Yesterday, I went to pick up my ballot to vote early in the 2024 election. Waiting in lines is difficult, so it’s been beneficial that I can pick up my ballot and take it home, where I can calmly spend time choosing a candidate or picking a for/against and retain/repeal issue.
Voting stresses me the hell out at the best of times. This election, my ballot was three pages long. In addition to having to research people running in local elections – city council, public school board, college board, natural resources district, judges, etc. – there are also two propositions relating directly to the city of Scottsbluff and six ballot initiatives. Two of those are conflicting abortion issues, so you know I want to make sure I tick the right boxes.
While I was waiting for my ballot to be readied, I popped over to chat with a friend, whose office is across the hall from the county clerk’s office. I was just going to say hi and let her get back to work. I waved. She jumped out of her seat and came to talk to me. The first words out of her mouth were, “how’s your mom doing?” It was hard not to cry. This is how many of my conversations have gone the past couple of months and it’s overwhelming that people care so much after a lifetime of relatively few even acknowledging my existence (Paul excluded, naturally).
While I was chatting, one of the clerks came out of the office and brought my ballot to me. She could have hollered my name, but she took the time to carry it over to me. That’s the Nebraska Nice that knocks me back every time it happens.
Sometimes, I forget that people actually read what I write. The past few months have been a big reminder that they do. Since July 15, it’s been difficult to get a lot of “me” things done, but I’m managing as best as I can.
My Aunt Elaine and my nephew/little brother, David, have been immensely helpful. Both know of my mental health issues and David checks in on me every day while Aunt Elaine does so 4-5 times a week. David and I have been playing Minecraft with his son and wife, which is a welcome distraction. David and Aunt Elaine have been helping with things I can’t do because I am not physically in New York. They have also been making phone calls when I am unable to, so I don’t totally break down.
I wanted to thank everyone who has reached out to me during this time, whether it was by text, email, phone, or in-person. It really means a lot to me and I don’t think “thank you” is adequate enough, yet it’s all I can give right now. Writing individual letters is hard, as is this little post, partly because people have overwhelmed me with kindness and partly because the entire situation is overwhelming.
In addition to taking care of the medical and financial needs of my mom, I am doing the same with her life partner, Ed, who was diagnosed with dementia. Mom had been taking care of him until her accident. I signed the power of attorney and health proxy in 2018 to do the job if Mom could not. Both are residing in different care homes. The phone calls, paperwork, required court documentation, and a bunch of other stuff is relentless.
This paragraph should be a happy update on my mom. The best I can say is the care home has stopped returning my calls. I haven’t spoken to my mother since Sept. 6. I have filed paperwork with the court indicating I want her moved closer to Middletown, where all my family is. No one in the family feels she is getting the care she needs. That’s the most polite way I can say it. Rest assured, “god-damned fucking assholes” are among the words I think, say, and feel.
In the midst of all of this, I had signed up for a 12-week writing intensive program. It has been a tremendous gift to me right now. When I look at the statistics from my Ultrahuman Ring, my heart rate decreases whenever I am writing. I don’t really need a fitness ring to tell me such things. I can feel it. I will probably be sharing some things on here because I’m a dummy and never think of money. Most of the things I write can be submitted here or there, but I just want to share the things I write. It might not be possible to get my brain to shift to “oh, I could get paid for this.”
Over the next week, I will also be making my first trip to Spearfish, South Dakota. I’ll actually be staying about 25 minutes away and right on top of a plethora of hiking trails. The trip was booked last November as a time to get away in October during the worst part of the year, mentally, for me. I seriously considered canceling the trip, but everyone has told me no. It’s needed even more now. Thankfully, David and Aunt Elaine will take over my duties concerning Mom during this time so I can unplug and recharge.
While I have made a list of trails I want to hike, I’ve left my days open to interpretation. I can hike, write, sit by a stream, rent a bicycle, or whatever else comes to mind in the moment.
I’ve written the next three episodes of my podcast, but I won’t be able to get them recorded and out until Oct. 23. Conner and I have recorded 30 episodes, so if you’ve never listened before and you want to hear a couple of dorks talking about the history of where they live, now is a good time to start.
Of course, Monkey is going with me, so expect a post from him in the next week or so. I wish you all the best and thank you again, for all the kind words and thoughts.