on Chronic Illness/on Co-Parenting

january 3rd journal

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Today has been filtered through the lens of the migraine I woke up with and that is still kicking around inside my skull. I went on Twitter and got VERY INVOLVED in the Bean Dad discourse, and the screenshots of my tweet thread on it are on my Instagram and Facebook stories today because holy hell does that guy need to shut the fuck up and do a much better job as a parent.

I hear he’s great at being an anti-semitic Nazi, but I can’t prove that to you because he’s deleted his account. There are screenshots floating around, though, so if you have a Twitter account you can probably find them easily (and I’m sure it’ll be showing up on Facebook as screenshots of tweets with screenshots in them soon enough).

My main beef(s) [beeves??] with his self-congratulatory discourse on Teaching Moments and how he decided to use one to shame his daughter into trying to understand the mechanics inherent in a can opener is that he is abusing her, specifically by neglecting her physical needs (she was hungry), treating her like shit because of a power trip, and actively creating a situation and context for her to develop disordered eating. So, yeah. It made me angry.

That up there is a view from my bedroom because this migraine has kept me from doing much other than trying to be comfortable in my bed so far today. I hope I feel well enough to get out of bed after a bit, so that I can move my joints which are currently pretty sore from all the fucking sitting I’ve had to do lately. Last night I had such an intense MCAS reaction to … something, I still don’t know … that I had to take two extra of my rescue antihistamines and also use a nebulizer and after that I was sore and exhausted.

But I journaled today in my written bullet-style journal, and I’m writing here, and I took a picture of the wintry outside, and I’m not a shit parent like Bean Dad so I think overall this day has more wins than losses in it.

on Co-Parenting/on Hope/the Pandemic/the Work

january 2nd journal

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I don’t know about you, but two posts two days in a row is NOT NORMAL for me. I’m just going to go with it for as long as it lasts, and if/when I fall off the rotation I won’t hate myself for it.

I just posted this photo to Instagram. It’s dark in my room because it’s after 6pm and even though I have several lamps on, civil twilight was at 5:49pm here so it’s well and truly dark outside. These are my carry-with-me meds, my clean-my-face toiletries, my coffee cup, a bottle of water, and my best and most favorite lotion. In the background you can see a small stack of books that’s been there for months because I am going to “read them soon” hahaha. At least looking at them makes me feel happy.

My second youngest is spending extended parenting time at her dad’s house because … well, because pandemic. It’s not safe for her to go back and forth between houses every two weeks, not for my household or her dad’s household or for her. There’s no easy way to work in a 14-day quarantine for a person who whose life would end up being a constant quarantine sandwiched between every other weekend. My depression has spiked pretty seriously because of the decision to do this, but I have good support in my family and my attorney and I know this is the right thing to do for now.

I’ll call her in a little while for our regular twice-weekly phone call and we’ll talk about random things like what her day’s been like and whether it snowed there today and, if I’m lucky, she’ll go on a tangent and tell me everything she knows about whatever her favorite book or manga series is right now. Neither of us is very good at conversation without a topic, so I try to get on the phone with at least a couple of things I can bring up or talk about. She’ll be twelve in six days and I need to order birthday gifts and it is going to be so weird without her here this year.

Today is Twelfth Night in my tradition, and we are emerging from the dark of these past days since Yule with the hope of seeing more light. Of being more light. It’s a paradox I am still learning, that there can be both darkness and light in me. It is truly an experience of being in the shadows but constantly turning toward what illuminates, reveals, and warms.

It’s almost time, I think, for me to decide how to bring my brand-new baby steps death doula work into the world. There is so much death and so much separation from the dying, even more so than in the Before Times. I am overwhelmed by the sheer pain and need, but in the times I can think about it without being crushed by it, I know that my Work has a time and a place this year. Here’s to figuring it out as I go.

on Hope/the Pandemic

january 1st journal

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Hello to the year two thousand twenty-one of the Common Era. To the possibility of safe vaccinations. To the potential of what we can do when we all march, protest, demand, hope together. To using everything I’ve learned about self-care and continuing to improve my practice of loving myself. To being a year older and hopefully a year wiser. To new ways of doing old things.

I can’t help but feel a little foolish for taking up blogging again on the first of the year. I am hopeful that this can be part of my practice, of crawling out of my shell carefully, of more mindfully engaging in the world in ways that are necessary and not for show.

I’d like to take more photos, but right now there’s not a lot of daylight and I’m usually busy taking care of myself and my household responsibilities (like managing the kids’ virtual school) during the bit of daylight we have. Also, it’s Michigan, so it’s too cold for hanging about with the curtains open all the time. AND WE AREN’T PAYING TO HEAT THE OUTDOORS.

Perhaps this time around the sun I can be kinder to myself, not so frustrated when reality doesn’t match my expectations. I’ll be going to regular teletherapy, continuing to knit the first blanket I’m making for myself, browsing small person clothing on the Target website (it’s so much fun to dress a tiny person!!), staying under my bedcovers when I want to, managing the household projects I’ve taken on, and — this is important — increase my belief that naps are a good idea.