christmas with one month to move. I’m sorry that you broke out into a rash for 2 months after moving out because of the stress? I’m sorry you had to cash out your 401K so you could afford to live alone? I’m sorry I am staying in an abusive relationship that is causing not only myself harm, but those around me as well? I’m sorry I just showed up at your new place, the one which you did not give me your address too, only for you to spiral into a PTSD panic attack for 3 days because you’re afraid of where I could be at mentally?”.
Well of course she can’t apologize for things she doesn’t know, and she is probably already deep in her shame for her own choices. Or maybe she isn’t. Addiction and mental illness really cloud our perceptions of each other, from the user to the people around them. But my grief also let me spiral and I was so sad that I can’t just react like a normal person when these things happen. My body just remembers how I felt on that night I found my fiancé’s dead body and goes right back into fight or flight mode. And then when the person who birthed me couldn’t even take the time to reach out, even after my oldest sister called her to tell her I was in a rough spot because of the anniversary and the visit, well that became the icing on the cake of what has now been a 3 week high functioning depression episode that I’ve absolutely used self isolation and a glass of wine every night to deal with. And then my grief, as it does, turned a bit to anger because Jono was supposed to be my husband and we’d die together after figuring out all the hard stuff with each other. But I’m stuck here in the trenches of a world that is very wounded, trying to figure out the hard stuff all alone.
BUT I WILL BE OK. “You’ve always been able to figure things out”-my mom. I mean she’s not wrong, but I wonder if she knows my hyper-independent lifestyle stems from her emotional neglect. And I forgive her this because I’m sure her mother did the same thing to her. While it hurts not to have a mother or father I can seek for comfort, I do have a large community of friends who I can. And while I’m still in the training wheel period of asking for help when I need it, it’s getting steadier every day. So oops! This was another not so positive post, I think that things are heading in a better direction as I learn every day how to cope with this world and love harder than I ever have before. Maybe I’ll try being softer tomorrow.
Anyway here’s some photos of summer and wonderful people I love dearly.
