53 Days

Life is pretty different. I lost my words after Melissa died. They slowly dried up and I’m sad about that. So many things left with her and I am always mourning old things I’ve lost of myself.

I’ve been shut in now for 53 days. Actually 54, but it’s dark thirty and I just haven’t scratched today’s mark. I think I have been out maybe 7 times since March 03, 2020. I started staying home 5 days prior to the official call of Covid-19 becoming a pandemic. I stopped my side gig work on Feb 29, 2020, because I didn’t like elevators and apartment buildings for delivery. My full time job called it on March 8th, when is was federally recognized and we were all but a few, placed into a shared work unemployment program. It means we were sent home for lack of work, but not released. Our insurance would remain in effect, we didn’t have to search for new jobs on any unemployment forms, and we file weekly unemployment claims, until we are slowly called back in. We lost 90% of our business in a few short days. We were a recognized and still rapidly growing, woman owned catering company. Many of our clients are tied to big name tech companies in the Greater Seattle Area. We were set to move into a new building, as we slowly outgrew our original single space in a strip style business park, after taking over 8 different spaces. With no other neighbors leaving, after getting fed up with all our work vans, personal vehicles, and people, we had no where left to expand. Our move was to begin March 01, 2020 and finish the first week. We had started, but it was ongoing as the pandemic was called and the few people out of about 500 who were left, moved everything.

Meanwhile, I’m at home, thinking,”I’m all introverted now…I got this.”, and for the most part, I do. I miss my mom. I miss my sister. I miss my friend I do side summer work with and play in his yard, learning so much about planting and maintaining a nice English style garden.

I keep weird hours now. I was so used to getting up at 1:30 AM, four days a week and working ten hour days. I’ve kept that schedule for 3 years now and been OK with it, as long as the kids upstairs aren’t being kids till 9 PM. I’ve gone from barely making it, working my ass off, to always be a little behind, to being OK. I’m rested in a way I haven’t been in years, but I am also exhausted from the panic and fear. The beginning of panic and fear was the worst.

At the start of it, it was intense and everything and every person I came in contact with, caused fear in me. I knew my health issues and age would heighten my chances of getting a more severe case, were I to become infected. So everything, caused fear. I began harping at work for masks. Being catering, gloves were plentiful. Once I spent a few days in panic mode, I was able to plan. I was ahead of the curve and managed to get some dry goods and non perishable stuff. I was able to get hand sanitizer, which I still have 2/3 of. I rely mostly on soap and water since it’s more effective and less harmful to bacteria I need. I was able to get my unemployment claim started, that would pay rent and leave me $125.00 for everything else. I called a different state agency and was able to get SNAP food assistance. I was able to talk to my landlords and let them know my status and suspected schedules at staying up on my rent. I was able to get my car insurance to continue billing me, but stop asking for money till my unenjoyment claim was deposited, same with my TV. Luckily for me, all utilities, including basic cable, internet and laundry are included in my rent. My bills are manageable, but I lost my cell phone in the grey area between normal and pandemic. Luckily, I have a work issued phone and hopefully will be able to get it all set up before I have to return it.

My days are long and monotonous. Groundhog day every day with a different TV line-up. I’ve had 53 days to drift in and out of my own head. 53 days to see my life play out before my eyes. 53 days to examine lots of ghosts in the closet. Things I’ve not delved deeply into for years, because I haven’t really allowed myself to seriously dig. It’s hard to dig childhood traumas, without a really good trigger. It arrived.

We are solving a family mystery. One we never thought we would have the answer to. My sister started digging and knew a few people who have been in a position to help with information. So far, my sister and I are the only ones who know, and we are unable to share any of it right now because it is going to impact our mother. It’s going to disrupt her life and I’m not sure how well it will play out, even though she will finally have answers, there appears to probably remain some questions. In other words, none of this is e-mail, text, phone call type news. We need to be with her and we need to see her.

This news has caused my younger sister and I to have some heavy conversations about our lives and the status of our family. We have talked about things in a way we have never talked about and traded information that has been hard to trade and digest. It has caused us to speak, listen and hear each other in ways we have never done. I’ve been heard and understood in ways I’ve deserved to be heard, as well as understood. I have also seen my sister in new ways and have a new found respect for the little ditz.

I continue to miss Mel. I miss the kids super bad too. I’ve not heard from her oldest since before the pandemic began and since he works for UPS, I’ve been worried sick about him.

I think about Mel and her untimely exit. How maybe some of us just weren’t meant to live through this bullshit. How she was lucky to not see the world as it is today. In 30 years, we have changed so much. She wouldn’t recognize the difference that 5 years and three months has made. I’m grateful in one way, she is not living through this. But the other part of me is wishing that for her kids and my selfish ass, she was still here and in fact I wish we were living through this together, even if from different states.

I don’t know what it’s going to be like when it’s time to go back out. I don’t want to go back out too soon, because I am high risk. More so due to the fact I get bronchitis. So far, they aren’t too worried about my Auto Immune diseases, because I am not on biologics. I worry though anyway, because of white blood counts. It’s s o different now, that I received a knock on my door three days ago and panicked, because I wasn’t expecting anyone and I wasn’t wanting to open the door to a virus.

