Toes

I’m trying to side step all my vacation triggers this week.

Last year I was still a newbie to triggers, and it was a struggle…every single minute of every single day to just get through the day. I’ve gotten better, a little smarter, a little stronger, and I I’ve learned to deal. There are still hard days, and still days I stumble upon one, and am like “Shit!! I didn’t see that one coming!!” but most days I can step around them.

In my house, my home, my ordinary life I know where all the triggers are. It’s like walking in the dark to the bathroom, I know where the dresser is, Laney’s scattered toys, and the trunk at the foot of our bed. I can make it without stubbing a toe or hitting my shin, no problem. I know how to get out of my bedroom in the morning to get a cup of coffee without waking anyone up, don’t hit the creaky board in front of our door or a sleeping Lou will be up, my morning silence broken. At the beach house I keep finding myself with a throbbing toe, and bruised shin, I’m still trying to find my way in the dark here. I’m stepping on every creaky board, and it’s waking the voices in my head.

I love the beach house, sandy beaches and sound of the waves, but the triggers suck. I keep finding myself drifting out of the sunshine and into the shadows. I’m hoping I can hurry up and figure out which boards are squeaking and fix them, or just rip them out and replace them with new. I’d like my triggers gone and my toes in the sand for the rest of my vacation, and I’d rather do it without having to drown them out with rum and vodka. Last year that method got me one hell of a sunburn.

I’m going to apply some extra sunscreen just in case.

“I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand
Life is good today. Life is good today.”

-Zac Brown Band-

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3 Responses to Toes

  1. brokenjoan says:

    Kelly, like the song says,”put your toes in the water & your ass in the sand.” Try to enjoy yourself & remember drink responsibly! LOL!!! Hugs from Joan

  2. horsesrcumin says:

    Oh, the comfort of vodka and rum! I have those moments at our lake house, or the brothel, too, those bury yourself in the bottom of a bottle moments – not often, but it happens, to try to hide by wrapping your poor, broken self in the warmth of the fuzz, lol – don’t know why it’s worse there, they fucked in my real house, too. In fact they fucked everywhere. Only place I know they didn’t is in MY car, because it is only two years old!

    Hang in there, enjoy, sip quietly if you have to at all, you and I know that there is no comfort at the bottom of that bottle anymore – if there ever was.

  3. Don’t fight it. Just let the pain seep in and then move on. I’ve always found that going with the current is much easier than fighting it. Once you let it in, your mind knows there’s no battle and settles down. Best wishes!

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