December 4, 2021

Stoned

I am about to do something I have never done before, and that is write a blog high.

Last month (and For the first time in my life) I gave into trying edibles. Most of my life I was absolutely anti-drug. But after the shit time I’ve had I decided it was pointless to live a life that celebrated sobriety.

And tonight I decided I was going to get high again.

And since I told myself I would write something every day of December I am forcing myself to push through and write this blog. Plus it’ll be interesting to read sober.

December 2, 2021

Ornamental Memories

Christmas is such a memorable time for me in regards to my husband. I think it’s because it was around this time that we became serious and it was then that I had someone tell me, for the first time, that they were in love with me. It was also my first experience watching someone change aspects of themselves to fit my mold.

My husband has never been one for Christmas. When we started dating was no exception. For him Christmas was always a stressful time because he came from a split family. He watched his mother struggle and work to do Christmas “right.” And his father wasn’t much of one at the time. (He has drastically changed recently.) So this time of year came with more negative baggage than positive gifts.

For me… Christmas was everything. I grew up as an only child from a two parent household. So this holiday was “magical” for me, filled with shiny decorations and tons of gifts. I wanted that to be for my husband, charlie.

During our first Christmas together (and only two months dating), I somehow talked him into buying a tiny spruce tree from the garden center (when they had one) at Target. He also purchased a set of 24 miniature ornaments to dress our living decoration. I still have every single one them and I relish when I get to break them out. The tree, unfortunately, didn’t make it.

Charlie is someone who likes extravagant gifts. Ones that people wouldn’t think to or be able to buy for themselves. The first ever gift he got me for Christmas was a stereo. But when I told him I had accidentally caught a glimpse of the one my mother had gotten me he decided to gift it to his mother and bought me a GameCube instead. This was when they were first released. I felt so weird allowing him to buy these things for me. It felt like I was using him. Which is why I never took the console home. It stayed as a fixture in his apartment. That way if we happened to split, he would still have it.

Much like the ornaments, I still have the console and will probably never get rid of it.

The first gift I ever got him for Christmas was somewhat of a gag gift. It was a matchbox truck and a t-shirt with a truck on it. I was only 18 at the time, with no job and no money, that it was all I could get him. But the reason I purchased these in particular was because whenever he saw a truck he would say “buy me that truck.” I thought it was adorable and still pat myself on the back for it’s cleverness. He was not amused. But that would make sense being the person he is and how he had just bought me something that cost about 50 times as much. But that could just be me projecting because he still has keep the matchbox truck.

December 2, 2021

Midnight Memories

So to set the scene I recommend listening to “Blinding Lights” by Loi. It’s probably the best version of the song and the tone of it completely encapsulates the memory I’m going to share.

The first thing my husband ever said to me was through an instant message on AOL. He let me know that he and Diego were still together and not knowing who he was (and being the annoying teenager I was) I continued on the conversation as if I knew him and what he was talking about. I finally dropped my charade and asked him who he was and it was then that I added him to my buddy list, cchuck77383. From then on I would message him whenever he came online because I just knew things with him and Diego were on the way out.

This all happened at the very end of September 2003 after an abrupt break-up with my third boyfriend. (Who has since passed of stage 4 cancer.)

I was taken by him (my husband) because he happened to share that my ex wanted him, but my husband was not even remotely interested. This made cchuck77383 immediately attractive to me.

I wasn’t a good person then and I know that now… but regardless of what got me to meet with this man doesn’t matter now. I am still here.

After things with Diego fizzled out he agreed to meet me one late night at a Denny’s.

I put on “sleeping beauty” in my bedroom, snuck out my window, and drove across town to meet this stranger I had only ever spoke with online.

He didn’t tell me what he drove, but I knew he had arrived the moment his white mustang drove past me. For the next hour or so we sat in a booth talking, while I watched him nervously spin his silver Motorola flip phone, twitch his nose, and run his index knuckle up his phantom mustache.

For whatever reason he liked me and invited me over to his apartment downtown to watch a movie.

The first thing we ever watched together was Philadelphia. Which, if you don’t know, is the story about a man dying of AIDS. He swears now he had never seen it, but I remember him telling me it was a good one to watch. However he had also just started collecting DVDs at the time and it is highly likely that he hadn’t. I tend to rely to heavily on my own memory. And I am (at times) wrong.

That early morning, when the movie had ended, he walked me to my car and kissed me, wishing me good night. I drove away thinking I would never see him again, feeling satisfied that I got to make-out with the guy my ex wanted but couldn’t have.

Little did I know that this dude would then call me every subsequent day and talk my ear off. There isn’t a day since that he hasn’t. It kills me most to know that his disease will eventually take that from me. I have spoken with him at length ever since then and to think I will have to face a day where I don’t just cuts my gut.

November 19, 2021

Leveling Out

It’s been a little over a week since I started taking Lexapro again. For the most part it has been relatively uneventful. Some mild side-effects here and there, but nothing too serious that I need to stop. There was a brief moment, when I went to visit my mother, where I genuinely had the thought of just ending all of it.

I walk in to see my mother sitting on the side of her bed. Her blue eyes are ruminating over a pair of fuzzy socks (that aren’t hers) with a print of red hearts. She looks up at me and her eyes light up for a second when she realizes it’s me.

“I was just getting ready to go to you house,” she tells me, even though she could not have had any inkling that I was coming.

“Oh yeah?” I reply, with a sappy sweet tone reserved for children and the elderly.

Her expression darkens and she says, “I don’t want to be here. I want to leave.”

That’s when I feel my emotions plunge into a dark, deep, and cool pool of water. I just couldn’t handle life anymore. I wanted this to be done.

Doing the responsible thing I immediately told both my husband and my boyfriend of my feelings. Maybe then there was some accountability and they could keep an eye on me. Although, I will say, I don’t think I could ever do it when someone was home.

After that visit with my mom, I finally understood why most often people drop their family members into a home and never visit. It’s because they don’t want to have to relive the trauma of having to say, “No, you can’t go home.” It happens every visit.

I got a little concerned with my immediate wave of depression at my visit… but when I sat down and unpacked it I knew that it wasn’t a real desire. It was momentary. A passing thought due to the overwhelming nature of my mother. My husband told me to message the doctor immediately about my thoughts (while taking the meds) but I didn’t. I don’t want to be a bother. And most likely, it was just the meds trying to balance out. Everything will be fine.

I have been feeling better today. Hopefully the medication is working and I can find a little bit of peace in all of this.