Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Big Sister, Little Sister

 

Today is my sister's birthday.  She is 61 years old.  I got her a really nice gift.  It's a crystal tea mug with enamel butterflies on it.  She likes tea, and she likes unusual mugs.  She'll say thank you and smile, but I will not get a hug.  

We are not close.  Not like people think we are.  Not like we used to be.  We were close for about a 10 year period, then my being crazy became too much.  She gets angry with me now if I get sick for any reason, even a cold.  

I would like to be close.  When I was little, I thought she was so cool, but she didn't want me around.  We are 5 years apart and the age gap was quite apparent.  It wasn't until I was 15 when we actually started to get along.  There is a big difference between being 10 and 5, and 15 and 20.  She actually used to let me hang out with her and her friends when she was 16.  It was she who taught me how to drive.  

I used to be able to talk to her about stuff.  Not anymore.  She built up a wall and put out the dogs.  My attempts to communicate with her and initiate intimacy are met with alarming disdain.  It sometimes borders on disgust.  Therefore, I don't think she likes me too much as a person.  Does she love me?  I guess so, only on a familial basis.  I think if we passed each other on the street, she would still be out of my league, like she was when I was 12. 

Back then, I was her chubby, nerdy sister.  I wasn't allowed in her room, or touch her stuff.  Sometimes though, I would play her albums on the stereo when no one was home.  Those were good times.  If nothing else, I can always thank her for introducing me to funk and R & B. 

I see some sister, and I think, wow I wish we could be like that.  Maybe we would get along better if I wasn't underfoot.  I'm in the way, always causing people worry.  Now that my parents are gone, I have to look to myself to take care of things.  I'm having trouble.  I guess it comes from being the baby of the family.  

My brother is in the middle of us.  I've kind of cut him out of my thinking these past few weeks after his last tirade to me about money.  I feel shame whenever I think of that day.  The thing about both of them is that they used to torment me as a child because I was fat.  Many were the afternoon where I was serenaded with the Tubby the Tuba song.  

No wonder I turned to food as my best friend.  It didn't make fun, and it made me feel good inside for at least a little while.  Nothing else made me feel good.  My father was not emotionally available at that time.  My mom was, well let's just say it, most of my childhood my mom was nuts.  

I don't blame them, it's not like kids come with instructions.  They did the best they could, I guess.  I was just a needy kid.  Now, here I am a needy adult.  A soon to be 56 year old adult at that, and I am still having trouble keeping my head above water.  

So my big sister is not warm and inviting.  So, most of what she says to me is a criticism of my thoughts, feelings and actions.  My mom would probably tell me not to take it personally.  But, how can you not take it personally?  I never understood that statement.  Right now, my heart is wrapped up in barbed wired thinking about the future.  I dare not talk to her about Kevin.  I dare not discuss feelings.  I guess I'll just let it all go and chalk it up to being a blood relative.  You can't choose them.  If I had any friends, it would be different, but right now, she's all I've got.  

My therapist says I should try to engage.  Ha Ha Ha, if she could only be here and see our interactions.  She would know how dysfunctional we are.  If I am being honest,  I must say that I don't like her much either.  Most of the time, especially when she is telling me about something I did wrong, I call her a bitch in my head.  Maybe it's because we are both Leos.  Each of us trying to be the leader.  I, however, often defer to her because it's just easier that way.  

Oh well, Happy Birthday!! See you next year.      B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Day After

 

Well, my imagination got the best of me around 2 am.  I didn't get any sleep last night.  I was up all night worrying about Kevin.  I had somehow convinced myself that he was with his wife and kids in Florida, and was just using me.  After all, who am I but this short fat girl with depression and anxiety who was worth nothing to anyone.  I mean, no one would miss me if I were gone right? 

So I sent him a text that said, I understand you are with your family, but your lack of communication is concerning. So, I ask in the simplest of terms, wtf?  Hit send.  He tries to call me back at 2:24 am, and I'm like nope don't want to talk right now.  

