Here’s what I don’t talk about with my photography gear…
Probably half the time I have my gear out, I just hold it, sitting in my lap. Not for pictures…. It is my security blanket.
I did it last night at the Marina when I snapped the selfie with Jared, with the X-S20.
This morning on the way out the door to church, I knew I’d want to hold the GFX after we dropped Porter off at UGA this afternoon, so I threw it into my purse. So here it is, now in my lap as Jared drives us back home to Carrollton.
I’m sure I’m not the only person in the world with security blanket-type object.
It’s just that mine have doubled as professional and hobby-type tools at the same time.
I’m feeling fairly anxious this week. I stood up for my 18-23 year-old self on Thursday, and also my 45 year-old self as well.
And then I drove to Athens for my oldest.
And I spent a good portion of the weekend hiding. Because that is what I do.
And I’m probably going to spend some more time in the next few weeks hiding while I try to get my mental health back in some semblance of equilibrium.
I’ve lost my laundry routine since before October 20.
Dishes sit undone for days on end.
It’s been rough.
I’m determined to turn a corner, but for now, I hide.
Halloween was interesting….I dressed up as a professional princess complete with the tiara I wore for our wedding and the pink sweater I made for myself last year, and a tulle layered skirt that embarrasses the big boys but Oliver likes, and one of my crystal necklaces, and my black faux patent leather boots that I love so much.
Oliver was the Joker from Batman.
The band was allowed to wear costumes, so Liam wore his suit on the field. He told me who he was supposed to be but I forget now– he’d wanted to wear a mask but school rules prohibited masks.
We have Porter home for the weekend! I went to get him Thursday at UGA. I skipped my ladies’ group in favor of a nap and necessary self-care, and then went to get Porter.
This selfie with Jared was tonight at the Marina. Jared took me to the swings at the Marina for the last night of dark after 6 pm for the year, since the time changes tonight. I took another selfie with us both looking at the camera, but then he wanted to take this one of him kissing me.
Jared is not afraid of public displays of affection, and he opened the door on my side of the car when I got in the car tonight. I have to say…..he’s done that for 22 years now. The only exception is if the spot is too tight for it to be awkward for him to do so. Otherwise, he is opening the car door for me and I am used to it.
The last two days have been rough for reasons I won’t go into, but Jared is taking good care of me. He always does.
Jared says I have been less afraid of him this year; that I am making progress.
He says for years in the 2010s to the early 2020s I flinched, as in actually jumped, whenever Jared reached out to touch me.
Jared says it hurt, but he knew it was not him I was reacting to: it was ghosts of the past.
The body keeps score.
And even now, my nervous system is highly wired and worn out.
But I do love my husband, and I am learning to trust the love that he has shown me consistently for 22 years now.
Trust is hard.
Trusting men is harder.
The body keeps score and even with 22 years of careful and tender care, there are confusing outbursts occasionally. It’s hard to remember that my husband is not the enemy sometimes.
And when my nervous system feels short-circuited due to high alert, the best thing I can do is bury my head in Jared’s chest and let him tell me, without me saying a word, “You are safe.”
In fact, when I am at my most distressed, Jared takes off his shirt to hold me, telling me I need the contact of his warm skin.
Jared says, “You are safe,” at the most unexpected times.
The situation is delicate enough that Jared’s incredible employer lets me hang out with him at work whenever it’s practical.
Right now, I am drafting this post from the hallway of the press box while Jared is working with the broadcast kids for the Halloween football game tonight.
Lots of afternoons, when I have been unable to drag myself out of the bed due to despondency, Jared will say, “Come see me,” and when I manage to get cleaned up and out of the house, I just go hang out at his office.
Jared is truly my safe place.
How I got so lucky when that man with the online profile “Maxtheape” sent me a message in early July 2003, I will never know.
I remain convinced that Jared Price saved my life.
Not in the whole chronological sense….I mean, of course I am aware that in general, a year has passed in my life.
But I mean…. it’s been quite the year, in an emotional journey sense.
2025 has been hard.
This has been the year of the financial reckoning. I was burned out and floundering and not doing well mental-health-wise which led me to close down the photography business. But also: the photography business was an unsustainable financial venture, and keeping it open greatly added to our debt every month.
I’ve been through our budget time and again over the months. We’ve used YNAB for years– since 2012– and all this time, I’ve kept track of where our money goes. It’s just that most of the time, I overlooked credit card spending. I was focusing more on the emotional wants and feeling like I needed to spend both to quell the overwhelming terror and urge to figure something out professionally, but also to stuff the overwhelming sense of boredom in my life.
And all that messiness came out in gross overspending.
And so here I am, and it’s the last days of October, and it’s month five of actually attempting to be responsible.
I spent a grand total of $22.39 this month on nonessential fun stuff for myself. That’s major progress. I bought a couple of skeins of yarn and some more antique resin cameos for necklaces and rings.
It’s not enough. Not spending is not enough to clean up this mess.
At this point, if rent were not so astronomical everywhere, if we hadn’t bought our house with a 2.875% interest rate and if the real estate landscape were not pretty atrocious right now, I’d probably be trying to figure out how to get our house on the market, to pay off our debt, because that’s probably going to be the only way out.
Not an option at the moment. We couldn’t afford to live anywhere else.
We need more income. I need a job.
And I’ve sent out tons of applications. I had an interesting offer last week, but the whole operation reeked of shady, and I’ve learned that I have a pretty stellar intuition about people so I said no. It was interesting not in the “this would be a fun job” sense but in the “I’m not sure this is a legal operation” sense.
At the same time as the financial reckoning, I’ve been seriously working on my mental and emotional health.
I’ve been facing some long demons head-on.
It’s not been easy. Progress is not linear.
I went to bed afraid of someone last night and didn’t sleep well, waking up unable to go back to sleep at 3:45 AM this morning which is why I am drafting this post at 5:30 AM.
That’s just my life.
Jared and I have been talking about the what-ifs of life lately.
Like, what if I ever had to live in this house on my own, without him.
And Jared is not sure I could do it, because I am so fearful.
And he’s right– I like to think I wouldn’t have to leave the house to go live with family or someone else, but I don’t even like to turn out the lights in the house for the night by myself.
My fear is that intense, and it’s always worse at night than during the daytime.
In the daytime, it’s manageable.
But at least this morning, I can cry, which is progress.
Because there are times that I’m so emotionally numb– most of the time, actually– that the tears don’t come.
And while trying to clean up the financial front of life, I’ve also been attempting to dissect, at the most very basics of levels, the trauma bonds that have kept me in bondage for most of my adult life, since last December.
It’s been messy, and honestly it’s been a miracle at times that I haven’t landed in a psych ward. That’s all I really care to say about it.
Except and this morning, I am angry, and I feel hurt, and slightly stupid, and I want retribution that will never come.
But, I do know this: Karma is a bitch.
So, I bide my time. And heal what I can, as I can.
