feeling rough?

people have been feeling edgy. edge-y.

the good news is that it will pass. the bad news is that it probably won't pass fast enough. the real news is you don't give a shit about later, because now is hard.

i can't tell you anything you can't refute, even if i am right. that's how powerful our emotions can be. that's how we convince ourselves all kinds of things are true.

look around, you think you aren't fallible to all kinds of prey? physical predators, mental predators. external predators, internal predators. see those being preyed on around you? see how they tell you they're fine, tell you they can cope? sometimes we aren't fine. sometimes it's not worth coping, sure.

but even when we feel boxed into a corner, the show ain't over. if you think you only have one choice, i can guarantee you have forgotten something.

sometimes we want to see big change fast. sometimes we think we can't wait, it's not worth waiting or waiting won't change anything.

but who judges a party at eleven o'clock? stay until it's over. stay until four. stay until the cops shut it down or it ends in breakfast.

if you're having a bad time, i have several things to say to you:

- me too. sucks eh? ah well. i've got some things i want to do and while i'm trying, i'll drink some water and talk to you.

- yeah that happens sometimes.

- i know someone who was having a bad time and then figured out some of their needs and got some met (not all, but hey, they're still working on it) and now they feel better.

- tell me.



sometimes when i'm doing a sewing project, it gets all knotty. i get frustrated when that happens. i was working, and then some tiny twist of thread fucked it all up.

at these times, i am very tempted to quit. sometimes i want to burn the whole project.

if i am lucky, i take a deep breath, cut the string, tie it off and start over. it takes longer, but i get it done.

if i am feeling especially choked, maybe because it has happened several times or other things have frustrated me already, i have to leave the project, leave the room.

today that happened. i feel like it's some kind of conspiracy, like the threads are out to get me.i can hear their evil laughter.

when i am feeling persecuted, that's when i know there is something else at work in my brain. so i go upstairs, pour myself a glass of water, and express myself in some way that comes more easily. work it out of me.

i'm lucky today that this feels easy. some days, everything feels hard. some days i give up, and go watch tv. some days i do something that i know i can do, and then at least i can feel slightly proud of myself when i am done.

i'm not confessing or giving advice, i'm just talking to the people who feel edgy. i feel it too. 

random

check out this neat publication i found on the internet regarding depression, written by some folks at the university of coimbra, portugal. they worked with ninety people, "patients suffering from depressive symptoms and/or that find compassion difficult or scary." i love it. compassion can be terrifying. 


"For people suffering from depressive symptoms, having been shamed by an attachment figure may be a major block to develop self-compassion and receive compassion from others and may constitute an important obstacle to recovery."


amen. 

...

my friend committed suicide monday night.

i had known her for about ten years. she gave good hugs. we shared long ones. she danced. brighid and i stayed with her when we went up to the city last winter. before that, i hadn't seen her since the summer, at a festival. she sat in hank with her cute blonde friend, and we all chatted.

when i stayed with her at her hobbit cottage, we sat up late one night and drank a bit of scotch, and talked. we talked about a lot of things, including depression. she spoke of how she had been traveling in her youth and got really, really sick. after that, she lived with depression. that's just the way it was. she tried a lot of things, and they would work for a bit, but then.

she was doing pretty well at the time, had a book that was reminding her. i forget the title but i can see it. i remember looking at the book, and it seemed familiar, like i had seen it years ago when i lived in cloud nine. i remember wondering if it would help me with my own depression.

she seemed optimistic. she seemed tired.

we wanted to play cribbage, but she couldn't find the board. she looked really hard, too. she was pretty focused on it. eventually we played just keeping score on paper.

i wonder who will take her three cats. 

full moon my arse.

bad day. not the kind that leaves a scar, just, you know:

throwing something at the garbage and missing;

getting peed on (and then forgetting to change my pants);

a baby who doesn't want to eat but still has a bottomless pit;

a cat who flees early in the day and isn't seen again for hours (someone knew when to clear out);

getting up two hours earlier than normal for no reason in particular;

that empty feeling of nothing to look forward to;

forgetting the recycling when going for a walk, checking the mail but it's empty;

not doing yoga;

being plagued by dishes and laundry all day;

cold toast;

cold coffee;

near tears;

burned the grilled cheese sandwich that was supposed to make me feel better;

the newly cleaned high chair getting exceptionally dirty (wet dirty, how obnoxious);

poop;

apathy.