Anyway, I call him this morning and he is now on his way back home.  He informs me that his mother was ill in the hospital and almost died.  Okay fine.  I understand that, I'm not a monster.  If anyone understands the illness of a parent, it's me.  He said he shuts down when things become overwhelming for him.  Again, I totally get shutting down and turning inward.  But, I explained that if we are going to have any kind of relationship, he has to let me know what's going on, or I will shut him out.  It's not that he's doing anything wrong.  It's just my catastrophic thinking kicking in again.  I automatically think that when I don't hear from someone, they don't want me around anymore.  

We both have a long history of putting up walls when it looks like we are going to get hurt.  I'm trying to slowly explain to him, just how dark my mind can get.  I can't risk getting lost in a deep hole again, because there is absolutely no one to pull me out anymore.  My parents and grandparents are gone.  I can NOT count on my sister or brother to help me, because they don't understand nor do I think they want to understand.  

I'm on my own for real.  It scares the shit out of me.  How do I go on?  I just do. One second at a time.  I must admit, I do feel better now that I've talked to him.  Still, I may not get to see him for a while.  If I don't see him tomorrow or Saturday, it will be another week.  I'm not even looking for sex. I just want him to be near me.  Is that what love is?  Is it supposed to make you feel like this?  If so, I don't know if I like it.  I mean I loved my parents, and was always scared they were going to die.  I suppose this is why some people prefer to be alone.  No drama.  Just you and your books, cats or dogs.  I'm going to keep going with him I think.  I see so much potential in us.  We could be fabulous.   Bev and Kev forever.  lol  that's all - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Streaming

 

There comes some points in my day, where my head feels empty.  Then there are some points when it is crowded with thoughts that have no consistency at all.  On both of those occasions, I am usually bored.  I've been bored most of the day.  

I had a dentist appointment today.  It was for a regular cleaning.  All is good with my teeth.  I've been trying very hard to keep up with my activities of daily living. Sometimes, it's difficult.  There are many mornings I lie in bed wondering why I even bother.  

That's why I usually plan things so that I have to leave the house at least once a day.  Today was the dentist, tomorrow is physical therapy.  Friday is my visit to the gynecologist.  It will be my first visit in 3 years.  I'm going because I've been bleeding after sex.  I don't know what it's from.  It's not because the sex is too rough, or even because the guy is too big.  I mean, I bled with Brad, and he's on the small side.  I bleed anywhere from 3 to 5 days afterwards.  

I looked it up online, and it could be anything really, even a sign of cervical cancer.  My last pap smear came back okay, but like I said, that was 3 years ago.  So, I figured it was time to go up on the rack for a check up.  I haven't talked to anyone about it.  It's the kind of thing I'd discuss with my mom, but there you go.

I saw my therapist last week.  I didn't tell her that Kevin and I slept together.  I don't know why.  I guess it's because I'm trying to keep things from getting too much.  I haven't heard from him since Friday.  I'm trying not to be the girl who is needy, but I can't help feeling as if I'm being ignored.

Leos are notorious attention seekers.  We want to be the star and the center of all things.  So, I guess Kevin is not going to give me that.  I don't know maybe he will.  I'm trying really hard to rein myself in from all this doubt and self destructive thinking.  I have to keep reminding myself that I am above all that shit, and I'm fabulous. 

But as Charlotte York said in Sex and the City, "I've been dating since I was 15, I'm exhausted!! Where is he??!!"

Okay, I haven't been dating since I was 15, but I am tired of meeting men who promise the moon, but can't even deliver on a promise to call you back.  That's Kevin's best line.  "I'll call you right back".

He never does, every time he tells me this, he never does.  I wouldn't say it pisses me off, but it does bother me.  I have a really problem with people who say they'll call you and people who are late.  

I believe he is still in Florida, visiting his family.  He's been posting stuff on Facebook as recently as today.  Looks like he's having a good time.  Has he called me or texted?  Why no! He has not.  I must say, I'm a little put out.  I don't like to play games, but I am thinking of ignoring his call for a while.  However, I won't do that.  I'll answer, but I will ask for a few answers.  

I suppose if I had any friends, they would tell me he's probably married or something.  Who knows?  Maybe it's true.  I am spinning around all in the pursuit of love.  I don't want to die some unmarried or unattached spinster.  While I really want to be married, I am not opposed to living with a guy for the rest of my life as long as I have some legal right to property etc. 

