stumbling through the good parts

i go through phases - they seem cyclical every 6-8 months, where i just feel.. broken.  maybe not broken. but.. lost? there's probably a much bigger issue there, but mostly i've rode it out over the years. i get into a funk and retreat back into myself and then typically emerge chasing after a new hobby, or interest, or project, or travel plan. i tell myself i just need more discipline. more routines. track all the things. finish the to do list. just don't stop moving, don't start missing. its been years since i truly felt like i wasn't sure if i would make it out to the other side of it. there was a brief window senior year of college after the assault where i hit rock bottom and i really struggled to understand the point. i think about her a lot in these times because, honestly, i know deep down that you can't live for the people around you, you have to live for yourself. and i just want to tell her that she's worth living for. she is whole. as is. that th

i'm angry. i'm angry and sad and i feel like a petulant child.  you lost yourself. you lost your memories, you lost your family.  that was my fault. you were 68 yrs old and i help organize care facilities.  that blows my mind.  68 is so young. you were so young.  you hated me at the end. you knew i was the reason you had to leave. even after the police found you walking in the middle of a busy road with no shoes. even after it all. you hated me in the end. none of this is your fault, i know that with every fiber of my being, but i'm so, so angry and sad and thats why i feel like such a child.  and while i was there trying to hold the pieces together, i lost myself too. flying to michigan once a month to drop everything to come and clean the house; cook and freeze weeks worth of meals because dad couldn't bring himself to cook; bringing groceries, washing clothes, making sure that the other one also needing love, attention and affection is getting cared for. i was empty

 i read my great grandmother's diary entries today.  i've been cleaning out my parents stuff (again) for them to do (another) move in which most likely they can't fit all of the things they own.  the entries were.. they were mundane. they were normal. they were full of life. everyday life that falls through the cracks that we forget to document.  she literally wrote the temperature and weather report.  this seems so much less personal than doing something along those lines; no pen or paper.  nothing concrete to find later in life.  perhaps our next generation will stumble upon this on accident.  in honor of grandma irene: today was sunny and warm, got up to 86 degrees!

there's a clear delineation to me of the before and after.  i'm using this post to bring together multiple blogs from various time periods, but even in reading previous posts there's a clear line in the sand to me. i'm slower now. slower to react. slower to let others in. slower to trust. slower to feel. slower to heal. and unfortunately, a little slower to laugh. i'm still trying to fix those last few.  there's a large gap in the timeline of these small glimpses into this life - and so much happened in such a blip of a lifetime.  just 5 years. 2013-2018. and in that amount of time, big cracks started to appear.  i lost katy. we started to see the impacts of mom's illness. i started thinking hard about the relationships in my life and what i valued, where i put my time & energy.  some of those friendships would break during this time period, others will take more time for me to truly understand that i was no longer interested in the level of life they we

sometimes, when i feel at my most vulnerable, you somehow creep back into my dreams.  it's typically when i'm least expecting it.  i don't even realize it's actually happening. it's something i typically overlook in the actual moment. but my brain is cruel. and when i fall asleep, there you are.  in the garden of memory, in the palace of dreams, that's where we shall meet. i'll wake up with a startle, not having been that close to you in years. and then i fight to find my way back to you.  fight to trick my mind to fall back into our storyline, whatever that may be, just so i can spend the few more minutes with you.   i spend the next day inside my own head. re-reading old emails.  what haven't i deleted over the years?  i knew in my times of strength i would try and find these again. back at rock bottom. back at square one. i, of course, know that nothing about this is real.  it's all in my head.  and honestly, feeling this nostalgia and reliving th

we met in 2010. we agreed to be roommates sight unseen.  we fell in love playing in the mountainsides of telluride.  and 7 years later we promised that we would never move out & love one another forever. j: you have grounded me in ways i never thought imaginable. you teach me daily what it means to be loved deeply and fully. you help curate a life that abounds of beauty, engulfed tightly in laughter and surrounded by joy.  thank you; thank you; thank you.    "over the years, and especially this past year, you have showed me to be loved where you are and not where you should be is the greatest of gifts, and i promise that i will embrace this sense of grace that you display daily."