Another Tuesday

And just like that, I’m 40. It’s official. Despite all the other times throughout this past year where I kept thinking “I’m 40” when in fact I was not. I don’t quite understand it. It was almost as though I was excited about hitting a new decade, like a kid at Christmas time. Which is quite the 180 from when I turned 30. At that time I thought I was above the stereotypical “I’m dead” mentality. Plot twist, I was in fact not. I was just ignoring that sense of doom like I do with any and all of my emotions.

If looking back on 22 years with my husband has taught me anything it is that I do not recognize my own feelings. I don’t know if that was a conscious choice on my part or of it was a learned behavior. Regardless of the reason, one simple fact remains: I don’t know how I feel as I’m feeling it. It’s not until I am alone with my thoughts that I finally have found enough peace for them to come roaring to the forefront. Then I breakdown. Well, most of the time. Ninety percent of the time I do something entirely different.

My go to behavior whenever I’m feeling emotions is that I cover them with something: food, sex, buying crap. There are no ends to what I will do to avoid “being human.” And that is what has gotten me in trouble over these last few years. I did all of these self destructive behaviors in an effort to suppress whatever I did not want to face. Evidently it was a lot.

As an adult I am slowly unpacking my feelings. I can finally recognize when I am upset or bothered by something. I may not know what it is yet, but I will try and figure it out. Sometimes I do, and other times it’s a complete and utter fucking mystery. Those are the times that make me angry, and that I feel with un-tethered abandon.

So, today I will do nothing. I will celebrate nothing. There is no point when the family you had known up until now is gone. I just want this day to pass as if it never happened. It was just a regular Tuesday. It just so happens that I have been present for 40 of them.

Peace Out

Today has been fucking weird and I’m only halfway through.

People on Bsky are on one. However, as a result, it finally gave me the push I needed to ditch that bullshit too.

I’ve already deleted twitter and facebook, and while I haven’t deleted Bsky I did delete the app from my phone. Maybe one day I’ll return, but at this point I genuinely I doubt that. It doesn’t come close to Twitter’s former glory. I loved that app so much, but of course some rich asshole moved in and made it terrible. As most rich douche bags love to do.

The unannounced Bsky topic dujour apparently was all about Dem in-fighting. I made the mistake of commenting on an article that discussed Dem politicians getting upset that their constituents are pissed at their lack of response to… anything. At one point I had someone call me a misogynist because I said “honey,” uneducated (I graduated Summa Cum Laude), and a do-nothing leftist. As a result I am out. I don’t have the energy or time to explain myself to “nobodies” on the internet.

With our carefully curated echo chambers we have isolated ourselves so much that all we can do now is point blame at everyone else in our own circles. (I am absolutely including myself into that.)

This is what the opposition wants. They want us at each other throats. Being distracted by this nonsense, it is easier to break us into even smaller groups. Once firmly trapped in our little social media bubble, we’re too distracted to formulate into a coalition to actually do something.

I’m exhausted and I have no interest in participating with this bullshit anymore. The world around me is burning and I have no immediate power or way to put it out. I find myself at the crossroads where I can find my own joy (when and where I can) or I can make myself miserable. I’ve been miserable the last 5 fucking years of my life. I’m done.

The only part that genuinely upsets me of my social media exodus is that I am finally doing the one thing my husband had wished I had done while he was alive. That causes me a lot of guilt. So, I will just have to tell myself that, even though he isn’t here to say it, he would still want this and is proud of me.

This past Saturday marked one year since Charlie passed away. I finally got the chance to read the letter he had written for me. Of everything there the only thing that was new, or stood out, was when he used my nickname for him as the salutation. That was where I broke down.

Everything else in it were sentiments he and I had spoken to each other over the many years together. The one thing that made our broken relationship work was that we were never afraid to wade into difficult topics. We never shied away from the truth.

It is nice to have them in writing though. Sometimes my mind likes to lie to me and say that he never forgave me. Which, in itself is silly. We spent 20 years together. Someone who hasn’t forgiven you typically doesn’t dedicate even more time.

