L'shana Tovah

There are still a few hours left in 5775, here is to wishing a Happy New Year 5776!

May this be a year of Peace, Love, Camaraderie, Healing, and Joy for all.

Though there may be blame to share, I ask forgiveness.

Though there may have been harm, I ask for healing. 

Though hearts may have hardened, I ask for love and compassion.

Though there may have been destruction, I ask for solidarity in building anew. 

Though there is War, I ask in humility for Peace.

שנה טובה l'

 

Serenity, Now

I'm trying to get in to have my mental health meds adjusted, but apparently my EAP service switched as of July 1st, so I'm back on a waiting list.
I need Xanax bad, and I've got barely two weeks left of my antidepressants.
I've noticed my Aspie tics are coming back hard, and I have no control over my compulsions.
I'm scared to see someone new and have to tell the whole story again. It fucking traumatizes me more every time I have to go into details with Psychs to explain.

But, I'm really not doing well. I'm going to work, and feeding/caring for the cats. Paying bills. Literally that is it. I'm barely doing laundry, my house is so bad I won't even let my father inside anymore, and I just don't fucking care at all about my appearance or clothing or shit. I'm barely eating even one whole meal each day.

I've outlived Wash. It'll be his birthday soon, and even sooner his Death anniversary.
I know I'm not doing well. I know I need my meds changed, probably increased, and I need way the fuck more Xanax, because I can't fucking cope.

I've outlived him. He did so much, and I've done fuckall. They keep trying to change my job too, so I barely feel like I'm even helping anyone anymore.
I'm just having trouble seeing the point of anything.
I don't have joy in anything anymore. It's all fucking pretend and a mask I wear, and it's exhausting to pretend to be "ok" all the damn time.

I'm not even hanging out with my neighbours much anymore.
Everything hurts. Everything.

It should have been me, not him.

It's all just a waste of time. A wait for time to pass. For nothing. He's not coming back.
I lost my husband, my family, my best friend, my future.

I feel like I am merely existing, a fucking shadow.
And I feel like no one wants to listen.
"It's been 3 years, Tashi...."
No. It was yesterday. It was last hour. It was one minute ago. It is always happening, over and over and over, never stopping the pain.

So, I haven't really been around much. That's why.

10.26.09

To everyone wishing me a good/happy birthday, my deepest gratitude and love to have so many people care.

5 years ago was the worst birthdate of my life, and I have no words for how thankful I am to have loving friends and family to lend support and love to me on a happy, but tragic day. 

Almost

For anyone who wishes to remember Wash tomorrow, on the second anniversary of his passing, I offer the following options in his memory:

 

*Do something-anything- nice or kind for a stranger. 

*Practice Random Acts of Kindness throughout the day

*Watch some Doctor Who. Wash was quite fond of number 10. 

*Watch "The Wedding of River Song"- this was the last thing Wash requested before his coma

*Watch any 'Firefly' episode or 'Serenity'

*Get started on the Battlestar Galactica reboot from a few years ago

*Read some Carl Sagan or Ann Druyan

*Watch "Cosmos"

*Go outside in the evening and just simply stargaze

*Build something- with Lego, with wood or metal or paper or digitally. Create.

*Play a game. Any game. Grab a friend or three and play

*Drink a pint (if you are of legal drinking age) 

*Write a short story

*Read a short story

*Watch or read anything written/directed/produced by Jane Espenson. Wash adored everything she ever worked on. 

*Volunteer at a hospital or Hospice home

*Donate to Gray Matters Foundation which supports brain cancer patients and their families

*Learn the warning signs of a brain tumor 

But really, above all, tomorrow I personally have a request.

Tomorrow, September 11th, tell the people you love and care about just that.

Tell them you love them. Remind that person, or people, that they are loved, and loved by you. 

Because with Wash gone, the world needs a little more love in it. 

Because you should never go a day without telling the ones you love that you love them. 

Because love can be lost- but like all Energy in our known universe- it cannot be destroyed. Love simply changes form, but it is never lost.

Please don't waste a day. 

And my Dear Faithful Readers- I love all of you as well. 

Numb

3 weeks to the Deathaversary.

I may have to take a big social and media break. I am just having too many flashbacks and hard emotions and PTSD symptoms coming and flaring up.

My Gaïus-Wash has been around more. I hear his voice and smell him when I wake. 

