Tag: love

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When the Holidays Are Loud Everywhere Except Your House

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The holidays are noisy.
Not just with music and parties and people — but with proof. Proof that everyone else seems to be gathering, hosting, laughing, overflowing.

And then there’s your house.
Quiet. Still. Too still.

You can be grateful and lonely at the same time. Those aren’t opposites — they’re roommates who don’t speak to each other.

You can know you’re lucky, blessed, resourced, safe…
and still feel like something essential is missing. Like the volume of the world has been turned up everywhere else and muted where you are.

That disconnect messes with your head.

Because the messaging is relentless:

  • Be thankful.
  • Cherish this season.
  • Soak it all in.

But what if there isn’t much to soak in?
What if you’re not ungrateful — you’re just alone?

There’s a particular kind of loneliness that shows up during the holidays.
Not the dramatic kind.
The quiet, creeping kind that makes you feel unworthy of love, like if you were easier, better, less broken, someone would be here.

And that’s the lie.

The truth is:
Holidays magnify absence. They don’t create it.

Estrangement, distance, grief, illness, burnout — all the things you’ve been surviving all year don’t suddenly take December off. They just get wrapped in twinkle lights and judged harder.

If your house is quiet this season, it doesn’t mean you failed.
It doesn’t mean you’re unlovable.
It doesn’t mean you did something wrong.

It just means this season is asking something different of you.

Maybe survival instead of celebration.
Gentleness instead of gratitude lists.
Presence instead of performance.

You don’t have to force joy to prove you’re okay.
You don’t have to fake cheer to earn rest.
And you don’t have to minimize your pain just because someone else has it worse.

If the holidays are loud everywhere except your house —
your quiet is still allowed.
Your sadness still counts.
And you are still worthy of love, even when no one shows up with cookies and matching pajamas.

Sometimes getting through is enough.
Sometimes staying soft in a loud world is the bravest thing you’ll do all season. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!

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7 Conversations I’ve Had With Myself This Week

Jo1 Comment

Look, I talk to myself. A lot. And not in the cute “oh, I’m just thinking out loud” way that neurotypical people do. I’m talking full-blown conversations, complete with tone changes, arguments, and occasionally losing said arguments to myself. If you have ADHD, chronic illness, or just a generally chaotic brain, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

Here are seven actual conversations I’ve had with myself this week. I’m not proud of most of them, but I’m also not surprised by any of them.

1. The Medication Negotiation

Me at 8 AM: “Okay, time to take your pills.”

Also me: “But do I really NEED them today? I feel fine.”

Me: “You feel fine BECAUSE of the pills, you absolute potato.”

Also me: “But what if I’ve been healed by positive thinking and I don’t need them anymore?”

Me: “We’ve been through this. Take the damn pills.”

Also me: “Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”

[Takes pills]

Me, two hours later when brain fog hits: “Why didn’t I take my pills on time?”

Also me: “…We literally just had this conversation.”

2. The Food Decision Paralysis

Me, standing in kitchen: “I should eat something.”

Also me: “Agreed. What do we want?”

Me: “I don’t know, what sounds good?”

Also me: “Nothing sounds good.”

Me: “Okay, what do we HAVE?”

Also me: “Everything and nothing.”

Me: “That’s not helpful.”

Also me: “Neither is staring into the fridge like it’s going to solve our problems.”

Me: “What if we just eat cereal again?”

Also me: “We had cereal for dinner last night.”

Me: “Your point?”

[Grabs bowl]

3. The Task Initiation Battle

Me: “I need to start that thing.”

Also me: “Which thing?”

Me: “You know, THE thing. The important thing.”

Also me: “Oh right. When are we doing that?”

Me: “Now. We’re doing it now.”

Also me: “But first, let me just check my phone real quick.”

Me: “NO. We’re not doing this.”

Also me: “Just one quick scroll.”

Me: “It’s never one quick scroll and you know it.”

Also me: “But what if someone texted us?”

Me: “They didn’t.”

Also me: “But what if they did and it’s urgent?”

Me: “FINE. Five minutes.”

[Three hours later]

Me: “We never started the thing, did we?”

Also me: “…In our defense, we learned a lot about seahorse reproduction.”

4. The Sleep Schedule Delusion

Me at 9 PM: “We should go to bed.”

Also me: “But I’m not tired.”

Me: “We’re never tired at bedtime. That’s literally our thing.”

Also me: “What if tonight is different?”

Me: “It’s not. Go to bed.”

Also me: “But what if I just scroll for a bit and THEN go to bed?”

Me: “That has literally never worked.”

Also me: “There’s a first time for everything.”

