Extraction Eve

A lot of different feelings are sloshing around my insides. My brain. My body. This extraction eve.

I am tired of the questions. How are you feeling*? Sad. Tired but my body and brain won't let me really rest. Angry. Somewhat hopeful. Not excited. Not joyous. Not happy. Aren't you excited to hold your baby in your arms? Yes. And I know it will be hard. And I'm going to miss the one-on-one time with L something fierce.

What with S being out of town for the past two weeks and in and out of the house frequently since he got back into town (I personally saw him for a total of about 2 nonconsecutive hours yesterday) I hadn't brought up the fact that, yes, I was still planning on going to Omaha. He took it better than expected - however, he's not going. Oh, and he doesn't want L to go either. 

I'm pretty fucking sad about this because Jesus fucking Christ. I don't often have strong feelings about Doing Things (at least, I don't think so) so when I do it's fucking important to me. And I've been talking about this for ages as a family vacation! So fun! We're going to stay at a hotel and go do fun big city things and the zoo and as of last night (less than 48 hours prior to surgery) all of that has been completely recalibrated. And I don't think she's realized the changes, because we're supposed to tell her together and tonight she's spending the night at a friend's house to celebrate their birthday.

I guess I'm also pissed because last night was the last opportunity we had to spend together as a family before H is born and S was so upset about the news that I wasn't planning on just not going to graduation because he didn't want to/didn't want me to, that he decided to go to an extra meeting at night that he wasn't going to stay late at but did and so wasn't home until after 9:00 PM.

Just...fuck. I am still going. I am keeping it together-ish. I am crying periodically, but have done all the stupid last-minute coordination shit for a third time. My parents are coming in clutch and have agreed to drive me since among the things you're not supposed to do after a c-section is drive a car. 

I did ask K to come with me if possible (realizing that it's not very possible because people of a certain age have lives and children and shit like that) and she couldn't. And then very reasonably asked if I was sure I wanted to do this which made me irrationally angry because this is another conversation I just keep having over and over again Groundhog Day style and after a certain point it feels like (isn't - but feels like) very few people in my life currently believe I have thought about it and am sure and what the fuck do you hear when I say x activity or thing is important to me? That one song from The Muppets? Christ.

So anyway. To summarize. My parents: saving the day. S: somehow truly believes this is a an example of me not "respecting him" because I want to...do a thing? That is probably not aces, but not totally unreasonable? L: oblivious, but having a difficult year what with all the unpleasant surprises. Which, yes, she got to go to Disneyland, but only after her dad pushed it back by five months. I'm sad for her. No fucking summer camp. No trip to Omaha. And, as of today, because I put S on the spot to plan and execute her birthday party no party like the one she was envisioning. I would be livid.** I: am sad and angry and not surprised and feeling unsupported because of this backlog of S just not supporting much of what I want to do. He's supported some stuff...but reluctantly, honestly, and it has been just like pulling fingernails to do get him at all onboard to with things like buying a house, going to grad school, getting a vasectomy, getting a job where he does not work out of town and, now going to graduation as some sort of final gesture of support after 3+ years of not being very supportive with this at all.

*sigh* In other news, I finally made a C-Section playlist. Here it is.

Okay, that's all. Tomorrow: Star Wars day and the extraction. I'm not ready. It's going to go great.

*Because this is typically (but not always!) in reference to the pregnancy/imminent delivery, not any other part of life.

**But, then, I am still upset about that one time we were supposed to go to a convention in Mississippi with my dad but then didn't for some reason and I had this whole plan where I was going to wear some fancy white shoes and go swimming in a swimming pool and wow the difficulty with change and rigidity of thinking? Those roots run deep.

I do care, but disassociation looks pretty damn attractive.

I don't know what to write, but feel like I should.

I had a request to do a session on anger management by one of two people who come to my community group, but it sounds like perhaps, in their case, the anger is justified? I understand you can't haul off and go punching people, but as of a few days ago it sounds like people at the place they're living are physically harming them and stealing their shit. And, of course, they can't just go live somewhere else. That's not how America works. *sigh* So: it feels dumb. Why talk about conflict resolution when the real solution (in my heart of hearts at least) is get the fuck out of there? I mean there probably is some point. Deescalation, etc. But fuck, man. You know? Yes.

Stress results in weird dreams. I'm surprised to say last night's stress dream involved fouettés. Fun how no matter how long it's been since I've taken a ballet class...stress about fouettés? Is eternal.

This game is pretty great, if you ever get the chance to play it. File under: things that shouldn't work, but do.

Someone I used to work with once said they don't believe ghosts can hurt living people because there are still white people alive in the South. I think about that every so often.

It's been pretty quiet this past week. More YouTube than usual, but at least, I suppose, I'm monitoring it while working on homework in the living room and having conversations about what's happening in the videos every now and again. Granted, those are somewhat limited in subject matter, but it's not rampantly unmonitored as it is at my MIL's house.

Speaking of: right before we went swimming yesterday at the Good Pool, my MIL texted S and myself to say that she doesn't want us using her middle name as one of the fetus' middle names. Instead, she would like us to use her first name. First of all: no harm in shooting your shot, but that's not really your choice, bestie (lol). Second: her first name is now mainstream culture/Gen Z/Gen Alpha slang for things that are kind of...meh. So no - no thank you. Third: hormones aren't helping with my unprocessed anger around, like, everything so while I didn't directly respond at all my first impulse was to say, "I'm sorry you've had that experience with your middle name, but I happen to like it a lot - it was even in the running for first name at one time! If you're truly uncomfortable with us using your middle name for fetus, then I'd be willing to pivot to FIL's mother's first name instead. Let me know!"

Anyway, S handled it and appropriately, so I'm pretty happy with the outcome. My catastrophizing drama queen brain had at one point spiraled to if I get any type of pushback whatsoever I'm changing the whole damn name. Because why? See: unprocessed anger. Mostly related to the audacity (MIL) and S being gone up until the day before delivery and doing the equivalent of signing me up for shit I did not agree to explicitly (which are good things and somewhat thoughtful! Except for that I am not fucking managing figuring out childcare and hanging out with people I don't know that are more his friends from AA anyway and just - bestie I am tired and I am trying to finish up grad school. I am not lonely and do not want more moving pieces to coordinate and following through with however much I may, yes, want to check out the coven across the park or go to an ecstatic/dance improv group at 11 on a Sunday - which were two of the activities).

I did actually get as far as contacting the mental health place I have a referral to and messaging them my insurance information as requested. And...that was it. That's the last I heard from them. Now, here's the thing (feel free to skip if I've already gotten into this; I can't fucking remember if I have or not): I'm pretty sure I will not have insurance past mid-May. Why? Because it doesn't appear as thought I can COBRA school-based insurance. I didn't resign or get fired! I just graduated! Which is what you want to have happen, right? Heck yeah. But also: no.

So now I'm probably not going to follow up with them anymore because I now need someplace that will just see me for a flat fee (hopefully), and just stick it out and pay out-of-pocket as far as things like initial pediatric appointments and postpartum followup appointments go, because S will not get insurance through work and, at least as of the last time I tried to do anything with the government marketplace S will also not provide paystubs in a timely manner, and makes too much for me or kids to qualify for a sliding scale pay plan anyway. 

Therefore (because I'm tired of saying 'so'), I'm kind of torn about how to address this.

• Do I have a lil' conversation via text (even though S frequently misunderstands me via text) and say: "Hey. I know you don't want to hear about this, but it is fucking important and I (and your kids) need you to listen and choose a response: you need to figure out if you want to pay for aaaaaaaaaalll of this (healthcare shit) out of pocket, or if you want to get insurance through your company, or if you want to provide me with paystubs to try to do something about it otherwise." 
• Do I just figure it out on my own as I have been doing this whole time? That hasn't made me feel the best about life, but it has been the most functional from a bottomline standpoint so far.
• Some secret third option?

Anyway, that's all I got for today. Happy Sunday. T-minus 12 days until dissertation, 14 until surgery. Wewt wewt.

Steps that turn into extra steps (multiplying exponentially) from here to the horizon

Things have been somewhat peaceful the last few days, although I'm concerned that I'll jinx it by naming it.

Yesterday's sun has turned into overcast and resulted in some light snow. I continue to be not very good at getting L to school on time, but she hasn't overtly shown any discomfort with this. We are only 2 days in, though, I suppose. S is having a good-ish time in Cordova. Last night he said he intends to get back the day before I'm supposed to go in for surgery. Which is scheduled for 5:30 AM the next day. I've been telling the fetus she needs to stay in until at least the afternoon of May 1st. After that it is whatever. But she is tracking at exactly the number of weeks I allegedly am, so unless she gets a wild hare, so that's good.

I'm trying to focus on appointments this week, wrapping up capstone things for on-site this week and getting all the presentation stuff ready next week since I'm having my defense nearly a week earlier than anyone else.