trying to list the good things, or at least the bad things that haven't happened, but it feels like thinking of starving children in africa just to make myself feel less pathetic, you know? bad days are bad days, no matter what the scale. some days i don't care if there is food in my fridge. i know i should but i don't. so what if i didn't break a glass? woo me. so lucky.

i don't feel comfortable with the plan for the near future, so it's difficult to look forward to something. and true to myself, i don't have a plan i would prefer, i just don't like the one we are making.

okay, there's my witticism-free late night post. onward and hopefully upward.

blagga blagga blag

internet, oh yeah.

i've been up in the city with the dumpling, and staying with the wife (we still discuss how she's the husband, and how we're both wives, and how inappropriate it is to describe our relationship with such an analogy). her new place is really cute, and really tiny. also, really internetless until this evening. so of course we're both sitting beside each other, (b)e-ing.

it's nice being up here. firstly, because i'm still depressed. this is helpful because it's information. i know i'm not depressed due solely to location. in fact, conversing with a friend led me to the realisation that after all i've been through in the last year and a half, i probably merit 'coming down' a bit. it's inevitable to have some plateaus. after the dizzying heights and rocket ship trips of late, these plainsy places might feel a tad blah. so that's how i feel. it's reasonable. it will pass. it isn't a tragically deep cesspool of postpartum blues from which i will never arise except as a wraith of a woman, shrouded in grey, wispy, shapeless sweaters.

it's also lovely to miss my manly queen. we've been talking while i'm gone. he's visiting the guys, eating chinese food, leaving beer cans all over the house, etc. to give credit, he is also being nice to the cat, knowing how much she is suffering. it's nice to miss each other. he misses the dumpling, of course. and i miss him both for myself (ze cuddles) and as a relief from parenting. there are many people here who like to hang out with the baby, but they aren't her dad, on whom i rely regularly and have agreements with (i think). the space has been good for us.

and lastly, the city is good for all the reasons it usually boasts: i have shopped 'locally', picked up cheaper expensive cat food, visited with Da Ladies (stay tuned for dumpling's first 'other hippie baby' playdate), enjoyed walking around and eating indian food, visited the bookstore... plus this time i got a massage, which was awesome. someone rubbing my sore spots made me feel simultaneously lucky and sorry for myself.

as i enjoy myself, i look forward to going home. traveling with a baby is weightier. and my home rocks.

nb: spilled water on computer, have no exclamation mark access. insert heavy emotion where you see fit.

doldrums and ladybugs

doldrums? beat them back. constant vigilance, boo radley! earn your keep!

between a teething dumpling, fall cleaning, driving practice (i popped my highway two cherry! it was terrifying!) and the queen's family, days are passing. the queen and i take turns putting effort in and being moody. the dumpling, being the alchemical production and reduction of our combined essence, puts efforts into being moody (and does a wonderful job!).

the queen's family had a gathering and almost everyone came out, but without their kids. we rode hank out with the dumpling; she was pretty good that night, so i managed to stay up late enough to surprise everyone (they've mostly seen me pregnant, new mom and almost dead, so i think my natural energy level is a bit higher than i've heretofor revealed) and the queen got ragingly wasted, which was good for him. he's still working almost every day and feeling underpaid, which sucks big time. he recently got a raise, but when you're feeling underpaid, how often is the raise enough? not very often. it mollifies, but does not please.

i've been chatting with one of the girlfriends of one of the brothers more often recently. let's call her Bijoux. she's great for empathising with not being a member of a large, passionate family. sometimes i have trouble differentiating natural display of emotion and serious emotional trouble, or friendly ribbing and fighting. it's good to be able to share (and occasionally vent, not gonna lie) about loving a big irish farmboy when we've been raised in a quiet household to be nice polite girls. although she's been in fistfights, and seems surprised that i haven't, which i'm going to take as a compliment.

anyway, bijoux is helping me learn how to drive, but i have accepted that it's time to drive with the queen, even though i think he'll be impatient with me and spike my already over-stimulated adrenal glands. if i keep getting stressed out, will that eventually up my ability to tolerate stress? or will i just crumple/explode into a sobbing, screaming mess? stay tuned!

