The Reaction (And How Everything Started Sliding)

No one — including me — was prepared for what came next.

Days after getting the tattoo, I developed a reaction. Uncontrollable itching. It wasn’t mild. It was relentless.

I went to the doctor. I’d already been taking Benadryl to help and it did… a little.

They prescribed Prednisone.

I didn’t think anything of it.

If it helped, great. I assumed that’s what they do for allergic reactions.

But this is where everything started to go downhill.

I had just run out of my anti-anxiety medication.

So now I’m on Prednisone without the meds that normally keep me stable.

At the same time, Kat and I were trying to get our houses ready to list so we could buy a place and move in together. Cleaning two houses for listing is stressful on its own.

But I wasn’t in a good place.

And I wasn’t ready to be cleaning Alex’s room.
I wasn’t ready to pack any of his things.
I wasn’t ready to confront any of it on a deadline.

But life doesn’t ask if you’re ready.

At the same time, Kat had an injured ankle and couldn’t walk or drive much, so I was taking her everywhere. Then she developed vertigo, which added another layer of worry and responsibility.

None of it was her fault. Not even close.

I was just… carrying everything.

Trying to take care of her.
Trying to take care of Jason.
Trying to get houses ready to sell.
Trying to survive.

And my brain — already grieving — became a pressure cooker.