Ok, I'm not okay.  I feel like crap.  I pretended to be okay all day, but I'm not.  I want something better than what I have now.  I want to have enough money to be comfortable, a nice house of my own.  I have the car.  I thought I had the guy.  But the bells in my head are ringing. I need him to reassure me.  Things will definitely be decided in 2 weeks when my birthday comes.  If I don't get something for my birthday, I will know he's playing me for a sucker.  

As much as I hate to doubt him, I have to take care of myself.  He's got me feeling things, and the walls are going up around my heart.  I hope he comes through.  

I won't be able to sleep tonight.  My head is spinning and it feels like it's full of rocks.  Maybe, I'll just try to meditate.  Oh fuck, no I won't, I'll just lay there are listen to the storms on my echo.  I guess I'll sign off now.  I wish I could say I feel better, but I don't.  Just more questions. - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: The Midnight Rider

 

Well, it's 3 am, and here I am again.  This has been going on for month or so now.  I fall asleep around midnight, and wake up 3 hours later.  Sometimes, it's because I have to pee.  Other times, I don't know why.  

I've had a lot of anxiety lately.  It's mostly due to my money problems.  But it also has to do with Kevin.  Not that there's anything wrong with us, at least I don't think there is.  I'm worried that I'm being played.  But those feelings, I know, are coming from my insecurities about myself.

That's when the grief hits me again, because I really need to talk to my mom about this stuff.  She knew me better than I know myself.  Now, all I have to talk to is the half gallon of ice cream and hot fudge sauce.  Yes, that's right, I'm binge eating again, and let me tell you, I feel like crap.

I haven't eaten anything good this whole weekend. I also, haven't had a good night sleep.  I'm sure the two are related.  So, I guess I have answered my own question about why I can't sleep.  I'm having anxiety.  I have to burn it off somehow.  

Erica and I were talking yesterday, and I happened to mention how much I loved watercolors and how I wish I could paint.  She asked me why I just didn't do it?  This left me pondering as to why I didn't try it.  It all comes down to my perfectionism.  Intellectually, I know that art is a form of expression.  There is no perfection.  But, as usual, when it comes to anything I do, it must be perfect.  

With all that being said, I will put water color paints, brushes, and paper on my list of things to buy.  I will dabble in watercolor.  Anyhoo, that's all for tonight.  I'm paying for all that hot fudge. I've got the trots.  

B  

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Damn!!!! Broke Again

 

I think I have a problem.  I mean, I've never been good with money.  I can't balance my checking account.  I'm always overdrawn, but this month has been incredibly bad.  I've been overdrawn once $750 and now $975.  To make things worse, I received $2300 from my father's retirement account and blew it in three days.  

I don't know what my problem is.  It seems like I get a little bit of money and lose my fucking mind.  I just buy shit.  It's stuff I want, not what I need. Since, it's so easy to shop online, I am constantly looking up stuff to buy at Walmart.com and Amazon.  

I must admit, I love shopping.  It makes me happy.  It gives me a real thrill I can't any other way.  I am a person who can get easily addicted to anything.  I like food, so I eat too much. I got addicted to smoking.  I mean, if I had a mind to do drugs, I would get addicted too. 

I think it comes from always being told "no we can't afford it ", when I was younger.  Also, having low self-esteem doesn't help.  It's not as bad as it used to be, but there are times, like this morning, when I feel like an ugly toad.  

Also, I buy a lot of things for other people.  I bought a lot of stuff for Erica.  She was having a bad time and I wanted to make her feel better, so I bought her stuff to cheer her up.  It didn't cheer me up too much.  She said thanks, but she doesn't hug me or anything.  I'd like a hug once in a while.  The only person to touch me in the past 2 months has been Kevin.  

So, what to do about my problem?  I don't know.  Maybe, I will delete some apps on my phone and keep it strictly computer based. That way, I can't go shopping on my phone at the doctor's office etc. Maybe that will help me curb my spending.  Also, I need to get rid of my credit cards, and just keep my Chime card and one credit card for emergencies.  

