Is it really the Holidays?

Cuzz it doesn’t feel like it. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get a tree this year. Maybe it’s because I’m burnt out. Maybe it’s both.

My Christmas tree is one of, maybe, three things I look forward to all year. It’s a like sign I made it another year. Ha, maybe that’s why I didn’t end up getting one this year, because I’ve been crashing and burning my way thru this year. So, it’s fitting that I didn’t get the thing I look forward to most.

Burn out is real.

I was going to do Christmas cards.

I was going to make chocolate covered oreos and hot coco bombs for my team and family.

I was going to make Christmas cookies for the first time since the pandemic.

I pulled everything out to do it. Then looked around and realized I don’t feel very merry and neither does my house. I climbed back in bed and waited for the day to be over so I could go to work. Night shift, wooooo.

I keep trying to be festive but between roadblocks and burnout, I think I’m done. I’ll try again next year. Lol.

Catriona

I lost grip of my PTSD.

I had that bitch head locked for about 3 years. I pinned her to a wall and was in control for a while.

You know what happens when you shove something intelligent in a box? It evolves to release it self. Don’t ever underestimate how intelligent PTSD is.

I lost grip of her several months back. Ok, over 6 months back.

I knew it was happening; My plants were dying. My house wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t clean. I was working harder and sleeping less. I was taking on more and juggling it all to fill the spaces PTSD wanted to occupy. I was forcing interaction. But my PLANTS. lol. I usually live in a forest. They are all just about dead.

Now I’m strategically avoiding all unnecessary interaction without a thought. I realized today just how bad it was.

PTSD, or Pansy, for those who have been with me for a while has evolved. While she is not as aggressively loud and obnoxious in random intervals as she used to be, she is constant now, albeit a dull roar. I’m actually not even sure which is worse.

I worked 16 day straight just to shut her the fuck up. And now because I’m a good lead, I gave away a day of my overtime (today) for one of my dispatchers who needed it. So, first day off in 16 days and I’m sitting here alone in my house staring at my responsibilities. They are staring back.

I just want to build a cabin in the middle of the woods and lose my mind in peace. However, I can’t keep track of my family that way so, here we have the problem. lol. I’m fully aware that the Universe built my kid to be the anchor that keeps me in check. Backfired though. Because, the thing that would be released should my kid be removed from this world would be unimaginable.

I’m supposed to be flying into town in the beginning of September to help my brother with our Mom and I don’t even know how to fake being put together at the moment. I am just hoping they will both be too occupied with the fact that Mom is actually dying from Cancer now to notice my undoing. I don’t even have my ticket yet, that’s how much of a grip I have. Well, to be fair it was so fucking expensive that I almost fell out of my chair when I went to book it. I was hoping the closer I get it would go down in price. I was also hoping the sky would fall and I wouldn’t be able to go – how fuck up is that? Yeah. I know.

The check engine light was late and I knew it.

Catriona

XOXOX

18

This kid is 18. Can you believe that?

I remember when they handed me my newly birthed baby. Everyone left and I was alone. I put the baby on my chest – I remember thinking: “Fuck. What am I going to do now?” Hahaha. In that moment, I really had absolutely no idea. It wasn’t that I didn’t want this baby. If there was every a baby that was wanted or needed, it was this one, let me tell you. But, I was in over my head and I knew it. My bio parental units were broken long before they had me, so trust when I say I didn’t have a lot to work with reference wise. Well, maybe that’s incorrect. I knew what I wouldn’t be doing, lol. But passed that, I was a teenager with an infant and I was well aware.

I went to sleep that night and woke up in a nightmare in which my teenage ass was responsible for an infant that had a frequent habit of trying to die (internal bleeding & allergic to everything, EVERYTHING).

Then suddenly I had a toddler.

Then I had a 6 year old skipping grades because when we transitioned from homeschooling to Montessori school he was testing at 8th grade and 12th grade in some subjects.

Then I blinked and this kid was telling me he didn’t think he wanted to be a Neurologist any more and why. So we reworked what college he was aiming for in the coming years.

Then I looked away for a min, I swear to you it was just min, and he graduated High school.

Then I leaned down to pick up his hat, and he turned 18.

We were in Target one day and he said “MOM LOOK” and smiled real big while telling me the “D” in the front of the cart looked like a mouth smiling. This is by far one of my favorite photos. He couldn’t have been more then 4 or 5 here.

This was yesterday. Look at this kid. I’m speechless. My whole heart turned 18 yesterday. Watch out world.

