I recently came across a selfie from about 15 years ago — same hairstyle, same vibe as a selfie I took this summer. Around the same time, I heard the phrase “this is who I am now.” And it got me thinking – who the fuck am I now? Turns out, I’m a lot of things…..
I am punk rock.
I do things my way, but humbly, without arrogance. I try not to judge, I try to approach difficult situations with loving kindness, and I revel in finding calm amidst chaos.
I am a wife.
I married the single coolest and most loving human being I’ve ever met, and we’ve been together for 8 years now. Through thick & thin. We’ve literally jumped through hell for each other.
I am a mom.
Of 2 beautiful, unique, intelligent, loving, creative, independent as hell little girls. They love climbing rocks, foraging for snacks in the yard, and catching toads all while wearing princess dresses & sparkly pink nail polish.
I am a homeschooler.
I love being able to cuddle my kids while helping them learn. I love figuring out their unique nuances, and interests, and seeing where these things take us on a daily basis. And I love creating space for adventures in our everyday life, to show them there’s always lessons to learn wherever you’re willing to look.
I am a creator.
A writer, a crocheter, a digital designer. A “Jill of many trades”. I just wish I could find time to make money off this shit lol!
I am the household manager.
I handle meal planning, groceries, budgeting, bills, cleaning, travel plans, party plans…just about everything.
I am a “chaos witch”.
I mostly practice hearthcraft, and protection & healing magick. My practice is…very much on the back burner to everything else in my life, but I do sneak in little bits of magick here & there.
I was a reseller for a few years.
I enjoyed the whole process, and I enjoyed providing fun things to people who got excited over the often silly things I’d offered. I just didn’t have the time or space to let it grow, and that’s fine.
I was a student a couple times.
I’ve studied psychology, neurology, business, and education. I even tutored psychology one semester (and my student did awesome!), and I was a “peer advisor” a couple times! Never followed through for a degree though, and that’s fine.
I was a patient care assistant in an emergency department for a bit.
I loved the autonomy, the diversity of situations, and the sheer volume of unique patient interactions. And the patients & visitors loved me…because I’m patient, smart, & I genuinely give a fuck. I just couldn’t stand 96% of my coworkers, and that’s fine.
I’ve been a caregiver for most of my life.
For grandparents, parents, friends, and loved ones; throughout illnesses, injuries, and psychological chaos. It’s part of how I was raised, and part of just who the fuck I am.
So that’s me — messy, evolving, and unapologetically real.
Now it’s your turn: Who the fuck are you today? Drop a comment or share this post with someone finding themselves again.
If my words made you smile, nod, or roll your eyes in recognition — hit “like,” share it, or subscribe for more real talk on life, growth, and chaos.
Keep it raw, keep it real. And rock the fuck on. 🤘💚
Everyone has a story worth telling. Even if you think yours is boring, messy, or not original – it is yours, and that makes it powerful.
The world’s drowning in noise, but human honesty still cuts through like feedback at a punk show – AI can’t create real emotion or lived experience, try as it might.
Nothing Is New — But You Are
Literally everything that can be said & done, has been. Nothing’s truly “original” anymore. And that’s ok!
What is unique is your lens — your collection of scars, triumphs, and weird little details. Nobody has ever experienced all the details put together that make up your story, which is a beautiful thing.
And every time you share one of your many truths, someone else out in the world feels a little less alone.
The Healing Power of Sharing
On my second day working the floor as a patient care assistant in an ER, I came across a patient who had ALS & his wife. He was nearing the end, and my job for the moment was to hold his hand & try to keep him calm while he was intubated. It was heartbreaking, knowing a little bit about what he’d been though, & was about to go through, and the same for his wife, because of my own experiences in a caregiver’s role with the disease.
His wife was devastated; she knew what was coming in the days ahead. So, I sat beside her and talked – I introduced myself, mentioned a little bit about my family history with ALS & the caregiver role I’d found myself in, and offered a friendly soul to help her with whatever she needed while in my department (”a warm blanket? Coffee? A hug? I’m not far; I’ve got you!”)
I was asked to help escort him to the ICU when he was deemed stable enough for transport. At the entrance, I was told I could go back to the ER & his wife was told to stay at the door until he was successfully transferred. Overwhelming grief consumed her, and understandably so. So I held her while she cried, gave her a compassionate little pep talk based on what I’d gone through, and stayed until she was invited in with her husband.
Point is, telling your stories can heal you and someone else. That day I saw that stories aren’t just meant to be told — they’re meant to be handed off like torches, sharing some light in moments of darkness.
