Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Treading water

Wow, two blogs within the same week, huh, Peepers?! What happened!

Well. The prime minister just announced that they're extending the lockdown in general, but is partially opening some things up. Mostly childcare and that sort of thing, I'm still home. It was supposed to be until the 14th, then my school decided to extend to the 20th, and now it looks like it'll be May 10th.

All festivals and summer events are cancelled, big crowds are forbidden until the end of August. All the summer LARPs, amusement parks, borders are still closed so also vacation destinations.. everything is closed.

Tbh I'm not that upset, I didn't have major plans,  so for me it only cancels an amusement park trip, which can be done in the fall if possible, or next year. It isn't the end of the world. But a lot of people are super upset, which is understandable, of course. And while I'm not too upset about the whole impact all this is having on my daily life, the negativity is starting to get to me. Not mine, other people's. It's not like I don't understand or sympathize, don't get me wrong. But the constant focus on how horrible it is and how hard it is, and how difficult it is... I can't. It's that tunnel vision behavior that I generally cannot deal with. And it's coming at me from all over, I feel, the whole internet is plastered with it, facebook is bombarding me, friends unable to distract themselves. It gets so heavy.

Yes, it's a difficult situation. But as long as you have options to not freaking dwell on it, utilize them! Seriously, I'm snapping at people left and right, cause I'm so frustrated that I can't fix shit, and it's so triggering. This whole manic attempt at establishing order in the middle of chaos.. I hate when I behave like that. But it's fucking knee-jerk, and I have to just step away from involvement if I want to avoid it. And then I'm the cold bitch who doesn't care, so it's a lose/lose pickle.

I think if I had a mantra for this time, it would be "Stay busy, stay sane". I have a ton of home improvement projects to do, that are demanding my attention, focus and time, so I don't sit around and spiral, worrying about the future and the what ifs. Because that shit is toxic, Peepers. I make sure to find silver linings, I do things that make me happy, and I make damn sure to get some sunshine on my pale scandinavian skin, to soak up all them vitamin happy's. Mostly I do that in the window, but it counts! I am, however, about to reach a breaking point when it comes to being submerged in other people's pools, so to speak, and am considering doing a day or two of radio silence to reboot my mental capacity. Recharge the good old batteries.

It's the age old thing about putting the mask on yourself before you help others.

Sunday, April 5, 2020

Two years is a long time and none at all

Hi Peepers. It's been a while.
Or, it has for you, I suppose. I've been writing, I just haven't been publishing. I have 18 unpublished entries, to be honest. Why, you might ask, but I'm going to sum up the answer to this: Sometimes you just need to share your thoughts with no one.

The last couple of years have been fucking insane. Everyone taking turns being in the hospital, myself included. I had to go back to have another cyst removed last year, and the healing process was ridiculous. Not to mention the roller coaster ride life was leading up to it. I spent about two months being told new things for each exam, with varying degrees of "You might have cancer" and "You may not be able to have kids after this" and "We might have to remove everything" being thrown at me every other moment. I basically had some very confusing test results, and was sent to a different hospital with doctors who had more expertise, but didn't know my history as well as the old one, and it all just got really intense, really fast. I'm fine, though. I still have only one ovarie, and only one scar, though it looks nowhere near as good as after the first operation. I don't mind, tbh. It's not like I was wearing crop shirts anyway, and it's better than being dead from cancer. It's just a mark.

I had to quit school druing that time. To say I was stressed was an understatement. There was no way, believe me I tried, to not drop it. I had to hardcore focus on healing for months and months, both mentally and physically, and it was so apparant how distressed I was. I was losing my hair, even. I couldn't remember anything or keep the days straight, not to mention concentrate on anything at all. It was damn horrible.

But I'm better now. I started at a different school, and though I hate it, I'm channeling that hatred into effort and can easily say I am the very top of the class. I'll be done by january, then I have to take a follow up course during next spring, and then I'll be back on the uni track by next fall. Which feels eons away, but what can you do. Life happens.

Right now we're obviously all sent home cause of the corona shit. I'm oddly thriving with that, I can do my homework all by myself, and have plenty of time for all my projects too! I've painted the bathroom and a window sill, organized my book shelves, am painting my dining room next week, organized my kitchen, got all the laundry done, reorganized my bedroom and.. Well, yeah, I'm getting a lot of stuff done, basically.

