Consistency is key. When I start putting my self care routine, (namely two walks per day) to the side, things start to slide. That sciatica I had a few months of reprieve from, starts to rear its ugly symptoms again. My anxious thoughts start to overpower. I feel gloomy, lonely, and hopeless. I’ve reached that part of the year where this rut happens, it’s seasonal depression. I naively thought since it’s been warmer and I’ve been outside more that it wouldn’t hit but no amount of outdoor time can fix it when there’s no UV light and thus no vitamin D to derive from the sun.
I opened the store timing-wise to counteract the feelings of isolation that also naturally happen come winter. We’re all just inside and prone to hibernation mode. Well, we have to eat, so come on by and get some food and conversation to break up the daily monotony, it’s good for all of us! It’s the week of Christmas so I’m baking and making neighbor treats. Having a sourdough crisis in that I can’t seem to get a good rise, so loaf after loaf is a new experiment and little tweaks here and there. If you’ve received a flatish loaf from me, it’s still good, just pop it in the toaster for a bit! Or make it into a stuffing or croutons, we’ve done all of the above with much delight.
This is all to say, this time of year is hard, but also joy filled. Lonely and quiet but also inviting and eye opening. Looking for ways to express gratitude daily. Noticing how I crave color this time of year when all is brown and flat, so when I look up and get a beautiful sunrise or sunset it feels like a gift just for me. Laughing with people but also crying about the pain of it all. We will come to know the vastness of our emotions but will not be slaves to them. I was made by a powerful Creator, and I am a powerful creation. It is within all of us. What we choose to do with is up to us.
Look what a three mile hike outside of town can do to get my writing flowing again. Thanks for reading!
It’s been 12 years since my mom breathed her last earthly breath. Today felt “off” in a lot of ways and when I finally recognized why I went a lot easier on myself and let my family know too. You can reset the day however many times you need and at any given moment. I’m also going to sleep before 10 on account of the time change so tomorrow me can be ready for the earlier sunrise.
It feels okay to write about what this south star concept means to me now that my dad is in the depths of his dementia and will never read or comprehend these words. This is in no disrespect to either of them I want to make that clear, but theirs was a marriage with a lot of turmoil. It was like two different marriages under one roof. My dad lived in a lot of darkness and depression for the decade after she died and before he got sick. She was the love of his life. Since he got dementia, he still thinks she’s alive, and it really works out better this way for all of us. My mom on the other hand wanted out. She voiced it regularly the last 5 years of her life. She felt stuck and tired and run down from holding up the marriage on her own due to the family disease of alcoholism. My dads raging alcoholism let him live in a fantasy world where everything was perfect, while she lived much of her life in misery – overworking to pay the always late bills, keeping the household afloat, martyring herself to the cause until it literally killed her.
I’ve forgiven them both in so many ways. And the biggest one is using their example as my south star. Whenever there is something out of harmony or reminiscent of my childhood growing up in an alcoholic home I don’t have to go resolve it using that same old beaten path. I can chart a new one and try something different. I can use any number tools that 12 step work has given me. I always have options and people to support me. I don’t have to do the same thing over and over again and expect different results (that’s the definition of insanity).
Don’t like a yelling house? Don’t yell and instead take your anger outside into nature. I screamed at the sky today and my throat still hurts. Don’t like passive aggressive behavior? Stand up to it and call it out for what it is in the moment. Ask for clarification and demand rigorous honesty. Be transparent with your kids about serious topics like money, sex, and addictions. Tell them where you’ve struggled and why. I didn’t get a North Star growing up but that doesn’t mean the next generation has to repeat the same traumas I experienced.
Gosh I miss my mom with such a huge part of my heart, but I wouldn’t have learned nearly all that I have in her absence. Her death pushed me to seek out healthy relationships with so many wonderful lifelong women friends and mentors that I know I wouldn’t have dared seeking out had she not died. I wouldn’t have the life I have today if she was still here, resentful and bitter. She loved a lot of things in her life earth-side, us kids above all else, being a grandma even if only for a short while, God, and even my dad despite his addiction. I don’t know how much she loved herself though, and that is another south star. Loving myself means I have love to offer others without reservation or judgement. She was a good example in modeling a Christ like love and for that I am grateful. Grief can me mixed and messy and this is what that powerful loss means to me 12 years later
One of the hardest of recent memory. I moved my dad again today, not because I wanted to or even had a choice. His facility in Payson sent an eviction notice a couple weeks ago, apparently they and Medicaid can’t get their $hit together to facilitate payment smoothly. The house manager, Chris had called me repeatedly asking what I could do about it and my answer has consistently been a big ole nothing. I mean I’m doing our part, paying into Medicaid via my dad’s spend down and paying the facility agreed upon lower rent that Medicaid is then supposed to cover the difference. My dad was evicted because he is poor. Plain and simple.