Finding Your People
The ones who don’t get it will judge — they always have, always will. But honesty attracts the right people, the ones who’ve been waiting for someone like you to speak up.
“Your people” aren’t found through perfection — they’re found through realness. And the more you share your stories, the more your people will find you.
Boundaries and Bravery
All that said, here’s a quick note on discernment — not everything needs to be public, and oversharing can sometimes hurt more than help. It’s always best practice to keep your private information away from the internet altogether as much as possible, and you should never say anything that would hurt yourself or anyone else in any way. Of course, there are exceptions to these “rules”. Thus, discernment.
But don’t let the simple fear of judgment silence you. Everything you say could go either way — and that’s okay.
Bravery isn’t about ignoring fear; it’s about telling the truth anyway. If someone doesn’t like it & decides to troll? – FUCK ‘EM! They’re not you, and oftentimes those who lash out do so out of fear or the inability to understand. And that’s fine – you do you.
The Punk Rock of Humanity & Humility
In a world that’s increasingly artificial (AI, social media perfection, etc.), your realness is your rebellion.
Every time you tell your story honestly, you’re flipping off the illusion of perfection. (And all perfection is illusion!)
Celebrate your chaos, your cringe, your truth by sharing it with the world — it’s what makes you irreplaceable.
Write it, paint it, sing it, whisper it into the void. Someone out there needs to hear it — maybe even you.
If this spoke to you, share it with someone who’s been holding their story back – The world needs more real voices!
And if you want more unapologetic inspiration like this, hit “like,” subscribe, and keep telling your truth.
I know I’ve vaguely mentioned some family chaos that’s occurred over the past few years – It settled down a bit earlier this year, & burnout from the whole situation set in for me.
I’m still burned out. And the chaos has reignited, in (not so) fun new ways.
So, what to do?!?
Focus on self care while plowing through the chaos- that’s all I can do.
Why Self Care Is Non-Negotiable
When you’re dealing with a bunch of shit in life, burnout is inevitable. You can push through all you want, but eventually you’re going to crash & burn.
It might not stop burnout, but it cushions the crash. In my experience, at least. (And I have more than my share of experience in this department, unfortunately.)
Of course, in the midst of true chaos, you probably don’t want to do anything. We all tend toward distraction in the forms of media or comfort foods, or whatever your unhelpful coping mechanism of choice may be.
That’s precisely when you need to shift your focus to self care – Make it just as much of a priority as the bullshit you’re dealing with. You need to maintain focus on your responsibilities, of course, but you also need to focus on your responsibilities to yourself.
Doing so will probably help with whatever emotional fuel is ruminating and adding to the dumpster fire of stress in your head.
When to Practice (Even When You’re Burned Out)
This depends on your situation, of course.
Mornings or evenings (or, ideally, both) seem to work for most people – Whenever you can find some peace to focus on your own wellbeing, if even just for short periods of time.
Figure out what times work best for you, and make an appointment with yourself – if not daily, as often as realistically possible. Even a weekly Do Nothing Day can go a long way!
What Self Care Can Look Like
It depends on you – what would fill your proverbial cup?
A pretty popular method recently has been the idea of a “dopamine menu”, where you list activities you can enjoy for various periods of time (5 minute “appetizers”, hour long “main dishes”, etc). Then when you find yourself with some free time, you choose something off your “menu” instead of doom scrolling or binging TV.
I don’t find myself with very much free time, to be honest.
But I do take time daily to focus on the core necessities of wellness : body, mind, heart, & soul.
Body : intentional physical movement
Mind : reading, learning, creating
Heart : socializing (if even just a quick text to someone I haven’t heard from in a while)
Soul : meditation, spending time outside
And this is where the Excitement Map also comes in handy – If you’re having trouble deciding which activities would soothe your soul in each of those categories, you may find some inspiration from yourself in the map (or “fuck yeah list”, whatever you’d like to call it. 😊)
When You Just Can’t Even
Some days, you’re not gonna meditate or stretch or write affirmations — you’re just trying to exist. And that’s fine. You’re not lazy; you’re overloaded. On those “ugh” days, just show yourself some grace and lower the bar. Drink some water. Get outside and take a few breaths of fresh air. Blast a song that reminds you you’re still alive. Do one tiny thing that says, “I’m still trying.” That’s enough.
I’d love to hear what your go-to self care habits are when life gets messy. Drop them in the comments — I’m sure we could all use some ideas!
