Exhale

So I got home from my road trip last week. Thank God. It was a lot. But it was needed. Like I said before, I was in Denver. It was my first stop. I stayed at my cousin's house and later got to stay at the beautiful home of a family friend. It really helped to show me how I need to aligning myself and my goals with how I ultimately want to live. I was thankful for the experience, in addition to getting to see my uncle.

After Denver, I headed on over to Salt Lake City. I stayed with a friend there, and had a great time viewing the place. Next up, one of my favorite cities, Reno. Reno is kind of quiet and tucked away. I left my coat home (smart move, I know), and I couldn't help myself but to drive through the mountains just outside of Reno, by Lake Tahoe. As always, it was a great drive. I'd always wanted to see the mountains when they were full of snow and they did not disappoint. 

After the mountains and lake, I scooted on over to San Francisco. There really is no way to describe how much I love San Fran. It's so bright (yet chilly!) and high energy. I remember someone telling me some years ago that I came across as someone that would love Berkley and he was absolutely right. I'd love nothing more than being able to attend UC Berkley and get a doctorate in African American studies. Who knows, maybe someday? I ended up staying there longer than I'd intended. My first night, I got a hotel. My second day, I called Ali's mother and we went out. 

That was my first time really getting to speak with her like that. She and I often spoke in passing at Ali's home, but we never really connected like that. Until I saw her in SF, the most contact we had was when Ali was transitioning. Ali had told me to contact her while I was in SF, but I never did before. I honestly wish that I had. She was funny and charming. She was definitely goals in every way. It was pretty dope to hear a 75-year-old woman talk about men, sex, and even money. She mentioned being lonely since Ali passed away, and if I didn't have a son to return to, I would have immediately offered to move into her 3 bedroom home to hang out in San Francisco/Oakland. She allowed me to stay in her home the second night.

Next up, on the road to Los Angeles, what I'd come for. I got a hotel the first night. It wasn't the nicest, but it had a bed and a shower, which is all I'd needed at the moment. I called my former supervisor, hoping to see him, but he was working from home that day, so I decided to stay one extra day. I reached out to a woman who I'd originally met through Fred. She asked if I wanted to crash at her place (heck yes!) and she eventually asked me about Fred. I admitted to her that we'd had a 15-year thing and that I no longer wanted to associate with him. I also admitted that I'd had a lot of shit to put in my car and that I needed help getting it out of storage. She encouraged me to contact him and ask for help. I refused.

That night, she and I and a girlfriend of hers went out to eat and had the most amazing Brazilian food. The following morning, I got up bright and early, trying to figure out how to get things together. I eventually had a "fuck it" moment and texted him, saying "I need help getting my stuff out of storage. Are you free today?" (which I knew he was). He immediately called me and asked when I'd be in town. My response was "I got here 2 days ago." "Oh," was his only response.

Two hours later, I picked him up from his home and we headed to the storage unit. The day before, I'd gone in and tossed a few no longer needed items, leaving a bear bones amount. I'd also decided the day before that I'd take the innards out of the beanbag chair that I'd planned to bring home. We got there and he worked tirelessly to help me get everything into my car. Deflating the beanbag chair was an utter nightmare and I like to think that Andrea was in the clouds, laughing her butt off about the absolute mess we managed to make with that damned thing.

When I first saw him, I was cool. Barely looked him in the eye. I remained angry and hurt about our last encounter. I'd actually sworn that I'd never see him again. Yet he always manages to be right there, when I need him. When he's not being an ass. Once we were done, I offered to buy us dinner. I felt that it was the least I could do, after all he dropped his plans at the last minute and did a fuck ton of physical labor, just to help me. He offered to buy me dinner instead. We settled for Korean barbeque. We talked about our last exchange and I admitted to him that if he'd called  me the same way that I called him, I wouldn't have helped him. "Yes you would" he responded. I gave him the 'if you say so' smirk and maintained that I wouldn't have. I told him that his dickish behavior has been a lot to manage. I said "if I'm telling you that you're being a dick, I need you to hear me." He responded with "I'd like to get to the point of stopping myself before I even get to that point." That actually meant so much to me. That he didn't want to be corrected after the fact, he wanted to stop himself before. Come through, king! Although my plan was to head to Vegas that night, I was beyond exhausted. I asked Fred if I could stay the night as his apartment. He said yes...

