Truly, I have never worked with such incredible people. (See previous post for handwritten context.)

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Truly, I have never worked with such incredible people. (See previous post for handwritten context.)
Wesā mom passed away yesterday. I am ⦠feeling very matter-of-fact about it. Iām sad for everyone who is sad about it, without any judgement of my own, but Iām feeling very unaffected personally. Unusually so, I thought at first. I asked my coach if this was fucking weird because it feels so unlike me, and she said it was healthy in a different way than grieving is healthy, but still healthy nonetheless. Wesā mom was an extreme alcoholic who lost her will to live after her abusive boyfriend died 3 months ago. The situation is deeply sad. Lots of people are sad that sheās gone. I am not, and it was an incredibly weird realization that Iām not, but it makes sense.
I spent the better part of a decade running damage control in the aftermath of other peopleās dealings with her, people I love. For ten years, all I saw was the raw and ugly side of how she impacted people I care deeply and protectively forāboth before and after I understood (was reminded) that addiction is devastation. I picked up pieces of things and relationships she broke, over and over, instead of having any type of relationship with her myself, a lot of which was my choice. I grieved my own loss of her as my favorite aunt, as someone in my huge fucked up family I actually had a relationship with at all, long ago. I accepted that she would probably not ever change, and I accepted that she would probably continue being cruel to people who attempted to help her until she died. (That remained true.) I took on a significant role in raising Wes, which I was terribly unequipped to do, because of her and her refusal to seek and accept help before it got capital-B Bad. (Iāve worked through all sorts of other feelings of how my own parents affected all of this too.) Wesā mom had a heavy, uncomfortable indirect effect on me for a long, long time that I couldnāt escape and Iāve harbored an incredible amount of anger and resentment towards her for it and because of my often strained relationship with Wes in all its varying stages ever since my parents took him in ten years ago. I went through all the stages of grief about her while she was still alive and only yesterday realized that I had reached this weird finality, some strange kind of acceptance without knowing it some time ago. And now she is gone. All of the anger and resentment that has existed in me all this time, this quiet but powerful little frequency with nowhere to goāI can finally set it down. I donāt feel sad, I feel relief. I feel worry too, I am worried for deeply self-destructive Wes, but more than anything Iām just fucking sad for him. I have been for a while. Iāve finally arrived at the realization that I can be sad for him from a distance if he, too, refuses to seek and accept help. I hope he chooses light when he can and support when he canāt. I hope, I hope.
I think I want to move back to Chicago.
Here are the things I want to do, in no particular order and with varying degrees of certainty:
⢠Move home (ugh why canāt I create a bulleted list on mobile anyway my momās starting to age, I mean sheās fine but her knees got bad fast and now my aunt drives her around while her doctors figure out when they can give her whatever magic shots she gets, meanwhile Iām over here gallivanting around in Colorado not appreciating nature and shitāit should be me driving her around, getting her groceries, whatever I can. I can do my gallivanting in Chicago surrounded by much better food.)
⢠Start my own company / work for myself / be a girl boss / whatever the fuck ā I want to keep doing what Iām doing, just not for a single company (I am also terrified of not having steady income at 37, not having insurance, not being good at sales ever, fuck)
⢠Get a boob job (will I have kids? Who knows/cares)
⢠Repossess the car I bought for Wes in 2021 (told you we had a lot to catch up on)
⢠Complain about the weather in the Midwest as my main personality trait now that Iāve lived somewhere where itās basically ideal (Iām still not outdoorsy whatsoever but the weather in Denver is pretty amazing all the time)
⢠Get married for free in both Denver and Chicago with all my favorite people at both, like they all attend both and it doesnāt cost me anything
What do we think?
I think I want to move back to Chicago.
I just sat through an incredible webinar about narcissism, trauma, abuse and toxic environments in the workplace. Iāve come a LONG way in the time Iāve been with my current company, and I also feel more balanced about my past experiences after just this hour than I have talking to any therapist about it during or after.
More of this in 2023, holy shit.