On my list today are:

- verifying: did I get a prescription for the vaccine I'm supposed to get this week?
- eye appointment. Bleh. Bleh because the place I go is a little bougie and the front desk people are always stressed out there's always a little bit of miscommunication between the provider and the front desk person resulting in no followup appointments being scheduled for the main issue I have anymore which has something to do with my eye pressure threatening to be too high. Whatever. It's time. Get. It. Done.
- getting the damn RSV vaccine; if by some crazy random happenstance I can't get it that is one of maybe 3-5 reasons why I wouldn't go to graduation.
- a nap
- finishing a lecture
- picking L up from school
- dropping L off at my mom's house aka her least favorite place to go; and I just...kind of don't blame her? They have great qualities, but, yes, the passive aggression has gotten real real over the years and who wants to be around that? Nobody, that's who.
- doing some acting for lab this evening. Fun! I don't have to grade! Not that I mind grading, actually, but I should probably do other writing more closely related to shit I have to get done this week.
- light chores. For they are always with us.

Finally, a quote from Vicky from The Good Place if I may: "Acting is reacting, and reacting is pre-acting, but pre-acting? Well, that's just being."

Black cat energy? Or just plain 'ol toxic?

My energy, though it hasn't been "in whack" per se for years, is officially "out of whack" as of yesterday. Wiggedy whack. Around 3:00 PM I just hit a wall and subsequently stayed at Site One for another 2.5 hours because I had to. Following that I crawled home and laid down until basically this morning. Woke up around 5:00 AM, had some coffee, and remembered that I have a big, scary, pre-test due tomorrow that if I do not achieve at least a certain score on I will have to pay re-take. And if I don't pass that one, I will not graduate. Ah, yes. There's the stress response that drives me (you? Us all?).

There's this function that's kind of like a filter and kind of like tunnel vision that kicks in at times of extra fatigue which means I can only perceive one task at a time. Yesterday that manifested in not responding to an extremely kind text message for 8 hours. *sigh* 

What if...I really honed-in and tried to take the focus from longer term to short term. Like, moment-by-moment, maybe? And considered the things I am doing and saying and whether these are in alignment with my actual values. One part of me really thinks that could go some way towards reducing moral injury (a concept I don't remember hearing about prior to yesterday). Another part of me thinks that's well and good, but you forget shit on the daily already and it doesn't seem super-likely that this strategy will go any way towards...making that better. You know what? There are way more than two wolves inside me.

Anyway. Some things lately of neutral provenance:

• Doing tarot pulls for if I do versus don't go to graduation, and the cards being kind of...unhelpful. Cards: "If you do go, then you will experience the high of celebration and the crash of being unable to focus on anything but the parts of the decision you regret. If you don't go, you will be resentful of the fact and feel constrained by life circumstance as per the usual." Y-yeah. I know. That's just, like, how my brain works. I could have told you all that. ...you got any actual clarity for me, or...? Perhaps there is some secret third option.
• No fear of hitting hours this week due to being at Site One for an extra day. Things are pretty much set up for next week group and 1:1 session-wise, so I just have to figure out the last week. I also have to determine how Site One wants their toolbox set up. Site Two's is kind of already in-process of getting set up, so that's fine. But otherwise I need to finish (not in order of priority) an interview synthesis, grading for two things, an abstract, a poster, and a Sway portfolio. Oh, and I guess feedback forms for two...three sites?
• Just trying to keep this total unicorn of a person in mind while I'm here in the home stretch. Also it's not a home stretch. It's an infinite series of innings! If I know anything about baseball. Which I don't. Unless that metaphor is about racing. You know what? I'm not looking it up. Because not only do I not know anything about baseball, I also know nothing about racing. Uh...here's a song about that.

[redacted]

I am. So tired. Of my brain. I don't want to feel this way. I really don't.

Twenty-six days 'til surgery.

Five days 'til S leaves for Cordova until...unsure how long?

Four days until I have to take the first full-length NBCOT practice exam.

Three days until L's last drum lesson.

Three labs left until the end of the semester.

Three and-a-half weeks left until I defend my capstone.

Two weeks left at capstone sites (not counting this one).

...there have been intermittent conversations lately about feelings. S's and mine. Nothing new on my end except for gradually increasing anxiety about postpartum. Postpartum was hell last time and (I feel) will be hell this time too. This tends to be dismissed by care providers, friend, spouse; you've got this! Cool cool cool. Love the confidence, still quite concerned about postpartum psychosis especially given *gestures broadly* all of this. "All of this" being in large part about S's difficulty emotionally supporting me as is, much less under...more stress.

That being said there is some ambivalence at play. I am highly concerned about his capacity to be a supportive co-parent and partner to me in situations of escalating stress, because any conversation I try to start about my feelings quickly turn into him talking about himself. And this isn't unexpected. It's just...who he is. It's just a bad setup all around, because I have a lot of trouble self-regulating lately (always?), am pretty BPDey at the best of times, and according to him I can't curate my tone or words in such a way as to not sound dismissive or patronizing. This morning he compared me to my father. I told him that I called the Crisis Hotline a week ago because I didn't feel like I had anyone else to turn to in that moment, and he was just like: "Yeah. Later that day I called [sponsor name] because I needed to talk to other people too." the undertone being that maybe I should try that. 

So I just stopped talking. Not in a silent treatment way (I don't think), just in a *concludes conversation, goes upstairs to do chores/cry/watch Girls5Eva* way. Which could be the same thing, I don't know.

I have other thoughts, but they are kind of a mess, to be honest. I need to stop now and get ready for lab.

Heartbreak Is One Thing. My Ego's Another.

Things are a lot better today. Sunshine. Sammich from a sammich shop (one of the few identifiable cravings I have). S addressing a little bit of the last five days’ nonsense this morning. Very nice dental hygienist this morning. So much so that I think I’m permanently switching to Fridays for dental cleanings. And now, waiting around at site 2! If no one shows up for this group I won’t evict the two men having a meeting in there at all. 

There are two things that OTs are kind of known for (I take it; to me the association was always pediatrics until I started digging), and they are cooking/baking and gardening. Those are two things that I'm not really about - at least not these days. I do remember a time when I used to bake and cook. Baking in my teens, mainly; cooking in my 20s. Gardening when I was a child, but mostly because my dad told us kids to go do it already and what were going to say - no? There have been a few forays since then but I mainly fail at those types of long-term systems maintenance things which probably means they're really good for me, actually, and I should do them the most. 

My sensory system, however, doesn't like them. There's a tool called the Sensory Profile (not creative, but very descriptive) and while it's mostly (in my experience) used for kids, you can use it for adults too and it tells you where you fall in relationship to a normed group of people your same age (it's not divided by gender, though) as regards four types of sensory processing styles. What are they? Thanks for asking! They're: sensory seeking, sensory avoiding, low registration, and sensory sensitivity and once you take the test you find out if you're much less, less, about the same, more, or much more like people in that normed group I talked about in relationship to each um...sensory processing style.

The thought is that if you know that information about yourself then you can kind of hack yourself into being higher functioning or just, you know, feeling better in the world, or (I suppose) requesting accommodations for yourself. It's not a perfect measure but it's the best one out there to my knowledge. Here's the thing though - I think there might be a relationship between sensory processing and addiction. And now that I'm at the end of my capstone I'm kind of out of time to explore that in-depth, but I do want to bring it into some of the interventions I'm doing one-on-one with people here at the end. Because what if someone scores...I don't know...Much More Than Others on sensory sensitivity. Wouldn't engaging in certain types of addictive behaviors or substances level that out? Or what if someone else scored Much Less Than Others on sensory seeking? If I were going forward with this much longer I'd probably start looking at that and try to design a large-scale study to see if there are any correlations between types of substance use/psychiatric diagnoses/sensory processing style.

So if anyone out there is looking for a capstone...there you go, and get on that IRB approval.

Not so great things:

- The dude throwing an almost-empty pack of lucky strikes at a woman on the sidewalk. Hey! Don’t do that.

- Dreams about my grandmother and how her friends were…shitty? Odd dream. She was on some sort of space cruise and I was trying to help her out mobility and ADL-wise, and her friends were just running laps around her and not even stopping to ask her how she was.

- During one of the last groups in which a person attended, he (the person) was talking about things and stuff and in the background, outside the window, someone was dumpster diving. I assume for needles (there is a needle exchange in this building)? Distracting.

Neutral things:

- Running into Sc, my ex (surprise!), at Site 1 a few days ago. Not negative, not positive, just A Thing. 'twas 12 (...damn) years ago since we dated and we're both professional af, so that's good. What a long. Ass. Time. Ago that was. 12 years, that is.

- Piecing together my final presentation for my degree. The process really...does work? Like, actually? And there are a lot of pieces of my project that seem kind of like they (the school) are just trying to get free labor from students, but that's kind of part of the deal with academia. Right? Right. As long as they approve the hours.

- H intermittently dropping down in my pelvis for fun and profit. Another mom at school pickup yesterday said that since I'm scheduled for a c-section anyway even if I go into labor early they should still give me a c-section and so not to worry about that. Hope she's right.

Just For Today

I couldn't tell you what the deal is today, just that there is one. A small recurring theme of the past five days has been stress + hormones + anxiety + S = meltdown/crying (usually in a restaurant). This morning so much so that I ended up calling the crisis hotline for the first time in my life. And I don't necessarily think that's a reflection on things being So Bad, more that I just absolutely wouldn't have permitted myself to ask for help in times past. But I'm allowed to. And so are you. We're allowed to.

