the one where she loses her uterus

the roof  threatens to cave in. the walls release their grip and disappear into the sky.  the sun baits her, but she can’t go.

her baby warmer isn’t ever going to warm a baby.

But, it will be okay. I promise.

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I believe I can fly

All day long, in the back of my mind, I have been thinking about the dream I had last night.

I dreamed that I could fly.

It was amazing. Every single night for the last 6 months, I have gone to sleep only to dream about running for exercise. Every night. Running. Not being chased or wishing the “race” was over. There is no race. It’s just me. Running. In my dreams I can run forever, and that’s perfectly fine with the dream version of me. But last night was different. While I was running, I rounded a corner to go down a hill. For some reason I decided to jump. While in mid air, I stretched my body out to extend my “air time”, and I kept getting higher and higher. The friend I was with had a jump-height measuring device (who doesn’t) and agreed to use it so we could really see how high I was getting. He said to jump again, and when I did, I was 70 feet in the air. At that point, I just rotated my body and I was flying through the sky. Like Superman. So. Awesome.

That was some kind of confirmation…

Tracy and I went to Charlie’s confirmation on Friday night. It was at St. Williams Catholic church.

I don’t even know where to start. It was a mess. Let me back up a bit.

Tracy and I were both off of work, so we went to lunch. While at lunch, we were talking about these houses we had recently looked at. The model home wasn’t open on the day we went, so she called to see if they would be there in an hour. They would be, it was set.  I was really excited because I’m ready to move on and move forward in life. I’m ready to take this next step in becoming an adult by becoming a homeowner with my wife. We went to look at the model home and then we toured some other homes with different floor plans. There were things we liked and didn’t like, and it was interesting to start this process with Tracy. After you live with and love someone for almost 11 years, you start to think you have it all figured out. I proved myself totally wrong.  But, throughout the day, I noticed that we started getting short with each other and that there was a lot of tension. I wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but I disregarded it because I knew we were both tired.  So, later that night when we went to Charlie’s confirmation (at the gay-hating, little kid abusing “Catholic” church), I quickly realized that it wasn’t because we were tired.  As a side note… First of all, I’m not comfortable with the Catholic church, but this was a big day for Charlie, so it was only right to attend. Secondly, when the Bishop asked the kids being confirmed what confirmation meant, one of them stood up and said “it’s fearing God”. Okay then.

After the service was over, we all went to an Italian Restaurant to eat. All of Tracy’s extended family was there, there was a set menu, etc. I’ve been around her (extended) family for at least 8 years now. I see them each time there’s a birthday party, baby shower, special occasion, etc. I have tried at one time or another to engage each of them in conversation. To this day, only 3 of them will speak to me. I adore the 3 of them. I feel included and happy when I see them because I know they don’t see me as the gay black sheep. So, at the restaurant, we walk in the door. Robert (one of the amazing 3) walks right over to give me a big hug. He smells great, he’s always smiling. It was nice. We take a few more steps in, and that’s when Tracy headed off into the sea of people, leaving me with a big gay spotlight over my head.  I stand there alone and try to think of the million reasons why she feels pressure around these people. It should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. We eventually take a seat, and I start to drink. It’s Italian food and a set menu, so there’s really not much I can eat. So I drink (6 glasses of wine in 1 hour), and Tracy has to drive me home.

Tracy and I had a long talk the next day. We discussed the fact that she feels guilt about the current state of our house (never ending remodel + foundation issues). I know more than that though, it’s hard for her to let go because it was her grandmother’s house. She also has anxiety about buying a new house. And, when she feels pressure and anxiety, she gets super sensitive and tries to control something- a situation, me, whatever. It’s her way of bringing everything back into the realm of calm.  We also discussed that our disagreements hinge around the fact that (at times) we don’t communicate very well- sometimes not at all.  I become very withdrawn when I feel out of place or like an outcast, and I expect her to stand by me during those times. What I really need to remember is that although we’re a couple, I can stand alone. I can deal with the fact that not everyone likes gay people, and more importantly, that’s their cross to bare, and not a reflection of who I am.

