Pretty little things…

I got married! I went on a honeymoon. My new name is Quade. Good luck finding any Q tchotchkes!

I got a new dissertation committee. I quit taking hormonal birth control! So many changes. So. Many. Emotions.

It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Life gets weird sometimes. This was a good weird. Wedding weird. Seeing everyone come together and pull off something so magical is pretty darn cool. There were some bumps along the road – the bumps that remind us we are so damn human.

We did it. I married a man whose only wish is to spend more time with me. I married a man whose only wish is to chill on the couch and play video games and one day be a dad to human children and I can’t freaking wait for that day.

I didn’t feel like writing for so long – I had so much to say I didn’t know how to sit down and do it.

Right before the wedding I was in a dark place. My dissertation was going nowhere, at the speed of light. Three quarters in and I felt like I was drowning… I didn’t even have a topic. I had draft upon draft to my program chair saying I was done with the program. I would be ABD (all but dissertation).

I held on. I got married. I went on the most magical honeymoon. Matt and I finally had time to let our souls find each other again and it’s like we somehow fell in love all over again in Alaska. We hiked, we soaked in hot springs, we held hands on the streets of Fairbanks and without saying a word, knew this place was going to steal a piece of us.

We got back and I still couldn’t write. I kept a journal in Alaska and wrote about what we did each day. It felt nice. It wasn’t the same as being here. Writing to all of you, some of you strangers, some of you not (hi mom!), is so cathartic for me.

This place.

Atmosphere released another albumĀ Fishing Blues and as always, I found the inspiration to write.

The last two mornings I woke up dizzy. The old monster reared it’s ugly head and I’m immediately back to that place of anger.

The anger comes so suddenly.

It’s like acid.

I don’t want to be me.

I want to peel my skin off.

I question everything.

My sanity, my ability to function… can I be a good mother? Can I be a good wife? Am a good person/friend/daughter/relative? Can I finish this dissertation? Can I be a Doctor? Seriously though, am I going fucking crazy?

A year ago I would have reached for my Valium. Today I only do so when I am unable to handle the symptoms. I have had to learn to surrender to it. Surrender to the anxiety. Surrender to the sadness. Surrender to the darkness. I used to fight it. Sometimes I still do.

The only reason I can surrender is because I have things holding me here. Body & soul.

I am someone’s wife. I am someone’s daughter. I am someone’s Godmother. The rubber band bounces back and I wake up a changed person. Even if it’s only for a day, a week, if I am completely lucky, a month.

Thanks Slug, for helping me find my voice again.