Spilled coffee and flowers

Yesterday I had a day that made me so incredibly happy to have taken steps toward working on my mental health. It seemed nothing could go right. From the moment I opened my eyes I felt such an incredible weight of misery and darkness and sadness and depression just laying on my chest like a lazy stubborn beast.

My husband and I have been separated for a bit under a year now and have a 5 year old daughter together. I realized early on that with the changes and everything that holidays the first time around were going to be tough. Would probably kind of suck. Trying to figure out who goes where and when and which part happens where and when and all of that. I did this not to be pessimistic but to be realistic. To not go too hard on myself if things aren't perfect. Standards can be set pretty high now a days which can often leave a parent feeling somehow "less than" under the best of circumstances. I feel we've worked well together to keep things magical and fun. However I had a new realization as soon as some loud ass crow outside woke me up. After I shouted "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU STUPID FUCKING CROW!!" and slammed my window shut, I plopped back into bed and realized "Oh. Mother's Day is coming up. Oh. Everything is closed. We can't go out with my mom. I can't get a tattoo. We can't go see a movie. There's no school made Mother's Day thing this year. Oh." So right off the bat I was feeling the self pity.

The day escalated quickly. I ended up having to take my mother to the ER (non COVID related issues). I couldn't go in with her. I couldn't sit with her. Driving away I felt a wave of sadness. I was angry for feeling bad about mother's day when now MY mother was alone in a hospital. I felt sadness and helplessness.

I came home and sat. In misery. In defeat. In sad. In mope. In nope.

It was only about 5:30. I couldn't just do that for the rest of the night. So I got up and decided to work on my kitchen. We just moved in and haven't fully settled yet. So I did my dishes and worked on cleaning and wanted to make some dinner. Just as I started to get going.... WHAM! I hit my head on the cupboard. The corner went right into the top of my skull. I screamed "Fuck! Goddamnit!" and held my hands to my head. I felt the heat start to fill my cheeks and face, I felt the tears well up, and I felt my knees buckle. Slowly I slid and crouched awkwardly down to the floor. I had a flashback of when I was pregnant and dropped my iced coffee on the floor of our first apartment together. In a flash I recalled scrambling to clean it all up before he saw because I was afraid of being screamed at for being so clumsy and so stupid which, were the actions of someone else. Then I asked myself when it changed. One trigger to the next, to the next, to the next until it finally clears and I find myself slowly catching my breath. Counting window panes. Reading the numbers on the clock. Noticing each and every floor tile. I get up. I wonder if the neighbors ever notice me and wonder what the hell I'm doing. I don't care. I make dinner. I clean my kitchen... it looks nice. I feel pleased. I go to bed.

I wake up at 11:30 today. This is unheard of. But I realize my body. and mind, and heart needed the rest. I decide to also take a long hot shower and listen to music. I do. I end up at the store. Here's another side bar:


I. Love. Flowers.I love them! They're beautiful, they smell nice, and they make me so stupid happy. But for some reason I had it in my head for a long time that you don't buy yourself flowers. I have no idea why. I just really thought you didn't. Maybe we read into that another day. But when I was single and in my 20's and had an awesome apartment I loved I was like "Dang, I wish some guy would send me some flowers!" And I had this realization that "I mean... I could buy flowers... they're right there... Just buy them!" So I started buying myself flowers on my typical grocery run. And that is something I stopped doing.

So today? I bought myself flowers. I did! and I split them up and cut them down short into 3 little glass bottles I've saved because they also made me happy because they are cute. So now I have fresh flowers in cute glass jars and they make me happy.

And I kept going. I took a walk with the dog and my neighbor, and then I cleaned my basement and set up my kickboxing bag and beat the shit out of it for a while. Now I got some writing out. I have to admit I don't feel as focused right now so I'm not editing this. Part of this journey is me... writing. Just writing. So I may not always have a really good tie in. Especially if I'm still a bit into the anxiety. Which is right now.