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“Where I’m at” posts are just random updates about what’s going on, based on the areas / roles in my life.
planner : Trying not to plan too much this month lol! I do need to figure out what we’re doing for Turkey Day though – not sure if my step daughter wants to come over or if she wants us to go over there…or if she wants us to piss off for that matter LOL. I always do ham, sausage stuffing, green bean casserole, & homemade mashed potatoes with homemade gravy…that’s all I care about 😜 (well, she does the casserole, & certainly better than I ever could! hehe)
self (body & mind, emotion & education) : Ugh. Struggling a bit – “Chaos” has returned, & I’m certainly not recovered from the last round of it. Weight loss has slowed a bit because it’s hearty meal season and we’ve been too busy for me to stick to my exercise routine as strictly as I’ve been – I’ll figure it out though. When all else fails, prioritize self care! Oh, and we’ve all caught a cold. Shocker. 🤪
marriage : This is the “chaos”; nobody’s fault though, just a bit of a struggle. We’re working on figuring it out.
mom (BooBoo & Bubby) : The girls are doing well! Except Bubby threw Booboo’s tablet at her the other night & cut a little gash in her forehead (for someone who worked in an ER, I have an extremely low tolerance for blood…especially if it’s seeping from one of my precious little spawn LOL) – It bled quite a little bit, but it wasn’t anything that would require stitches. Bubby still feels really bad & has been catering to Booboo’s every whim LOL
homeschool teacher (1st grade & PK) : School’s going well. Booboo’s progressing on pace; she gets super frustrated sometimes, but she understands everything just fine. She’s just…me, LOL. I’ve still gotta figure out how to fit in Playing Preschool year 2 for Bubby, especially since we’re nearing the end of Easy Peasy PreK, & she’s still a little “behind”. Which is fine! She actually understands Booboo’s level of math quite a bit, which is impressive!! 😊
zenBLITZ : Hopefully I can get my head straight enough to write up some good posts soon! And work on my novella! The past month though, I crocheted a Barbie blanket for a practice project, & started a massive baby blanket for my step granddaughter hehehe ❤️
watching – Game shows. I love me some 1% Club & The Floor hehe
reading – The Last Time They Met by Anita Shreve. Have I mentioned this yet? It was on the library “discard” shelf, & it sounded kind of interesting, so I thought I’d save it from the recycling bin. I’ve enjoyed it so far (I’m only about 1/4 the way through), though it is a bit slow & dry…LOL.
playing – Nothing, really. Though I ordered the original Tomb Raider for hubby, & it should be coming today. So maybe I’ll be playing that a little bit. I’d probably rather play Fable though heh
buying – Xmas gifts. And bday gifts for hubby & Bubby. Never too early to stock up!
However, I did fail to mention in my intro post that the chapter titles are going to be referencing song titles for various reasons. You’ll see!
Without further ado…
Image created with Gemini
Chapter 1 : 2007 > 2009 : Bad Reputation
I’ve never been very good at making friends. I was an only child growing up, and I was always a little “weird”, so that doesn’t help.
That’s probably why I liked gas station jobs so much. Nobody expects depth from you there — just a transaction, a smile, maybe a joke if the moment feels right. You meet everyone: the kids with loose change and sticky fingers, the wealthy guy in a suit barking into his phone, the quiet woman who only buys scratch-offs, the old man who needs company as much as cigarettes. In those fleeting moments, you get the entire spectrum of humanity. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get to leave a spark behind.
“The Apple” was the fourth store I worked at, but my first in a city. The sheer volume of feet walking through the doors was exhilarating – The constant noise of chatter, cooler doors opening & closing, receipts printing, people complaining. Some people would hate that chaos. I found my zen.
That day, the line was brutal. I was dealing with a woman who suddenly decided she needed everything within reach — chips, gum, batteries, a lighter she’ll never use. Her pile on the counter in front of me grew by the second. I plastered on my polite smile, though inside I was trying to figure out where I could bury her without getting caught.
Then I noticed someone peeking around her. Over the course of what felt like a million glances between us, I’d noticed arms covered with vibrant ink that looked like stories etched into skin, a NOFX shirt worn soft at the edges, camo cargo shorts, and the kind of stance that said he was comfortable in his own chaos – my “type”, wrapped up in an adorable little package.
Then our eyes met.
“Oh, shit,” I thought, as goosebumps covered my arms. His eyes were the most dangerous shade of blue I’d ever seen: sharp, alive, sparkling with beautiful trouble. Something about him felt familiar, like we’d been circling each other across lifetimes. Married in another universe, maybe. Strangers here. I was officially intrigued.
