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Been moving nonstop since 7am, it's almost noon and I need to get out the door and go hike a mountain.
Tomorrow is my day for sitting at screens and thinking and writing.
But just wanted to decompress for a sec.
Josh leaves for Grand Canyon tomorrow, a birthday trip I decided not to join him on (hence taking him to Thai last night, and brunch and REI shopping when he gets back). He's going with a friend, it'll be good. Better for me to stay home this time. I'll go to Vegas with him in March to hike Red Rock Canyon and see Alice Cooper.
Baked him a birthday pumpkin sweet potato pie this morning, along with cooking us both lunch and dinner, played with the cat, cleaned the kitchen. I crashed early last night and had restless sleep again. I keep having nightmares. One had Elon Musk in it. I guess because Tyler and Josh and I were having conversations about why anyone would ever want to accumulate more money than they can even use.
Work was hard yesterday but rewarding. I am not sure I should be giving discounts again, but I couldn't help myself yesterday. Honestly I think it is partly because of the ICE stuff. I heard waaaaayyyy too much on the news yesterday about that, waaaaay too many graphic gory details. I just want to help people around me, somehow. I want things to be different. It is so scary that this is happening literally on the heels of the deaths of the last few remaining living survivors of the holocaust. I heard about a Venezuelan family with a child being taken and how the children are being held and how someone I knew had talked about their friend who was hosting a Venezuelan family with a young child and it's just too much. We are going to be the depressed ashamed Germans paying reparations to the rest of the world, you know.
So I give discounts at work. Because suddenly this makes my work less valuable?
My poor broken trauma-brain.
This is why I hide from the news. I can barely survive as it is. I am more vulnerable than I appear. I feel like I am edging with death all. the. time.
Part of this is due to being such a close witness to my mom's death, and being so similar to her, and feeling as if it happened to me, or should have happened to me, or definitely will happen to me, or all of the above. This is in my mind in the background 24/7. I watched her die for 11 years. It got progressively more painful and horrific as time went on. I can't escape the thoughts that I failed her, that the same experience is coming for me, that I don't deserve to live or enjoy life at all.
Only the mountains quiet these voices, they are still there, just, quieter.
I think it might be time to face this in therapy but I'm afraid of losing my last thread of my ability to function in the process.
I am afraid of my appointment this Thursday. I have to go see the lady who mutilated me, and show her my disfigurement, and watch her apologize (she already has apologized profusely and does not blame me for being upset). It's not *that* bad. But it is a strange dent that doesn't feel like mine. I miss the natural curve of that breast, it's just so insulting. That isn't what I look like, my brain says, every time I look at it or touch it. I still get twinges of sharp pain there, as if my body is saying, "this isn't me, this isn't right."
Tyler climbed up to Hogsback on Sunday, so he is not joining me today. Hogsback is about, umm, maybe 1000' from the summit of Mt Hood? Maybe 2000' below? I don't remember. I climbed it, you'd think I remember. But, it's a 5000'ish climb from Timberline, if taking the most common route, so Palmer is 6000-7000, I think Hogsback is 8000', Devil's Kitchen is 9000', Pearly Gates 10000? But I might have Devil's Kitchen and Hogsback reversed. Probably. Summit is 11000-something feet. A climber died on mount hood, he announced on his return, "Not me though!" Sigh. This is why I don't climb big mountains. That and mountaineering boots are really hard on my feet.
Ack gunna be hiking in the dark whoops. Off I go.
Tomorrow is my day for sitting at screens and thinking and writing.
But just wanted to decompress for a sec.
Josh leaves for Grand Canyon tomorrow, a birthday trip I decided not to join him on (hence taking him to Thai last night, and brunch and REI shopping when he gets back). He's going with a friend, it'll be good. Better for me to stay home this time. I'll go to Vegas with him in March to hike Red Rock Canyon and see Alice Cooper.
Baked him a birthday pumpkin sweet potato pie this morning, along with cooking us both lunch and dinner, played with the cat, cleaned the kitchen. I crashed early last night and had restless sleep again. I keep having nightmares. One had Elon Musk in it. I guess because Tyler and Josh and I were having conversations about why anyone would ever want to accumulate more money than they can even use.
Work was hard yesterday but rewarding. I am not sure I should be giving discounts again, but I couldn't help myself yesterday. Honestly I think it is partly because of the ICE stuff. I heard waaaaayyyy too much on the news yesterday about that, waaaaay too many graphic gory details. I just want to help people around me, somehow. I want things to be different. It is so scary that this is happening literally on the heels of the deaths of the last few remaining living survivors of the holocaust. I heard about a Venezuelan family with a child being taken and how the children are being held and how someone I knew had talked about their friend who was hosting a Venezuelan family with a young child and it's just too much. We are going to be the depressed ashamed Germans paying reparations to the rest of the world, you know.
So I give discounts at work. Because suddenly this makes my work less valuable?
My poor broken trauma-brain.
This is why I hide from the news. I can barely survive as it is. I am more vulnerable than I appear. I feel like I am edging with death all. the. time.
Part of this is due to being such a close witness to my mom's death, and being so similar to her, and feeling as if it happened to me, or should have happened to me, or definitely will happen to me, or all of the above. This is in my mind in the background 24/7. I watched her die for 11 years. It got progressively more painful and horrific as time went on. I can't escape the thoughts that I failed her, that the same experience is coming for me, that I don't deserve to live or enjoy life at all.
Only the mountains quiet these voices, they are still there, just, quieter.
I think it might be time to face this in therapy but I'm afraid of losing my last thread of my ability to function in the process.
I am afraid of my appointment this Thursday. I have to go see the lady who mutilated me, and show her my disfigurement, and watch her apologize (she already has apologized profusely and does not blame me for being upset). It's not *that* bad. But it is a strange dent that doesn't feel like mine. I miss the natural curve of that breast, it's just so insulting. That isn't what I look like, my brain says, every time I look at it or touch it. I still get twinges of sharp pain there, as if my body is saying, "this isn't me, this isn't right."
Tyler climbed up to Hogsback on Sunday, so he is not joining me today. Hogsback is about, umm, maybe 1000' from the summit of Mt Hood? Maybe 2000' below? I don't remember. I climbed it, you'd think I remember. But, it's a 5000'ish climb from Timberline, if taking the most common route, so Palmer is 6000-7000, I think Hogsback is 8000', Devil's Kitchen is 9000', Pearly Gates 10000? But I might have Devil's Kitchen and Hogsback reversed. Probably. Summit is 11000-something feet. A climber died on mount hood, he announced on his return, "Not me though!" Sigh. This is why I don't climb big mountains. That and mountaineering boots are really hard on my feet.
Ack gunna be hiking in the dark whoops. Off I go.
