One Week In
I threw a pity party and nobody came. *Chapter 21*
Ahoy from 2024! I’m out here dog-paddling.
Alan and I are just back from what was supposed to be a relaxing and well-deserved few days in Asheville, NC. We’d planned to celebrate our two year anniversary by eating great food, exploring the town and sitting in a hot tub. The reason I booked a tiny house is because I assumed we wouldn’t be in it all that much. Hahahaha. Oh what a silly joke!
Our first night’s sleep was interrupted by what turned into a three day long bout of food poisoning that poor Alan had to navigate from the confines of the aforementioned tiny house…I’ll let you use your imagination but know that this was quite literally… a TINY house. One room folks…
One.
Tiny.
Room.
I’ve deemed Alan my “Spiral Police”. He is forever seeing the bright side. Puts a positive spin on any frustration. It makes it impossible for me to fully execute a pity party. I can set the table, open the wine, have the pasta cooked and ready to serve, but not one person is gonna show up to the self sabotage soirée. Not in this house.
“You can feel depressed if you want, but we’ve got a pretty great life together if you ask me.” -Alan (lol, this quote block)
Ugh. God. Who wants perspective? Who wants truth when all ya wanna do is spiral down a drain of self-loathing and manufactured anxiety?!
Anyway, my Spiral Policeman was out sick this week leaving me to invite myself and all my other personalities to party hard. And boy did we. A bender. I’m still picking up empty beer cans and ridding the house of cigarette smoke. (Not literally, just need to wrench this party imagery for all it’s worth.)
Heading back into work on Friday was physically revolting. I felt ill explaining food and wine to innocent guests looking for a good time. Head spinning. I can’t BELIEVE this. Nauseated. How in the WORLD am I back here? Starting another year as a waitress is gonna kill me. HOW? WHY? I’M A CELEBRITY, GET ME OUT OF HERE. (Anyone here for that reference?)
Alan took Friday off to sleep. I seized the opportunity to fully spiral into self absorption. I fretted about my finances, my health, that we may have mold and a bathtub that’s giving me lead poisoning. Guilt for having made more money last year than the previous one and no idea why I have no savings to show for it. Worried that I’m going to owe money to the government for subsidizing my idiotic health insurance. Shame over feeling disappointed when all I should ever be is grateful.
Alas, Alan has healed. And while I know better than to give him full credit for my well-being, it is lovely to have a partner willing to hold up a mirror. I’m thankful for that.
I’ve done a lot of work on myself over the past decade. Hours of mediation and health journeys. Years of therapy. The big decision to move home four years ago. I’m armed with tools to heal myself. To bravely progress towards a new chapter of life. But January is dark. Literally. It’s Winter. But in this darkness, small sparks flicker.
On January 10th, 2022, Alan and I had our first date. On January 11th, 2023, stranded on my couch after throwing out my back putting on pants, I wrote my first post here. I am coming to you from January 8th, 2024 just popping my head up from a hole I dug for myself and filled with shame, guilt and disgust.
I don’t wanna feel like this anymore but I do and so I accept it. Because I know it will pass and because I am certain it’s always darkest before the dawn. I’m going outside now.
But before I do…
Here’s the list:
READING
Hark! I finally started a book. Ex-Wife by Ursula Parrott. Reprinted just last year, the novel written in 1929, is so far, surprisingly modern and a very quick read. I like it a lot!
Midnight Alien Ballet, the latest post from Suleika Jaouad’s Substack, The Isolation Journals. Her writing is always stunning but this post I found especially profound. An incredibly honest piece about how it feels to be well again after a serious and prolonged illness. She talks about how powerful creativity is in times of fear and darkness and also the healing power of dance. Ugh. I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.
This article that was shared on The 52 Project, another Substack I love. Cheryl Strayed talks about her sober-ish life. I found it a very interesting and simple take on cutting back. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and she basically described exactly how much and why I drink. Very relatable.
WATCHING
SLOW HORSES on Apple+. Wow y’all, wow wow wow. It’s British. It’s a spy/crime drama/comedy? It is SO good. Gary Oldman stars. Every episode ends on a cliffhanger. There’s 3 seasons. It’s great. What else can I say?
*We finished Better Call Saul and I was NOT impressed with the 3 episode flashback ending. Yawn.*
LISTENING
Jon Batiste’s, World Music Radio. I am, to my father’s chagrin, the least cool person when it comes to music. I never seek it out, I just listen to whatever I’ve listened to before and let Spotify radio tell me what I like. I found this through Suleika Jaouad’s article that I mentioned earlier. Jon is her husband and she mentioned dancing to the song Worship from this album. I gotta tell you, the whole thing feels like listening to pure joy. I love it so much.
I hope you all have a lovely second week of 2024. Only up from here!
xoxo.
Dig it! (Your words not necessarily the hell cave, but that’s what we do sometimes!) Good news. Your whole fam is in the ATL now. Quinn WILL cheer you up. That’s what he does!