[At 2 AM]

Me: “I hate us.”

Also me: “Same.”

5. The Executive Function Check-In

Me: “Have we showered today?”

Also me: “…Define ‘today.'”

Me: “The current 24-hour period.”

Also me: “Then no.”

Me: “What about yesterday?”

Also me: “I plead the fifth.”

Me: “We need to shower.”

Also me: “That sounds like a lot of steps.”

Me: “It’s literally just standing in water.”

Also me: “Yeah, but first we have to DECIDE to shower, then remember to shower, then actually GET IN the shower, then remember what order the shower things go in…”

Me: “Okay I see your point.”

Also me: “Plus we’d have to find a clean towel.”

Me: “Never mind. We’ll shower tomorrow.”

Also me: “Bold of you to assume tomorrow will be any different.”

6. The Pain Scale Debate

Me: “Ow.”

Also me: “What’s the pain level?”

Me: “I don’t know, like a 6?”

Also me: “Is it though? Remember that time we thought 7 was bad and then we had that 9?”

Me: “Good point. Maybe it’s a 5.”

Also me: “But if it’s a 5, should we take pain meds?”

Me: “I don’t know, what if it gets worse and we already used up our meds?”

Also me: “But what if we DON’T take meds and it gets worse anyway?”

Me: “What if we just suffer through it and prove we’re tough?”

Also me: “That sounds like internalized ableism.”

Me: “You’re right. Okay, taking meds.”

Also me: “Wait, did we already take meds today?”

Me: “…I don’t remember.”

Also me: “Cool, cool. This is fine. Everything is fine.”

7. The Bedtime Existential Crisis

Me at 1 AM: “Why are we like this?”

Also me: “Like what?”

Me: “You know… LIKE THIS. The chaos. The forgetting. The talking to ourselves at 1 AM.”

Also me: “It’s not our fault our brain is wired differently.”

Me: “I know, but sometimes I wish we were just… normal.”

Also me: “Normal people are boring.”

Me: “Normal people remember to pay bills on time.”

Also me: “Okay, fair point.”

Me: “Normal people don’t have to negotiate with themselves about basic tasks.”

Also me: “But would we really want to be normal if it meant losing our creativity? Our hyperfocus superpowers? Our ability to make connections nobody else sees?”

Me: “…Are you just trying to make us feel better?”

Also me: “Is it working?”

Me: “A little.”

Also me: “Then yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Me: “We should probably go to sleep.”

Also me: “Agreed. Right after we Google one quick thing.”

Me: “We both know that’s a lie.”

Also me: “And yet here we are.”

The Conclusion I Didn’t Ask For

The truth is, talking to myself has become such a normal part of my life that I forget other people don’t do this. Or at least, they don’t do it out loud. Or with multiple distinct personalities arguing about whether cereal counts as dinner.

But here’s the thing: these internal (and sometimes external) conversations are how my brain processes things. It’s how I work through decisions, remember tasks, and occasionally talk myself into doing basic human functions like showering and eating vegetables.

Is it weird? Absolutely. Is it exhausting? You have no idea. Would I change it if I could?

Ask me again after I’ve had some sleep. And by sleep, I mean after I finish this one last Google search about whether other people have full conversations with themselves or if I should be concerned. Til next time gang, take care of yourself, and each other.

[Spoiler alert: I Googled it. It’s apparently normal. We’re fine. Probably.]

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The Great Household Item Hide & Seek (and the Conversations I’ve Had With Myself While Looking for Them)

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You know how some people lose themselves in books or meditation? Yeah, not me. I lose myself in a daily game of hide & seek with my household items. Keys, phones, socks, remotes, pens — all apparently sentient and united in their mission to make me look ridiculous.

What makes it worse? The conversations I have with myself while I’m searching. Spoiler: I’m both the villain and the detective, and I’m never kind to myself in either role.

Here’s a peek into the thrilling mysteries that unfold in my home:

🧦 The Missing Socks Saga

One sock left in the dryer, the other AWOL.

Me: “Did I put this in the laundry?”
Also me: “Nope, it was definitely in the drawer.”
Me: “So… abducted by aliens?”
Also me: “Or maybe it’s sipping espresso in Paris while you walk around like a mismatched peasant.”

Result: I usually find it way too late — after my daughter has cut it into an art project, or the cat has been subjected to a “custom sweater” that was three sizes too small.

📱 The Vanishing Phone Mystery

My phone disappears precisely when I’m already late.

