So the holidays have pretty much come and gone. It was nice. Except a couple of things here and there. One of those is that we have a buddy who has some heart issues, but I think the going notion is that he should be (relatively) fine and dandy and out of the hospital before the new year starts. So yay for that.
The Eldest turns 12 tomorrow. ‘Mind Blown’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. It doesn’t seem like 12 years since she came into this world, gazing around the room without a single peep of complaint. But here it is.
I got a chainsaw! Of my very own! Finally, no more begging a fearful father to borrow one, and it never happening. Still, it’s been fun. The dads have been coming over and working on our massive mess of felled trees. We have ambitions of lining paths with logs, and low walls made of the same. It’s letting us get into the woods, or almost. Still a lot of work to do, and it’s not going to be done anytime soon. But a chainsaw. I’m still not sure I should be trusted with one, but so far I have all my bits and pieces still attached.
The fire pit has been getting one hell of a workout as well. All day, every day for at least the past week and a half. I’ve also started trying my hand a bit of (very) amateur blacksmithing. I’ve been working on heating some rebar, then trying to fish out to smash the crap out of it with a hammer. It’s still fun. And it’s a step back towards metalworking, which I have missed immensely.
It hit me about a week ago that I’m still haunted by things from the past. Or that things were actually far worse than I understood them at the time. I’m not really sure where it all came from, but it laid me low. I’m still not sure where I am in the whole mess. I honestly thought that it was done and said. But now I’m sitting here, playing scenes over in my head. Again and again. I feel like meat. Chewed, used, and abused meat.
It’s not been a struggle to resist, but old habits of self-harm have been on the edge of my mind. The missus called to check on things in general (house, kids, chickens) and I told her I had been cutting logs, but initially my words had simply been. “I’ve been cutting.” And then hastily I added “Logs. Cutting logs.”
She knows. She knows me. And she’s still here. That keeps some of it all at bay. It also stomps down on the irrational thoughts of her suddenly being done with me, which I have never had in our entire time together. It’s still infuriating the way she can’t find a hamper for dirty clothes, or the sink for dirty dishes, and she also still seems to suffer under the erroneous thought that cabinet doors close themselves, but she’s still here. With me. For me.
And I really wanted some neat way to wrap up all of this, but that’s really all there is. I’m here, we are all still here, and we are about to bring in a brand new year. 2017 was overall a great one, but this last month has been complete and utter Hell.