ladybugs, everywhere. we had an aphid infestation, and now i am literally stepping on ladybugs when i go out. i brought the laundry in and had to pick ten ladybugs just off of our clothing. it's kind of crazy; mother nature, gone wild. (returning to wild? never left wild?) i am out, picking up apples that have fallen and are soft, and i feel like i'm composting ladybugs. on a semi-related note, the dumpling is quite fond of dried leaves.

trouble in hobbiton

been a while since i blogged? not sure; days swim together. the queen doesn't get days off very often anymore so i find it hard to differentiate. there are sunny days and rainy days. i know time passes because i have to water the plants and mow the lawn (ironic, really; here, grow. no, not you!).

i've started a few blog posts, but they just peter out into nothingness. i suspect i fear i have nothing new to share. and i have been writing a lot of letters, which is an indication that i want to connect more on an individual basis, not with a group.

i started this blog as a method to meet a need for expression, but expression with responsibility. in a journal, i can lie to myself, but a blog pushes me to be more honest because someone out there reading could be able to see through my bullshit, and i would rather call myself on it.

i feel bored expressing the same thing: i feel depressed - not horribly depressed, just enough to make the day harder. i feel guilty for feeling depressed, even though it is a reasonable thing that happens to many new parents. i feel guilty because the queen is trying hard to make things nice for me, because he is supporting me while i can spend most of my day in a bathrobe (i don't, but i can - and there's a big psychological difference between working at home and working in public).

i feel trapped in the parenting role, so when i want to talk about the peanut, i cast myself as that person who can't talk about anything else because they have nothing else to bond with other adults over; they don't read the news or take in any art ... they don't have time for introspection.

i feel human when i can go to the city, or when someone takes the peanut for a day, or when we go camping. even though i am just as human when i stare at the dishes for the millionth time and i can't find the energy to do a twenty-minute task because i do it every day, usually twice. but if i am to be honest on this blog, which is the fucking point, i need to find a way to communicate honestly over my typical day, not my atypical day.

so we have identified the challenge. which is enough for me today. we're going to the city for a night; the queen gets this weekend off due to a stat holiday. so i shall feel human briefly again.

a quick tour of the darkness

ugh. depression. gee, is it postpartum, post-surgery, or post-small-town-move? if i pretend it's all these things, i can pretend it's not just in my nature, and that i am currently not doing very much to challenge it from taking over my whole being.

reasons why i blog these days:

- if i don't now, i might never again
- it's pretend personal time!
- it's a chance to hear myself think
- i feel like i have a shred of community here (you!)
- i vaguely remember uncovering deep, meaningful things about myself by sharing personal stuff on the internet where anyone can read it
- it's how i put off doing something destructive like drinking wine in the afternoon or starting to smoke cigarettes
- it's how i put off tedious things i must do anyway, like dishes and cleaning out the produce drawer

before there was the little peanut, i could pretend i would change my whole life tomorrow. now, i pretend that i can't. delusions; still my favourite game! i stumbledupon this quiz and was mildly shocked by its accuracy (it gave me discomfort, which is always a shot close to home). my prognosis was that i isolate myself from those closest to me, cut myself off from pleasure and feel like any change i could make wouldn't make much of a difference. uh, yeah...

crisply depressed; like deep fat fried emotions

let me start this post off with a musical recommendation for those among us who are feeling depressed, with shout-outs to this sweetheart and this poor sod (who wrote and starred in a cool video but man does he ever seem low). seeing these people depressed reminds me we don't have to be ugly or poor or otherwise destitute to feel depressed. they honestly seem like smart folks, and they're both cute. depression: illness for the successful among us. (it seems to help to live in a developed nation, and perhaps be white.) i wonder if all of us were dropped into circumstances of extreme physical challenge, would our emotional problems resolve themselves in a poof of perspective? likely.

we are who we are. i thought being pregnant was rough, but now i think facing an imminent c-section when i'd planned for a home birth is way, way rougher. no doubt there is a corner i could turn whereupon this reality would feel like a fucking parade.

most of the time, the old "hey, it could be worse" option does not make me feel better. like drinking water upside down to cure the hiccups, it's been used one too many times for it to be effective any more. but every now and then (usually just after things have gotten worse) it feels like the truth it is.

i've been feeling totally wrapped up in my own problems, which aren't major on a scale of zero to "is your baby dead?" but merely disappointing like "oh, your vacation got cancelled. sucks." and reading the poor sod's blog while not terribly enjoyable nonetheless sparked in me the reminder that not everyone is wrapped up in my pregnancy. thank god.

