heavy
i am feeling the weight on my shoulders. it’s not visible, nor can it be taken off of me and placed on to someone else. but it’s heavy. and it’s beginning to weigh me down.
the anticipation of september has arrived early for me this year, for what reason i do not know. but i hate it and its weight.
i hate the entire month of september and wish it were permanently wiped off the calendar.
it’s not usually until the last few days of august that i start to feel the weight; the shoulders tense up, the anxiety, the shortness of breath, the desire to stay indoors and hibernate. insomnia sets in as my mind races and recalls.
for some reason, this has already begun.
the heavy has hit.
my grandfather died 17 years ago in september. not a day goes by still that i don’t think of him. jackson’s middle name is Ray because of this wonderful man who died september 8, 1992. a picture of poppy reading to me as a child sits on jackson’s bookshelf in honor of my grandfather, my son’s namesake. and i see it every day. i smile at it every day. i miss him every day.
and then there’s the terrorist attacks our country endured on september 11, 2001. while i consider myself lucky enough to not have lost a loved one on that particular day, the date will always resonate in my mind. i will think of those who did lose loved ones on that day, because of those attacks; and my heart will ache for them. my husband serves in the military, and with that comes a constant anxiety that he can be called away at a moment’s notice should he be needed.
i was raped on september 26, 2000. though i have gained such strength in sharing my story and purging myself of the shame i have felt for the last 9 years… that date will always be ugly to me. unveiling that part of who i am, the survivor within me, answering questions from readers, and truly owning what happened to me has been a good thing. the PTSD i still suffer from especially during the month of september, is not.
i don’t want the heavy to come yet. i’m not ready. but it’s here… weighing me down like a cold, wet blanket.
wake me up when september ends
conversations in the shower
the following conversation took place in our bathroom this morning. i was blow-drying my hair, paul was in the shower…
me: so i’m thinking of doing this week’s “wine of the week” as a beer cuz of the yummy dessert beer we had the other night.
paul: uh huh… (tone is entirely uninterested in what i have to say)
me: but i feel like i’m betraying my own kind, ya know, going from wine to beer…
paul: well, not really because your site is “My Bottle’s Up!” but you don’t specify which bottle. (tone sounds slightly more interested cuz now we’re talking his territory… BEER.)
me: yeah, but this would be in my “wine of the week” section, like the sidebar, with all the other wines i’ve posted about. i just feel bad, ya know?
paul: there is beer that is called wine… seriously, it’s called “barley wine” and it’s a type of beer.
i stop my hair-dryer, roll my eyes dramatically at him since he can’t see me through the shower curtain and think to myself “ok smart-ass.”
me: ok, so how about we do this instead… i’ll just write a post about the yummy dessert beer. you can write it with me. it’ll be fun.
paul: it’s not “yummy dessert beer,” it’s “stone imperial russian stout.”
(as if i should know this, like been taught it when i was taught my times tables in 3rd grade.)
paul: for the record, good beer is not something you buy in a case, or has the word “light” in it.
me: uh… ok, so about the post…
paul: i’ll have to do my research and we can work on it while we drink the stone imperial russian stout tonight.
me: that works.
******
so take a looksie to the right, scroll on down, and check out this week’s “wine” of the week…
3 o’clock wall
it’s 3:12 pm and once again, i have hit my wall. this happens every day. same time. day in. day out. “the afternoon lull,” as some people call it. and for me, it means that i am in dire need of caffeine.
at first i thought it was an addiction. something that i should consider kicking the habit of, or giving up for lent. but when paul and i discussed what we were going to give up for lent, he told me, “for the sake of all of us, i don’t think you should give up coffee.”
it should be noted that paul and i each chose something to “give up” for lent and have since given up on giving up those things.
starbucks has been good to me. and i’m a fan. my triple grande, nonfat, no whip, white chocolate mocha is a tasty treat that i always have to fall back on. they’re even expanding their repetoire with new breakfast items. but i am finding the charm of local coffee houses and eateries here in good ol’ nap-town, and in doing so, i have stumbled upon bb bistro here in west annapolis.
being that paul is in the navy, and the navy dictates where we live, paul and i have made it a point to really scope out all areas of a new city before committing to a desired location. when we were in jacksonville, this meant contacting old navy friends to inquire about surrounding areas, and eventually settling in to a quaint historic district within jacksonville.
ah, riverside… the hippies, the homeless, the parks, the bars, the folio. and of course, the coffee. cool moose cafe made my life during jackson’s first few months. back then, it wasn’t a 3 o’clock wall that i would hit each day. the wall was in my face all day long and unrelenting.
needless to say, i have been in search here in annapolis. in search of a place to call my own as i wander about in “no (wo)man’s land,” still unaware of my surroundings and looking for a good cup of joe (possibly a scrumptious snack to go with), i find bb bistro. a shiny beacon of hope, reviving me to get through the rest of my day, one iced vanilla latte at a time.
gotta throw jackson in the stroller and run… they close at 4.
Have a Sip