And yes, okay, early morning was pretty good, but after that and for the above reasons, today is just...shot, pretty much. I'm trying to tease out what my part in all this is, and I think it's that I dysregulate so quickly. There's also the piece where if I am stressed it's important to me that S not add to the stress, which is inevitably what happens even when not meant. Blarg. Well. At least all this is probably good in terms of getting me primed to play the Wild Card role in the practicum this afternoon. *sigh*

• 1 missing item report filed for Disneyland
• 1.5 lectures watched
• .25 of the nursery tidied (sort of)
• 1 OB appointment attended (with S)
• 1 pickup order completed
• 1 lunch with S
• 1 meltdown in the car
• 1 brief conversation with a person on the crisis hotline

To do:

• call my insurance to see what hospital they want me to use even though there are only two options in town anyway because the front desk was hassling me about it 🤷
• chip away at my home administration to-do list because I have just enough executive function to do that; but I can't write coherently and feel too shit to listen to lectures while doing chores 🤷
• try to study for the NBCOT

Things I fucking hate, but it's just the way it is/the stress list:

• L will not be going to any summer camps this year because I will definitely not be able to send her and it's not a priority for S; I haven't told her yet because I feel like shit about it; but bad news doesn't age well, amirite?
• I don't think there's a way to cobra my benefits to extend through the summer and even if there were there's no way to add my dependents to my current insurance and S can't or won't apply for insurance through his job; and he makes too much money for us (me and the kids) to qualify for medicaid (if that's even still a thing); and also he won't send me his pay stubs, so I can't, like, followup with any government agencies or anything.
• I keep getting well-meaning referrals and ideas about places to go for mental health support when what I probably need is someone sitting next to me and doing it with me or for me - which isn't a cute look when you're 40 later this year but it is what it is.
• Handouts. Please stop giving me brochures and handouts. It's just doomed from the start and I can't know how to organize any more handouts.
• I probably will have to cancel going to graduation, and probably because of budgeting for postnatal doctor's visits for H due to all of the above nonsense with insurance.
• Post-partum wasn't easy the first time and it's not really looking any better this time around. At least, I don't feel that way today. Maybe tomorrow things will look better.

Things will be okay. Things are better than they have been.

Take it either from or off the top

No Kings protest today (take 3). Am I going? Not this time. I have a strict one parent at a time policy on activism and current events have done nothing to change my mind on the matter. 

34 (?) weeks today and little old ladies keep telling me that I look like I’m going to “pop”. Well, let’s hope not, Janice, because I am busy with shit and things that don’t even involve newborn preparedness but if you’re trying to express sympathy for my physical discomfort thanks, yes, I AM feeling pretty fucking physically uncomfortable. 

My latest big scary presentation went pretty well, and that’s good. Leads me to believe that I might, indeed, get my doctorate here soon. Take THAT, Belhaven. I guess? And the more groups I do the more comfortable I get so mission accomplished there! Everything else is just lagniappe. I am, unfortunately, not my best self (and haven’t been for the last 9 months), but I’m not really sure what that means anymore and am firmly camp just do the damn thing. Whatever the fuck it looks like. Like Melissa Joan Hart said. On Clarissa Explains It All.

Brief conversation this morning in which S had evidently not grasped that the current plan is to fly out 9-ish days post-c-section. He keeps gently advocating (versus aggressively steamrolling, so this is a huge improvement) for not going. He said that maybe could go without the baby? I said, what, no I can’t leave a baby 9 days after birthing it. That would just be incredibly bad. Then he said that he thought we were going 4 *weeks* after birthing which…still isn’t doable, so idk man. I am very aware that Shit Might Happen that makes it impossible to go to graduation but by god I am going to try. Even though it truly isn’t a good idea!  Short list of preventative things:

- airports are shut down because of government shutdown

- natural disasters (tons to choose from)

- something goes sideways with surgery or recovery with me or H

- L or S gets deathly sick

- mother-in-law has health emergency such that S can no longer come and somehow my mom isn’t able to step in

- some other variation on war

- some secret seventh thing

…and thats the way the news goes!

Copy That

 Where have I been? The short answer is: here. 

Between busyness, fatigue, and realizing there's only 4 weeks left in my capstone holy shit things are getting real and demanding to get wrapped up into little bows. I wish that I felt better. I wish I had more energy. I wish for many things (a la Sondheim), and yet. I'm here.

The interview that didn't happen did this week and was very successful (or as successful as transatlantic Zoom can be), and I got scads of great ideas. And now I want to move to the UK. Except, I guess, they have the same problems we do (or are fixing to), just with a bit of an accent. Oh, and the NHS. On the whole it doesn't seem like they have to fuck with CPT codes quite as much. But I'm not sure. That's not what were were there to talk about.

The person I interviewed happened to have some good information about a different concern that came up with a local chain (?) of assisted living homes where they're wanting some OT perspective on elders and addiction recovery. So that was nice, albeit not directly related to capstone; I think I can log it as research if nothing else. So now I might be visiting the most local site and offering suggestions. The main thing with that being that I will not physically be able to do that past about the 4-week mark. So I hope that all falls into place sooner than later, because otherwise I will very much not be available. So it goes. So so so. I say so too much. So.

But anyway, it's been sunny and beautiful and slightly less cold. Nobody seems particularly upset with me which is a massive win. Operation: Towel has enjoyed moderate success and I plan on layering another thing on top of it once we seem out of the towel woods (sometime in April). I'm at the stage of pregnancy discomfort where I can do things, but I will then be sore for A While after; for instance, I was asked to teach a short yoga class on Tuesday and I did it, but it wasn't pretty and I did feel gross and sore afterwards. Being almost done with the illness (it keeps hanging on) I'm planning on maybe going for a nice walk on a treadmill on Saturday and starting to ease back in that way. I'm a little concerned about getting enough volunteer hours for this one thing I was doing for school, but I'm also a little concerned about my capacity for doing shit full stop. Especially given that I am now somewhat unexpectedly grading two biggish things this weekend. And, like, I like grading, but it is time-consuming. And I really really want to convey that I want the feedback to support learning not make them feel bad about themselves so then it's word vomit everywhere and - you know what I mean, right?

Of course you do! Over and out.

But Time IS a Flat Circle, Tho'

 - Things are looking up today in no small part because at least the rest of the world is setting boundaries with the president. And somehow the second rescheduling of my airline tickets have resulted in even more refunds for me (????) and accidentally spending a half-day in Seattle. Ohhhhh noooo! Not Seattle! Whatever shall we do? Soak up the sea air and gawk at the sound while riding that giant ferris wheel? Uh oh.

- I hope I'm doing a good-enough job of not affirming or denying the fixed delusions of the people I come in contact with. I said yesterday that I feel safer at the inpatient psychiatric hospital I'm doing my capstone at than I do in the community - which probably made it sound like I find the population* distasteful. That's not the case. I feel safer because there are fewer variables in the hospital. There are infinite variables on The Outside. People who believe themselves to be a hundred percent oriented to reality who may not in very stimulating environments bumping up against people who have deep fear of mental illness and all the sights, sounds and dangers that go with that. Whereas the hospital? Everyone should at least sort of know how to interact in trauma-informed ways. There is a predictable pattern to the daily schedule and the environment is fairly predictable. Is it homey? No. Is it giving dorm room from hell? Yes. Is it still doing its best? Probably.

*And when I say "the population" I really mean: people like me and the people I love, honestly. Because I absolutely believe it to be a miracle/maybe an oversight that I haven't spent at least a little time in a similar facility. Life is hard. Society is fucked. Mental health isn't even on the back burner - it's in a cupboard somewhere and gathering dust. So. Yeah.

- Yesterday turned into a bit of a Hero's Quest (not really, actually) that involved rescheduling an appointment, a productive Microsoft Teams meeting, a doctor's appointment, half-listening to a synchronous online class amidst driving and Other Tasks because I cannot manage my time it is laughable that I ever tell anyone anything about how to do that effectively, driving to two pharmacies and stepping foot inside a grocery store. Oh, and lab in the evening.

- Now I'm sitting on Zoom waiting to see if the person I tried to schedule an interview with will actually show up. It's 12 minutes past start time and I have the free Zoom anymore, so I don't know if this is really going to pan out for me. Details that may be jamming me up: they're located in Scotland. Although I'm pretty sure I accounted for the time difference I *gestures at situation 1 in the chat*; they're probably busy and this was a somewhat last-minute scheduling ask; maybe they forgot; maybe they're proactively trying to troll an American - for which I don't blame them; also, running Zoom meetings gives me The Anxiety because I'm so sure I missed seven things that make me look like the dinosaur I am. *sigh* Anyway.

- This week has shaped up to be busier than expected (and it was expected to be pretty busy anyway). Things are picking up a little bit at Site 1 and I must now be an adult and come up with some resources for a different community site that has questions that are BAM right in the wheelhouse of my capstone project. I am volunteering/going to a local OT conference for the first time on Saturday, which I am excited about (and not questioning that excitement either - just rolling with it). And I have to present out on my topic on Tuesday which has very much turned into a *buckle up bitches here we go* level of detail, so I hope I can fit it into a half-hour and that it doesn't look/sound like trash. So that's all I'm planning on doing on Sunday except for a playdate possibly but only if that works out seamlessly.

