What I learned in June

Two people tell me I seem “more alive” than I did a month or two ago. There are days when I feel a new depth to my thoughts. Growth and newfound wisdom. During today’s appointment, my psychiatrist said I seem to “still have lots of feelings” for my husband. Some good news, some bad. One foot in front of the other…..

Sometimes there are so many events and experiences in the making that I forget or get caught up in the next one, the one from yesterday forgotten or disappearing without announcement. If there’s no closure, it’ll come back ‘round again.

I’ve learned that people, even those you have not connected with in a very long time, can return to you even sweeter and kinder than before. Helpful beyond the call of duty, bringing a sense of calm, the assurance that things will turn out OK because they are helping you. Pounds of worry off my plate.

My kids keep showing up for me. The relationship I have with them more precious than gold. I want to become even closer with those two. I learned there are now three yes’s to a possible trip or reunion in December. It’s always good to have something to look forward to.

Sometimes you get bad news. Acceptance and faith make it much easier to bear.

In general, people don’t seem to change. What you see is what you get and what you got in the past is what you continue to get present day. That goes for the good ones and the bad ones.

Grief is not linear. It zig zags back and forth, the trajectory never making sense.

The cleanse for a colonoscopy is not nearly as bad as I’d expected. The procedure, just plain easy as pie. Especially those 30 seconds when you are awake and can feel the propofol. Early detection always a blessing.

Patience is still having its way with me, but I am improving.

I see that people are jealous, the reason unfounded, making things so much more complicated when it is floating around. The weight so heavy. The inability to see clearly and the desire to strike out are never helpful.

Fly fishing is a blast! I’m fortunate to have found a new hobby I enjoy. I stretched myself; the loneliness and fear I wore were well worth it. There’s still more of that to come. Getting out there comes with its rewards.

You do get used to the heat in Texas.

A good cry can be therapeutic. The points in between my times of wailing/tears/watery eyes growing wider. This is good.

Things do get better even when there are steps taken backwards.

It’s important to remember bad stuff always look better after a good night’s sleep. Making decisions while exhausted is never a good idea.

Seeing either one of my children makes my heart sing. Each gives me reason to be thankful. And I’m not done being needed. Never will be.

The effects of alcohol arrive as my enemy. Propofol can take the same name. Irrational thoughts, nostalgia, melancholy, old times. None of those are good for me.

Having an influence (in a positive way) on others, adding a hand as they reach for their dreams, being an inspiration, scooping away fear-it doesn’t get any better than that. I know I want to do that forever.

Faith really does get you through the toughest of days. And nights.

Some things are worth the money. Like insurance for therapy. One-stop movers. Finding an apartment where you feel safe.

Counting calories doesn’t help you gain that much weight. Neither does weighing cheese. I’m still up just two pounds.

Taking things one day or sometimes one hour or one minute or one second at a time, that’s the only way to go. Break it down into something manageable. I don’t always practice what I preach, but I do know the difference.

The dissolution of my marriage, mere weeks in the making, taking so much longer to say I have survived. My head not always above water. But I still try. It’s critical you just keep at it.

Changing a ring tone can be so therapeutic. It can stop an association dead in its tracks. It’s worth the time to scroll through and choose a new sound.





Giving time

This is a day without appointments and Kelly’s first day of her vacation. She comes back in 6 days. Funny how I never wanted a roommate in the past when I was single, yet now, she’s a warm welcome. It’s been good to have her for a while; she works out of her house so there’s often someone around. Unless she is traveling. I think it’s sped up the healing process, me not having to be totally alone. Hanging solo in a place day after day with only your sad-sack self for company is not therapeutic. Lesson learned in Lexington (it was still the best first place for me to land). Despite its rolling hills, quaint little downtown, cool breweries, I was not yet ready to be by myself. Now that I’m moving forward, having my own digs sounds pretty cool.

Something really hit me today. Time. A priceless commodity. We feel loved when we get it. For some, such an effort to give that gift. Too busy or lazy, lack of interest or care. Putting off a phone call, a visit. A text to say hello. Precious and good are those who give the gift of time to others. We don’t realize how much some people appreciate or need it until we’ve experienced loneliness ourselves. I’m glad I gave it to my Mother; glad I’m always connecting with my kids. One of the best gifts in the world.

Been a very long day. Hard, hard work on a project for an online writing class. Tears while talking with my tenant; an argument over money, cleaning and deposits. After hanging up, a bawling session. Hadn’t done that in a long time. Tears can be therapeutic, rinse off what’s really bothering you. So glad for the opportunity to start over in the morning.

Upcoming and therapy

Starting to get a little nervous. The trip to Seattle, then Port Townsend getting closer day by day. Need to start a packing list, connect with those picking me up, providing a place to sleep. Thankful for those driving me to and from. Time with my daughter and the Spokane gals. My first trip back to Seattle since the wedding and move to India. Need to get my book list and study plan set up. Need to pray more and more, increase the exercise, reduce the stress.

I’ve been having these visions of water, the waves flirting and teasing as they draw near, then retreating at just the right moment. Oh, so close. The sounds, the image in my head. The water greeting me over and over again. Is there a message or a meaning for me here? I’ve always loved oceans and rivers. Could (and have) spent hours walking up and down the beach, looking for the day’s gifts, washed up by the waves. Sea glass, the shell of a crab, the bright orange offering up a splendid gift of color. The sea kelp, all the green and brown and red. Rocks and chipped mussel shells. Sometimes a dead fish or a bird, reminders of nearby inhabitants.

Once on a trip with my son to the Virgin Islands. The fish, a fancy feast for the eyes. Snorkeling. In Hawaii with my niece as my sister stayed on the boat, afraid of what might lie beneath. Sea turtles viewed from a glass bottom kayak in St. John. Florida many times. Jamaica. Greece. Rio. Sitting back on a log on the Washington coast, the waves crashing, thankful an odd and unexpected illness was hitting the road after months of medication. And the rivers and streams in Colorado, Oklahoma, New Mexico. Yellowstone. Big Sur with my kids. Marin, California. Numerous other locales.

Remembrances. Sea glass packed up tightly in a white porcelain bowl, waiting for me; it will travel the miles on a moving truck in August. I’ll be glad to see it again. And the others- Driftwood from Hawaii . Silver dollars from Coronado Beach. Shells from Hood Canal. Rocks from the Arabian Sea. Too many bodies of water and their gifts to mention; I wanted remnants from them all. Wondering if these interminable visuals of the oceans and rivers are a sign of things to come? A move to Port Townsend? Can’t think about that now.

I’m not moving backwards. I’m really not. The therapy session today, filled with talk of my husband. Cathartic. More and more instances remembered and discussed. Without pain. A kind of assembly line: pull it out, speak of it, then toss. More validation of what I wasn’t sure (at the time) I knew. I know now. Something good happening on that pretty blue couch. I told Kim (my therapist) about showing Melissa the flowers, et al, while still on propofol yesterday. All normal, considering the circumstances. Feeling lighter now.