an open letter to 2016

This year can fuck right the hell off now. 

Last night, the unthinkable happened. Justin's brother committed suicide. We are all grieving. The house is full of ghosts right now, Halloween decorations excluded. Screaming, angry, hurt ghosts. There's no escaping them. They're in the way Justin's dad, who usually never says anything to me, apologized last night when I was brushing my teeth and he needed to use the bathroom. They're in the broken screams coming unearthed from Justin's mom's usually quiet demeanor. They're in Justin's sister's eyes, swimming around in her normally bright irises. They're in the screams that came from deep in Justin's chest last night, echoing his pain and all of his deep unconditional love for his brother. 

I'm trying my hardest not to feel anything. Numbness is my only defense against feeling every bad emotion I've ever felt all over again in my grief. Ironically, I finally got things taken care of with my dad's estate yesterday. I ~adulted~ and got myself a bank account, paid off a debt, and argued with the agent at US Cellular because there was a problem with my bill. By the time I got home yesterday, I was an anxious mess and then Tammy came in the living room and said, "I haven't seen Kerry. I can't get into his room."

And then I was in overdrive. It was like when I'm at work and we're really busy and all I can focus on is "What needs to be done next?"

And now I'm trying to process. And breathe. I'm listening to Coffee with Chrachel to make me laugh in this horrible time. If you pray, please keep Justin's family in your prayers. They need all the good energy and love right now. 

still a morning person

 

2 years and 4 days in between. And the best part about first shift is still getting to watch the sunrise every morning. I think today I must have said, "Look at the sky! It's so pretty!" AT LEAST six times. Golden hour is my very favorite time of day.

little lovely things

1. 4pm october light
2. drinking coffee in bed on chilly mornings
3. good makeup days
4. podcast catch-up 
5. the bright red tree in the neighbors backyard
6. wishing at 11:11
7. snuggles from the cats
8. days off of work
9. warm sweaters
10. making a second cup of coffee

dreams & legacy

I finished season 4 of Scandal last night. When I finally resisted the urge to say, "Oh, I'll just watch one more episode..." I started thinking about dreams as I watched Mellie launch her senate campaign and Jake left and Olivia went back to Fitz. 

When I was little, I wanted to be a firefighter like my uncle and my grandfather. Then I wanted to be an actress and a veterinarian and an astronaut. When I was seven, I declared that I was going to be an artist. I wanted to study at the Art Institute of Chicago. I had big dreams and I chased them until I couldn't anymore. I chased them all the way to Savannah and back, and when that didn't work—when the US's supposed education system failed me, I relied on social media and word of mouth to make my dreams come true. 

Now, I'm left wondering: when did I let my dreams die? I talked to Justin about this last night, and he said, "Your dreams haven't died. They've just changed as you have changed." I hugged him as he told me his dreams. Growing old together, having our own place, maybe in 4-5 years having babies. "You can still chase your old dreams if you want," he said. "But sometimes it's better to find a new dream."

Thinking about all of the different dreams I have had, and seeing how in some way or another, all of them have failed is the most disenchanting fact of life. It makes me feel like all there is to life is getting up every morning, going to work at a job that you hate, so that you can make money to pay your bills so that you live, and then one day it's all over: You die and your loved ones have to pick up the pieces. Maybe it's just my grief talking because I miss my dad, but there has to be more to life than this. 

Thinking about my dreams makes me wonder about my past selves, and how much I have made an impact in other people's lives. I think we all just want to be remembered after we're gone. We all want to leave some sort of legacy behind. The hard part is trying to pave the way for the achievements you want to be remembered for.

Time to find some new dreams. 

gratitude list

Thankful for... rainbows in the drive through lane at work, pockets of sunlight in fresh puddles, a recent bout of 70 degree weather (followed by rain all day today), snuggles from the Mew kitty, Scandal & That 70's Show when my brain is too chaotic to focus on anything, COFFEE (I drank two cups today!), thirty second dance parties, 80's music, being hyper after my coffee has kicked in and trying to get all of my coworkers to dance with me, sweater weather, having two blankets on the bed again, grocery store pumpkins, feeling more present in my day to day life, inspiration, living in a state with seasons, saying "I love you" before the end of every phone call, pretty skies on all the "last days" that I can remember, light and shadow and how it always calms my soul, friendship, vulnerability, weird dreams (and dreammoods for when they get really weird), the sun, the moon, everything I have grown away from and out of, all of my past selves and the person that I have yet to become. 

moments

 

 

 

 

 

 

i'm not ready

I'm not ready to say goodbye to the flowers quite yet. 

#thanksdepression

Lately I've been wishing it felt more natural to share the bad things. That we didn't delete all of our manic tweets and depressing tumblr text posts as soon as our "episode" was over. In this world of constant pressure from both a societal standpoint to do things a certain way, and the pressure to share nothing but good things on social media, it's crushing when life hands you a series of curveballs and you wonder, "What the fuck is wrong with me?" 

Spoiler alert: I am not taking my dad dying very well. The last few weeks have really taken their toll on me. Between rushing to get all of his stuff out of his apartment and then also dealing with paperwork while trying to maintain a normal life that I don't usually respond well to without my dad being gone? It's killing me. I'm lashing out at everyone. I'm either sleeping all the time or not at all. I cry over everything lately. I miss my dad, and I'm slowly learning that that feeling will never truly go away—it will simply lessen over time. 

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my grandma's death. I called my mom to see how she was doing and I accidentally woke her up. I called my auntie and left a voicemail but she never called me back. Instead of doing any of the things I was supposed to yesterday, after work Justin's mom and I went to Dollar Tree and then she took me out to Chef Chu's for Chinese. We bought Justin little trinkets for his birthday and talked about life. It felt good to feel a connection to someone again, in a time where everything feels like it's always falling apart. 

Today is Justin's 30th birthday. I slept for a total of 16 hours (#thanksdepression) and Justin threw up shortly after he woke up and then went back to bed for a few hours. Today feels like a culmination of everything bad that has happened lately and all I want to do is lay in bed and wish everything would just stop for a while. (And then, right on cue, my anxiety will wake up and make feel guilty for not doing anything all day.) 

Things are hard right now. Thanks for always letting me share, Blogland.