We spent the day eating junk food & Hershey’s Icecream cake while watching Moon Knight (what a weird show, not bad…but).

18. I don’t even know how we got here. LOL

Catriona

XOXOXOX

P.s. C. where you at? Check your E-mails.<3

Little blue bag of feelings

Grief is a weird thing. It looks different on everyone.

Recently, I lost a friend from work. She was an amazing human. Always had an answer and a smile. She was always helpful. Even when the pandemic made it hard to be.

I took it pretty hard. My better half must have known. Came home with a pretty blue bag filled with “The stages of grief”. It was literally a bag of pastries. Each one names after a stage. I laughed so hard.

I ate “Anger” for dinner that night, funny enough.

“Depression” was amazing. But, “Bargaining” , “Bargaining” couldn’t have been any better.

I guess what I am trying to say is get yourself a partner that will bring you a little blue bag of feelings when you’re sad. Hahahah.

Catriona

XOXOXOX

Sike Bitches, Pansy never left

Anyone order a Breakthrough PTSD episode? Anyone? No? Must have been me.

It’s my own fault. I got cocky. I poked the bear too many times in too short of a time period. Coming back here. Reading old entries. Allowing my brain the open that file again. Looking at things I usually avoid.

Cleaning my room out, trying to get rid of things. Somehow my oldest computer is out and my kid is calling my name. I look up and “I found something”. The look on my kid’s face. Sigh.

It was in the disc drive of the computer I’ve avoided for years.

I’m a crying mess. I haven’t been like this in over two years. Turns out I’m not better, I’m just busy. Hahahah. Fuck. FUCK.

Now I’m sleeping (not sleeping at all) next to my laundry because cleaning came to a screeching hault.

Can we not? Can we not do this? Fuckkkkkkkk. It’s 3:56am and I have to be up at 9 for the kid’s ortho and then work. The sky was weird today; I knew I shouldn’t have pushed my luck.

• 

Catriona

Xoxoxo

Bathroom Explosion

I wrote this in September 2017 right after we were rocked by a Hurricane. Something I’m sure I will share, eventually.
Don’t run away! It’s not that kind. Wrong end, really.
I took a walk the other night to get catfood after the storm. Wal-Mart is a scary place after a certain time. It’s also more quiet. Something I rather enjoy if I’ve got to brave Wal-Mart.
I grabbed the catfood and sorta just browsed. I came to the Bathroom linens and accessories. In my head I said “Oh, ok well while I’m here maybe I will look at what colors I’d like the new bathroom to be.” and then, it was all down hill from there.
“Oh, look at that color. That’s pretty. I really like that. Oh, but it reminds me of the time we (my wife and I) painted the master bathroom that color. Nope.”

I moved on.
“Oh, this is a nice red. I could get.. No, that reminds me of the master bathroom again.”

I moved on.
“OH black and white. That would be easy! I have all the… Annnnd that reminds me of when we had zebra print in the bathroom… And that one rouge zebra towel I could never get rid of.“

I moved on.
“Fuck Purple.”

I moved on.
“Grey is pretty. Two shades of grey and maybe.. Nope. Fuck. That reminds me of my master bathroom. It was Dark grey, as were the towles at one point. Fuck.”

I moved on.
“Coral! That doesn’t remind me of anything!… Except. How ugly coral is. Damnit.”

I moved on.
“This is starting to get ridic….Orange! Orange. It’s not the most calming of colors… But I can deal with that. Throw some abstract Art up and… Crap. And it reminds me of the Cocopelli theme we once had in the master bathroom.”

I moved on.
“That’s ugly. Nope. Nope. Fuck pink. Nope. That’s ugly too. NOPE NOT THAT ONE EITHER. WHY DID WE CHANGE OUR BATHROOM THEME SO OFTEN?! WHO DOES THAT?! I’M NEVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO DECORATE MY BATHROOM EVER AGIAIN!” annnnd I burst into tears. At Wal-Mart. At 12am. At 12am I became a Person of Wal-Mart. Fuuuuuuckkkkkk.
In my defense, I hadn’t slept in days due to the storm. I’d been up well over 48 hours and eaten very little (and, really now that I think of it… We did change the color and theme of the bathroom frequently.. Lmao)
So I’m leaning against the shelf, catfood in hand, in tears…. And suddenly the realization that I’m CRYING IN WAL-MART ABOUT MY BATHROOM DECOR hits me. I start to laugh out loud, hysterically. Like, crazy laugh. I know you know what I mean. Then I realize anyone watching just watched me go from crying to laughing like an idiot. I laugh even harder because I’m now a Person of Wal-Mart. Bahahahahahah.
I finally got my shit together and left the aisel… Not before looking over to see 3 young guys staring….. Yep, I’m the seemingly crazy Cat Lady at Wal-Mart. Yep, that’s now me. Great.
I continued to laugh like a hyena to the cash register. Fuck it.

