Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Being human in an alien world

Shit is about to get real and personal.

The move is over, things have settled, and I still have absolutely no motivation to unpack.  Showers are infrequent, meals are infrequent and rarely appropriate (example, I had an entire jar of almond butter spread out between breakfast and lunch), socialization is nonexistent.  After I washed bedding, I crawled into bed.  At 3:40 pm.  I think I was in denial, because it wasn't until yesterday that I realized "holy shit, I'm depressed.".

As if reacting to NailKale the way I did wasn't obvious enough.

I go through this after every move.  They call it adjustment disorder, and I think it effects everyone to some degree.  This time is particularly bad because I'm alone with myself, my diseases (as though they're separate entities), and my wonderful husband is already testing my trust.  It's not something I'll get into, but it's worth mentioning that it took me over a year to learn to trust him again after the last set of indiscretions that almost found us parting ways permanently.

I'm having difficulty finding value in myself.  Like I'm a thing, rather than a who.

I'm no more than a place holder at my current location.  I'm here to ensure that South Carolina won't be able to snatch him up again when he returns from South Korea.  I'm here to make house and find things for us to do when he gets back.  I'm here to makes friends for him, so he'll know people shortly after returning.  I'm here to make sure his house in South Carolina gets sold, and that he has enough funds to enjoy his time in Korea, while I punish myself for not sticking to a budget by removing basic necessities from my expenditures.  I'm here to sacrifice everything I can in order to be an awesome wife, and live a quality of life I feel I deserve.  I won't complain about anything I have or don't have, because it could be worse.  I won't disclose how exhausted I am from simply being awake.  I won't complain about the pain in my guts that grows worse every day (welcome back, Crohn's, you stress loving asshole).  I won't tell him I wish whatever it is that keeps me fighting would just go away so I can finally give up and have peace.  I won't be upset that he never seems to ask how I'm doing, how I'm feeling, or what I've been up to.  It doesn't mean he doesn't care.

I will ask him how his day/week/weekend was.  I will be genuinely interested in his activities.  I will smile when I Skype with him.  I will talk about only positive things, and how glad I am that I have this opportunity to be in an area with more recreation, and most importantly, better healthcare.  I will remind him often how grateful I am for him and all that he provides.  I will practice everything in this last paragraph until I believe it.  If I never believe it, the crisis will perpetuate until I'm ultimately forced to go back on medication that makes me numb to everything so I don't have the option of reacting.  All of this when the simple fix is to remove myself from the situation.  Why thrive when you can be a martyr?

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Pardon me, kale belongs on a plate. Not in a f*cking bottle of nail polish.



Sephora sends me spam at least once a week, and I always feel inclined to read the ads within just to see what sort of bogus, overpriced shit they're touting as the next new age reversal miracle.  



"It's here. NailKale."


Wait, what?


What it is:


A limited-edition nail polish that’s infused with kale extract, known for its high levels of Vitamins A, C, and 

K, which stimulates advanced keratin production - hydrating and nourishing nails. 

Uhhh...?


What it does:
Created with Nails Inc’s patented Regenerating Complex - a blend of aldehyde, zinc, and calcium - this 
high-performance, high-gloss polish boosts the production of keratin for harder, healthier nails. As nails are 
primarily made of keratin, kale’s powerful antioxidant ingredients work to maximize the activation of keratin, 
resulting in nail growth and strength. Featuring a powerful resin complex, a UV filter, and a patented 
plasticizer, this formula leaves nails catwalk-inspired, chip-resistant, and healthy. 

Okay.  Fuck you, nail Inc.  That's stupid.  I don't know why this makes me so angry but it does.  


Maybe it's that I dropped two dopamine agonist drugs within one week of each other so I'm sitting at zero and every little thing puts me over the edge.  But either way, 
KALE IN NAIL POLISH, go fuck yourself!

Love, Kara

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Moved in and playing Jenga with boxes

We met our deadline with only hours to spare before I had to drop Mr. Stinkbutt off at the airport for his departure to Korea.  The whole month of July was non-stop packing, tying up loose ends, collecting paperwork, and making multiple trips between South Carolina and Maryland with all of our stuff.  Add to that a ten day stretch with my Mother in-law, who broke her back helping us get the old house ready to go on the market, and what you have is a very emotionally and physically exhausted Kara.

Everyone took off Monday morning, leaving me to catch up on some much needed sleep.  It's so quiet, and while I'm enjoying every second of it, I know it will get old soon.  I'm not going to be overly ambitious with unpacking, since I do have an entire year to make the new home go from a disaster area to a livable space.  The kitchen was the first thing to be unpacked almost immediately upon arrival.  I'm still living out of a suitcase, and ya know what? It doesn't bother me one bit.

I do intend to participate in Vegan MoFo again this year as a way to introduce myself to DC and the surrounding areas, and keep my mind occupied once reality sets in that I won't be seeing my significant other for over a year.  The relief of no longer having to care for a home and yard is a huge bonus.  My current project is to find the 'perfect' rescue pup, or possibly volunteer at the animal shelter, if not both.

Friday, June 20, 2014

Sometimes the only way around becoming crazy is to act crazy

I am nose deep in moving preparation, even though there is a TINY (is it contradictory to post an adjective for 'small' in caps?  I hope so.) chance things may not go through.  This has been the story of my life for the past eight years.  Hurry up and wait, and when you become comfortable waiting, we'll give you three days to do everything that should have been spread out over six months.  Thanks, government dudes!  The biggest current problem is allotting the funds for the move, which we plan to do on our own - no contracting movers, aka taking the easy way out, this time.  So much of my life is dictated by the right piece of paper with the right signature.  My body started falling apart before my delicate sense of sanity started to unravel, so we'll say that my mind is a little more resilient when it comes to stress.

I've started stockpiling easy foods, since I assume when July rolls around, I won't have a kitchen, or even a home, for about a month.  I just need access to a microwave, or a spoon at the very least.  Dr. Mcdougall's prepackaged junk to the rescue!

Self-portrait in split pea-soy curl minor
If there is anything that life has taught me, it's that when I take things too seriously, I end up with a migraine and a need for lots of TP.  Instead, I do what I do best - act goofy and completely ridiculous.  It eases my stress, and lightens the mood for those around me.  It may not be the best philosophy during a funeral, but no one criticized me for it (RIP, Grandma).  Laughter is the only thing that keeps us out of the mental institution. Until it turns maniacal.

One quick question for any folks wasting time reading this - what do you do to manage stress during particularly challenging times?