Goals resulting from said situation:

I’m not going to drink for a while

Practice self care in the form of focusing on who I am and who I can help

Continue to love my adorable wife and reassure her that everything’s okay

No phone games in her presence

Gorgeous green grass update…

Oh how my grass has grown. So super proud of it! I’m going to cut it tonight, which is a little scary for me, but I’m sure it will be fine. If all goes well, it will continue to grow and not dry out and die. In other news, Armondo and Leo seem to love the grass. It must feel soft on their paws compared to the regular old St. Augustine they are used to running through.

Ryker the great

Yesterday I watched my youngest nephew, Ryker, while his parents and older brother attended a longhorn baseball game.

We had a bit of a rough day, but it was totally worth it. I love that little guy.

My Gramma & Aunt Lola

My Aunt Lola passed away late last night. I wonder if my gramma waved and said “hellooooo” when she saw Aunt Lola again. I have great memories of Aunt Lola, although they are undoubtedly connected to my gramma in some form or fashion. They both had a rough childhood, but they got through it together. They each knew where they had come from, shared the grief of what they had been through, and felt a bond as a result.

Their mother passed away when gramma was 7 & Aunt Lola was 14. Their mother died of pneumonia, and although their dad survived pneumonia, he became very mentally unstable after her death. Aunt Lola married Uncle Kenny shortly after their mother died. Gramma and her younger brother Junior went to live with cousins. In my gramma’s journals during this period in her life, she was a very lonely girl and would often times write “Lola was supposed to come today”, or “I wish Lola would come to visit”. It reminds me a lot of the time when my gramma and mom had to go to Ohio and my sister and I stayed with my parents’ friends for a month. Shone took care of me. I relied on her and was scared when she wasn’t there. I wonder if that’s the same way my gramma felt without her sister during that time. It was also during this time that my gramma’s father was released from the mental hospital he had been checked into. He went to get my gramma and take her home, but drug her through the middle of town while she was in her pajamas. The police arrested him and took him back to the hospital. Everyone in their community knew he was insane and she would later talk about how scary that day was for her.

Once Aunt Lola and Uncle Kenny got settled in on the farm, gramma went to live with them. Aunt Lola became gramma’s mother and gave up her opportunity at an education so that my gramma could have one. Gramma used to tell me a story about how Aunt Lola would stand at the front door and watch all of the kids walk to school, and how she wanted so badly to be smart like them.

When Aunt Lola was still alive, it was like there was still one person who held the key to everything I could possibly forget that my gramma told me. Without her here, I’m left trying try to remember all of the details on my own. That’s a scary thought. RIP Aunt Lola Juhl.

I get my love for flowers from my gramma:

Aunt Lola:

This picture always reminds me of Aunt Lola & Uncle Kenny’s farm:

This was a great day. Gramma:

Anxiety is the worst

Out of all of the emotions I feel on a daily basis, the worst by far is anxiety. I’m in the middle of switching back to zoloft, and the transition is difficult. I look at Armondo and feel guilty because I know he wants to go on a walk and stretch his legs, but at the moment it seems too scary to go outside. I know the walk would make me feel better too- I wouldn’t feel so trapped in my mind, but for some reason I just can’t do it. So I look at him and feel like I’m a disappointment to him, and when he’s gone one day I’ll think back to this moment and wonder why I couldn’t pull it together long enough to stop thinking about myself and make him happy. And then he comes and curls up next to me. He nuzzles his way under my arm and onto my lap as I type, like any loyal dog would. I’m reminded of his unconditional love, and although it makes me feel good that he’s by my side, I’ve let him down.

Anxiety is the worst. It paralyzes to the point that I can’t speak any words in an audible voice. I’ve used up all of my anxious days, and that doesn’t make it better. It is what it is.