I started having really intense back issues in the fall, so I've taken up swimming to strengthen my back gently. Right now, of course, the pool is closed, but other than that, I swim twice a week. I'm realizing how fragile that is, though, since a few weeks in isolation was all it took for the back pains to peek back up over the horizon. So I've made the decision to also go back to the gym. I'll have to be careful, I know, and the worst thing is I can't run. Last time I injured my foot really bad, my doctor was like "yeah, there's no way you're ever doing high impact anything again, unless you want to end up with something amputated, your joints are just not made for it", and I take that pretty seriously. So no running. I guess it means I have to get over my aversion to the cross trainer thingy, or maybe even face my hatred of fitness bikes. Actually, no, the bikes don't get my shoulders involved, which is pretty key, so screw that. Rowing then. I'll figure it out. Once the epidemic dies down, that is.

I talked to A last night for almost 3 hours, about everything and nothing. This isolation thing is doing quite a job on all the extroverts in the world, I imagine, but personally, I kinda like it. Except the lack of exercise. But she talked about how, when all this is over, she also wants to join the gym, and maybe actually get around to get on the dating market. And how we should make an effort to at least dip a toe, so to speak. Meet new people. And I agree. But I'm also apprehensive. To me, it's never been a question of confidence or doubting that I have something to offer. I know I have. I know I can be an amazing girlfriend, and a fun flirt. But as I said, I haven't really had the desire for those things, since M.

And it took all but 10 seconds of trying to talk about him, for me to break down in tears. It's been almost 2 years since we broke up. At this point, I haven't heard a word from him in over 6 months. But he's lodged in there. I haven't talked about him since the breakup. I specifically asked people not to bring him up. And other than brief mentions in passing of his name, no talks have been had. Cause I can't. Not without my heart breaking all over again.

I'm not the kind of person to hold on to things forever. I make a conscious effort to move on, let go, and fill my life with other things than what's in the past. For some reason, I've found myself completely unable to when it comes to him. And it's not like I haven't tried to process my feelings for him, so I could maybe lessen them over time. I have. I really, really have. It's just like every time I feel like I've taken a step, the road ahead has grown longer. It's fucking horrible.

Last night, I thought about it like a baseball player who hit the ball just right, hitting it out of the park, winning the game, winning the cup, setting a fucking world record of some sort. How the hell is that player ever going to live up to that again? They're likely never going to get the opportunity again, and do something even better. If they quit and go into an entirely different business, how is it ever going to satisfy them, after that level of accomplishment?

Everyone always says they're looking for someone who makes them want to be a better person. Someone who loves them for them. With M, I didn't want to be better. I was better. Kinder, more understanding. Gentler. Stronger, not because of him, he wasn't a crutch for me. But he allowed me to be the strong one, to take up that space and own it. I have never felt more powerful, loving and.. able. Just able. Than when I was with him. And that's what I felt just within me, I don't want to talk about what I felt from him or about him. It's too painful, and I've already written pages and pages about it, back then.

It sounds so ridiculously dramatic, I know. And I hate myself for being such a stupid ass cliché. But I don't have the imagination, which is saying a lot, to come up with a scenario that could make me feel this again. And the kicker isn't that I'd have to settle with something less. Screw that, I could do that and be perfectly fine with it. But I can't do it to another person. I would literally rather be single my entire life, than make someone feel like they were my consolation prize.

And I'm happy without it. I'm not happy to be without it, but I'm happy in general. I have great friends, loving family, food on the table, a roof over my head, and I can turn just about any situation around, and find a silver lining. I haven't always had that ability, so that's a great accomplishment. I'm working towards my educational goal, working on my health, working on improving my home, and I have entertainment and a car I can borrow most of the times I need one. What more can I ask for?

I'm not walking around thinking I'm lonely or in need of a boyfriend, so it's clearly not something I need to change at this point. The lack of one doesn't make me sad. But the lack of M can absolutely make me sad, when I think about it. 2 years later, and I'm still too emotionally attached to let anyone else in. It's a sad truth, but it's the truth. My truth.

I didn't believe in The One before him. I don't believe in it now. But I believe a person can set the bar so high, that it's damn near impossible for anyone else to jump it.

I'm in a good place, really. And I'm not afraid to risk that, that's not it. I'd just like to get to enjoy it for however long I can.