- The energy I wish to embody for this upcoming presentation.

- Over and out.

If you do finger guns at the void, does the void do finger guns back?

Self-referential rant incoming - please ignore!

I hate that my brain is like this. Why does my brain struggle with scheduling so much when it's such a vital fucking skill? Why do I have to triple and quadruple check things only for them to still blow up in my face?

Would love to be able to blame my scheduling woes on literally anyone else. But no! It's me, just me. So now* if I want to go to graduation I will need to reschedule a surgical followup appointment (and they weren't happy about the spread for the first time - timeline being too short), reschedule airline tickets and a rental car and book an entirely new AirBNB and communicate with the other one about how lol actually we'll be there all day instead of just using it as a crash pad.

You know what? It'll be okay. There are worse things. I am capable of doing this. I just hate it, is all. It's quite triggering from a rest-of-my-life standpoint. /sigh

*Well, always, apparently - if I could just read a date straight /sigh

On the plus side I finally found an OT in the UK who actually works in addiction recovery and is willing to schedule time with me for an interview despite the US being responsible for a bunch of global shit such that maybe nobody should ever want to talk to me again. Which is a heck of a silver lining! ...which also involves what? Scheduling! ...and time differences.

Just a completely predictable week 9 of 14 menty b.

O! To be a cat.

 Feeling better today. Tried to get the most out of sleep last night, and I think I succeeded (well, as much as I ever do anymore). My cat spends a lot of time sleeping throughout the day, then gets the zoomies at night. After a little zooming around she crawls into bed with me and stands guard all night. This might be a combination of becoming night blind and me being the warmest (read: only) warm thing in the house. But she more or less does the same thing when S and L are home too. Which: they're coming home this afternoon! So my motivation has finally kicked in a bit and I'm doing some of the tidying I've been putting off. I know why it works that way; doesn't make it any less annoying, though.

The capstone nonsense continues. Despite notifying both capstone mentors (one via email, one verbally) that my midterm performance review was due from them on Monday, neither of them had turned it in as of yesterday. Texted them both to remind again and was met with no response from either. Site 3 has finally made overtures to list the dates of the groups in one place (but not the times despite my emailing this to them as well over two weeks ago) and both in a Facebook group with the lil' flyer I made. That's not nothing, I guess!

It does feel a bit like my processing abilities have been shut down...or put into sleep mode, maybe. My system is sort of rejecting the notion of coming to any sort of resolution as regards the different stressors I have going on at the moment. The immediate ones, the impending ones. The ones that I've only recently become aware of. Maybe that's for a private post (not that that's ever stopped me in the past; well - mostly).

The things I should do that my executive dysfunction is screaming about:
- I have three options to explore for psychiatric treatment.
- Renewing my passport.
- Studying for the boards more.
- Continuing with the writing parts of my capstone.
- Updating my resume, I guess?
- Figuring out my shit re: volunteering (I need something like 7 more hours before the end of the semester).
- Making a plan for tomorrow (dinner and a show with friends; it does happen sometimes!).
- Getting a present for one of the friends because I spaced their birthday on the day of?
- Contacting a pediatrician for the new kid.
- Scheduling with a pediatrician for L.
- Figuring out L's birthday.
- Setting up a nursery - in the same room with L.
- Project managing what could be a Bed Fiasco if both boys come up this summer.
- (Are both boys coming up this summer?).
- Getting a passport for L
- Spiritual practice of some sort.
- Get outside.
- Drink more water.
- Do taxes.
- Do some financial stuff that I've been putting off which are two-part and unrelated.
- Set up my Costco rebate.
- Ask my mother-in-law what she wants to do for her birthday.
- Make time to hang out with friends one-on-one.
- Set up playdates for L.
- Set up a kinesthetically-based extracurricular for L.
- Address the floor-towel situation.
- Figure out if there is a free internet browser I can download of Roku. Is there?
- Die of embarrassment because I don't really know what to tell the one friend who offered to set me up with a meal train postpartum. Who should she ask? Bestie, I have no damn idea. Not even being cute. Don't know. Love the thought.
- Watching Honey, Don't. No particular reason, just thought I'd throw that in there.

Okay, now that I have a list I guess I'll...keep avoiding it and go fold laundry, clean the upstairs bathroom and see about taking a quick shower before it's time to go to the airport.

Brain Fog Thicker Than Pea Soup

Of all the cleaning things I aimed to do this weekend, what I actually did was transform my bedroom into an oasis (yay) and vacuum the hall. I guess I got a little too relaxed as a result, though, because now I am sick. I suspect COVID or a sinus infection. All my COVID tests are expired to an extent such that the solutions are all dried up so I will hie me to the store this morning to get a brand new one.

So I worked from home yesterday and am taking the only medication that I am for-sure allowed during pregnancy to manage my symptoms: Tylenol. Yes, it's brand-name.

I felt bad about calling out from "work" yesterday, but I suppose it doesn't matter to anyone there very much. I'm there? Great. I'm not? Also great.

It's a little over the halfway point of capstone, though, and I'm kind of over working from home. This is all very predictable. And I'm kind of over the predictable nature of it. Maybe that's just the COVID talking.

Anyway. Attempting sleep, pain management (like I said), working on slide decks, and watching Agents of Mystery (Korean reality challenge show that's giving X-Files - worth checking out),  My Favorite Murder (what it is; the podcast but filmed from the side) and Roz Hernandez: The Haunted Doll (Roz is a trans drag queen who hunts ghosts in haunted hotels, but doesn't sleep in them; the episode I saw was filmed in Jerome and damn it's -18 in my neighborhood right now so - yes I'm missing the high desert 15 years later) in-between. 

Brain fog is making coherence challenging, but sleep was easier last night (if stressful, what with being full of dreams about trying to get three kids to sleep in separate places during a sleepover), so I'm going to finish my coffee, listen to the news (cringe), and soldier on I guess.

File Under: Things That Work Until They Don't

Today is day two of Spring Break: The Grownup Version. S and L have flown to Disneyland and it's starting snowing in earnest (again) here. I am missing them, and also enjoying the little perks of being a temporary hermit. The quiet. The sleeping by myself. Monopolizing the television to watch Million Dollar Secret, do homework without distraction, and begin chipping away at un-fucking the house. The cat is happy to be left alone. At 31 weeks pregnant, I am happy not to be standing in line and doing way more socialization than my nervous system likes.

I am less thrilled that I will probably need to shovel at some point today, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. Even less thrilled that we're at war again (still?), and that all the Christian nationalists are getting everything they ever dreamed of. Big motherfucking uh-oh right there. And that there were ~11 ICE agents at the airport in Anchorage, apparently, while my husband and daughter were going through security.

However far I get in un-fucking the house, I've been trying to think of ways to mitigate the fuckery once S and L get back. And I suppose I should go about it one thing at a time, because change tends to happen in small, measurable (actionable! Relevant! Time-bound!) steps. I don't exactly remember how many days it's supposed to take for a new habit to stick, but I think it's something between 30 and 90 days? So anyway, I'm making a list of things I want to address one-at-a-tedious time until forever, I guess. Or until I hit postpartum and am hanging on by my lil' fingernails. But I imagine the first one to emerge will be Leaving Towels Places.

Do you Leave Towels Places? Please, for the love of god - do not. A towel's natural habitat is hanging up on a towel bar, wadded up in the laundry basket or clean and folded in the linen closet. Not damp and strewn in your bed. Not damp and strewn on the floor. Not strewn anywhere, really. We have a truly astonishing number of towels when they're all laundered and folded and literally none the rest of the time. After 10 years of this I am definitely not cool girl about it anymore. I can't know how to hear any more about towels! Ahem. Might have bottled this up for too long. Maybe.

So anyway. Address that for ~30 days, reevaluate and jump on the next thing. Are there things that are more important? Probably. But I'd like some evident change, please.

Had a followup with my psychiatric NP and she floated the idea of increasing my bupropion from 150 mg to 300 mg. In a subsequent followup with my OB she was like, "So, you're just taking two instead of one now, right?" Oh. I guess I could do that. My brain is typically just like: no. Finish the current protocol and then start on the new one. But, no. Just do the change thing why not? It's fine. Silly brain.

Randomly ran into K at the gym by my house and it's was nice to see her. Not the same as it once was, but nice to catch up. Lots of "if you need anything reach out I'm here" and nodding. Yup, yup. I am for whatever combination of reasons not great at doing that and never have been, but okay. I did used to have a little chart (with stickers!) so I could rotate through reaching out to friends and spending time with them because I was so shit at it. Maybe I should institute that again, but incorporate all the playdate shenanigans L requires while I'm at it. Because: limited amount of that type of social engagement spoons. 

Okay, time to study for the NBCOT a bit, then go run a group that absolutely no-one will show up to (in a snowstorm!), work out and then go to the bookstore with V. Oh, and shovel perhaps? Because I'm cosplaying as a Real Person today.

Afk? Lol, never.

The dreams have been intense and immersive lately. Hm. Probably the moon. They don't portend anything particularly catastrophic. No, no. The news does that.

