Grocery Pick-up

Where am I supposed to go, again? 

Find That Word

Already There

Spotted on a trash bin at our local airport. Nice. 

Meme-point

Sometimes, the memes just seem... on point. 

Ah, the duality of neurodivergence. 

Fall

Lovely.

Forever Mood

Fair

 It being Mental Health Awareness Month (depending on whom you ask, it being either May or October), there was a Mental Health Awareness and Resource Fair scheduled to be held at a nearby park this afternoon. Since Beloved Husband planned some time away for one of his hobbies this weekend, I thought I'd take advantage of my alone time to check out this Fair. I'm a fan of supporting open and honest conversation about mental health, especially in a community such as ours where culturally, mental health issues are not easily discussed.  

-----

On my way there, I wondered if perhaps there might be some resources for grief support. I am still struggling, nearly nine months later, with my lovely Daddy's death -- especially this month, when I am slogging through a seemingly endless stream of complex paperwork to meet an estate tax deadline -- and I feel as though I could use some more support. 

It's been a long and lonely road without Daddy, and my resources are few. My brother and sister, though ever so kind and warm and lovely like our Daddy, are far away and tending to their own grief. Beloved Husband, who has thoughtful words when he can stop and listen, is so very busy that he has a hand on the doorknob and a foot either literally or metaphorically out the door much of the time; I am hesitant to interrupt the flow of his complex life to try to turn his attention, because I know he does not have the minutes to spare for me. And I worry a great deal about overburdening Cherished Friend, who kindly reads my texts of Feelings when I can no longer suppress what I am experiencing. I do not want to weigh him down with my difficulties. I fear it will be Too Much, and he will grow weary of me and walk away. As is his right. 

What kind of person am I, if the only thing I have to offer is my sorrow and rage and pining loneliness right now? I have nothing to serve guests at my table except a scalding and bitter tea. I am trying to listen, and support, and Do For Others, as I have always done before (and, in better times, as I have liked to do). Nothing grows in my garden, though, when it is watered only by tears. 

-----

When I arrived to the location of the Fair, there were only two cars in the large parking lot, and not a person in sight. The table in the gateway of the park, where normally the welcome people sit at events, had a handful of painted rocks and a few fliers in plastic upon it. The calendar of events nearby mentioned the Fair and other events, but there was not a soul to be seen.  Only a tumbleweed would have made the scene more picturesque in its emptiness.

It seemed.... apropos, somehow. 

I took a walk through the park. It was quiet, breezy, not too warm. Nice. I admired the sculptures, which I'm not sure I've ever seen in broad daylight before. And I looked for wildlife. I saw a few ducks, several lizards, and a very nice spiderweb.

It wasn't quite a grief support group. But it was, in its own way, a good respite from the Grief.

Monthlong

A whole month, on-call. The entire month of November. Unless I am dismissed. 

I know it is important to the System.  Still - Yikes.

Lick

I do enjoy a good meme. 

LICK. 

Pumpkin Loaf

Trying to do the little things I used to enjoy, like baking, in the hopes they will bring me a bit of happiness again now amidst all the Stuff.  

What's That Feeling

 Please forgive the paucity of communication this week; I've been immersed in a migraine loop that I'm finding hard to break.  I have the good meds on board, and I'm trying, but I feel... terrible. It'll take a bit of time. 

One aspect of heavy-duty-migraine that I have noticed, is that the wall between neutrality and feelings is much, much thinner. Sometimes, I cannot tell if I am experiencing a welling-up of feelings, or the early onset of what will eventually be a surge of migraine.  A little bit of research shows me that there appears to be an association between alexithymia and migraine (as well as between alexithymia and autism). It's intellectually interesting, for sure, and would be more interesting if it weren't for the fact that it all just means that my brain hurts and my feelings are complex and not easily identifiable at the moment. And that I'd rather not be experiencing any of that, thank you very much. 

I'm going to go drink more water to placate the "you're just dehydrated!" migraine-advice-gods, and then maybe lie down for a while more. Maybe I'll feel a feeling or two, and see if that will placate them enough so that they will go away for now. We shall see. 

Fingers crossed. 

I Might Be Tired Of Adulthood

Kitchen

 Herself speaks.

During a Zoom call yesterday evening, Cherished Friend was making a cup of tea and brought the tablet with the Zoom window open on it with him -- so I momentarily had a view around his kitchen, which I haven't seen in person for nearly a year now. And it was so distractingly delightful to have that glimpse of this ordinary space of his life, that it took an extraordinary amount of energy to refocus and remain in the conversation and not allow the unexpected pang generated by the view to inflate and pop right then. 

One of the small blessings of being so extraordinarily busy lately, is that it is easier not to think about how much I miss having my Friend nearby, about the small joys of being able to make a meal, go for a walk, play Scrabble in person. The flip side, though, is the weight when it makes itself known, like a clap of thunder and a cloudburst in the desert -- a deluge of sorrow, of the knowledge of what I am missing. 

This is the price we pay for having a Friend. 

It's always worth the Price, though.