Will I feel this way until the day I die. (This isn't really a question as there's no proper punctuation, is there?)

Today is still the crushing ennui mixed with a low-grade panic to run, peppered with the seeds of self-doubt as the anxiety ebbs and flows just enough to leave me questioning everything again, but also since I don't care I'll just continue on. I still feel like if something out of character occurs or any wrench is thrown into the gears I will lose my shit but otherwise it's all just okay. The gratitude is present, just behind and underneath the grace, as always and the sun has come out for a while to warm our hair while we start gardening and maybe don't talk quite so much. That can wait for the rainy days, or the days we work closely together in a quiet environment and for now it's good just to exhaust our muscles and bones, allowing our blood to drown both in a pulsing river of activity and effort. 

That's a mouthful, Lochlan says thoughtfully. He's impressed that the Devil is far but dismayed to find the ghosts so close. Is it better the other way around? I don't think so but then again, it depends on the day. It depends on the day and the bravery of our dear Princess. 

Sometimes I can handle either or both. Sometimes I can't manage breathing and opening my eyes at the same time. 

Sleep would help. Some restorative adventure would help. Some less-frightening alone time would help. I was ridiculously worried that everything would go to shit while the boys were away and that's carried over and I haven't quite let go of it yet but I will. I made my list. I did my breathing. I'm trying to keep up with all of my tasks to help myself and yet it feels so solitary and overwhelming I'm not sure how to proceed half the time so I just plow ahead even when it feels yucky or weird. It's akin to the feeling in the Prairies when the boys had moved already and I stayed behind to finish the sale of the castle and pack our most precious things. And I'd sit in the garage and sing along with the CD player and wish I was anywhere or anyone else. 

Sam says that Lochlan is the anchor but Jake was the rudder. 

Why can't you be the rudder now?

I'm trying but you fight me at every turn.

Me too, Pooh.

Everyone is home safe and sound, just in time before the wind ripped the sky off and blew our brains out, leaving them to be diluted in puddles of torrential rain. I'm rarely afraid, listening to the wind, thanks to growing up in the land of hurricanes (Maritimes) and then living in the Prairies where the storms were as fierce as the flatness of the land. Here the big wild storms are somewhat muted in comparison, but this one was such a banger I yelled at Schuyler for not latching their gate, so I listened to it bang against the fence until at least four in the morning, when I finally fell asleep and I also counted the shingles on all the houses and garage and outbuildings this morning, as you just never know when a storm is going to result in a call to the insurance adjuster. Last time we got a new roof. This time all is well. I will check attics in a month or two, as is my seasonal routine. 

So I don't think it was the storm as much as it was my latent anxiety about everyone returning before the storm began. The plane was on time (a first) and the mood was tired and so everyone is sleeping in this morning. It's almost noon. Lochlan was just happy to be home, I think. Happy I didn't look to the devil for comfort or company and instead used Dalton and PJ like big brothers. I traded off orders to get food and we watched a ton of movies and gained weight and we caught up on the chores and some more spring cleaning and we're ready to roll, I think, or close to it. 

I'm having more tiny flashes of anxiety but it seems liveable. I think I am predisposed to suggestion and so when the doctor pointed out I can increase if shit goes south I instantly started waiting for that to happen. Has it? Maybe a bit. Or I am metabolizing it really quickly even though it's supposed to be an extended-release sort of medication. Either way they won't need to get the tranquilizer gun out for me but they should still put their shoes on and linger near the door, just in case. 

Jake laughs when I say that. He remembers this feeling well.

Gale.

Today is a quiet day. I'm working on sanding and painting a little cabinet with a glass door that I found at a junk shop. I'm painting it white and I'm going to keep my crystals in it. It's not actually little but it will still fit nicely on the shelf by the window going up the front staircase and it will keep things more secure. 

Ruth and her fiance came by on their way home from an appointment. They stayed for half an hour and played with the dog while they tried to cement their plans for the remainder of the day. I felt vaguely obtunded and dull. I didn't sleep well last night at all. I couldn't get warm. The dog wouldn't stay put. I've already added a blanket under my pillow that I can wrap up in if it happens tonight again. 

The rain is supposed to start in earnest in the next two hours. So excited for a dark stormy day. I'm going to finish Red Dot and maybe start the House of the Witch. Apparently it's leaving Netflix soon so I need to figure it out. 

Hanging out with the dog. By myself. Henry's asleep. Haven't see the Devil yet. Dalton is here keeping an eye and everyone else is out. The wind just picked up like crazy. I guess the storm arrived sooner than I thought it would. 

