I have said for a long time, I would like life to be a bit boring for a while, just to see how that fits on for size. Not sure when that is in the cards.

Since Jesse and Bella died, there are things that I roll magically with, and things I don’t. There is not necessarily a rhyme or reason to it. Generally I have found, I roll with the bigger things and lose it over the small. I tend to watch, observe and generally honor the emotions that come my way, allowing I think, for me to continue to hold the never ending sadness that ebbs and flows within. If I don’t, then things get messy.

The ebb and flow flows more as the anniversary approaches. I don’t ever know what to expect, but one thing I do know is that the subconscious has a mind of its own, which is kinda funny when you actually start thinking about that statement. I have learned that even if I “feel” like life is ok-ish, there are all these memories that are not ok, never will be ok, and that they knock on the conscious door and say, hey, we are remembering sights, smells, light patterns that are similar to when they died, and hey, we are going to flood you with the memories. I have learned that I need to have a lot of patience with myself, that it is normal for this to happen, even if it makes my brain and I wonky.

I am slowly preparing for a lot of upcoming talks, which is something I love to do. The juggling is me feeling really far behind in that process losing a couple of weeks to my dads and uncles funerals.  Also, still slowly moving stuff from the old house to new, and getting a lot of unexpected work done to said old house.  I was slowly starting to chip away until I learned of something else.

I am going to be vague, only to preserve privacy. How it has affected me though is adding a very heavy layer to the layers I just talked about, to tip the scales into a wtf mode. I am leaden with worries and fears that I am talking myself off ledges I have not approached in a long time. I barely slept last night, laying there wanting to vomit because of all the emotions I was feeling. I woke, sorta, and the first thought was, I am never getting out of this bed, I just can’t.

Of course I did. I know I can. I know I will. Even if I don’t wanna. That being said, I am tired. I am sad. And I am scared. Did I mention tired? I am fighting a depression that is lurking underneath. It always pops up about now with those subconscious memories flooding, reminding me of everything, the before that night, that night, and the hell on earth after. The extra layer has added this weight to me and is a buoy to the plethora of feelings coming up making things messy.

I have promised to always be honest. I know if I say I am “fine” I am lying to myself and those around me. That does not help anyone, mostly me.  I have found that when one is honest about the shit going on in ones head, it takes away the power of it to do damage. Thoughts can fester, and can lead to unhealthy irrational thoughts if not given a space to go.  Much like a wound that does not get the proper care, leading to local infection and if ignored, possible sepsis. If you treat the wound, clean it, maybe put some antibiotic cream on it, cover it when necessary, then letting it air out, it will heal. I have found that with the thoughts that go on in my head. When something happens, I can catastrophize easily, it is one of the side effects of dealing with extreme trauma, you have an assumption, well, if that can happen, so can this, or this, or that. If I don’t do something with that catastrophized thought, it can lead to another and another until I am paralyzed with all this irrational thinking.

I am lucky. I am lucky to have support. I am lucky that I have taught myself to reach out for help. With that, this extra layer, though heavy, I don’t have to carry alone. The catastrophized thoughts that brewed all night are slowly getting air.

We are resilient. We are often stronger than we think. And, it is important when we forget, to lean on those that haven’t forgotten.