Enjoy. Each. Moment.

Sanctuary

Whenever my husband tells me he and his kids are going on a trip my heart lights up for many reasons, but the main one is that I will have the house to myself. Now, I must acknowledge I get most Mondays to myself as well as that day he goes to Marin to visit his mom and then follows up with afternoon with kids and grandson, so yes, I do get that day most of the time. But! A trip involves multiple days strung together of potential solitude. I love my husband to my core. That being said, the thing I also truly love to my core is time to MYSELF. The reasons are voluminous.

When I am home by myself, I get to indulge in the selfish joy of waking and sleeping whenever I feel like it. I can bask in the quiet, or I can blast whatever music sounds appealing in the moment. I can talk to myself without feeling self-conscious. I can talk to the cats and sing them songs about my day (ok, true I do this when he is home, but the songs are much more elaborate when I know I am alone). I can eat whatever and whenever I want. Masturbate whenever I want. I can indulge in projects involving chemicals as the smells never bother me, so if I open windows for kitties, there are no complaints. I could go on, but you get my point. For whatever period, I am gifted with, I get to stop being a “woman.” I get to fully remove my mask of politeness, convenience, flexibility, accommodation, consideration of others, verbal filter, patience – basically all the things that I don’t mind doing – but remain exhausting for me after so many years of trying to fit in, be palatable to others.

I get to be MYSELF.

Historically this has guaranteed the occurrence of a couple of things. First, some elaborate painting and/or remodeling project that is super involved with both having to move things to other rooms and mass chemicals. Secondly, my intake of shitty food goes way up. Personal pepperoni pizzas w/extra cheese and garlic knots from Mountain Mike’s. Nachos from Taco Bell doctored up exactly how I like them. Fritos with either jalapeno cheese or spicy bean dip…or both. Chocolate and peanut butter in many glorious forms. Popcorn meticulously layered with butter and then whatever spice mix or Cholula hot sauce sprinkled on it as I both devour it and watch horror movies. I couldn’t calculate the amount of diet coke if I tried. Depending on length of trip pepper in a few breaks of sashimi or some yummy salad someone else made, with containers I can throw away. And the piece de resistance…a McDonalds sausage McMuffin with extra cheese and a chocolate chip cookie jammed in the middle to soften.

Your judgements mean nothing to me – all items are glorious!

This time, 9 days ago, I decided to challenge myself with something different. I created a 10-day cleanse and purge for both body and home and oh yes…it has had rules for the body part:

2 Huel protein drinks a day, giving me the calories needed for energy and the proper nutritional balance to keep body healthy.

1 bowl filled as high as I could manage without spilling, green grapes for when I sat down to read at the end of the day.

Tons of water – summer in Cloverdale – hydration is a must!

No diet cokes.

Also, for the body I got weighed the first day and took the time to record measurements from head to toe.

Regarding home? This part took some planning as the concept was to go from room to room and get organized, cleaning as I went and purging what was no longer needed either to free cart out front or back of truck for the dump. I also had ordered replacements of 3 of the kitty scratcher trees that were both not trashed and made sense for the space they were going to (the previous ones had moved locations a multitude of times with changes I was trying out). Closets were to be emptied and gone through and the bathroom in the hall which I gave a facelift at the beginning of the year was to finally have trim that has been in there properly adhered and door trim finished and painted. Most involved of course was to be going through our art studio, which one could no longer see the floor of and had to move things out of the way to get to anything needed. I must admit I also had grand plans of finishing composite tile in backyard, which has all the edges pieces that require custom cutting still needing to be done and I even threw in weeding the front yard, because, apparently, I continue to forget I am in my 50’s now and not my 30’s. Ambitious? Hell yes. But I have been me for over 50 years now and I need to be pushed hard to really engage, so I’m used to it.

I even made myself a colorful tri-fold board as if I was about to enter some random science fair and decked it out with all the motivational crap I could muster.  Call me a boy scout – because I was prepared! I even felt prideful at letting the fridge empty out as to not be tempted by random foods that when one is restricting their diet, suddenly become super desirable.

As my husband is a super early riser, the day of his trip he was out the door before 7am and I enjoyed lazily lying in bed until my alarm went off at 8. As I had prepared my attitude the night before for easing into my 10-day plan of awesomeness. Slow entry. 10 minutes in infrared sauna to loosen up the joints and get circulation going. My Rarebird RX coffee, which I have some to love with a little stevia and cinnamon. Morning journaling done, I dove in. Now, I wish I could say I had continued all days the same way, with the sauna time etc – that did not happen. What did happen however was getting a shit ton of stuff done and learning more about myself.

On the body side I have adhered 100% to both the 2 Huel protein drinks a day and my bowl of grapes for whilst I read. No I will admit the size of the tower of grapes soared pretty high, but as I did in fact manage to carry them without spillage it was all good. My cup of Rarebird Rx in the morning became almost as enjoyable as sex and on a random note here for those who are not yet familiar with it, Rarebird Coffee was designed for people with ADHD. As I am autistic and ADHD I figured it behooved me to give it a try and after almost 2 months – I have noticed easier focus and a complete lack of jitters as the caffeine is removed and PX is added in (you’ll have to look it up to understand what that means if so inclined. I made it to day 6 with no diet coke and on that front I folded. I have the most enjoyable and silly ritual of going to MacDonalds here in town armed with my $1.83 for a large coke and it brings me an incredible amount of joy. Not only do I get to say hello to humans outside of our home, but I then get to enjoy that fountain soda fascination of mine. Something about the cup and all the ice just makes me happy and I figure if in my sobriety that’s what it does for me, it’s a win. Plus, as my friend Sue pointed out, it’s calorie free so really who cares? Apparently not me. I have not stepped on the scale for 9 days and I admit I am looking forward to it tomorrow morning as I feel so much better and my clothes definitely feel loose. As much as this has felt really significant and wonderful, it was the work I did around the house that surprised me in all of its moments of introspection and calm.

