Cry or Laugh?

As an act of self-love, I am INTENTIONALLY, CONSCIOUSLY, and ACTIVELY focusing on the positive.

It’s amazing how grief or loss can make you extreme.

Do I cry or laugh?
Crying comes when I let myself become present to the loss.

I’m getting adjusted to saying my brother, Tory, transitioned on Christmas due to COVID.

I still talk about him in the present tense.

I sometimes try to trick myself by lying. I say things to myself like, “Tory’s not really gone. He’s just resting.”

It’s hard to believe.
It doesn’t feel real.
I keep thinking Tory?
Why Tory?

I know it’s an unanswerable question.

So I steer my mind to things I have some say so in. Things that are positive.

I’m focusing on being my best self and living my best life. I’m not sure what that really means but I figured I start with my body.

If I told the truth out loud, I feel fat, achy, and old. I’ve been sitting down for a year and I can tell. I am now, as of this week, scheduled to workout with my trainer, Stretch, five days a week. He’s a former athlete who thinks I’m 25. He is merciless. But he makes me laugh until my tummy aches. I thank God for him.

Between my trainer, Happy, and letting new energy in my life, I’m laughing harder than I ever have.

Is that weird?

I don’t know anymore so I’m focused on taking actions that bring joy and take up my full focus.

I have new shoes (two pairs) to help my knees not hurt so I can fully commit to my fitness.

I have 18 prepared healthy meals in my refrigerator that taste good.

I’m starting to get likes and engagement on my two dating apps. Dating is a FASCINATING process online. But it’s nice to have people to talk to.

I have a biweekly massage scheduled as well as I’m purposely drinking more water.

I’m stretching, form rolling, and using the small hardball to focus on tight muscles.

AND I’m loving being with my private clients. Being with them reminds me that my life has a purpose.

So I guess I’m saying I’m taking on living AND grieving simultaneously. Not either-or.

I hope you don’t get sick of me sharing my grieving process to stay well. I’m clear it’s not upbeat but it’s the best I can muster now.

Thank you for witnessing.

I love you.
Dr. Venus

Please Lord…

Dear Lord,

I know I’m grieving.

But in all honesty, some days are better than others. I feel like I’m spiraling, headfirst, into a thick and sticky darkness that has sucked the hope and joy from the marrow of my bones.

I couldn’t get out of bed yesterday until the afternoon. Happy snuggled with me until I could muster the desire to put both feet on the floor.

I feel so despondent.
Like I don’t care anymore.

My heart breaks when I see my baby sister. I can’t be with the sadness I see pouring from her skin. I can’t talk to her about Tory. About the funeral.
About any of it.

I feel like I will shatter into thousands of shards of glass, too hurt by life to ever be put back together.

I don’t care what I eat.
I’ve given up on sleeping.
I feel safest in my car.

I’m trying to hire a personal trainer but even that feels hollow.

My prayers feel plastic.

I wish I were angry.

Politics. Life. Social change.
I simply don’t care right now.
Not enough to get back in the ring and fight for what I believe and stand for.

The only things that comfort me are Happy, my private clients, and writing.

I pray, “God, please, help me feel good about life again.”
I am wrapped in a world of gray.
No appetite.
No taste.
No drive.

Please Lord, help me.
Give me a sign.
A victory,

…that breathes life back into my soul…

All Comfort. No Words.

(Secure Attachments) Since Happy was 3 months old, he has been stealing my socks.

I have no idea why.

Each time he wrestles my unsuspecting sock from my foot, I laugh from the depths of my soul.

My therapist says Happy and I have a “secure attachment,” which means we know we have each other. I’m not going to leave him and he is not going to leave me. We accept each other’s imperfections and delight in each other’s particularities.

I have not, in my adult life, had a dog before.

When I was diagnosed with PTSD and Anxiety Disorder, I had two options: pills or a puppy (service dog). Because addiction is in my blood, the choice was obvious.

One of the things I love most about Happy is he doesn’t ask me questions. He just snuggles in close and licks my tears away.

I love that he can’t talk. Because I can’t.

Not right now. Not yet. #toosoon

He doesn’t insist or try to make me feel better. He just lays beside me or pounces me face/nostrils/ear and licks until I wake up or take him outside to potty.

We have dinner together.

Rather he eats his food then waits to see how long he has to campaign to have some of mine. He lets me bathe him and tolerates my propensity to dress him up in sweaters and shoes. I know he hates it but it makes me happy to feel like I’m taking care of him.

Like me, he needs his space.

But he also needs to know I’m right there should he need anything. I’ve learned that he will only dig his heals in when made to do something that is not of his will. I get it. I’m the exact same way. So is every member in my family.

I guess I’m saying Happy is family.

Happy is silly, playful, brilliant, strategic, kind, compassionate, stubborn, a protector and in many ways a provider. He’s opinionated and remarkably sensitive. AND he’s a fire sign. He’s an Aries. Tory was a Sagittarius.

I think Tory would have liked Happy. They are cut from the same cloth. They both blessed me with secure attachments, acceptance and unconditional love.

I still don’t get it about the socks. (Here’s a video)

I don’t have to. I have Happy.

So he can steal as many of my socks as long as he wants to.

His shenanigans comfort me…

Title: All comfort. No words.

About last night…

Stopping traffic. Just.Because. I. Can. #sexygirlflex

Had breakfast with my baby boy. 🐶 #getoffmyplatehappy

People parting like the red sea to watch me walk in my authority. #lookbutdonttouch

Sexy 28-48 year-olds from both teams trying to holla. #justsaying #queeraf

1st day as 49. #Godsfavorite

This is a great start to the rest–and best– of my life. #blessed #Godisfaithful

Happy Birthday to me. #selfapproval #selfacceptance #selflove #ichooseme

Oh yeah… About last night…

Thank you Courtney & Derrial for making my 49th birthday a night to treasure. You are the best sort of friend to have when a person moves to a new city with no family or friends. Thanks for ensuring I wasn’t home alone on my birthday. I thank God for our friendship. Thank you for your silliness and for enveloping me into your warm friendship. I’m moved by your generosity and I LOVE your crazy sense of humor. It’s a gift to call you friend.

Happy did great! I was smart enough to bring him food so he wouldn’t eat mine!!! 🐶😂😂😂

Thanks to EVERYONE for making this birthday my favorite one so far! What are we going to do for 50???? 😂🙏🏽😂