15

All Sorts

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My favourite author, Emily Carr wrote a book called, The House of All Sorts telling about her time of owning a boarding house in the early 1900’s. It makes me think of this post about being about all sorts of things. It also reminds me that I should reread her book but I am not kidding, I keep buying books and can’t begin to read all of them. I used to have a stack stacks on my nightstand and more on my dresser. Finally I just decided to bring a small bookcase into my bedroom. Last week I decided to do a cull. There is no better word for it because my books are friends and it feels just like a cull. Anyway, I ended up sitting in front of my bookcases for a couple hours, got rid of one small box but not really because it’s still sitting there and brought at least a dozen upstairs to read again.

The weather here has been cool and so dry. It’s a little scary when it gets this dry so early on. Today I planted some marigolds and petunias. There were some leftover that wouldn’t fit so I will plant those tomorrow. This year I am going to save the marigold seeds and see if I can grow my own next year. The problem here is always lack of sun so will see how that goes.

img_1900Today I went to buy some new curtains for the downstairs bedroom. It ended up taking hours. First I went to Jysk but didn’t like anything they had. Then I tried Overstock.com but it was all Overpriced. Then I tired Walmart and it was all crap. The website shows you the same items over and over again and it’s all ugly garbage. I also tried Lowe’s and a few different places until finally finding something at IKEA. I have never bought a thing at IKEA, autocorrect is capitalizing IKEA, in my life. I don’t exactly hate what I bought but I don’t love them either. They are going to be 8 feet long. That pisses me off because I only need them to be about 4. Now when they arrive I have to cut them and get out my sewing machine and buy thread and get a proper needle and set up the machine and a whole fucking tadoo. It will end up making me so mad, I just know it. I just want to buy curtains that are already the right length and be done with it.

I think I mentioned in another post that I’m going to the Unity church. And Tai Chi. I’m enjoying both. The Unity church has a group that studies A Course in Miracles and it’s freaking me out. Does anyone know about ACIM? Tell me about it, please because something is not sitting right with me.

Norbert is freaking out right now because there is some paper on the ground. I tried to take a picture but he ran away.

The hospital trauma helicopter is going over my house right now. That means someone isn’t having a good day.

The last few months have been brutal for my depression. I tried a new med that didn’t do a thing except made me gain 10 pounds so I am on a different one now, Effexor. It seems to help so I am cautiously optimistic.

16

I have not been to church in years. From the time I was very small, even before I could form thoughts, I was drawn to God. Or maybe Spirit is a better word. At 16, I had a born again experience. And it was so real. The scripture that drew me was, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” And it was. I felt clean and loved. Until I didn’t. Until I got told over and over that my righteousness was as filthy rags. That I got told that everyone was going to hell and I was likely headed there too unless I got with the program and stopped questioning. It became all consuming. To the point of being one of the reasons I have a major depressive disorder. There is no getting out of going to hell. No medication. No talk therapy. Just a tormenting life filled with darkness. So much darkness. The odd thing is, when I left the church, I missed the worship. Because that part was real. It was. I can’t explain it. It was just real. The Jesus I was drawn to in the beginning. The gentleman. A man who was a perfect and loving man who loved me so fucking much. And oh, how I loved Him.

It’s been years since I set foot in a church for any reason other than a funeral. Last night I decided to look up the Unity Church. Why? I don’t know. They believe many paths lead to God. That we are not born sinners. That we are enough. That we are worthy. That we are powerful. So I reluctantly went this morning. The moment I walked in I started to cry. And the welcome! I must have been hugged 20 times. The reverend was a woman. That alone is a breath of fresh air. They support the LGBTQ community. My old church never would have done that. These people didn’t look sad or angry or judgemental. I was… loved. I felt loved. Accepted. Accepted. Accepted.

In other news, I joined Tai Chi. Another time this month where I have found my people. Do you know there are no tests in Tai Chi? I have been in Judo and Kung Fu and hated both because of the tests. And in Tai Chi you can’t ruminate on your problems (not that I do that) when you are doing a set. It is all focus on what you are doing.

Tonight I am taking the flannel sheets off the bed and putting on cotton. They are hanging on the line right now. Ahhh, bliss.

Here’s some Norbert porn for those who asked. Laying on my good lace cardigan. (sigh)

 

Addendum- I just removed the lace cardigan. The look on his face was a burning, white hot, furious look of total hatred. Then he fell back to sleep.

 

18

Well, it’s been a brutal few months. There is something this time around that is different and I can’t put my finger on it. A general hopelessness. “Been there, done that”. I have dealt with depression for so long, pretty much my whole life and this time is a time of reckoning, wondering if this is it for me. Is this the way the rest of my life is going to be. Over the years I have tried so many medications and

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy

Mindfulness

vitamin supplements so many different vitamins! B6, B12, Folic acid, Iron, Magnesium, Fish oil, Inositol, Choline…

herbal remedies St. John’s wort, valerian root… meh. I don’t want to list them all.

probiotics

exercise

yoga

meditation

different diets

support groups

counselling

reading books on depression, probably 100 different books if not more

giving up caffeine

journaling

stress reduction techniques

self-care

and the opposite, volunteering

watching funny movies

SAD lamps

changing my sleep habits

losing weight

keeping a routine

trying new routines

goal setting

giving up alcohol even though I only drink a glass of wine of beer a few times a year

marijuana oil

grounding exercises

aromatherapy

acupuncture

music therapy

weighted blankets

Fuck. Do I need to go on? How about I don’t.