What has happened to my world (our world) in 53 days, is traumatizing. A month ago I saw two co-workers, while grocery shopping in an over-crowded store. We recognized each other through masks, but couldn’t stop and couldn’t Spanglish with one another at the time. I cried outside the store. I went to work the other day to pick up a 2 meal care package and bottle of wine. Saw the new building, saw the owner of the company and a few co-workers from a distance. It was emotional. I cried out in  my car.

I get emotional a lot. Commercials and sappy TV make me cry. Anything that ties back to my current family mystery, makes me cry. Life is full of tears right now. And I can’t explain what some of the tears are for. They just are. Life is so different. The future though always “unknown” is unknown in a different way. Do we hope? Do we leave Covid-19 with a different set of values? We need to. I don’t want to return to the way we were.

Will I ever post again? I don’t know. I could be sick right now from my last trip out for essentials and not even know it. That’s how uncertain the future is. Will I ever get to share my mystery? I don’t know. I hope I do. But I can’t risk anyone accident;y reading anything online before I get a change to meet with my family.

When they say we can go back out? Will we (I) be able to walk outside and interact with people again without severe anxiety? I have had panic attacks prior to store runs and immediately after them. I’d do all my shopping online if the system was set up for EBT, but they aren’t right now.

If a vaccine is found, will those of us who are still here have a giant collective case of survivors guilt aside from you asshats, protesting Stay at Home orders?

Till next time…

New Clothes

I changed the theme. I think it’s a push for me to start writing again.

I’m also going to write really honestly.

Here are some truths.

I miss The Girl. I am pretty sure she knows this. I’ve never stopped loving her, though I fear her intensely because at one time, she had the power, and used it to try and hurt me. It worked. I’d love to have a relationship with her, but I also fear it. Trust and all.

I am moving on in life after so many losses, but in all honesty if I die today, I am pretty OK with that. I don’t think I am courting death, but maybe I am. I’m not going to the doctor and I have some pretty serious things going on with my body. Do I ignore it longer and go till I drop, or do I go to the doctor?

I’m not really into more of the same. I have kind of had enough of the loss.

I am probably more closed off than ever, because to let anyone in that close would mean to trust, and I am very, very, very careful about who I hand actual trust to.

On the other side, I know the things I have experienced, seen and felt, to be true. It’s just that life hit me so hard I fell off the path. I’ve not gone back to that same hateful person, but there is this wall of protection around me and when you live like that, you aren’t really living at all. You’re sitting around, waiting for it to be done. My life has felt like the last act, of a bad play, that will not fucking end.

But still I am waiting. I don’t know for what, but I am waiting.

I’m thinking I know what I personally need to do, but I have procrastinated because to jump back into it means work and I know that with so much hidden emotion and denied feeling, it’s going to be heavy. It can’t be any heavier than keeping all this shit inside me, can it?

There are things I am totally happy about also.

I love my little apartment. I love that the things I do in my life, are mine. I do them when I want and no one criticizes me, tells me I am wrong, disapproves, or hits me.

I love my few friends I have kept. These are the people I trust and am comfortable with.

Yesterday, I read something I wrote a few moths before the stroke. How odd. As things were getting better and I was happy because of Mr. Yummy, my move, my job, my soaring spiritual awakening, there was a point I admitted I feared what was coming. In all honesty I seriously thought The Girl was about to make an appearance and I wasn’t sure I could do it. That would have been so much easier than losing Mel, Mr. Yummy and Arie. All within a short time span. Back to back. It felt so cruel. it made me ask if I was a good person? I sort of began to doubt my value. I forgot I am what I am and deserve what I deserve, as do you.

With Love,

IWentCrazy

Silence

It’s not always bad when I go quiet. Sometimes, I am off having the time of my life.

That is not the case as of late. It’s been a pretty bad couple of months. After the memorial, I just went dark and deep. I have been, and remain very depressed and slightly suicidal. Being slightly suicidal is like being a little pregnant.

I’ve had some pretty dark moments. I now know what cold metal tastes like. I couldn’t do that to Mr. Y. He would hate me forever if he walked into his house and found me like that.

I know. I’m pretty fucked up.

I wonder where did I go? That woman who was so tied to the Universe and creation? Where is she and how do I connect with her again?

I want to talk to my emotional twin. I miss her. I miss feeling her. I miss laughing with her. I miss looking beyond our differences.

This is all for now.

I Lived to See…

Dear Mel,

I never thought I would live to see certain things.

I never thought I would live to see a black president. We both saw that.

I never thought I would see marijuana legal. We both lived to see it legal in MY state, it has yet to go nationwide, but we saw the start, together.

I never thought I would live to see the day when gay and lesbian couples could marry. I lived to see it. You did not. And you didn’t live to see us finish the fight for transgender folks. You knew that for me, the fight wouldn’t be over with just partial equality, right? I have a partner in that fight. You know her, in fact you molded her and her sense of fairness is a direct reflection of you. How I love you both.