Have you watched Lost Women of Alaska on HBO Max? It's pretty good. It's very sad. True. And- I hope more people see it, because it's any important topic. But also maybe don't watch it if you're maxed out on Sad Shit That Happens to Women. Which some days - I am. 

It occurred to me recently that I might go into early labor. I have no reason to think this. The fetus has been behaving herself like any good stowaway and it doesn't really seem like it. Because it's not something I really can predict I did what I sometimes still do (and used to do a lot). Pull tarot cards! However it's hard to really trust the answer - and not even just for the regular reasons - but because every time I try to pull cards for the fetus The Hermit comes up. And then the 4 of Wands. Hermit, 4 of Wands, Hermit, 4 of Wands. It's kind of funny.
Me: <<specific question>>
Her: Hermit
Me: I know, but what about <<specific question>>?
Her: Oh! lol. 4 of Wands.
Me: Okay, but I said - 
Her: Hermit. Definitely Hermit.

And so on. 

I'm properly annoyed with Site 3 of my capstone now and, although the circumstances that make this so are probably unavoidable and impersonal, I still find myself with The Feels because my nervous system fucking hates ambiguity. What do I mean by that? Good question. I'm supposed to be running groups at this site, but this has been made difficult because: the site is in a secured building which I do not have access to without An Adult, there is only one Adult who works at the site and they do not work in a terribly predictive pattern which in turn is due to life circumstances that cannot be avoided. The site has not advertised the series at all with the exception of putting one flyer (flier?) up in the window of a neighboring nonprofit, and there seems to be some political shit happening between the municipal and state branches of this site which make me wonder if this was even a good idea in the first place? I am pivoting and recording videos for them to use which I may then just post online for the helluvit (without my face because the [presumed] 'tism is pretty visible on camera), so things are still happening, but I am still just.... I don't know. It's hard for me to hold 2+ eventualities in my head at a time, if that makes sense? Like, physically uncomfortable? Like the suspense of if someone might show up is worse than if I know nobody's going to or I know somebody is? There's also the remote possibility that this situation might be exacerbated by the Adult having been let go from the same burlesque company I am (still, somehow) in and maybe having some big feelings about that? I am neutral as fuck about the whole thing, but dang do I know how that feels. It's probably not that last, burlesqu-y factor. But if it is - wild.

We went swimming on Saturday and it was packed. Like: a public swimming pool in the 90s packed. But we soldier on, so we got in the warm pool and I start floating around like the manatee I (proudly) am. Then, L swims up to me, "I think there's poop in the pool." Oh shit. So I look and it's a soft maybe. It's not floating exactly, it's smaller than a bean larger than a grain of rice. We decide to tell the lifeguard. Nobody wants it to be poop. Not on a Saturday (the day of birthday parties). After a few more inspections, me attempting to dive for it but being unable to grasp it with a glove on the lifeguard gets a net and scoops it up. Guess what? Yes. It's poop. Clear the pool! We have both ruined Saturday and are poop heroes! It be like that sometime.

The paragraph about S: as of Monday he achieved being one year sober from alcohol 🎊. The day before that he sat down to tell me (as I was playing Stardew Valley - honestly not a bad time to choose) that he has actually been back on marijuana since October. This kind of tracks...but I truly didn't know. And I have some complex feelings about that that I'll be processing for a while. The second thing he told me (later in the day on Sunday) was that he's now okay with me having male friends, in part because he's realizing how much he's benefitted from having female friends over the past year. 

So that's quite a mixed bag of news. I'm extremely happy about the first and last parts of all that but, as always, concerned about the longterm veracity of it. Is this truly a permanent shift in perspective? If not, am I prepared to deal with the whiplash? Because I absolutely do not intend on waffling around on this like a damn...waffle. One of the reasons I was cited was that he's noticed I'm having a hard time right now (true; see all those journal entries), and I'm not leaning on my in-person friends/having a hard time being a friend to my in-person friends (also true, bit of a chronic problem, though, less circumstantial than it may seem - also pretty much entirely my fault) so perhaps it's not so bad to have a wider support system. So my question is: if one or both of those things were to change would this offer (?) be retracted? Am I being told about the marijuana on the eve of his alcohol sobriety anniversary because "She can't be mad at me about that, because I'm a year alcohol sober!"?

So, as always, things be complicated. But maybe...just maybe...things are looking up in March. At least, aside from current events. <<brief thousand-yard stare>> Ahem. But I do notice an immediate shift in how I feel about life having been told that "Hey - it's sanctioned for you to be yourself, have autonomy, volition, etc.". Not that permission is supposed to come from anyone outside myself, mind you. But circumstances being what they have been - it's an improvement.

Okay. TTYL (goddess willing)!

What do you MEAN Mavis Beacon isn't an actual person?

- I had coffee with E a few days ago and I noticed that I had a lot of complex feelings about that. L wanted to tag along even though it was made very clear that it would be grownups only (other than her) and she might have to bring activities to keep herself occupied. She agreed and it turned out to be a good thing she did because it came about that whipped cream shenanigans created a situation which allowed me to see (mini) crisis problem-solving in action and she insisted on playing Jenga which brought to light some other things. Ahem. Anyway. It sounds particularly cunty to say this, but these days E only asks me to lunch or coffee to ask me about K. We are friends, but I can't really say that we have anything much in common to talk about or do than that and there hasn't been movement on either side to expand the situation. E and K are estranged. On this occasion, E asked me to see pictures of her (estranged) grandchildren on Facebook. I didn't feel comfortable with this and have, besides, removed Facebook from my home screen because I am a doom-scroller yup that's what I am. But anyway, as always, I am concerned about E and this time the reasons are these:

• She offered to pay for my order despite a text conversation less than ten minutes earlier in which I'd asked if she wanted something and she'd responded that she did and indicated what coffee beverage that was. Possible confounding factor: a friend of hers happened to be there at the same time. Fronting because that's the social expectation and we can't deviate from the script? Maybe. But she did repeat the offer 1x despite my telling her, again, that no, I already paid for it. There's also the other confounding factor which is that I am very frequently misunderstood* by almost everyone so there's that 🙄.
• She appears to be unable to remember anything about my life that doesn't 1:1 correspond with her life (e.g., she cannot remember what I am studying or the degree I am getting despite this not having changed in ~5 consecutive years if we count the time I spent getting prerequisites despite our having a conversation about it consistently every ~6 months, cannot remember about my MIL's neurological diagnosis despite this 100% coming in conversation a few times before, but she can remember our single conversation about S and addiction and all that).
• Her difficulty with conversation that deviates from a previously-established type of script (e.g., saying the same things she's always said to/about me; unable to respond to verbal prompts of escalating specificity to assist in identifying another friend she has; difficulty answering questions specific to exact towns she's going to on an upcoming trip - and don't get me wrong I, too, have difficulty with these things due to depression and CPTSD and so-forth. I think they're a red flag for me too, honestly. I'm just kind of on the lookout for dementia/late-onset Alzheimers because it runs so rampant in my family).
• Hand tremors. This is new. And there are approximately a million reasons why someone might be experiencing hand tremors (including "We don't know!" and Parkinson's - but the volume of her voice isn't reduced and I don't see a shuffling gait so that's good), but onset appears to have been fairly recent (since August) and she doesn't seem to be concerned about it. It did profoundly affect her ability to play Jenga, however, and she wasn't really picking up what I was putting down as far as maybe using a pencil as an adaptive tool since she says that she has no trouble holding a paintbrush.

*sigh* Anyway. I drove her home (since she'd walked to the coffee shop) and she spent a little time talking about barriers to her peace of mind at home and that was kind of that. I think she does want to spend more time with The Youth, but I also think she's kind of more looking for surrogate daughters/grandchildren than anything and I don't know that I think that would necessarily be best for L. She's got two pairs of grandparents here anyway and it's hard enough for me to coordinate splitting time between them fairly. Plus I don't want to feed into any type of people-pleasing bullshit for L that I can easily recognize. And I just kind of feel like...I've got enough of that going on with my own biological mom to manage. And I can't really be showing her pictures of her grandchildren when it goes against what K has established as an expectation - even if I wouldn't say K and I are at all close anymore.

*Speaking of being misunderstood, have you seen the Emo Realtor from Portland on Instagram? Worth a quick search, maybe. Hits the spot sometimes.

- Chipping away at Love is Blind: Ohio here and there; it's less that I like it and more that it demands nothing of me. And I want to be able to have thoughts and participate in conversations if/when they come up. Every once in a while I'll see something and realize: Oh no. That's me. I have said that and done that. And cringe heavily and self-reflect for a bit. I also recently had to do a presentation on an assessment called the Life Balance Inventory (LBI) so I am a little crossed up re: LIB and LBI. I could have made a lil' joke about it during the presentation, but I am le tired these days even though I am much more lax about the caffeine thing this pregnancy. 100-150 mg/day @ 29 weeks. Woo? Woo.

- Remember the stock market crash of 1929? Yeah. I am concerned about 2029. Based on nothing in particular - except for everything. You know? Everything.