Anyway, this time around is different. There is a new heaviness. An exhaustion. I am seeing a new doctor and just started yet another new medication. I am also in a new support group that teaches empowerment and also an art therapy group. I’m on a wait list for the second round to deal with PTSD which I never really considered before other than a quick glance at the possibility but the therapist at the place I go to says differently. Yes. My childhood was awful but didn’t we all have a terrible childhood? I know that I only ever knew terror but I fail to see the impact it has today. Or maybe I don’t want to.

Anyway, I thought I would post today because today is okay. What makes okay days? Why are some days lighter? For no apparent reason there is no anxiety today and the depression is manageable. Odd because today would have been my mom’s birthday and I should feel sad but don’t. Or maybe I feel sad but not depressed.

 

Well, I have a crossword waiting. I mowed the front lawn today and might go mow the back. Or not. Sorry I have been a crappy blogging friend. I’m reading your posts, just not commenting.

13

For My Mom

For my mom who would have been 72 today. She loved Barbra Streisand so this song is for her.

Memory

Midnight

Not a sound from the pavement

Has the moon lost her memory

She is smiling alone

In the lamplight

The withered leaves collect at my feet

And the wind begins to moan

Memory

All alone in the moonlight

I can dream of the old days

Life was beautiful then

I remember the time I knew what happiness was

Let the memory live again

Every street lamp seems to beat

A fatalistic warning

Someone mutters and the street lamp gutters

And soon it will be morning

Daylight

I must wait for the sunrise

I must think of a new life

And I mustnt give in

When the dawn comes

Tonight will be a memory too

And a new day will begin

Burnt out ends of smoky days

The still cold smell of morning

A street lamp dies ,another night is over

Another day is dawning

Touch me,

It is so easy to leave me

All alone with the memory

Of my days in the sun

If you touch me,

Youll understand what happiness is

Look, a new day has begun…

16

Last night I had one of the worst sleeps of my life. How I got up and managed to get up and get to work is beyond me. I tossed and turned until 1:00 and slept fitfully off and on until 4:00 and that was it for sleep. At one point I was crying because I was so tired and couldn’t figure out how to straighten the sheets, a normal activity any other time but not when you haven’t slept. I did sleep straight for about an hour so I guess that was better than nothing. I came home from work and remembered I had booked a massage two weeks ago ago and then I cried with gratitude. My employer pays for 10 massages a year and I really needed one. Even after that I managed to go to my weight loss support group and I was down one pound. Seven more to goal. Yeah. Remember in December I was 2 pounds from goal? Never mind. I will get there eventually.

It is coming up 9:00 and I a so tired I can’t think anymore but I do want to thank all of you for your comments. I don’t share anything I share here in my everyday life. I would probably be committed if I did! Anyway, thank you for your wisdom and love. You have no idea how much it means to me.

14

Still dragging through my days here. Everything feels so tentative. Have you ever seen someone’s arms who is On Warfarin (a blood thinner)? The slightest bump or scratch can cause bleeding or bruising. That’s how I feel. As long as I sit perfectly still and don’t move or think I am getting through my days. But life doesn’t work that way does it? Life requires movement. It’s full of bumps and scratches. Except it’s not my arms that are bleeding. It’s my broken brain and heart.

This evening I was in my bath wondering what the point of any of it is. Why wash under my arms? Yes, I know so I don’t stink but I am thinking bigger. What’s the point of eating healthy foods and making my bed and buying new cords so my iPad can stay charged? What the point of getting up and going to work or doing cross-stitch or making Kombucha. Right now, everything ends in darkness. My voice is not heard. My eyes only see darkness. My ears can only tune into the blackness. I am never, ever not tired. As I said a few posts back, what am I doing to deserve this? How does karma work? A lot of you say I bring light to this world. How then are my days and night filled with such heaviness? Or is this payback for a previous life? Or is it only this life and I have angered a Higher Power with my inability to show gratitude for all I have? It’s not just about me. The world is on tilt, we all know this, and yet most people can find pleasure. I can’t seem to do that.

I will end this post with a quote for the movie, The Water Horse. Have you seen it? It’s a beautiful movie about a sea creature who is gentle and kind and brings hope. The mother in the film doesn’t believe he exists. She says,

“What is going on here? Has everyone gone mad? A sea monster? There is no sea monster. There’s just you and your bloody guns! There’s no monster. There’s no magic. There’s just this war and death and people acting insane.”