The day of, I spent with the family. We went to the zoo and just talked about him and his unforgettable personality. He really was one of a kind. I could really use his knowledge and point of view now. He knew what I needed to hear, when I needed it most. And if that didn’t work, he would always intervene.

This past year has been nothing but loss. Shortly after the husband passed, we lost our dog Jack. Then this week we put down our pup Lucy. She had cancer in her nasal cavity. It had gotten to the point that she couldn’t breathe through her nose. Fun fact… dog’s can’t breathe through their mouths when they sleep. At least, she couldn’t.

Then this morning, thinking of my aunt, I sent her a message to ask about her and her kids. The text went acid green, instead of blue. More than likely, she probably blocked me. Which… whatever. She might as well be someone else I’ve lost too.

Unburdened by the past leaves even more possibilities for the future.

Universes Collide

One of the things my husband (Charlie) was right about is that I never really think things through. I have a hard time placing myself into hypothetical scenarios unless I have been there before. That is, unless they’re the “camp” kind, if you get my drift. Even then I’m always way off base in one direction or the other.

The last year it has been unspoken knowledge that “after a year of Charlie being gone” the BF (Josh) would move into the house. All during this time I was completely unphased. My primary focus has been “once this is done I can relax” or “I can stop living ‘split’ lives.” So far, it has remained the same, however with today being THE DAY I am beginning to panic.

The only other person I have ever lived with, besides my husband, was my brother (Tony.) (And parents of course, but I ‘moved in with them’ so they had to make the adjustments.) I keep trying to think about why Tony moving in with Charlie and I never stuck out to me. It could be that when he “moved in” was shortly after my husband was diagnosed. At the time I was more distracted by the fact that he was dying to put focus on other little things that bothered me. On top of that, we were moving from one house to another because the one we had previously occupied would have in NO WAY accommodated his impending wheel chair. So as Tony moved in we were also moving in to an entirely new place.

All-in-all Tony came in with no issues. Well… that’s not completely true. I was bothered by his furniture pieces decorating our new house. I didn’t like them, at the time, because I’m a snob. I blame my husband. He was too. (We really were made for each other.)

The BF moving in is an entirely new experience for me. In the past it was me moving in with my husband from my parents’ house. I never had someone entering my space before. There was no “established” living conditions to throw into disarray with a new entity.

In my “panic” I have discovered some really odd quirks I previously had not invested my focus. For instance, my really overbearing “smell” issues.

I have a thing about odd smells. I will hunt them down like a blood hound (which my husband accused me of multiple times because how I would literally sniff them out) until they are found and eradicated. So having an entirely new human moving in with their own natural scents is really fueling my panic. Not only does he have his own natural aroma, his clothes have one, and then his cats. I love his babies as if they were mine (I mean… they are) but I will not abide my house smelling like a cat. I will do whatever it takes to make sure it does not stink. For whatever reason, I have deemed the stereotypical “cat smell” to be “low class” and “repulsive.”

On top of that… yesterday when I was helping box his stuff up, I used his clothes to act as cushions for the breakable possessions. That’s when I got a whiff of them. That night I asked him, insulting him in the process, if he would mind if we wash all of his clothes when he gets here. I also said I would help with the effort because I understood it was a bizarre and an overwhelming task. (Like I said… I have a thing about scents.)

Underneath all that, since I’m sure this is “masking” my insecurity of the whole episode, I am upset about the shift in dynamics. It was exacerbated by my brother when I got home and he was crying. He had spent the whole day moving his stuff out of the master into his room. Like me, he doesn’t like change and I feel guilty by causing him this discomfort. (Jesus, I am easily manipulated. I hate it.) It is a lot.

I keep thinking of things to do for my brother to make it easier for him or lessen the stress of all of this. Completely ignoring the fact that this is also a huge change for my BF too. He is literally condensing his entire life into mine. That takes an enormous amount of trust in me and our relationship to do. And I am scared that I will fuck it up with my eccentricities.

This morning, before I went to work, I warned Josh that I am going to be weird about the “smells” thing and to not take it personally. I am just weird. There is no other way to explain it. It’s me. I’m the drama. I know that for me to find a balance I have to be the captain of this “crazy ship.” The responsibility to seek solutions and put no further stress on everyone else rests entirely on me.