We’re all just so delicate. It’s just our nature. Treat others (and yourself) accordingly. Even/ especially the ones that seem to be tough as nails or sharp as wire. Try not to lose sight of that.
Talk to them about how dangerous it is to buy pills online. Fentanyl is ubiquitous and lethal in small doses. Never never take a pull that wasn’t prescribed or purchased legally.
You don’t have to keep it together. Let the tears come. Feel the loss. The big feelings never last long, they are a storm you can weather. Then the sky is brighter afterwards. Grief is medicine when expressed, poison when suppressed.
Sex talk: “Forget about sex.
Just play first.” Forget about making a move and just have fun.
Dance, listen to music together, go somewhere exciting, look at something beautiful, read to each other, play sports, let yourself be seen and encourage them to do the same. Communicate in a hundred ways: talk/send texts/ post on social media, pass notes, whatever.
“Sex isn’t the door to intimacy
Sometimes I think the best way to take care of them is to teach them to take care of others: Littler kids, sick or disabled, those who’ve been left out.
I’m parenting as in most things, staying calm is more than half the battle. Practice keeping your cool in all situations. No yelling blaming freaking out or meanness. Calm rules the day.
Control isn’t safety. Safety is putting in the physical/mental/intellectual/emotional/spiritual work so you’re confident in your ability to address whatever comes your way and thrive, bounce back after getting knocked down.
You have to be in a good place to be able to make good choices.
If you’re run-down, sick, grieving, addicted or in a really bad relationship, etc. you won’t be able to make healthy choices. It’s a catch 22 I know.
My point is that you have to take care of yourself (or get help) so you can be in a position to make healthy, good choices.
A lesson from author Tom Zumba. I hope you’ll never need it:
“There is nothing
nothing
easy about this thing called grief.
Nothing.
But I ask you to please
please
please
say yes
more often than you say no.
Say yes to you.
To possibility.
To hope.
To love.
To life.
To healing.
Please choose the light
more often than you choose the darkness.
Not that there aren't gifts in the darkness.
There are.
But it's often so much easier to find them
the gifts
in the light.
Do all you can to stay in the light.
Please remember that the person you love
so
so
so dearly
lived.
Don't forget that.
He lived.
She lived.
Here with you.
And your relationship continues.
Always.
Don't be so overwhelmed
and paralyzed
and pissed off
that he died
that she died
that you spend most of your time
focusing on their death.
Focus on your life.
Together.
Say yes as often as you can.
Choose light as often as you can.
Remember that he lived as often as you can.
Don't lose her in the details of her death.
This thing called grief is hard
hard
hard work.
But you are stronger than you think.
His book is called Permission to Mourn
Work on developing a “no shortcuts” mode. Looking for a faster/easier/bare-minimum option isn’t always bad. People get paid a lot of money for creating efficacy. But there are times when that approach is wrong. Anything you want to grow from (relationships, school, work, wealth, health, knowledge, etc.) those things deserve your full effort, focus and dedication. Play. Definitely play! But don’t f*ck around.
I hope you don’t have to struggle with your weight. For me it’s been a lifelong battle. Some things I learned are: Listen to your body and eat when you’re hungry. Eat as many vegetables as possible. Ignore the scale and focus on other goals, ones that are in your control such as how long you can run (or dance, or row, etc.) Reading a book instead of plopping down in front of the tv with a bowl of ice cream, saying “no thanks” to a treat. Focusing on pounds lost or gained is deflating. Stay in good shape for as long as you can! Make your health a priority. It’s much harder to get in shape than to stay in shape.