I miss you, but I am starting to smile and laugh more and more my love. I DID talk to you this morning about something. I said it out loud out on the porch, because I can’t say it here. I hope you heard me, in the vast state of everything you are now. I think of how, if your energy returned to our source, that now instead of being petite and tiny, you are huge and massive now. You’re part of everything, from the tiniest particle to the largest part of Universe. So I assume you heard me in one way or another, and you will do what you can.

Mr. Yummy came home last night and he’s gone again today. He literally came home in time to go to bed, but somehow, we managed to have fun regardless. He’s gone back to The Island today to continue working on the food truck he went to Texas to get right after you died, for his daughters business. She gave a guy 30 grand to do the electrical. Guess who is out fixing his work now?

I’m getting used to the fact that he’s gone a lot in the summer and I’ll get most of my best snuggles come the fall and winter. I also am feeling more comfortable with the whole touching thing again. It was the night before he took off to start work on the daughter’s truck, only I didn’t know he was leaving the next day. I was laying there having anxiety wanting to reach out and just hold his hand as I fell asleep and having total anxiety over it, so I told him as much. He sighed and told me I worry too much. Then he reached out and grabbed my hand. I would have been happy just holding hands, but when his hands wandered, all bets were off. We are so good there. Always have been. I just hope we catch up to being as good in other areas. Surprisingly, I’m doing well with my own insecurities and facing them down.

Still I miss you. Friday after the SCOTUS handed down their decision I was at work thinking, “I can’t believe you didn’t live to see this…or menopause, but mainly THIS. I started to get weepy. Carrie, the production manager came in and said the company wants to take a #LoveWins photo for instagram. It made me cry when she told me just because of the timing of wishing I could share the Historical moment with you. I explained, she gave me a hug and if you look close in the picture, you can see the tissue still in my hand. I am SO proud to work for the company I work for. I give you…my work tribe.

Breaking Ice

Dear Mel,

This is one of those days where I have so much to tell you.

My three times step brother was just here. He came up from LA and is looking for property here. I wasn’t going to ask if he could stay here, but then when he sat at the table looking for hotels, I grew a pair and asked if he can stay. He of course, said yes.

He stayed Wednesday through this morning, Saturday. I took Friday off, took him to meet my little sister, since last he saw her, she was in diapers. He gave me a good self check Friday night, and I was stunned when I left him here and went to the store for 15 minutes, he got Mr. Yummy to say that he knows I love him. He also learned the things I know, He’s into a simple life, living to be happy, no drama, and he has people (family) he loves and are important (his riding buddies) to him.

I wasn’t surprised he found out that stuff, but I about fell over when he said, “He knows you love him.” I asked, “How do you know?” he replied that Mr. Yummy told him. I just sat there thinking, “I was only gone fifteen freaking minutes!” I didn’t ask what else was said. I didn’t dig, or push.

I slept in his bed Wednesday night. I stayed far on my side to the edge. I awoke mid way through the night and he was really close to me and we were holding hands. It scared me so I pulled away and said I was sorry as I rolled over. Thursday I went to bed first and slept all night, I felt him almost spoon me once.

Here it is two days later. I had to stop writing, because I felt overwhelmed.

Lots has changed inside of me, though looking at my actual life, not much really has changed. It’s just me that is changing.

Not too long ago I expressed what it would be like to want to call you because I had happy news, and not just sad fucking bull-shit. Today, Monday the 8th of June (See that irony? The 8th. That means you died 6 months ago today) is the first day I wanted to call you with GOOD news. I got my review today, and got a small raise. Not a big one, but we are a small company so I am OK with small ($1.00 an hour).

I couldn’t call you, so I called Mini Me.

Gawd, I want her home.

My brother being here, seemed to break the ice at home. Maybe it did nothing. Maybe it just helped push a change in me. Whatever the reason, I am grateful. I desperately need to take my life, and control of it, back from the land your death took it too. I’m not really feeling too guilty about this, because I know, my dearest friend…that my living, must go on. Otherwise? What’s the fucking purpose? I truly believe that I am a spiritual being, having a human experience. You taught me, the ultimate, in human loss of someone unconditionally loved, on both sides. I wish to fucking God that ANYONE but you (how’s that for throwing other friends under the bus?) had taught me that. I do realize though, that only YOU could teach me this, because of who you are/were/have been/always will be to me. Still, I hate it and look forward to the day my energy comes to you, because it will.

So I got my snuggle on Friday night. It was nice. And frightening. Though nice. I got my review today and a raise. That was nice. Realizing today is 6 months was still a breath-catcher. I’m never going to be the same, but I will adjust to this new normal in my life. I have to.

I will always be there for the kids. Even if I can’t financially care for them like I wish I could. I will always have room and time for them and I will love them like they are my kids, because they have always been kinda my kids, because of you.

I miss you MORE, not less as time goes by, but I’m coping and I am learning once again, how fucking strong I am.

I love you always.

Sick n Sin,

CDS