My coworker called him over to her register – “Camel Wides,” he said. A million more glances between us for those few seconds while she cashed him out.
He glanced at me once more, the shy smile of a kid with a crush this time, then walked out the door.
I told myself that was that. A fleeting spark. Something to tuck away and smile about later.
Still, curiosity gnawed at me. As soon as my line cleared, I leaned toward my coworker.
“What’s his deal?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s just Jack. He flirts with everyone.”
“Noted,” I muttered, pretending I didn’t care. But I kinda did.
A couple hours later, the store phone rang.
“Hi, is this Sally?”
“Yep,” I replied.
“I was just in there a little bit ago, I don’t know if you remember – bald guy with tattoos? I think I forgot something while I was there.”
“Where, on the counter??” I said as I started looking around.
“No, I forgot to ask for your number.”
There it already was – the infamous “flirts with everyone”.
Part of me wanted to laugh, part of me wanted to give him my number, and part of me remembered my reality.
I took a steadying breath. “Well, I appreciate the offer, but… I’m in a relationship.”
A soft pause. “Fair enough. Worth a shot.”
We said goodbye. I hung up, convinced that was the end of it.
Holy hell was I wrong.
Next thing I know, I had a friend request on Facebook.
“How’d you find me on Facebook?!?” I asked.
“Well, you’re the only Sally who works at The Apple in town. So…it wasn’t that hard,” he chuckled.
“Better question I guess would be why did you find me on Facebook?” I was mildly creeped out. Still intrigued though.
“I want to get to know you. Is that ok?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Over the course of months, we got to know each other a little bit.
One night, we went outside the store to hang out for a few minutes.
“Everything kinda sucks right now,” he said with a duller tone than usual. “So I signed up to go to Iraq in November. To get away from ‘normal’ life for a bit. Maybe get some perspective. Or at least some distraction.”
“You’re in the army?!?” I asked.
“10 years and counting!”
He went on. “I got a TBI a few years ago, on duty. I don’t even know what happened, other than I was knocked out for a few minutes. Apparently nothing too serious, but I do get symptoms of a stroke sometimes. Nobody knows why – Nothing shows on MRI scans.”
Where was this coming from all of a sudden? He’d never really opened up to me before – always just passing conversation when he’d stop in for gas or whatever. I couldn’t help but wonder what brought this on, but I wasn’t about to pry.
“I’m not gonna lie, you really don’t seem like the ‘army’ type to me…whatever that means,” I admitted.
He shrugged. “I’m also a corrections officer. And I used to be a cop.”
My heart jumped into my throat. Maybe he’s not so much my “type”.
“Why the hell would you do that?!?” I said half jokingly. He always seemed so chill, & fun. I could see if he were an EMT or something like that. But law enforcement?!?
“I knew I could.”
I laughed. “Well, I could’ve been a prostitute, but that doesn’t mean I should!”
“Good point,” he smiled.
“What else should I know about you?” I asked inquisitively.
“Hm. Well…I’m divorced. I have 3 kids with my ex wife. We were stationed together in Washington, and then she ran off across to country with the kids. That’s how I ended up here – I’m not about to let her keep them from me for no good reason.”
I was shocked. Why would she do that to him?!? She must have had her reasons, but I can’t imagine he could deserve that. There must be more to know…
“3 kids!? How old are you?!?” I asked.
“35. How old are you?”
“23” I giggled shyly. “Zero kids…so far!”
“Don’t rush it, trust me!” he smiled & shook his head at himself.
November came & went. He never gave me the chance to give him a hug & wish him well before he left, so I assumed I’d never see him again.
Again.
An opportunity to work at a hospital and make more money came along, so I took it.
And I didn’t hesitate to look back. At least, that’s what I thought at the time.
What did you think of Chapter One? I’d love to know if any moments stood out to you — drop a comment below or share your favorite line.
Stay tuned for Chapter Two — and hit “like” & “subscribe” if you’re along for the ride.
Some stories don’t ask permission — they just show up, unpack their bags, and move into your head. This one’s been living rent-free in mine for months, and I finally gave in and started writing.
So I started writing a novella a couple months ago. I’ve mentioned it here briefly, but my current lack of motivation to work on blog posts is making me think it might be worth sharing chapters of this very alive story from time to time, and I thought I’d prepare you all for that! 😆
It’s not fully planned out, and it’s still very much in progress. It’s very raw & personal. It’s about the friend I’ve mentioned that I’ve been missing a lot lately. (Well, the first part of it is about him, & things that actually happened.) – I just appreciate giving a little more life to our relationship, and honoring what we had. Cuz it was pretty epic.