(side fear: what will stop me from becoming domestically disabled? i mean, today i made cake to solve my problem. gingerbread cake. with whipped cream and pineapple. it actually worked - i feel way better. but i fear this blog will turn into "this is what my baby did today" and "great new recipe, guys!" do we really need another blog like that? i really prefer the "read this, listen to this, try this emotional process it worked for me" kind of blog i have maintained up til this point. which i suppose we also don't need more of. anyway.)

where was i? oh yeah, not defined by being pregnant - still human, just with a kicking dolphin brewing escape plans out the emergency hatch of my uterus, instead of the door. human. which, given that it's a windchill of minus thirty outside, would probably involve cake and goulash (well, sort of goulash - some substitutions ended up happening) were i empty-of-womb.

really, the major difference with me now and me not-pregnant is that i would probably have gotten stoned today. which would have made for a fuzzier entry. admire the crispness. and listen to the song; it's all i can share since you aren't coming over for cake. at least i've spared you a tale of how difficult it was to clip my toenails today.

unravelling

i really like this xkcd comic, mostly for the message in the scrollover. i have an amazingly good ability to make myself feel like shit for feeling like shit. i've been practicing said ability for years, so it makes sense that i'd be good at it by now. being smart and able to form decent arguments are skills that can be put to use when flogging oneself. none of this explains why i would do it, but then, science doesn't tell us whether we should make the atom bomb, does it? that would be the messy realm of ethics.

various statements can be made for self-torture: "it feels so good when i stop." i think that's the brief relief from the derisive scowlings of the inner hater (outer pain takes away from inner pain). willing participants in flagellation exist in various religious practices: sometimes for the altered state the suffering brings, sometimes it's seen as pleasing to god to welcome and appreciate the suffering.

(there's also the erotic aspect of pain, which i am not going to talk about here.)

in the environment of privilege and psychology, self-punishment is regarded more as egotistical dwelling on one's personal state. we are encouraged to think positively, and to take personal responsability for our emotional state (notice that's still quite ego-driven). all kinds of messiness can happen through following this advice too strictly; people end up feeling responsable for lousy things that have happened to them. (we cause our own rapes and our own natural disasters, have you noticed?) or people repress pain and trauma to "focus on the positive", but denying your arm is broken won't help it heal faster, it will just make you look delusional.

so it seems to me that we are at a loss for how to deal with suffering. we don't have a healthy relationship with it. dwell or deny; what is healing? how can we be whole through pain and trauma? through practicing patience and compassion toward ourselves. how can we acknowledge our own participation in our suffering (we do have will, after all) without trying to take all the blame? (this one's trickier.)

i was reading through old journal entries; i have almost completed the journal i began when i was falling in love with the queen. he was in thailand, i was dog-sitting. there is a portion of entries from early in the pregnancy; i hadn't told anyone outside of the gnome home, was having morning sickness, struggling with the queen to get on the same page and figure out what we were going to do. reading these old entries was illuminating; our love has evolved, through struggle and patience on both our parts. we have become a stronger unit. sometimes it is easier to focus on the things we still struggle with, and to look toward the future like it looms in front of us, ready to break our wills and destroy our relationship. (i have seen so many breakups occur in the first two years of a child's life. yes, i feel terrified.) so any reminder that we have come a long way is a good reminder.

i'm not going to pretend that everything is perfect for the queen and i. i am not going to buy into a false family image and try and paint it over us (though i admit i have been buying christmas ornaments with the dream of "our tree"; the only part of christmas i like is the tree part). moving toward the positive without shedding all the weight (that weight sucks now, but sometimes the things in that bag will help you later) is a delicate balance. i struggle with anything delicate. the fear of breaking it sometimes inspires me break it just to get it over with. another version of "it feels so good when i stop" translated as "it feels so good when the voices in my head that tell me i am going to fail finally stop".