I am just trying to fake being normal right now and hide the pain that is making me seek whatever numbness I can find.

I need to update this site.

I need to see less photos of him, and more. I want to hear the stories of him from friends, even the ones I have heard before.

I need to know he is not forgotten. 

I need to have myself accept truly, he is for the ages now. He belongs to time and the universe, to no mortal being. 

He is both mine, and not. 

He is Stardust.

I cannot say "goodbye".

Allons-Y, Wash. 

Allons-Y, my Time Lord.

Still Alive

I am stuck at home with Asthmatic Complex Bronchitis right now.

So bored.

I want to be at work. Feeling useful. Like I contribute. 

I want to be helping all the people who need insurance right now.

It's what I do, and I get so much satisfaction from my work.

2 more months and I will have been there a year! 

The cats are fine, but being little buttheads and ignoring me whilst I am I'll and in pain.

Ok, not that much pain, but I would still like to pet one of my cats. They just want to eat and nap right now.

I've been doing fairly well as of late.

I made new local friends.

I am out socializing in a non-work capacity now about 3-5 nights a week. I see my family almost every Sunday for breakfast/brunch and some Sci-Fi TV show watching.

I am currently introducing my brother and father to the joys of Warehouse 13.

Overall, I am being compliant with my meds, have a job and routine schedule, get out of my home to socialize with others, gaming again, and repairing family ties.

I'm in a better place. I can say that.

I still have hard days. I had a PTSD trigger at work a couple weeks ago, and that left me a mess for days.

I don't think a day has gone by without a thought or a million of Wash.

I miss him. So many little things and details. I wish he was still here for all the new things going on; weddings, births, graduations, careers, friends buying homes or moving away. So many daily moments of things I just want to share with him.

But I am trying to think of myself now. Which is difficult.

I am trying to think about my own wants, desires, joys. My own future, career, life.

It is not easy, but I work on that daily. It helps to distract from the pain of his loss. That has never faded. I have only found ways to distract myself from it- my job is a wonderful salve. 

I just want to think he would be proud of me.

Lungs hurt too much, so I will continue later. 

Enjoy a photo of myself in a Bane (nebulizer) mask. 

It felt like I was a dragon with that on.

Cosmos

5 years ago today I was packing for our Vegas wedding and sitting in my living room with my intended, three witnesses, and our officiant going over our wedding paperwork.

My heart hurts not for love I have lost, but pain BECAUSE I have loved with all of my being. I gave myself to him, and he to me.

It was the hardest, most joyous, and deepest gift I could ever have given. 

It was worth the pain I feel now, for even the memories of the soul we shared.

I will share one more thing- the first book Wash ever loaned to me was his precious copy of Carl Sagan's "Cosmos".

Owning a copy myself, it was the gesture rather than the book itself that lent meaning.

He told me from the start, We are ALL made of stardust...

Countdown

Story Time, friends.

Back around Feb 2008 or so, my wonderful friend E. spent almost two straight months trying to introduce me to a guy. April comes around and I do meet him- and immediately assume he is not single.
A week later, she began to bug me- 'What do you think of him??'
After I learned he was in fact, free to date, I agreed on a dinner with him.

We had one date at the end of May 2008. Our dinner lasted 4 hours. We spent another two talking after that, and ended up falling asleep on his couch watching "Serenity".
I waited a full week before agreeing to another date.

We then proceeded to see each other almost every day throughout June and into July.
We decided to take a visit to IKEA at the end of July. He loved architecture, I always need bookshelves. We were holding hands, just enjoying each other's company.
It was then I spotted it- a gorgeous recessed sink on a small stand. I must have said something or made a 'WANT' sound, because he was asking me about it- where would I want it, the functionality, and more.
He said it would be good in OUR bathroom.
I replied I was not planning on living with anyone but my future spouse.
He said he knew that. He still thought it would look nice in our space.

We both held silence for a half minute. I recall I was the one who broke the silence with a pointed question," Wash , did we just get engaged at the IKEA?!"

Why, yes, yes we did. There was an official proposal a couple of weeks later, but our engagement began after about 6 or 7 weeks of dating. The "official" proposal was at our favourite Diner, and though he got to embarrass me there, as he had asked for an engagement ring himself, I got to get down on my knee as well before I placed the ring on his finger.