So I hope you’ll enjoy the ride as I work on it occasionally. (Don’t worry, my “regular” content will still be the primary focus on my blog. – This is just a “side quest”, if you will.)
The Spark That Wouldn’t STFU
About a year ago now, someone said something that reminded me of an old friend, and all kinds of memories came flooding back about him. Relentlessly, because I was starting to feel some burnout from a situation I’d been dealing with for a couple years prior.
He was always a source of love, comfort, & valuable perspective, even when he was dealing with his own struggles. He was someone I respected, admired, & adored immensely. His resilience & strength fed into my own and helped shape the woman I grew to be, even while he wasn’t around.
We never dated; our love was always platonic (though we probably would’ve jumped on each other if given the opportunity!!) I never felt that I was capable of loving him the way he needed & deserved, and I think he felt the same way. I always felt that friendship was definitely better than nothing, and I still would have his back forever if he’d let me.
He ghosted me after a misunderstanding that he apparently didn’t want to work out. Which was the worst heartbreak of my life, if I’m being completely honest.
With all those memories flooding back, along came the same unresolved grief I’d experienced over ten years ago but with a more mature perspective.
So I decided to try to turn it into something as beautifully chaotic as it is. Maybe it’ll help me find more peace with the situation, maybe not. But it deserves it’s tiny place in literary history, cuz it was a hell of a ride!
A Glimpse at the Story
Fair warning – the characters are ACCIDENTALLY named Jack & Sally. I say accidentally because he’s a fan of Nightmare Before Christmas, and that’s not at all what the names are in reference to lol! When trying to think of names, I decided the girl’s name would be Sally because that was my “pen name” online back then (because of the Foxboro Hot Tubs’ song by that name). Jack struck me as an “edgy guy name”. And then I realized what I had done…and decided not to care!
Ultimately, the story will follow Jack & Sally from when they met, and throughout decades. Obviously, a fair amount of the beginning is based on real memories, while the latter parts will drift into fiction based on experiences with other people in my life, including a little tragedy (which I wouldn’t wish on anyone, especially “Jack”). For the most part though, it’s somewhere between a fun, lighthearted love story, and a reckoning.
Coffee, Chaos, and Chapter Two (And a Half)
So far, writing it has been a treat! I’ve really enjoyed reminiscing about how sweet & fun that relationship was. It’s really been filling my heart with the same love I felt back then.
I’m only about 2½ chapters in at this point. A couple spots were tough to figure out how to put together, but I think I managed. Everything that’s in there is in there for a reason.
I’m learning just how emotionally stoic I tend to be. And how passionate he tended to be. Which could balance us at times, and throw us extremely off balance at other times.
I’ve also realized just how much we genuinely loved each other. Which makes the heartache suck even more now than it did back then.
When do I find time to write? Mostly in the mornings, after I finish my essential focus work, and only if I don’t have a blog post to work on. In other words, rarely. But once I get started, I never wanna stop – I wish I could work on it all day every day! ❤️
The Heart Behind the Words
This story isn’t just a recall of events, but more of an extension of my life philosophy & heart. Lots of emotional territory will get explored, from love to loss, to healing & rebellion & a sense of identity (even when that gets shaken).
I’ll be sharing bits and pieces here as I go — maybe some full chapters, maybe just thoughts from the process. So if you like watching a story come alive in real time, stick around. This one’s going to be interesting.
What would you like to see — more “behind the scenes” posts or the chapters themselves?
And tell me this: what kind of stories haunt your mind until you write them down?
Let’s chat in the comments.
If this post resonated, give it a like, share it with a friend, and subscribe for more messy, heartfelt creative chaos.
Technically, May is ALS Awareness Month — but for me, the awareness never ends. I live with it every October.
Which super sucks because my allergy season starts at the end of August & lasts throughout September. Couple that with always catching the same cold everyone gets at the end of September, and my body & mind is just shot by the time October rolls around.
October is my birth month. But it’s also the anniversary of my mom passing away. So…everything sucks.
Brace yourself for some “heavy shit”. I’d like to share why I am the way I am, what shaped my perspectives as I grew up, and how I’m doing right now.
When My Mom Got Sick
I actually started writing a post explaining my family’s history with ALS, but it’s still sitting unfinished in my drafts because it depresses the fuck out of me. I’ll probably share it sometime though.
My mom got sick when I was 14, right around Thanksgiving. She started having trouble swallowing & speaking because she had “bulbar onset ALS”, which means her tongue was becoming paralyzed.