i know there are aspects of our relationship that suck for one or the other or both of us; i know we have no easy solutions to these, and sometimes don't even agree on what the source or identity of the struggle is. sometimes it's a different struggle for each of us. i don't know what will happen to us; will aspects of our relationship turn septic? will healing together make us stronger? asking myself these questions feels draining, so i try and just do what i can now. and not try so hard to make it better that i miss enjoying it now, for what it is.

at the end of all this ruminating (dwelling?) i have no more answers; the way is not illuminated. but i do know a bit more about why i feel this way, which helps me when conversing with those voices. "i am doing the best i can, voices. what are you doing to help?"

blue, moon.

blogging from north carolina, with the ocean outside. the only thing separating me from the ocean is the balcony of the hotel room, a smallish sand dune and the beach. a few hours ago, the full moon was shining a gorgeous path on the ocean, and it reflected into our room.

oddly enough, i've felt a little depressed. warm weather is not a cure-all. mostly i think it's just the ongoing driving. since nova scotia, we've been driving every day, for most of the day. this means i haven't been walking, yet i haven't been still. we've been eating pretty well, and it's nice not to have to turn the heater on at night, but i miss being still. i miss being in the same place tomorrow as i was yesterday. i miss my cat (yes, i know this bit is getting repetitive. too bad).

today we booked into this lousy hotel room - the view and location are great, but the occasionally non-functioning elevator, closed-for-the-season pool and "wireless" internet (upon request, the lobby furnished us with an ethernet cable, which means we take turns using our computers to thirstily connect with the rest of the world and its resources) are crappy, and this place isn't much cheaper than the wonderful b&b we stayed at in newfoundland. the queen rented a bike and went off to some sand dunes. i wanted time to myself, but when i got it, i just moped. yesterday was tough physically; it felt like hosting a chicken-fighting contest in my belly. today has been rough emotionally; tears twice before two in the afternoon, and feeling depressed and overwhelmed until sundown. i turned to m&ms and crappy television to feel better. like most bandaids, it sort of worked. reading sort of worked. journalling sort of worked. a hot shower sort of worked. eventually, i was able to talk myself into a place of sort of working.

one of the troubles i have with feeling depressed is that i want to figure out "why now". it's never a good time. there are always great things happening i could be focusing on instead. i usually feel added guilt that i am not appreciating those elements of my life, whether they be wonderful surroundings, one-of-a-kind events, great people or beautiful weather. conversely, there are so many times and situations and combinations of things that could easily add up to depression, but i don't get depressed, and i'm curious why not.

i know that trying to find a reason is my effort to exert control over the depression. i know i want to solve it. i don't think this is actually helpful; it's a kind of dwelling that fools itself into looking like constructive action. it is not meaningful reflection i am doing here, but a ruthless perusal, looking for cracks, for faults. this is not healthy. it is a coping mechanism.

i think the best thing i can do for myself (see, i typed "to myself" and then realised that the doing "to myself" instead of "for myself" is the same example of unhealthy behaviour) is just keep on keeping on; mix up my acts with acts of health that i find difficult and weighty (having a shower, making a meal) with acts of nurturing (curling up with a book in the sun, having one glass of wine). so i did that. shower, laundry, m&ms, crappy tv. tomorrow i can say i did good, but also rewarded myself in decadent ways. i will have something to show for today, and i will not feel so emotionally poor.

minor precipitation

sometimes i check my own blog and am surprised it hasn't been updated. i try and record my life: working, sleeping, meetings; pretty unblogable stuff. sorry.

lots of feeling left behind in my own life by my own self. forgetting to relax, not taking time to type letters or journal, piles of laundry and books on my floor get swept up in random cleaning frenzies and then immediately start piling up again. crocheting left in the bag. cookie flour left in the bag. new clothes from the free sale forgotten. a newly discovered book from classic irish author edna o'brien, who i keep an eye out for, discarded on the floor. yoga mat moldering in the corner.

it feels kind of sad, i guess. well, the sleep has been worth it. the work is part of that agreement where i get to stay sheltered and fed, so unless i'm engaging in long-term thinking on it, no point in dwelling on the meaning. the making of food has been a definite high point: lots of curries with the queen. (tonight we made grilled cheese sandwiches: he has the cutest little breadslice-shaped pan to fry them in. they were delicious.) but after you eat the food, the food is gone.