Me: “I know I set it down… somewhere.”
Also me: “Maybe in the fridge? You’ve done worse.”
Me: “I don’t know! I don’t know anything anymore! This is how the chaos wins.”
Also me: “Honestly, you’d be late even if it was taped to your forehead.”

📺 The Remote’s Secret Life

The remote hides in plain sight: under cushions, in laundry baskets, behind the cat.

Me: “This remote is plotting against me.”
Also me: “Yep, it’s basically Loki in plastic form.”
Me: “It knows I want to binge my show. This is betrayal on a molecular level.”
Also me: “Face it, the remote has stronger boundaries than you do.”

✨ Bonus Round – The Usual Suspects

Pens that vanish. Hair ties that escape. Phone chargers that ghost me like a bad date.

Me: “Is it under the bed, on the counter, or did it grow legs?”
Also me: “Nah, it packed a bag and joined the circus.”
Me: “Fine. I’ll just survive off raw anxiety.”
Also me: “Cool, that’s basically your whole lifestyle brand anyway.”

The Takeaway

Somewhere between yelling at invisible forces and negotiating with the cat, I’ve realized: maybe this is just normal. Maybe everyone’s household is secretly playing hide & seek with their sanity. Also me is a comedy genius lol.

Or maybe I’m just cursed.

Either way, I’m declaring a truce. But first… coffee. Definitely coffee.

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Extremely Official Life Lessons I’ve Learned From Inanimate Objects

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Hey friends. No heavy lifting today — unless you count carrying the emotional weight of a slightly stale muffin and a cluttered craft table. Just some wisdom I’ve gathered from staring at household objects for way too long and assigning them personalities.

1. My Laundry Basket

Life lesson: You can only carry so much emotional weight (and unmatched socks) before you drop something and cry about it.

2. My Microwave

Life lesson: You can explode if someone doesn’t give you enough time to cool off. It’s science. And vibes.

3. That One Spoon That’s Always Dirty

Life lesson: You are valuable. You are essential. And even if you feel gross and overlooked, someone’s probably looking for you right now.

4. The Craft Table (aka The Table Formerly Known as “Dining Room”)

Life lesson: You don’t have to be pretty to be productive. Also, chaos can be functional. It’s fine. It’s all fine.

5. My Phone Charger

Life lesson: You can’t be expected to power everything if you’re frayed at both ends. Unplug. Recharge. Or scream. Honestly, all valid.

6. The Thermostat

Life lesson: You can keep everything “set” just right and still end up wildly uncomfortable. Sometimes your system just doesn’t cooperate. That doesn’t mean you’re broken — it means you’re human. Or possibly perimenopausal. Or both. Let’s be honest, probably both.

7. The Floor

Life lesson: No matter how hard you hope, it still isn’t made of trampoline. Bouncing back takes work. And ice packs.

8. The Dish Towel That’s Always Damp

Life lesson: You can show up day after day, do your job, and still get left in a heap in the corner. But look at you — still wiping up messes like a champ.

9. That Cup in the Sink That No One Ever Claims

Life lesson: Boundaries are important. You are not the designated cleaner of everyone else’s mystery problems.

10. My Alarm Clock

Life lesson: People won’t always appreciate you for waking them up, but sometimes being the annoying truth-teller is your job. Be loud anyway.

Til next time gang, unless I resin my fingers together lol. Take care of yourselves, and each other!

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A Grown-Up Juice Box and Other Things I Wish Existed Today

JoLeave a comment

Survival & Sanity Edition

Some days, I just need something to fix everything instantly.
A nap. A hug. A reset button. A very large grilled cheese that appears by yelling “Grilled cheese!”

Since none of that magically appeared (yet), here’s my list of things I wish existed today. Feel free to add yours in the comments, because I know I’m not the only one on the edge.

🌈 Today’s Top 10 Things That Should Exist But Don’t:

