I say "we're okay" or I say "Hanging in there." I ask "How about you?" and get more of the same. Because what can you say. Can you say "Me? I fantasize about how I could just kill myself if I had to, and I lie to my psychiatrist when she asks me if I have thoughts like that.
I have to keep my days simple, because any stress at all would trigger
me to stay in bed, have fraught nightmares, or cry and have a panic
attack. I can make it through a day fine until I have to "do" something.
I can go a few days without showering because I never go outside,
because there are too many people. "It's Peoply out," I used to text Joe
when I came back from a doctor's appointment or therapy session, which
were the only reasons I would leave the house, and that was before all
this COVID-19 stuff. Now I have telehealth doctor's appointments. I
haven't left the house since March. This is almost August.
Daytime. I sit and sew, or do a crossword puzzle, watch TV or draw in my sketchbook. I can't always draw, so it makes me happy when I feel the urge and can actually focus on something for a little while. Right now I have a full page going that's a great many tiny little faces in a crowd, so I am drawing all kinds of people. It's weird that I'm drawing a crowd. Crowds are one of my problems. In the before-times, I would let one or even two busses pass me if I thought they were too full. On those occasions where I HAD TO get on the bus because otherwise I'd be late to my appointment, I would keep repeating "you're fine, you're fine" and keep my mind focused on anything other than the press of bodies against me. Unfortunately "focus" is kind of my biggest problem right now. I can't focus. I can't focus on anything. I tried a couple of times to follow a new recipe to mix it up in the kitchen, and I'm finding it impossible to maintain enough concentration to follow a recipe. Reading is right out, except for tweet-and-post sized nuggets. Writing comes and goes. Sometimes I can smoke a little weed and downshift into a mode where my brain is, yes, racing a bit but I can keep up with it and do some free writing. That is what you are reading right now.
How I am is scared. There's a highly contagious possibly deadly virus. Socially and politically the world is on fire. At night my dreams are showing me all manner of stressful workplace-related situations. There is always an emergency, I am always the one who has to solve it, and I never know what I am supposed to do. These dreams are different from last year's dreams--those were me alone in a hoarders-looking-room in the dark and I'm desperately searching for something while I know that outside the door are a house full of people waiting for me. I cannot leave the room no matter how hard I try and I can't find what I need among the boxes and tables piles with stuff. These new dreams are filled with people and it's my responsibility to take care of everyone. Sometimes real people are there and have words. My old bosses. I hate these dreams.
I can say that I am happy about one thing, and that's that I get to spend this much time at home with Joey.
We make art and music and radio playlists, and we play board games.
Interesting thing about that is I'm not a "board game person" and if you
don't know any of those, find some because every Board Game Person that
I know leads an interesting life. I'm not saying YOU aren't leading an
interesting life. I'm sure many non-BGP have perfectly interesting
lives. But I am saying that every BGP does. Joe is a BGP but,
when he couldn't get me into Risk, Axis & Allies or Star Wars
X-wing, he made it a mission to find games I'll like, and he did it.
Hive, Tiny Epic Quest, Carcassone and Forbidden Island are the four board
games he's found so far that I like. It's a low-stress way to spend time
together while such thing is perpetual. He'll take a break from his
work laptop to play a quick game. It refreshes him, and gives me
something to do for twenty minutes. At night we'll play a longer game. These can be tiring for me but I do it because I get to spend this time with Joey.
Joe is my rock. I don't know what I'd do without him. He tells me I'm doing great, he tells me he loves me. I braid his hair and rub his shoulders. I thank God every day for this life. That's how I am, I guess. I am thankful.
How are you?
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