Falling Up

Autumn has peeked her soft, little face around the corner of the seasons, here in North Dakota, and I’m actually sliding into a better frame of mind.

I. Love. Autumn.

(This picture is from a couple of years ago, the trees aren’t quite this brill yet)

The air is softer than other seasons, as though I could scoop a handful out of the sky, and rub it on my face like downy feathers.

The light seems to be softer, as well. It doesn’t generally have the harsh glare of summer, & is not as early-morning frosty as spring. Obvi, it’s very different from winter. The light seems to sift through the leaves on the trees a little more golden, glittering lightly on water’s surface, ending earlier every day with glowing sunsets.

And the smells that permeate the air in autumn…fallen leaves, smoke from wood-burning fireplaces on chilly nights, or from barbeques being fired up for those last “Honey, I cooked over open flame… Hear me roar!” meals. Fragrant candles being lit in households that remind you of apple cider, freshly-baked cookies, or hot-out-of-the-oven spicy pies.

Oh yeah…I’m falling UP, now.

It’s been almost a year, it’s about damn time.

Bring on the hoodies and knit sweaters. Bring on the fuzzy socks & boots. I’ll pack away the shirts & sandals, good riddance for another year.

Goddess…

I’m SO ready for Autumn!

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Hellmart

I had to go to Hellmart tonight for a few things.

As I was walking from one side of the aisle to another, I passed a box full of something, and impaled my hand on a hook sticking out of the box.

Blood running all the hell over the place, down my hand & arm, I frantically searched my purse for some tissues, but couldn’t find any.

And no one noticed or stopped.

So, as I bled all over the sleeve of my jacket, I pushed my cart to a counter back by the auto shop, where luckily,I found some industrial paper towels.

I started mopping myself up, & pulled my mini bandaid packet out of my purse. (Yeah, I carry them, I get paper cuts at work a lot)

And my sarcasm kicked in, when the gal behind the counter, who was helping another customer, looked over, and, with no compassion in her voice at all, said…

“Battery acid?”

I blinked at her & said that, no, I’d impaled myself on a hook in another aisle.

She sighed, & said,

“OK, as long as it’s not battery acid. Need a bandaid?”

*snort*

I held up my Band-Aids, & said that no, I had some, I just needed to stop bleeding everywhere.

She turned away.

Fuck, I hate Walmart.

Not ONE person, associate or otherwise, tried to help me.

One associate jackass even came and stood behind the counter not 2 feet from me, watching me, but saying nothing.

As though I might swipe something off the counter?

Fucking hellhole.

And now, my hand is throbbing and swelling.

I probably need stitches, or that super glue stuff, but fuckit.

I’m going to soak this bastard & ice it, after I put about 6 more Band-Aids on it.

Typing tomorrow should be fun.

FML.

*Edit*

Yeah, so looking at it, it’s about a quarter of an inch long, & the inside of my palm is starting to bruise up…I may end up going to the doc for this tomorrow. Joy.

24/7

So, I’ve been working and pushing myself on trying to claw my way out of my depression that I’ve been in since last October.

Yes, since October.

Normally, the winter months are notoriously bad for me, dark and cold. Long nights, and very little sunlight, which is an awful combination for someone with depression.

But – I can usually start to pull myself out of it once Spring starts.

When the sun starts to return, and things start to “green up”, when things start blooming again, normally, so do I.

*sigh*

Not this year.

Here we are, already in the middle of July, and I’m still struggling to see the point.

You know? The point in getting up in the morning. The point in doing the things. The point in breathing.

That point.

I keep doing it, just in case I catch it, one of these days.

But I don’t feel it.

ANYWAY,

This week, I decided it was time to pull my head out of my ass and start doing some of the real work around here.

I’ve been having a difficult time keeping up on the yardwork this year, between depression, arthritis, and my lawnmower not working the way it used to ( battery-operated, the battery is not charging like it used to, & those suckers are kinda spendy), I’ve fallen behind.

Basically, my yard looked like an overgrown, abandoned lot.

I broke down & bought a small battery-powered weed trimmer, because that’s what my arthritis can handle. It only runs for about a half hour, but that works.

My hedge trimmer? Well, I have to do what I can, in small chunks. I’m still working on it. This is difficult for me to do, as I hate leaving a job unfinished, and tend to push myself until the job is fucking done. Never mind if the body is broken at the end, which it would be.

My back yard…is a work in progress.

That’s all I’m going to say.

It’s all I can say.

And after yesterday, which was spent doing indoor work, cleaning house with OnlySon…

Today is a self-care day.

It has to be.

Yeah, I pushed too hard- I won’t deny it. Yeah, I’m feeling a little broken today.

So I’m taking today off.

Doesn’t mean I’m not still thinking about all the shit I still have left to do.

Ugh.

The brain keeps going.

24/7.

But I Can’t Make Myself

Decide.

So many things come down to that One. Little. Word.