Take care of yourself. Some days I need to just chill out and relax and watch PBS Kids all day with my little one, some days I need to distract myself and be out and about running around crazy... some days I try to point and focus my energy into something positive. In any one of those days, I can end up crying on the floor in my kitchen. Sometimes that means you stop and rest or go to bed. Sometimes that means you call someone. Sometimes that means you go for a walk. Sometimes that means you curl on the couch and watch Princess Bride. Sometimes that means you stay on the floor a while. And sometimes that means you get up and make dinner. Sometimes things work, and sometimes they don't. It's important to learn how to read yourself, and to learn coping devices. *Note to self later. Add site for coping devices*


All in all... Your trauma doesn't define you... even though it can feel that way sometimes or a lot of the times. You are more than your trauma.

I am more than my trauma.

I am more than my trauma.

I am more than my trauma.

*Read and repeat as necessary*

Actually, it's a mug.

I was in Target a while back before the whirlwind of Quarantine struck. Back when you could still meander aimlessly through the aisles, casually sipping a comforting brewed beverage which is conveniently located in the front of the store... up and down each aisle without a list, or a care, or a face mask. When you didn't know what you needed but Target would TELL you...ahh.. those were the days... I'm sorry, what were we talking about? As yes. Aimlessness. *sigh*. I was getting the first group of basics that I knew I would need for my new apartment. Dish towels, drying rack, toothpaste, WHY DIDN'T I BUY MORE TOILET PAPER, shower mat, batteries.. that kinda thing. Anyways, I went through the basic bitch Magnolia Home section which I adore looking through! However, like dying my hair, I lack the follow trough to commit to such an endeavor. But this time something caught my eye. It was low key sassy, and sarcastic, and passive aggressive and I don't know who was messing with Joanna Gaines on the day she designed this mug but I am here for it. Look at this:

WHAT IS THAT?!?! I had to have it! I had to. At first I snorted at it, because that's what I do. I snort at things. I reached for it, and shook my head and took a step. Then I stopped and stepped back again. And then I picked it up and really looked at it. It wasn't pink. It wasn't floral. There were no cheesy pictures, or an over used yearbook quote of guidance and encouragement. It was firm, both glazed and unfinished, the letters printed deeply and in caps. For no specific reason, but for all of them at once I placed this mug into my cart and kept going. It was the first thing I took out of the bag and placed on a shelf. Even before all of the work was complete.

As a person with multiple stories, and multiple traumas, I have an array of triggers. I've learned, in the last 7 years, how to zero in and pay attention. One thing that I do, is to let words of abusers take over my brain. Those words lay so deeply within me I don't know that they'll ever disappear completely. So I do my best to differentiate if the words are coming from my brain, or from my past abusers. Sometimes it's hard to tell. Sometimes I can't find the logic. Sometimes it's still easier to just believe them regardless and quit or give up. I'm doing my best to rebuild my confidence, so even if I use this mug as a joke sometimes, I'm hoping it might ingrain itself into my brain the same way the negatives did. So if I begin to doubt or question myself on a task that may seem crazy or way above my level I'm hoping I"ll respond with "Actually, I can." and go for it. A semi for of training.

I, like everyone else in the literal world, has had a lot of adjusting to do recently. A big one I hadn't prepared myself for was my crisis counselor moving on in his journey. I take advantage of an incredible program here in Syracuse which provides me with free counseling sessions (They offer much more than that, however that is my current level of need). This was not a surprise. My counselor was an intern. However, with the quarantine, our last few sessions were virtual. Now despite me being incredibly thankful and appreciative of such technology being available, it was sad to have it end that way. A slight lack of closure. But really, I'm never truly satisfied with the final goodbyes. I've only been back into counseling for about 5 months or so, but the growth I've managed to accomplish has been incredible.


I'm willing to fully admit my anxiety during this next phase. Now is the waiting for a new councilor during a quarantine part. I have no idea how long it will take, or if I will connect the same way. I, again, feel so thankful to have received the councilor I did in that time. We were able to solve  problems, face insecurities, and identify a lot of blocks and other challenges I had in a very small window, comparatively. My hope is that, despite having a blip in the radar, I'll be able to continue my growth and progress. And, at some point, if anything in my mind says I won't be able to stay strong, I won't be able to focus, I won't be able to make progress and that I can't do it... I'll just snort and say "Actually, I can,"