*Yawn*

Today I bought another gazebo and a privacy trellis for the guest garden suite so that if someone ventures outside they aren't in full view of the driveway since it wraps around now and then I let Daniel cut off all my hair for me into a cute little shaggy pixie that made me weirdly happy. I have very expressive features and a very small head and I grew out my hair over most of last year and hated it long even though I always say I'm going to grow it long it's such a hassle and it's thick and heavy and I wanted it just...off. Daniel did a great job and I gave him a huge tip too. Mostly I was stalling because I don't want to put the gazebo together at all and I just want to materialize but we will work on it next weekend maybe. That will be fun. 

In the meantime tomorrow is a rare day. We're supposed to have rain and wind and Dalton and I both drew the laundry card so we will fold the laundry and get it all done and returned to the right rooms and catch up. Nothing else needs to be done. We're way ahead overall for spring by many weeks. I even got my potato seedlings to plant in a few weeks. Normally I'm not even thinking of any of this until my birthday. 

Loch and Henry went out and picked up Japanese food for dinner. We had tofu yakisoba and gyoza and spicy chicken while we watched Moonfall. Gosh, it was so exciting and so pretty. I loved it. Would have watched it all night but tomorrow there are things to be done so everyone needs an early turn-in. The boys have a project (sadly not the other gazebo) and I am going to play ghosthunter. In my pajamas because I won't be going outside. 

But first, a good nights sleep.

Daydreaming about running away.

Found a house on Purplebricks tonight and it's only around eight hundred thousand pounds. It's in Bodmin, a four-hour drive west from London and it looks like a pretty place. I could be invisible anywhere, truth be told, as long as I know where to get things like..wait, nevermind. Watch batteries, vacuum belts and kids' snowsuits used to be the triple-threat, once I knew where to buy those things in a new city I had it all figured out. 

Now there's Amazon and forty other online places and the internet so it's not so hard to find what I need. 

This is a four-bedroom rural two-story with greenhouses and a sunroom and a kitchen with a very big aga stove and it looks bright and quiet and peaceful. It looks nice. No imposing historical architecture, no glaring modern twists, just a slightly shabby and light-filled home that is cheap, probably because of the location. It might be a little too invisible and so I will resume my search. I still think if I'm going to do this is should be an island so I can literally as well as metaphorically cut myself off from the world proper, misanthrope as I am, and live out my days knitting by the sea, death metal in my headphones, heartbreak in my bones. 

The Devil hovers, hungry as if for a bone, soaked by the blood of the past, baptized by the rain at present, unsure of a certain future. If I show him this house he'll just buy it and keep it, just in case. He's done that before. So I won't say too much about it and I'll come back to it in a few weeks and decide then.

Potatoes are starchy gold. Fight me.

Right in my face and I didn't even see him come out. He put his hands on the arms of the patio chair I was curled up in, brought his head down until we were nose to nose and smiled bitterly at me. 

You can't..stop me from loving you. That's what my life is devoted to, Neamhchiontach. 

Then Caleb pushed off from the arms of my chair and walked quickly back inside. 

Tell us how you really feel. Lochlan yells toward the house with the chuckle and I shoot him a look that shuts him up. We're no longer allowed to bully or roast anyone when they're struggling, no matter with what. 

Peanut-

That counts and now you need to apologize. 

If I go chasing after him he's going to think I'm just being possessive and he's going to go on the defensive. 

Then text him. 

Fine. Lochlan studies his phone for a minute, sends a message and then tosses his phone on the table. 

Better, Princess?

Oh, you're in a mood tonight. 

The Devil just came outside and tried to ruffle our feathers and you want me to not be in a mood?

Right. I don't. 

The next thing you say better not be that he's harmless. 

I shake my head. It wasn't going to be. We know that better than anyone. I just want to change the subject. 

You just want to live on your potato farm by the sea. 

I do. 

That's a wonderful goal, Bridgie. I wouldn't have expected it from you. 

What did you expect? 

I figured you would get stars in your eyes from all of the trips and gifts and I'd become the brunt of jokes for a completely different reason than he has.

I still get the gifts and the trips and the stars though.

Yeah, not sure how you pulled that one off. 

I learned from a master thief. 

That's grifter. I just take opportunities. Not stuff. 

Is it diff-

It is. 

Honest? It's boring.

