i’m in love with my sadness

PTSD is the worst. In fact, it is a shitshow. Like Yakov Smirnoff opening for Spin Doctors at the Iowa State Fair kind of shit show. And I know this because I’ve been living with it for almost 5 months now.

Deadpool GIF to go with the Deadpool quote

Five months ago my life was turned upside down (I think that part is pretty clear at this point) and there are still so many times where I find myself questioning if what I am living right now is actually real. I’m a widow who is 4 months away from turning 30 who isn’t working (thanks Corona -__-) and lives in her parents’ basement. Add to that to the fact that the entire world is a hot mess right now (at least I’m not the only one, amirite?) and I haven’t really left said parents’ basement aside from a quick sojourn to Sweet Home Alabama to meet my new nephew. I’ve basically been alone with my thoughts, memories, and quarantine snacks for the last 5+ weeks. And let me tell ya, the memories on repeat aren’t the good ones. So yeah, sounds like fun right?

I have always been the person who uses isolation as a coping mechanism (pretty sure I’ve touched on this a handful of times). I have used this time to justify not going to my weekly therapy sessions, which is probably the biggest mistake I have made so far. I do not recommend this strategy. I have made things worse for myself and I knew it would happen. But fret not, dear friends. I reached out to my therapist today so please don’t get on my case about it. I used to dread my weekly therapy sessions because I would have to acknowledge that witnessing my husband die is arguably one of the worst things that someone could experience and, more importantly, talking it through was really the only thing that would help me cope with the trauma of that night. So I threw caution and logic to the wind and said “to hell with it, everything is shut down and I don’t need to go”. It didn’t take long for me to see how this was a huge mistake. Massive mistake. I couldn’t sleep (still working on that part, btw) and the times I did sleep I would wake myself up crying or yelling or a combination of the two. I would have dreams where I was being charged with Taylor’s death because I didn’t revive him while doing CPR. Even just getting in bed and closing my eyes can trigger the flashbacks to attempting CPR and screaming/pleading with 911 to get there faster. It has been awful. Truly f’ing terrible, to be honest.

It wasn’t until just a few days ago that I was messaging with an old friend and realized the only thing that really helps is talking about it. Talking about all of the horrible things that happened that night and all of the emotions. Talking about the really hard stuff, the details of it all. Basically all of the things that most people don’t feel comfortable talking about. And I get that, it isn’t exactly what people want to hear. To be honest I don’t want to hear it either, my brain just doesn’t seem to cut me any slack. So today, after attempting to go through more of our stuff from storage (that process could be it’s own post entirely) and getting overwhelmed to the point of tears, I knew I had to get back into therapy. I need to have that outlet. It will only make things better. The last time I met with my therapist she was working on connecting me with someone who specializes in EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) therapy. Pretty exciting stuff, right? Stay tuned for that roller coaster ride.

me in therapy

So anyway, that’s my update. It isn’t exactly a great one, seeing as I am basically admitting that I have dropped the ball in a major way, but I have to find a way to hold myself accountable. Even if it means admitting my failure(s) to the entire world (or the 17 of you who actually read my posts). Please don’t be a cotton-headed ninny muggins like me and let your mental health take a back seat right now. Make it a priority. The world is a crazy place right now so don’t let it distract you from what is most important (i.e. YOU). 🙂

-A

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my perfect niece (Charlotte) & nephew (Will). also, guess who gets to finish her sleeve now?! THIS GAL

 

today’s blog title inspiration

**yes I know this is a cover but I really love it and mean no disrespect to The Smashing Pumpkins. It’s a great cover, you should check them out. ;)**

rainbows & a month of tomato soup

Monday marked one month since losing my grandmother. Am I sad? Yes, but I am doing better than I expected. Those baby steps I wrote about before are starting to make a noticeable difference. The day she was buried there was a small rainbow that formed as my family and I were getting ready to leave. I saw an almost identical rainbow after I went to visit her on Saturday.

