- 2 Larabars
- pulled pork salad from Qdoba (deeeelicious!)
- Trav's supper
Sleep: 8.25 hours in bed, 9p-515a, 89% quality. Dogs keep getting up early again.
Healthy Movement: Core feeling quite good - told Dustin I could try TGUs in session, but he skipped them. Left hamstring felt the best it's been since I tweaked it; I always gauge my progress by how it feels in Greatest Stretch, and there was NOTHING THERE. EEE! Then, pull-ups and deadlifts all kicked major ass. Great day!
Fun & Play: Much fun work at NSS. Liking the new guy. Loving my first-ever Qdoba meal: easily customized to things I could eat, and perfectly delicious. Fantabulous session with my smartass pal J, who also killed All The Deadlifts. Donated blood in Osakis; last time I was at OCC was to vote, and the woman at the door knew who I was & where I lived (I couldn't even remember her name) - this time, I walked in right behind my second cousin Stan. Love it! Supped with BK at Trav's before a good haircut. Hubs home again!
Supper with Brian was awesome. Feels like I haven't seen him in forever (Norseman, I think, thus almost 6 weeks ago), nor talked to him since he bailed on me (twice) three weeks ago - that has been very hard, given I used to talk to him near-daily when I was at TS, and before Kate took all his spare time. Plus, I've been missing him while not-running, making it twice as awful. But it was just like old times, as I made a conscious choice not to bring up the shittiness. It was great, just chitchat & catching up & running talk & much laughter. I love that boy like he's my brother, and I can't explain why, I just do. As we parted, I told him that it was really good to see him, and he said, "I know, I'm sorry" and I immediately told him I forgive him. Because I do, of course: I cannot hold grudges with my beloveds. I wish to always to assume the best of them, and believe in them, and love them, no matter what temporary crappiness they/we might go through.
Most of all, though, I feel so much relief. I was FLOODED with relief as I drove to my haircut, physically near tears, and then I fully realized just how worried I had been about him, that he was perhaps depressed and stuck alone and here I was, being a shitty, put-upon friend who assumed he would ask me for help if he needed it.
I've been listening to the Break the Stigma podcasts, and it's hitting me more and more that if he was depressed, no matter how many times I've been there for him and told him I always will be - odds are about 99.9% that he wouldn't have believed that, and wouldn't have reached out. I'm 20 minutes into a podcast that's two mothers discussing their sons who died of suicide (I can only take it in like 10- minute chunks, because it's the saddest thing ever), and it's being reinforced so clearly that depressed people do not ask for help. They don't believe they can, that anyone cares, that anyone would bother to help them, because they are worthless. It's pretty much always 100% wrong, but it's what they believe. It's so sad.
And so, honestly, I feel awful that I didn't keep trying to reach out to BK. He's fine, thankfully, but what if he wasn't, and I sat here feeling like he was being shitty, while he sat there, being depressed and thinking terrible things, and believing them? As I'm feeling relief that wasn't the case, I'm vowing to be more of a Melissa Bump, spreading love and hugs and telling all of my people, over and over, that they are wonderful and I love them. How can that ever be wrong?