• Housing Drama

    I frequently feel like turning our lives upside down.

    Recently this has looked like house hunting. Forget the fact that our house is not in show-ready condition. Forget that we’d need to do a lot to it that we want to do anyway, to get it in show-ready condition.

    Forget the fact that if it were in show-ready condition, I probably wouldn’t want to move anyway.

    House hunting is my sign that I need to work on my house.

    So, someone is coming Sunday or Monday to give me a quote on the major landscaping we want to have done.

    I have texted our tree guy about the couple of trees we want to have taken out and the several that need trimming back, and he’s coming soon to see what needs to be done.

    I am likely to tackle the painting of our house inside myself, and am on the active hunt for someone to paint the exterior, including the chimney. I want to go dark, like a charcoal or deep cocoa, to match the existing shutters, instead of the current cream color our trim is. While we do exterior painting, I want to replace gutters to match.

    The Everlife XL Cyrus Fauna LVP we had installed throughout the house is still in production, so I want to have the tile in the kitchen and laundry room and powder room replaced with that, to match the rest of the existing flooring. I’m actually thinking to keep the bathroom tile; it is super cute and cannot be replaced and in much better shape than the tile and grout in the kitchen and laundry rooms.

    I’d like to have beadboard on the laundry room walls, to cover the existing wallpaper. The wallpaper itself has grown on me quite a lot but there are spots that have had to be cut up or whatever over the years, prior to us moving in, that cannot be repaired. The powder room wallpaper is staying forever.

    It’s time to replace the combo microwave and oven wall unit that died circa 2022 (complete with Oliver’s chicken nuggets still in it, unable to retrieve– gross, I know) replaced. We’ve investigated that project before and it’s going to require woodworking magic because newer units do not come in the dimensions our older unit is. I have no idea how that will get accomplished and salvage our current cabinetry footprint.

    It’s time to give the deck and the outdoor furniture we never sit in a complete overhaul.

    It’s time to clean up the garage so we don’t track yard stuff in all the time into the laundry room.

    My house is nearly an empty nest, and it doesn’t actually require a downsize in our case. We have one of the golden 2.875% interest rates. The house itself is solid. I feel safe here. We live in a nice neighborhood.

    But, my brain goes searching for drama because it refuses to accept that maybe I’m safe; maybe things are actually going well in my life; maybe I can relax and be creative and just enjoy life.

    I’m considering re-claiming Porter’s room as an office, to tear down the faux wall/ bookshelf that our friend built us when we moved in, in 2021 ,so that Porter could have a room. We’d need to leave a day bed or something in there, but the wall could come down and we could redecorate. The house was sold as a 3-bedroom with an office and if we are staying here long-term, it would be lovely as just that.

    I think the windows throughout the house are actually fine, but the double doors in the living room need to be replaced.

    The house is long enough that it really needs a second AC unit altogether, for the boys’ end of the house.

    We need to see about the drainage around the house eventually. We had a French drain and sump pump installed under the house in 2024 and that is helping, but the exterior drains that were here prior to our purchasing the house are all clogged and probably need replacing eventually. That is not a today or even this decade project probably. But it’s on the list.

    We need to have driveway work done around the entire house, including something to prevent water from pooling in the center of the back driveway such that I do believe it is seeping into the ground causing moisture problems to the foundation on that side of the house. The front driveway needs to be repaired from sink holes and the front walkway probably needs to be entirely redone because of tree root or other moisture issues, not sure which.

    So today, I am plotting major projects that are constructive, instead of plotting ways to throw our equity down the drain. When we bought this house in November of 2021– a house that I picked out– I swore up and down this was going to be the home we died in, that we lived forever in. And by 2023 or so I was ready to throw all that away to move to Atlanta. Now I am circling back to the idea of staying, even as our children move out and onto bigger things in their own lives: this is a phenomenal footprint, ready for aging in place, two families already did that. And if I did all the work that needs to be done, then I wouldn’t even want to move anyway.

    Most of them won’t get done right away, though I am serious about the landscaping issues because I am tired of it looking like we live in a jungle in the middle of a nice neighborhood.