  1. A grown-up juice box with electrolytes, magnesium, and a splash of wine. Or beer. Or a shot of Jack lol it depends on the day.
  2. A “No One Is Allowed to Ask Me Anything Today” hat—everyone must obey it. Also on a related note, a personal bubble. Let those suckers keep their distance .
  3. A teleporting weighted blanket that hugs you and then disappears before you get too hot. Does anyone’s body temp go wonky with sleep deprivation or high anxiety? No just me? Sweet! It actually makes me have a physical ‘flush’
  4. An adult-sized baby swing that rocks you while playing lo-fi beats and whispering “you’re doing great.” Maybe music instead of the whispering, that actually sounds a little creepy lol but I’m down for the swings! Hubby even has hooks indoors to hang hammocks sometimes the swinging or rocking repetitive motion helps.
  5. A “pause the world” button. Just for an hour. Or a week. It was kind of like that when I was in the coma, don’t recommend that route.
  6. A clone who does your grocery shopping and argues with the insurance company for you. Use what you’ve got though, we do pick up whenever possible even if we plan on going inside, its easier to manage the list, keeps things a little more organized.
  7. A universal “I’m spiraling, treat me gently” badge that everyone understands. Or don’t understand, just respect others feelings, that shouldnt even have to be a wish, but its not exactly great out there.
  8. An emotional support burrito that is also a functioning therapist. Or tacos! Emotional support tacos with some frozen margs lol.
  9. A magic snack drawer that restocks with your comfort food daily (and knows your allergies). Cool ranch on lock!
  10. A panic shutoff switch. Like a car alarm button, but for your brain. A pause? Maybe just not a multi party pile up on the everything all at once highway lol
  11. A fidget suit. I would straight up rock that thing at every opportunity. Imagine: a soft, cozy hoodie with textured sleeves, loops to tug on, snap buttons, zipper pulls, maybe even little hidden squeeze pouches and stretchy straps to tug when you’re crawling out of your own skin, I can tell you how often the panic will come over me at night and the only thing that helps is hopping out of bed and MOVING. Oh and POCKETS.
  12. Weighted curtains for your brain, you pull them closed and suddenly outside voices get quiet, to-do lists stop screaming, and it’s like a sensory hug for your overstimulated self.
    Bonus: blocks gaslighting and unsolicited advice.
  13. A Spoon Dispenser lol you swipe a card or breathe into it, and if it senses you’ve been emotionally juggling chainsaws, it gives you five extra spoons for the day. So many days I’d give my last penny for a spoon lol
  14. Memory foam couch that holds you like a mom, it knows when you’re about to cry and reclines automatically. One arm dispenses hot tea, the other tucks a weighted blanket around you.
    Available in “Smells Like Cookies” and “Washes Your Hair Energy.”
    Limited edition comes with caffeine mist and validation.

Whether it’s imaginary inventions or real-deal coping tools, the truth is we’re all just trying to patch together peace in a loud, messy world. Some days we thrive. Some days we spiral in our soft pants and pray the coffee kicks in before the anxiety does. Either way, you’re not alone in this. You never were.

So take your meds, drink some water, and rest when you need to. Find something small to laugh about if you can. And remember: survival is still survival, even when it’s messy.

Take care of yourselves—and each other.

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Apparently, I’m the Mean Mom — For Enforcing the Deal She Made

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The Dishes, the Drama, and the Floor Dive That Saved the Day

‘woe is me’ – me probably being melodramatic

Let me set the scene:
I’m a chronic-illness, ADHD, bipolar, recently-hip-replaced mom trying to hold the household together with duct tape and sarcasm. My teen? Smart. Strong-willed. And currently convinced I’m the villain in her origin story.

And today? Today was The Dishes Incident™.

✋ Scene One: A Chore of Her Own Choosing

We don’t assign chores like a dictatorship around here. I made a list. She chose “dishes.” It was her idea.
Ten bucks a week. Seemed simple. No tricks, no traps. Just a job she picked herself.

Last night, after hours of computer time, I said: “It’s time.”


She said: “I’m tired.”


I said: “Fine. Tomorrow morning, before school.”


She said: “Okay.”

Agreement made. Terms accepted. Treaty signed.

⏰ Scene Two: The Deal Breaker

She woke up on her own at 5 AM — a miracle I did not question. Then she asked:

“Can I do them when I get home?”

Cue my calm-but-firm voice: “No. That’s not the deal.”
The deal. Her deal.

Enter: rage. Defiance. And the words that burn like fire even when you know they’re just teen flailing:

“I hate you! I want to go live with Grandma!”

Classic. Not the first time I have heard it and it wont be the last I’m sure but it guts me every time.

🐈 Scene Three: The Cat, the Crisis, and the Floor

Then I saw her on the living room camera… getting way too close to one of the cats. And a pit hit my stomach:
Was she looking for something to hurt because she was hurting?

the cat was like, ‘you broke the food lady’

I ran. Too fast. My hip screamed.
I told her: “If you need to hurt someone, hurt me. I’m the one you’re mad at.”

Then her dad got up.
And I — knowing better — told him what she said.

Cue: screaming. Yelling. Not listening. To me, nor each other.

So I did the only thing I could think of. I threw myself on the floor.
Literally. Like a one-woman protest movement.

It worked. Not proud of it. But it worked.
Because when words don’t reach them, drama sometimes does.