- I am tired of formatting slide decks, but I need to clock at least 37 hours a week, and it helps me get there. So I am trying to channel my inner middle-schooler who was super into graphic design in the 90s. Other things she was super into: Wheel of Time and elaborate fan casting of the same, filk, etiquette books from like the 70s, Cadfael and Agatha Christie murder mysteries, P.G. Wodehouse, Douglas Adams, Star Trek novels, Star Wars novels, writing bad fiction about a family that lived on another planet or in space or something called the Syr Daryas, writing bad fan-fiction about Jonny Quest the 90s version and JAG of all things, the Golden Age of Hollywood, The Pretender with Andrea Parker and that one guy, The Avengers with John Steed and Emma Peel and, of course, bridal magazines. The Mac shareware game sampler CDs were pretty lit also! I was never smart enough for Myst, though. Maybe these days. ...maybe not 👀👀

Year of the Horse (neigh)

• Vague emo/BPD thoughts that should be therapized: I just don’t want to keep losing ground like this. One step forward, a thousand steps back. If every truth I have sounds like a criticism, not really sure what the point is? Keep my mouth shut and my vulnerabilities to myself. I’ll get it someday. 
• I still have my library card number memorized.
• There was a point at which I was worried that I wouldn't be hired for a shelving job at the library here because I'm so terrible at returning books on time. I thought they'd look at my account and be like: nope. Doesn't have her shit together. No shelving job for her! Reader, they hired me anyway. I decided not to take the job because it didn't come with health insurance and I felt responsible maintaining it for S. I wonder how different my life would have been if I had. I'd probably be a librarian by now. And that wouldn't be so bad. Or would it? Unclear. T-minus 3 months away from my clinical doctorate.
• I do strongly believe that libraries/librarians are going to save us all. As a matter of fact maybe I should have tried to do the publicly-available free OT series I've been trying to do with site 2 at the library instead. Because they just haven't had the bandwidth to publicize the ish I'm doing/trying to do (to my knowledge) at all. Which is understandable for a variety of factors, but frustrating. One of my mentors has said that as long as I'm doing my part that's all that matters (for the grade). But it's still annoying.
• <<rant>> Fresh on my mind due to convos with one of L's friend's parents yesterday: the school district is on the rocks here, and that's fairly predictable. They haven't increased the base student allotment (I think that's the term) since about ten years ago, and have been shutting down/threatening to shut down schools for the past three years. At L's former school they're eliminating three teaching positions and that doesn't work for the structure of the school at all. It's all combined grades with one teacher per classroom anyway and highly dependent on parent involvement. Oh, they're also talking about going with a "regional model" (?) for school nurses which...doesn't work. Like at all. From a safety standpoint. At L's current school in Fall of last year alone they had three incidences in which it was needed to call for a damn ambulance and how are you going to have a K-12 with no school nurses. Put all the med management and shit on the teachers? The only reason that kind of worked at the child development center I worked at was through a bunch of monitoring, having two teachers per classroom at any given time, and specific training including maintaining CPR certification and a med administration course. Oh, and it was at a hospital so there was that extra layer of security. Is the district going to cough up for any of that? No? At L's current school they're also going to be adding four children per classroom and eliminating the security position should nothing change budget-wise. And like, I'm sure it's hard/bad everywhere except for New England and the PNW (maybe), but damn, Alaska. Why do you hate kids so much? <</rant>>
• Other things that are lowkey stressing me out in that looming kind of way: 
• my school changing my graduation date after I've bought tickets to Omaha; by one day, but that one day was...impactful. I sorted it out, but still!
• not having summer camps sorted out - or even really knowing if I can afford to send L to summer camp this year? Assuming S is going to say sending her to summer camp is stupid?
• having to push back my c-section date by three days because: weekends. Is she even going to stay in that long on her own? She feels...big. Although that would put her on Star Wars Day so that's kind of cool. I would feel much more joyous about that at a different time in my life. Hopefully Past Clara can appreciate it.
• Epstein/Trump everything
• ICE everything
• Boards - which I am taking in late June. Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhh.
• Job hunting; this should be a huge issue, but I am torn between betting on PSLF being a thing and prioritizing applying at those places, and the potential for free daycare. Save ~$24,000 over the course of 5 years and be locked in at one place (assuming everything else stays stable - which I actually don't) and then start the 10-year PSLF process meaning 15 years of paying on student loans or eat the cost and potentially be closer to PSLF if that's even still a thing at that point if I'm even still in the US at that point.

Two Paragraphs At a Time

L sometimes surprises me with her oddly realistic take on things, although maybe it's not so odd really. She exclaims about her classmates saying they can be anything they want to be when they grow up. What if those jobs aren't available when they grow up, she wonders? What if too many people have that job already? What if you don't make enough money doing that job? ...and then other times she does not seem to comprehend that goods and services cost money and mom does not make shit tons of that. Especially at the moment.

Recently my parents made a pilgrimage down to Soldotna for my godmother's funeral...memorial? Remembrance of life. It was sort of also for my godfather who had died a few years earlier. Which, my first thought is: even in death she can't have a whole damn memorial service to herself? Jesus. Characteristically, I only found out about both the death and the service as they were leaving. I think it's okay. Oddly, although I've been living a scant four hours away from Soldotna for past 14 years I only visited them once. Differences in philosophy? Opinion? Religion? They were part of my formative years (in Texas) and kind of one of the reasons I moved to Alaska in the first place (in the sense that they planted the seed of possibility), but that's as far as it extended. My parents said that of their two children only their son was involved in the funeral because he and his sister had had a falling out about my godmother's end-of-life care. Well. Okay, then. That's what mental rigidity yields, I suppose.

Happy Hearts Day

Written yesterday while sitting in the lobby of Alaska Women's Clinic and waiting for my glucose test blood draw. There's this viscous, sweet liquid that you have to/get to drink around 27 weeks in which they tell you if you have gestational diabetes or not. We'll see! I had all these plans to eat protein this morning and make damn sure I pass the test (although it probably does not work this way), but I had a Zoom meeting and have to look presentable for the rest of the day and make breakfast and pack lunch for L so it just didn't pan out. I ate what I normally ate: oatmeal with peanut butter and collagen with black coffee. Hopefully it's fine? We'll see.

My parents travel between Alaska and Texas at least once per year, and when they're in Texas they stay with one of my dad's old friends, K. I vaguely remember K from growing up. You know how it is: they stand around talking to your dad, you're friends with their kid, and that's about it. He didn't make a particular impact on me, I just know that I got in trouble (kind of) because I told his oldest daughter that Santa Claus didn't exist when I was five and she was three or so. Over the years, my parents would kind of talk trash about his wife at the dinner table (they were constantly talking trash about people and it stressed me out then and really impacted me), and eventually they got divorced. At one point, when I was in college, my parents mentioned in passing that the daughters had come out with allegations of sexual abuse against K, and wasn't that terrible? Not that the daughters were sexually abused, but that they were accusing their dad of such a thing - and wasn't it terrible that his ex-wife was turning them against him? God forbid they engage in reflection about the possibility that their friend might be ill in this way. No, automatic disbelief of the children. And they still stay with him. They've recently bought land from him. And the invited their other set of grandchildren to visit on his farm. He's estranged from all but one or two of his children. And truly? I don't really know what happened Of course I don't. But I don't automatically think children are lying about something like that.

I'm holding on too tight - to my 23 open browser tabs

The vibe, she shifts between straight-up forgetting important things, feeling oddly all right, and feeling the tiredest I’ve ever been.

I can typically only do three things per day. This includes things like going to the grocery store. Work only counts sometimes, though. Sometimes it's all right and I can do three things plus work. Other times work is one of the things. Lately, though, I can usually only do two things per day. This might look like: inpatient psych rotation and life administrative paperwork in the morning or going to the gym for a tight 30. Sunday was a little better than usual. I managed humanist church (and had three whole-ass conversations! With real people!), light housework, and taking my mom out for her birthday dinner.

It's kind of tough hanging out with my parents lately. Between non-conversations about safe topics, them subtly disparaging my parenting and eating habits, and my not really wanting to talk about fieldwork because they definitely think they Know Everything about mental illness* and mental health **...and my reluctance to hear it...it gets pretty quiet pretty fast.

*It's a result of not being aligned with God and His plan, dontchaknow.

**Trick question! Mental health isn't real. Also bodily health isn't real. You're powered strictly by the Spirit of God, silly!

I'm trying a new thing where the footnotes aren't way at the bottom of the page. Like it? Me either.

Other things: it's five days late, but happy birthday to T! I don't have much to add to that. Just: if you're reading this, I thought about you and tried to send all the good vibes your direction. <confetti emoji>

I am a little bit zombie-fied lately, but things are happening (in slow motion, but still). It's hard to force myself to focus, prioritize, stare at the screen for 4+ hours and write, but it was a little better today. In part because my task du jour is making a lil' manual for the year one students for their respective orientations at the inpatient psych hospital and I sure do love doing that kind of thing. Here is a dictionary! Some acronyms! Who to contact when! A little schedule! Some items of interest! The blood of secretaries runs in my veins, what can I say?

