1825 Days

So, I recently got a notification from WordPress congratulating me on my fifth-year anniversary of creating my blog. Five years is a long damn time and is certainly longer than I imagined blogging when I first started. Granted, I took the better part of a year off from this blog (although I continued to blog on the other site, so there’s that), but I’m here now at least. I’m gonna do a tiny bit of reflecting on the last five years.

When I first started the blog, it was called “Blogging for Therapy.” I was dealing with severe depression and anxiety at the time, and I thought actual therapy was bullshit, so writing seemed like the perfect outlet.

And it did help somewhat. Being able to get my thoughts and feelings out (most of which were later deleted, because cringe) in what I considered a safe space was good for me. I know sometimes I got way too inside my head and rambled almost incoherently, but it was still better than sitting around keeping things bottled up. Writing out stuff like that can really help make certain situations become clearer. And maybe some shit isn’t as bad as it seems at first.

What helped even more than writing was the support I received from other bloggers who could relate. After I was encouraged to try therapy, I finally did, a year or so into my blog journey. I found an excellent therapist who was incredibly helpful, and my anxiety went from a 15 on a scale of 1 to 10 to a 4 on an average day. It’s so damn nice not to be constantly ready to go off the deep end. Sure, there’s always some anxiety there (and I imagine that’s due, in part, to my personality), but I know how to manage it now. And getting with a different psychiatrist and being diagnosed and medicated correctly helped a lot with the severe depression. Things aren’t perfect, of course, but manageable, which is everything. I only wish I had done this years ago instead of wasting Baby Girl’s infant/baby time trying to keep my shit together (and often failing).

And then there has been all of the blogging about the kids, which is what I post about more these days. The boy was 6 and the girl was a couple months old when I created this blog. And now, as most of y’all know, I now have a 6th grader and kindergartener. Time really does pass by far too quickly. It doesn’t seem like that long ago that I wrote about a little boy getting bit by an ant while disturbing an ant pile to try to find the queen ant and see her crown. It was obvious that BG was a force to be reckoned with when she was only a few months old, and that has certainly held true.

As for me, I was 30 and worried about getting old and leaving behind my youth (because apparently up through 29 = youth). Now I’m almost 36 and am not too concerned with being older. (Dying, on the other hand, is a different story. I creep out my husband when I get worried about that and ask him why he isn’t bothered about being halfway done with his life.) When I first started blogging, one of my hopes was to publish something one day. And I did — a few things, actually. The first thing I published was a story I wrote on this blog while hypomanic and being unable to sleep. Thanks, blog!

So, five years. Hundreds of days, hundreds of posts, thousands of comments. Happy blogiversary to me and thanks for following along. I get cake now, rightt?

30 Minutes In The Life…

I need to start keeping a list of blog topics again. An idea popped in my head while I was in the bathroom earlier, and I thought it’d make for a decent blog post. (It wasn’t about anything bathroom-related.) So, I made my way into the living room and sat down at my computer and got a notification that I needed to take medicine.

Reminder: medicine 10:00, daily

It was more than an hour past when I should’ve taken it, so I got up. Once in the kitchen, I saw that the eggs were left out that I brought in this morning from grocery shopping. And by grocery shopping, I mean that I ordered a bunch of stuff on my Walmart Grocery app and picked up everything before I dropped off Baby Girl at school. I hate going in Walmart with a passion, plus they remodeled the damn store and moved everything around, so I’ve been using the app. The app came in especially handy this week since I’m dealing with a cold-sinus thing. When I got home, I put away everything but the eggs. Dammit. Back to the computer.

How long do eggs stay good when left out?

Google said eggs can stay out at room temperature for two hours. Seeing how I got a notification that my groceries were ready at 7:45 and it was past 11:00, things weren’t looking good for the eggs. I put them in the refrigerator anyway and will let my husband test them out. I can’t throw away 18 eggs unless I know for sure that they’re bad, and he’ll taste test anything. (Seriously, though. I told him the other day that I don’t know what I’ll do if he dies before I do, because then I won’t have anyone to check to see if food is still fresh.)

After putting the eggs away, I noticed the gallon of bleach on the table. I bought it because there’s a stain of some sort in the toilet and I’m hoping that will take care of it. I poured a cup of bleach in the toilet and then realized I didn’t know how long I can leave bleach in the toilet before it eats a hole in the plaster or whatever.

How long can I leave bleach in the toilet?

And then I noticed the notification in the top corner of my screen was still there reminding me to take my medication.

