Memento Mori: August & September 2024

I’d be lying if I said things to be remembered aren’t carrying over into the month of August. It carried over so much that I didn’t feel compelled to post anything for that post. I purposely waited until my September post so I guess you can say this is a 2 for 1. Might be kind of lengthy too so…

The political climate played a big part in me not wanting to share anything I wrote. The older I become the more I see that whether I want to be involved in politics or not, ALL of our existences are affected by ALL of the people running this godforsaken country. Whether it is on a local, state, or federal level, all forms of government are detrimental to us right now. It sickens me to see our entire country being run by CONGRESS while we sit and fight among each other about who is worse for us… the Black woman or the white Supremacist.

People are scared for a multitude of reasons; some valid and some wildly irrational. We live in a country that doggedly prioritizes profit over people and we have a government that is supposed to be of consistent service to the people but instead operates like a business. Necessary budgets for the growth of humanity are extinguished in the dead of night while other budgets that should be more closely monitored for improperly allocated funds, are protected from proper auditing. This entire country focuses on money, while demanding to know why there is poverty, poor physical/mental health, a housing crisis, broken families, and struggling communities. For everything to be about money, it’s odd for this to not be acknowledged when talking about the collapse of society. It’s always going to point to excessive use of funding in the wrong areas… and greed.

I bring this up in my Memento Mori because I want this moment to be remembered with clarity.

I don’t want to forget the disdain I have for willful ignorance. I don’t want to forget the selfishness we’re exhibiting in our constant display of self-interest being more important than our collective responsibility to community. I want a point of reference should I lose my way in this capitalistic nightmarish hellscape of survival.

While keeping this in the forefront of my mind, I’m also making room to take care of mental state and not letting this consume me to the point of my own health failing. How have I been managing to do this? Limiting my use of social media even more, while redirecting my focus when I am checking in… and sharing less of my thoughts publicly online. I’ve still been writing but once we make something public, we invite others to have an opinion. Yes, I know we can say meaningless shit like “MY PAGE/PROFILE, MY RULES!” but when we make our thoughts/content/lives available to others the only thing we can choose is whether we respond… or turn off all the comments. Either way, I could have just kept my words to myself if I REALLY didn’t want outside views. And it’s okay to want our words just for ourselves… because I also sometimes don’t feel like reminding anyone that no one MUST respect other opinions, warranted or otherwise.

Moving on…

There are so many things I want to accomplish before I say my final goodbye to this earthly existence. I’m in my second half of life and despite the world being in flames around me, I think I still have a little space left to enjoy some life. Before we get to 100% survival of the apocalypse and dystopian society Octavia Butler prophesied about in her writings, I can still make attempts to thrive.

During the month of July, I had meaningful conversations with friends that I will never forget. Talking about family, friends, trauma, parenting, our worst fears, our unlived dreams. What is etched in my memory is how their voices sounded as they talked about their hopes and fears; their faces as they contorted from hopelessness to excitement and from exhaustion to acceptance. These are priceless memories that effortlessly bled into August.

As I keep doing the work to heal the parts of me that hurt the most, it’s getting easier to spend less time ruminating on tough conversations I need to have. It’s getting easier to choose better for myself instead of falling back into what’s familiar. What’s surprised me the most is how easy it’s becoming to LET GO without my usual diet of emotional suppression added to the recipe of detachment. When I was younger, I used to quickly let go and move on… or at least that’s what I was telling myself so I wouldn’t have to accept how deeply my feelings were hurt. Suppression should have been my middle name. However, you can only push shit down so much before it starts corrupting parts of yourself you don’t want tampered with… I often say my daughter has been my major catalyst for change and I mean it 100%.

I don’t think I should keep her as a crutch for my progress because that isn’t consistently healthy. What happens when she no longer needs me as an example of decency the way she does now? Then what reason will I have to stay physically/mentally healthy? What would stop me from going back to the dysfunction I knew best? As I’ve changed my habits and patterns it becomes more clear that there’s a reason that people change AND ONLY MAINTAIN THEIR CHANGE when they do it for themselves instead of another person. These last few months have been full of me accepting that even though my daughter was the reason for my change, I’m the reason I don’t go back to what’s comfortable, easy, and familiar. All this work I’ve done over the last 15 years… I think about how it will literally be for nothing if I don’t accept that I continue to do this for myself. As I tackle all of the hard things and don’t feel completely torn to shreds inside anymore, I accept that I don’t want to feel the opposite of this ever again. I’ve gotten to a place of developing healthy emotional processes, space to feel whatever I want for however long I need to, and freedom to move on from people who don’t want a healthier version of me. It’s no longer optional. It’s a necessity.