I didn’t finish this… But, do I really need to?

Catriona

Oxoxoxo

Catriona in the cow field

My better half had this weird thing with winning me cows from various fairs, machines, and weird game stands. I don’t even know how it started. Lol. We had two particular stuffed cows that were my favorite Henfers. (Better Half named all cows “Hefner”, it was hilarious). One was obnoxiously large and round. The other was so tiny, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness. Both Hefners lived on our bed for years. 

Unfortunately, I only have one Hefner left. The small one. It’s now locked in a box I had made for my son….I will go into that another time… 

Every cow I received had this goofy friggen look on its face. The kind you could be Earth-Shatteringly-Angry, and still couldn’t keep a straight face if you saw one of these things. So, as you can imagine I can’t see a cow, even a real cow, without laughing like an idiot. Every. Damn. Time. It’s made worse if the cow desides to throw a “Moo” at me. I can’t see a cow, or hear a cow, without smiling like an idiot. 

Annnnnddddd then there’s the part where I live close to cows pastures.  I can’t really go anywhere without seeing a cow. It’s a bit obnoxious, really. Even my son has started to notice. We’ve been taking long walks lately, and just sort of exploring. Recently he looked up and said “MOM! Hefner got huge!”.  I laughed, the cows started Mooing, we laughed more… I had to eventually pull us away. Which really proved hard, as their were cow fields on both sides of us for a good twenty minutes. Anyone passing us by would have thought we were nuts. 

It’s been over a year since she died. Yeah guys; I said she. 

The thing about me coming back to writing is that while I was away… We will say “someone”…  decided that stalking me on the internet, cloning my media sites, posting fake nudes… Yeah, you read that right…. Throwing all of my private information (including the town I live in, my son’s name and nick names, my business information, including this blog) out in the open while at the same time harassing anyone and everyone they could. The idea was to ruin my reputation. The idea was  to pop the safe little bubble I had created to protect my son and myself from the internet… Because parenting, and privacy… However it didn’t work. Those who knew me laughed and kept on truckin’. Those who didn’t know me, sort of shook their heads in disgust,  but came back to me with questions.. Concerns.. Because what was posted and said was so bizarre. In the end none of it matters other than I no longer have the privacy I once had, and really at this point: fuck it. LMAO

 You see, if you have been following me regularly I generally use gender neutral pronouns for my better half. Was I ashamed, you ask? Hell no! I didn’t want readers to get stuck on WORDS. I didn’t want it to be even more obvious of who I was. Lol. I skimmed over things that would easily identify me. But, “someone” has made it so that it is easily tracible to who I am. So, from now on, it’s going to be all out in the open… Watch out internet, BECAUSE NOW I REALLY HAVE NO FILTER! LMAO. 

So, join me on this new journey of letting it all hang out… And finally knitting some penis socks. 

Catriona 

XOXOXOXOX

Floating around in nothingness.

I’m having such a hard time with life. My marriage was a disaster in the end. It truly was. But, the first few years before she became ill were fantastic. I’m not even sure what I am doing any more.

 

I’m wounded.

Probably more than I’ve ever been in my life. As of February 8th, two years ago, I clutched the phone with my head and shoulder as I pulled the lifeless body of my wife from our bed to the floor for resuscitation.. A day I see every day, several times a day, when both awake and asleep, relentlessly. Treatment for the subsequent PTSD and anxiety disorders are a joke. Even my doctors have called it, collectively. She was the only person I ever truly loved aside from my son. My wife was without oxygen for a damaging amount of time, something they told me while I stood in the ICU for a week could take her away from us mentally, physically, or both.

When she eventually woke, she was no longer my wife. The person I brought back from death wasn’t MY wife at all. And even tho she lived, I swear I died in that room that day. Our situation both before and after that day broke me. I cried everyday where she couldn’t see because I couldn’t help her, because no one could help us, Because she was so messed up, because I was so messed up. I broke under the pressure. She beat on me emotionally and physically because of her issues, yet I would do it again, truly I would. I know she knew what she was doing half the time. And the other half I think her soul was being called somewhere else and she had no idea what she was doing. She told me the day I moved out that we would be married again some day, that we needed to heal apart, that she loved me, that it was killing her to see me go. Months later I could see both deep love and deep hate in her eyes. We got worse apart, not better. I truly believed one day I’d get MY wife back, some day, maybe years but, maybe one day. I would have walked thru hell (and in some ways I did) to heal her, to have kept her, MY HER. After years of failing to help her I was resentful because I was drowning/hurting/helpless and couldn’t see the light. I made mistakes at the end of our relationship. Not the ones I was accused of, but mistakes nonetheless. I will carry them with me everyday. A few weeks ago, short of the two year mark, she died.

