stifle

I stifle myself
every day to not let on
that I’m so fucked up.

And I’m not so sure that’s grammatically correct but I don’t care about much today. 

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Cheers to Reboots

So, I’ve come home for a while.

Last night was my first night sleeping back in my old high school bedroom, tonight is the first night Elise is spending here, and so tomorrow morning is when we wake up and start our lives over again.

That’s what it feels like to me, anyway.

All moves involve some level of change and transformation, but this feels more significant because the only way I am getting out of here is by succeeding at what I want to do – make a living writing – and I haven’t quite figured out how to do that yet.

I am fortunate to have this respite, I am even more fortunate to know that it’s temporary, and hopefully, within six months or less I’ll be moving in with a friend (actually, a friend’s mom), and knowing that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel here makes it much easier to bear.

This is my reboot and a second chance.

I have to admit, for the first time today, when I woke up this morning it wasn’t dread for the future that was dominating my mind.

Not everyone gets second chances, or third chances, or fourth chances.

So far, I’m one of the lucky ones.

take me away

nothing new on the
horizon; i need to go
on a vacation


“They” say it’s really important to have something to look forward to. I was listening to a podcast recently that mentioned what an integral part of a balanced, happy life it is to have a thing you’re excited about doing in the future. It keeps you looking forward, positively.

I need something to look forward to, but now I have to work my ass off to be able to afford it.

More on that later.

I’m going home again.

I only have four more sleeps here in my apartment before Elise and I are moving back to my parent’s house.

I can’t believe this is happening, let alone that I am here talking about it, but I’m starting to come around to the notion that talking about the things that scare me is exactly what I need to do.

I am still processing the shock that this is happening.

How many times have I turned to a friend and said don’t ever let me get a roommate again or I’d rather live in a tent than move back in with my parents.?

One time I actually told a few friends verbatim:

I want you to physically hit me about the face if I ever speak of getting another roommate, and then within three years moved in with Todd.

He wasn’t so bad. Matter of fact, he was the best roommate I’ve ever had, and we’re still friends after living together, and that says a lot in retrospect.

So, yeah, it’s happening.

I’m not happy about it. I’m actually filled with shame that I’m 35 years old and have gotten myself too financially fucked up to get another apartment, which is a whole other story of why the world sucks today and punishes people who have it hardest, which brings even more shame, which makes everything harder, and so on and so forth until these run-on sentences bring their own shame.

On the other hand, I remind myself how fortunate I am for the following:

  • having parents
  • having parents who love me and welcome my child and me into their home while I sort it out
  • having parents who support me, even though I’m totally insane

 

***

I have a lot of shit to work out, besides the financials.

I have to figure out what to do for Elise. Regular middle school is just not an option for her at this point, the longer she is out of mainstream school, the happier we are. I don’t anticipate ever willing putting her back in public school, because I don’t think, well, they aren’t right for us, for sure.

But, there is definitely something lacking with the homeschooling, and that’s interaction with other kids. I knew this would be the hardest thing to facilitate because for one thing, I have terrible social anxiety and never want to leave the house, and she has terrible social skills and is very immature for her age so has an extremely hard time relating to other kids of any age, typical or not.

Our counselor gave me a great kick in the butt today on this topic. I asked her what other parents of kids like Elise were doing when they had these socialization issues and she just shrugged and said:

“Most of them don’t end up doing anything. They try a few things, nothing works, they get tired of trying all this bullshit on top of all the regular bullshit at home, and so they just… don’t. They stay home, they watch TV, and they’re happier that way.”

Until the guilt comes back, I thought, but also – yeah, I get that. That’s me. That’s us. That’s trying a bunch of stuff and just being happier at home.

But now we don’t have our own home anymore, and I don’t know how this new situation is going to affect our lives, but, I feel the need to write about it.

Thankfully, on top of a supportive family, I have great friends who are making me feel better when I feel so shitty about this. Everyone goes home sometimes, and you’re not a failure, you just need a little help right now, are exactly the things I need to hear to keep me from crying myself to sleep every night.

Like, am I seriously about to go back to the very high school bedroom where my lifetime of anxiety and depression began? With my disabled child in tow?

Okay. This is fine.

Onward, and all that.