And THIS is why I KNOW I can let go of anything and everyone that is no longer good for me.

That’s really what July, August, and hopefully September will continue to be about.

LETTING GO AND MOVING ON… to whatever better I can grasp for myself.

Memento Mori: January 2024

A new year has arrived and I’m committed to everything I haven’t succeeded in yet that’s of interest to me. Last month I said that I was going to be leaning into feeling more and I have to rephrase that… I don’t have a problem feeling anything. I’ve experienced issues with properly processing what I feel and then moving on. Suppression was my best efforts at NOT dealing with anything that caused me abnormal amounts of anxiety. Suppression was also useful for just ignoring anything that caused me discomfort. I learned early on that most people can’t tell the difference between suppression and genuinely not giving a fuck about anything. Because of that, using the veneer of assholery suited me well… until it didn’t.

A lot of my change was prompted by the choice to become a mother. I’m absolutely positive if I hadn’t chosen to be a parent, it probably would have taken a near death experience to move me away from the protective defense mechanism that inched far too close to sociopathy. Unfortunately life, not just my childhood, laid a pretty solid yellow brick road of mental dysfunction that made suppression acceptable. I wanted better for the kiddo so as difficult as it is to do and be different than what I was raised to be, I’ve been consistently doing it for the last 14 years.

When I say consistent I mean I haven’t given up on being the change I wish to see. Yes, IT IS easier to match people’s petty, disrespectful, inconsiderate, selfish, and nonchalant energy. That rush of dopamine I get when I know that I’ve gotten under someone’s skin that thought they got the better of me? If I could shoot it directly into my veins, I just might give up on this 14-year consistency. HOWEVER, the high doesn’t last and it’s so short-lived that I’m quickly reminded that in order to maintain it, I’d become someone I’d never want my daughter to emulate. Welcome to the brain of an addict. I still want a lot of things that are FUCKING TERRIBLE for me… but in my remembering that eventually we all die, I know I’m not ready… yet.

So, about January… in my efforts to keep working on being a better human, I’m going to start some new holiday traditions with the kiddo. We aren’t close to our families; with the exception of my nephew, I don’t regularly engage my blood relatives. It isn’t due to having no desire to be close to people who share my DNA; it’s 100% due to moving away from dysfunction. This is often referred to breaking generational curses and it’s one of the harder parts. Mainly because as you change, if you still keep the company of those who aren’t changing and won’t, conflict will arise on a regular basis. Familial interaction becomes like oil and water about damn near everything. So, while I’m fully aware that children need more than just one solid person in their lives, I can’t wait on everyone to show that she’s important. I’m still responsible for my part.

Spending the week of Christmas with one of the best friends was a reminder that I don’t have to wait for anyone to include us. While that was a great and unexpected gesture, the kiddo and I spend most holidays in our home. We might go catch a movie and do a little shopping but nothing that I’d consider memorable or different from our usual weekend life. Spending the holidays in New Orleans with both sides of the besties family was like a huge bear hug though… very warm and welcoming. It reminded me of my favorite grandmother too. I never questioned if she loved me because I felt it… something I don’t feel from anyone in my family but my nephew and daughter.

So this January I pledge to exude as much of that love my grandmother gave me, to my daughter. Which leads to a word that has been randomly popping up for the last six months: accessibility.

I think some people had grown used to me being available whenever they wanted/needed me, to the point that they began to take me for granted. The idea that I’m not going anywhere, I guess created space for some people to be like it didn’t really matter how they treated me. You ever notice how cautious people are when they’re afraid they’re going to lose someone? Not saying that’s healthy but it’s obvious that they’ll put effort and energy into not squandering any time they do get to spend with you. In a healthier, ideal world, we would treat each other like their time and presence is always important. But alas, here we are on Earth fucking shit up simply because we can.