We have a Medicaid case manager that I’ve been in touch with through all of this. She asked me a couple weeks ago coinciding with the eviction notice if I would be willing to move my dad out of Orchard View and into a facility that was easier to work with. I said yes and let her steer. She found the new place, booked a mover, discussed the new agreements and kept me well informed. She also told me that Chris had been verbally abusive to her so she was no longer communicating with him or Orchard View (OV). So I had some trepidation about retrieving my dad from there this morning.
When we got to OV this morning (we being the kids and I thanks to a random Monday off school) there was a palatable feeling of sadness amongst my dad’s care staff. Chris had excuses for his behavior, but I don’t buy it and maybe he’ll sue us but there’s literally nothing I can do to make up for what my dad couldn’t afford to pay while we waited and waited on Medicaid, don’t ever get old with no financial security it’s truly a nightmare and had my dad not had an advocate he’d likely be living on the streets.
Back to the main event though…There was lots of holding hands and comfort and some tears. He really does make an impact once people spend a good measure of time with him. He was also in a great mood, at one point of complete lucidity he said, “Let’s go back to Colorado”. This broke my heart wide open. This man rarely acknowledges that we’re even in a different state when we get him for outings despite all the Utah license plates, the landscape confusion and an interstate he’s unfamiliar with. I think maybe he was anticipating a drive today and maybe the long road trip we took when we first moved him to Utah just over a year ago. This is all conjecture, as his next sentence was, “I loved that song.” So who really knows.
So we get to his new facility with some of his things, still waiting to hear from the movers for his furniture. They’re surprised we’re there and aside from the vacant room are not aware that today was move in day…great. They let us unload and say to wait for Mikayla to come back from lunch. We unload while my dad sits and waits in unfamiliar surroundings, and waiting is just about the worst for him as it begins to get him agitated. I decide to run to the store with him for a few needed items and to break up the waiting. As the kids and I are grabbing our late lunch I get a call from the new facility’s owner asking all the questions and wondering when we planned on moving in. I said we were halfway moved in already and today would be great, in fact you’re our only option at this point. So we hurry back to the new place, meet Mikayla, sign a load of new paperwork, hand over a large check, all with my dad waiting once again, getting up to pace around a few times and having his mood sour further. When it came time for us to leave the movers still hadn’t been in touch, we were running late for a parent teacher conference back home, and dad was coming unraveled. He asked why we had to leave, could he come with me, why did he have to stay there, nobody was going to care for him. All of it and all of the guilt. I made our exit quick instead of lingering since any answer I was giving at this point was only making him more agitated.
The first thing I did when I got back in my car was call the movers, they were indeed still planning on today, their morning job was much longer than originally anticipated. Fortunately their dispatch called me several more times through the evening to let me know their progress. I think things finally got delivered by about 8pm. Good thing dad rarely goes to bed early. Megan, our Medicaid coordinator touched base while I was on my evening walk and I think is genuinely looking out for dad’s best interest. It’s going to be a rough few weeks adjusting to the new place if past experience has anything to teach us. I’m completely emotionally exhausted, am super grateful for my kid’s help with the physical parts, and at a loss for yet another example of a broken system failing us. It shouldn’t be this way. Yet here we are, the hard day is over and we get a new day tomorrow hopefully with far fewer obstacles.
I’ve made a lot of start and stop attempts at writing these last couple weeks. There are a lot of thoughts floating about my head around mind, body, daily routines, wellness, and food. I start and stop then get stuck in my head, then get stuck on the couch, then get sucked into all the other things that need getting done, which is just part of life I guess. The key is to not beat myself up for it. For me, part of this tension relates to the dreary winter season we are still in, (and thank goodness we are getting more sunlight day by day, because that helps ease the dread for me).
I heard this question posed on a podcast I frequently listen to: How am I treating my mind, body and soul as it relates to being in service to my goals? WOOF!
I can’t keep doing the “stuck” loop I’m doing and expect different results. (That’s the very definition of insanity for my recovery friends.)
Also, on my daily walks I’ve been asking myself, what is the thing that is invisible or that most people wouldn’t know is holding you back just by looking at you?
My answer to that question in this moment is sciatica.
