“Stop it, Kramer, you’re freaking me out.”

person in cosplay costume

I just got back from a mini vacation in Denver.  M thought it would be an excellent way to shake loose from the downward spiral into a pit of depression.  It worked.  I’m feeling so much better.  I’m nearly giddy — a pleasant side-effect of getting baked while in Rome.  I feel energized from reaching a state of zero anxiety.  Half the effect is from the sense of awe over the achievement.  I always forget how incredible it feels.  It makes for a delightful surprise each visit.

It also reminded me of the cost demanded in vulnerability.  In my case, partaking is a buddy exercise only.  Heh.  I cherish this knowledge like someone who thinks way too much.  🙃 (Jordan Peele made us cool.)  I slept like Gayle King after an R Kelly interview last night.  I woke up laughing, feeling like I could conquer my chores before noon.  (Done.)  I worked on my story in progress like Mavis Beacon was testing my typing for several hours.  The Muse must have been pleased to see me discover that headspace.

The only con is I didn’t do an ergonomic check before I jumped in.  I’m don’t stay in the same position for too long, or you’ll move like you’re 100 for an uncomfortable minute years old.  It’s still funny every time I forget;  bonus.  I had a great time in Denver.  I behave like someone who hasn’t been around enough diversity for a long time and can’t reign in the huge grin.  I strongly suspect it factors into why I find the people of Denver so kind.

cute bearded person

I beta tested a prototype while visiting, and it’s triggered all sorts of thought paths for potential usability.  Air traffic controllers, surgeons, and neurodiverse people were obvious beneficiaries immediately.  By the time I strayed onto a different thought tangent, I had decided it would probably be useful to everyone who wanted to use it.  I merely applied a bit of capitalist tinged triage on the fly.  (Those are people I know are often under tremendous pressure.)

Despite having fun, coming home was the best part.  I longed for home while enjoying myself.  It’s confirmation I’ve successfully configured my living space.  It’s where I want to be.  I had no idea this was the prize.  It’s fabulous!  The funny part is I think it’s going to weaken my tendency toward agoraphobia.  When I know, I have a place where I can genuinely exhale, awaiting my return, going out is a lot less painful.  Yay.  Thank goodness for Marie Kondo.

I think the most important thing she taught me is organization and awareness of my connection to my stuff is a beautiful coping skill for anxiety and depression.  (Usually, what’s good for us is good for most, because many don’t know they dabble in juggling these challenges, too.)  I didn’t bring my new camera because I’m not even sure which parts of it I’m not supposed to touch yet.  I only know those parts exist.  (I’m such a noob.  😂)  I’m off to continue re-reading A Wise Man’s Fear by Patrick Rothfuss.  (We’re in Fae.  😆)

“That’s the guy who threw George out of the wedding.”

traditional wedding

Today I am so very contrary.  Anxiety keeps pinching my adrenal glands, giggling at the hormonal chaos that ensues.  My mind betrays me further by throwing up too vivid snapshots of moments in the past that triggered this response.  Yeah.  Thanks for reminding me why Anxiety took up permanent residence in the first place.  I’d forgotten.  Not.  (Yep.  I talk like it’s still 1987.)

M asked me if I have an idea of when we should marry.  I didn’t immediately answer.  Instead, I instantly regressed to a 5-year-old mentality, then willed myself to mature back to adulthood.  It was like passing an emotional kidney stone, but I managed.  I’ve been low-level processing this question for months.  I know what I want.  I was afraid it wouldn’t match what M wants.

I used the whiteboard to outline my pros, cons, and an alternate option.  It was a necessary bridge to the discussion that followed.  I feel like I destroyed some of M’s innocence in the process.  He’s never experienced the repercussions of being virtually owned by another entity.  I don’t think it’s something people ponder unless it touches their lives.paper beats rock

I know many others have experienced the potential horror of seeking asylum from an abusive marriage by using 911.  They too see how the attitudes and beliefs of individual law enforcement affect the justice for a perceived possession far more than any laws.  They’ve probably also experienced medical professionals in their face asking why they don’t merely call the police; while glaring with accusing eyes.

I think M understands why paper beats rock, now.  A paper marriage license almost got me killed last time.  Experience outweighs statistics in this instance.  I don’t want to do it again, even if my reasons are (now) irrational.  I’d prefer creating a partnership that doesn’t involve the government.  (Especially one that’s attempting to transition into The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood.)

It disgusts me that in 2018, what is or isn’t between my legs has more influence over my life than any other factor on this planet.  I know when people look at me, they’re automatically assessing my worth based on things for which I have no control.  Many determine how to treat me, and whether I deserve respect or even life itself on the same basis.  I’m an NPC (non-player character) in this vile game of fraudulence and domination.wedding hands

I catch myself thinking about the citizens of Germany during the Holocaust of late.  Visiting the Dachau concentration camp memorial in Bavaria transformed (and broke) me more than any other single event in my life so far.  It’s likely why Anxiety is beating me about the head and neck.  I’m a pattern finder.  It’s no wonder I feel like I can’t catch my breath most of the time, these days.

M told me he wants to be my partner for life, and we can celebrate it however I want.  I responded like a 13-year-old who just found out her crush like-likes her, including the pre-choreographed dance routine and high-pitched squee.  Shutup.  Heh.  I’m relieved it didn’t turn out to be a case of, This is Where I Leave You (funny movie, btw.)  I’m off to work on my vows for our untraditional partnership.  🙃 💜

“You know, these movies are great, but they’re just so emotionally exhausting.”

Growing sprouts

I used up most of my energy before noon, today.  Whoops.  I’m allowing too much news to get through.  I’m battling against an overwhelming desire to isolate, as a result.  I remember when I used to surrender to this urge.  It seems like a long time ago, but it’s been just over a year since I crawled out from beneath that rock.  Life is quite challenging now, and it’s building me up.

Anxiety has been dangling me by my ankle over a pit of doom.  I’m hanging there, trusting in The Force while my body trembles.  I need a Star Wars marathon.  I’m going to do a chronological order viewing over the course of a week.  We’re heading to Denver soon for a short tree planting session.  M is going to play with drones.  I miss the smell of freshly turned earth.

I watched Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, yesterday.  I started from the beginning and watched through Sarah Jessica Parker.  Jim Carrey made me laugh so hard I cried.  I didn’t know he was a painter.  You get to see lots of his works inside his art studio.  I love the show because it’s not only hilarious, it’s fascinating.  I love Netflix.  Heh.

flying drone

I think I may need to include a rest day in my workout schedule.  My muscles feel itchy, which is distracting.  I haven’t quit running yet.  When I step onto the trail, my body starts running automatically.  I roll with it until I get to the first street crossing.  Then I walk for a bit until my mind wanders again, and I start jogging.  It’s a stim, not my workout, so I don’t mind.  It calms me.

I create mashups of songs by Stevie Nicks and ABBA in my head while I run, lately.  Edge of Seventeen mashed with Does Your Mother Know is ridic dope.  I may even try to mix it myself just because I need it in my life.  It’s in my top two songs right now, including Nice For What by Drake.  The creative part of my brain works so well when I’m in constant, rhythmic motion.

I regret pushing to muscle failure in my workout this morning.  I forgot I’m in my 40’s or something.  I don’t feel older; I need more time to recover, and stretching is no longer optional.  I remember when my body could do whatever I demanded without flinching.  I would miss it, but I’m too busy being pleased with what I can still do.  Recovery time and lots of stretching are acceptable.  I practice meditation while I stretch like it’s worth extra credit; (it probably is.)  I’m off to make popcorn for my marathon.  😆 💜