How do you guys blog? Like, whatās your style? Do you sit down at a dedicated time? Do you blog at work (or at home while working from home)? Do you use a phone, a keyboard-having gadget of some kind, a work-owned keyboard-having gadget of some kind? Do you write whenever the mood strikes or do you curate things? Both? Something else? Do you always have to have Luther Vandross playing in the background (like me) or ?
My askbox (wow blast from the past) should be on and should be anonymous if thatās important. (If it isnāt, tell me and Iāll make it so.) Iāll tell you why Iām asking all these questions next time.
7:19, Iām an idiot*.
I started taking extended release adderall (can I say that here? You canāt in Facebook groups) a little while ago and didnāt consider any interactions with the cold meds Iām taking. It was never an issue (as far as I could tell) on the immediate release but I took a DayQuil at like 8pm. I know there arenāt heavy stimulants in daytime cold meds but the armchair doctors on the internet say it (phenylephrine) can fuck shit up a little bit if youāre also taking the good stuff. I canāt tell how legitimate it is but Iād bet half my next paycheck thatās whatās up, nothing else is any different. Cool, great.
I feel fine except for not being tired at all. Iāll pull the occasional all-nighter when Iām in panic/cram mode for work (thanks grad school) but I donāt think Iāve ever stayed up justā¦because.
Work should be fun today, huh?
4:33, still at it. Will this be an all-nighter? Just for not being sleepies?? That would be so stupid, but it might be. (My alarm is set for 5:30am tomorrow/most workdays, and would you believe I hit snooze for like an hour, every fucking day, and Matt still wants to marry me??)
My nose will not stop leaking and I canāt figure it out. Itās really bad. I have Kleenex just stuck up there, Iām coughing, my eyes are watering too. I am a vision right now.
My phone just alerted me to ask how rested I felt when waking up today. Cruel and unusual.
I also meant to post this photo in my last post but I canāt figure out how to replace, also why not just do a second one anyway? Yes we have better pictures but those arenāt for blogs, theyāre for aunts and uncles. We are considering āāāāengagement photosāāāā but weāre in our mid/late 30s and weāre so awkward, you guys. Iād want to find a coach to help me learn how to pose and smile and not hate the outcome. Iām 37, itās fine. My face here is not ideal and would you believe this is a Walmart bathroom? Anyway, thatās what I look like as a fiancĆ©e who drove for 7 hours straight (15 total) and braved the Iowan highways in an early snowstorm after the sun went down just to see our goofy families and celebrate with them and I guess talk about Christmas a bit too.
Welcome (back) to my blog where I write about the tissues stuck up my nose and complain about my face in the same selfie pose Iāve been using for as long as I surrendered to the concept of a camera phone.
Iām going to go take a nap on the couch before I *actually* have to get up for work. Itās 700 degrees cooler down there. I expect to have the best 42-minute sleep of my life and will definitely not wake up in a terrible mood. Tomorrow will not suck at all.
Itās 3am and I canāt sleep.
Iām engaged!!! I have so many feelings but mostly Iām just over the moon. Iām an aunt now! I have two nieces!! I have a sister (in law) who I adore and two brothers. (I know I had these things before but this is new and exciting now and I love it.) I can finally take my ālove shitā playlist seriously because a lot of it is going to become my fucking WEDDING playlistāthat was the goal all along, and I started that sucker in 2014. There are so many things I get excited about all over again every day. More on this later.
I really fucking miss my dad and getting married is going to be hard without him.
One of my intentions for 2023 is to start journaling again. Inevitably, this will wind up here. I hate mobile tumblr though and I canāt blog at work. Maybe Iāll ⦠get up even earlier and retreat into my little nook (we live in a house weāre renting now, itās HUGE and cluttered but I kind of have the entire finished basement to myself if I want it) so I can shitpost and braindump and forget how to deal with my problems in real life because Iāll start writing them all here again? But tomorrow wonāt be the first day ā not because itās currently 3:12 (aw) but because I donāt know where my not-work laptop is at all.
What are the blue checks?? Does everyone get them? Did someone blog at AOC about them? Help me understand, I havenāt been here in months and I have FOMO.
