Walk with me for a moment

in november, my fiance and i broke up. it was the end of an on again off again 5 year relationship. often broken by their refusal to get help and fixed by promises to get help that never came. i still call them my fiance though, after all of that. i know we aren't getting back together, and ex-fiance is the appropriate term to use now. i understand that. as bad as things got, as much hardship and struggle they placed me in, i felt they always deserved a chance at getting better. that they could once again be the person i laid next to one night and confessed my love for.

every month, at the end of the month since breaking up. mail arrives at my house for them. it is the type of mail one would want to arrive at their current address, and would be quick to correct the address of if they had moved. it is not my mail to open, the contents are unknown and will stay that way. every month they go back in the mailbox noting that this is the incorrect address for them. every month it is a reminder that they may be unhoused, that they may not be getting help. that they may not be here any more

i'm unsure what to do about this. ending a relationship means grieving, i understand that. how do i make peace with someone possibly not being here any more with out ever knowing that is the case? despite everything bad that happened, they deserved help. they deserved a life of happiness, even though it would no longer be with me. it is easy to say this isn't my concern any more, that it shouldn't have been sooner than later when they could not be trusted to get help. i just can't see it that way. my heart aches at the idea of someone i once cared for never getting the chance to be happy. i'll never know for sure. i was never able to contact them the first time the mail showed up. i never met any of their family or friends

i'm not owed an answer to this, we very rarely get closure to traumatic events in our life. it is instead important that i focus on getting better, and grieving the end of the relationship. hopefully this is just a mistake, maybe they did honestly forget and they are getting help just like i am. that is what i will hope for. i can't know otherwise, so i must hope

i had awaken from an early morning nap today. i heard my mom on the phone, it sounded like someone from our family. i didn't think much of it. there's usually not much to think of, they keep in touch with my mom but never seem interested in knowing about me or what i'm up to. i went about my usual routine of making a 2nd pot of coffee. my mom asks me if i want to talk to my cousin. i was surprised. i think it has been over 10 years since i've talked to this cousin

the phonecall started how phonecalls usually go with me when i barely know someone. i don't really elaborate, one word answers, no sign of interest or disinterest. they brought up my cat that they remembered, and i couldn't help but talk about the creature i love. so i gushed about baxter and they told me they had two cats. they asked me about my year, and the conversation about baxter has disarmed me i think, i was honest. i told them i was diagnosed with adhd this year and they told me they had also been diagnosed with adhd in their 30s. this was something that i wasn't expecting. we both related with how it made so much sense, we both knew why as children we weren't diagnosed. i felt seen by the last person i would expect, a family member

we talked more about how my mental health wasn't great. they were affirming, and supportive of me seeking help and getting better. sharing their own stories about getting help with their mental health. what was going on here? why is my family nice to me now? no one ever wanted to talk to me before and it feels like this past 10 years i've been talking to my cousin constantly because we're having such an honest heartfelt conversation

for now my mom is the only one that knows i'm a woman, and this was our first phonecall in 10 years so i felt it better to see how this goes. is this genuine interest from my family to want to know me now? when my mom got off the phone she told me that 3 of my cousins very much love me and want to get to know me better. i told her i didn't know what to do with the emotion i felt when she said that. i never expected to hear that in my life. it was nice, to feel cared for by someone other than my mom for once. that there was genuine interest in wanting to know me and it was people i had always wanted to know better too

this was the last thing i expected today, and it is currently 1 pm. it is certainly nice to know some of my family wants to know me, and will hopefully want to know the real me with time as well too

a few weeks ago in a post i had written that the holiday season is notoriously tough for those with mental illness. i think i had bitten off more than i could chew coming into this holiday week. i was quite confident last week, full of happiness, and positive energy. my therapist and i were talking about how working on small tasks even though depression tries to get us not to can help us accomplish tougher tasks. i thought i was ready for one of those tougher tasks.

in 2020 i started vaping. the reason for picking it up makes sense to me, and i'm not ashamed that i picked up this habit. it was the middle of lockdown, my ex was battling cancer, and a surprise jaw infection had nearly killed them a few weeks earlier. we scrambled to find somewhere that could give them the antibiotics they needed, and were so lucky to find a place that littler saved their life. and so on top of all of this, i was in therapy and on medication. my therapist was homophobic, but i was too beat down to speak up. my psychiatrist was as helpful as they could be. on top of all of this, the neighbor above us liked to take women home and beat them, nearly every night. we knew what was going on, we weren't stupid. no one would do anything about it, no matter how many times we called the cops no one would listen.

i started to question if the things i was experiencing were real. was this all a bad dream? would i just wake up at my mom's house and it would all be okay? sometimes i really hoped that was the answer, but nothing was helping. i knew one thing, i came from a family of alcoholics, and reaching for the bottle would do no good. nothing good would come from that. so i reached for nicotine, even though i watched my grandmother die from lung cancer when i was 15 from a lifelong smoking habit. there was nothing else left to help me, no resource that i could get my brain to think about to reach out to. i was at the end of the line, and something had to give. so one night, on my way to work at the webhost. i stopped at a gas station and picked up a vape. i sat outside work in the parking lot and inhaled. the battery was charged, i coughed my ass off cause vapes kind of burn when you aren't used to them. i took another inhale. it happened, for 15 minutes, the world was okay. i felt alright. i looked forward to work, i was at peace. i wasn't worried. it is about as simple as that, it gave me 15 minutes of peace every so often, that medication, my therapist, nor my partner could give me.