Reminder: medicine 10:30, daily

So I took it.

And after I took my medication, I cleared off the kitchen table, wiped down the table and the counters, and contemplated folding one of the baskets of clothes by the back door. I decided against that because nothing looked too wrinkly.

Back to the computer desk. The Google tab was still open from my bleach search, and I saw that it’s recommended you leave bleach in the toilet for 10 minutes. Okey-doke, timer set for 10 minutes. And then I got to the reason I sat down at this computer desk in the first place — the post.  I opened up WordPress, ready to write about the topic I was excited to write about earlier, but then my brain totally blanked. I hoped that by writing all of this out, I would trigger something and the idea would come again, but it didn’t.

Oh well.

And now you know how I spent the last 30 minutes of my day.

In case you’re wondering, I actually did flush the bleach on time, but it didn’t get the stain. Yuck. Google tells me that it’s probably lime build-up, so I guess I’ll buy something for that later.

Tuesday Brain Dump

“I bet you’re getting a lot of writing done now.”

Three people have said this to me over the past week. Each time I smiled and nodded enthusiastically in a way that indicated I was indeed working on the next big thing. Look at me, with all my free time, being productive! My stepmom, who never takes an interest in anything I do, took an interest and asked what. Dammit, woman. I told her about an outline for a YA novel I wrote several months ago because I wasn’t admitting to working on nothing right now and sounding lazy. I don’t know why they expect me to be writing so much in the week the kids have been back to school.

In reality, I’ve written nothing more than some blog stuff. I’m sure I’ll get around to working on that outline or some other outline that probably won’t go anywhere, because my ability to finish a writing project that is longer than 20 pages doesn’t exist it seems, but right now, nada.

So, I didn’t get the Big Job, it appears. I wrote about being sent a contract for a writing job and then not hearing anything back after signing the contract. I went against my husband’s advice and reached out and heard nothing. I’m not sure why you would send someone a contract and then not give them actual work, but whatever. I’m equal parts bummed and relieved because with riding all over the country for these kids’ schools, BG’s therapy, and other crap, I’m not sure where a fullish time job would fit right now. Okay, maybe it’s not equal parts anything (I’m 90% bummed), but I guess it’s sort of a silver line? Hmm.

I whined to my husband about it. He told me not to worry and that I didn’t need to move into something so quickly anyway. I ignored him and whined more about wanting to make money and feeling like things don’t ever work out, which made him roll his eyes. Mr. Corporate America himself told me I shouldn’t be selling myself out for corporate America in the first place. Okay, then. I’m allowed to be disappointed. 

Yesterday LM asked me for some needle-nose pliers and wire cutters. I gave them to him, happy to see that he was building something. And then I asked what he was making.

“A lock-picking kit for school.”

I asked why.

“In case I forget my combination. There’s a place for a key in the back. I could whip out my lock-picking kit and get in.”

Oh boy. I told him nope because the school has a master key for those locks, and I was pretty sure that they’d frown on a student being able to open every locker in the school. Also, carrying around a bunch of wires in his pocket would not be good. He didn’t understand why. Really, son? You don’t know why poky wires in your pocket near your junk isn’t a good idea? Hmm.

He decided that he’d continue with his set anyway so he could open any door in our house. He wanted to be able to get in the front door if we got locked out and couldn’t find the spare.

First, you really have no concern for the poky wires, do you?
Second, you are so not fucking with the door that is already fucked up. I can barely get in as it is.

The kid ended up locking himself out of the bathroom in an effort to show off his lock-picking abilities. The bathroom has an exterior door on it for whatever reason, so it has a real lock. One that we don’t have the key for. LM offered to kick down the door, noting that it’s possible he’d break the wood but that the hinges would probably be okay. My husband got it open.

Whew, BG was a mess to get ready for school this morning. She refused to open her eyes, because if her eyes weren’t open, then she wasn’t awake and couldn’t go to school. That’s how she explained it, anyway. I got the pajamas off her little stiff-as-a-board body and dressed her. After getting her shoes on and telling her that she really need to stop messing around so I could brush her teeth and hair, the waterworks and kicking and screaming began. After I got her calmed down, I carried her out to the bathroom and found LM dancing while drinking a Capri Sun. He wasn’t fully dressed, of course. We got out the door on time, though, and LM didn’t forget his backpack like he did yesterday.

I took BG for breakfast at the place with the legit best chicken sandwiches. She did not eat, but at least we got a picture of her favorite stuffie of the day.