Part 14. The Crash
Ok behavior friends, now is where your geeky brains get to run wild with theories. At this point some of my reinforcers may be obvious. As the story continues it will become more clear. My negative reinforcers are also becoming more visible….
I spent my 30th birthday, living with my parents feeling like an absolute winner…. I had always envisioned I would throw a massive party. Death to my 20’s style. I almost threw the party for myself but opted to continue saving for our future home, too embarrassed to ask people to come to something like that for me. I wish I had thrown myself that party. I always loved my birthday, a day for me where I had a good enough excuse to not be helpful. I was allowed to “selfish” for my birthday because I was my day. As much as I loved my birthday I had never been celebrated the way I craved to be. I secretly begged to be celebrated in a way that said, We love you, we are happy you are here, we put all the things that make you happy together, we put forth effort to make you and only you feel special.
Don’t get my wrong I have been celebrated, I have been thought about and surrounded by love and I am grateful for all of it. Just never felt quite right, it still often felt like an afterthought or an a last minute idea or a convenient time to pair with something else already happening. It never felt that important to those around me, and I blame no one for this. Never had I asked or indicated I wanted to be celebrated in that way, still could not fathom the idea of asking for what I wanted.
I knew that for my 30th, I needed to ensure I did something special just for myself. So I booked a Death to my 20s photoshoot, complete with smoke bombs. At this point I had regained between 30-40 pounds of what I had originally lost. My confidence was in the toilet and I did not feel prepared for this at all. But I picked out a variety of sexy black outfits that would, fingers crossed, give me the boost I needed to feel a little bit better about myself and life.
I am forever grateful for the photographer and friend that took these pictures for me. She made me feel like an absolute Goddess for that afternoon, despite the insecurity. She planted a seed, I didn’t know would later change everything for the better. As we were wrapping up, a murder of crows flew overhead. She was so excited, I didn’t get it. She told me that was a beautiful sign for transformation, a time for change. She told me about the Morrigan, and the meaning behind the crows. Lighting ran through my body at her words, full body chills. That’s new and weird.
While I waited sort of patiently for my photos, I celebrated my actual birthday with my hubby in an impromptu day in Boston. He took me out for a day full of enrichment. I am so grateful, but still felt like something was missing. I still felt like an obligation to celebrate.
If you are wondering where the FUCK the hero dog is, again its coming patience pants, his story took me a while to figure out. Best and worst dog remember? Just Kidding Rowie you are a delight….mostly. I do love you though buddy, I mean your face is permantely inked on my back, I know now its because you have it covered. I am sorry it took me so long to realize.
The day after my birthday Ryan and I woke to Rowan having a seizure at the end of our beds. A first, of a long battle to help him. We are so grateful to vets that have helped him so much.
Although I have not yet completed the research I need to on this theory, the possibility was confirmed that my emotional state of this time, being a catalyst for this condition to surface. So basically, I likely activated my dogs seizure disorder because I was such a fucking disaster. Awesome, add that to the list of things to feel like shit about.
To top off the Birthday Week from Hell, Ryan and I got covid for the first time.
