Write, Edit, Record, Produce!

 Every other Monday, I'm recording and publishing a podcast that's just a story that I'm writing.

I'm a book editor and I consider myself a good critic of books and stories in general, so it's with some authority that I say: it's not great!

But it's getting better, and it's getting easier, and that's what I'm aiming for!

Like many adults, I struggle with the idea of taking something creative and making it public. When it's in the world, it's out there, available for just anyone to look at! This must be something that creeps into our brains as adults, because half of the time when I ask my kids what they want to be when they grow up, they say they want to have Youtube channels! (We actually already have 2, each with one solitary video!)

So I'm not giving myself the chance to second-guess. I write, edit, record, and produce. Which racks my nerves to no small degree, but I know that if I were to say, "Well, let me just make sure it's perfect," then I would end up going in the same circle of editing something to death, and then moving onto another project because the current one isn't getting me anywhere.

And today is that every other Monday!

How will I look back on this podcast later on?

It might make me cringe in embarrassment! Or it might make me reminisce, think about how rough my stories were, like some grand artiste looking back at stick figures that they proudly stuck up onto the fridge.

No matter where this goes, the Internet is my fridge, and this story is my stick figure. Even if I'm the only one who ends up appreciating it, I'll be proud of my courage.

And hey, I'm getting pretty good at drawing these stick figures.

Oh. Well... keep it up.

The last five years, conditions in my head have only gotten worse.

Yesterday, I was in a really bad mood, but determined to have a good attitude.

I did well. I baked a cake in the shape of a bear with Echo, I took Daniel to play at Eli's house, I went on a walk with Crash, I went sledding with all three of them.

But I was so fed up at the end of it, because through it all, they were fighting, complaining, bickering, trying to get each other in trouble.

At bedtime, I told Crash to clean up pillows he'd left in the doorway, and he threw himself dramatically on his bed and wailed.

I went downstairs, muttering "fuck fuck fuck" under my breath, my heart pounding, my breath coming short and painfully.

I took THC, and it didn't help.

I sat and relaxed.

I slept for nine hours last night.

And I woke up today, tired, angry, and stressed.

And now I'm at it again. My kids are fighting, my kids are complaining at me for things I can't help with, and I'm already fed up with the day after an hour and a half of being awake.

I'm not doing well.

Sledding down the backyard hill!

Playing at Eli's house, sliding through frosted grass!

Baking a bear cake with Echo!

I read a comic yesterday, where a guy is talking to his brain.

"Hey little buddy, how are you coping?"

And the brain, with little cartoon eyes that look haunted replies, "Unsustainably."

And the guy just says, "Oh. Well... keep it up."

And I laughed at that comic so much, because truly, that's how I am. I'm coping, I'm doing my best, but things are only getting worse, getting harder to deal with. But what else can I do? Keep it up.

A weekend of COVID and crossbows!

 The news from the therapist was: that's not how stress usually works.

Cortisol (the stress hormone) is the sort of thing that rises rather than spikes, so she mentioned that my condition resembles more PTSD than normal stress. So, for what it's worth, when I said I'd look back at this part of my life and feel trauma, turns out it's happening faster than I thought!

Aside from that, the session really didn't seem to go anywhere. We read through a nice little document together about how to reduce stress, through breaking up large projects, using checklists, avoiding distractions, and accepting progress over perfection. These are all things I'm good at! Man, can you imagine if I were to allow more stress in from the sides?

True, I have started listening to the news again, but I feel like it's my duty to be aware of how the country is terribly consolidating power in the executive branch, where one of the worst people in the world is doing everything he can to worsen the world. Tariff wars, increasing fossil fuel generation, pulling out of the Paris Agreement, criminalizing DEI, outlawing transgenderism... we're headed to hell in a handbasket, and the least I can do is pay attention.

It was a not-good weekend. I tested positive for COVID on Friday, and just couldn't get comfortable or relax at all. I played videogames while the boys just overwhelmed Jessi. Funny enough, they created a homemade crossbow that works! And they shot a hole through awall!

Daniel's getting into Monopoly, and it's really exciting to see him be such a good sport! Our house is coming up with its own house rules. How I remember playing, houses could be bought and sold for the same price. Now, they can be sold for half price, but to unmortgage a property, you just need to pay back the money you got from mortgaging it!

Anyways, it's Monday. I've finished my latest book to edit, and I've got two more to beta read. I'm going to try and relax, focus on feeling better! But we'll see how well I can do it.