    But I can certainly dream, and I’ve got plenty to do regardless in the meantime.

    And just about the time we get all that done, I won’t want move at all ever, ever. And maybe it won’t all ever get done. But anything we do will be better than the alternative of just running away from it all.

    After all, this is my dream house. I haven’t seen any house that I’ve liked any better, it’s a great size, it’s great for entertaining even if we do it infrequently. And that 2.875% interest rate is irreplaceable.

    Separately, I am desperately trying to get my Fediverse traffic restored and it seems to be hopelessly broken. I don’t know how to fix it and it is very frustrating. WordPress.com updated me without permission or warning on July 19 and it has broken my Fediverse syndication. Still testing, @HolosDiscover@Holos.Discover.Social please follow me!

  • First World Problems

  • Realism

    My back is collapsing.

    More specifically, my right shoulder is collapsing forward and inward toward my left hip, while my left ribcage rotates to the right and collapses inward at the same time, while my spine is curved upward to the left at the bottom of my thoracic area and is curving to the right up by my neck. 

    It’s a whole thing.

    But, it feels more like just my ribcage collapsing and my left hip drawing upward. I am not conscious of the right shoulder issue at all, until I actively remember to hold my right shoulder down and back. And, that part isn’t painful. It might be more helpful in preventing it if it were painful, but it’s not, really. 

    But, I knew I was having more trouble holding my left shoulder up, and I knew for sure that when I lie down it is more difficult to get my knees to align with one another lying on my left side because of my hip, so back to physical therapy I went last week. And before I started the new exercise from physical therapy last week, I could feel the rotation and curving pivot point in my lower thoracic back, deep inside. I can’t describe it, but I could feel it. Not painful, definitely wrong. 

    My physical therapist used this tool to measure the degrees of my curvature. 

    She showed me after exactly what the measurement had looked like while she used it while I bent forward……she showed the tool inching to the left as expected, and then as I got to a cerrtain point it inched clear the other direction.

    Rotation.

    And so: those bars my Dad and Jared installed some months ago are now my lifeline and my primary project: At least twice a day I am to hang, on my knees from the floor, from the tallest bar I can reach with my left hand, with my right arm on the next bar down, letting my bottom just hang and gravity do its thing. It is so important that my physical therapist isn’t even worried about any of my other strength or balance exercises this week. 

    My physical therapist said after doing this once and her doing some massaging as I lie on my right side that she could already tell a difference for the better when I was getting ready to walk out of her office last week, in my posture. 

    And, three days later, I can, too: I realize now that my right shoulder has been falling forward. The gravity from the hanging is making me more cognizant of my left side, it has more feeling, and it is slightly easier to puff it out with my breathing exercises I do a lot even when I am not doing other exercises now, just sitting or walking around. It is easier to concentrate on putting my left shoulder blade in the correct place, which I have to do consciously or it just falls where it wants to fall, unsupported.

    See, the problem is, my spine was collapsing anyway. But I had this hysterectomy and my ovaries removed in May of 2025 and even though I am on estradiol, my hormones are in free-fall: my body is converting to old-lady format in speed mode. My physical therapist says my body will reach a new baseline, but what I do with it between now and then sort of determines exactly where that new baseline lands. 

    What I know is maybe it should scare me more than it does. It doesn’t though.

    Nor does back pain scare me; there is a baseline of pain whenever I move now in pretty much any direction, from any position. But I don’t think of it as pain exactly, at least not pain in an injured sort of way. I would know the difference. No, this is more of a “ooh, I am working this out” pain. Probably arthritis pain. I’ve had arthritis in my ribs since I was a teenager.

    Because I am keenly aware that yes, perhaps there are surgical alternatives. But: I know those surgical alternatives would come with less mobility and flexibility. 

    My upper back may be somewhat painful now, but every bit of that pain is a reminder that it still works, things still move. 

    And, I will take that soreness for the rest of my life to maintain the flexibility. Good pain means things still work. 