I honestly think I knew though, that first night, on our first proper date.
That man would be in my life for as long as I lived. He would be my husband, or my best friend, or both, but my life would not be complete without him.

That, my friends, is the start of my love story with Wash.

Too Little, Too Late

I was doing ok today. Not great, but not horrid.
I get home and sitting in my mailbox are two letters. Both from the same place, both unsolicited "junk" mail.
One was for me, one for Wash.
They were soliciting for Health Insurance.

"WASH- Did YOU know you can now be covered for health insurance through the Affordable Care Act aka ObamaCare? Well, you can! Give us money! ...."

And just... getting mail for him today was shitty. Most days it does not bother me at all anymore. Not today.
Especially getting THIS mail.

Only 5 years too late.

I tried going for a walk. I even ran into one of my Rabbis out with his baby daughter for a stroll as well. That helped distract me some. But.
Now my brain is stuck on the "what if" line of thoughts. And that is a very bad place for me to go down.

I am so mad at the world/universe/whatever right now. It all just hurts so badly, and I am just so fucking MAD.

I can't even have a good cry because my asthma is too shitty today to let me breathe in-between sobs.



I just want him back. I know it is impossible. Not improbable, but impossible. And that hurts.

02/14/05

Today is Aelphaba's 9th Birth(whelping)day.

With Wash gone, she is probably my Best Friend.

The last decade has been much better for me with her in it.

Zofran O'Clock

I have been ill with the norovirus this week.

I ended up being hospitalized overnight due to dehydration complications.

I made it all the way through 2013 with no hospital visits, and not even 1 week into the new year.

I think the last time I felt this physically awful was when my gallbladder melted inside me back in 2010.

Except this time I don't have Wash to comfort or help me.

Aelphie has been by my side pretty much constantly. Leto will come and sit at my feet while I am throwing up my guts.

That helps a little. I think they can tell/sense/smell I am not feeling well.

I hate missing work. I hate feeling like I am letting down my team.

I hate how alone being very ill makes me feel.

Being in that hospital bed, in that room all alone... it is scary. The meds they gave me helped, but, I still kept feeling and thinking how just not right it felt to not have Wash there with me. To have him holding my hand or even just to hear a voice that loved me telling me it will be OK.

It's not right. Not fair.

I know this. It is just harder to accept when I am sick and weak and longing to just be held; comforted.

Rationally I know if he were still here there would be issues. I would have to keep him safe and healthy and I likely wouldn't even hold his hand without a glove and mask on.

But.

...but.

I still want the comfort of my best friend. 

Every day I miss him. Every day I have things I want to say to him. To share. To do.

I feel miserable. 

½‚ Well, as of Wed or Thurs this week I will no longer be a temp contractor but a full time employee with benefits! Signed my contract today. I suppose wor

½‚ king 50 hour weeks helped but I think my work is valued over there. Go me. Career Woman here.

Mandatory Overtime.

At least I am keeping busy. Update to come soon.

Episode 27: A New Hope

So... all of time and space, everything that ever happened or ever will - where do you want to start?

Happy Birthday, Tashi.

One year of being The Girl Who Waits, gone. Onto the next.

Someday, to join your TimeLord.

5 Days

Tonight I am looking at photos.

Of Before.

Of us smiling.

How handsome he was, and how full of hope and innocence we were.

I can't really recognize that girl. It is like looking at someone related to me, but generations removed.

I have the video from the first birthday of mine we spent together. 5 years ago.

We went to a State park and had a pic-nik. Salads and sparking sodas, ginger beer. Fruits.

Big blankets we used to spread out under the canopy of trees. Tee shirts and shorts weather. Kisses. 

He gave me the first season of Burn Notice on DVD and a card I still have.

We took a nap together until it was time to drive home. I believe it was a Sunday and I was working the next day.

We had been engaged 3 months then. Only a few people knew. We had decided to tell our families at the holidays in November.

I laughed so much that day.

I went so many years of my life with terrible birthdays. I even just stopped celebrating at one point.

But he gave me such a happy one that day.

My handsome man. My beautiful boy. My future. I could tell him anything and he still said, "I love you, darlin'. I'm not running."

I felt safe. I felt strong. I felt like I was balanced and truly loved and completely, unconditionally accepted.

I felt that anything was possible. Every good thought I had never dared to let myself contemplate was suddenly perhaps obtainable. 

Anything and Everything was possible.

