This title was deceptively cheery for what I planned on writing. But I thought “hey there! (after 50 or so days of drinking away my sorrows)” wasn’t appealing.
I have a lot to say about the last few months and I won’t get to nearly all of it today or even probably this month, but I might as well start by saying it’s been a pretty difficult series of weeks. I lost track of the date and somehow thought it was mid-february. It did occur to me that it was rather warm for the middle of winter but I chalked it up to global warming (I was informed this weekend we’re likely facing a mass extinction, but it’s fine…if the dinosaurs survived, we will too).
It was difficult to be public with what I was going through. Grief twists your mind, freezes you into yourself. I’m only just recently starting to feel like I’m actually here, existing with everyone else instead of drifting along like a cut-open sea shell.
It would be the lie of the century to say I coped with the initial stages of my grief in a healthy way. I was already spinning into a tornado before Blaine’s death and her passing was something like the last domino. But I don’t want to play anymore.
I had a rather frightening experience about a week ago with alcohol and I’ll spare the details here but suffice to say it’s not a place I want to get to again. They say once you hit rock bottom you start to climb out. I’m not sure what rock bottom looks like but I really don’t want to get any closer. We had our courtship, an unpleasant and alcohol fueled flirtation, and now I’ve had enough.
I started carrots and (candy) sticks to talk about wellness and while there’s been a lot about eating disorders I imagine the next few months will be about grief and coping and trying to put the pieces back together after something very special breaks.
I need to start holding myself accountable (and holding myself together) because all of this is too precious to waste (which basically means I’m going to try to post nearly daily again instead of once every two months). I have found so much support by being really public with things that have been hard for me and so while it’s scary and embarrassing to admit I haven’t really taken care of myself recently, I think it’s important. Also if you have tips for coping with death (aside from weed, alcohol, pain killers, and running) hit me up.
On a lighter note (get it?), happy four twenty. If you also hate weed (anxiety is something I supply enough of on my own) then this means absolutely nothing to you too. However, if this is your favorite day of the year then go crazy, yolo, etc., and I’ll eat a few chocolate covered pretzels for you.