and carry on.

I’m here to say goodbye
no spell or prayer you try
will bring me back to life
(don’t follow me, follow me)

I got re-hit with a song yesterday. That’s a universal experience, right? That thing where some major life event occurs and then you listen to an old favorite song and it hits you in a totally different way based on your new frame of reference? I was downstairs in the gym, powering through an evening chest and tri workout, blasting metal on my speakers, when Falling In Reverse - Carry On hit my shuffle. Next thing I know I’m full blown sobbing over the treadmill. Ever seen a grown-ass man with tears running down his face finishing up a couple sets of dumbbell skull-crushers with metal blaring around him? Yeah. That happened.

This whole experience, in a certain light, is kind of fascinating. Like, it’s awful, and it somehow hurts enough emotionally that I’m physically uncomfortable as well, but what causes that? Like, was all that sadness just right beneath the surface, waiting to burst forth, even though I felt fine before the song came on? Did the song create that sadness somehow, or just poke it with a needle and it burst? Was it really the song, or would I have found something shortly after to burst it one way or the other? If I could remove the humanity and the pain from it, the whole thing is really interesting. Unfortunately, I can’t do that, so unilateral crying incline dumbbell skull crushers it is.

Health is still kinda garbage, but I’m starting to feel like that’s my fault. I’ve felt like a borderline hypochondriac lately, with every ache or pain or bump that lasts more than a few hours becoming the latest existential threat to my very existence. I start to try and weave it into the tangled mess of everything else I’ve been through lately to come up with some sort of explanation as to what it could all mean. What happened to “eh, it’s probably fine” me? I mean, ok, stupid question, I had some very real health scares earlier this year, both of which could have killed me had I waited to react. Knowing that I DID wait too long to react to the first one and just sort of accidentally rolled the life or death dice got to me for sure. But if there’s one thing that the whole Vally situation taught me, it’s… actually this feels like a paragraph break hold on.

Ok better. I was having a long conversation about this with Fit Brunette the other day. She is very similar with her dog Gunner as I was with Vally - a little obsessive, ultra protective, and constantly nervous about the end that’s coming. But it occurred to me the other day that, for all of my vet appointments, for all the bump biopsies and diagnostics , for all of the ER trips we made in the final couple of days, there was nothing I could have done to keep her heart from bleeding. Eh, let me rephrase - there was nothing anyone could have known to do that would have kept her heart from bleeding. It was likely going to happen sooner or later, and all the worry wasn’t gonna fix it. So what on earth did all the worry accomplish? I could have controlled the obvious stuff, keeping her on a leash to prevent her getting into the road and keeping anything potentially poisonous out of reach, with a third of the worry. It seems to me that there’s a happy medium somewhere between “paranoid about everything” and “ignoring glaring problems”. I used to ignore problems with myself and be paranoid about everything with Vally. Now I’m paranoid about everything with myself. I need to find that proper balance. Cautious when problems arise but confident enough in myself to recognize them that I don't have to constantly watch for problems. Hopefully Fit Brunette can do so with Gunner as well.

So look me in my eyes
sing me lullabies
hold me ‘til it’s time
(don’t follow me, follow me)

Home project updates - the water heater continues to not flood my basement. A+ job. I managed to replace the sticking garbage disposal with a much nicer one over the weekend and, again, didn’t flood my place in the process. I didn’t even watch youtube videos for that one, just figured out how to remove the old one and then reversed the process for the new. That hubris will bite me sooner or later, but this time it worked out. The siding guys got their shit done last week and the front of the house looks so much better without the peeling paint. There was a minor hiccup in the process when an unmasked El Salvadorian man knocked on the door, asked if he could use my restroom, and then took 20 minutes in there. I knew I was in trouble when he took two steps inside, looked concerned, and asked if there was a bathroom in the basement. Eesh. I sat in the far corner of the house with my laptop and all the windows open for the following 2-3 hours, freezing but hoping the airflow would carry the smell and/or COVID outdoors. Oh well. It’s been about a week, I can still smell my morning coffee, so as long as I don’t run into symptoms by next Monday I should be fine. Annnd the chimney guys are coming out next week to fix the crown on my chimney. I’m also paying them to brick up the old wall AC unit installed in the corner of the music room. The one that’s placed right above the HVAC units outside, so when heating the fans blow the extracted cold straight up and straight back into the house through that AC unit. Brilliant. Whoever did the work on my house originally deserves a god damned trophy.

I wound up going to that brewery last week with cute-nerdy teacher. It was much more crowded than expected for a Wednesday evening, but still pretty empty. I felt weird about it, but found a table in the corner with a good 15-20 feet between us and the nearest group, and it happened to be next to a slightly opened window, so hopefully it was ok. The hangout went really well. Good conversation, cute girl, lots of similar interests and stories. I also got strong submissive vibes, which, I don’t know when I developed the subconscious ability to tell when a girl is either a submissive or curious about trying it, but they were sounding loud and clear (I’ve since confirmed my suspicions). So that’s a nice alignment as well. We had a good time, were the last two in the place, and probably would have kept chatting in the parking lot for longer had it not been frigid out. We met up at the C&O canal on Saturday and just walked a ways along the river, chatting. Again, went real well, despite the way more than expected number of people out walking. Pony rides? Does the scenic C&O Canal Towpath really need pony rides? Anyway. Still chatting, I’ll likely revert inward just a bit with post-christmas COVID surge in full swing and this new strain getting out and about, but that has potential to go places in the future.

I also started chatting with this petite vet in the area. She has several Icelandic Sheepdogs, and, you know how I said no dog would ever be as beautiful as my Valentine? Well, I stand by it, but these critters definitely gave me a moment’s hesitation. They are stunning spitzy foxy stunners and I haven’t met them but I love them. The girl seems pretty cool too. Introverted, active, outdoorsy, hands-on hard work around her house. Also being cautious with all the pandemic and such, but at minimum it’s another like minded person to chat with this winter and get out and do things with once things are open again. More good people around me is what I was hoping for in 2020. Maybe by the end of 2021 I can make it a reality.

Gravity don’t mean that much to me
Now I’m floating near the atmosphere
no shackles on my feet
And I know I may be already gone
just promise you’ll stay strong
and carry on.

In all my weepy sadness yesterday, trying to take a post-workout shower, my voice breaking as I was trying to sing the song to myself until my head was back in my hands for the third or fourth time, a scene from South Park popped into mind and stuck there. I hadn’t seen the episode in years, but I could distinctly hear Butters’s voice in my head talking about how he’s sad and that’s ok. I went back and found that scene, and it’s perfect. It’s exactly what I needed. It reframed this entire situation and all my crying in a way that it now feels like a badge of honor. I’m so lucky to have had a little furry companion that meant so much to me and fit so seamlessly into every aspect of my life. The prevailing sadness and enormous feeling of loss is a testament to just how good of a thing Vally and I had together. I don’t expect I’ll ever find something that special again, but I’m so lucky to have found it at all. I just hope everyone gets to experience that once.

I promise I’ll stay strong and carry on.

-M