I have bronchitis but it really should be COVID. I mean. I have tested negative 3 times since before Christmas but almost everyone we saw has tested positive since weāve seen them. How?
Iām going to be a whole ass WIFE, oh my god. Look at this thing! (My nails are better now.)
Oh man I have so much to tell you one of these days. Ok, love you bye.
So I started seeing an ADHD coach about a month ago. Sheās the second one Iāve seen in 3 months and the first who doesnāt take insurance, but I really like her.
She said Iām an overachiever today, or that I have those tendencies anyway, and sheās the second person whoās said that to me in the past week. Legitimately, Iāve never seen myself that way. Never. I feel like Iām always behind, always catching up, everyone is doing more than me. Always.
Itās an interesting experience, being in this type of coaching, because (stay with me on this) I feel like Iām paying someone a lot of money to essentially read me things Iāve already read on the internet. And thatās because I think sheās really good at her job.
In sessions, I feel amazing. Heard, understood, validated. And then I digest a little and Iām like, damn. I couldāve googled that. I have googled that. Whatās the difference now?
The difference is the immediate responses and thoughtful compassion I (we) donāt get from words on a screen written to an anonymous audience. I wish I had done this a long time ago.
Iām grateful to have a supportive presence in my life finally who sees me AND will call me out from a place of awareness. She gently preaches and encourages radical self acceptance and Iām finally listening and taking the babiest of steps. Googling it for 15 years hasnāt worked and I can admit that now. Figuring it out on my own hasnāt worked, therapy hasnāt worked (because weāve focused on all the other hard shit Iāve grappled with in the past 3 years instead) and I need something specific, and Iām ready to do something about it.
This has been a really fucking hard month because Iām facing shit Iāve been masking and things about me that Iāve gotten really good at keeping hidden from most everyone in my life. A lot of it deals with work, but not all of it. Iāve spent my entire adult life trying to fit into a neurotypical professional world and being shamed and feeling awful for it.
My best friend says Iām the best storyteller sheās ever met while Iām wishing I could be more concise and regularly qualifying what Iām about to say by starting with ābrevity isnāt my strong suitā and using ālong story longā to signal when Iām finally about to land the plane. I think, often, that it drives people nuts and the impact of the one piece of negative feedback Iāve gotten about this (when I was interviewing for the job I have now, by someone who regularly gets chastised for taking forever to get to the point) is far heavier than all the compliments Iāve gotten about it, because brains are jerks.
I donāt think Iām in the right job to truly flourish and one day I need to figure that out because I LOVE my current job a whole fucking lot. Itās more that Iām struggling keeping this Big Thing About Meā¢ļø hidden, but Iām actively choosing that. If you ask me why, Iāll tell you construction is a tough industry for āoverheadā (support) roles like mine that I can do anywhere else for probably lots more money at this point, but I still choose it because I really like being a big fish in a small pond. I really, really like that. And then Iāll say I have enough stacked against me: Iām a woman, Iām āyoungā (Iām not, but people donāt think Iām as old as I am which is not a humblebrag), I have tattoos and bleached hair and a nose ring and a fancy degree and my job is to teach crusty superintendents how to feel their feelings at work, why are the youths so sensitive these days anyway, etc., ā so in my mind, I donāt need to be known for having an attention disorder on top of everything else.
Thatās what Iāll tell you, at least. In reality, I donāt think it matters what industry Iām in because Iāve had both great and fucking terrible bosses in all of them. Iāve doubted myself in all of them at some point and I could draw up a litany of reasons why Iād want to keep this to myself in all of them, when really I want to be acknowledged for it and more than that I want to be able to relate to others, and help others from a place of āI get it, I actually doā, but I canāt do that where I am right now. I am terrified of going off on my own is the truth, but I want to, and itās just a matter of when at this point.
Today was a good session. I see her every Monday afternoon and honestly, I canāt wait to see how things are going 6 months from now.
Canāt tell me anything.
I have no idea how to do an updo, and Iāve never had my hair professionally styled before so I was experimenting. I grabbed a section of hair, twisted it, pulled the top a bunch for volume, and threw a clip in it hoping it didnāt fall. I loved it and Iāll never be able to create this look again.
