It Was a Good Week

During this process of splitting and finding my own way, I've realized that I'm either all in or all out. This last couple days have been rough days for me, and before I spill the good stuff starting tomorrow, I'd like to blow out some success.

Last week, I finally got my car back. As I've discussed before, that was a huge missing piece for me. In the trunk of that car were the last five boxes of books. I picked up a book case last week and this past weekend, by books were distributed between that case and my desk and the boxes were broken down and I feel ...more complete.

Here's my joy:



Tomorrow starts the hard tellings...

Apathy

In the last few days, I've found myself a new friend: Apathy.

MS and Mini are out of town right now and with nothing or no one really checking on me, I'm finding myself a little apathetic.

It's not depression. I've already been through that bit and overwhelmed by it to the need for saving and being pulled out of my rut. I'm feeding myself and my cat and keeping the apartment (while still in progress) in order and clean.

But twice in as many weeks, I've opted to sleep for over twelve hours. When I got up, I wasn't sad or angry, just despondent. Who cares? What do I really have to do? I made it up to 15 hours this past weekend.

But I suppose because I recognize it, I'll be okay.

My focus for the next few days is to put together a schedule that includes some sort of activity, a little working out as it were, whether in the apartment gym or just rolling around on my bike.

I think if I can get into that window, I can start truly feeling better about myself, and, hence, truly learning how to love myself.

Because that's still on the "to do" list.

Car Trouble: Finding Normal Roadblock

On June 23rd, my Honda (the one I bought two months ago) shitted out on me. Turns out it was the timing chain going, stretching as it were. $1100 or so.

On June 24th, I had it towed to my usual shop. They got right on it and said - oops - looks like the timing chain and a little deeper into the engine than they go, let's tow it to this second place. On the 25th, it was towed to New Place. This was 4 days before I moved residences; I rolled a rental during the shift.

Friday was July 20th. They have had my car for 20+ business days. I love that they gave me a loaner for free, even if it is a dirty Odyssey, but DAMN! Every conversation has been initiated by me and just to see if it would happen, I didn't call and officially have not heard from anyone all week. Good people, good rep, good work, but slow as shit with crap for communication skills. I can't in good conscience recommend them to anyone else.

And there's the hard part as it relates to the relationship and moving.

Shitty business practices aside, I just want my car back. I want to live in my new place with my own car, not walking out every day to a Honda van. That's not mine. That's not me.

Can't wait to get it back. It's not me, but it is a representation of my life. Hoping this will be a good week.

Shopping: The Bane and Joy

In my last post, I made note of how frightening it is for me moving out on my own, specifically because of turning around every few minutes to find something missing. I'm a typical man in some ways and sometimes it's "Eh, what date was that birthday? -- oh, yeah," or it's losing the immediacy of that quick wit or share an in-joke with MiniShambles. And sometimes it's grabbing that can of black beans from the cabinet and almost losing your shit because it suddenly dawns on you that YOU NO LONGER OWN A CAN OPENER. Fuck.

So you go shopping to get that can opener. And it's miserable. I've been 4 times "catch-up" shopping since I moved in: 2 Targets, one Kroger (many more of those to come - do you know how many spices I had?), and one Home Depot. And in every one of those instances, I was flooded with the absence, and each time I got near the end of my list and that last item was simply not where should be - or I was just getting frantic - and the anxiety meter welled up along with my eyes and I just wanted to push my cart into the nearest end-cap, scream at the top of my lungs, drop to my knees, and sob quietly for a while. Reality as it is, I held it together, checked out, and held the sobbing for home.

Shopping when you're trying to reconstruct a life can be overwhelming because you're surrounded by absence, every piece is a hole in your life, a reminder of how intertwined you once were with another person, of the emptiness that exists now. But it's not without redemption. Every item you pick up, little things that will allow you to function, is a regeneration, a work towards completion. Granted, you may not realize that until after an in-store near-meltdown and some back-home sobbing, but it's better. And with those trips, as hard as they were, I got a little bit better. I know it's just stuff and "good" is a ways off, but for right now, I can deal with better.

I have to.