there have been social connections: gnomes gathering; an old friend from b.c. who recently returned from five months in asia; another old friend who just came over to bend my ear... a few walks in the river valley and some great books... still, it feels like i've barely been present the past two weeks. it feels like my auto-pilot is on too loud.

if you were to ask me how i am, i wouldn't know.

oh this one's exciting. better read this one.

oh yes, long lag, bad me.

worked, went out for the long weekend, met the queen's large irish family, worked through some things that don't matter anymore, failed on a set of responsibilities i had to an event. (much to the surprise of my ego, the event went off rather well anyway. smaller than last year, but also tighter and more fun.)

it was a long week. the week before that one was busy. a busy week followed by a long week sucks ass. so now we're all caught up. i haven't even journalled. the closest i come is staring sideways at the little book, sending it suspicious glances.

today was good. today i slept in, after 'thonning for hours last night. slept in the queen's arms and woke happy. he mentioned this. then when a shadow fell across my face, he questioned the source, and as usual, it was something i remembered needed doing. so i did it, which is a trend i hope to be able to keep going. the alternative is a life of backlogged tasks, which i swear is more deadly than a teenage mugger.

i wish that when i didn't blog, it was because i was doing all kinds of cross-country touring, or climbing mountains. but the best i can manage is hiking around beaver dams for an hour before driving back to the city to make my work shift. which isn't intentional slowness, it's lack of time. at least i am looking forward to the blues musician at the commercial this week. and going to see caribou.

maybe more exciting things do happen in my life, and i just forget them because i only blog every two weeks. who knows.

oh the perspective; thanks science, thanks music.

an interesting blurb about relationships here. there's a bit about online dating, but the part that really touched me, at the end, is about people who suffer from depressive episodes and how it affects their relationships. oh mister mcferrin, can you say it again?

it really is neat though, how simply it divides relational uncertainty. if you are in a relationship (and everyone is in one kind or another) ask yourself the three questions:

• how certain am i about how i view this relationship?
• how certain am i about where the other person wants this to go?
• how certain am i about the future of this relationship?

i am more certain of the last two than the first one. i think i still have trouble trusting myself on relationships. i only just realized they aren't about fixing. so i think i love this person for who he is but what if, in some subconscious way, i am still trying to cut a deal with the universe, with my fate, with my past?

oh well, i resolutely say to myself. we deal with strange bugs under rocks when we find them; no need to unearth the whole field right away.

lastly, if you are curious or concerned about your mental health, read this and check here.

the lows

oh.

the life of it. will the ocean metaphors ever get tiring? only if those waves stop feeling so choppy. i know there are things i could be doing to help myself feel more even-keel. when i don't, i just end up feeling further victim to the choppy weather.

it's odd, how the fierceness of the depression has nothing to do with how happy i am otherwise. because i am happy. except for the bits where i don't do myself justice. and they're still in me, those impulses to choke myself away from light and love. and maybe we all have them, but. and i survive each time, but. and i know i love myself, but. and i am learning to blah blah blah.

is this because i don't accept some deep imperfect part of me? is it the way i was raised? is there some hidden desire to be loved that will just keep crying for help? is it a chemical unbalance? is it a predisposition, and i keep walking the ruts?

i notice that i feel better faster when i use my body as a key to health. yet... the mind is predictably reluctant. is this the result of generations of hating matter, earth, darkness? or is it just fear left over from a stupid gym class?

don't mind the dragon; she pulls the sun across the horizon. (no no, i'd rather sell my happiness to the guy who says he knows how to do it the easy way. the chump inside my mind who tells me what i can and cannot have.)

sigh. another day, another set of arguments. i need to go underneath the words, listen to what's hiding behind the message, what's holding my jaw. i want to sing this out. but my voice feels unheard.

boring

TODAY IS THE GREATEST
sitting at the computer in the wee hours, having come home, gone to bed and now being up again. i am not sure what drove me from sleep, i only know it did. and here i sit.

hung out with an old friend, one of the oldest, actually. straight from junior high. we had dinner, and then drinks, and then more drinks. of course, as always when i am with him, i paid for nothing. we ran into another group of friends, and he bought them drinks, and then gave them a ride home as well as i. this is what happens when we're out with the nicest man i know.

we talked about whether or not to be nice to douchebags. nicest man stated unequivocally that he is nice to everyone at first, but if they're douchebags, he stops. it is such a simple thing, to be kind. it really does not require a lot of forethought or decision-making.

i am looking forward to today. after work, a multidisciplinary salon, filling my evening with art.

