Just wanted to make a post saying I'm alright, I'm healthy, and most importantly I'm happy. I found that peace in analog living that I was looking for.
Long post ahead so brace yourself! I promise it's good.
In a way my life outside of work went backwards in time. I did it all so drastically by canceling my internet for five months, and my phone? Well took a bit of searching to find a carrier with a non-smart phone device but I found one. Calls and text only. I left a message that my hours to call were between 1pm - 10pm. Unless there was an emergency. Devices like my laptop and tablet were not allowed in my room, everything was in the kitchen or living room, shut off entirely and used only when I got all my important things in the house done. My screentime was limited to just an hour and I set timers to keep to that. I was too used to spending so much time watching videos and pinning things but had nothing to show at the end of it all.
It was hard at first, but they say breaking a habit takes 21 days and it's easier if you replace the habit with a better one. So I asked a friend from work to hold me accountable and suggest a task to replace any mindless scrolling. She lived in ABQ but originally came from another country, she'd always had an interest in the local wildlife but being a city girl wasn't too comfortable going out herself. She knew I was much more daring, so she set me on a task to document what I'd find out there, take photos, write notes, and share them once a week. I found a sturdy enough journal in the garage and used that. I first I tried to draw everything but that was impractical, my brother gave me an old dedicated camera and then it all fell into place.
My friend loved reading through it, she'd add her own notes, she even added gummed stars to it like an old school book report. It's become a fun task but I'm running out of pages now, she said she wouldn't mind continuing it but it's apparent I haven't gone back to scrolling much anymore. Mission accomplished!
I got back into handicrafts. Sure I still draw digitally, but I started wanting to create things I could hold. Since I missed keeping a record of my life online, I started looking into analog journaling, at first it was just writing then I started playing around with found ephemera, finding quotes that inspired me, creating a ritual of lighting a candle and using scented pens to make these sessions soothing and inviting. When it rained, I'd open the window and write near it, and since these writings would only be for my eyes, I was allowed to write whatever came to mind, no filters or censoring, just my raw emotions and feelings. The torn pictures and odd bits glued in reflecting my mood for that day. While it's more convenient to pop open an app to write, it felt nice to see and touch something physical, to brush a finger on that pressed leaf I found by a stream or smell that bit of perfume I wore going out to eat with my loved ones.
My brother started getting inspired by me, and though he still uses his technology daily like gaming or the phone, he's taken to cooking from scratch. He has food intolerances (milk, nuts, and eggs), it limits his choices on anything from snacks to meals and some of the alternatives offered in stores taste horrible, but YouTube has been a huge resource on how to create food he can truly enjoy without accidently eating something that could make him sick. I'm his taste-tester now. At first his experiments were questionable, but now I enjoy his vegetable pancakes, mushroom and spinach hashbrowns, and venturing into Greek cuisine whenever my mom's dad goes on video chat. They'll cook together.
I became a bit more spiritual. I never understood why my dad would spend so long over a certain bit of text or quote that caught his eye, then write pages about how he interpreted it or how it made him feel, but now I do. Sometimes something just grabs you and you get so many thoughts about it. Nature makes me feel that. I'll see something and a profound thought hits me, suddenly I start writing pages expressing my thoughts, sometimes its just giving thanks for being able to be alive at that space and time to witness it. My grandmother says I'm finally learning to listen and being taught by beings much older than humanity. It's all fine to go out and explore, go seek out a thrill, but it's equally exciting coming back home having learned something that makes things fall into place or challenged your way of thinking. So now I use these experiences and meditate on them quietly, write what believe I was being taught, then open that page again when I need guidance. It's certainly helped when I felt overwhelmed and depressed.
I dropped to a very low point when I lost my orange tabby this year, he fell ill in July and I tried my best to figure out how to help him through vets. It never hit me just how old he really was. He acted like a kitten, looked so young... he was 17. His heart was just wearing down and he was in pain. They gave me time to say goodbye. I spoke and held him until the end. I buried him in the ground of the only home he knew. I remember writing something about this when I came across a dying crow in the woods. It was beautiful, their eyes looked so old, the feathers were faded and shabby. They didn't look scared when I stumbled upon them. Didn't react at all. Just stayed there, wings held tightly, barely breathing, making soft sounds as if it was talking to itself. I imitated it, and it responded with more soft sounds, coos, preened itself a bit. It wobbled toward me but stayed its distance. We went back and forth making those soft sounds. Eventually it's body went slack and it's eyes dulled. This little life was gone and it moved me to write coming back home.