Oh, and I did get that can opener, and because it was never allowed in the house due to a solid, lingering aversion tied to MS's morning sickness years ago, it was the best can of Spaghetti-O's I've ever had.

Weekend of the 4th: Gathering Myself

I didn't do much of anything the weekend of the 4th, mostly because MS stuck me with the dog, but also because I was desperate for alone time. And I got it - with a dog who had reverted to paranoid puppyhood: she's be howling and barking even during a brief trip down to the dumpster. At the house, she's become very chill.

But the time I did get I enjoyed; it was just quiet "me" time, watching some TV, goofing off on the internet, catching up on some books.

I also had off today, just me and the cat, doing some final unpacking (though still books to figure out), so tomorrow's challenge: getting back to work.

I keep using the phrase "finding the new normal," but I don't think there is one, and that's frightening. Everywhere I look, there's something missing, and that's terrifying -- but more on that tomorrow.

I made it through the holiday and the worst I got was numb apathy / disconnection - not a hint of depression. And that's a step in the right direction.

Right?

Moving in and Collapsing

As opposed to my last post, I am no longer numb. Today I moved into my new apartment and I am fragile, a welling bubble of emotion that is contained by a thin, cracking glass dome.

And I know by typing this, I will shatter. It will be brief and I will pull it together, but I need to get this out of me right now.

So today we moved me. MS was there, along with my folks and my daughter, her boyfriend and bestie. And it went on without a hitch. I had to scramble for a van, but we were done moving in about three hours.

After that, my folks stuck around and we went to Target and they helped me along ridiculously kindly, tossing in a huge heap of what I needed as a new startup like I was an 18-year-old moving out for the first time.

What struck me was that the move - even with the scramble to find a truck and the picking up of my daughter's boyfriend and the physical exhaustion of up an down and stairs - was actually way easier than my parents taking me shopping (they wanted to put in on my new couch but I'd already bought it, so they offered a necessities trip to Target instead).

At first I figured my thoughts and feelings of borderline breaking down in the middle of Target were just me be being worn: all the physical and emotional exhaustion after moving out of my own house. But I think it was something more.

If you do moving right, it's procedural, systematic. And in my case, it's just moving my stuff from one place to another locally: load up, drive, load out. There is comfort in comfortable things, even if it's just something in a box you can't even identify without opening it, and with something like a bed, it's a swaddling wonder of ease in familiar.

But shopping, shopping after a split sucks; you're just shopping, sure, but you're buying all these items that you need to restart your life - a spatula, pots, and condiments and Swiffers, all these items that remind you with every pickup that it's gone. Forever. You are picking up pieces that have been lost, rebuilding something built and now missing, a structure with half its bricks missing.

And somehow I just wrote that and didn't lose it, though I've been on the cusp all day. Perhaps I passed it buy like on a carousel and I'll be back. Perhaps I'm just too tired to deconstruct tonight. Or, perhaps, the simple act of writing this depressurized the dome.

I still expect it and will for months and know it will happen more than once, but I think for tonight I'm okay to grab a beer and put on Netflix and breathe.

Always: breathe.

The Keys to the Future

I got the keys this past Friday and I've been taking car loads over each evening in preparation for Saturday's move. Rental insurance, electric switched, internet scheduled.

90% of what I've moved is clothing or books. I guess I don't own that much "stuff." Or I actually do and will be collecting it over the next few weeks bit by bit. For right now I've reduced it to necessities and since my departure is not a door-slam, that's okay.

I don't know, I suppose I'm kind of numb at this point. Not in a dumb or dangerous way; I'm just mentally pushed through Saturday and just want to catch up and have that moment when I'm pretty much moved and by myself and everyone who helped gets a thanks and a goodbye and I close the door and can have a seat and a beer and pop on the TV and just BE in that space, to feel it when I'm over the hump.

Until then, I feel like I'm wandering, floating, going through the motions.

Oh, yeah, and Sunday evening the car I bought two months ago quit on me, so I'm rollin' an Enterprise Special (KIA) while I go through all this. Ugh.

If internet hookup goes well tomorrow, I'll be making my first post from the apartment at some point. Not that I'll have anything magical to convey, just keeping up on the progress.