Sometimes, it is vital to say out loud or to another person:
“I don't feel ok. I'm sad. I'm scared.” These seem like super obvious statements, yet they are hard, right? #vulnerability
At first, I was fine; I got my first positive test last week (round two with COVID-19). I had a sore throat Wednesday (1/17/2024); being on the other side is such a freaking gift.
A 2024 COVID diagnosis as a non-disabled youngish person "you" pretty much know you will live. A privileged space, ableism all up in my face, which I am contending with, and yet…many are dying.
Worldwide, when I started this blog
Six million nine hundred sixty-eight thousand seven hundred eighty-six had died of COVID-19.
As of this AM, hitting send on 1/19/2024:
6,970,995
I think of all of these humans gone.
Their families...the more compromised people in my community.
I think of one of my clients whose family member died due to COVID-19, and so any mention of the virus brings about deep grief.
I'm ok; I'll be ok; there are moments of "no big deal."
… but at times, it's super scary.
Just like the rest of the world (wars, the environment, capitalism).
I was alone during round two of COVID. Many, many, many people have survived this virus alone, and yet, I am a people person. There were some stark moments. However, there were needed moments filled with the grief of the world.
I want my partner here. She has a rare disease, so direct exposure is unsafe. Of course, all exposure to COVID-19 is unsafe, but she can’t come here.
I don't care for myself very well when I'm alone and yet I did all the necessary things: ate, showered, walked the dog, did laundry and dishes, and collapsed on the couch for 4 hours.
Part of my lesson as a parent is gaining the confidence to care for someone else. I can do it! The second part of that lesson, I care for myself more deeply when in a relationship with another adult human—codependent, interdependent, or a mix of both most likely.
I'm grasping.
Grasping at any one thing that will help me feel whole again.
I feel empty.
Full of TV.
Full of questions:
Why is the world this way?
Why is my brain this way?
Will you get scared and leave me? I got that one answered this AM, the answer is no dear readers. Hallelujah. My lover is not scared of my fear, a gift indeed.
That is the most basic question.
Will you leave me?
If you are my client, we talk about when you will leave; some of you don't like it, I understand. My previous therapist of eight years rarely spoke of me leaving, and when I did, I found myself. I am not saying the therapy was not amazing, important work, but the way I discovered my sexuality is through daily art practice, building magic wands, and building art journals. It was all after I left that talk therapy space, perhaps after I had sorted through the cognitive parts and the next step was the embodiment. The art pieces all feel like tiny houses I built. They sit in boxes now, but the benefit in me walks around the world (embodied).
I want to help you find your way with these tools. I told you a long time ago that this blog is now about expressive arts and not therapy. It's true, and sometimes my therapy clients (past or present are here) so I walk a fine line of disclosure.
Image ID, the author of this blog, lying sick with COVID in her bed. She wears a black sweatshirt and black-rimmed glasses. In the background you see a post on a four poster bed with many hats piled ontop.
How much is too much for us to share with our clients? My deep sense is I can hold these disclosures with clients and still be solid in working with you (them) in a deeply boundaried way. In general I wonder, if I ask too much, will you run away? If I ask you to buy my services, will you run away? If I give up on my art, will I be happy? I know that answer. I have to create to live.
So, I would love for you to share my socials, this blog, and especially my website with one friend today.
I hope to offer more workshops and more individual sessions teaching meditation and art-making (via coaching) this year. It's my BIG dream. That and finishing my memoir and turning those stories into the next "Big Chill" circa 1996. What a year it was.
All for now.
Love you, miss you, mean it.
A playlist for you that I made for my partner:
Follow my dear fellow traveler on the late-in-life
queer journey if you are looking for some support; sharing is caring:
Lastly, therapists, coaching, and other helpers check out this amazing space I have been so lucky to be a part of (click the link and share):
I am happy to be in dialogue about these thoughts and links.
Also, I would love to connect with more of you out there on the socials (I am mostly on Instagram here):
https://www.instagram.com/expressive_arts_work/