re-entry and recovery.

I am beyond grateful to have been chosen for a scholarship to attend this years, Kevin’s Song: Conference on Suicide. Having been directly touched by the suicide of someone close to me, I’m fairly passionate about mental health and suicide prevention. 

This conference is days of very valuable training from morning until late afternoon. One day I was able to get registered for both safeTALK certification and QPR. I am very happy to add that to my toolbox! Frankly, if you ask me, all of this should be as important as learning CPR. I can’t say enough great things about this conference and the days of training! If you find yourself in a position to be able to go, you absolutely should. There was a beautiful “Memorial Forest” to remember those that have been lost to suicide. The lit trees full of memorial birds was very moving. 

On the flip side of that, I’m not sure hubby, or the kids, are too thrilled to have had me out of town for a few days. No one was home to cook, which is a problem for hubby. When he picked me up to bring me home he wanted to have dinner. I was still stuffed from my lunch. I told him that lunch that day had been: short ribs, fingerling potatoes, spinach salad, grilled vegetables, roasted vegetable ravioli, mac and cheese, baked chicken and a chicken pot pie soup. Apparently he had McDonald’s. Again. Reminded me of when we were just kids and dating, well I was a kid, he was “old”. I’d leave his apartment before a holiday and he’d say, “Tomorrow is a holiday. McDonald’s is closed. What am I going to eat?”

I’ll be honest, I was afraid to come home because I didn’t know what crap-show I was going to find. Re-entry always stinks, and the recovery process to get things back to the way I left them is nearly never worth the time away. On first glance I was pleasantly surprised that it really wasn’t that bad. I made a bee line for the bathroom before my bladder exploded, because ya know, I didn’t have to go until we left.  Anyway, I was deep in thought about how maybe we’ve crossed into the land of self sufficiency where no wife/mom is required to manage anyone’s life. Then I reached over for the toilet paper, just as hubby yelled out, “oh, I forgot to tell you. We ran out of toilet paper.” Maybe not. I asked him if he knew when the right time was to mention that. He did at least recognize that the right time had indeed passed. At least we’ve cleared that up. 

Moving on to the laundry, where I’ve asked a million times for people NOT to help me. I appreciate the intentions, I do. That said, I do things my way, and that is of course the right way. I have to be near death sick and/or tired to not care what goes on with my washer and dryer. I went in ready to tackle what was there and there wasn’t much. The mysterious laundry helper managed to use up almost an entire brand new bottle of fabric softener AND a 5 lbs of what they thought was OxiClean. I had dumped a bunch of open containers of Epsom Salt in that OxiClean tub before I left. Surprise. I have no idea what went on with the fabric softener. I had a full container of it. Now what remains is just a splattering of fabric softener dried all over the counter and cabinets. It looks like evidence of a struggle. I asked who did laundry while I was gone. Once again, Not Me, was to blame. I’m decide to let it go, because, well, why not? No one is going to confess and no one is interested in learning the proper way to use fabric softener anyway. 

It’s going to take me at least a week to right the ship after having left for a few days. It’s nice to be needed. Right?