I got stuck

The last couple of weeks have actually marked a return to greater functionality as my shoulder continues to heal, and for the record, it is healing well. That alone feels like progress.

I have also found myself lost in new Fallout content. I have never really understood the rush to finish new content immediately. There is usually plenty to keep someone occupied for days. That said, I still feel compelled to complete it all.

The new content does not disappoint. There are bugs, and as Bethesda and Microsoft like to say, they are features. Anyone who has played Fallout 76 for any length of time understands the game’s buggy beginnings. At one point it was so unstable that I stepped away for nearly six months. Solo play was difficult, and without a community, it felt like fighting the game itself as much as the enemies.

In the middle of all that, the new season of Fallout dropped on Amazon Prime. The episodes are being released weekly this time. I will avoid spoilers, but the first episode answered just enough questions to keep me watching.

This post took several false starts. Sometimes it feels better to say something imperfect than to say nothing at all. Either way, here we are heading into Christmas and New Year’s.

This time of year has always brought mixed feelings. Years spent in healthcare and the Army often meant working through the holidays. Even when I was available, it never felt particularly magical. It was just different.

The past few years have felt especially odd. There has been a noticeable absence of people in my life. I have come to realize that I played a role in that. Reflection over the last couple of years has been uncomfortable but necessary.

Much of this exists in the shadow of domestic abuse. Years of abuse change a person in ways that are hard to explain.

The first change is constant apologizing. It is a trauma response rooted in believing the abuse was your fault. I work on it, but it remains.

The second is the lingering disbelief that it is truly over. Trust has been difficult to rebuild, and neediness is something I am still learning to manage.

The third is how often I return to the past. I know it can be uncomfortable for others. I am trying to learn how to be present without reliving trauma out loud.

All of this contributes to feeling unlikable at times. I understand why it can be difficult for others, even though the isolation still hurts.

Add substance use into the mix, and things get more complicated. Sobriety is lived one day at a time. I am grateful that I do not feel pulled toward relapse, but I do not take that for granted.

Some people will congratulate you on sobriety and still want nothing to do with you. Sometimes that reality is hard to accept.

Lately, I have been realizing that it may be time to stop mourning losses and start accepting them. I am trying, even when I am not fully convinced.

My dog believes in me. My mom believes in me.

So here I am. Still here.