Speaking of inpatient psych, the hardest thing so far has been motivating myself to transition between the rehab suite and the units to do things with patients individually. It's kind of like the difference between someone showing up at your house and you having to go to a party, I think? The most anxious-making things about 1:1 OT to me so far is the getting-to-know you period and the just not knowing of the person and the circumstances. This is kind of already taken care of in outpatient and mobile outpatient (and, I assume, home health), but less so in schools and inpatient rehab and psych. Nobody's going to show up for an appointment at a certain time, I have to go to them and/or ask them to come and I'll probably be pretty good at that by the end of this rotation, but for now - my god. The social anxiety. I'm going to have to reframe that somehow. Hm.

Also: there's a rec therapy kind of...room...attached to the rehab suite, and there's a bathroom attached to that which is accessible to patients during groups and that sort of thing. I know for a fact that someone goes in and "cleans" it every morning, but for at least 1 week there's been a single booger stuck to the wall above what I'd guess to be someone's average sightline just to the right of the door. There's a single strand of hair just hanging out on the sink too which hasn't been touched in 2 days and counting. I suppose I should just clean them, but I am curious. How long will it take for someone else to notice? Has someone else noticed and they're just playing at the same game I am? <<in the style of Carrie Bradshaw>> At the end of the day, aren't we all just thinking, "snot my problem"? <</Carrie Bradshaw>>

Working on my ABS

There's a line from Glengarry Glen Ross: "Always be closing." They're salesmen and that's generally good advice if you're a salesman, I guess. I somehow conflate that with the phrase, "Always be selling." and consolidate that to the acronym ABS in my head. There was one co-worker I used to have at Sbux, and she was pretty great so we all got into the habit of being very complimentary towards her (think things like, "I like your hair!" "G is so great - they're so good with customers!" "You don't even have to ask, G already did it!") - as you do. But she liked to talk about how she wished she were fit (she already was), and was one of the very few people who actually made samples during her shift. So I started having the recurring thought that I should say, "G's always working on her abs, to be honest - because she always be sampling!" (if the opportunity arose), and then explaining the tangential connection to Glengarry Glen Ross. And although the opportunity did arise many many times over the course of over a year, I never did. Why? Lack of executive function, probably. And anyway, that's one of the reasons I suspect I have some form of attention deficit.

Sleep has been alternating between ~7 hours per night and ~9 hours per night, but about every other day I wake up between 3 and 4 AM. Fun times!

L's school is cancelled today, because of freezing rain and ice. This is the...third snow day of the year? Which means they'll want to extend the school year. Safety first and all that, but you'd think there'd be a contingency plan in place. Like, a learning from home day. But also: we have an enormous backlog of homework to anyway. So maybe I shut my mouth and we just work on that.

Today is my designated "work from home" day, so school being out has disrupted approximately nothing, which is nice, and I went to Costco yesterday so we're pretty well set on food and that.

Lately L's been going through some things that make me remember how tough it was to be seven. I'm glad she feels comfortable enough to tell me when she's sad and what she's sad about. The self-doubt is real (as in: should we have switched schools?). And I hope I'm right. And I hope she understands someday. And I hope it doesn't all have to blow up as a result of national politics. But it might. 

Anyway. Seven. Hard.

Not a Good Timeline

Do you remember that cheesy SciFi show from the 90s? Sliders? They'd use a wormhole to travel between parallel universes/timelines trying to make it "home", which I guess would have been Bush's America in the 1990s. Anyway. Do you ever think about switching timelines? How nice it would be to slide from one to the next?

Because this is not a good timeline; Renee Good, Alex Pretti. Oh, and everyone else and everything else that's happening. It is ridiculous that the situation is playing out via True Crime Rules (horrible things happen to people everyday but nobody seems to give two shits until the white parent of three gets killed or the white ICU nurse gets killed). Truly no recourse would ever be enough to make up for all that's happened. And it's hard to feel hopeful. And yet, I hope for safety.

Things that don't matter, but oh well the questions from last time:

• Why are you so afraid of hearing "no"?
• Probably because I feel like it undermines my sense of worth. 
• Even if you feel like you're the only one working on your environment most of the time, what, exactly, is so bad about that?
• Not that much, I guess. The main problem is that I'll never really be able to catch up because even if it were all I did, following the mess around like a human Roomba, (it feels like) nobody else picks up after themselves and it's super-disheartening. This also just doesn't feel like a big problem today. Not with world events being what they are. Until they create sensory overload layered atop the Big Things we're all thinking about.
• Is it time to think seriously about moving somewhere else (this winter has been rough)?
• Yes. More and more and more and more it feels like leaving the country is the only option. It's all very well to talk about staying and trying to organically change systems...but that only works if the systems work. And, at the moment, I'm not so sure there will even be midterm elections, much less elections further out than that.

In the interim I'm just trying furiously to do the things coming at me next and drag my gaze a little further into the future depression or no. Like: apply for graduation (bitter laugh), schedule and attend the c-section class, do the homework, make sure the kid is fed and loved, get sleep, research passports, fold the clothes, bathe, eat a food group every two hours so you don't cry, drag your ass to Costco; schedule the playdates, etc.

Snow is blanketing the city again; coffee is not doing its job; my cat is. Time to fold the aforementioned clothes and start edging my way towards the inpatient psychiatric hospital site. <3

EITHER call your friends to play OR lay me aside

 I'm still depressed. I have been for a while. I'd like to blame someone else for this. (I don't really have anyone else to blame for this.) I am failing. Not by the numbers, but by motivation. 

There was a time, as recently as postpartum with L, that I would self-soothe by imagining how I wanted things to be. I had ways I wanted to be. Things I wanted to do. I had goals. I thought about ways to make my little home better. I had little ambitions. I felt this sense of looking forward to things. I haven't felt that way in a while.

Part of me is compassionate about this. Of course, it says. You're burned out. You've had a really bad few years. You're accomplishing things on paper, yes, but your system needs a reset and you don't have the wherewithal to do it right now. But will I ever? The trouble is, you think you have time. In the positive ways. In the not-so-positive ways. Time passes extremely fast, now that I'm almost 40. 

And I feel like I talk about it incessantly, but I feel like there are these cycles that I get swept up in - and I'm sure most people do. The ones I'm the most worried about and saddest about are the postpartum cycle, the early childhood cycle, the middle childhood cycle, and perimenopause. How am I to get myself out from underneath these goddamn cycles? Oh, and the state of the world at large. There's that, too.

S is going through something that is beautiful and part of the start of his own cycle of rebirth. Rebirth is only exciting for a little while; it's a little bit like infatuation or limerence or a crush or something like that. The change is positive and thrilling, but then, eventually, you feel like shit again. You just do. Due to life circumstances, not feel rewarded enough for the sacrifices you're making or the things you're going through. It's tough, I know. 

Everything feels so far away. I can't touch it. I feel like I'm the worst parent in the world because I can't bring myself to Do the Things I know I need to do. There was a time I'd make charts and followthrough with them (for a little while, anyway); where I'd try to make sure the boys and L had fulfilling things to do outside of school and really push helping them in school and try to make enriching activities happen 2-3 times a week and now I feel like I can barely get through a day. And there's not all that much to get through in a day, really. Almost everything feels really futile. The dishes, the laundry, physical pain, motivating myself to go to the fucking gym, the transitions between x activity and y activity. And I'm already on a depression medication. This isn't as bad as it could be, probably. The road to hell is paved in...lack of followthrough?

But, has it ever really been different? Maybe I was just more hopeful when I was younger. And now, because I've just experienced so much uh...redirection of expectation...I can't make myself pretend anymore. That things will look more like they "should". That things will "get better". But...they are better in some ways. And no worse than they've ever been in others. I do see that. 

And I also see that although the girl in pictures from 16+ years ago looks happier and healthier, she...wasn't. I do miss her, although I'm concerned any optimism she had is dead or so dormant I don't know if I can really reawaken it in this lifetime. 

Questions for myself:
- Why are you so afraid of hearing "no"?
- Even if you feel like you're the only one working on your environment most of the time, what, exactly, is so bad about that?
- Is it time to think seriously about moving somewhere else (this winter has been rough)?

Three questions are enough. Maybe I'll work on those next time. Oh, and I'm still working on that name post. It's just - I'm going to delete it once Ms. Thing is born for obvious reasons so I don't want to have to comb back through a backlog of sEvErAl.

Okay. Time to psych myself up to shovel the driveway while contemplating group protocols. Because I couldn't get my damn care in the driveway last night. Man have those chickens come home to roost. Anyway, have a good day! 

Wake Up Dead (wo)Man

I know what I said last post (and I'm still going to do it), but other topics seem more important at the moment.

These include: how damn cold it is, Schrodinger's earring, and fucking meetings, man.

