Hi Darling Ones,
The Shitty Anniversary I didn’t think I’d remember the specific day of is today*. Thanks, TimeHop! Thanks nonstop tweeting past-self who couldn’t help remarking on John Prine’s death on the shittiest, toughest day of my life. Thanks, life for being ceaselessly difficult sometimes.
Today it is officially one year since Cade left and I’ve had any contact with Sister #3 and The Tibbles. I hope it gets easier from here.
Much to my surprise, today has not been as emotionally wrought or difficult as I would have expected. For that, we can thank thunderstorm-induced insomnia and early-meeting-tomorrow-induced anxiety.**
While I feel a little emotionally wobbly, I’m trying to be gentle with myself. I took a nap when I was tired. I ate some green-bag Starburst Jellybeans because I wanted them. I’m listening to Grandpaboy/Paul Westerberg’s “Mono” because it’s soothing to me right now.
Most of all I keep reminding myself I did my very best for Sister #3 and The Tibbles, and I can’t do more than that. I did not fail when there was no way to win. I did not do anything wrong. This was on them, their mental health issues and their addictions.
I know the love I have for them still exists in my heart and is out there in the universe because it doesn’t disappear. I also remind myself it’s probably not the worst thing that Sister #3 exited my life, because she used me for years and is frequently mean for the sake of meanness with a history of being specifically cruel to me about everything from my body to my creative hobbies.
What I’ve learned from all of this is you cannot love someone into loving you back or even treating you well. Not even me, despite how hard I try. It’s not a fun lesson to learn. Zero stars. Do not recommend.
Thank you for helping me survive this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad year. This next 365 days will be better than the last. At some point I’ll get vaccinated, I think.*** There will be crushes and unrequited love. There will be orgasms and ice cream. I’m gonna listen to a lot of records and read some books. There will be Sadness Garden II:The Bleakness Boogaloo. Things will for sure happen and some of those will be good. The COVID Diaries will end, but I’ll keep on writing, maybe even in this letter format. Who knows? This blog will turn 21 in July and you can start picking out fine whiskey and gin to send our way. I might even get my hair cut by a professional at some point.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I do not take any of this for granted.
*That is one awkward sentence. I tried to make it less awful and did not succeed.
**You should know, for the first time since like 2009 I have had a meeting four out of five days. I’m not a fan. Meetings take a lot of brain energy — ramping up for them, meeting and having to turn thoughts into words that come out of your mouth and make sense to other human beings, coming down from the meeting. All that energy leaves very little leftover for actual work. Zero stars for meetings. Do not recommend.
However, I am a big fan of working. If that involves the occasional meeting, I’ll do it.
***This morning I had a call with one of my favorite clients (all my clients are my favorite because I only work with rad people and in the dozen years I’ve been freelancing I only fired two clients) who reassured me I’m not the only person who is struggle with finding a vaccine appointment and feeling like a total fucking failure in the process.