He was my TimeLord that day. He made time stop. In that afternoon he gave me an eternity of joy, happiness, and love. Not just the tv show.

He helped me forget the stress of moving twice in two months. The hardness of some days only seeing him after his classes ended and coming to bed. 

That day was autumn air and sun, and the shadows of the trees moving in the wind.

That day was ours. 

That day was mine. 

That day was his gift. A love token. A foretelling of the good before the world crashed and stopped and burned. 

That last happy birthday I ever had.

The last one without the shadow of death. Just the trees.

The last one I did not wonder if I would be sharing my next year with him.

Just those long and everlasting happy hours.

That is what I mourn over. That is what comes to mind with the tears. That is the warmth I want when all I can think is the cold terror of the next birthday. Where it was unknown if he would live to see the next day. When everything odd and disturbing clicked together with his illness but in a horrid realization of how close to losing him I was. That long, long birthday night of forms, scans, doctors whispering, and for the first time seeing the tumor that had grown in his brain, and was going to eventually kill him.

That day, I longed for something simple like a DVD set. That day I wanted the trees and nap together, not the sounds of the Neuro ICU.

I think I would go back to that day, if I could. I would spend forever there, with him. 

Just us and the laughter and hope. The happiness. The wind. The silence. Being the only two people around in that wilderness that day.

He gave me that happy day. What I never thought possible. 

What seems lifetimes ago.

Maybe someday, this Girl Who Waits will see that magic blue box. I will know where to go. When to go. 

All of Time and Space... yes, I know when.

I will hear his voice whisper back to me, "As you wish. My darlin'. As you wish."

Heart Dump

I am just having a real shitty day. I was able to mostly keep everything in check at work and I skipped a break just so I could stay distracted with paperwork but I am just feeling so gorram sad right now. And guilty. And sad. And lonely.

I miss my husband. I miss spending autumn days with him where we would go on walks. Before and after he got sick. I miss baking for someone else. I miss cuddling up to him at night. I miss walking in silence holding his hand. I miss his smell on a jacket he would let me borrow. I miss the changing of the season when he would grow out his beard and it was five different colours all blended on his face.

I miss hearing something besides my own thoughts in this house.

I don't know why I am alive. Why he died. Why he got sick. Why it was brain cancer. Why it wasn't me.

He was a better person in his 28 years than I will be if I live another 50. In 13 months I will have lived longer than he did. 

And my birthday is in two weeks. The day we found out it was brain cancer, and he was dying. 

My heart and my brain hurt so bad.

I just want a hug. I want his arms around me. I want to believe the lie I told him; that everything would be ok. Because it is not. He's gone but I am not. 

I just want him back.

Short & Sweet

Well, I made it through the security and background checks, and got the call last night from my temp agency.
I got the confirmation from HR early this morning.

I go back to work, full-time (albeit as an at-will contractor for now) on Monday.

I am on the road back to financial independence.

I will be helping people in the health-insurance industry.
Yeah, I know. But it is in a good way this time.

I am scared, nervous, and excited.

I want them to want me- to have a long steady job. This place could even help lead to a career- they love to promote from within the company.

I have a commute of about 10 mins on the light rail and another 10 walking from my home to the LR stop. No worries about traffic, or parking for me in this case- which for now I am happy about. A month long metro pass is about the cost of a month of car insurance for me- but no gas, or constant working on my 17 year old (non working right now) SUV.

I am working to get myself to a better place, in a lot of ways.

It is a lot, but I think knowing I am doing good for other people who need help, who need the medical side of their life to be easier, will make me happy(er?).
At the least, for about 9 hours a day I hope to not feel quite so sad, so depressed.


It helps to have goals.




I still miss him. In different ways.
But I am trying hard to expand myself instead of withdrawing from the world. It hurts and it is not easy, but I feel it is something I have to do.

Sorry, friends. My Internet has been down for a bit: I will update when I can find a place with free WiFi and can bring my notebook with me to fill everyone in.

All things go right, I should be working by mid-week! 

Potentials

Well, I have an interview today and another on Friday for some potential temp jobs.

Still waiting to hear back on any others.

I am putting in at least 5 job applications daily now. 

I am trying to stay as positive as I can and hope that something will come of all of this. 

Fingers crossed for me, friends.

Thank you to everyone who is donating, sharing my need, and trying to help me network or connect with a job.