How I’m Really Doing (Cookie Monster Strikes Again)

WARNING: this post contains profanity and over eating of cookies. But this is a no shame zone – so if you’re going to feel the need to shame me for swearing or over eating, then kindly and politely move on.

Many have asked how we’re doing. How I’m doing…through this tough time with Noah…well here’s the real deal. The real, ‘how I’m doing’ answer.

Here’s the thing, the #worldstoughestjob requires caffeine. And this is some of my favorite kind of caffeine. Last night, after coaching, solving, peacekeeping, feeding, driving and loving (just to name a few) – it was time to write. I have lots going on in this head and it’s getting crowded up in there.

I was up late, too late, emptying some thoughts onto paper when all this emotion overcame me. This is when I get most real with my emotions, when I’m writing. So I baked some pre-made cookies. Yes I did.

And I ate them. ALL of them.

Yes, I know. I’m on this path to a healthier mind and body. But sometimes indulgence takes over. I’m human. Imperfect. And enough. But I still love warm cookies straight from the oven. Even if not made from scratch.

Sooo then I’m checking in with my sister from a other mister. A good friend who knows just what to say and when I need to hear it. Plus, she’s really good at this accepting me for who I am business. Remember my post from several months ago, #LessJudgingMoreLoving. That. She does that.

I always try to be real, authentic. Let you see behind the curtain so to speak. Well…here is a glimpse

Behind the curtain. A view of how I’m REALLY doing.

This is an excerpt from the email to my friend last night:

As for me…I just made 8 sugar cookies (those pillsbury pre made dough ones) and ate them. All of them. So yeah. That. I totally owned it the whole time. Even had to pick up strawberries to get to the package in the fridge. And I was like…Awwww fuck it. Nom nom nom. 

 C O O K I E  M O N S T E R

 Yeah…I’m writing about this too. 

 What the fuck. I’m writing about everything. 

 I’m exhausted. I don’t really want to talk to anyone. I’m tired of it all. I’m worried. I’m scared. I’m peaceful. I’m anxious. I’m full. Must be the cookies? 

 Weird. 

 So there’s that. 

Peace, love hugs and cookies. No. Not cookies.

So yeah. I ate all the cookies. Surpassed the healthier choice. Because I wanted to. Because I felt I needed to. And for the record, the cookies were fantastic. Delicious. I’m busy over here trying to follow my own rules of a NO SHAME ZONE. But it’s hard.

The thing is, we’re in our fourth week of psychiatric treatment for my N. He’s 11 and all full of amazingness, but doesn’t see it. He’s progressing. He’s improving. He’s surviving and fighting, but more on that in my next post (if you’re new here, you can catch up on this story by reading my last few blogs, starting here). It seems he has at least another 2 – 3 weeks of treatment ahead of him. And then he transitions back to school.

Honestly, I’m scared shitless about that. In the past he’s stated he doesn’t feel safe there. It is hard for him there. But we will figure it out. Step by step, moment by moment. But I can feel the anxiety building for me, anticipating that transition.

Lots of emotions building, as you can imagine. Thus the cookies.

More to come on this story…but before I sign off, I really want to thank all of you. Thank you for reading, thank you for thinking of us, praying, telling us you’re rooting for us and appreciate us.

YOU are appreciated. So thank you. All our love to you.

Oh…and to Pillsbury too.