    That hanging though: I can do it for about 5-6 breaths. Then I have to let go, mostly because my grip strength is awful and I’m too lazy to take my rings off. And, I have to say: the sensation on my left side, where my left side has been bunched up and crunched and rotated for so long: the stretching of that feels gross and weird and wrong and slightly creepy-crawly in the mid-hang position. And it also feels deeply, deeply necessary. 

    My beloved large jute purse is a problem. I’d estimate that it is probably almost 3 pounds by itself, maybe more — maybe less, but probably not much.

    Add my camera, my computer, my notebooks, my daily carry stuff…… it gets heavy when it is fully loaded. 

    Jared carries it for me a lot these days when we go to Gallery Row. Or more accurately— I carry it out of stubbornness to Gallery Row because it is cute. Jared carries it back to the car for me when we head home.

    And the bag has very little in it when I am just out and about for the day…..most often the computer stays home unless I am going out to write elsewhere. I don’t always carry the camera even though I want to. Sometimes the notebooks stay home, too. 

    So, I am considering using my lighter purse options more often. Begrudgingly. 

    And speaking of writing, and photography, the time has come for a permanent business pivot, after months and years of floundering. 

    I closed my Google Business Profile yesterday. I filed for an NAICS code change for my LLC— it’s that official. I downgraded my gallery software to the free version since it was up for renewal this weekend, with limited storage. I removed the “portraits” page from my blog. I reached out to have my occupational tax business category amended.

    I’m good with it. I’m pivoting more to focusing on fine art photography and my writing. I’ve done three sessions this year, with only one being paid. I know it is no longer in my best interest to seek out wedding or event work— I was on my feet for three hours last week for a relatively stationary volunteer opportunity and that felt like a workout to my upper back by the end. I had to come straight home and lie flat on the floor to reverse the hump back feeling I had in my neck. And I wasn’t even holding anything but my lighest purse on my shoulder the whole time. 

    I’m under no illusions that blogging and writing will bring actual paid work though it would be nice, but I changed my NAICS code with the Georgia Secretary of State this weekend. Moving forward I am concentrating on blogging, fine art photography, and content creation. I’m considering myself more of an visual and written essayist moving forward. 

    I am on the fence daily about selling my second camera and parting with another lens or two. 

    That’s a hard one: since I started taking photography more seriously in 2012 or 2013, it has been deeply ingrained that keeping two camera bodies was the cardinal rule. But do I need them both in this season of life? Definitely not. Sunk cost is the only reason for keeping at least the second camera body and probably one of the lenses but if I am being real, our budget could use the funds from a sale. And I am trying to be more responsible with our budget these days. 

    And: I’m not sad about these changes. The reality is, I got a nice camera in 2011 because I wanted pretty photos to be able to have a blog. The blog was always the dream. And, now I have the blog. Photography was a detour and it was an awesome, unexpected detour and I learned a lot and met some really nice people. 

    And, I am mercurial, so tomorrow, I might decide to do professional photography again. Goodness knows, it has happened before.

    Regardless, realism is important. Settling into middle age, I am finding my introspection-out-loud feels like home, and feels more worthy at this stage of life than attempting to be a service provider. 

    And, mercurial or not, I am nothing if not a realist. 

  • Postpartum Psychosis Thoughts

    photo by Griffin Gibson

    as posted on my Facebook profile on Friday, August 21, 2026

    There is a court case right now that involves postpartum psychosis.

    Let’s talk about that— not about the case, because I know nothing about that person’s situation. Let’s talk about postpartum psychosis.

    Because, that is indeed something I know something about.

    Because, I gave birth to our middle child in May of 2008.

    And due to my employer’s policies of the time, and due to the fact that I was out of work four weeks’ prior to my son’s birth due to preterm labor, I returned to work on my due date.

    And as it happens, I was going to lose my job if I did not return to work on my due date.

    And I loved my job; it was my dream job with my dream employer; and so, I, from my hospital bed, within hours of giving birth on my child’s birth date, emailed my boss to let her know that I would like to attempt to return to work in precisely four weeks. I told her I thought I would be in good shape to do that.

    As it turns out: four weeks to the day from that date, I did actually indeed return to work.

    On my child’s due date. My first day back at work, the day my child turned four weeks old, was his due date.

