not a coincidence

plastic anatomy, a photo by Digital Heather on Flickr.

So much has happened.

I tried to kill myself twice... once at the end of February and again at the end of March. It's such a strange strand of events that I guess ultimately don't matter. But you know I'll tell you all about it at some point.

I'm home. I'm alive. I slept the night without my husband which was foreign. Every little noise was a big noise and I'm surprised I finally drifted off. I woke up super early because I was meant to wake before the sun and watch her as she rose.

My husband has asked me to move out. But for now I'm doing regular housewife things: laundry, eating another bowl of cereal just because.

This is the view at my desk in my office/craft room. I keep staring at his organs and paying special attention to the extras that I have and he lacks. I'm thinking about my surgery in 30 days. There's so much to think about but I can only do what I can do.

I woke up to my all-time favorite song on Pandora already playing, Mazzy Star's "Fade into You." I woke up smiling, knowing it's not a coincidence. I woke up remembering that moments before I was meeting David Bowie at Disneyland and talking about my bi-eyed dog at home who is named after him.

That was a dream of course-- but I'll take what I can get. I don't have any anti-depressants in my system or the subsequent side effect nightmares (or side-effect botched suicides either), so waking up smiling is just that. Waking up is just that. I've been home from the hospital for a little over 12 hours. I'm alive. I have a peace I can't even describe but will try to later.