Anecdotes from therapy

There’s officially no hope for me.

My therapist recently explained that those who are happiest in life have this crazy amount of faith – faith that things will turn out okay, faith that not only is there a heaven but also that they and everyone they know/love are going there. When someone dear passes they’re fine with waiting out their remaining time on earth until they’re reunited, etc., etc. It’s not the minimum requirement mustard-seed type of faith, like it’s a faith in the form of virtual certainty. Continue reading

Lunch – do I tell her or not?

Written before lunch today:

At the end of last week, not even ten minutes after my anxiety attack had subsided (as much as my anxiety can subside), I received an email from my boss entitled “various stuff.” In the email my boss told me she’d like to do lunch to discuss some new, exciting software and also “catch up” as “she doesn’t see me very often these days.” Continue reading

And like that, he’s one

On Thursday Joel will turn one. Soon I’ll start cleaning the house in preparation for his party on Saturday. We’ll attempt to make Joel what will probably, at best, be a pathetic-yet-tasty version of a “Howie cake.” We’ll pick out Joel’s outfit, and I’ll stress about our still grassless yard and about whether we’re celebrating Joel’s birthday appropriately, because I don’t know, as I haven’t been to an event like this in ages, as I still don’t interact regularly with society. We’ll finalize our menu filled with Joel’s favorite foods… Pulled pork sandwiches, green beans, some other sides, watermelon, cantaloupe, perhaps fruits in all the colors, displayed (tritely) in the shape of a rainbow on a giant fruit platter, a subtle reminder of just how brutal our journey was to get him here. Continue reading

On baby showers

So I’ve been meaning to write on this subject, and I guess the time is now, because on Matthew’s 18 month birthday/death anniversary, I received a baby shower invitation in the mail, which was so fitting considering that my life has been like one giant (albeit dark) episode of Punk’d ever since he died, but it’s disappointing because I have yet to meet Ashton Kutcher (although his doppelganger works at our neighborhood St. Louis Bread Company, so we took a picture of him while he wasn’t looking), which is probably because he is busy with his new baby boy, born on November 30, Mark’s birthday. (See what I mean?) Continue reading

Squash moms have balls

This afternoon we ate at our local athletic club, and they were holding a squash tournament, so the restaurant was super crowded with middle school aged kids, all of whom had their heads buried in their cell phones, including the four kids sitting behind us, which resulted in one of their dads scolding them, “Could you put your fucking cell phones away?! No wonder you’ve been here for 40 minutes, and no one’s taken your order!” I was kind of appalled but not really, because I’m accustomed to the f-bomb, and it was sort of nostalgic, as it’s something I could envision my dad saying to me. Continue reading

Conversations I don’t want to have with people I don’t want to talk to

I don’t want to be asked about how my big house feels with three people living in it now. It feels pretty fucking awful and awesome at the same time. Because there should be four of us living in it, though we’re still lucky to have the three of us, living and healthy, I suppose. But really, you don’t want to stop for long enough to hear me out with my complicated answer, so I’ll just continue to stare at you blankly while you assume everything’s great. Continue reading