four years later i've kept the habit. my partner left me, i have a different much nicer therapist, the guy that once lived above me in that apartment building finally got jail time for what he did. but i still vape. it doesn't give me those 15 minutes any more. it is just something i do. i tried quitting for the first time yesterday. it started well, but i stumbled. my mind began racing as i entered withdraw. my heart was racing like a panic attack, and my anxiety medication couldn't help me. so i dug through my trash like an animal to find a half used old tank of juice for my vape. and i inhaled, and i cried. because i failed myself. i let myself down. no one suffers for this but myself

maybe this is too much to ask of myself to do right now. it has been quite the end of the year. i'm not exactly mentally strong. resilient yes, but perhaps not ready to face a demon like a nicotine dependency. maybe this is something i can visit when i am stronger, and better off over all. still, i'm a little mad i couldn't do it. i really wanted it to work

this is a blog post for the 32-Bit Cafe's holiday event i encourage you to participate in either or both events if you have something you'd like to share.

on friday nights i often find myself in my head a lot. i sit down and think about the week, the month, the year. at the end of it i try to come away from it satisfied with what i've accomplished. it isn't exactly easy to accomplish things right now for me. i had a breakup in november, and am working my way through the disability process as my psychiatrist feels i should no longer work full time for the benefit of my mental health. the world for someone like me, who knows with all of her heart that she is a woman, but doesn't look the way people expect a woman to look is not friendly, and probably won't be for a long time.

i look at the paragraph above. and the first thing i say to myself is "i'll get through it". i have struggled with my mental health since i was a teenager. i have fallen down and gotten up enough times to know the process works if you work your ass off. by doing things like reminding yourself to eat when depression takes away your appetite. cleaning your desk when depression feels your world should look like trash because you feel like trash. making a website, because as dark as your mind wants to be sometimes, you know with all of your heart you have so much light and love you want to express. a website would be perfect for that wouldn't it? i think so.

there are a lot of challenges ahead of me in the coming new year. some are big, some are small. some i look forward to, some scare the shit out of me. but i will not fucking quit. i am rather determined when it comes to getting better at this point. i remember what better is, it was only a few years ago. i never forgot better, it just went away for a few years. but i can and will have it back. it is mine to have and hold and care for and embrace with the love and tenderness that is me. no one, no mental illness, will take it from me permanently. i will always fight until i have it back

all of this fucking confidence is fun and all, if this inspires you i'm glad. i also have to admit that what i've been through this year is bigger than myself, that to have this determination i posses now i needed help from many people in many ways. my mom is forever my superhero, and supported me when depression made me unable to express what i was feeling without falling apart and arguing. she is wholly affirming and supportive of the fact that i am a woman, and i cannot express how happy that makes me. my therapist listens to me, honestly listens. even if half the session is me in tears right now. we work through it, she sees the small amounts of progress i make, that are so important when it comes to eventually tackling the larger items.

community has been the most important light in my storm this year. the patrons of the 32-Bit Cafe have all in their own way been a small but strong guiding light as i venture through this storm. whether it was a wonderful website someone was proud to show off, or a wonderfully written blog post that helped me better understand the member of the community that had written it. this year i feel that i finally made genuine connections to people on the web, something i had not done in a long time. i cannot understate how important all of what the 32-Bit Cafe has been for me as a navigate my life. it itself is a lighthouse in my storm. a safe port to stay at before venturing off to fight another day.

i'm used to my life not being easy, maybe that isn't fair, maybe that's just how life is sometimes. but i think the general nature of my life and the challenges it has presented me. whether it be mental illness, a visual disability that leaves me legally blind, or that all of this and many other things leaves me often feeling this world wasn't meant for me. at the end of all of that, i always say i will keep going. i've seen too much good in this world not too. i've seen enough helpers, and have been helped enough times that i find myself wanting to be a helper now too. i hope that i can one day be someone's lighthouse, like so many people have been for me

the light in my darkness is love, it burns brightly. it is the fire i often describe that is within me. i will always choose to love and will always lead with love, because that is what i'd want for me. i've been lucky enough to experience that a lot this year. so i will keep piloting this ship, and one day i'll get out of this storm. just like i have many times before. it is worth it, i'm worth it

a late fall day, grey and rainy, warmer than usual. i'm at my desk, using a lamp that looks like an old lantern sitting behind me because my ceiling light burnt out. to be honest, i like it. the vibe in my room feels warmer than having this overhead light shine down on me. it was nice, and i think it kickstarted a few other things too.

when i am depressed, my environment is often one of the first things to suffer greatly. having ADHD makes it rather hard for me to look after my surrounding, but seeking treatment for that earlier in the year was allowing me to form a routine around cleaning. but as i fell into depression, the motivation i had for many things, was no longer to be found.

and so i sat here at my desk, that had become my trashcan because my trashcan had been full for several weeks now. i looked at what surrounded me, it was not happiness. i knew that when i sat down every time at my desk i felt defeated at this literal monster that was sitting with me. i put up with it, because sometimes that's all you can do. it becomes easy to ignore these very small but vital things because my mind is so full of much more overwhelming thoughts that i must work through. but i must remember, that my environment, especially my work area, is something that i should feel joy from. i sit here and have created beautiful things like emma's place and baxter's photo gallery so i have to sit here and acknowledge this cannot do. i must make this happier for myself, it will help.

so i did, i cleaned the desk, emptied the trash can and vacuumed. i have two plushies i placed on the desk. a cat and a penguin. when i have some money again i will get some small plushies from the pharmacy. they aren't anything amazing, but i'm sure there are some cute ones i'd be happy to greet me when i sit down at my desk.

i will most likely have to do this again, probably many times. the important thing is that i did it. that i feel the joy and satisfaction of taking control over something that was causing me stress. this is such an important process in getting better for myself. i'm really glad i did this today

later gator