Missing Time

Hey, friends.

Sorry I've been among the disappeared lately [have you even noticed?]. 

I've been ugh. Sad. Despairing. Despondent.

I've struggled with anxiety and depression for years, and recently had a very hard patch.

I've gotten better about discussing anxiety and my weird need-for-clean OCD tendencies. I can even talk about - in a facile way - my PPD.  But depression? Is hard to discuss, because there is still some part of me that feels like if I name it, if I talk about it, I invite it in. If I act like depression was limited to PPD, then everything now is fine. Just fine.  No mention, no invitation, no entry.

Well, it came in and kicked my ass anyway.

I had a really bad spell where it took all of my energy to do the bare minimum of work and home, where showering was exhausting, where brushing and flossing my teeth seemed insurmountable.  And where I cried at work and at home and in the car.  And where I thought about how miserable every single part of my life was.  All of it.  Worthless.

If you've struggled, you know what it's like - the exhaustion and misery.  If you haven't, please do me a favor.  That person who you think is snotty and won't engage? May just be trying to hold it together and not collapse into a heap of tears or nothingness.

Let's be nicer to each other.  And be nicer to ourselves.

Fractions suck.

Today I found out that a guy I think is cute is literally, truly, half my age. 

I am old enough to be his mother.  And not his babies-having-babies mother.  His yeah-it's-totally-normal-to-have-a-child-at-that-age mother.

I'm not sure how I feel about this.

I mean, skeeved, obvs, but also . . . nope, just skeeved.

I mentioned this dilemma to the husband, who advised me to get over it and "Just Cougar it up," and I'm trying, but . . . man.  Half. My. Age.

I'd hate to think that my errand running has been reduced to fantasies of surprise double coupons rather than the "Carry your bags to your car, ma'am?" bowchickabowwow vignettes that used to rule my thoughts, but I can't seem to get past this. 

Advice? Thoughts? Secret crushes that have rocked your world?

Celebration and romance.

It was the husband and my anniversary a couple of weeks ago.  We didn't end up doing much - he's been working every day, I've been working a lot, and we were both kind of tired.  We had a nice dinner and we watched our new Happy Endings DVDs [are you watching this show? IT IS HILARIOUS.].  It was actually quite nice.

Do you do stuff for anniversaries?  We've never been that couple.  There have been years where we've forgotten completely, only to be reminded a few days [or weeks] after the fact by someone else. 

This year, while I was looking for a card for someone's birthday, the husband happened upon a card that had him doubled over in laughter in the Hallmark store.  I got it for him for our anniversary, because it pretty much sums up our world view:

Yup. That's pretty much it.

When you find that person who makes you laugh, and who laughs with you, it keeps you together. Even during those times when you know, just know, that you are pretty much going to hate them for the rest of your life. Surprisingly, those times pass, and the humor is still there.

What's Left to Say?

It's been a shitty week, obviously.  I've unplugged, mostly, because there's nothing I could say that would make any difference.

I'm not sure what to even say now, except that, like many of you, I've spent the past several days alternately scouring newsfeeds and needing to settle down with a giant dark chocolate bar and Happy Endings DVDs, and I feel like we can all use a little kindness.

People go through horrific situations - unfathomably horrific - and they remain unbowed. I'm floored by their strength, their will.  And I am saddened by their losses. 

As I said, I don't have anything snarky to say - or funny, even.  I just want everyone to be nice to each other for a few minutes. And to be nice to yourselves for a few minutes more.

XO

Suniverse

Your Body and Food: A Primer

You know how people always say that there's a connection between your body and food? They are right, because lately I've noticed that my body is in sync with certain foodstuffs.  For example:

******  My knees sound like Rice Krispies when I stand up.  SNAP! CRACKLE! POP! CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH is the noise they make.  I don't like to think too much about it, because I'm sure something terrible and irreversible has occurred there.

******  My skin is like pudding.  Not the soft, creamy pudding texture that soothes us.  No, it's like the rubbery skin that congeals on the pudding's surface.  Also, thanks to some adult acne, it's like tapioca, the evil stepchild of pudding.*

******  My upper arms are like veal. I will sell their useless, tender flesh for $24.99/lb.

******  My hair is like wheat.  Well, not really the color, but the texture. And not a silken wheat type hair - more like the stiff and crunch part of the wheat.  The chaff, maybe? Or maybe my hair is like wheat for people who have celiac disease. I think that might be right.

******  My fingers are like sausages. Mmmm . . . delicious, salty sausages. Wait. I see a direct connection here.

As an accidental foodie, I am very interested in the relationship between my body and food.  You are definitely what you eat - even if the last time you ate that thing was 1999 [oh, veal, how I miss you].  I wonder when I'll start turning green from all the lettuce.  I'd be o.k. with my hair turning purple from all the cabbage I eat.  There's a correlation I'd be happy with.

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* Full disclosure - I actually like tapioca pudding. But not that tapioca drink thing that they sell at the mall.  That shit is toxic.