Thank you so much for all for the amazingly heartfelt responses regarding my last post. I really can’t explain in words how nice it is to have you share your own experiences, or just send us some good energy. Really, thank you.

We have been laying a bit low and trying to enjoy the little things from day to day. Some days I just want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head, or maybe get lost in a book for 14 hours straight, but thankfully I have this sweet lady to pull me back to reality.

(a picture of Lucy and I, looking happy, because this post is a little bit of a downer)

 
I try not to delve into really personal matters here on my blog too often, partly because I am a pretty private person in real life (sometimes my closest friends have trouble getting things out of me), and partly because I prefer for this blog to be a positive space. Not that my days are generally bad, but on the few days when I do feel like garbage, posting something thoughtless like the things I found in the thrift store, or the accumulated food images I took throughout the previous weeks helps me feel grounded. I like to keep things mostly lighthearted around here.

This is different. This is something I need to talk about, maybe to ask for well wishes, possibly just to get the ton of bricks off my chest, or perhaps to shed some light or connect with those who have been through something similar.

About three months ago one of the people I consider closest to me was diagnosed as a schizophrenic. It wasn’t a shock, but it definitely was hard to hear. The illness runs in the family. I think those closest to this person were in denial about how bad she had become. She, and those around her, really pride themselves in being odd or different, so even when she talked about life in other realms, it only seemed like an extension of the kooky behavior she inherited and was such a commonplace in her life. There was a breaking point though. The hallucinations got more intense and the behavior stranger. It all started to add up to me, and others around her. We could no longer brush off the weird and flaky behavior, this was a real problem that she had absolutely no control over.

Last week she made a serious attempt to take her life. It wasn’t the first, but it was the most serious. She was put in a hospital, then transferred to an institution for the better part of a week. She was released yesterday, and I all that I can hope is that the medication they prescribed her helps, she takes it, and she starts to see the immense value of her life.

The downward spiral has been heartbreaking to witness, especially when you realize that nothing you say or do can help. I can’t support her in any way financially, and being a few states away with a baby makes it tricky to even visit. All I can do is continue to offer my love. I really hope that is enough.

Russ and I both moved out of the suburbs nearly seven years ago when we moved out of our parent’s houses and first moved in together. After living in the city for only a short while I decided I was there to stay. Somewhere in the back of my mind I formed an opinion that I would never be one of those folks. You know the type, the ones that have 2.5 kids, move out of the city, buy a minivan, and start putting more pride in their children’s lives than their own. I apologize if this offends anyone, I am merely trying to paint a picture. Anyhow, I swore I would never be that person–I would never leave the city (unless of course I found the perfect place to live in the country, because ideally that is what I really want). All that is beginning to change for me.

Currently we are in a decent sized one bedroom apartment. It fits a crib as well as a baby changing station or dresser–but it is becoming quite cramped. It really isn’t made for a family with a baby. We could stay in our area, probably find something about the same size with two bedrooms and no extra space or amenities for a few extra hundred bucks, OR we could suck it up, realize we aren’t better than those who live outside the city and get a lot more for our money.

This has been my internal struggle the past few weeks. Originally we had planned on staying in this apartment until baby was a bit more mobile, but as we have gotten more and more stuff I realize how difficult it will be to stay. We really do need more space and can get a lot more for our money in the suburbs. Besides that we will be closer to family and Russ’ commute to work will significantly decrease. It really is in our best interest to move East, but for some reason I am having an incredibly hard time accepting it. It’s a big change, but one I think we are (almost) ready for. It is funny how having a baby can make you change your whole way of thinking.

Just a note: We really don’t think we are better than anyone, nor that living in the city is superior to suburban life. We are both just stuck on a certain way of life that living in the city has provided us.

These past few weeks have been crazy. I have been doing so much and seeing so many people that I have hardly had the time to sit back and catch my breath. Between my brother coming to stay for a few days, a friend in from Dublin, starting school, and some other big surprises, I really have felt quite out of it and not entirely myself. Russ and I seem to have gotten out of the habit of doing ‘things’ and have turned into even bigger homebodies than ever before.

In my (very little) spare time I have been working on painting. The class I am taking at school is another painting course, so I have lots of time every week, both at home and at school, to work on my paintings.

Somehow through all the madness Russ took a day off from work so we could go to the Del Mar races. Here is a snapshot from before the races started.

Currently I am trying to get back in the swing of things. I have ignored my garden for quite a bit, and it really needs some tending to. I have put off baking bread for several weeks, and greatly miss the smell of fresh bread filling the house. I also need to get back in the habit of cooking our own meals. We have been getting take out several times a week just because it is so easy. Hopefully in the coming weeks I can start to get my life back to a more normal state.

Sorry about the lack of posts this past week. We have had ongoing internet issues, which we just finally got fixed today.  I have a lot of catching up to do now, since it has been over a week since I was able to access my blog feeder. I have almost 500 blog posts in there to go through.

Well today is Cinco de Mayo which means in San Diego; do NOT drive after dark. Every bro dude will be running around town with an over sized sombrero, flashing light necklaces, a belly full of Coronas, and ankle deep in tequila shots. If it wasn’t a holiday, I don’t know if I would remember that today is six years to the day that Russ and I met. As much as I hate going out on this holiday because of the scenario I described above, we DID meet at a bar, both celebrating Cinco de Mayo.

I was 21 and accompanied by my 19 year old best friend (I know, naughty us!), and we wanted to go have some drinks. We weren’t looking to meet anyone, and took a back booth at our favorite dive bar. It wasn’t until I went up to order a drink at the bar (Sharise stayed behind, because we didn’t want them to ask for her ID), that I noticed Russ sitting at the bar with a group of friends. He started talking to me as I waited to be served. I brought our drinks back to the table but wanted to go talk to him some more. Because I was driving I knew I couldn’t keep ordering cocktails, so I went up and ordered water, many times, once or twice even pouring out the water just so I could go back and order another–and talk to the cute guy at the bar.

Well after a little while we quit playing that game, and Sharise and I joined their party, and we ended up talking for most of the night. Toward the end of the evening as we were getting ready to go Russ told me that his friends had left without him, and since we had already found out he lived close to Sharise and I, I offered to give him a ride home. It wasn’t until about a year or two ago that Russ admitted that he had lied to me and his friends where actually waiting for him in their car, he just wanted to get a chance to spend a bit more time with me and get my number! What a sneaky guy.

So that is our silly story. Happy Cinco de Mayo everyone!