The down in your quilt
Reminds me of the
usefulness of everything,
even those who lose.
In the smoke of the
gun blast I saw Gabriel
lay down his sword and pray.
The bird fell professionally.
The next day rolled over
to find you warm
beneath the down.
A few minutes ago I went upstairs to get two excedrin and an electric heating pad for my husband. He reorganized the living room, carried the big vacuum downstairs (a struggle for me) cleaned upholstery, and then…he shoveled our ice encrusted driveway. If you have never shoveled an iced over, snow laden driveway (or more to the point, watched your scandalously sexy man shovel one) you don’t know how much work it is. My husband is a strong guy and no sissie, and he was still panting and hurting his back.
I offered him drinks, then a warm jacket. He declined both. Then I admit I spent a bit of time on the porch with the cold eating through my dress like acid in order to watch my husband work. There is something so inherently erotic and toe curling about watching a strong man do something hard, something physical.
My husband does so many great, vital, necessary things. He takes care of our little family. Sometimes it is thankless work – like when he is up getting ready for work at 3 am. The times we need a few things at the grocery store and he dashes through the cold or rain to go get them. Vigilant bedside visitation when I, his wife, try to kill myself. Visiting me in hospitals for physical or mental wounds. Handling household setups after moves. Taking trash bins out to the street when the wind is trying to kick the lid back and knock his teeth in. The way he puts together the things we live with and on.
There is so much more. I need to remember gratitude. Each day I make an effort to thank Craig for what he has done, for what he is doing. Is it enough? How many millions of things does he do each day that I don’t acknowledge because they are the fabric of our married life, because he does them so quietly, because I just don’t have the breath or the words?
I need to give him more gratitude each day, whether by putting his boots up or looking him straight in the eyes and saying, “Thank you. I love you.”
Because the things he does, just as much as the things he says, show his love for me.
Today has been amazing. It started with some cuddles with Craig when he got home from his mid.
After that I jumped in the shower and enjoyed the steam and clean feel. Sometimes I don’t feel well enough to shower, so that made me happy.
Afterward I started some laundry, mopped the floors, did the dishes, took out the recycling, took out the trash, and ran the roomba.
I then did some photography experiments.
I used text and video to teach Angelica a lesson about volcanoes.
I spent time in a devotional.
Completely unrelated, I enjoyed part of a volume of erotic poetry.
Then, to top a perfect morning off, I got to spend time catching up with my friend L over the phone.
Such a successful morning! I hope to feel this good and be this productive the rest of the day.
I stand in the sweaty afternoon
with my plucky face bared
to inconsiderate air.
I played cymbals until sound
quit without notice.
Even the waves beat the
I am leaking from my skin,
Watering the grass.
Marketers breathe into their telephones,
into territories of love and laundry.
into the most private
biomes of gratitude and violence.
Can I buy an antibiotic
for the infection in my thoughts?
Mornings are mundane.
The soundless ill intent
the sun counting the life that
slips from me in grams.
I saw a new psych doctor 50 miles away from home. The trip itself went badly. I was a nervous wreck driving that far by myself (Craig had a swing shift and couldn’t take me), and on top of that our poor babysitter was sick and I had to bring Angelica with me. I had major anxiety the whole way there, even though Craig found me a route that kept me off the highway. Staying off the highway is better for me anxiety wise.
I cried during the 1 hour drive home. By the time I pulled into the garage I was screaming so loudly that I frightened myself. It was as though I could hear hell welling up from the depths of my screams.
The actual appointment was alright. She didn’t seem up to date and I am not sure we clicked, but she gave me refill prescriptions of the drugs I am on, and since those haven’t been enough she added a second mood stabilizer. Latuda. It has been years since I was on Latuda. I really hope that in combination with my other stabilizer it makes a big difference. I love winter as a season, but winter of 18/19 has been a really hard one overall.
I am hopeful and trying to stay positive. I need this combination to work. I have also added Buspar to lower my overall anxiety levels. Lately the anxiety has been so bad that I am using Clonopin more than I would prefer. Buspar does nothing for panic attacks, so it is not a substitute for benzodiazepines. However, by lowering your overall anxiety levels it can decrease the number of times a week that you reach the point of panic.
Main stabilizer and antidepressant are the same for now.
Hopefully this spring things will be on the rise. There is so much I want and need to do.