Across the room, my cat smacks her lips (do cats have lips?) hungrily, although I fed her a couple hours ago. Part of me wonders if she forgets that she’s eaten, if perhaps senility is creeping into her sixteen-year-old brain. I hope not, but if so, I’ve already made peace with the fact that I will never let her suffer actually going insane. I would save her from that as I know she would save me.

I think the worst thing about getting older for me is that I’m starting to slowly see those around me getting older as well. When I look in the mirror, I see an ever-increasing number of gray hairs on my head and more wrinkles on my face. Those things are so much easier for me to deal with than seeing my cat slowing down, or realizing how much older my parents look every time I see them.

Sometimes this pandemic makes me worried that I’ll never see them again, or that by the time I do see them again, they will have aged so much I no longer recognize them. It seems as though my dad went from salt and pepper hair to white in the span of just a few years. My mom, too, seems to have more wrinkles every time I see her. I wonder if she knows, really knows, that every wrinkle, every gray hair, every part of her is beautiful to me.

I look so much like my parents.

I don’t really see it when I look at my reflection, but when I see certain photos of myself, they’re there. I wonder if someday this will make me smile or cry.

I’ve been sleeping too much during quarantine, though I hear that’s been a lot of people’s experience. I haven’t been practicing my guitar nearly enough, and I’ve definitely been playing an embarrassing amount of Animal Crossing. I’m alive, though, and that must count for something.

I’m also, all things considered, pretty freaking happy lately. I mean, I get depressed and anxious and have the weekly panic attack, but since this is me we’re talking about, I’m actually pretty proud of myself. I haven’t given up, I keep finding reasons to laugh, and my heart is full of a ridiculous amount of love.

After my marriage ended (that’s a topic I’ll definitely be talking at length about in future posts), I accidentally fell into realizing I’m polyamorous (though two partners is surely my limit). No matter which of them I spend time with, it always trips me up a bit to realize they love me. Me. And I’m, like, kind of a mess? I’m getting better, but there have definitely been times when I’ve cried with joy when I think about all the shit I escaped from, only to find myself in a place full of more love than I ever could have dreamed of*.

I plan on talking a bit here and there about love and sex, though I have chosen to keep any and all identifying details off the internet. It’s not about having a name and face to go with these words, it’s the mind and heart behind them that I hope speaks to people. Mostly, I want this experience to help me get things out off my head, where I spend way too much time, and if I can help someone else in the process, that’s fucking rad.

I don’t have all the answers to things I’ll be writing about. Topics such as emotional abuse, failed marriage, anxiety, depression, sex, deep thoughts and epiphanies. All I have are my life experiences to share and hopefully glean some kind of lesson from that I can share with the world.

I just want to help people. I want people to know that it’s okay to be scared and feel negative emotions. I want to take bad things I’ve experienced and make something good out of them. I want people to know that they matter. That they aren’t alone.

The only way I know how to help is by doing what I always do, which is open up, wear my heart on my sleeve, and let people know that I’m here. I’m going to let you in, reader, and in the process, I want you to know it can get better. I want you to learn more about what it’s like to be human, to be this human, and maybe not feel so alone.

It’s going to be full of triggers, which I’ll try to warn people of, but hopefully have some nerdy, awkward humor thrown in too. I make myself laugh until I cry sometimes, and though my sense of humor is pretty dumb, I do hope I make people laugh along the way as well.

To be…

Phoenix

*Can you end a sentence with “of”? I feel like that’s one of those rules you aren’t supposed to break. You know what? My blog, my rules. I’ll let my natural way of talking come through, and sincerest apologies to my English teachers for trying their best.