Reflections

I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything. Maybe we’re from the same star.

Emery Allen

When I thought that Irishka had died, it brought some complicated feelings. I have been mourning her for about 2.5 years already. When the possibility of her death became real, I honestly didn’t know what to think, do, or feel. I watched my dad slowly die at the time, and he passed less than a week later - it still doesn’t feel real. Saying it was a bad week is an understatement.

Does this mean that she is alive? Yes, I am so grateful for that. I have no words to express it.

There is nothing else that is important. Still, it would be awesome if she could communicate better. I don’t bite.

That might be her only flaw. Well, other than she is not a prisoner of the dragon.

There was a giant hole in me that I never knew existed where Irina settled into. It felt warm 24/7. When she was gone, I could feel a massive, cold, empty hole that will persist, likely forever. If that is not a soulmate, what is?

I didn’t believe in the nebulous metaphysical concept of soulmates. The idea that there is a perfect person for someone seems spurious. After all, what are the odds that your soulmate would be born in proximity to you in both time and space? It is astronomical. Furthermore, both people would have to be in a position in their lives that they are looking for the other, lowering the considerably low odds even more. It seems that people would just click and assume that they are soulmates. Maybe if they lived elsewhere, they would meet someone even more compatible.

How could one objectively quantify a soulmate anyway?

Whatever, it doesn’t really matter now.

So, what now?

The weather is improving, so my mind shifts back to working on the yard and getting in better shape. Of course, those thoughts are pointless. That has just become a habit.

I did get some exercise equipment to help with core and upper body strength. My joints are doing well enough that I could make some gains if I can break out of this darkness. Even waking is exhausting and strong anxiety comes and goes. As soon as I get back to my and rest up, it is time to go back to my mom’s. Which is almost a pointless exercise.

When I am at my home, it doesn’t feel like mine. It is just a quiet place to get away from the crap that is now my life.

I am thinking of selling my house. Home prices have gone nuts here, and could easily sell it to someone with more money than sense and walk away with about $200k in profit. That would be more than enough to spend whatever years or decades are left in Southeast Asia, but I can not do that. Being able to do something that I want and would make me happy? Ha! That is not a thing.

Ragnar and I could travel between my mom’s and my kids until I run out the clock.

Ragnar won’t care as long as he is velcroed to me, which adds more stress. If he can’t see me, he has to know that I will return, or he freaks out. That means that he is always at my side or in my car. If I leave him in my car, he is fine. It seems that he knows I will return to it. If I leave him in the backyard, or with other people, he goes nuts. On my return, he is angry at me. He didn’t do it on purpose but once was so upset that I left for about 30 minutes that he jumped on top of my head and left a large gouge. He is quite the jumper.

That behavior needs the help of a professional trainer, but I can’t spare the time for that, because my time belongs to others. That makes me feel even more trapped. If I just want to get away to go fishing alone or see a movie or whatever, that can’t happen because Ragnar has severe separation anxiety.

He is a good dog, and I will not give him away. I believe that the reason for his anxiety is that he was abandoned several times to shelters. I won’t do that to him and am glad that I have him. It is not like I can’t understand how repeated bad things can negatively affect a creature. If I can get him over this, that would be great for both of us.

Dealing with all of my mom’s issues and trying to take care of this house is too much for just me. I can barely manage me and Ragnar. I see other people my age be able to reclaim their lives and move on to new things. For some reason, that is an impossibility. Everyone around me does what they want. I can not.

I am not going to sell my house for now, nor am I going to make any big decisions for a while. I guess I will continue to pointlessly work towards my goals. Not that meeting them will improve my life even a little, nor make life worth something.

It was foolish to believe that my life was mine. It never was and is always on other people’s terms.

Do I have a future? I guess so. I will wake up tomorrow. That means that there is a future, but it is not one that anyone would want. What else is new?

I have learned more about my sleep issues, which I will write about later, maybe. Other than that, I am trying to refocus my writing on programming topics, recipes, and exercise. I am focusing way too much on my pathetic self. Why should I care about myself? I have been trying to perfect a flour tortilla recipe, which is strangely challenging. They are very similar to standard pie dough, and I have never been great at that either. I think next week, I will have crumpets and General T’so recipes ready to post. Also working on wonton soup made with homemade wontons and also borscht.

For deserts, I have Key Lime Pie, both traditional and a more fresh version and something that I mastered decades ago but haven’t made in decades: cream puffs and éclairs. Of course, I need to add more healthy and light recipes from around the world. Sadly, one can not live well on simple carbs and fat.

I had fun writing about Halloween movies and God Bless America. I should do more of that.

It seems that learning that peace and contentment and control of my life are not things would help me with acceptance. It seems to do the opposite, so whatever. Enough