I have become the sort of person that washes their face.

This should probably not be something worthy of bloggy brag, but here we are.

I have never been the sort of person who washes their face. Well, not outside the shower anyways.

Despite every 90s Neutrogena commercial and a general knowledge that it is indeed, best practice to wash one’s face before bed, it has just never been for me. I don’t like the way it splashes on the counter. Not getting every single tiny molecule of soap off is infuriating. I hate that the water rolls down my wrist and soaks my clothes.

I would love to say that it was the $16 bar of soap I got in Asheville from a local soap maker, or the little wrist scrunchie things that absorb the water that made the difference, but I’m preeeetty sure it is the anti-depressants.

I haven’t been writing because I’ve been avoiding. All of it. The trauma of P’s last 6 months, the fact that I’m feeling better a good chunk of the time, that when I feel OK I feel guilty for feeling OK, that I’m not crying enough, or maybe too much sometimes. (For the record, a lot of things are easier when you don’t think about them or talk about them or write about them.)

But! I finally scheduled a new appointment with my therapist, and I am writing so maybe I’m not avoiding so much.

Sometime in July, I called my PA for some additional chemical help because I absolutely and completely lost it because I could not figure out a way to solve a problem.

It was a very solvable problem.

Conor was over the Y camp, and begged me not to go anymore.

“But I have to work!” I thought. “But I already paid for it!” my brain screamed. “But I will feel guilty if you play fortnite all day but I don’t have the bandwidth to be mother and father and sibling and camp counselor!” I bemoaned internally.

And I cried and cried, and slammed my wrists on the counter, and knelt on the floor and texted my PA and it was maybe the smartest thing I’ve done in all of this.

Solving problems is MY JAM. I am very good at it. I mean, look at all the things I’ve figured out! Plus! I’ve got people everywhere that are READY to help. Friends and neighbors and family and this whole camp thing was reducing me to a snot-covered puddle on the kitchen floor.

The medicine has helped a lot. I can still feel my feelings, but I am more in control of them. It feels much more me. I can focus when I need to and stand back and look at a situation with more clarity. In the case of camp, it was simple. I needed to ask for help. So when my wonderful mother-in-law offered to step in and help out, and my friend Courtney decided to invite Conor over multiple times this summer, and when I gave myself grace to let him live his life and play some more video games, it was all totally lovely and fine.

No puddles. No purple bruises on my wrist. No more hard conversations with a protective and loving 10-year-old about how I was “just really struggling today.”

And now I also wash my face. I mostly keep the kitchen clean, and change the sheets. The laundry doesn’t pile up. I go for walks and go out with my friends. I don’t beat myself up when I overreact, and frankly, I rarely overreact anymore.

If Conor doesn’t turn off the TV or put up his dishes, I can calmly ask again or do it myself without huffing around. If the dog runs away because she slips off her leash, I can rationally walk outside and get help from the neighbors.

I think maybe I’ve needed some medication for a long time. I didn’t like it when I tried it a few years ago, but now I take it every night without fail.

Because, I have somehow also becomes a person who remembers to take a daily medication. (*googles, “does lexapro help adhd…”)

I had lunch with some friends the other day, and they reminded me that I needed to sometimes write about the good things. So. Meds are good.

Also good:

• Conor has a class full of friends.
• Going to Mexico and New York this Fall and planning trips to Italy and Ireland in 2024.
• Trading in the Explorer and selling the Subaru to purchase a lovely Volvo. (I like to think I am one of the very few people blasting Against Me! and Hot Water Music in a Volvo)
• Baseball games, and soccer games, and concerts, and much cooler weather.
• Work that it is fulfilling and colleagues that bring me joy.
• Supportive and lovely family and friends

So. Wash your face. Take your meds. Ask for help. Write about the good things.