Early Morning Errands
I was five minutes early to my 8am blood draw. Our doctor saw me pull up and came outside so I was so done by 8:02! That she is still happy to do this awkward thing makes it worth all the work to go across town to her office. At least COVID still had kept traffic not too bad
I remembered that the all vegan donut shop opened at 8am, as did the gluten free bakery we have gone to a few times. Both were on the way home, more or less. It felt nice to come home with really special treats for each of us.
I was aware of the diet culture irony of getting myself donuts right after a blood draw to check my cholesterol. Luckily it's stayed at just this awareness and hasn't turned into anxiety or food shame. Not even when I had two donuts in one day!
Home PT
I'm getting up early for me to go get my blood drawn by our doctor. I've been taking a red rice yeast compound for over six months, we'll see if it's having any effect on my cholesterol. I'm feeling mildly anxious, but just about any outing brings it up.
My colleague who teaches MELT Method brought over the props I bought today. I'm excited to have them, I really felt a benefit to my pain when is stay for her class after mine at the community center. I think it will help CK too.
I told her about my late night research on Restless Leg Syndrome. I'm going to compose my thoughts and questions then send it to our doctor. I found a few things we could start trying that won't hurt even if that's not what CK had going on.
We're also pretty sure she's got a rib out of alignment under her right scapula. Slowly trying to work on that, the MELT roller might help too.
Ants in Pants
I wanted to write about gratitude and how grateful I am for how our community is keeping connected and supporting one another. Especially because I get to avoid a Costco trip!
But for the fifth or sixth night in a row CK has had what she calls "ants in the pants" when she lays down to sleep. Previous nights a hand rub helped and she fell asleep. Tonight, no luck.
I've been reading about Restless Leg Syndrome.
I know it's not a good idea to research late at night, but here we are. I'm worried about her. It did give me some good ideas too.
Another plus to keeping a household journal/calendar is that I started noting the nights a hand rub was needed. It is unfolding in usefulness!
I Hate This
CK has been experiencing surface numbness in her side, neck, arm, hand and hip. Can't feel water temperature correctly and has some pain.
We don't think it's anything life threatening, but it's still freaking me out somewhat. I really want CK to finally go see our physical therapist because I feel out of my depth to help with massage and traction.
She notes, "Not while there's COVID."
I spent 30 minutes angry-cleaning dishes as I couldn't stop crying. This happened late last night too, the tears just falling uncontrollably. I hate all of this pandemic life we're living.
I hate the panic I feel if I don't leave the house with my full respirator mask. I hate that we need to wear masks of any kind. I hate that people pull them off outdoors even though there are people around them. I hate that people won't wear masks at all.
I hate that they're not running drive-thru vaccine clinics 24x7. I hate that we don't even know when we can get vaccinated. I hate that there aren't enough vaccines. I hate that we're still having shortages of PPE and equipment like pipettes to do better testing.
I hate not feeling safe in this way. I hate takeaway and not dining out. I hate that they're trying to open up dining again.
I hate feeling exhausted by the thought of going into a store. I hate that being in a store is an exercise in anxiety. I hate not ever feeling safe to just dash up to the market to get something because i changed my mind about dinner.
I hate this.
I want to stand on the beach and hear nothing but waves and gulls. When I am damp and chilled to the bone I want to go into a cozy restaurant to have tea and pastries and french fries.
I want to hug people besides CK again and I'm not a hugger.
Ursa is sitting on my lap purring as I write this. Thank goodness for his sweetness.
I'm also enormously grateful for the beloved friend who offered to go to Costco for us. Since I had a panic attack and flashback in Costco last year, it's made it more tiring to go to than it already had been. I broke down in tears for the first time today when I got a text asking if it would help. At least those were a break of gratitude tears.
Suicide Prevention
The Question, Persuade, Refer training today was really helpful. It provided better language for talking with someone who might be suicidal. We were encouraged to practice asking people if they are in danger of self harm.
Most people respond positively to being asked and open up. Many who turn away from an attempt become less likely to attempt again.
Suicide is preventable.
As someone who's been affected deeply by the suicides of friends, I can't help but think of them. I feel the complicated grief come up again, yearning for those friendships. I'm also aware of the even more complex grief about my Mother and the way she weaponized her depression and suicidal ideation to get sympathy or compliance.