Honestly,  I need an accountant who can give me a monthly spending allowance and pay my bills for me.  Ha! maybe I'll hit the lotto this weekend and win over 100 million. Wouldn't that be some shit!!! I would definitely get an accountant with that kind of money, because I could blow through it in a month.  I wouldn't tell a soul either.  Just kind of drift away.  

By the way, my brother isn't speaking to me again, because of money.  Can't say I blame him too much.  His birthday is tomorrow.  I wonder what I will say?  Happy fucking birthday dickhead!!! No probably not.  I'll see if I can figure out how to do a spreadsheet.  Maybe that will help.  

B  

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark

 

Well, I did it.  Or shall I saw we did it.  Kevin and I had sex.  Actually, it was more than that.  I think for the first time in my life, I made love.  I say that, because I didn't feel like a cheap whore, he actually looked at me, talked to me and wanted to know how I was feeling.  

Not that it was all moonbeams and lollipops.  When he entered me, it did hurt.  Not as much as it did with Derrick, but it did hurt a little.  I went to pee afterwards, and sure enough I was bleeding.  He gave me some time to rest, and he went to sleep.  

It was kind of weird, sleeping with someone.  He snored off and on, and he has a tendency to hog the bed.  I knew I wasn't going to get much sleep anyway, since, I had already stayed up past my bedtime waiting for him.  So, I just caught a couple of catnaps here and there.  

He sleeps naked, and I have to at least have panties on.  He got up 3 times to go to the bathroom.  He put on my fuzzy pink robe, lest he run into someone in the hallway.  We talked a lot.  I am so comfortable with him.  I actually feel safe.  I didn't feel pressured to go down on him.  I wasn't ready. Probably next time.  I had no problem going down on Brad or Derrick.  Probably because that's what was expected.  I was just a fuck buddy after all.  

Kevin did, however, go down on me.  It was incredible.  I came 4 times.  He got me so wet.  He said I tasted like pineapple.  I suppose that's a good thing.  I did enjoy myself more this morning, because everyone was at work.  Last night, everyone was at home and sleeping, so we had to be careful, not to move the bed or yell. 

At any rate, I am now in a relationship.  So, we'll see how it goes.  I am going to be honest, and kind.  Kevin thinks I am the sweetest woman.  He also  said I am more beautiful, when we are making love.  We are going to have to work on some type of arrangement, because he can't come over here all the time.  

I told him, I wanted to go to the zoo, so maybe we can take  weekend and spend it in the city and get a hotel room. Something, anything where we can be alone.  Hopefully, he'll get a place.  I hope he doesn't turn out to be a hobosexual. That's a person who is basically homeless, and gets into a relationship hoping for a place to stay.  I doubt it highly.  He comes off as a totally upstanding person.   

Well, I guess that's all for now.  Stay tuned for the further adventures of Liongirl!!

B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Sorry I'm late, I Didn't want to Come

                

It's been months.  I have sat down so many times to write, but then the urge passes.  I supposed I should write more often, in order to empty my head.  But, somehow, I always chicken out, as if I'm afraid of some grand revelation. I'm also afraid that I won't have anything worth saying. 

Nothing much has changed.  I'm still depressed. I'm still in mourning, and I am still bored out of my ever-loving mind. Well, there has been one major change.  I met a man.  I gave up my fuck buddy Brad, and have met a new man.  His name is Kevin.  He's 6'6" and 60 years old.  He's handsome and sweet, and smart.  He's also poor as a church mouse.  He's basically homeless, as he stays with different friends. 

He does have a couple of jobs, his main job is at night.  He's a fuel technician at the airport.  He has a couple of side hustles.  He is a dreamer, and has some big plans.  He has a couple of lawsuit settlements he is waiting on, with which he is going start his business.  He wants to start a limo service.  

We don't see each other very much, so we talk on the phone.  He is so very easy to talk to.  We talk about almost anything.  He's been to my house a couple of times, but he fell asleep both times.  He kind of makes me nervous.  I could really fall in love with him, but so far I am restraining myself. 

As far as my depression is concerned, I'm not actually sure where it is coming from.  I am still grieving for my parents.  Almost every other thought is of one of them.  Kevin occupies my other thoughts.  I am still out on disability from Amazon.  I am bored almost to death.  I putter around this house all day, trying to invent things to do.  I figure if I can keep myself busy, then I wouldn't have to think.  