DAY I'VE EVER KNOWN
thinking about the future. feels scary. i have been working on the calmness that i need, working on the breathing and the empath exercises. but i still find that i am in a place where today is all i can think of, else i start feeling short of breath. shoulders stoop like i'm pulling a plough. i worry that it's adversely affecting my decision-making. i feel disenchanted with slow things, with subtle things. all in all, it doesn't feel like i am living deeply, rather, skating on the surface of my life.

after writing that, what else is there?

i feel depressed. winter is long, cuddle buddies are in thailand, budgets are eternally tight and everything nice is wearing off like a thin patina, colour fading, tired. i remember when it was warm outside and you could touch the ground with your bare skin.

occasional smiting is healthy

i'm finding in myself right now a readiness to be angry.

there are so many reasons i do not let myself show anger. i think it is a weakness to allow rage to be displayed. it rarely gets me what i want from someone. i do not appreciate other people's anger, so why would i let mine spew everywhere? control is a virtue, i tell myself. it is a sign of my intelligence and discipline that i can control my anger. i remember a zen book by charlotte joko beck which discussed anger. in my poor paraphrasing, a student asked "what about that kind of anger that is like a clean sheet, sweeping over everything, burning away the old and broken?" and charlotte responded something to the effect of "how often do you see that anger? i see only the kind that burns carefully built connections, that wrecks days and relationships."

all in all, the votes cast anger out into the realm of 'bad emotions', or maybe just 'good to know you have 'em, bad to share'. but in the delirium of being ill, my temper was shorter, and i let anger, no, that is not how it went, i do not feel like i 'let' anything... and anger slipped through the cracks of my veneer of control. and it felt wonderful. now i know some kinds of 'good' feelings are dangerous; addictive, seductive, implying more power-over. but i have been reconsidering my ruthless abolition of anger.

for one, anger is generally regarded as a step up from depression. not an ideal state to stay in, but a wonderfully effective stepping stone. stepping to where? if you follow david hawkins (i don't, but i like his chart), on to pride and then courage. if you follow elise lebeau (whom i quite like, despite or perhaps because her ways are so simple), on to boredom, doubt, frustration and impatience. i'm more annoyed at lebeau's path, which suggests something there for me to learn. frustration is not my favourite emotion. i would rather strike it with lightning and move on.

both hawkins and lebeau stress that the emotion you are feeling is less important to your mental health than the direction you are heading in. so i am choosing to see the anger as a healthier step in my development. also, i am trying (and it is quite easy) to let off short bursts of anger rather than smiting someone in a fiery pit of foreverness. and for two, if you value our social interactions as learning, it's important to show people when they have overstepped their bounds. i don't have to scream about their mother, but letting my annoyance show is valuable feedback, and feedback most people will remember.

on a lovely side note, the people closest to me are the least annoying. SF is incredibly warm and loving with increasing notes of attractive vulnerability, and the wife i am moving out on is impeccable in her support. i do not wish to smite these lovelies. rather, i wish to strike with divine lightning people who drive too fast and kill the cats on my street, people who assume i wish to see them when they show up unannounced, people who sneer at the homeless or flaunt their newfound knowledge of beat poetry (okay, maybe the poetry thing i can swallow).

my internal grandma insists that i respect the power of anger: what is done cannot be undone, and apologies certainly mean less to me the more i am hurt. a new toy is fun, says grandma, but what if you hurt people? how will you feel then? however, there is another part of me which suggests that to deny my anger when it is a reasonable reaction is to disrespect myself and my intuitive response. so when is it reasonable? grandma raises a valuable point when she wonders whether i will use anger when i shouldn't: when i am having a 'bad day', when i do not wish to accept that i am wrong, when expressing that i am hurt would be more of an honest reponse. damn, grandma is wise. i absorb this wisdom, hopefully.

watch me flex the sword of anger with care. watch me grow.

