It’s a frigid 22F outside right now, the cold is radiating off the walls in the bedroom and the air is dry. It’s 2am and I laid down around 9pm. Kasey will be back in Indy 23 hours from now and I’ll be up at the farm in about 10-12.
Lo ordered Wingstop for dinner and I couldn’t resist, fingers crossed this cup of mini-wheats helps settle my tummy.
The drive is an hour and 19 minutes, just a bit longer than my lunch breaks that seem to go by so quickly. I’m considering asking Lo to go with me up to Logansport. I love my mom, but I’ve never really panicked around her.
I took the RV with Jeep in tow and went on the interstate for a bit earlier today. The rig is quite heavy loaded down and lack of acceleration makes for some interesting interstate merging experiences. Once on the road, it’s still a bit busy at the wheel due to the high steer ratio, but something that you can get used to.
I remain surprised that the solar panels didn’t seem to impact the driving experience. Of course, I’ve yet to drive in very high wind, but I did space the panels out to not act like a sail and face directly into the wind flat as to not act like a wing.
Lo coming up poses an issue of how she would get back home, she works the next day. The whole reason why Mom and Mike are coming down was due to Kasey’s car needing to make it up there somehow. Mom doesn’t drive on the interstate so even if Lo came up, she’d be driving her car.
What if Lo just comes up and Mike drives her back? Same amount of driving for them. Mom and Mike want to get here at 9-10am and it just feels too early for me.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter ultimately and I know it’s my brain scrambling to somehow escape the possible discomfort. I just need to keep thinking of all the other times I made it, even further distances and was fine.
I remember driving back and from Lafayette on almost the daily to see Brooke and my outpatient when things were falling apart with Amanda. That was a 49 minute drive each way and I left at like 7-8am, wild. I’d drive up with Elaine to Michigan to see her family about once a month during my last round of full blown agoraphobia.
Speaking of that, the major times I’ve had it was after major traumatic experiences; the kind that just doesn’t happen to other people. For example, my grandmother died and my uncle was killed the night before her funeral, he flew in from CA and I was the last one from he family to see him alive. He was drunk, mom sent me to go get him and he was acting a fool. “Family friends” he knew since childhood offered to take him home, called mom and yeah; the mom the kids knew him since childhood.
He got into an altercation and a fight, they left him out in the country to die, in the cold, drunk and alone. I found out going into the funeral home for my grandmother, they called me upstairs and asked me to identify a man in photos.
My first divorce was a month or so after, got called into the police station, thinking they were going to ask me about my deceased uncle; started asking me questions about child abuse instead. Yeah, bad times. Lola isn’t in my life at all now and while I was there as a father, never missed a single weekend or vacation regardless of how bad my anxiety was, I always came through for her.
I won’t mention this last divorce, I’ve blogged about it too much already, invested too much time dissecting and trying to understand. I do understand, I was with a spiritual narcissist who used me as supply as the person their ex was cheating on them with made her wet and became “available” again after ghosting her out of jealousy. Some of the things she said and believed was over the line of being insane and the entitlement and victim blaming, all the way down to blatant cis male hatred of an ally, of someone who is rather queer crushed me.
I hate all of the things she took away from me, I hate she took my freedom and I’ve been trapped here since 2020. I was sad that my marriage was stolen from me, we didn’t even have a moment to celebrate it. I hate that she ultimately took away my kid and being a father.
But even the hate and sadness has faded by now. It’s been longer now by a few times than I even knew her. It’s just a few triggers that bring it up again. Like, the last time I was at my mom’s was when I found their sex playlist and it set me off, so she kicked me out (of a house I was paying for, mind you). We talked on the phone some days later and I couldn’t get over the absolute fucking “joy” in her voice that there’s a possibility of them living together, like what the fuck?
I mean, it all doesn’t matter and I have other stories. Relationships can be tough and not knowing when to leave can be a very stressful thing indeed. I actually can have quite a bit of grace about it all, there’s moments I forgive and let go. Like, I found someone that’s pretty awesome and is actually up for traveling with me, where’s the glowing and positive blog posts about her, huh?
They’ll come, eventually. Blogs about trips and cute photos. Pretty winter photos of the windows glowing in the RV against a snowy, dusk skyline.
It’s just so helpful for me to journal, blog and use it as a way to vent, most of all. My life on the daily is pretty anxiety free and I found some peace here and there, some loving contentment. I cuddle Kasey a bit tighter, for a bit longer. I make some more time to maintain, repair, love. Stoke the fire, keep things going.
And as neurotic as I may find her sometimes, it’s just a reminder that I also tend to be a ball of anxiety and I think at the end of the day, we get each other more than if one of us was not. Like, her trip to Seattle isn’t going very well from what she told me and she’s so worried bout being a Debbie downer and a burden as she has emotions about seeing her “estranged” roommate (estranged as a joke about something else).
She’s really grown on me.
Lo has also been an absolute rock-star helping with the move, I couldn’t have gotten everything done in time without her! I’m so glad we were able to transition into a good friendship and can show up for each other in that way.
I’m actually feeling a bit more settled now, shall we sleep?
My next post should be from the farm! Fingers crossed I get out of Indy and just settle into the drive. There’s something meditative about it, even boring if I let it be.
Ross Fisher 