The next morning, I got up and showered, ready to face Vegas. I spent so much time in Vegas with my friend last summer that even though it was a Saturday night, I had zero desire to hit the Strip, plus I was still exhausted (I'm getting OLD). I ordered takeout sushi for my homeboy and I and crashed on his super comfy couch.

Vegas was my last planned overnight stop. I left the next day and stopped in Santa Fe. I love Santa Fe, it's so cute. I got some trinkets and a bite to eat and got back on the road. At that point, I'd felt that the trip had been a success. I got my stuff, paid my last bit of storage, and got to process my cousin's death. God, I miss him. Anyway, I was somewhere in Texas, when I was on the phone with a homegirl of mine. Out of nowhere, she starts accusing me of "running from (my) problems" by taking this trip. I explained calmly that even if my cousin wouldn't have died, I still would have done the drive. Simply because I was paying through the nose in storage and my new car note was expensive and I couldn't afford to be paying nearly $200 monthly in storage plus my car note. She didn't hear me. She stated that with my loss of having to move back to Atlanta from L.A., plus other losses, I was clearly struggling and could benefit from a therapist.

I agreed that I could quite possibly be experiencing some depression, but her assessment of me being "in crisis" was absurd. I tried to explain that as a mental health professional, "in crisis" meant that I was going off the deep end. She said that I was "driving cross country, aimlessly" and I attempted to explain that I wasn't aimless, I literally had a very justifiable reason to drive. Sure, had Ali not passed, I probably would have taken a more direct route, but I wasn't working and I had some shit to work out, so why not take a bit longer and enjoy the ride? She even talked shit about my taking out a loan to pay for the trip. I explained that I had to take it then, because my son was on spring break, plus it made more sense to take this trip before I started working, than to begin working and request a week off.

She was undeterred. Even relentless. I was enraged. I ended the conversation, furious. She tried to call me back, but I didn't answer. Then she sent me a long ass text message, trying to again express her concern for me because I'd gone of the deep end and that I need to stop running from my problems.

I continued to drive on home. I felt violated and outraged. I can handle being called out. But I can't handle someone incorrectly calling me out. Depressed? Sure. My last couple of years have been challenging. But running from my problems?! ME?! WHO?! Never!!

I got home and Theo was there. Things had really dried up between us. I'd come to see that he wasn't really the man he pretended to be and I had very little interest in maintaining anything with him. He unloaded the car and brought in all of my storage items.

As I began to decompress from my trip, I thought back on what my acquaintance accused me of. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she'd really been deflecting. She'd actually moved to California a few years before me and had to move back because she couldn't afford it. On top of that, her kids' dad died a couple of years ago. I think that she looked at my travels with envy, because the fact is that I was able to process in a way that she couldn't. I was able to leave my child with loved ones and travel. Even though it was business, she saw my ability to lose a loved one and experience challenges and find a healthy way to escape for a minute and get my head together. She's talked to me about how she doesn't have much support to help with her young children after their father died. What she would have given for a chance to drive cross country alone  to process her loss. So she looked at my trip with envy and wanted to find a way to dismiss what she wished she'd had the chance to do. Which I can respect. But I really resent her throwing up things I'd told her, in an attempt to make me look like an ass.

She called me a few days later. I sent it to vm. She texted me and said that she owes me an apology. I'll talk to her at some point. Just not now.

And things are over with Theo. It felt strange at first. He ended up being very petty and childish. I miss who I thought he was. But I know he's now making some other woman miserable with is controlling bullshit and I'm okay with that.

I've been trying to meditate more lately. I finally finished the book I started a year ago. I'm quite proud of it. Now to get onto getting it trademarked and published. Plus I interviewed for a hospice social work position yesterday, and I'm looking forward to being able to do this. I like to think that Ali's death has helped me be able to help others. He would have wanted it that way.