I still suck at keeping a blog.

Yeah, it's been over 3 years since my last post.
So much has happened, I don't even know where to start.
This is going to be a long post.

In 2016, I started dating a guy. It didn't last very long. Long enough to learn about psychopaths, though.  I'll skim over the nasty details. I'd rather forget them anyway.

After a few months of... him, I found myself suddenly homeless and I lost my mind.
Not like, "OMG I literally lost my mind!"
More like, I ACTUALLY lost my mind.  Positively blibbering.
I packed up everything I could fit into a U-Haul truck and drove home to get help.
Spent my 36th birthday alone in a Montana truck stop casino, spending money I couldn't spare and drinking free red wine.

I landed in Mom and Dad's basement.
I thank God for Mom and Dad.  Every day.  I wouldn't be alive right now if not for them.

I went to the hospital and got myself enrolled in outpatient mental health treatment, where I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and medicated.

Fast forward through 2 years of therapy, medication changes, failed work attempts, disability applications, self harm, and growth.  More on that later.  Probably a lot more, if I remember to write it down.

Now I'm out of Mom and Dad's basement and living with an incredible man.  And too many roommates (they're actually pretty cool, but I miss having my own space).

We started dating June 2017, and after so many bad experiences with men I had every expectation that he would turn out to be a shitheel like the others.  Turns out I was wrong!  I couldn't ask for a more patient, supportive, understanding, and loving partner.  We've been talking about life and family and our future and we're on the same page about everything... It's amazing!  I told him early on that I wanted kids before I turn 40, so we're planning on having my birth control implant taken out my 39th birthday... in 8 months. OMG!

He's amazing... I call him my unicorn.

His presence in my life has changed me for the better.  He healed a heart I thought was cold and dead.  He saw something valuable in me when I thought I was worthless.  He loved me when I thought I was unlovable. 

Learning to trust someone the way I trust him has been challenging.  I spent a lot of time waiting for him to lie, to cheat, to fuck me over.  I struggle with jealousy.  My paranoid thoughts, courtesy of the BP, sometimes try to convince me that he's cheating, but this time I KNOW he's a good man. I KNOW he loves me. I KNOW he wouldn't do anything to hurt me.  My guts aren't screaming at me that this is wrong... and now that I have the presence of mind to listen.

It has taken me a long time and a lot of practice to distinguish between inappropriate thoughts and those that come from a "well mind".  I'm in a constant state of self awareness.  I've taught myself to be diligent about my thoughts and to guard myself against negativity and paranoia.  To recognize the thoughts that can signal a change in mood or the onset of a depressive or manic episode.

Episodes, by the way, can cause permanent brain damage.  And they have.
Again, a story for another day.

My "ideal" life has changed...

No more tiny house.
I want a real house, with a real yard, where I can grow a real garden and raise my real babies.

No more sailboat.
Okay, maybe after he retires and we go explore the world.  At any rate, I want a real bathroom with a real shower in the meantime.

Independence. Sigh.
I have more independence now than when I was in my parents' basement, but still not as much as I'd like.  I haven't been able to work in 2 years.  My first disability claim didn't pan out... My lawyer told me to withdraw and start over because I had a weak case and a tough judge.  Still trying to get disability but I can't go on living without an income.  I have some hopeful prospects for part time work, but nothing definite.  I'm not entirely sure that I can maintain stability without support.  Thankfully, I have support.

Weight. HA!
I was almost to my goal weight when I moved home (down to 175lbs!), but I was really sick.  I was so happy to be so skinny! I bought pants that were size 11, which I hadn't been able to wear since middle school!  I was REALLY sick, and not just with mental illness.  Since then, the meds have made me gain almost 100lbs and I'm currently trying to lose the "medication weight".

No more Princess Voldemort.
I'm sure she was a good cat, but she hated me.  She pissed on my head while I was asleep.  I left her at the goat farm, where I knew she would be able to live her cat life and not be taken to a shelter to be euthanized.

Calamity The Courageous Cowdog has turned out to be a lifesaver.  Literally.  She has saved my life more times than I can count.  Even now, as I'm learning stability, she's always there when I need her, by my side in times of crisis.  I try to give her the best life I can.  Hopefully someday I'll have a yard for her.  She is my heart, and, sometimes, my reason for living.

I most certainly do NOT want to be a goat farmer.  Fuck that shit.  Or sail around the world.  More on that later, too.  Hopefully.

I'm not sure what I want to be.  My goals are much less tangible these days.  I try to focus on things like positivity, stability, and small steps in the right direction.

