Pączki are deep-fried pieces of dough shaped into spheres, filled with a sweet jelly or cream and are usually covered with powdered sugar or glaze. For the longest time, I thought the word Pączki was something I had made up. I used to call my ex-husband “my little Pączki” when we were dating. When I found out that it was basically a jelly filled doughnut, he lost the nickname. Over the years, I had searched for the perfect Pączki (the doughnut, not the man) and about three years ago, I found it! They are only available during lent, time was running out, so I placed my order to be picked up, the last day that I could, the Saturday before Easter.
I haven’t had a vacation in over three years, but I was going to have one. On the Saturday before my vacation was to begin, a day I should have had off, I had to work due to an “event” I was required to attend. I had gone out to breakfast before going to work and even though I focused on the floor as I walked out of the now crowded restaurant, panic kicked in. You see, I not only deal with depression, but also its ugly twin, anxiety.
A handful of ashwagandha gummies later, I became fully functional. After work, I drove out to see my pseudo granddaughter’s play. I was worried that another panic attack would hit me, but my eldest happened to call me and in a “unique” manner, told me that even though I had been an essential worker and never missed a day, I have not been social in a very long time and therefore, I was like many others in experiencing anxiety about being “out”. Thanks to another handful of gummies and my pseudo daughter’s arm being wrapped around me most of the evening, I made it through the performance and even managed to enjoy it.
I made it through work on Sunday without incident, took care of the last-minute details, locked the store’s door and I was officially on vacation! If memory serves me, I picked up some dinner and started my much-needed vacation with a dirty martini with blue cheese stuffed olives, extra olives please. I fell asleep with visions of my vacation plans dancing through my head. I wanted to get a lot done in the coming week, I had a plan, but would I be able to make it happen?
Day 1 – On Monday, I dug out two of the old garden beds in my backyard. I was proud of the stamina I displayed. I had sore muscles, but if I got this part out of the way, it would make it much easier for the work I had planned on Thursday when I had help arriving. I made it to the hardware store and arranged for soil to be delivered the next day. That evening, I watched the news with my youngest and we both agreed that we needed to take them seriously about the possibility of food shortages. I didn’t sleep well that night.
Day 2 – First, I had the front yard tree trimmed. Having that done, I would have the trimmings I needed to help fill my new raised garden beds. It was a sunny day and after hearing about all the possible food shortages this fall, I decided to heed their warnings and stock up on more canned goods and other pantry items. It was perfect food-hoarding weather, but I may have over done it because carrying in, all that I bought, was quite arduous. As exhaustion set in, so did anxiety. However, I had soil being delivered, so I had to put on a “face” and count the 50 bags as the young men delivered them one by one. Now I had what I needed to plant a garden, you know, in case of the food shortages, but what if two raised garden beds weren’t enough? I promptly ordered two more.
Day 3 – A rainy day, perfect for getting all of my household cleaning done. I knew I had my work cut out for me, but I didn’t expect the layers of filth I would encounter. Sweeping and dusting and dusting some more. I would mistakenly look up and find more cobwebs and knocking them down forced me to clean again what I had already done. I got down on my hands and knees and washed the kitchen floor and if I was going to do that, I needed to keep going and do the porch stairs. I kept going and going like I was on a mission, cleaning and cleaning until I just couldn’t do it any longer and dragged my stressed-out-self up the stairs to take a shower. As the water ran down my battered body, I sobbed out loud, “I just wasn’t able to do enough, I would never be able to do enough.” No matter how much I cleaned, it would still be an old house in need of repair and all I was doing was moving dirt from one place to another. I managed to get myself dressed, grab a glass of water and reach out to my pseudo daughter. I wouldn’t have her arm wrapped around me this time, but she managed to help me, just the same.
Day 4 – I had the supplies ready for my crew to arrive. My youngest, my brother and a long-time friend came to help me build and fill my two new raised garden beds. I had the garden bed supplies, food and beer at the ready, the only obstacle we faced was the wind. It was a blustery day, but I moved my car so we could work in the garage and we were successful. That evening, I told my therapist all about my panic attacks and how I was feeling like I just couldn’t do enough to be prepared, how I felt that all my cleaning and preparing were a way of me gaining some control over my life. He told me that I should record my efforts and post them and so I am. He may have meant more like making a YouTube video about gardening, but this will do for now. However, I took pictures, just in case.
