(Bite My Lip & Spin Me Faster) Modern Love’s a Beautiful Disaster
March 26th - These past few weeks have been such a whirlwind with doctor’s visits and insanity at home, and losing myself in my work. Everything has felt so lost lately. Modern love is too complicated (thank you All Time Low). But I can’t keep waiting for the perfect time. I’m working too hard and everything is such an uphill battle. Losing myself in writing and listening to emo albums, planning for the two week work-cation that’s FINALLY coming (one without phones, one with a beloved friend). But I’m still treading water. Waiting on doctors. Waiting on the Supreme Court. Fighting my internal battle while I’m fighting the battle outside. Fighting to make time for myself so I don’t burn out again. Trying to take back the things I love before the fire goes out. Maybe learn how to play drums? Pick up my guitar again? Maybe hike up a mountain?
We’re saving up for a house, trying to find a place we can stretch out - make our mark. We’ve never really had a place to call ours before. It’s always belonged to someone else. I’ve never had anything that felt like mine before I got married. And now I have a partner who supports me 100% and doesn’t let the world walk all over me (and believe me, it still tries). It’ll give me a place where I can do the day job (fuck the patriarchy!) and the dream job (hi!); and allow my spouse and I a chance to do the stuff we actually love to do: write, sew, lasercut, woodburn, paint, film, garden, sculpt, woodwork, game, cook, and all manner of madcap activities. And we’ll have SPACE (the final frontier!), because we’re getting a wee bit cramped in here.
April 14th - Because the internet is weird and ADHD is a thing, I wrote the first two paragraphs at the end of March so now I’m actually on my vacation. To be perfectly honest, it’s been kind of intense for a vacation. I mean, I’ve gotten a lot of rest, That’s been great. I’ve finally seen a real primary care doctor and a chiropractor and I’ve made appointments for dentists and specialists. Oh, We cleaned the living room! It’s livable. I mean, I wouldn’t entertain strangers there, or my grandmother (she had very high standards), but I’d invite friends. Or my mom. (My mom has high standards, but she’s less terrifying than my grandmother.) The chiropractor said that my body seemed to be off kilter (no kidding), but fixable! Well that’s a relief.
Fixable is something I can deal with. Because that’s one step closer to living.
May 4th - Joni Mitchell was right, the seasons go on and on. We’re captive on a carousel of time. I started writing this in March, when I was wound up and desperate for a vacation. Now it’s May and I’ve taken it. Gotten some clarity. Found some peace in the mountains of North Carolina. Peace was something my household desperately needed. We’d been locked up tight in our apartment for so long I’d forgotten how to breathe. (And surprisingly, the cats did not murder me in my sleep!)
I’ve been thinking a lot about the bizarre and unpredictable nature of love. A date night for an established pair. A chance meeting for lovers whose chance left them long ago. Amicable conversations held, while volumes are said in well-chosen glances and eyebrow raises. An echo of a life that could have been, before the spell is broken and everyone returns to their normal existence. Because I would do just about anything for love, but I won’t fuck up my (beautiful, hard-earned, forged in fire and blood and so much nerdery) normal existence. Not for that. Not for him.
But I’m getting back to normal! I’m regaining my mobility and slowly but surely fixing my body and brain. While I won’t wholeheartedly endorse pseudoscience, I will endorse treatments that work. Recent trips to the chiropractor have improved my mobility, and I am doing additional work to fix the rest of me. So many doctor’s visits…I’m reminded of tagging along to my grandparents’ many medical appointments when I was a kid.
I feel like an old woman with all these appointments. I’d rather spend my money starting a business or on a social life. But we had a vacation! And we’re getting out more. And we’re finally getting the house in order. And that feels amazing. Being able to have people over and not feel like we’re living in a cave of anxiety-induced clutter feels really amazing. It’s the simplest thing, but after so long in isolation, after so long without visitors, getting this bit of control over our lives feels incredible.
Still, I feel the pull to travel. I have friends I miss out West and down South. I’m determined to live my life, despite the pounding in my head, the elephant on my chest, and the frequent sucker punches to my guts. I spent too long not moving. I need to keep moving. Keep writing. Keep creating. Keep going. I only really feel alive when I’m making/creating/writing things (or listening to really good music), so the goal is to keep creating as long as I can. To not let my stupid medical shit prevent me from achieving my goals, while simultaneously not overdoing it, while simultaneously not alienating my support systems. Simple, right? - Facepalm -