No more sudden changes for me.
No more flights of fancy.
No more crazy adventures.
No more flying by the seat of my pants.

These days it's more about making connections, putting down roots, and growth.
Becoming a "real" person instead of an "interesting" person.
Learning to appreciate the mundane and small, everyday adventures.
Learning to appreciate stability, even though it's boring.
Learning to create healthy habits.

These days, more often than not, I find myself lonely and bored in the middle of the night.  He works graveyard and since I don't work, I'm on his schedule.  It's hard to make connections when everyone else is asleep.  I used to talk to one of my best friends late at night, but she died almost a year ago, and I miss her every day.  It doesn't matter how many times you go through the grief process, it still hurts just as much every time it starts anew.

My mind isn't what it used to be.  My memory has gone to shit and I can't remember a lot of my life.  I can't read like I used to.  I can't do algebra in my head anymore.  It's hard to focus and remember things.  I'm not as smart as I used to be.  But I'm learning to deal/live with it.  Not sure if it's the meds or the illness, but I guess it doesn't matter, it's my new reality.

I am no longer plagued by an overabundance of things.  I gave up most of my things, and the rest I haven't seen in years.  Some of it, like heirlooms from my great-grandma, I can't wait to use again, but that'll have to wait until he and I are masters of our own domain.  The rest I'll probably end up giving away.  No bigs.  I can wait.

I don't regret leaving my ex-wife.  Or any of the shit-asses I dated after her.  What I regret the most in my life is leaving the kiddo.  While it was right to leave her mom, it was wrong to leave town and leave her behind.  If I could go back, I would have stayed.  Can't go back and change the past, though.  I have to live with my regrets.  Thankfully, the kiddo doesn't hate me.  We're working on having a relationship as adults.  And that's more than I could have hoped for.  I love her, and I wish more than anything that I could have been a good parent to her.  But I failed in that respect, so now all I can do is be a good friend.

Holy cats, it's like 2 hrs past my bedtime.  And about 4 beers past my limit.
Fuck it. I needed to get this out.
Ima go snuggle with my unicorn and prepare for another day of abject boredom.
Better than being cray-cray!

Incidentally, I've been listening to Capital Cities as I write this.  On repeat.  Go figure.

Ch-ch-ch-changes...

It has been a busy weekend, to say the least.  I have an interview tomorrow morning that could really change things for me financially.  It's a work-from-home position with decent pay, good benefits, and some nice perks.  I'm really looking forward to it, as it will (hopefully) give me enough income to live on my own.

On Saturday, I told my wife that I am leaving.  We had a good run. 8 years is nothing to sneeze at, but some things just can't be fixed once they are broken.  I am far beyond placing blame at this point. We have both said and done things that hurt the other person, and after months (years) of trying to figure things out and fix them, I just can't do it anymore.  It's not that I think what we had isn't worth saving, it's that it's gone and can't be saved.  I'm not sure if she can see the difference right now, but hopefully someday she will.  We are planning on keeping this quiet for a while while we figure some things out. We are also planning to continue living together through the summer so we can each create a financial buffer for when we go our separate ways.  It is difficult for both of us, but I hope we will be able to remain friends and move on to greater things.  Even though it hurts, I feel like I made the right decision.  I feel like I can breathe again.



Sometimes, change is easy.  Sometimes.

It is time for me to lay down some plans, so here's a rough outline:

-take a deep breath
-collect pain & suffering settlement
-collect lost wages settlement
-cry
-work my butt off
-save every spare penny I can
-take a deep breath
-sell most of my stuff
-store some of my stuff
-pack a little of my stuff
-cry some more
-buy a reasonably sized sailboat with full galley and head for as little as possible
-move aboard aforementioned sailboat in a reasonably priced marina
-learn all I can about maintaining, upgrading, and sailing aforementioned boat
-work my butt off from the boat
-take a deep breath
-hopefully stop crying
-start living.


*deep breath*

Keep on truckin', kiddo, and keep the dirty side down.  You've got this.

A goal without a plan is just an idea...

Physical therapy is kicking my... neck.  Since I'm feeling pretty cruddy today, I thought I'd make a list of things I want to do someday.  A bucket list?

Learn to play flamenco guitar.

Speak Spanish fluently. Again.

Learn to play the banjo.

Buy a sailboat.

Learn to sail.

Sail back to Dutch Harbor.

Sail south along the west coast, around Cape Horn, north along the eastern coast of South America, through the Panama Canal, and north along the west coast to home.

Get to my goal weight.

Learn to SCUBA dive.

To be continued...