🫱 Scene Four: The Olive Branch (and the Laundry)

Later, I offered her a new deal.
The laundry. Every day. Not as punishment — as partnership.

Her dad won’t have to haul baskets up and down stairs.
I still can’t do them after surgery.
It’s a chance for her to contribute and feel capable again.

But just so we’re clear:
If she cooks it, she cleans it.
I may be flexible, but I’m not a doormat.

💬 What I’m Learning (Even When It Hurts)

Holding boundaries hurts sometimes.
Offering grace doesn’t always feel graceful.
Being the “mean mom” isn’t about being cruel — it’s about being consistent.

She sees me as mean today. We’ll see how she is when she gets home. We havent had a blow up like that in a while, sometimes she comes home apologetic, sometimes she doubles down.
Maybe one day she’ll see it for what it was: love that didn’t flinch, even when it limped.
Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!

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Off with her head… or all the rest of the parts that hurt…

Jo1 Comment

We’ve all been there, some social event that you drag yourself out of bed for, any big gathering that you’ve saved up your spoons for because you know how things get. You’ve managed to smile for most of the people and start to ache, thinking only of the inevitable crash that comes after having fun with others. You’ve clocked the exits, you’re making your rounds saying goodbye to everyone. Hand shakes, gentle hugs for the chosen few, when someone sees you trying to make your quiet farewell. A loud someone. A judgemental someone. A someone you’ve artfully managed to dodge for the entire event, and there they are blocking the door. You can hear it already, their complete dismissal of the monster that consumes your entire being most days. How much you wish you could just transfer the monster to this persons back for five minutes, maybe you’d get a little empathy. Of course not. Today is the day they get through to you that you’re not feeling what you think you’re feeling, you’re feeling what THEY think you are feeling, and with a lot less first hand knowledge. Rolling your eyes and thanking them won’t work, but you are not in the mood to debate it, some people will just never believe what they can’t see, touch, or feel themselves.

You are not going to change hearts and minds here. Your best bet is to leave before anyone’s feelings are hurt (including your own, some people are mean). BUTTTTTT, you see where this is going, so you square your shoulders and smile, hoping to minimize the interaction and get out of there before drawing a crowd and having to say goodbye to everybody all over again. Bracing for it, you are not at all surprised to hear, ‘You know, I read that fibromyalgia is 100% mental, have you ever thought about the possibility you’re just too sensitive? It’s all in your head, I bet’


Oh boy. He went there. Now if you’re like me and you are not completely depleted from peopleing at this point, this is when you laugh. Not the good funny ha-ha laugh, but the ‘listen here f*cktw@t’ chuckle of you loading up the heat to roast this fool. Get out your marshmallows and gather round…

Guys fibro is hard, and fibro fog makes thinking of quick witty comebacks a near impossibility, but if you are prepared, locked and loaded with the snark this comment deserves this can be the highlight of the evening not just for you but for all in the vicinity, especially those who don’t enjoy this tool’s company. I GOT YOU! Look no further, these comebacks are sure to have him feeling the heat of that burn until the next party (where I promise at least this dumbass won’t be providing color commentary on your health.)

‘Oh wow of course! All I need to do is flip the switch in my brain labeled pain sensitivity to the off position, why didnt I think of that!’ – Ironically thats what some of our meds actually do, but this person wasn’t trying to be helpful and you don’t owe him a science lesson.

‘Wow, why didn’t I think of that? Let me just tell these nerves to stop being so dramatic’ – That one works best with an eye roll and then a fast subject change, as if you have no time for his shit.

‘Great idea! I’ll just add ‘ignore chronic pain’ to my to-do list. I’ll put it right under solve world hunger and teach you how to find the g-spot’ – That one is savage and might need to be adjusted in accordance with their sexual orientation

‘Oh silly me, I forgot to unsubscribe to the feeling pain newsletter, and I forgot my imaginary pain repellent! Can I borrow yours?’ – You can add ‘never mind, I’ll find my own, I forgot you keep yours up your ass with your head’ it depends on who is around and how much you dislike this person.

The last one is best delivered with full eye roll and exaggerated ‘I’m over this’ hair toss – ‘Ah, the elusive solution: simply pretend it doesn’t exist. Thanks for the groundbreaking advice. Remind me to cancel my doctors appointment and just think happy thoughts, why did I forget I was going to get to see Dr. Obvious, first name Captain’ and swish on out of there.

None of these are ideal, but neither are the ignorant people with uneducated opinions. You won’t change anyone’s heart or mind because its exactly as two dimensional as any other illness that has never touched that persons life, so you might as well get a decent laugh out of it, maybe provide a witness with a funny story to tell. Until next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!