I don’t like feeling like I don’t matter. So, I’m changing that too. There are younger versions of myself that possessed parts worth revisiting. Moving forward with my life while others catch me when they can, suited me best. I will admit that I created space for some people to have all the access they want and need and… it’s become to my detriment. I thought I was doing it out of love for them but I think it was done more so out of fear that if I didn’t, they’d leave. To this I say, people gone leave when they want to so if they gone leave, bye. Space needs to keep being created for the things I say I REALLY want in my life and that means letting go of things and people that really shouldn’t be taking up my time and space.

Even as I write all of this, I’m well aware that letting go and actually watching people leave isn’t going to be simple. I love these people. HOWEVER, if every month I have left of this life, I’m supposed to be living it intentionally because death comes for us all, why would I waste another moment with anyone who’d gladly waste the time I have left? I want to live each day doing more of what I like, less of what I don’t, and with people who want that for me and themselves too.

January, I welcome all 31 days of you into my 44th year of life, even if it involves some painful but necessary letting go. I will grim and bear through it.

Memento Mori: December 2023

My birth month has come and gone. Entering December came a little faster than I wanted.

I turned 44 years old last month and it doesn’t feel any different than 43 but that’s life. I’ve only had a few birthdays when something felt significantly different. I owe those to major life changes that happened within the prior year. I will say something that happened in the last year that feels different is acknowledgement from a couple of people that felt more genuine than I’ve ever felt in my life. Sometimes people say things because they think they’re supposed to and I can feel that obligatory energy. It’s not even difficult to describe because it’s very different from someone specifically stating things in detail that let you know they SEE you.

For instance, I have friends who tell me that I am a good mother but… WHY are YOU saying I’m a good mother? Because of the obvious? I make sure Bug is fed, clothed, educated, and loved. That’s legit basic low level parenting shit. Not to downplay it but I’m supposed to do that regardless of what life throws at me. However, when someone says something detail oriented that indicates they have been closely paying attention to what I do as a mother/parent? It’s hella different.

A close friend recently acknowledged some heavy life shit that I have been dealing with alone. They apologized for not being as present of a friend in the last few years of me dealing with getting divorced, losing a parent, moving across country, raising a child with no familial support (solidarity), having a major surgery, finishing up my bachelors degree, and having chronic illnesses. Even typing that out was a bit exhausting. I must be honest and say I haven’t processed my father’s death or this stupid, fucking divorce that took far too long to be over and done with. I haven’t processed a lot of the 44 years I’ve lived that involve traumatic ass shit because I haven’t had the space to just fucking fall to pieces.

I don’t advise anyone to suppress heavy shit. It’s so fucking draining and little bits of your unprocessed shit will either start randomly leaking out or you’ll full blown bleed all over anyone who gets close to you. We can have the attitude that we don’t have time to sit and work through shit because we gotta pay these bills, feed these children, and keep one foot in front of the other. We’re only fooling ourselves into putting off the inevitable breakdown that’s coming. This Memento Mori reminds me to fully live the rest of my life as I wind down to the eternal nap and in doing that, I have to acknowledge all of the life that I’m refusing to process. With that being said, I’m going to be open to more moments of tears, talking about how I feel, and asking (fuck that, begging) the universe to align me with people who don’t act like they’re allergic to feeling and having all the emotions.

I also watched Indiana Jones: Dial of Destiny and cried at the end. My dad loved Indiana Jones but also when Indy’s goddaughter “selfishly” told him he couldn’t stay in 215 B.C. before punching him in the jaw? Seeing her moment of vulnerability that was saying Indy you can’t stay here because I NEED YOU, is what made me cry. Indy was being a crotchety old fuck, acting like he didn’t need or care about anyone but he just needed a reminder that HE was cared about too.

And that’s also what I need in December… to be FULLY reminded (see: SHOW ME) by more people that I’m cared about because I don’t feel it most days… and it could just be these stupid as fuck perimenopausal hormones but I got a good 40-50 years left in me. I can afford to keep saying I want to be cared about until the very end.

It’s true that we cannot solve our problems with the same tools that created them so I have to clean out my emotional tool box. All of the sensitive parts of me might feel like foil on fillings but eventually those silver bitches get replaced with something healthier and more sustainable. Eventually, I won’t cringe at all of the things that once triggered me because I’ll learn how to manage all the emotions I steered clear of for so long. So December, give me your best shot at making me feel.