How Damn Cold It Is: It's edging on Fairbanks-level cold. Just edging. But that's enough! Too much, arguably. The closest weather station to me is on Weather Underground is reading -24 degrees Fahrenheit. And some things that happen to me when it gets this cold are, in no particular order, overall malaise (feeling shitty), a primal need to sLeEp (hard to wake up, hard to think, hard to do anything), and anxiety about my car starting. I had a roommate at one point who used to start her car every X number of hours when working overnight shifts at the hospital when it got teens-below-zero, and I've been racking my brain trying to remember what the number was. Six? Three? Online opinions seem to differ slightly, but the general consensus is just starting it will do more harm than good, so drive it once a day for 20-30 minutes to keep it Gucci. Unless your battery is just bad, in which case: you have bigger problems. S, being from North Pole, had me start it this morning anyway, and I will have to do An Outing to pick up L from school this afternoon, so that should that <dusts off hands>.*

Schrodinger's Earring: I presume I will not figure out umlauts in blogger before publishing, so I apologize and - yes. I know. So I got my ears pierced in mid-August to show L what it's like to get your ears pierced. This ended up not working out the way I'd hoped because pediatricians are a little more like Claire's when it comes to piercing than a piercing studio, but in any case I got little titanium moon-shaped studs and that was fine. They look like this except black, and I never changed them out because I think that part of my brain (the accessorizing part) has gone on permanent vacation. I'm a fidgeter because of course I am, and was fidgeting with my left earring while watching Physical 100 a couple of nights ago. I fidgeted kind of hard, I guess, and the back of the earring slipped out. Okay, no big deal. I pick it up and look for the front. Except I can't find the front and now there seems to be a mass in my left earlobe. Great. I am now convinced that the earring front has slipped inside my earlobe. I am not as freaked out about this as I would have been in my 20s. I make the damn urgent care appointment and just...don't sleep on my left side. My sacrum is behaving itself a little better, so this is not really a big whoop. Maybe just a medium one. The next day is a blizzard/white-out driving conditions kind of day with record snowfall, etc. However. The show must go on! So off I go on a 20-minute drive that actually takes 40 minutes for a nice PA that wasn't even supposed to be there that day, all Clerks style, to lidocaine and incise** my left earlobe and dig around for a bit. 

This was all pretty expected. Guess what was unexpected, though. Go ahead. Don't read on! Think about it for exactly ten seconds. Okay. She rummaged around for a few minutes and said either it wasn't there or she couldn't find it. She said there was an infection and I guess she removed that, but - no earring. I'm not 100% sure she's right. But I wasn't going to make her body horror my ear any more than she already had, because:
1) Who knows? Maybe I'll find the earring front under or in the couch or something and then feel like I was acting the delusional fool.
2) Urgent care is not a surgical...um...auditorium thing. This isn't really probably what she went to school for if we get into needing to do full-on plastic surgery. I mean maybe she has a secret passion for that but I sure don't and no judgement if you don't either.
3) Apparently the type of earring I had was implant grade anyway, so if it doesn't get (more) infected then maybe it doesn't matter?
4) They for sure don't have an x-ray at that urgent care location and that's probably the least intrusive way to find out for sure either way.

...so yeah! Fun little thing I now have to remember and explain at all future medical appointments or surgeries. I may or may not have an earring stuck in my left earlobe! Why? What do I mean? *sigh*

Fuck Meetings, Man: I only kind of mind meetings. I do get anxieties, though, which run the gamut from: does my hair look alright? (No, it doesn't. But also: nobody cares! And that's such a relief if I'm honest.) Is this the right meeting link? Am I even really a person at all? What is life? I also like a paper trail because I hella misunderstand things, and it is beyond frustrating to ask directly for someone's resume >4 times and/or dates for A Thing I Need To Know About with no written words addressing those things and end up at: let's just make a meeting. Bestie, please. Just. Do. The. Thing. I will meet with you anyway, I swear. I will buy you coffee and a croissant! But a girl has needs (not like that***)! I know I am as or more guilty of shit like this than not, and it's especially annoying that I just apparate after an extended period of silence with a gazillion questions. I know, I know, I know. Woo. Okay!

Time to do more SUD training while huddling indoors next to a heating pad. 

*I keep meaning to name my car and then forgetting and nothing really feels super-right. Maybe her name is Myrtle Moo? I think I suggested it, my kid ridiculed me because "That's a silly name, mom." Yes. But she is reliable, un-fancy, and American-made. Any better suggestions?

**I learned that an incision in my ear is my second-least-favorite sound! Glad to know I'm not too old to keep learning new things about myself.

***Okay, maybe like that, occasionally, but certainly not in this context. I am a pre-professional. 

The Inner Taskmistress Is Still on Vacation

About eight days ago my iliosacral situation started hurting without notice. The kind of hurt that severely slows you down and means every little move is kind of breathtaking, you know? Today is as close to normal as I've been. I even went swimming last night! And feel kind of okay this morning - no Tylenol or anything! 

In other news the battery on my car died the big death. It got me to New Year's Eve at my in-law's house and since then: dead as a doornail. S took care of it, which was a big relief because I still can't know how to hear about lifting anything significantly heavy. What does that mean? I dunno. It's definitely the weight of a car battery, though, I'll tell you that for free.

It wasn't the highest on his priority list, though, (and that's fine) because the boys headed back to Texas yesterday so he's been hyper-focused on spending as much time with them as possible. They were up until I Don't Know O'Clock the night before last, and he stayed awake all night or try to to maximize face time with them. I can only imagine how hard that must be.

Things have been going all right, but I feel marinated in anxiety. S took the week of New Year's off work, ostensibly to help me because: pain. And he did field all the kid things and dinners which was extremely very helpful. But, as always, the house descended into chaos of the stereotypic kind. I've regained the kitchen, downstairs bathroom and dining room so far and hope to sink my talons into the living room today. Not that it's a surprise, likely, but if you didn't already know: pain makes you tired!

It's been kind of ridiculous cold lately, as in -10 Fahrenheit or below. Today it's jumped to 7 (above!) which seems decadent in comparison. I forgot gloves to go pick up a Target order the night before last* and realized getting gas was kind of, uh, emergent. Two gas stations and three pumps later I finally found one that was working, and learned that handling metal for any amount of time in 12 below feels like a mild burn. Consequently, I several hundred percent am bringing my gloves on outings from now until March, bruh.

Other things that don't belong in narrative form:
- L is back to school today, but it's "intensives" which are fun and art/science experiment based and I'm hoping will sell her a little more on this school
- M (the oldest boy) has acquired a little bit of a Texas twang in the year since I last saw him which was surreal
- N (the youngest boy) was on a shower strike almost the entire time he was here and wow it's no exaggeration those middle school hormones Christina Aguilera almighty
- My brain has not been braining task-initiation wise and I can't seem to find the magic combination of words to make it do the things
- I also experienced this in my last year of undergraduate; it sucked then and it sucks now but at least now I have More Trauma and Bupropion 🌈 ...I guess
- Wow, how about that impending war with Venezuela? What the fuck (unsurprised, tho')?
- There has been overall more fight-picking lately (on S's part) and overall less fucks given lately (on my part) which is kind of the pattern when it comes to the boys visiting and then leaving; perhaps it's even seasonally-related?
- The name game: to whit - yeah, I don't know what to name this kid. Expect a post about that coming to a blog near you. Why? Because names are one of my special interests, that's why.
- Although I am having trouble laughing lately, The Bleak Old Shop of Stuff evoked a titter or two
- Maybe surprisingly, maybe not, the new season of Phineas and Ferb has totally been making me lol, though. Just saying.

In the meantime, please enjoy this tangentially bone-related song. And stay warm! Warm, for godssakes.

*it was kind of a test run for the battery - oh, and my sacrum.

More of the same

Driving in one of my three favorite neighborhoods towards "my" church
(Is it really mine if it feels parasocial?)
I snoop through a window
Living room lights draped with red silk
Just like in To Wong Foo!
Reminds me of the life parts I miss and love
And the places I can't go anymore

I didn't really mean for this
Life
And it feels ungrateful
There are good parts!
But it feels wrong
To travel 3,000 miles and still
Be hiding
Live so close to my parents
Still feel unsafe

Or, at the very least, not worth the communication
I found a book my father left on my living room table while I was napping
No text no explanation
Just 12 Rules For Life

As always, I cried the day after Christmas
My daughter’s the same as me everything so near the surface
“I want it to be Christmas AGAIN” and she cries
The adrenaline dump is real and I don’t have the self-care chops for it right now
I cannot bring myself to tidy today
Or feel the good in much of anything

My parents gave S and me a hundred dollars and a card that says, explicitly, “We love ALL of you!”
Individually, I get a candle that I will use and some slippers that I never will
Never mind that I need shit for the baby

It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay
This is why we hate Christmas, I guess (hate? Hate.)
It is the epitome of playing chicken with limited resources and being enough and doing enough and making magic out of, idk, nothing
And not very well at that
It’s a nightmare for the borderlines, the autists

Is it good for anyone?

I want to take it back to times when it was just a feast
Trade in Thanksgiving for Christmas; we don’t need both
Just roll me up in a corner of a small cottage somewhere quiet
Where the messes are the messes only I make and my organization (such as it is) does not get fucked with ever
How long is this life again? Where does the will to live spring from? Is it still, always, anger?

I cannot consume right now
I want to eat but it’s hard to eat
I like the idea of watching a film but it feels painful to actually do so
reading’s better but not by much

My back hurts (already!) and I am beleaguered by the things I should do should have done accumulating like snow drifts around me

They will eat me alive

And you cannot help me and they cannot help me and my daughter should not even be as aware of the situation as she is

“It’s okay. Sometimes feelings get too big. You know how it is. I’m trying to figure out what my body needs to feel better.”

Her, gesturing at my stomach, “Maybe THAT guy is taking you over.”

…maybe.