I haven’t been on this blog in about six years or so. Which seems crazy, especially when I look back on all the things that have transpired during that time.
I lost my mother and a marriage in the same couple weeks, and moved home to Chicago for a couple years. I worked at Starbucks continuous throughout and even did some prepping and sandwich making for a Potbelly for about a year or so too. I met amazing amounts of people and made lifelong friendships during that time. So the losses really didn’t outweigh the greatness of those few years.
I moved back to Washington state, right outside of Seattle, in 2016. Married a dude, had a great time. It didn’t last thru the life of our children, but that’s alright.
I gave birth to twin baby girls in February of 2018. They were only 24 weeks along, making them about 4 months premature. If you’re reading this, you likely know the story and I don’t need to dive back in. If you don’t already know, just take a gander at my other social media and you’ll get the gist pretty fast.
Long story short? My girls were very sick. Emelia Ray died after only a handful of days with us. Autumn Gail lived for almost 16 months. During that time she spent 123 days in the NICU, followed by a Meningitis infection where she was in the pediatric ICU for an additional 5-6 weeks, as well as many on and off stays there after. In total Autumn endured 17 brain surgeries as well as one additional surgery to place a permanent feeding tube in her tummy. She had extreme Hydrocephalus, Cerebral Palsy, Epilepsy, as well as many other delays and disorders because of her severe prematurity at birth. She died in May of 2019.
Needless to say, my life has taken some pretty large hits over these last six years. Many I have overcome without once looking back. But there are plenty of them that keep me awake at night and fuel my anxiety and depression daily. I miss my girls. I miss my life with Autumn, even if it was in and out of hospitals. I became a woman that I never knew I could be. I was a mother. I was strong. I was an advocate for a very sick child who couldn’t speak for herself. And for a good amount of the time, I was alone. Taking care of an entire household, 2 cats, plenty of fish and reptile, a giant golden retriever who was a forever toddler. I was trying to balance all of that on top of going to appointments nearly every single day for Autumn. Therapies, ultrasounds, MRIs, you name it. It was constant.
After she passed away, I kind of lost myself in work. I was working over 70 hours a week between Starbucks and a local bar that conveniently was right across the street from my coffee shop. I had a community, for sure. I had an amazing best friend/boyfriend with me thru it all. I sort of lost who I was off the clock. I lived to work. I breathed it.
When I left Starbucks early this year, I was okay about it. It had been 12 years running and I did a damn fine job there. I was sad and it was a severe adjustment. But I needed to move on to something that felt more like me. So I threw myself in to the bar job and it was amazing. I really did love it. Again, though, all I was doing was working. I didn’t have a social life and I didn’t really talk to friends and family. I just consumed myself with the next thing on my prep list.
A few weeks ago I decided to put my mental and physical health first, and I left my bar job. Currently, I’ve just been a stay at home cat mom (to four) and cleaning and finishing moving in to my partner’s apartment. It’s also been a severe adjustment, especially the amount of felines, but I’m pretty happy about it and I’ve been enjoying not having to stress out about stocking beer or how many containers of sliced tomato and ranch sauces we have ready to go for the day. It’s lovely not being yelled at by shitty customers or dickhead coworkers. It’s nice to wake up every single morning (usually by a cat tapping at me to come feed them or get up and start my normal ritual of vacuuming at 9am lol) and be able to make coffee, catch up on media, chit chat with friends, water my plants and take time for myself… and then move forward with the day. I haven’t had this freedom since I was able to work. I’ve always been a workaholic and if you asked me a year ago how I’d feel about not having a job, I’d probably find the nearest bridge to dramatically emphasize how dire it is for me to have something to do.
What I’ve realized, though, is that even outside of work… I do have things to do. Things to keep me busy. I have hobbies (like this blog!) and friends and family. People that need me, people that WANT me, and places to go and adventures to take on head first.
So, I’m starting this blog back up. In part so I can have a purpose every morning (my goal is to write when I wake up every day)… and in part so I can start sharing what I cook, my love for my plants and animals, sell the things I know I’m great at selling, etc.
Basically, this is my “coming back to me” moment. And I’m enjoying figuring out what that means.
stellabluecreations 