April Showers

I skipped Christmas last year. The first one without Enzo. Our cruise allowed me to pretend it wasn't happening. And damn, I did just that.  No presents. No decorations at all. Just plan for a cruise, go on a cruise, enjoy a cruise. When it was over, I thought "that wasn't too bad." I didn't realize I just blew right past it, ignoring it. I skipped Christmas last year, and I'm paying for it in abundance this year. 

I have no poetic resolution. I hate resolutions. I've never done them and never will. I know April better than that, to think I will make a whole year with one new habit just because the sun finished a rotation. Gag. Even deep in my Evangelical days, I never did it. I certaintly would fake it when the youth pastor wanted us to write down our goals or give a list of how we would do better as a Christian "this year." Bullshit. It was all bullshit.  Even as I wrote it down or even worse *told people* I knew it wouldn't stick, so I never felt bad when I didn't succeed. No goal, no disappointment, right?  I ain't gonna stop masterbating or thinking about sex. God and I both know that. I won't read my Bible more. I won't stop rolling my eyes at my mom or cussing her out quietly in the closet after being told how less I am. I won't have a longer prayer time, or hell, a prayer time at all. That's not changing so I will not lie to myself and say it will...

For anyone that may need it:  This post has a trigger warning.I think all my blog entries probably need that, though. 💜 I had no idea what Ketamin is, then I saw yesterday where Matthew Perry died from acute effects of K.  It is referred to as a “dissociative anesthetic hallucinogen” because it makes patients feel detached from their pain and environment. He wasn't ok or sober, he was purposely dissociating. To cope.  I can't imagine the agony he must've felt to do this. I experienced severe dissociation after Enzo died. Weeks of missing conversations. Time after time of "how did I get here?"  I forgot how to get home more times than I can count. I forgot my dogs' names. One time, I was shocked to realize that for about 4 seconds I was looking for Keirsey's pacifier. I heard a very loud, audible voice yell my name one night. I was half way across the room thinking Brad needed me when he asked me from the bed "what are you doing?"  No one yelled...