A huge victory for me in that I've earned another three months at my current dosages, as it's working and it's 90% miracle, 10% doubt at this point but also my doctors are loathe to fuck with it, lest it trigger a return of the narcolepsy. Mine comes and goes depending on the rest I do get, stress levels and of course medication and so I try and manage it but it still gets the best of me and I'll have several months of fighting just to get through a sentence and then other times I feel like I could make it through the week without a single bout, but since it's a lifelong chronic condition I'm happy just to keep it quashed as far down as I can and no one wants to wake the beast, so yay? 

Yay. 

(Because I won't take those drugs. they've tried but I'd rather fall asleep than run at a million miles an hour.)

I was gifted a three-month bottle of pills and now I'm good.These ones keep me from being nervous about every little thing and they keep me from finding my ghosts. I'm pretty sure those two things are closely related but what isn't? In any case it's really nice to watch Lochlan take good care of me. We cook for everyone, we spend a lot of time checking for the first signs of life in the garden, we beachcomb for hours at a time. I am not allowed on my computer, someone opens a window for me. No email, no news anymore, no nothing. It's lovely. I paint and I sculpt and I take a lot of long walks, some fast, some slow, I keep my hands to myself, stay wedged in between Ben and Lochlan most of the time now and I feel like maybe that's why Jake isn't around right now, because he doesn't have to watch over me because I've stopped running. Stopped letting the Devil love me, stopped looking for Jake or Cole, stopped crying, stopped feeling, stopped breathing so hard, stopped wishing I could go at least halfway but not the whole way (just enough to see), stopped being Hard To Manage. 

Lochlan's having a good vacation. I am easier. Things are great. 

The problem is, and this is what I keep telling everyone, it's not default. This isn't the way things are or they would already be this way. This is my artificial pharmaceutical dreamscape and it ends when I get to the bottom of the bottle or whenever they change the dose and I won't even remember to care that I was busy looking for Jake before they distracted me with these pills. At least I can do that now. Care, not look, I mean.

But the boys deserve a break and so I'm trying to give it to them. 

And I am no longer unique or special.  

Fuck me.

Rain drops and last rites.

This morning I am ticking off my list. I fixed the Keurig. I fixed the CD changer in the vintage Jeep. I fixed the vacuum and I fixed my face a little. We went for a walk and saw a dead robin. She was pale and powerless, just off the walking path way up the hill on the school road. I wanted to collect her and give her a proper safe burial underneath the hemlocks where the roses grow unchecked but Lochlan wouldn't let me touch her. I'll go back later when he is busy and I'll wrap her in the Chanel scarf I hate and she can be buried it in. She deserves better than to be left at the side of the road.

The rain stopped but it won't be replaced by the sun. The landscapers were here to drop off a fresh mountain of soil for the gardens and I'm really not sure if I should get out my gloves and shovels or run to the store and get some toy trucks so we can play in it first. Maybe both. Play and then work, which is never how I do a thing, now, is it?

We're going to cook tonight. The weekend is over. Cinderella turns back into a mouse or however it was that that works and routine returns to the point after a brief respite from everything. My medication is being doubled, starting this week and I may miss it all anyway.

We ate outside tonight. First patio dinner of the season. I did not find all the chairs yet.

Sunday night and I'm sitting on Lochlan's knee at the corner of the big glass patio table eating nachos from our favourite Mexican restaurant with extra jalapenos, licking my iodine-stained* fingers and reading guitar reviews out loud from the musical instrument shop we frequent. 

My favourite was for a Jimmy Page edition double-necked epiphone: 

Pros: Stairway!!

Cons: This is heavy!

(Most people try to sound cool or nonchalant when they're writing reviews. This was the first one that was just straight-up honest.)

(*I lost a fight I didn't know I was in, against some surprisingly sharp picture-frame glass from the early eigthies. Almost severed my damn fingers.)

Tiny lessons.

Dear Future Self: Always check and make sure your locking nut key is in your Jeep when you leave a repair shop. Fate woke me at three am and I tossed and turned and woke up at six and went out to check and SURE ENOUGH it wasn't there. 

Big Sigh. 

Called the shop and they had it (a BLESSED MIRACLE, I SAY) and so I took another vehicle in for service when I picked it up, this time in and out in a cool thirty-five minutes and now I've paid my dues to the universe and I'm fucking done for the week. The madness continues but the will does not. It's time to watch some horror movies and rest a little. It's Friday, Bitches and I did more before ten this morning than most people do in a month. 

(Yes, I checked the other truck for the key before I left the lot. HAHAHA I'm not STUPID, right?)

Texas Chainsaw weekend for me. Bye.