This was the second incredibly-long workday in a row for me, and my energy and enthusiasm are both in short supply.
I got up at 6 (after sleeping for less than six hours because Coco was full of energy at bedtime and needed to play, due to me working so long yesterday).
I was out of the house and on the road before 7, then had meetings at another campus until almost 1, and made it back home for another appointment. Then I went over to my home campus to work with a couple of social work adjunct faculty and help them get ready for the semester.
Got back home by 6:30, spent time with the dogs and ate supper, and then worked until 9:30pm. At that point, I texted a couple of friends that I was frustrated and grumpy and hungry and thirsty. This served as an accountability reminder for me, and motivated me enough to eat and drink the following splendid and nutritious snack:
One (1) piece of cold chicken lumpia.
One (1) cold hot dog.
One (1) hard-boiled egg.
A few (3) sips of Dr. Pepper.
A large (unmeasured) amount of water.
Consider this your recipe for wellness for the evening. It was the best thing I could pull together in the midst of my grumpiness. It would really, really help if I could remember to eat and drink more often. Hyperfocus on tasks has its drawbacks, and this is definitely one of them.
In addition to my work, today I’ve been thinking about some of the conversations I’ve had with some of my supports lately. I’m really grateful that I have so many people I can fire off a text to and get a very helpful response within a very reasonable amount of time. That’s new to me, as I never would have reached out to most of these folks before Kellie died unless there was something pretty massive going on.
My threshold for personal crises (or at least for a situation that would be helped by introducing a buddy to the mix) has definitely gone down, and so it’s very fortunate for me that my numbers of said buddies has definitely increased dramatically. If I had just increased my need for support and not also widened the circle of those willing to provide that support, it would have really taxed the time and energy of those few folks.
So, again, thank you. I’m so grateful that I have you all, in whatever capacity you’ve served me in thus far. Please know that I appreciate you.
It’s been nice to be able to have some conversations on the phone or in-person lately, as well. The majority of my requests for support come via text message, and so most of my non-work interaction with all of you is via text. That’s meaningful and real and helpful, but I’ve started trying to ask for a few phone calls or coffee meet-ups or whatever, as my friends have the time. It just sometimes hits different to hear someone’s voice, you know?
On Tuesday, I got to spend that wonderful time with Margot. Today, I got to have a conversation with Jill. And yesterday, Tanya called me rather than responding to a text from me. This afternoon, Nate did the same thing! Writing it all out like this, it actually looks like a lot of talking to people. Maybe I’m just feeling lonely tonight?
I guess my point in mentioning this is to say—just as I’ve started wishing I could have more voice conversations with more people, it’s started to happen this week without me even asking. But consider this me asking! Lots of people have said to call them anytime, but I feel weird and intrusive about doing that. Everyone says that people today hate to get phone calls, but not me.
Here’s an open invitation: anytime you feel like calling me, go for it. If I’m busy or feel like solitude, I just won’t answer. And if I’m not, it’s going to make me feel so much better. A text is also super valuable to me, and I’m not looking that gift horse in the mouth, I promise. But do you want to hang out sometime?
I talk with my parents every day, pretty much, and I would just also love to talk with you too.
I’ve started singing out loud to myself around the house, and that gives me a chance to hear someone’s voice! No, I do not consider that a mental health concern.
Today, my biggest reminder of Kellie came with supper. We get food from a local private chef’s business sometimes, and my order tonight was a lovely shortrib pierogi entree. Something about that item had been on the edge of my memory for a few days, and so I finally went back and looked. Kellie and I had both ordered the same entree back in March, the last time the chef offered it on her menu. I’ve since remembered an entire conversation Kellie and I had over that meal, about how much we both enjoyed it. I’d even written a text to the chef afterward letting her know it was excellent. That dinner was 42 days—six weeks—before Kellie died. We had no way to know that the next time I ate it, I would be alone. That led to a bunch of feelings.
I miss her, that’s all.
One more long day. I’ve got this. Sort of.
XOXO,
Matt