Day 5 – I wasn’t positive, but it was likely that the other two raised beds would arrive today. I only had my brother to help, but we planned the work and worked the plan. We dug out the other two old garden beds, laid down some weed blocking cloth and decorative rock and luckily, the garden beds arrived! We were tired, but I knew if we stopped, we may not start up again. We had dinner plans, but I knew if we kept going, we could accomplish both! The winds picked up, so I moved my car out of the garage and we continued to build the two garden beds as the rain came down. It was an eight-hour work day, but we did it. All that was left was to fill the two new beds, which I could do tomorrow. We went out to dinner to one of our favorites, Merichka’s and I forgot about my anxiety. Driving home, I was cranking my tunes and my brother said that I should have my own show, Groovy Gail’s suggested music because he was really liking the songs I had on my playlist. Now mind you, he was feeling no pain, but I liked the suggestion and appreciated the sentiment.
Day 6 – I woke up early and began moving soil. About an hour later, my brother joined in. Two hours later, we were done! I now had four new raised garden beds to grow whatever my little heart desired. My brother told me that I should do a show, Groovy Gail’s Garden. I liked that! Maybe not a show, but I would definitely want a sign in my new garden! I really appreciated his encouragement…a lot. We cleaned up and I was going to treat my brother to my newly found favorite seafood haunt, but more importantly, we had to pick up the Pączki. My brother kept making fun of my obsession with them. He kept mispronouncing their name and asking what the big deal was. Well, when we got to the bakery, we were both surprised at how I had to drive to the back of the store, get a number and park in line to receive my order, there were that many people there to pick up their Easter goodies! He kept asking what was so special about these doughnuts? When we got home, I presented him with one. I watched his eyes widened as he took his first bite into the delicious decadence known as Pączki. “This is good!” he uttered while licking his lips…enlightenment.
Day 7 – Easter Sunday, the last day of my vacation. No yardwork today and I began my morning with a hot cup of coffee and a Pączki. I sat quietly in my at-home office savoring every moment. All I had to do today was cook and eat a delicious Ham of Hope meal. After a bit, my brother woke up and laughed as he caught me enjoying my guilty pleasure, then he did the same. After consuming our Easter feast, we sat in the backyard and reflected on our accomplishment. He asked me what I planned on growing. I told him that I had a lot of seeds to choose from, but I listed the usual suspects. Somehow, the conversation came back around to my anxiety and how I am always scared, “I think I was born scared.” is what I said. He told me that I had nothing to be scared about, that I have a good job and a home. What I didn’t say was that I knew that, but I’m always afraid of losing them, always struggling to feel some sense of security, some sense of control in my life, something he just doesn’t understand. Maybe it’s because he is a man, maybe it’s the differences in our genetic codes, but he is always confident and me, not so much. I held back the tears as we said our goodbyes and I went back to work, because it gives me that sense of security I yearn for.
After I cleaned up the kitchen, I took out the last Pączki. I sat at my desk and while savoring the last bites of the season, I decided to do the one other thing that helps me feel a little more in control, and I began to write. I always worry that people will think poorly of me for speaking my mind, speaking the truth about my insecurities. I know people want to read something more cheerful and positive, but that is not how I’m feeling today. Maybe tomorrow will be different, but this blog is my way of working through my thoughts and feelings and they are not always going to be lollipops and rainbows (and unicorns, can’t forget the unicorns), and you know what, that’s okay.
You want to know why I believe that to be true? It’s because, even though this may be the last Pączki that’s only true for today and tomorrow, but ten months from now, I can get another one. Knowing that, gives me hope. Lord knows, I can be patient, I’ve had to be, too many times to recall. I may not have all that I want today, but I have much more than I need and focusing on that pushes down the anxiety and depression and allows me to keep moving forward. I’m doing all that I can to be prepared, but there’s so much that is beyond my control. I know I need to let go of trying so hard, I try so hard, you have no idea how hard I try to do all that I can, with integrity, to take care of myself and others as well. I keep telling the universe that I want to triple my income, working half as much, doing something that I love that helps others as well. Maybe that something will be the Groovy Gail Show, could be, I don’t know, but in the meantime, I will keep writing my stories and documenting my efforts. I am the storyteller, and my story is far from being over. To be continued…
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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