Running up that hill.
I hope that May may be the best May that it may be.
I meant to write a post in April, but I could not think of anything to write about. Every time I would start to write something, I would realize that my stories were as Jennifer would say, ‘all middle’. I just couldn’t find a way to get down on the page what was going on with me.
Last we spoke, I had just involuntarily flailed myself out of the trough of depression. I was at the bottom of the hill—I could not see the top of it, but I knew that I had risen just a bit. I was still struggling to complete my activities of daily living and care tasks around the house. I was having a hard time keeping my act together while at work. I had just found out that I had been terminated from the CRSS internship which I had not shown up to in months. And that that was a relief.
Since then I have been running up that hill, slowly but surely. I can almost see the summit, but a few dark clouds are blocking it. These will surely pass before I reach the top. Until then I have a really good playlist to jam out to while I work, commute, or walk. Here is the Spotify version:
Here is a link to the less succinct Apple Music version.
I may always struggle with my ADLs and care tasks, but I have been doing much better since my last post. Especially with my activities of daily living. I’m now showering at least six out of seven days, versus the two or three days out of seven that I was doing for months. I feel better mentally and physically when I shower, but the barrier to entry is pretty damned high when I am depressed. I do not believe that daily showering is required for everyone or even most people, but for me it kind of is. It’s like shaving. I don’t have to do it, but since I am going clean-shaven lately it’s easier to shave almost daily than it is to let the stubble get where shaving it off is an onerous task. So, ADLs are improving. Let’s go on to care tasks/chores.
I despise cleaning. I have hated it for most of my life. That said, I like having a clean house. It is an aspiration of mine to have enough money to hire a house cleaner that comes at least once a month. Because having a dirty house does have an adverse effect on my mood. I wish that were not the case, but it most certainly is. Jennifer and I just hosted a dinner party for Orthodox Easter. Jennifer cooked an amazing array of delicious Greek food. We had ten adults and four children on Sunday and we finally got all of the common areas of the house to a place where we weren’t ashamed to have company.
All of these fine people know and love us, and most of them have seen our house dirty before, but it was still nice to welcome them to a clean and inviting space. Now all we have to do is maintain it. That is easier said than done, I know. But I am learning to not be ashamed about not always keeping up with my care tasks. Like KC Davis says over and over “Care tasks are morally neutral.” It is the first pillar of her Six Pillars of Struggle Care.
I still don’t have my cooking mojo back, but Jennifer and I are making a concerted effort to not order takeout unless absolutely necessary or as a very special treat. Will cooking become something that I love doing again? Or was it just a years-long ADHD hyperfocus that has lost its appeal? Who knows? All I know is that I feel better physically and financially when we prepare our own food. That said, cooking can be a real slog. Lunch is especially a problem. As Jennifer says, “Lunch is a stupid meal.” I do feel capable of cooking regularly again—even if half-assed.
Work is going as well as can be, considering the upheaval that the house is going through. The kitchen at the group home that I work at is getting a back-to-the-studs remodel. When it gets finished it is going to be beautiful and so much more functional for a house of seven folks than the sad 1980s kitchen was. Until then it is utter chaos and has been so for the last two-and-a-half weeks. The poor members of the house have to live off of food that can be microwaved or eaten cold until the kitchen is finished. My clients are trying to take it in stride, but it is clearly stressing them out. Thank goodness that this is a temporary situation. The office area where I do ninety percent of my work was on the first floor in the relatively airy living room but is now in the stuffy basement which is prone to flooding. Unfortunately, this is permanent. Not ideal, but we are muddling through. May 18th will mark my first year with the agency—by far the longest job I have had since being laid off in September 2018. If all goes well in my life, I will be leaving this job sooner rather than later, but until then I am glad to have the pay (low that it may be) coming in. And the health insurance (crappy that it may be) that I have through this job.
Speaking of health—I had a bit of a scare that added to my depressive mood. My new primary care physician referred me to get a lung cancer screening after my first appointment with her. I am over fifty now and a former smoker who has quit within the last fifteen years (10 years, 6 months, and 10 days ago to be exact) so this will probably be a test that I get for years to come. On the initial CT scan, they found a spot or nodule that was about 1.5 centimeters long, .8 centimeters wide, and just shy of 1 cubic centimeter in volume. It was spiculated (spiky) which is slightly more likely to be cancerous than a round nodule. Over all the pulmonologist said that I had between a 10 and 15 percent chance of having lung cancer with this result. I had a blood draw to see if any markers for cancer were present. This came back negative, so I likely do not have lung cancer, but for the last three or four months, I have been incredibly anxious about this. I still have a PET/CT scan where they will put contrast dye into my lungs to get a better look at the nodule and to see if it has grown any. Hopefully, it will be the same size when they scan it next month. Send good thoughts etc.
I just remembered that I had Covid again the first week or so of April. It seems to have been a minor case. My doctor gave me Paxlovid to hopefully keep the long Covid away. Jennifer miraculously did not get it this time either (thanks to masking in the house when in the same area, isolating when not, and our awesome HEPA filter units) and she remains one of the few novids that I know.
My instructor and advisor for my internship informed me that another group might be willing to take me on as an intern and to reach out to them for an interview. Before I could reach out, my former classmate and friend who works for this group called me to set up an interview. I had Covid at the time so I asked to postpone it a few days. I catastrophized that the interview was going to go badly and that I was never going to find a new internship. Jennifer coached me on what to say about my experience at the prior internship and more importantly what not to say. This calmed me considerably. I need not have worried. The interview went incredibly well and I started the next week. I just began my fourth week and everything is going very well. I learned and did more in the first week than I had in two months of the other internship. The vibe of the new place is wholly positive. The people who work there are incredibly friendly, capable, and care deeply about their clients. I have been blown away by how much empathy, compassion, and kindness I have seen in the last three weeks. It inspires me to be my very best at everything I do there—even popping popcorn for the clients to have after the last recovery meetings of the day. The commute is long, so I have to get up by 5:15 to get ready to meet the 6:24 bus across from my house. But I jump right out of bed excited to have another day at Above and Beyond Family Recovery Center. This was not the case at my last internship. Y’all should check out Above and Beyond—it’s a great place.
Now that I am working six days a week again I find that I do not have much spare time, and what time I do have is spent on care tasks, relaxing, or other self-care. Which means that I have not been working on my goals. I know, I know. Nobody but me really cares if I ever learn to paint or some shit, but I do. I will try my best to set aside some time to pursue at least one of the goals every Sunday. Not because I have to, but because it will please me. Pleasure is something that I never think that I deserve, but a life without it is so very drab. And the last thing I want is a drab life.
Thank you, as always, for reading.
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