In the months that followed, I became a major caregiver for her. I found myself helping her on the phone & in person with debt collectors, doctors, everyone. It got to the point where I was the only one who could still understand what she was saying without her having to write anything down.
Then she couldn’t swallow at all anymore. So, she had a GI tube placed in her stomach so she could still get some nutrition. I helped “feed” her, and with cleaning the tube.
Nobody bothered to tell me that ALS progresses aggressively in our family – until recently, no one’s survived longer than 18 months from the onset of symptoms. I thought I had time.
By the time the school year started, she was in pretty rough shape. But I was still more than happy to continue my duties as a caregiver. However, my mom’s sister had other plans. She stepped in to help, ultimately pushing me out of the way so I could “focus on school”. (How the fuck was I supposed to focus on school with my mom wasting away at home? I digress…)
October rolled around, and she was rapidly getting weak in her limbs. Hospice was welcomed in. A hospital bed was placed in the living room for her. One of the aides stole money from my parents. Her diaphragm had become paralyzed & she refused to be intubated (because at that point, the stark reality of the situation is “why bother?”) Everything sucked.
Four days after my 15th birthday, she passed away.
The Night Everything Broke
I was in my room listening to Rancid after dinner. Between songs, I heard a terrible noise from out in the living room. So I stopped & listened at the door. I knew I didn’t want to face the situation; I knew what was happening. So I spent a moment trying to find the courage to face the reality.
I walked out & stopped in the doorway to the living room. My mom’s spit sucker was full of blood, and she was laying there lifeless with my dad, aunt, & uncle crying around her. She’d died of respiratory failure – in other words, she’d just choked to death on her own blood. The terrible noise was my aunt’s despair. The whole thing was horrific. Happy fuckin’ birthday.
My dad walked up & gave me a hug; that’s literally the only time I’d ever seen that man cry. When he let go, I walked over & held my aunt as she repeatedly screamed “I’m sorry, I did everything I could”. I didn’t shed a tear. Because that’s how I am – deal with the situation, & get emotional about it later.
As a side note… There were a couple things I’d found out about much later that I wish I’d known sooner. For example, my mom had sleeping pills that she wanted to use before things got too bad for her to use them, and my aunt told her “she couldn’t do that to (me)”. Had I known, I would’ve not only given them to her to shorten her horrific suffering, I would’ve been able to say good bye.
Well…
What Comes After Death
I sat on the couch in front of her. My dad & uncle went outside to smoke cigarettes & drink for a little bit, while my aunt went in the kitchen to call the coroner & family members. They were understandably traumatized.
I got to thinking about how a body is just a shell. That this corpse in front of me was not my mom; my mom was with me in spirit. I could feel it.
Eventually, our vessels will fail us all. It doesn’t necessarily mean the end of our existence, though none of us truly know what happens in the next phase.
Then I realized I was sitting alone with my mother’s still twitching corpse. I got it in my head that this is how it is – I’m alone in dealing with everything for the rest of my life; I’m expected to be there for everyone else, and I don’t deserve anyone being there for me. After all, I was barely 15, sitting alone with my mother’s still twitching corpse.
And I screamed in devastated rage. I can still feel it, I can still hear myself. No one should have to feel like that.
My aunt came running & wrapped her arms around me. She told me “I know”. No, you have no idea. Everyone had already abandoned me & my grief. You can’t really come back from that.
Fast forward to the funeral a few days later…
Everyone met at my grandma’s house. When it was time to leave for the church, I was forced toward the front of the line out the door.
She had a doorway from the kitchen to the stairs where the basement was, and then another doorway to the sun room, and then a doorway out of the house.
It was pouring all day. Quiet thunder rumbled in the distance.
The very second I stepped foot in the doorway to the sun room, it was like lightning struck in the yard – the loudest boom I’ve ever heard in my life & everything went completely white for a moment. I stopped dead in my tracks & was immediately hit with the idea that “this is the dawning of the rest of my life”. My aunt gently pushed me out the doorway.
And that’s the attitude I felt the need to develop from there on – You don’t get to stop, you don’t get to feel. You just keep going, pushing forward, else you’ll get sucked into a pit of despair.
I know better. I even knew better then. It inevitably always catches up to you eventually. But I had no choice; I was pushed out the door without acknowledgement.
At her funeral, I stood away from everyone. I wore a beautiful black velvet dress and held a red rose that someone had given me. I looked stunning.
But everyone seemed scared of me. Most of them didn’t even know who I was, nor did I know them. Why were they even there?!? They weren’t around my whole life, they weren’t around when she was sick… Why bother being there at her funeral, “honoring” her & “expressing” condolences? I was infuriated. But at least I looked good… Ugh.