books and tea, books and tea

been reading a lot. alias grace, by margaret atwood. it's good to have an atwood or a munro on the go, i find. but i've been meaning to actually dig deeper into canadian. the genre exists. but i like those two authors specifically because they're smart and they don't try to be pretty. the bleakness earns my trust.

as well, an exploration into early sci-fi (and by early, they mean second century early), a series of cheap mysteries set in japan and jeanette winterson's art objects. it's interesting to explore visual art with someone who identifies so strongly with words. i feel relieved.

i guess time has passed, i don't feel much a part of it. i noticed today that the plants were all limp and the flowers looked drowsy. so i watered everyone. it helps. i guess i should do the things happy people enjoy doing. it occurred to me the other day that happiness is quite likely something one practices. i think i secretly have a vague concept revolving around smiles and sunshine and general agreeableness. so i've been practicing that: doing things in a way that gives me a happy feeling. it's hard. i often forget three minutes later and return to general survival numbness. but those three minutes are sunshine, not the light of the fire on the cave wall.

the happy feeling is part feeling cared for by myself, part wind on the face and part something indescribably wild, but calm at the moment.

absurdity and its freedoms

coming out of a depression is a wobbly affair. fresh legs are uncertain, new skin untested, the ways of the world feel unfamiliar. i try and take it easy; don't stay late at work, keep a steady pace, drink tea. build towers out of the play-blocks in our living room.

pet the cat. eat salad. breathe.

occasionally, i feel pulled to one side or the other (i'm worthless, there's nothing here for me. no, i'm priceless! i should be a star! and i'm not, oh, it must be my fault. *and so on*) of the equilibrium. i've noticed another interesting thing about the state of depression: its insistence on absolutes. that's a big part of how it gets me, i think. not that things suck, but that this is exactly how they sucked last time, and they'll keep on sucking, and there's nothing i can do about it. cue doom music, except don't bother, because the awful silence following such a 'realization' is worse.

a big part of feeling better is remembering that "this too, will pass."

it's kind of amusing that that expression seems to bring happy people down. oh well. the same folks probably don't understand why i find existentialism so refreshing.

despair, angst and a meaningless world: it's all we have. sweet relief pours through me (really? no tests? just this? wow).

note: this all ties in with self-forgiveness. it's okay that i'm not a star, i'm still awesome in my own tiny ways, and besides, people are mean sometimes, it's alright that i don't want to parade myself in front of them. reasonable, even. yes, so i am forgiven. time for my current favourite tea.

do it. dooooo it. the forgiveness, i mean. not the tea. (unless you like it. i'm not usually a fan of fruity tea, but this one somehow doesn't taste gross.)

the step back part

i've been writing, but in other places. cataloging my desires, aversions; realizing my motivations for the sophisticated actions i undertake are the same base desires i've always had - security, acceptance, feeling heard.

friend nearly died in a car accident. one of those incredibly important friends who lives far away so i don't get to love her as much as i want to. that was a wake-up call. as usual, even though her life is in chaos, she manages to shed light on mine. in a way i really respond to, because she just quotes me back to myself. can't really argue with that, can i?

finding myself in one of those looking-back-and-hating-it-all times. why i measure my own evolution by progress away from my past is beyond me. i see why it would be natural to do so (different is better, right?) but i would hope that my sense of personal evolution would be a bit more, well, evolved. sigh. to respond to one's environment, to cooperate within it for a more harmonious existence, following the ancient paths of using what each of us does best for the well-being of all, since the well-being of all is crucial to the survival of any of us... how does this translate into yelling at oneself for not doing the things i decided to do? this all sounded so much wiser in a letter to a pregnant friend. i think because i was more willing to accept the mystery of being human and having a brain and a past to mull over. now i'm back to wishing it was a puzzle i could solve and then walk away from.

feeling ruffled, out of place, angsty. argh, i thought angst was done when we hit our thirties. nothing is ever done. replay the past in our heads, knowing even less of it than when it happened.

so, do the things i know are helpful to my own self; a bit of yoga, some cleaning and clearing out in the house, participating in the backyard fire, cuddles with a friend. stop apologizing for being myself, especially when it's unplanned and messy. if i'm going to go overboard, do it with style and energy. and a fucking lifejacket.