    He wasn’t even old enough to go into daycare; my aunt and uncle kept him for the first two weeks I worked because he needed to be six weeks old to go to daycare.

    And as it happens; I did have a history of bipolar disorder at the time; I’d had my first psychosis at age 17.

    And as it happens now: I am on SSDI for bipolar disorder and PTSD; my case is one of the rare ones that had enough documentation that I qualified at first application without an attorney.

    And I know absolutely nothing about what is going on with the particular legal case that is in the news. I know that it is a tragedy I refuse to speculate about.

    But: I know something about dealing with severe mental illness in the wake of giving birth.

    I know what it is to not have the kinds of support you really need to raise three children.

    By the grace of God, I have a child turning 20 years old on Monday who is at the college of his choice, and that child whose due date occurred on the first day I returned to work is in his first weeks at the college of his choice; both of our children have tremendous scholarships. And our 12 year old will attend a cross country meet in the morning.

    I am one of the lucky ones.

    I am one of the lucky ones because of happenstance. Because a month after I returned to work, I resigned from said job because I knew I was unwell, and within 48 hours I was inpatient in a mental facility in metro Atlanta, delusional and having experienced the only hallucinations i have ever experienced in my lifetime.

    I’d sought help, within two weeks of returning to work. It was clear I had postpartum depression; I was in overdrive and overwhelmed caring for a toddler and a newborn. My psychiatrist at the time was not great and was not that responsive.

    And whether my allergy to lamictal or whether my own propensity toward psychosis kicked in is irrelevant; I experienced a break with reality that saw me 1013’d into a mental hospital for 72 hours.

    And I’d like to say my story had a completely happy ending.

    And in a lot of ways, it does: I am much more stable today; and my children are safe and relatively happy, and in many ways have beaten quite a lot of odds given that they were raised with one parent with severe mental illness.

    But: I can’t say I’ve had the support I’ve needed throughout raising my chlidren. My husband has had to bear an unfair burden of parenting. I’ve retreated to isolation in a lot of situations. I have friends, but I have lost an awful lot more friends who I’ve made uncomfortable with my particular brand of mental health issues.

    It’s not quite as simple as a lot of the commentary out there seems to indicate: That if you need or want help or someone to talk to, you should just reach out. That is a gross oversimplification that simply is sometimes impractical; sometimes ignored; sometimes unwelcome.

    And I have to say: I read an awful lot of social media commentary in relation to the current events case.

    What I can say is that the mental health system is indeed broken; good psychiatry care is hard to find; good therapists are harder to find.

    I found a regimen and care team that work for me: but I didn’t enter serious care until after that postpartum psychosis episode, and it took over a full decade to figure out which medications really work for me in a sustainable manner.

    And I was lucky: because I have had very significant family social and financial help; I lucked into SSDI at first application; I have a spouse that has the temperament to deal with my issues; and I’ve had very good psychiatrists. And I went onto have a third baby whose birth didn’t induce a postpartum psychosis because I was under the watchful eye of a stellar psychiatrist.

    But I can’t say that it is a completely happy ending because there has been tremendous cost to me socially, financially, professionally; and quite frankly, if I’d felt more supported in any one of those areas, I probably could have been a better parent in my childrens’ growing up years.

    So I find it pretty uncomfortable for a lot of the social commentary going on in the Lindsay Clancy case. It is true that postpartum depression and psychosis requires much more support than is typically given or available.

    But in my experience, society is not prepared to provide that support in any way, shape, or form to mothers with mental health needs. Not even close. Not judging by the interactions I still have, and severe isolation I still deal with, every day of my life, as a woman who has with my husband raised two children to adulthood with one still at home.

    And the armchair detectives and commentators out there on this case make me very, very, very uncomfortable. It strikes me as making entertainment of a family’s real-life tragedy, and a sort of mockery of those of us who have indeed dealt with real life post-partum psychosis.

    But what I do know is it shouldn’t take enormous tragedy to call attention to the enormous mental health needs of all mothers.

    But that requires conversations and support that we as a society are not prepared to have.

  • How It’s Going (Not Great)