White Nights and Blue Days

November 7, 2013

I really need to begin this blog post with the end because the end was just so… fitting. And not in the best way. It started to snow. As I was walking from my carport to my apartment. And I did, indeed, say aloud, “Seriously? You couldn’t wait two more minutes?” And that just summed it up.

I’m still angry. And hurt. And so very, very sad. And I spent a lot of today crying. At work. While curled up on the floor of my office. (It was surprisingly comfortable with Sofia’s blanket tucked between my cheek and my arm.) And I know that I have a lot of friends who love me and are available when I need them and when I’m ready. But I am still angry. And hurt. And so very, very sad.

Some observations:

  1. The bathroom is still too damned far away.
  2. Each time someone asks what I’m doing for “self-care”, they suggest that I get a massage. This seems like an odd suggestion. Massages are incredibly intimate. I have known my massage therapist my entire life. And I don’t think I can stand to be touched for that long yet. Trust me. I will be getting massages when I can stand to be touched again. But you’d think they’d suggest something less intimate. Like, you know, taking a walk.
  3. Along the same line as #2, these same people are always surprised to hear that I’m a writer. Like really surprised. Like they never would have considered that I was a writer if I hadn’t told them.
  4. To all of the people who say Facebook is bad for your mental health, I want to ask, “Who the hell are your friends?” ‘Cause my friends are pretty awesome. I was feeling angry and hurt and so very, very sad, so I posted that I was having a rough day. And I did because I knew my friends would say things to help me feel a little less angry and a little less hurt and perhaps only very sad. Those people who say Facebook is bad for your mental health just need better friends.
  5. And related to #4, I love that the things my friends said to help me feel better were so… them. A friend who’s a runner suggested I go for a walk because the air is wonderfully crisp and fresh today. A friend who’s a homebody suggested curling up with a movie and comfort food. A friend who’s been holding my hand through it all asked if I wanted to get lunch and talk.
  6. Having a friend who’s been there before is incredibly useful. She allowed me to bluntly tell Borgess that it didn’t matter what they said, I would still feel guilty. She’s someone I can email in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep because I’m so angry and hurt and so very, very sad. And I love that she believes in better living through chemistry when necessary. (Current recommendation is Xanax. If I can’t sleep again tonight, I think I’ll try a few Calms Forte. They’ve worked for me in the past. If they don’t work, then I’ll consider the harder drugs.)
  7. A bit of normalcy has returned: my period started today. This does make me happy. This is probably the happiest I’ve ever been for my period to start. The friend in #6 said she felt the same. It’s normal. It means my body still works. It means my body is moving forward, so the rest of me should be able to follow.
  8. And the bathroom really is way too far away from my office.


Filed under Uncategorized

2 responses to “White Nights and Blue Days

  1. Maria

    It’s weird, I mean I know you, but I think that if I was a complete stranger, it would not be surprising to me that you’re a writer.

    That is like the guy who after the Christmas concert at church last week, said to me “I didn’t know you were a singer”…. uh… I grew up in this church. My mom is the choir director. Really?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s