There are things I don’t write about.

And then my brain jumps to yet another topic I’m just… not going to write about.

You know what? My body hurts. I can say that. Pretty much all of me. I’m exhausted.

But! I have the most awesome support network I can imagine having. Do you know how it feels that when I am feeling shitty I can reach out to 28 god damn people and all of them have a few minutes to text with me?

The specific quote from the day that I kinda want to have printed on something where I can read it a lot is, “You are very vulnerable to accepting being wrong. Sometimes you’re just NOT WRONG.”

That was succinct. And this person has one of the stronger voices in my inside voice loop. I want to continue to be someone who is ok accepting that they are wrong. I want to continue to be someone who can apologize. I want to continue to be someone who knows that I do wrong things and I fuck up and I need to god damn say I’m sorry.

I like that about myself.

Do you know what else I like about myself? I like that I’m a control freak. Know why? Because it allows me to get so much done.

That’s a pretty core part of my identity. I get shit done. I do it by being a fucking control freak. It is true. And my kids have adapted to the Krissy-show with gusto. But I get that we move through life really fast. We are all intense motherfuckers in this house.

I really like that about us.

Noah and I had a long chat about the Quiet One and the fact that I’m not being a friend to the marriage. I’m not. Getting called on it makes sense. It’s appropriate.

I like giving permission. I don’t really like controlling people by negating behaviors I like controlling people by giving permission. Because I like the results so much more.

It is a conscious choice of ways to interact. I’m not embarrassed about this. I mean, is it “controlling” people to tell them that they really and truly should follow what they want to do instead of listening to the negating voices in the world? Is it influencing? Is it inspiring? Is it just fucking talking?

It depends on who is judging, don’t it?

I’m kinda glad I ended up with some extra days free this week. I get to go visit one of my former students who is dealing with cancer. I’m not going to be shy: please contribute money if you can. I’m not going to give you her life story because I don’t have permission. But this girl has had a ridiculously hard and stressful journey in life. If you can, please help her. She needs to live. Her life has just finally gotten to the point where it is not shitty. Now this. Please help if you can. If you can’t, please share the link with people who can help.

I think a lot about my place in the world. What it means to have an open heart. What will make me hard? What will make me turn mean?

I think that will have to be a choice I make. Because I could get mean. I really could. I could be violent.

But it wouldn’t get me what I want.

Do you know what will get me what I want? Admitting when I fuck up and apologizing. Using my words. Learning how to observe boundaries without being a disrespectful asshole. I will never do what I want to do in life if I double down on my right to stay the same.

That’s just not going to work.

I know I have to change. I know that I have to adapt.

Do you know how much freedom there is in that? I do not have to try and stay the same in a rapidly altering world. I have to try and figure out how to race with the current and pick up speed.

Yes. I play life on the easy level. It is true.

But I also pay forward what has been given to me.

I will keep opening my home. I learn things I need to know.

Helping people can’t ever be about what I get back from doing so. That can’t be the point. You help because you have extra. So much extra. And it is shameful to hoard it. I help in ways big and small, monetary and energetic, near and far.

I like that about me.

I tell my children that they are literally some of the luckiest people who have ever been alive. They in particular have access to more information, freedom, and privilege than like 99.99% of human beings who have ever been alive.

Now what do you want to do with that?

So far draw Minecraft pictures. But they are quite good.

I have a kitchen to finish painting. My heart overflows with joy and creative energy.

My neighbor is going to come over for a chat about her health. She has a bunch of questions she wants to ask me. I’m delighted we were finally able to schedule that.

/me throws out gravity net

Come to me…..

Ahem.

Dude, why am I being such an asshole to Noah? I keep saying shit I shouldn’t say. My shrink says she thinks that he has kept me safe long enough that I’m acting like a rebellious teenager. She might be… closer to accurate than I like.

I am very interested in what medication could do for my reading ability. I haven’t been able to read much in a year. My brain is just too distracted and all over the place. I can’t focus very well. I think I’ve read five new books? That were on intensely important-to-me topics. So I could hyperfocus because shit I need this.