As I made my way around the starting in the living room I found despite a fair amount of swearing at all the random crap laying around that forcing myself to go through everything and being alone, instead of snarky comments or hugs needed, I found myself reliving memories. Memories of the last 8ish years of living here with Brodie. I was recalling all the changes I have made both trying to create a vibe that fits us both while accruing things as funds became available, laughing at some of the MacGuverye’d projects I have done over the years in an attempt to make it feel like us. I took time to touch and sit in furniture we have acquired and smile that we finally have pieces we want to keep, that are decently, if not well made and will last for some time. I dusted artwork either made by us or purchased because its whimsy made us smile. I laughed thinking back to how I used to surprise Brodie with choices I had made hoping I had in fact chosen right for us both and how now a days I ask his opinion on what I have chosen before I purchase because I instinctually know we will have it for a long time and I want to share that point of connection with him. As I uncovered photos going back years of my family who are no longer alive (my 5 relatives I knew growing up, were all I knew) I both laughed and cried at how much I experienced over the years and how much I have learned since. I laughed out loud at the sheer volume of cat toys I found under furniture and how much it surprised me that so many little bits of color had been hidden out of sight in some spots for years, where the furries had lost them. I cried when I remembered the toys I had not seen since my 2 kitties before I met B had died in such close proximity to my mom, the last tethers of a prior life. Each room brought about its own treasures, laughter and swearing and then a few days ago the art studio, which at that point I could barely see any of the floor and had to literally move items out of the way so reach things I needed. This room was as always, the beast awaiting in the shadows. I knew before starting it would take more than one day and I was not wrong.

The first day of the art studio is a bit of a blur if I am honest as during the 10.5 hours, I spent working on it with a break for my first protein drink creation and a run for my beloved diet coke by the end of the day I was no longer walking straight. Between the having to remove so much simply for access to seeing it, the sorting, deciding how in such a small room to make sense of where things were to be stored and going through everything the hours flew by. But I must admit and more than any other room in the house – the studio is sacred to me. Despite its small size and awkward shape, it is literally a treasure trove of potential and the little girl in me would have literally sold her soul as a child to have even had access to such a room. Because this room is a visual reminder of how different I am from my parents, especially my mom, that I am. Every item holds the magic of potential. The sheer magnitude of color and texture oozing out of the room makes both my autistic self and artistic self, want to cry out with pleasure. I recognize that for most neurotypical people this room looks like a chaotic Tsunami about to unleash itself, but I was reminded how when I step in there everything in my brain that is always so loud and whirling about calms down to a soft rhythmic purr. I feel safe in this space. It all makes sense to me. For me, it is the perfect metaphor for what life is like. Colorful and messy. Brilliance and mistakes. Ready to pounce from every angle both high and low. But in this room as opposed to life, I can choose what to do with it, or rather to try with it. It is what freedom feels like. Freedom to make mistakes. Freedom to create beauty. Freedom to express what I am actually feeling, not what is expected of me or appropriate. Nothing I do in the studio needs to make sense. I realized that night as I gave myself permission to go rest, pick it up again the next day, that the feeling the studio gives me is what I have been seeking my whole life, and it is available to me anytime I need it as it is ours.

As I sat down to watch an old episode of Grimm, protein drink #2 in hand, eyes still blurry from exhaustion, I also realized I was excited about working on it again the next day. Sure, the room itself was almost done, but of course the piles that had migrated to other rooms for relocation still needed to be dealt with. The tedious bits leftover. What surprised me was that it didn’t feel like a burden in the slightest. What I realized on day 6 of this grand experiment was that I was enjoying the process immensely. Every. Damn. Moment. I will also admit having this epiphany of sort made the next couple of days fly by. As Brodie had let me know a couple days before he would be arriving home a day early, I had to come up with an adjusted plan to have a visually pleasing stopping point for my own sanity, the house overall would look welcoming, and the leftover stuff was for the most part either garage or backyard related. It always makes me laugh a bit and I enjoy being proven wrong when it comes to projects like this. I had put the body and house together because I knew I needed to be busy for any chance at success with the dietary changes. I had erroneously assumed the purging and organizing of the house would be tedious and lame, but when done I would be more relaxed so it would be worth it. As day 10 is starting to wind down, it was absolutely worth every moment of it. What is making me smile as I write this, however, is that what is bringing me the greatest joy is that instead of numbing out of my life as I have done historically, instead I dove in unarmored to sort through and deal with our home. No delightful junk food to help make me sleepy and want to nap. As holding onto my sobriety remains a paramount endeavor for me, not once did it even dawn on me that I wanted a drink. In this literal shitshow of a time the United States, our current home is going through, I didn’t want to escape once. It feels so cliched to say it but dealing with our own crap and making sense of that was enough. I not only felt empowered, but I also felt genuine joy. Plus, I learned an incredibly valuable lesson for myself going forward. When it starts to get too loud, as it often does. When the ridiculousness of our foolish president makes me want to literally rip out my hair and scream. There is tucked away in our home, a small and awkwardly shaped room, that is a sanctuary for me that is always at hand and ready to remind me that color and joy are but an idea away and easily within reach.