I hope I get out of this brain fog. After my first run with COVID, I felt like my brain fog lasted for months. I just feel distant from my own mind, and it's unpleasant to feel and know that I'm working at only like 40% efficiency!

A year against stress

2025. This year, I'm going all Global Thermonuclear War on my stress.

2025 Stress Battle - 1

 So, after my last post crying into a blog post, I made an appointment with my therapist, who I saw yesterday.

It was a weird experience, because I was feeling rather fine yesterday, but I knew I needed to be a good advocate for me in my dark times, so I read aloud the previous blog post, and it did the trick!

Here are some takeaways:

- Some more structure with my kids would help on the day-to-day

- I started to stress about money because money can be turned into time and energy

- Jessi is awesome and my therapist loves hearing me talk about how great she is

- Telling my therapist "my views on gender and masculinity are hella evolved" does not immediately impress her

- She is more than willing to look into medication, but she'd like to try other things first

- There's a kind of ADHD that just stunts emotional responses?

I think my brain has just spent five years reinforcing a constant stress response. So even after my kids are in school, and my brain isn't going up in sad flames, when I'm introduced to a stressful situation, it knows what to do: freak out and make things worse.

I have better control over my stress response, but it's exhausting to make myself express a certain way, to act calm when I'm angry, to play the referee when I just need to be left alone. And that's what's burning me out.

I don't know how I can get my brain to follow a different path. I've got another session with my therapist, Andi, in a couple weeks.

The good news is, my life is more than just stress! I do fun things, I promise, even with a brain that kind of sucks sometimes!

Got to see Tortilla in person and the house that I built for her!

Went sledding at our local hill! (I love this sign.)

Working out four times a week!

The boys have been playing Scrabble! Daniel loves it!

Made apple crisp! (And a la moded it!)

Five years of chronic painful stress (and counting!)

 I remember when it started getting bad.

December 2019, I found an excuse to get out of the house, for half an hour. I drove out, I met with some friends, and for some reason, my stomach hurt. It was the first time that stress had lingered on me. I wasn't in a stressful situation anymore. I was out of my kids' earshot, they couldn't call to me anymore.

I went home, and I asked for help. I talked to a therapist. I tried to make a plan.

But after five years, it's clear I have chronic stress. I haven't felt well-rested since then. I have been able to leave stressful situations and feel good, but when I return home to my children, the familiar stress comes back.

Sometimes it's my stomach. Sometimes it's my chest, feeling tight. Sometimes I'll just cry, unprovoked.

I am burnt out and still running myself raw, to the point where I feel like I'm going to look back at this part of my life and feel trauma.

The other day, I helped a new neighbor move, bringing three new kids to our little cousin cult compound. During the move, she asked me why we never went out with them to concerts. I told her that it cost money, and that we don't have people to look after the kids. Meanwhile, her three kids were at the zoo, being taken by their new grandmother, along with the other three step-siblings.

I'm trying to put all my thoughts down before they can fester in my brain, and they're not good thoughts.

For five years, I have made no secret of my stress, of how it hurts me, of how I need help. I know that it's my problem to solve, but I'm burnt out. I've been burnt out.

But I can't keep asking for help when nothing seems to work. Asking my brother for a favor, getting a night off, and coming back only to feel stressed again, it's not fair.

We make enough money to pay the bills and be comfortable, but we don't have the kind of money to spend on babysitters and concerts and housecleaners and summer camps.

And besides all the money, we just don't have the energy. I see my boys' cousins going to clubs, being a part of the scouts, playing soccer, and it leaves me with only guilt, because it feels like we just can't afford this, in money, time, or energy.

Every day, when our kids are upstairs, Jessi and I are wiped out. We've both got burnout, and we can't seem to gain ground. We just don't have any energy left in the day.

And I can feel anxiety creeping in. The kids go to school, but even when I sleep all day, I don't get any energy back. Even when I look for editing work, I can't find any. Even with time away from my kids, I'm still unhealthy, I'm still stressed, and everyone knows.

I feel like we're barely managing our kids' behavior, but they still fight, bicker, and argue. We're spent. We're running on no energy. I've been struggling with chronic stress for five years now, and there's no end in sight.

I feel unsupported, and I feel hopeless that any support now could heal the last five years. I feel guilty that my wonderful kids deserve a healthy dad who can keep himself together, but instead they've got me.