Tag: 2024

Hello, I’m Spinning

I’m not ok. It’s taken a long time to admit to myself. Holly has been gone seven years.

It makes sense to admit it here. Where the wind howls around the dust-filled corners of this blog from lack of new words. Perhaps no one will read this. Do people even have blogs anymore? I don’t care. I’ve always written for myself.

I’m spinning. I have no coping mechanisms. I’ve been “saving” old books or buying depending on your perspective. But I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. No recreational drugs– too risky for me. I don’t drive my car recklessly or gamble. I guess maybe I’ve been overeating, that was my mother’s thing. But it’s more like the sedentary life is killing me. 

I don’t have “faith.” To me, I mean that I no longer live my life as if I need or believe in God. I’ve always been exceptionally hard on myself but this truth seems especially important to admit for some reason: My life is secular. I have not entered a church in more than a year before that it was before Covid. I have no relationship with discipleship. That’s just a church word for mentoring done by someone spiritually wise with someone who is less so but yearns to be worthy.

Unless you count my bookshelves and the authors who speak loudly and profoundly. The same goes for the influence of friends. Na da. Even my lovely partner is silent with me. I’m fairly convinced he loathes me, for I have felt angry, sullen, and isolated. I’m so judgemental that my adult son pointed it out to me more than once; I’ve embarrassed him. That humiliated me but in the best way. In the way that your heart knows already and wants to do better.   I tried a rubber band to stop my mouth, at least so that he wouldn’t hear what a terrible person I’d become.  This was hard to stick with. That snap hurts! Plus, what do I do with my head which won’t stop criticizing me? I lost my sister (a different sister than Holly) because she couldn’t hear my sarcasm, anger, and meanness any longer. She walked out of my life. I probably deserved it. It’s my penance for turning into my dad when I’m around her. I can’t say her name because her final straw was my talking about us on Facebook.

The last time I saw Holly, was in February 2018 in Couer d’Alene, ID
My mother and I de-boning the Thanksgiving turkey.
My kids.

I miss my parents. I never realized I’d miss them when they were dead. I think I hated my parents my whole life. There were many reasons, simplified it was for the control. And the neglect. “Emotional whiplash for breakfast, honey?” Lack of trust to make decisions, any decisions, from what to wear to what or if I’d attend college, to whether I could date a Black friend, have a lesbian roommate, or move overseas. I was not to: Be unique. Or be original.  Because there was a ” right way” to think,  to be, to believe, to live. 

Pick, pick, pick. Criticism. Correction. Outrage. Disappointment.  I’m fairly certain the only thing my father was proud of me for was the Urbana job. For my mother, it was marrying Tom. He’s “A good man” by which she meant not a controlling, angry, abusive bastard like my father. And I was a good mother, she thought.  But I was an alcoholic and workaholic, and I barely remember when my kids were little because of it– like her and my father.  I’ll never forgive myself.

So why do I miss them I wonder? Because childhood would bring Holly back to life. And I would protect her this time.

This is year six.

Do you remember when I last saw Holly? It was around this time, six years ago, in late February 2018, and despite the challenges she was going through, she was determined to keep her kids’ lives as normal as possible. She drove over to Couer d’Alene,  ID, from Washington with her kids. We had about half a day, so we ate breakfast, let the kids swim in the resort’s pool, and hung out. It was inspiring to witness her strength, but I recall she was pretty depleted from all the adversity she faced with the divorce. Although I was feeling drained from our social commitments and meetings, I remain grateful for the last memories and Tom and I having had the opportunity to be there for her during such a difficult time.

I have been struggling with migraines for the past three years, which has been quite discouraging. Despite receiving countless recommendations from various individuals, I have tried many remedies with some success. However, my life has been heavily impacted and many activities have become difficult to manage with migraines, including travel, communication, productivity, reading, writing, creativity, work (both personal and professional), shopping, cleaning, caring for others, and taking care of my own well-being. According to my neurologist/headache specialist, the headaches I’ve been experiencing are likely a result of the chronic stress I’ve been under for the past decade.

I “retired” to tackle migraines head-on, not to mention it had become impossible to work. By now, I presumed I would be better at spending my time doing something fun and creative, but that didn’t happen, and I have a chronic illness because otherwise. I find myself once again nosediving straight into a mental health crisis. If you know my story, you comprehend how frightened I am.

Yesterday, I acknowledged to myself that I need a non-negotiable daily routine. I began with walking. Cleaned my study for the first time since Christmas.

I’m thinking, for self-care:

Sleep hygiene by setting a bedtime and wake time, getting sunlight first thing, movement, nutrition, eating breakfast, getting dressed for the day, limiting the people and things in my life that vex me, spending time in nature a couple of times a week, and stress management.

How do you manage self-care? What are your daily non-negotiables?

Melody