However, every morning I have to decide if I want to get out of bed and do something with the day.  Tomorrow, for instance, I am going to the post office to mail a letter.  I also have a therapy appointment.  That's it; nothing else planned for the day.  Do I get up and shower and dress?  What's the point really? But, I do get up and carry out my activities of daily living, just for the sake of not falling deeper into a dark hole. 

I don't sleep much anymore.  I get up in the wee hours and watch mindless TV.  Tonight is a good example.  I think I slept for two hours, and here I am.  Oh well, I guess I should try to relax and go back to sleep.  I might masturbate.  It relaxes me.  But, I'm not really feeling horny.  That's all for now I guess.  Peace, Joy, Love - B  

 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Ashes on the Table

 

Well, they are both here in my room.  My parents are sitting on a table in a corner of the room.  Their urns sitting next to each other with a picture of them next to each of them.  They have been reunited in death.  At least that's the way I put them.  

I think I will keep them for a few years.  I suppose it would be morbid for some people to have ashes in their bedroom, but it gives me a great deal of comfort.  I have them nearby again.  I say good morning, and talk to them when ever I want.  Does that strike you as strange?  It shouldn't.  It's not like I hear their voices talking back.  I almost wish I could.  I don't hear anything from them.  

It's like they disappeared.  I had a session with my therapist yesterday.  I cried.  I tried to explain how I was feeling.  I feel like I don't belong to anyone anymore.  I am an orphan.  I have no family.  But, that's not true.  I have a sister, brother, niece and nephew, aunts etc.  But, it's not the same as having parents.  

With parents comes a home. A place to return to on major holidays; a home base.  Home is a place where memories are stored.  I don't have that anymore.  My memories, what few I have, are scattered to the four corners of the earth.  I'm trying desperately to remember things.  Going through all these photographs helps.  It's helping me to remember chunks of my life that were wiped  out by shock therapy.

I found a couple of my letters from my mom.  Maybe not letters, but journal entries.  In one, she talks about how much she loves to do laundry.  I thought that was funny, since laundry is my favorite thing to do too.  I love the smell of fresh laundry.  So did she.  The other entry was about a nightmare she had.  It reminded me about my own nightmares.  It's almost as if my mom and I are the same person.  

So, there they are.  Ashes on my table, sitting there watching over me.  I don't mind.  I know they will protect me.  I can turn to them at any time.  Regardless of the fact that they were divorced, they are my parents, and they will always be together in my heart. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Dear Dad

 

Dear Dad, 

It's been 41 days.  Not a day goes by that I don't think of you.  I long to talk to you and hear you call me baby girl. It doesn't seem real.  One day you were here and the next you were gone.  It's not fair.  I wasn't ready to lose you.  I had no time to prepare.

The last few days haven't been too great.  I've been sleeping too much, and staring at the walls.  I haven't been able to delete your phone number.  It's kind of like, as long as I have it, you might call.  I know that's just unrealistic and childish, but I don't care.  

Julie is sending your ashes to us in a couple of weeks.  I picked out an urn for you.  It has an eagle flying over a mountain.  I think you will like it.  I know you're divorced, but we are going to sit you on a shelf next to mom.  It's only temporary.  Mom wants to be scattered on Grandmom and Grandpop's graves.  Jerald will take her up there, when things clear up. 

The weather up north is dreadful.  They've had snow storm after storm. Some places have over 20 inches of snow.  The weather here has been horrible too. It's just been cold and rainy.  I guess that's added to my downward mood.  It's sunny today, so I am feeling better. 

Oh dad, I miss you terribly.  I've only cried twice.  Is that weird?  Sometimes, I want to just weep, but I can't.  My doctor says that my meds are keeping me on an even keel.  She's probably right.  Please visit me if you can.  I still have that old thermal jacket of your's.  I wear it whenever I need to feel your arms around me.  I love you daddy.  