How I Buried It All (and Dug It Back Up)
I’d forgotten about all of these things for years after.
About 10 years later, I got it in my head that I’d like to advocate for ALS awareness & research. So I decided to start by participating in the local “Walk to Defeat ALS” fundraiser.
Even my family members didn’t donate. (Well, I think one forked over 20 bucks.)
During that time, I found myself researching my family’s history with the disease online. Much to my surprise (& horror), there’s a lot more articles about us than I ever imagined. (And many many more now.)
That’s when I learned that we have one of the most aggressive SOD1 mutations in recorded medical history. Unlike everyone else who gets ALS, hereditary or sporadic, it wipes us out incredibly quick. And if we want to bother getting tested to find out whether or not we’ve been cursed with the gene, a positive result for the mutation means there’s a 96% chance that that’s our death sentence.
The genetic time bomb ticks louder in my ear every year. Even though I’ve never been tested.
It was at this time that all these memories came flooding back to me. I’d apparently repressed them, and they came back like a raging wildfire, tearing me the fuck apart in the process.
All those memories came back about a year after my father had his first stroke & cancer, and I was his only caregiver (for 12 years after, until he passed away).
And that was also when I lost my friend that I’ve mentioned briefly in previous posts…. Because I was too overwhelmed to know how to express all this to him properly.
Still Healing
Here we are.
I’m mentally & emotionally burned out from staying strong for the sake of taking care of my family during some chaos that lasted much too long.
So give me some grace as I work through all this mess – I’ll keep up with my weekly posts as best I can (& they should be more uplifting than this one!)
And thank you for giving me the space to vent – I hope I didn’t ruin your day LOL ❤️
If you’ve ever carried a loss that never fully leaves, know you’re not alone. Writing about it helps — even if it takes decades to find the words.
“Where I’m at” posts are just updates about what’s going on in my life, based on the areas / roles in my life.
planner : Halloween fun is coming up! Trunk or Treat, pumpkin farm, and so on. Hopefully. My birthday’s coming up too – I’d really like to get some tattoos (hubby’s not too pleased about it, but I don’t care lol.) (My goal as a kid was to get a tattoo every year for my birthday. I went poor before I even hit 21, so I’ve got some making up to do lol!)
self (body & mind, emotion & education) : Egh… I’ve lost almost 20 pounds so far, so I’m pretty excited about that!!! I look & feel a lot better than I did at the beginning of the year, so that’s something to be proud of! Allergy season has been pretty hellish, as usual. Mentally, I’m still struggling a bit. Lots going on in my life, and in my mind in general. But I’m doing ok. I noticed that, for me, generalized depression & anxiety are 2 sides of the same coin, meaning that while one side is facing up, the other is still there – as a kid, depression was face up; in my 20’s and 30’s, it was anxiety (which I find easier to deal with most of the time); and starting this year, I’m finding it’s flipped to depression again. It’s ok though – lots of self care & I’ll manage just fine.
marriage : Things are ok. Little bit of a rough patch this month due to stress getting the best of us, but “endure, and keep yourselves for times of happiness”, and we’re gradually doing better.
mom (BooBoo & Bubby) : The girls are good. We’ll be switching BooBoo back to gymnastics, per her request; I think she’ll benefit a lot more from it than she was doing at the dojo she’d been attending for karate. Bubby’s excited that she’ll be able to practice techniques with her more, since they’ll be learning similar things.
homeschool teacher (1st grade & PK) : Well, my original IHIP for BooBoo wasn’t accepted because it apparently wasn’t detailed enough, but the revised version was all good, so…yay! She’s loving school (even though she inevitably gives me a hard time during classes heh!) Bubby’s getting more interested in learning to read, and she’s picking up on a lot of new things, so that’s awesome. She was even working on subtraction problems in a Kindergarten workbook we have, which is super awesome!!! 🥲
zenBLITZ : Still loving my blog. I’m enjoying writing about whatever’s been on my mind, and I’m enjoying working on my fiction (ish) novella when I can. Social media sucks balls though!!! 😂
homemaker (finance, cleaning, gardening, prepping, travel) : All good. Well enough, I should say. I’m already thoroughly enjoying soup season hehehe!
