Bye, Decade

This last decade was one of toilet-selfies, post-op selfies, selfies featuring my sleep mask (good for sleeping, but also cushioning the forehead while resting on the toilet seat), and in-bed selfies.  The most remarkable things were sprinkled in between, but at the heart of it, this last decade was home to my illness.  

2010 was the year I spent time in a rehab facility, after one too many ‘professionals’ told me my illness was all in my head.  It was 2011 before I finally found a doctor who took my suffering seriously, underwent my first surgery, and finally received my Endometriosis diagnosis.  

This last decade has been a rollercoaster of sick and relief.  I’ve woken up feeling completely normal, and utterly thankful, and I’ve woken up unable to leave bed.  I’ve been the most amazing mother and partner, and I’ve been completely useless.  I’ve been able to start my own business(es), and I’ve been too sick to get a ‘normal’ job.  I’ve spent days adventuring outside of my comfort zone, and days recovering from yet another surgery.  I’ve made the most remarkable friends, after losing so many because I was too sick to keep up.  I’ve volunteered for school events, and I’ve napped away entire school days.  

It is a teeny depressing to realize that at the end of an entire decade, I’m not ‘fixed’.  It’s been a decade of fighting to figure shit out, and I’m still fighting and figuring.  I am healthier, overall, then I was 10 years ago, and that’s a pretty hopeful feeling.  I also get scared wondering if this might be the best I’ll ever feel.  I’m only 34 (almost), do I start ‘settling’ now?!

Don’t get me wrong, I’d take today’s feelings over 10 years ago, any day!  Today I am achy, and the kind of tired that blows my mind every time (because I napped yesterday and slept very decently last night, so wtf?!), but 10 years ago I felt worst then this, every single day.  After years of only sick days, I get to experience good days, and even really good days.  And that is never lost on me. (And I’m thankful Instagram makes it so easy to scroll through and remind myself of all of the really good days, while I’m stuck in the bathroom!)

I have a feeling that 2020 will be full of acceptance. Or at least me trying really hard to accept things.  Menopause murdered my self-esteem in 2019.  I hated the way my body looked, for the first time since high school.  The game that my hormones (natural and synthetic) have been playing has been destroying my complexion lately, and I’m honestly trying to to cry about the sudden influx of white hairs I’ve been plucking out of my already thinning head.  

I’ve gotten a really good hold on my anxiety, and in that sense I feel strong and mentally healthy.  (Fuck, that’s a MEGA feat in itself!)  But I know this next year, the start of this next decade, will be full of hard work to remain positive, and optimistic, and loving my physical self despite all the the inevitable changes.  Come to think of it, I guess that’s my only ‘resolution’; more self-care, in order to keep loving all of me.  And also blogging/ journaling more.  Or at least not leaving said blogging to the last minute so that I’m not just annoyed and bored and can’t think of any decent words because I’m over it already, blah blah blah

lol  😏)

Christmas Cry

I had my annual Christmas-cry, last night.  

Does anyone else suffer from such things? lol 

Mostly it’s sentimentality; all the lights and the snow and kids being excited for school to be done, and all the plans to put our nice clothes on for.  It’s overwhelming, in a good way!  But also, my heart feels the need to take a moment to mourn my childhood.  Which sounds so dumb, because mourning is associated with sad things, and my childhood was pretty glorious..especially Christmas.  But every Christmas, I get far too sad about those Christmases being over.

I think a chunk of me died, the day I came to terms with Santa not being real.  I was in Grade 8, I held on to that magic for dear life!  And there was no Instagram, and no political correctness being discussed on the playground, so until I was basically a teenager, I had no reason not to believe.  I appreciated getting to be part of making the magic for my younger siblings, and it’s when I started to understand that Christmas magic and cheer is about more then Santa and presents.. but it’s never been the same.  

Nothing feels the same as the hour my little brother and sister would sit in my bed, up too early on Christmas morning, while I read the same Christmas book over and over, until we were finally allowed to wake our parents up.  I haven’t done many drugs, lol but what I have done, never came close to that utter anticipation.  

And we were all SO in love.  It’s less about the fact that my family has since become a ‘broken’ one, and more about how much we all just loved on each other during the Christmas holidays.  We did a great job fighting like all siblings did, but never at Christmas time.  And especially not Christmas Day!  We’d stay in our jammies, sharing our Disney figurines, or figuring out my brother’s new Nintendo.  We’d watch new movies and share each other’s stocking-treats, before eventually getting dressed for dinner.  

We have the most wonderful collection of home movies, so sometimes I wonder if my memories are actual memories, or just remembering what I’ve watched.. but not Christmas.  Those smells, and those albums my parents played every year, and those feelings, those are seared into me.  And I fucking miss it.  

Blah, blah, blah!  I have my own family now, and that DOES mean that childish magic starts all over again.. though, now I’m worrying that Christmas will never be AS magical for my kid, because he doesn’t have someone to share Disney figures, or Nintendo with..

On the way home from the movies, the gps took me the most bizarre way, and while panicking about probably being lost, and dying in a ditch, I was suddenly on a street where every house was COVERED in lights.  I had Amy Grant’s Christmas album on (I don’t know why Tennessee Christmas means so much to me, lol I am the opposite of a Southern girl, but it was always on in the house), and all the tears came out!  All the way home!  But then I opened the door and the Christmas tree was on, both my guys were fast asleep together, and all was ok, again.

And now we move on, lol.  And eat too much dessert!  And just try to sleep on the 24th, even though we’re so freaking excited because we know our kids are so freaking excited!  And we can live vicariously through their excitement.. and take some pleasure in knowing that we’re the ones creating so much of the magic (just like our parents did)!