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10/23/2018
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11/17/2018

As you might already know from my previous post, the guilt I felt about not making that damn tomato soup haunted me. So on Friday I visited my amazingly talented tattoo artist, Josh, and got a permanent reminder of the good memories I have with my grandmother (and tomato soup). *a special shout out & thank you to Josh for waiting on me because I live in Atlanta so traffic is an unpredictable nightmare*

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This was the day after I got it done if you couldn’t tell by the swelling and bruising.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving so I wanted to take a moment and say thank you to my family and friends, for their unconditional love and support, Taylor, for sticking with me during the lowest of lows I’ve hit, and last but certainly not least, you all for reading my blog and letting me know I’m not alone when it comes to my struggles. When I started this blog it was a way for me to share my experiences with OCD but it has evolved into me opening up about my anxiety and depression, which is not something I had ever really planned on doing. There have been many times in my life that I have felt like I was on an island when it came to mental health and starting this blog has shown me that even on my worst days I am not alone. I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving. Thank you for lovin’ me, thank you for bein’ there! Everyone’s thankin’! The whole world’s thankin’ you! Thankin’ us, for thankin’ you! What’s your Thanksgiving song?

-A

 

Also, if you haven’t started following me on Instagramcooler

 

baby steps

I knew last week would be rough. I didn’t realize this week would give it a run for its money. Yesterday was the first day since October 18th that I didn’t cry. Don’t get me wrong, I found myself on the brink a few times but I am finally starting to feel like the massive blanket of depression that has been wrapped around my shoulders is starting to loosen. I can look at pictures of my grandmother without crying. I can remember the good times without (quite as much of) the guilt I felt for any of the free time I didn’t spend with her during her last weeks and days. Don’t get me wrong, I think we all need a good cry every now and then, but my eyes need a break. I’m starting to think I have entered a state of advanced dehydration due to the amount of crying (and occasional evening Bud Light Lime or four) I’ve done the past two weeks.

So, how did being thrown into the first week post-loss go for me? Less than stellar. The water to our entire complex was shut off Monday for emergency maintenance, so I sat on the couch like a potted plant instead of attempting to cross anything off of my to-do list (which started in July 2017 and has never been fully completed). I woke up Tuesday with a bit more pep in my step but it was quickly washed away once I got to work, where I was greeted with typical work things and promptly discovered the soup of the day was none other than tomato, which I’m pretty sure ya’ll already know didn’t go over well. I ended up using my lunch break to get cup of tomato soup and go to my car and cry. Because when life gives you lemons, what do you do? Go to your car and cry. Also, and this is small potatoes compared to the whole soup car crying thing, I have somehow managed grow an Olympus Mons (geography degree nerd humor, FTW!) sized zit on my face overnight Monday and it has truly flourished in the anxiety and stress ridden environment that is my life right now. Wednesday was definitely the highlight because, not only was it Halloween, it was my Super Awesome, Totally Rad Mom’s birthday!

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Here is a pic of us from earlier in October with my brother, Dan, who is also pretty awesome.
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Here is a comparison of my mom and me at the same age. Or maybe not. Could be the same baby.
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Since you already saw our 2017 ‘stumes, here is a picture of me and T dressed up for Halloween in 2013. (I tried really hard to make that NOT rhyme but no matter what it ended up sounding like something from a Kidz Bop cover of a rap song.) Shake and bake, baby!

Thursday was a long day that began with accidentally branding my arm with a clothes steamer and now it is Friday. Finally. Here’s to hoping I don’t end up crying in my car during my lunch break next week. But if I do, that’s okay too.

one of the most painful realizations that comes with grieving is that our lives go on—and that has to be okay.

If anyone is struggling with returning to life as usual after a loss, this article was a huge help to me.

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This is how I looked most of the week.

Now that you’re nice and sad, some exciting news: my blog surpassed 1,000 views! 

Thank you all for taking time out of your day to read about lil’ ol’ me, the human equivalent of a houseplant but with more complicated emotions. The calamity that is my life doesn’t seem to be slowing down so I’m happy to continue supplying the masses with relatable content/content that will, at the very least, make you feel better about your own situation. Let’s keep this good thing going!

-A

….Now that I’m thinking about it, I probably account for around 25% of those views but whatever. Still counts.