After the workshop I napped a little under the weighted blanket. I'd had another terrible night's sleep, so I was feeling like a wall hit me!
Ursa was extra snuggly today, which helps so much!
COVID Nightmares
Although it felt like I slept ok compared to the tossing and turning the previous night, but I also had a terrible anxiety dream.
There had been flooding, I got swept up in it, lost my stuff, and got separated from CK. I was going up to people begging them to call her for me.
As that happened we all watched Portland be bombed by military jets!! Very much in the style of Atlanta being bombed in the first season of The Walking Dead!
It made for a tiring day. Ursa was adorable though.
Good Hard Opportunity
I was offered an opportunity to learn how to recognize signs of suicidal ideation in older adults and steer someone skillfully to appropriate assistance. It's a workshop targeted at folks who work with elders and the organizer knows me, they extended an invitation yesterday.
I spent a little time moving a physical therapy session I had scheduled at the same time. I had something two weeks out, but by the end of the day the wait list yielded a session next week at a time that works better.
I'm truly grateful to have this come up. I see so much depression showing up for folks of all ages. As the reality of Pandemic Year Two sinks in people are feeling all the isolation and despairing.
My therapist shared yesterday that the rate of suicide attempts showing up at hospitals is shocking and is mostly children. A recent weekend saw 10 people admitted, all children. Two older people is the usual. It keeps getting worse and calls Child Protective Services are way down because teachers aren't seeing students the same way.
All that drives Oregon's decision to push teachers to be vaccinated first even though kids can't be vaccinated. This decision drives older adults further down the list to get vaccinated and depression rates are jumping up.
It's continuous, national trauma without a real end in sight and mutations around every corner. I'm grateful to get yet a little more training in helping people survive this.
In ordinary, but delightful, news, Ursa gnawed on my arm until he knocked his second baby fang out. It was equally gross and endearing.
Poverty in the 1970s
As I continue to work through early trauma I am connecting to the particular wounding of poverty that runs through my earliest years. There's the trauma of my unstable Mother and the intergenerational trauma of my whole family. There's my mostly absent, addiction-plauged Father.
Then there is the kinds of brutality that arises out of poverty itself. Desperation and worry recoiling out of adults like knives or whips. Other adults preying on the most vulnerable. Like me.
Then there was the time itself. Generation X remains the most under parented generation ever. Even kids from good families were getting meals together and walking home from school alone at age 6. For those of us from trauma-filled homes, we were practically feral children much of time.
Today's SAFE session was hard. I feel exhausted on multiple levels. The grief and anger feel as though they've merged into a hard, spiky mass inside my upper body.
My float after was also too cold. I need to let them know that I was really not able to relax well because of it.
I forgot my respirator mask today and it really hurt my anxiety hard! I had quality backups with me and where I was today was very low proximity to people, but it was nerve-wracking. Being out in public with that level of mask feels way too risky now.
Sea of Grief
I'm listening to an audiobook of one of Ursula K. Le Guin's collected essays, speeches, and criticism, The Wave in the Mind, and was reminded through it of Primo Levi's work. I was looking at some and this stood out.
"The sea of grief has no shores, no bottom; no one can sound its depths."
I felt this inner pull, twisting of energy in response to them. Grief answering grief.
Perhaps that's the best analogy for Pandemic Year Two, the Sea of Grief.
I'm so weary of students crying because uncertainty, loneliness, and fear are getting to them. I'm also feeling really sad to still be here, to still have no real idea when it will change.
At least Ursa remains very cuddly.
Sunday
I felt both tired and blue about the state of the pandemic. It was showing up as self-directed anger, again. Despite this I plugged away at laundry and feeding us. Leftovers and things I can make from the freezer, although we did have freshly made coleslaw with dinner.
I also encouraged us to spend some time with the new Magic the Gathering cards. We opened up our prerelease kits and determined neither made a fun deck alone so we just got all the cards sorted into tribal sets. We both were pretty sore this morning, so we left it at that.
CK tried resting while I worked on chores and did some planning. After lunch she had the idea to summarize the most urgent issue at work, the one that affected the team greatly. It made for a long day, but it’s important work.
Ursa enjoyed "helping" with the card sorting. From one angle he looks nearly full grown, from another he's tiny cat!