But otherwise I can’t read right now. Quite frankly I think I need to go through and start doing more suicide/trauma reading. I’m flailing and not managing my impulsivity at all well.

I am not being long term selfish I am being short term stupid selfish.

That’s a problem. That creates wounds that don’t heal.

Shit. Shit. Motherfucking Shit.

Ok. Can’t undo what is done. Can only move forward. Apologize. Make a different mistake next time. Hopefully… a much smaller one. In an entirely different area of life. Maybe not make a mistake near that boundary for a few years.

This dance we do.

Given where we are starting from and where we want to get… the only comfort is we have already come so far.

Noah was sweet talking me yesterday. He told me he thinks I may actually be smarter than him I just don’t have as broad of an education as him. That made my elitist smug bastard heart melt. It uhhh made sense in context of the conversation. You don’t get to know the context.

It probably isn’t what you think. And that’s all I’m saying.

I could have come up with many dozens more people yesterday if I had wanted to. Because I am one of the luckiest people alive.

As long as I don’t ask for too much… I can get a few minutes of contact from a whole lot of people all in a burst if I have to.

Thank you.

I love you so much.

Noah does share well. He really fucking does. But I’m not respecting the important parts of not sharing. I’m treating him like an obstacle and that fucking sucks.

Stop being such an asshole, Krissy. He isn’t blocking you from getting what you want. He is what you want. I mean… I can come up with lots of things/people/situations I want too.

But Noah has limits. He shares me so much. He is so patient.

I like to push my luck until I see where I run into a brick wall head first. And that sucks. I always have. I find boundaries from the other side of them.

Noah’s patience should be legendary in my opinion… but he’s running out. It is… interesting to watch. I’m learning a lot.

I feel like I have been feeling around the boundaries. What are the breaking points. What does breaking mean.

What a fucking asshole.

Stop it. You know what being good here means. If you want to earn back trust do the work. For five years. And no bitching. That’s the deal.

My words come at a high cost sometimes.

Sometimes even gods have to atone. I think a limited sentence like five years is kinda generous.

Hunh. I sorta wonder if this is somehow what I was aiming for. Noah came down on me. Like a box of fucking hammers. I’m not saying he was abusive or mean. He wasn’t. He was clear and specific.

Yup. I done did that.

Motherfucker.

Biotech, you know you are skating on thin ice and you say what?

Can’t even say what were you thinking. Clearly there was no thinking going on.

Analyze your possible actions and make choices before you fucking act. I don’t care if it hurts to think that hard. Do it anyway.

Why does it hurt to think that hard? Because my lizard brain is a short sighted asshole. Over riding that takes a lot of push.

On or off is easier. Moderated on…. fucccccckkkkkkkk

I honestly feel like I hit the wall. But not in a bruised and battered way. In a calm, “Oh. Well ok then” way.

Noah my love, I don’t know why this is a good deal for you. I really don’t. I know you’ve told me hundreds of times. It still just… your math is off.

But the boundaries are uhhh becoming clearer by the day. I don’t want to make Noah small and wounded. That means I need to think before I act. I need to keep my mental model of him in the forefront of my mind. Before I say or do anything I have to think about how he would feel about it.

I have to be a friend to the marriage. I have to only say things that increase the likelihood of longevity. Which isn’t to say that I can’t bitch sometimes to friends. But I have to pick who and what I say with respect.

I feel like this should somehow be more intuitive. I think this is why it is just so much easier to pick on or off than moderated on. I don’t think it is that I am just stupid. I think this is hard.

Noah, I still think * is a good idea.

This marriage is going to be long. We need something to go your way sometimes. I’m uhm. Yeah. I’m getting mine. And do you remember how hard pregnancy was? Breaks are good.

Breaks from how obnoxious and high maintenance I am are good.

So I’m a mixed bag. There are things I like about me and things I need to do some serious work on. Sigh. But, I declare that progress towards the goal and continue on with the work.

I’m looking at my calendar up to the cruise. Holy shit.

Well. I do like to keep busy. I might, uhh want to start thinking about packing. Because if I plan well… I bet I could make some damn smart choices. But I’ll have to think. If I pack at the last minute I’ll bring too much.

I’ve done this dance a few times.