I don't know how animals think of death or if they think of it all, maybe it's my human bias, but I know if my time eventually came, I'd like to have someone see me off, even a stranger. I'd like to hear a gentle voice as I passed on. That I wasn't alone. This experience in May helped my loss in July. This little kitten that I raised since he was 3 days old, found in a city dump with their siblings, I was there for all his firsts, for his graceful aging, and for his final days. And that's such an honor when you think about it. I was blessed with so much time with him, and it really does make you cherish the time spent with other loved ones. We never know how much time we have left with someone, yet we think we have forever.
To end this on a positive note, my health improved. I haven't had any relapses in my blood pressure, no fainting, even when doing some hiking I was okay. Maybe I finally built back my blood after that major injury, maybe it was the detox, who knows, maybe everything. But I think I can say I've made a full recovery. Work is the same as usual, still weird and entertaining as always. My brother's integrated into the night crowd wonderfully well and feeling like he's finally out of that stagnant place in his life. My mom is great, she's since moved into Carolines home and intends to stay long term. She enjoys the culture up here. Her father bought her old home and her younger brother is a permanent resident there, getting the help he needs for his schizophrenia, and pursuing his art again with a renewed passion.
Financially we're doing better than I could hope, I got a substantial increase, but we're still being frugal and helping out those who need it. As you read my inner health has improved and I feel like I finally have a handle on how I want to live. Essentially in a different era so to speak. I guess that's what I was searching for when I said I felt like Alice in that last post. I was looking for a way home through old abandoned buildings and forgotten places. And thought something must be wrong with me. Why did that feel like home? Because it was, it is.
When I rebelled against my mom, I took off not knowing where to go. I found refuge in these forgotten places and they became a home. Like these forgotten places I too felt betrayed by people I thought loved me, I felt discarded and alone. So I suppose I imprinted on them, regarded them as friends and shelter during the darkest days of my life. I was so scared, I felt like she'd find me, drag me home, punish me for daring to go againest her if I hid in the usual places. But she would never find me in these places. They were much too ruined, chaotic, and distorted.
When I finally found a true place to call home with Caroline, I started missing these places, as they were my islands in a storm, they took me in when I had nothing. I became protective of these places that people feared. I wanted to show everyone the beauty I saw in these empty and liminal places. But capturing that feeling without them knowing the context and emotions I felt during that time was tricky or next to impossible. So I started researching their history, piecing together what these places were, never once trying to present them as scary but that they simply existed and were misunderstood.
And this worked. It also worked for my relationship with my mom, especially when someone outside the family tried to tear down her old childhood home, something she had a hand in making long ago. I was there to defend it, to put a stop to a man who called it worthless. And my words spoke out againest this to the city, asking them to see what I see, and what it could be. That you didn't need to destroy something to make room for something new, as not everything new is good. You can change things that already exist and make them better. You just have to make the first move and sometimes that's all it takes to have others follow.
It was here I realized its was in my nature to guard. Not just as a job, but as a guard in its truest definition. Just as I advocate for those who work below and forgotten by the employees above. With Brun and his crew. With the janitorial. With the abandoned animals, with the homeless, with the local native tribe. My heart is full for those lost and voiceless, because I know how that feels intimately.
And now my mom's old home still stands, being renovated and preserved as a historical spot. I believe that was the pivotal point our relationship mended. She understood now. We came to accept we needed each other for balance. Sometimes she needed to let go of that stubborn order to have a little fun and to keep sentimental things from being forgotten. Sometimes I needed a bit more structure in my life.
Okay so a lot of structure.
It's a work in progress, especially with setting times and limits on myself, my god its hard! But its worth it. I don't think I'll be fully like her, lord knows we're too different for that, my brother is more like her but with time management. Together they help me be accountable, and I help them cut loose a bit when they get too wound up.
But getting back to the main topic...
I am sorry for just disappearing and leaving people hanging. I guess I thought my last message explained it all, but a few were left confused and scared. I'm really am sorry for that. I'm okay! I hope you're okay and if not, I hope you will be okay soon.
However if you think this message is me returning, Im sorry. Its not. I really don't want to return to social media to be honest. I don't know if I'd fall into the same bad habits again, and it was an uphill battle trying to undo the damage it caused me. I've fallen out of love with things I used to do online as well, they just don't appeal to me anymore for various reasons, and that may impact a few of the friends I left behind. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me, you're valid in your anger and sadness, I acknowledge and accept that. If you never want to speak to me, it's okay, I understand. You do what you need to.
To those who wish to stay in contact, I can't exactly guarantee we can. It might be intermittent, weeks or months might pass. I guess in a way my lifestyle now has a bit of a time-dilation thing. Things will take longer to get to. Transmissions might get lost. Please understand why though.
Best wishes to you all! Know that in my disappearence you were in my thoughts and prayers. I love you all.