vulnerability independence baby dinosaurs. Welcome.

I'm sure i'll go back to my calloused dragon scales soon where I start taking things for granted. Right now I'm a shiny new pink baby dinosaur phoenix rising from the ashes of my surgery. I'm still excited I can take a walk around the block. I am that person looking up at the sky saying, "oh hello birdy!". Yesterday a guy caught me full on talking to myself by Blue Bird Bistro. "Welcome!" is what I told him. Wait, welcome to what? That was weird, Nan. He also thought it was weird cause he looked down and sprinted away.

Ah here we are now at the track treadmill of daily life and the worries that find me there....here's a recurring (or chronic?) list that is already lining up in my brain queue.

TREADMILL CHRONIC WORRIES:
"Money baby! I need more. hmm what about rent next month?!"
"Will I ever be in a relationship again and do I even want to be? I don't have time."
"I like being by myself. Am I isolating too much or am I actually healthy right now, learning to be with myself?"
"What if my car breaks down?"
"My cat seems sleepy. Is that normal cat behavior or is something wrong?"
"Are other people as needy as me?"
"You're not PJ Harvey. Why didn't you learn guitar when you had the chance? It's not like you didn't have time."
"Why did it take you so long to feel good about yourself? You're old now!"
"Did I turn off the oven?" (when i've checked it a couple times already. ok this one hasn't gotten out of control yet but i'm watching it.....doesn’t take a supersleuth to see I have anxiety)

The need for reassurance. The mean voice in my head. Oh they're still there. I call them Big Lou and Carla. Which are what i've also named two of my incisions from my surgery. Big Lou is on the left side of my abdomen. He was a real pain for a couple days post-op. Now he’s quieter but he looks like Marlon Brando in The Godfather which is disconcerting. Carla is the “right above the belly button” incision. She has a high-pitched voice that yelps when my pants are tight but mostly she enjoys reading and resting.

I was so happy to be alive after a surgery I never thought I'd have, and having experienced more physical pain than I ever had.....that I was on a euphoric high for a few days. Was I also high on pain meds? A little, but not the whole time. For one thing when I was on them I couldn't focus or write. I didn't love that. Tylenol and the muscle relaxants helped me more. In case you were wondering about the drugs.

But back to the euphoric couple days post-op...a few walls got torn down. A few defensive layers. I had to ask some people for help. With rides. With taking out trash. With picking up heavy grocery bags (not allowed to lift more than 5lbs for 4 weeks!) I think this was good for me to ask for help- even though I was scared every time (big thanks to Dawn, Justin, Tracy, and Matt. And Julia for hosting a xmas dinner!)

I've really tried the past few years to be more independent. I've tried not to ask for as much help, have tried to figure stuff out on my own. This is a good thing….I think a balance exists though which i’m trying to sort out. How can someone be both pridefully independent and also needy? I am the person who wants to be loved but will pretend I don't need you! I'm like Steve Martin in The Jerk: "I don't need you....all I need is this chair.....and this cup....and this remote control" and stalling leaving the house making sure you're watching me leave, waiting for you to stop me.

Well. Was I raised by neglectful wolves? Maybe. But for real... I am estranged from one side of my family (aka Mother ISSUES - abandonment/attachment trauma. And Stepfather issues. And Father stuff too. But the Mother stuff is the Big Fish). This is another blog which I want to write but am not quite ready to write. Baby dinosaur steps.

So anyway, I learned "some" life things growing up, but am really a late bloomer. And having been in a relationship for so long was a little bit of a buffer. This makes me laugh now but the first weekend after Matt and I separated and I was living in Northeast KC (with the talented lovelies Charlie and Chico) I had a stomach bug and blocked up the toilet. With poop. Yep, shit was rising. I panicked. What if the water kept rising and flooded the house and my room smelled like poop for days? I called a friend who came over to help with a “snake”. When he said snake I actually thought for one second, “A real snake?” haha no. (Thanks kevin). And then Chico came home and said "No big deal" and fixed it in 3 seconds.
But I felt like I had failed a test. Some kind of adult “capable person” test. In my forties.

I didn't know how to fucking plunge a toilet.
Instead I cried and ran out of the house.

Oh memories. I did finally learn how to plunge a toilet. And I've learned other things the past few years. How to get a car. How to register that car. How to register that car in Missouri. (This is hard. It might be easier to move to Canada). How to drive a car in the snow. How to get a small loan so I could afford to move. How to move into my own apartment. How to ask for help when moving. Learning to just be more responsible for myself. Deal with as much as I could on my own. Financially, emotionally, physically, etc. Like people do!
I’m not unique, just maybe late to the party. Surprising cause I’m a Virgo and I pride myself in being “on time or early” to events.

Life stuff is different when you have a partner....you both help in different ways with things that need fixing or doing. Maybe it didn't stress me out as much when I was with Matt cause I had someone right there to whine to and ask for help. And it is very different living in the midwest from NYC, and that was a whole adjustment. I had a phobia about driving when we moved here so the fact that we toured for several years and that I drive on the regular now is a marvel and I just feel like you should applaud when I pull into your driveway. Maybe play Queen’s “We are the Champions”. But Truth Check Turner: Was I always wary and skiddish of any home repairs and "diy building anything" and car things and bills and working jobs and filling out forms and scared of heights and scared of flying and of figuring out insurance and any kind of change? YES. ABSOLUTELY. Do I mostly just want to be creative and have fun with my friends as much as possible? YES. ABSOLUTELY. I'm still keeping that desire at the forefront cause it really does make me happy. But Life stuff? Okay, fine. I just stomped my dinosaur foot.

My therapist who died last year would often tell me I was doing well. That I had grown in our 3 years together. That I was resilient. And strong. That I could do things. I still hear her voice sometimes telling me that. I know it's true.I wish she was here. I think she'd be proud of me.

I was in that ER by myself. Not that that is an accomplishment per se....would I have liked 10 friends around me singing songs, and giving me lots of attention? YES. OF COURSE. But it was ok. That's the weird thing. A few years ago this would've been on my "worst case scenario" list. I would've cried that I was alone and thought this was the end. (Truth Check Turner: I cry a lot so this isn’t unusual. I may cry after I post this blog. Which is cool and releasing of toxins, man. Maybe I’ll treat myself to a cinnamon roll too). But something else emerged alongside my dying crusty dinosaur appendix......and not just gas. It was a tiny belief that I would be okay. A trust, maybe? An acceptance of uncertainty in that moment? I tried to breathe (which was easier on pain med). I asked for what I needed. Or yelled for what I needed. “Tell me what you’re gonna do before you do it!” and “Can I have more Pain Med? Stat!?!” I watched myself outside of myself laugh with the nurses and then say, "I"m fucking scared but I want you to take this appendix outta me. Yes I’m dead serious. Or I will be dead if you don’t do it."
A little bit of ridiculous in the most serious of places.
Thank you old crusty dinosaur dragon self and thank you raw baby dinosaur self.
I'm Thankful I’m here. I’m Thankful for my friends. And I’m thankful I get to go walk around the block again and scare the neighborhood.
Happy New Year my Unicorns. Here’s to learning stuff old and new and backwards. WELCOME!

This is a lil present from Danielle Anderson. She sewed a cig and a landline on this pair of gloves to inspire more characters from my series “Cigs and Landlines”!! And she crafted a felt appendix so I can never forget. Thank you Danielle! Meet “Appy”. Appy is so cute now that it’s OUTTA ME.