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Valentine's Day

 

It's Valentine's Day.  The day that all single people dread.  I had almost hoped this year would be different, as I have a lover.  However,  it's not.  He avoids holidays with me as if I were some kind of side chick.  I guess I am.  I'm not in love with him, but is it too much to want some kind acknowledgment?  Perhaps, I'm just a fool.

I do want a hug, a kiss, and comforting words.  But, not from Brad, my parents.  I want to hear my mom and dad laugh.  I want to give them hugs.  I want the warmth of being in their embrace.  It's been almost a year since my mom died, and a little over a month for my dad.

The grief washes over me sometimes, like a powerful wave.  It knocks me off my feet and leaves me gasping for air.  I stayed in bed all day on Thursday.  I just didn't care.  I want my parents.  I didn't get to say goodbye to either of them the way I wanted to.  I didn't get to say the things I wanted to say.

Life is such a chore.  Sometimes, it takes you to the highest highs, and then everything comes crashing down around your ears and you can't make sense of anything.  I think if it wasn't for my meds, I'd have been hospitalized.  I feel sad today.  I would like to be with someone, but then I want to be alone.  

I'm watching old movies today.  I just finished Wuthering Heights, and now I'm watching It Happened One Night.  Maybe I'll take a nap.  I feel like eating some fried chicken.  Off to  KFC, I guess.  

Happy Valentine's Day to me.  I'm tired. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Merry Christmas and My Dad Died

 

I haven't posted in a while, and I have good reasons.   Things have been crazy for the past 12 months.  I had hoped after Aunt Berta's death, things would look up around here.  However, I was greatly mistaken.  Christmas was great. I got some great gifts and spent entirely too much money on everyone else.  Without mom to buy for, I felt hard pressed to spend money on someone, so I bought a bunch of stuff for April and Erica.  

I had wanted to spend the holidays with my father because I hadn't seen him in five years.  I couldn't do that in 2020 because of the virus etc. But, I wanted to visit him in 2021.  However, that was not to be.  I talked to my father on Christmas day, he sounded a bit stuffy.  He insisted that it was just a cold and he felt okay.  By December 31, he was in the hospital having been diagnosed with COVID. 

I had the pleasure of being the family member that the doctor talked to about my fathers case.  I talked to her, Dr. Casement, three times.  By the end of our conversations, I was informed my father had refused additional care, and that he was in fact going to die within hours.  

We set up a Zoom call to talk to him one last time, and we did.  He looked terrible, he was struggling with every breath.  He told us that he would be fine and not to worry about him.  He told us to go ahead and live our lives.  He even made a joke, saying to cremate him and put his ashes on a shelf so he can keep an eye on me.  We said our I love you's and good byes.  On Wednesday January 6th at 3:50 am, my father died.  I became an orphan.  

So, I lost my mom in the beginning of 2020, and my father at the beginning of 2021.  So far, this year is turning out to be as shitty as last year.  How am I?  I don't know.  Most of the time, I can go about my business, but then other times I get the overwhelming desire to call him.  I used to call him 2 or 3 times a week.  Now, nothing.  The only calls I get are from doctors and spam calls.

I got drunk last Sunday and freaked out completely.  I cried hysterically, slammed doors and yelled at people.  Needless to say, I got in trouble with April and Erica.  But, I apologized the next day, and we are cool.  I've been trying to find things to do not to think about things so much.  

But, I ended up working on photo albums featuring my parents.  I got new albums from Hobby Lobby and having been putting the pictures in them.  I also took my dad's Air Force picture to get it matted and framed.  I found my moms senior class picture and am having it done.  

One reason I am trying so hard to stay busy is because I'm going through some health stuff.  My right ankle is totally messed up.  I have osteoarthritis, and much to my surprise, my achilles tendon has completely calcified. The surgeon said he will have to graft a cadaver tendon on my ankle.  Also, I'm having nerve issues.  I think I have diabetic neuropathy.  But, the good news is that my A1c is low enough that I no longer need insulin.  I just need my metformin for the next 3 months, and if it's still low, I may be able to stop diabetic meds all together.  

I am still with Brad of a fashion.  We did not see each other at Christmas.  We spent the 23rd together.  We also didn't spend New Year's eve together.  Valentine's Day is approaching, and I doubt I'll see him.  I'm not upset about it though.  I figure we are just friends with benefits.  If I do see him, then that will be a pleasant surprise.