Have you ever seen someone in like, head-to-toe (shoulder-to-thigh?) spanx, but without the bra part? Itās like a BYOB (bra) situation? Itās not great.
Anyway, my best friendās wedding is this Saturday in Chicago and we leave at 6am Thursday. I need 8 more days to be ready for the trip.
Itās been so long since Iāve written over here that I was excited to fill in the āListening to:ā field. Thatās ⦠never been a thing here. Livejournal. Twenty (20) years ago. Itās fine. You should listen to this song though.
I donāt care about no hoes, where is your spouse at?
Red text!
(Personally, I truly donāt care about no hoes nor spouses. In fact Iām very actively trying to become a spouse myself, for fuckās sake.)
So Iām a bridesmaid in my best friendās wedding this weekend and I love her but she did us all dirty with the color of these dresses. Itās like a smoky lavender - the kind that looks good on no one. We were able to choose our own style at least, but they are all relentless and unforgiving. I am wearing head-to-toe spanx (BYObra) and you can see like, the line of the contour? on the thigh? And itās not because I have thick legs. I mean, itās because the material of the dress is almost as though it was stuck to you, but it flows nicely in a breeze. I donāt know. Iāve also lost a bunch of weight since June (thanks, keto!) and that honestly helps me feel better about the dress. I took selfies tonight, even! Maybe Iāll post one.
This has been a hard week. Since Friday, I: organized and attended yet another suicide prevention training at work; unexpectedly found myself needing to support a dear coworker towards the end of that training class because he had been struggling with all the thoughts weād been talking about for 2 hours and needed to step outside to cry and asked if I would join him (a senior general superintendent); attended a coworkerās wedding with another coworker, got drunk for the first time in a while and lost the latter coworkerās sunglasses before raising my voice at a third coworker who was getting mouthy with me; had what would have been the worst hangover of my life Sunday if it werenāt for Amazonās party patches*; have been running around with my hair on fire at the office for both 10+ hour days Iāve had today and yesterday.
That whole thing was all about work. Iām working on that, but nowās not a good time for progress.
Seriously though, look up āparty patchesā on Amazon. Slap 2 of them on you (gonna do 3-4 for this weekendās festivities, I have to be in proper shape for Nine Inch Nails at Riot Fest on Sunday #priorities) and while they wonāt always stop a hangover from happening (I mean honestly how do you stop a speeding train, you know?), they will help you avoid an ambulance at least. Ask me how I know. Look for the blue and orange packages. Theyāre just vitamins, I donāt know what kind of witchcraft theyāre about otherwise but theyāre like $30 for I want to say 40-something patches? You really canāt put a price on magic.
(Ok hereās how I know: The last time I got that hungover, it was the morning after Matt and I got into a big argument about something stupid in public and I was crying at the table quietly but also pretty dramatically and the server had just approached with the check that I stubbornly insisted on paying. I could not pick my head up off the pillow the next morning and it took us 3 weeks to finally reach the end of the conversation because I was so embarrassed that I cried at a server as a 37-year-old woman for really the dumbest reason. Iām really fun to date. Fortunately he and I were genuinely fine those 3 weeks, we arenāt about grudges which has probably done a world of good for our 5-year run so far. But I was wearing 0 party patches that night. I currently have 2.7 packs for the bridal party and maybe the groomsmen if theyāre acting right.)
Matt is standing up in the wedding too and weāre going to walk down the aisle together. I hope at least a couple people throw shoes at him. Gently, because he is a gem, but he needs a kick in the ass and he knows it.
Hope you and yours are loving your adventures lately. š¤
Ok, I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is, today is my birthday, I spent it with my best friends, and Matt got me a Dyson Air Wrap! Hair dryers and styling tools are very exciting. Everything is great. The bad news is, this is the last year I can say Iām in my āmid-thirtiesā, my apartment lighting sucks for these filters and those arenāt my real lashes (theyāre not even lashes at all! More filter witchcraft). But all in all, today was a win.
Living here does not suck.
I repeat.
Living here does not suck.