My daughters, my parents, & my Schnicklefritz grandson all want me to move to Washington to be closer to ElderDaughter & her family (Schnicklefritz especially, he pouts). I don’t want to miss being there for my grands growing up. I want to be the Gramma they come running to after school, the woman they brag about to their friends who’s just that cool.

BelovedNephew wants me to move to Georgia to be closer to him. He is my best friend, and soulmate. He understands things about me no one else has ever. I miss him so fully, it tears at something inside when I think about how far apart we are.

OnlySon doesn’t want me to change anything. He wants me to live in the house I’m in, keep the job I have, be here, because he’s here. He doesn’t want to miss me. He hates change, and I don’t blame him. Change is uncomfortable and scary.

I know I have to make a decision.

I know I have to make a choice.

But, I can’t make myself.

Because, you see…

Any choice I make…ends with someone I love being hurt.

And that’s one thing I can’t stand to do.

I’ve hurt people in the past, I know I have, sometimes knowingly, but usually out of ignorance, and unconsciously.

How do I make a choice here without hurting someone? I can’t. It’s just not possible.

And then, I hear the voices of my loved ones in my head saying…

“Just do what’s best for you…”

Yeah…but what’s best for me is to NOT FREAKING HURT OTHERS.

Because of what I used to be in the past, because of who I used to be, I made a LOT of changes in my life.

Oh, Goddess, I’ve fucked up so many things in my past, but there’s nothing I can do about that, anymore. There’s no going back, there’s no atonement, there’s no fixing, for so many of those things.

And, I’ve paid. Oh, yeah…I’ve paid in spades, for a lot of it. I beat the hell out of myself (can’t you tell?) for my past, regularly. *shrug* And I do try to make up for being an asshole back then, by being very much not an asshole now.

I think, too, subconsciously, part of me thinks I deserve to be alone now, because of everything I did in the past.

Penance, you know?

Like maybe there’s some kind of invisible-to-me sign that hangs around my neck that says “unworthy“, that men can see, so they stay away.

But, I digress.

I know I need a change.

I know I have to make a choice.

I can’t stay, because things here…just hurt…anymore. The ones that have left their knives behind in my back, wow, they were sharp, and left scars that just don’t fade. The ones that used only words…seemed to scar worse. And the ones that smiled, that seemed to want the same things, then disappeared… everything just hurts, you know?

Is it any wonder I don’t sleep or eat much these days?

There’s Nothing Wrong With It

There’s nothing wrong with being “in the dark” for a while.

Even the sun sets every night.

There’s nothing wrong with being “down”, sometimes.

What goes up, must come down.

There’s nothing wrong with experiencing every mood that crosses your day.

It’s a sign that you’re mentally healthy if you are actually feeling things as they happen.

There’s nothing wrong with being in a good mood one moment, and not the next.

Even the ocean has tides it must adhere to.

Life is a cycle, live it as it comes to you.

If it’s dark…maybe you’re meant to learn to use your other senses for a while. Or maybe you’re meant to become the light. Only you will know what that darkness means for you.

When the light returns…

Rejoice in the colors that surround you. Because this cycle, too, shall pass.

EVERY moment is temporary.

Don’t forget this.

Bottled up

I haven’t been sleeping well, some nights I don’t sleep at all. Literally.

As in, I’ve been pulling all-nighters, because I know I won’t be able to sleep.

I just lay in bed and stare at the walls, then get up, read a bit, try again to lay down, fail miserably, feel fucking stupid, and go back to my chair to read some more until it’s time to get ready for work.

No, this does not make for good days. I end up crashing in there, somewhere.

I get sick, like I did this week.

I try to stop the cycle, I’ve tried exercise, I put down the phone so I’m not staring at social media right before bed. I haven’t watched TV in, fuck, weeks.

I don’t drink caffeine, and I’ve stopped smoking. (Except for the odd stress smoke)

It’s my brain.

I’m all wrapped around my stress right now. I’ve got decisions that I’m supposed to be making, and things I’m supposed to be doing, that I’m not doing and my heart is starting to race just thinking about it.

I think I’m putting off the decisions and the things…because either way I end up deciding… someone I care about is going to feel hurt.

And that’s something I can’t stand to do.

Goddess, I know! All of this talk is so fucking vague… I can’t even come right out and just say it.

Everything is so bottled up inside me right now, and I feel as though I’m a chunk of cesium in water.

I haven’t been able to talk to anyone, either. Oh…stupid, surface shit, sure. I talk to the coworkers, but that’s work stuff, my mask is firmly nailed on, there.

But, to talk about scratching that surface? Letting anyone see what’s going on behind door number 1? That’s a big nopesicle.

I know I need to change something. Something’s going to have to give, or my brain will break, and not in a good way. (Is there a good way for that to happen? Like a pinata, would candy fall out? Streamers?)

I just…

Don’t know how to get out of this bottle without cracking the glass.