She was no longer my wife, or mine in any way.

My son’s other parent is gone, and when I got home I had to tell him while holding my shredded heart in my hands, while trying to hold his together. Through all the hurt, though all the pain, if given the choice I’d walk through hell,  blind if need be,  to find her and drag her out. I’d do it every day if I could have back the woman I fell in love with so many years ago.

Don’t waste time, it’s running out. 

Due to my wife’s illness, and perception of the situation, coupled with a former “Friend” of mine crossing lines and contacting my wife out of anger for me, saying who knows what – I wasn’t even made aware when she died. My son did not get to say good bye, they would not allow him at the service, or speak to us at all. My Wife and I weren’t on bad terms. But, someone trying to hurt me ended up hurting my son more. My son lost his mom, and his Grandmother in the same week, and was left on the sidelines all because of vengeance.

You never know who people are. Even if you have known them for years. I cannot even believe the things that have transpired.

Hold your loved ones. Tell your friends how much they mean to you. Identify and walk away from the ones that truly aren’t your friends. Tell the people in your life you love them once a day.

life with my wife toward the end was a horror show. I used this site as an outlet for my anger always thinking that in the end I would be able to write about the good things that would happen in the future. It was always my hope that she would get it together, and be around for my son. I know it was a long shot. I know it was stupid. but, I always had a spark of hope.

That hope died when she did.

My son is shattered.

But, everyday we talk about one good memory we shared with her. Some times the only way out, is though.

OXOXOXO

Catriona

 

I have no back burner

You know how you have subjects and thoughts that you just….throw on the back burner and touch on them ever so often? Well, I don’t have one. I have a thought hurricane. It’s a constant tornado of thoughts. (Not to be confused with a ‘Pornado’, that would be fun.) My brain just never stops.

In September I moved.

In October my Aunt started to get sick.

In November I  spent 3 weeks sitting beside my Gram’s best friend (Aunt) as she died of lung cancer. She was diagnosed, and within 3 weeks she was gone. Gram and I drove the 35 mins everyday to and from the Hospital to be with her.

I did a lot of sitting on the ledge praying, looking down from the seventh floor.

This was taken the day before she died. I was sitting next to her bed, I had been holding her up. She was so weak toward the end.

In January my heart was shredded by the loss of yet another family member from lung cancer, and the loss of my actual heart. Telling my son was just as painful as the three actual losses. I cannot express my life at the moment.

I have not forgotten about cards, you guys. As you can see…uh, things are not settled. ha.

I just noticed the dirty sock on my desk. wtf?

Catriona

Spots of Happiness

About three weeks ago I found myself standing in my Grandmother’s Bedroom while she told me not to waste my time packing in there, she didn’t want it. We went back and forth, she refused to take any of it. I finally agreed she was right, told her we wouldn’t take it. She walked from the room very upset. The moment she did I emptied every piece of jewelry, which is really the only hobby she has, into several bags. I then handed those bags to one of my closest friends and asked her to take them to her truck, discreetly. I then quickly found all of the personal things I knew she would miss; her mother’s address book, gifts from her father from her childhood, her mother’s personal items, things my late Grandfather had given her, her scarves she loved so much, notes from her children when they were young, letters she treasured, and packed them up without her noticing. We left the house that day with a fraction of what my Grandmother owned.

And then I waited.

Today, Grandma came to me very sadly and said, “I left all my memories in that house.” She named several things she had refused to take – things I had my friend help me sneak out of the house.

“Nope, I am the keeper of your memories.” and I walked from the room. I heard her laugh.

I returned with all items I had taken behind her back:

“I don’t listen very well.” (I don’t, never have) and I laid all of her stuff on her bed. I watched as she went through it all in shock.

“I have a little bit of everything back, Thank you.” She said after putting it all away in her room.

I swear I smiled for hours.

She’s not going to remember what I did for her, but she will have her things that remind her of happy times in her life.

When things get hard, look for the spots of happiness. 

OXOXOX

Catriona