Brandished Backsides

“IT'S NEVER TOO LATE TO BE WHO YOU WANT TO BE” is scrawled across the paved path, so large that it's difficult to read the whole message from one vantage point. Instead I find myself reading the last few words at the bottom, then the first few at the top as I walk by, and mentally rearranging them to assemble the meaning.

“THINK OF WHAT YOU WISH SOMEONE WOULD SAY AND SAY IT.”

It's all multicolored chalk on the path through the park downtown. The messages have continued for about the last quarter mile or so. All of them ring of the first draft of those soulless cliche motivational posters that adorn countless bleak beige office buildings around the country.

“DON'T JUST LOOK FOR THE HELPERS, BE ONE”

I wonder where these come from. Some well meaning kids looking to change the world? A few missionaries trying to spread some good word or another? Do the girl scouts give a badge out for motivating the general publ…

I stop in my tracks and look down in front of me. A puzzled expression. And then, a few moments later, I'm giggling. Hard. Harder than is socially acceptible for a guy walking by himself next to a playground. I can't help it. I pull out my phone and take a picture, all while trying to stifle the laughter from this multicolor chalk sidewalk message.

“SHIVA'S DANCE CREATES AND DESTROYS”

To whoever added this gem amidst the rest, thank you. I've been giggling to myself over it ever since.

————

The weather is coming back around. My mood and health seem to be coming back around with it. Starting to move a little more again. Food cravings are down. The extreme keto, once again, did jack shit for me this season, so I've switched over to a general low carb, no wheats grains or sugars, low calorie plan. That seems to be working better. No all at once miracles happening, but the winter weight is starting to come off and I'm feeling a little better.

It is honestly really bizarre that the keto didn't do a damn thing. I had carbs under 25g a day and felt no effects. No weight loss, no boosted energy, I didn't even get that awful “keto flu” that happens when you starve your brain of it's preferred fuel source for the first week while your body revs ketosis into gear. All these things happened consistently for years whenever I took the steps to trigger them. 4-8 lbs off per week for the first month was not unusual. What the hell happened? What's changed?

On a whim, I've been doing some reading up on gut microbiomes and that seems a pretty logical suspect. I don't know how the stress of losing Vally would have triggered it so abruptly, but it sure would explain my lack of appetite for over a year, my trouble feeling normal when eating, and the inability of doctors to find any concrete cause.

So I'm working through some possibilities. Read a book on it. Drinking kefir and kombucha instead of all the fake sugar sweetened drinks that were so normal for me for years. Feeling a little better, but then that's what happened last spring too. Will keep trying things and see what sticks.

I've got another ultrasound on Monday, and there's a lot riding on this one. Like, almost a decade of doctors telling me that problems are all in my head and me desperately trying to believe them. It's the third in a series of appointments trying to address some shit that I've been dodging and having nightmares about and dodging and having nightmares about for years. Which makes me wonder, what are the potential outcomes here? Maybe I find the doctors are right, and I'm imagining things, and symptoms are just the work of an ill mind playing tricks on me. Or maybe I find that I've been right this whole time, and I wasn’t imagining it, and the doctors have been gaslighting me into believing that there's something wrong with me mentally all this time. Maybe some of what feels like mental struggles have come from doctors convincing me that they're there and causing issues?

Are either of these outcomes good?

I don't know. Being intentionally vague because I'm not comfortable with this one. But I'll be glad to get it out of the way, if only just to know for sure one way or the other and to stop always carrying it in the back of my mind.

Strawberries are coming back. Picked the first ripe one today, and lots more are forming. I quit keto just in time.

Burned most of my R&D budget last week on a new PC build. $4000 on parts, and that didn't even include labor as I'm building it myself. It is a hulking menace of a computer and no system requirements shall stand between me and ultra setting graphics in VR games anymore. At least, not for another couple years yet.

Just as exciting is the residual hand-me-down of computer parts. The old VR machine now becomes my dev box, with all the video editing tools and such. I'm even installing Unreal Engine to try out some VR development finally. It's a massive upgrade for that box. Then, not wanting to waste the old dev machine's parts, I built a small form factor PC to go into the arcade cabinet downstairs and run emulated games. The machine I had down there struggled with PS1 games. This new box should be able to tackle PS2 and WiiU emulation without an issue. And I dropped a 14TB hard drive in there to fill with games. It'll be fun having every game released, from arcade cabinets to the original Atari to Sega Genesis to PlayStation 2 to WiiU, all on one machine.