So that's it for now.  Life is sucky, and I'm trying to keep my head up.  Staying positive is a challenge, but I just take it minute by minute.  Right now, I'm okay. It's only the 25th day of the new year and I'm exhausted already.  Happy Fucking New Year. I want my dad. - B

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Holiday Letter to Mom

 

Dear Mom, 

Well, Christmas is 9 days away.  I feel a little lost right now. I want so much to call you and get your advice, hear your laugh, and get a phone hug.  But, now, more than ever, Im hit with the fact that you are gone.  There are no Christmas cookies this year.  The smell of baked goods in our apartment comes from candles.  I thought about baking, but it just hurts too much.  I go buy the cookie ingredients, and the sugars and I start to cry.  I've been thinking of something that I could do to honor your memory.  

I've decided to watch your favorite movies so I could hear you laughing in the corners of my mind.  Erica had a good idea.  She said I should buy something and donate it.  I just might do that, like buy a turkey for someone at your church.  I'll have to contact Angela about it.

Anyway Mom, a lot has happened since I last wrote.  I'm not talking to Tony anymore.  He was very sketchy when it came to us getting together.  This was after 5 months of texting 2 or 3 times a day.  One day, I asked him to call me, and he never did.  I decided not to chase him, and see if he ever would reach out, but he didn't.  It's funny, I thought I was in love.  Anyway, after about 3 weeks, I moved on.  I stayed on my own for about a month.  Then, I met Brad. 

Brad is 49, divorced and white.  He's an average middle-aged white guy, but he still has his hair.  He has blue eyes and brown hair.  He's about 6 feet with a bit of belly.  We texted for about a month, and finally met in October.  He's very nice, and he thinks I'm beautiful.  When I'm with him, I feel sexy as hell.  We have had sex.  It's amazing.  I feel free, and not ashamed of my body. I'm not in love with him, yet.  But we talk about a lot of things, and we are gradually finding out each other's quirks.  He has a good job, with great money.  He has his own home in Athens.  I think you would like him. 

I'm working at Amazon as a sortation associate.  I like my job, but to be honest the bloom has faded from the rose.  I'm dreaming about packages, and warehouses.  Everywhere I look, there are boxes waiting to be sorted and placed into routing bags for delivery.  Even with my sleeping pills, I dream about it.  

I notified SSA about my job, and I got a letter from them today saying my disability will continue for 6 more months.  I was given a 9 month work trial.  So, I get to keep my benefits until June 2021.  I also got a check from Uncle Bill today for 2k, that is a gift from Aunt Berta.  I've decided to save it toward a new Subaru Ascent.  It's a really nice SUV that I've driven a few times as a loaner for when my car was in the shop.  I love that car.  There's plenty of room for everyone and their stuff.  

I'm down to once a month for therapy sessions and once every 3 months for psychiatrist visits.  I've been making a lot of decisions and figuring things out for myself.  I'm not so needy anymore.  I've finally developed those coping skills I've been trying to learn for the past 30 years.  

Zelda the cat is just fabulous.  She is the kitty I've always wanted.  She's fun, affectionate and smart.  She loves to play fetch.  Zuko thinks she's pretty great, but Zabra can do without her most of the time.  We are trying to do a rent to own house, and found one we love.  We're just waiting to hear back from the agent.  When we get settled, I want to get another cat and Erica wants a dog.  She wants a Samoyed.  It's a Nordic breed, medium-sized and fluffy.  I hope we get the house.  It's gorgeous, you would love it.  

Well, I guess that's all for now.  I just wanted to catch you up on all I've been doing.  I really miss you.  I've seen you pop in for visits just to check on me by way of a cardinal.  I say hi, but you usually don't stay long.  I saw you the other day, you stayed for a while.  That was nice.  I hope Aunt Berta is settling in okay.  I'm sure you were glad to see her again.  Tell her thank you for the gift.  I miss her too.  As always, tell grandmom, grandpop, nana, poppop, Uncle Millard and Aunt Neatsy I said hello.  Things just aren't the same without you.   I love you mommy, now and for eternity.  

B