• mood: sore
• listening: nothing (but I have "Teeth" by The Haunt stuck in my head)

I woke up this morning with an absolutely terrible migraine, which I still sort of have, though the caffeine from my dirty chai latte is helping some. this whole summer I've taken to drinking homemade dirty chai lattes prepared very specifically. first, I mix powdered dextrin fiber and maca, then add a teaspoon of Kroger's instant coffee and mushroom mix, and then I steep it with a teabag of chai for a half hour. I try very hard to avoid eating or drinking within 30 minutes of brushing my teeth, so that gives it time to steep and get nice and strong. then I finish with a splash of cold brew flavored protein shake. the whole thing ends up being both something caffeinated and to put into my stomach. in today's case, I'll need something in my stomach to take a naproxen and get to work. I've also, this summer, been going to the allergy clinic to get shots twice a week, but the fires here in the Midwest have been so bad that I can't do it today. they told me to stay home until I'm done using my inhaler for relief.

I haven't been on here at all, clearly, in about three-and-a-half months. for much of it, it's because I've, mostly, been having so much fun I can't be arsed to get on here--but then things took a very dark turn. my life had been easy, for the most part. games, cards three times a week, good times with the homies. however, I have been dealing with a personal health problem in the background, but trying very hard to not let it dictate my life or how happy I am. the long and short is that The Country Brat and I were in the ddx process of finding out if we have another genetic disease, this one life-limiting. our Ehlers-Danlos syndrome very likely contributed to my grandmother's death at 38, but there were other comorbid circumstances--namely: that she contracted strep throat before antibiotics were accessible--that don't apply to us. her two eldest children, my half-aunt and half-uncle, are still alive in their 80s. I last spoke to my full aunt in July 2025 and my biological father (her twin) in January 2023; my full aunt is probably alive, but I genuinely am not sure if my biological father is, as nobody in the family is in contact with him. he suffers with some other health problems, such as COPD, and had two heart attacks in 2019, but these are almost certainly the result of his lifestyle, as he continued to drink and smoke heavily into his 60s.

anyways, my point with that long, tangential description of health profiles is that finding out we have EDS was devastating enough, and it probably won't kill us. in fact, provided we take good care of ourselves, it will not be life-limiting, only painful and burdensome. finding out we may have something life-limiting was, genuinely, pretty devastating--but I was so, frankly, embarrassed by what a big deal I made of our EDS diagnosis during COVID, that I just didn't even want to bother with it. I thought, either we don't have This Thing and there's no sense in making myself upset for no reason, or we do have This Thing and why should I spend precious moments upset? I just want to screw off with my friends. and so I did.

well, I never expected what happened next.

in mid-June or so, we put in for the testing to see if we had the life-limiting condition. we were genetically counseled, and given the good news that, although we did have some symptoms of the condition, given our family history and mild presentations we would, should we test positive, probably have good outcomes. unfortunately, a few days before we got the results, our good friend Austin passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly from a medical emergency on July 1st. it was not intentional (e.g. via homicide or suicide) nor was it an accident such as an overdose or car accident. he was, for all intents and purposes, a healthy man in his mid-30s. it was absolutely arresting and devastating in ways I still struggle to navigate, and can't completely put into words.

Austin and I (and The Country Pat and Brat) met on March 1st of this year, during our local TCG shop's second Flesh and Blood learn to play event. therefore, our physical friendship lasted only four months. during that four months, though, he and I and Pat--as is true of all of our friends at the shop--became quite close. Austin and I particularly bonded over his regular travels to Madison for a metal festival he loved up there. he was a big fan of all things speed and power metal. I personally am not much for the fast metal subgenres, but we both agreed that Helloween absolutely kicks ass. we also both disagreed, despite loving Madison, on whether or not it is reasonable to live there anymore; he wanted to move there, but acknowledged that it's incredibly expensive and gentrified.

I have really been struggling a lot lately with sort of impostor syndrome as to whether or not it's okay or reasonable for me to miss him this much. like I said, our friendship only existed in the physical realm for exactly four months. am I allowed to feel this much loss for someone who I only knew a third of a year? does it insultingly take away from the friendships he had for several years? but The Country Pat, who is just as devastated as I am--and who I would never tell he's not allowed to be, same as any of our friends at the shop--has reminded me that this loss is just as hard, but for a different reason: we didn't get to have very much time with him, and, as is true for all of our friends at the card shop, we wanted as much earthly time with him as possible. and we don't get to have that now. it's devastating.

days later, the results came in from our genetic screening. we tested negative for all possible mutations and variants associated with the condition. not even a variant of unknown significance (those are sort of "this might be important in the future, but probably not, but we don't know yet, but try not to worry in the meantime" variants that are fine 90% of the time and bad 10% of the time). I so badly want to be thrilled, and I am thrilled for the Brat. not only am I good--which, like, is super cool considering I'm 34 and historically this condition, in its severest forms, causes cancer by 40--but, most importantly, The Country Brat is. (she has been cool as a cucumber through this whole process, generally forgetting it's even something we're going through.)

but it's been really hard to take this good news with losing Austin and be okay with it. like, what are you supposed to do with that? "Oh, you're fine, but your friend has just up and died for reasons we don't completely understand." again: what are you supposed to do with that?! and so my mental health has been really, really poorly for the past month. I have hit a significant low with it. my issues with my self-esteem have returned. part of me regrets that it was Austin and not me but, then again, if it were me, it would likely be for health reasons that the Brat would also be at risk of, and she would be impacted by my absence. it has been excruciatingly difficult to remind myself that I'm meant to be here because she needs me to be okay; I have, at this point, all but completely given up on reminding myself that I'm meant to be here for myself. (ideally, we should've all gotten to make it out of July okay.)

I know this isn't how Austin would want me to cope and grieve. I don't know why I've been like this. I'm going to start taking better care of my mental health with regular therapy and more breaks again. I'm gonna try to get back to a good place again. it's just so fucking hard and this loss was so totally unexpected. I have realized recently that my excruciatingly low self-esteem is very likely itself a symptom of my OCD. can hating yourself be an obsession? I think it can. it's time for a big change, in that case. I have been feeling very guilty that, instead of my thoughts revolving around how difficult this loss has been for everybody, I've been coming back to just how much I suck. and then that feeling of guilt makes me feel even worse about myself. it's a no-win situation. but also, we don't get to choose how we react to grief and loss, especially mentally ill people. (and, ugh, at least I'm not as fucking bad as the person who posted on his Discord that he owed them money at the time of his death, and did anyone know who to talk to about it? I don't know what kind of person you have to be to give a shit about money at a time like this.)

there are a lot of amazing things in the works, though. they've been expanding the shop at a rapid pace, and are going to memorialize Austin in a library in the expanded area, including by retiring his denim vest covered in metal band patches. my job is to reupholster a gaming table. I'm still waiting on quotes from companies about what they'd charge for the materials we need; maybe soon I'll follow-up since it's been about a week. last week was a really bad week for me and I withdrew. this week so far is more okay. I guess the only thing one can do is just take their mind off of it. or maybe not. maybe that's why I'm in the situation I'm in to begin with. the one thing I am certain of without measure: I'm so glad our community has each other. we are all in this together. that's the thing. I have only been going to the shop about five months now, but these are people I would now consider to be lifelong friends, in the ways my bandmates were back in the day.

anyway, my point is that I am broken and suffering, but hopeful. life is a precious gift from God. instead of fixating on how I don't deserve the gift, it's time to do the best with it I can.