Don't think I'll ever actually play any of them, if I'm honest. But it's more the principle of the thing. Preservation.

Doing a lot of thinking about Vally again lately. I guess because the walks have started up again and walks were our thing. I've definitely come to appreciate the tattoos I got more and more. It was in a previous one of these stream of consciousness rants that I stumbled upon the idea that the tats are a way of carrying her on my skin, and that has become increasingly clear to me. I think I spent the first year after she passed in a state of shock, clinging to the thoughts and the memories and the sadness as if they, and she, would forever slip through my fingers if I wasn’t vigilant. Having her inked on me gives me a bit more room to let go mentally. To move on. It's the same mechanism as creating a to do list of all the chores you had been trying to remember. Once you get them written down you can release them from front-of-mind status knowing they're there to jog your memory later.

It's a silly little trick, but a powerful one. It actually makes me more inclined to consider getting other tats for similar reasons. Suddenly it's more than vanity - it's a tool. A coping mechanism. A healthy alternative. Of course, I can't imagine anything ever hitting as hard as losing Vally did, but maybe the tattoo seal has been broken? Time will tell.

I've been getting the urge to date again. Not enough to just jump in yet, I want to get a few more of these little things straightened out with me first, but the thought has been there. Meeting people. A desirable thing? Haven't been able to put my finger on what's changed, exactly. Accepting change better? Bored of the routine? Too many days spent in a quiet house by myself in the last year and a half? People keep telling me I should get another dog, but that's definitely not in the cards for me right now. I don't want to take on the level of commitment that I bring to dog ownership right now. No travel, always home right after work, always sticking to the same schedule for her sake. I want more flexibility right now. And, not least of all, it still feels like MY dog died and another dog would just be an impostor trying to replace her. That's not a healthy approach. So… dating?

… On one hand, saying I'd rather date than adopt a dog because it's less commitment feels cringe. On the other… I ADOPTED that dog. Having a child IS the bigger commit I guess. So…

Anyway. I've actively stopped myself from getting out there again lately. I want a little more progress on health issues so I know I'm not just gonna recede inwards again when it goes to shit. I want these last couple doctors appointments out of the way so I have a clear understanding of what I'm up against. And I want to start slowly, building the people skills that have been eroding over the last few years of mostly isolation. But I am excited at the prospect of heading out on a few practice dates. See where I am with myself. See how engaging I can still be. And see how far I've come in relearning how to get out of myself when meeting others.

I think that was my main superpower in my dating heyday - I was usually comfortable enough with myself that I could start interactions fully focused on the other person and the dynamic between us. I think most people, and myself recently, get so caught up in worrying about how we're being received that we’re only half present in those first conversations with a new connection. “Do they think I'm funny?” gets in the way of actually being funny. “Have they noticed my flaws?” gets in the way of noticing their subtle cues and tells. Trying to express your own finer qualities gets in the way of spotting theirs. If we can be comfortable enough with ourselves to believe in our own quality, it's a head start in those interactions where insecurities might otherwise get in the way. And I had it once.

Actually, I still have it. Ren faire simp girl proved that. English teacher proved that. When I'm on, I'm on, and I've still got it in me. I just need practice to be more consistently in that headspace.

But not yet. Not quite yet. Health is the big obstacle right now, and that's why it's at the front of my priorities. Long walks, new nutrition plan, and building back up these boisterous bulging biceps will bring better balance and beautiful bubbly buxom blondes briefly blushing before beckoning and bending bedside to brandish their beguiling bare backsides.

… sometimes alliteration gets away from me.

Haven't a fucking clue what I've been talking about here this whole time but somehow it's late and I need to sleep. Office tomorrow. Then weekend. Workouts, learning Unreal Engine, maybe playing some piano again, more kombucha. Then the big appointment on Monday that should help frame the last several years of my life. High stakes, but it's progress. Regardless of the outcome, this has been one of those things that's bedeviled me on sleepless nights for years and years. I'm finally stepping up and addressing it properly. Proud of myself for that.

Winter was rough. Very rough. Even by my winter standards. This feels a little better.

Onwards.

-M