For years, since before Camden was born, I’ve had this on and off struggle with my SI joints. Sometimes it’s completely manageable and gives me little to no trouble, other times it rears it’s ugly symptoms for a few days or a week then can go away for months at a time. Lately though, it’s been persistent and sometimes debilitating, it’s something that is holding me back from pursuing my goals. Maybe I’m getting too introspective, like how is this all connected, but I also think it’s trying to tell me something deeper. I’m doing some searching work with trusted friends and a mentor to gain some further understanding about my self and past patterns that I’d like to rewire in my ethos.
In the meantime I’ll keep walking, but noticing that just walks are not sufficient to keep the sciatica at bay have also started hiking once a week and trying to get in more Pilates, at least once a week as well. The hikes are especially rewarding at the moment. Millie and I head just a few miles out of town and I keep my snowshoes in the back of the car in the event the road or trail is snow packed. I’m so grateful to have easy access to wilderness, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t do it.
That’s what I mean if I don’t use it, I’ll lose it. Physically, it looks like strengthening my core (once again), doing the inside work to know myself better, flex the knowing muscles to develop newer ones and continue building on the foundation I worked so dang hard on for the last 15 years. Accepting that all of this work takes time and I am one hundred percent worth the investment. So how am I treating my mind, body and soul as it relates to being of service to my goals? Well, I have some pretty lofty goals on my horizon and am gradually working towards them. But I’m going to keep myself as the priority right alongside pursuing those goals so that I can show up as the best possible version of myself in my community and beyond.
Keep on climbing, can’t see the path now but more is always being revealed
BIG Caveat: I kept holding off on posting this after a week of several looks and edits. I tied it up with a bow at the end but things are messy and I’m I’m far from where I’d like to be. I went to the chiropractor last week and asked what is the emotional connection to this sciatic flare up. Because if our bodies really do keep the score, and when I’m not as connected to my feels, my physical body will start yelling to tell me that something or some things are not in alignment. The body/emotional connection that I’m experiencing has to do with not feeling supported. And it’s not an external support system that I am lacking, it’s my internal unhealed parts of me. Now that I have this awareness, I can actually move forward with gentle healing action. I liken it to the early days of my recovery work. I had to want to work through the pain instead of continuing down the path self destructive behavior that landed me a seat in those rooms. I had to stop blaming my upbringing or my past for my own actions as an adult woman. And I still have to do those things, but with a more inclusive stance recognizing that I abandoned some injured versions of myself along the way and now I’m looking back at them with deep compassion and empathy. I want their input, creativity, and skills to collaborate with the currently version of me as we do the things we dream of doing.
I realize this perhaps sounds absolutely ridiculous to some readers, and that is OK. It’s the best way I can make sense of my current state of being with the tools currently at my disposal. Nobody is going to do the work for me, I must show up for myself; past, present, and future versions. Maybe I’ll leave it at this. Whatever it is I am searching for at a deeper level (I as a collective we), let it begin with me. I (We) cannot pour from an empty cup. What will fill that cup will vary for all of us, but it must come from within. External forces can only suffice for a time and will not truly sustain.
Maybe I’m being a bit dramatic, but this month is just forever long. It’s still dark and it’s still cold, ALL. THE. TIME.
And it’s doing its number on me.
I had a bit of a breakdown earlier in the week with tears and ugly crying as a result of a podcast (amongst other recent soul work), jotted some things down and called my sponsor. I feel a lot better today, less anxious and more grounded.
I had enough clarity after all of that to finish getting the business registration paperwork filed. I have articles of incorporation and an EIN and I feel like I just summited one of many mountains on this next business journey. There’s been part of my brain that couldn’t fathom doing this work until I knew my dad’s situation was a little more solid (I’m STILL waiting on Medicaid to kick in here, 4 months and 3 attempts at applying later), it’s no wonder I’m adverse to any government agency/process. It’s all just so many broken systems one after the other. Perhaps the focus on my own thing was just what has been needed to ease my anxiety about the other thing. Let’s hope that proves to be the case.
I thought I’d have more profound things to say, but as the hard week unfolded news-wise my thoughts diminished. I’m just so sad that we are so sick a country that we STILL glorify guns and police abuse of power over actual human lives.
I’m powerless over these systems that are working exactly how they were designed. The part I can do is offer comfort and support to those who are suffering. I can keep being a voice of reason and hope. I can look around my tiny community and see more in common rather than other. And with that, I heal and hopefully that healing feeds into those whose lives intersect with ours.
The Writings of Breanne Mashek 