Currently
eating – SOUP!! 😋
drinking – Barefoot Zinfandel, warm lemon water
watching – I haven’t really been into too many shows lately. Twisted Metal & You are still favorites. I like Joel McHale as the host of the 1% Club, and I absolutely loathe Martin Short as host of Match Game (come back, Alec!! 😭)
reading – “The Last Time They Met”, by Anita Shreve (it’s a little dry so far). Finished “One Italian Summer” last month – it was good, kinda interesting premise, but a bit too drawn out for me to ever want to read it again lol
playing – Nothing, really
buying – Everything in Spirit Halloween LOL
listening to – At this particular second, “21 Guns” by Green Day
celebrating – My birthday, I guess 😅, Halloween
pinning – “Free Spirit”, “Funny Shit”, & “Food”
planning – On getting some tattoos and maybe going to the casino buffet for my birthday
Last year, I shared a post about the idea of a “Do Nothing Day”, & it seemed like quite a few people found the concept pretty interesting. So, I thought I’d reintroduce it with a couple of tweaks!
What is a “Do Nothing Day”?
It’s a date you make with yourself where you do nothing. Almost literally.
For example, I spend all week homeschooling, running kids to extracurriculars, writing, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, and on and on…
On “Do Nothing Day”, I’m not having any of that nonsense!
The dishes & laundry can wait. The kids can entertain & educate themselves a bit. And there’s enough food in the freezer, pantry, & leftovers in the fridge that I shouldn’t have to cook, and nobody’s gonna starve.
I clean my house every day, and still have to clean my house every day. Except “Do Nothing Day”. Cuz…fuck that shit.
It’s perfectly reasonable to take time for your own sanity before you run yourself into burnout city. “You can’t fill others’ from an empty cup” they say; and you can’t run a car on fumes for very long before it causes you even more problems. I’ve “powered through” so much crap in my life, I know how it can sneak up on you.
When to “Do Nothing”
I prefer to take Sundays as my “Do Nothing Day”. Not for religious reasons; I just figure most people don’t like to do things on Sundays, so there aren’t usually any parties or events to interrupt my plans.
Whatever day works best for you is up to you!
How to “Do Nothing”
Honestly, these days I call it my “Fuck All Day”; for my kids, it’s “Whatever Day”.
I only try to do things that bring me peace. If that includes doing laundry, so be it. If it includes writing in my journal all day, that’s perfectly fine too.
My diet & exercise routines go out the window. I still do some yoga & tai chi, but I also eat all the carbs. My usually pitch black coffee is infused with pumpkin spice creamer (the only pumpkin spice I like!) and Trader Vic’s Macadamia Nut Liqueur; my breakfast is my ultimate comfort food- Chicken Flavor Maruchan Instant Lunch. 😋 And if there’s leftover chicken wings or pasta salad in the fridge, bet your ass I’m shoveling it in my face!
I reflect on the past week in my journal, and decorate the pages with washi tape, stickers, & photos.
Hubby usually throws something crazy together for dinner (or he just makes steak – what an angel! 😊), and he does the dishes. Or he doesn’t; I don’t really care either way.
And as I said, it’s “Whatever Day” for the kids. I always make them drink some water and eat fruit & protein for breakfast – if they finish that & want more, then they can have cereal or Toaster Strudel or whatever. On “Whatever Day”, they can have pizza & juice for breakfast for all I care.
I usually limit their screen time quite a bit too. But not on “Whatever Day”! Wanna watch videos of adults with too much time on their hands play Minecraft all day? Whatever! (Why?!? Why do people enjoy watching other people play video games, instead of playing the games themselves?!? I’m just too old to understand…)
Solo Retreats & Staycations
You could always take it to the next level if you wanted to (or if you don’t have time to carve out weekly) – schedule a “solo retreat” or “staycation”!
I actually read a little book about “Solo Retreats” that was published during the pandemic, which was cute. The book suggested bringing as many of the elements of a “retreat” to your home! I guess it depends on what kind of “retreat” you’re looking for, but it could include a schedule with meditation, yoga, journaling, indulging in hobbies, a fulfilling menu, maybe some fun drinks, candles, a bath, a bonfire… What would you do on a retreat?
Same with “staycations”. What would you do on a vacation that you could do in your own neighborhood? Odds are good that you wouldn’t have to drive far to find historic spots, museums, new boutiques, or restaurants you’ve never tried. Companies make Capri Sun-esque pouches of wine & margaritas that you could take to a lakeshore beach, y’know?
So schedule some time for sanity maintenance – whether a weekly “Do Nothing Day”, a monthly “Solo Retreat”, or an occasional “Staycation” – a little break from routine can go a long way!!
👉 If this gave you ideas, try scheduling your own Do Nothing Day this week. Then come back and tell me how it went!
zen BLITZ 