12.22.2023 | Friday

holiday blues & friday 5

category: Memetastic
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reading time: 3 minutes

bah, humbug

My cave troll existence has continued. I freakin’ love this time of year, but I haven’t been able to truly enjoy it. I love the decorations, the movies, the music, the baking, the holiday spirit. I love all of it. But this nonstop caucophony of crap (the headache from hell) going on inside my head is really doing a number on my ability to feel terribly ho ho ho about things. I always feel a bit of a letdown when the holidays are over, and I’m certain I’m going to feel it even more this time.

I had a bit of a mid-morning-bath meltdown this morning, spurred by the holidays but, in truth, much more encompassing. In truth, I’m not living the life I want, and I haven’t been for too long. Technically, it started with the pain in my back and neck, the massive nerve damage. But while that slowed me down some, it wasn’t really the heavy-hitter in the situation. I developed an even higher tolerance for pain and learned to deal with it. But it’s gotten somewhat worse over the last several years. But still… not the deal-breaker. THAT came with COVID. That shit really effed me up. It’s been 18 months since I had it, but the long-lasting effects SUCK. POTS sucks. I’m tired, I’m brain-fogged, my pain sits heavier, and my ability to breathe is severely compromised.

I’m not trying to do overly big things. I just want to live my life. I want simple tasks to not require rest and recovery. I want to go to the beach and not feel like I need three days to recover from it. I want to go for a walk and be able to breathe. I want to walk in the sun and feel the sand in my toes. I haven’t been to the beach in months, since Mother’s Day, which, for me, is a travesty. Especially since I barely live 15 minutes from the ocean.

And all of a sudden, all of it hit me as I sat in a hot bath this morning, with only the light of a tart warmer nightlight to illuminate the room. I sat in the dark and sobbed for a good twenty minutes. Which… of course… exhausted me.

But now I’m gonna paste on a smile so I don’t bring down anyone else, and maybe if I fake it, I can make it feel real. I hope so, because I love the joy of this time of year so very much.

friday 5: the other shoe

play along here

1. When did you most recently drop the ball?

I haven’t really dropped it, but I am great on taking on unnecessary guilt when nobody else really cares one way or another. I feel like a bit of a burden at the moment, even though no one is treating me that way. Mom/wife guilt is real, y’all.

2. Who last dropped you a line or dropped by?

Dropped me a line… my former stepmom. We chatted for awhile, commiserated on some things. General girl talk. Dropped by… it’s been awhile since anyone dropped by.

3. How do you feel about raindrops falling on your head?

Literal rain… I’m good with it. It’s cleansing, and more importantly, it’s necessary for the land, so I welcome it. For that, anyway. But I drive a 1991 Mazda Miata convertible. Rain in Hawai’i can be intense, and driving my car in it can be a harrowing experience.

One of my favorite memories comes from a rainpour back in New York, twelve or thirteen years ago. We all went out to play in it. Me, the hubs, all four kids. There was a huge flooded area next to our house, and we got out the winter sleds and hydroplaned in it. We had muddy water fights. Shenanigans were had. It was a blast!

4. When did you memorably deliver a mic drop moment?

Recently, I called someone close to me on their bullshit. It was past due and necessary. I finally reached my fill of it, after too many years of taking the brunt of said bullshit. So I handed it to them neatly, succintly, and definitively. And then I dropped the figurative mic. I felt powerful in that moment.

5. Whom have you recently discovered to be drop-dead gorgeous?

Anthony Padilla of YouTube’s SMOSH fame. He’s a beautiful man to look at. Yes, it’s a cougary choice, as he’s 17 years younger than me, but I’m okay with that.

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