Sunday, March 4, 2012
Surreality
The last week or so has been surreal. I've worked even more than usual. I have laughed, cried, and decided that the winter of my discontent may be ebbing to a close.
However, I am concerned about friends of mine. My daughter just broke up with her boyfriend and it's the first one she's professed to care about. Other friends' business is not doing well, and will close within the month. It's a time of sadness and endings.
Almost as if in sympathy, the weather in my fair state has mirrored this upheaval. Wednesday and Friday tornadoes pummeled Kentucky and some surrounding states. Photos and images on the news and Internet look like war zones. Many people have lost everything they own. One story, a young woman who graduated from a local high school used her own body to shield her children from the storm and is now in critical condition in an Indiana hospital, suffering life-altering injuries.
Over a month has elapsed since I have written. Oh, I write. Care plans, Systems theory, counseling and case notes, and the usual stuff I need to produce to run my agency. But I itch, literally thirst to do something more.
In a small room in the back of the house sits a writing desk from my grandmother's house. I vowed that when I brought it in that I would sit and write once again, like I did at the kitchen table of my youth. Or the legal pads, notebooks, looseleaf binders upon my knees, formed lap desk. When each word was like tear of blood eked out against the fabric of my imagined future.
It's kind of funny. The past is so important to me, yet I failed my youth by not achieving the future I envisioned so long ago. And only recently did I learn that I do not know my own true past. Strange. By realizing that my hold on self-knowledge is so tenuous, I am freed to create my own.
And so it goes...
However, I am concerned about friends of mine. My daughter just broke up with her boyfriend and it's the first one she's professed to care about. Other friends' business is not doing well, and will close within the month. It's a time of sadness and endings.
Almost as if in sympathy, the weather in my fair state has mirrored this upheaval. Wednesday and Friday tornadoes pummeled Kentucky and some surrounding states. Photos and images on the news and Internet look like war zones. Many people have lost everything they own. One story, a young woman who graduated from a local high school used her own body to shield her children from the storm and is now in critical condition in an Indiana hospital, suffering life-altering injuries.
Over a month has elapsed since I have written. Oh, I write. Care plans, Systems theory, counseling and case notes, and the usual stuff I need to produce to run my agency. But I itch, literally thirst to do something more.
In a small room in the back of the house sits a writing desk from my grandmother's house. I vowed that when I brought it in that I would sit and write once again, like I did at the kitchen table of my youth. Or the legal pads, notebooks, looseleaf binders upon my knees, formed lap desk. When each word was like tear of blood eked out against the fabric of my imagined future.
It's kind of funny. The past is so important to me, yet I failed my youth by not achieving the future I envisioned so long ago. And only recently did I learn that I do not know my own true past. Strange. By realizing that my hold on self-knowledge is so tenuous, I am freed to create my own.
And so it goes...
Sunday, February 26, 2012
You were born during a Waning Gibbous moon
This phase occurs right after a full moon.
- what it says about you -
You love to let people in on the story of how things come together. You know the background of ideas and have a deep understanding of things others just touch the surface of. You can surprise people with your wide variety of knowledge, and they'll remember and appreciate you for it.
What phase was the moon at on your birthday? Find out at Spacefem.com
Sunday, January 22, 2012
And the beat goes on....
So far this has been a strange year.
I've been sick alot. Lots of headaches, lots of fibro and arthritis pain. Suspect my blood pressure is extremely high. However, I still have no health insurance or disposable income, so there's really nothing I can do about any of that.
I've been wanting to write even more than usual. And of course, work has been exhausting me even more, and feeling crappy has sucked that energy right out.
I am actually learning, slowly but surely, that nothing is much of a big deal. My health. My work. My home. My whatever. I have lost it all before and probably will again. But somehow, I keep existing, if only for the sick sense of humor of some Supreme Being/Higher Power. (Christians, do not flood my inbox with heartfelt yet useless platitudes. I understand your faith, studied, got the t-shirt; I am not there and you can't force me. Yet. Of course, if the GOP has its way, I am sure that will change.) So what happens here, stays here and it's not a big deal. Am I certain where these thoughts have come from? Not really. It's either sanity or soul-crushing depression.
Right now I can go either way.
Yesterday I attended a fairly good Al-Anon 12 Step Workshop. It is the second time I have attended such a workshop and the 4th time I have worked the 12 Steps. Then I came home, took about an hour before I got warm again, and then fell asleep reading and slept ELEVEN hours. Usually I can only pull this off when I am severely depressed. And while I know I am going to have to drag my carcass forth to go to work 12-18 hours a day, I really don't have the will or strength to do much of anything else.
Of course, sleeping 11 hours (or more than 6) has the lovely effect upon me of kicking in another migraine, so today I will go forth to do a week's worth of housecleaning, laundry, cooking, and scrubbing. When all I want to do is lie in bed and read. And maybe watch Doc Martin.
I've been sick alot. Lots of headaches, lots of fibro and arthritis pain. Suspect my blood pressure is extremely high. However, I still have no health insurance or disposable income, so there's really nothing I can do about any of that.
I've been wanting to write even more than usual. And of course, work has been exhausting me even more, and feeling crappy has sucked that energy right out.
I am actually learning, slowly but surely, that nothing is much of a big deal. My health. My work. My home. My whatever. I have lost it all before and probably will again. But somehow, I keep existing, if only for the sick sense of humor of some Supreme Being/Higher Power. (Christians, do not flood my inbox with heartfelt yet useless platitudes. I understand your faith, studied, got the t-shirt; I am not there and you can't force me. Yet. Of course, if the GOP has its way, I am sure that will change.) So what happens here, stays here and it's not a big deal. Am I certain where these thoughts have come from? Not really. It's either sanity or soul-crushing depression.
Right now I can go either way.
Yesterday I attended a fairly good Al-Anon 12 Step Workshop. It is the second time I have attended such a workshop and the 4th time I have worked the 12 Steps. Then I came home, took about an hour before I got warm again, and then fell asleep reading and slept ELEVEN hours. Usually I can only pull this off when I am severely depressed. And while I know I am going to have to drag my carcass forth to go to work 12-18 hours a day, I really don't have the will or strength to do much of anything else.
Of course, sleeping 11 hours (or more than 6) has the lovely effect upon me of kicking in another migraine, so today I will go forth to do a week's worth of housecleaning, laundry, cooking, and scrubbing. When all I want to do is lie in bed and read. And maybe watch Doc Martin.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
2012 - Resolving not to make resolutions
I decided to do what I can in 2012.
No swearing to accomplish heroic feats.
No deciding to fill up another plate of self-loathing in the process of trying to shrink my body into someone else's idea of acceptable.
No more trying to be superwoman.
No more killing myself to support a household where everyone has demands but no one is willing to shoulder the burdens.
I am going to change the things I can. And let the impossible sit it out.
What is not impossible is this:
Write more. Such as type a few lines on the blog once a week.
Eat something healthy instead of shit. I am stretching every dime to buy food as it is, so I might as well as buy something less horrible.
Read more. So many books, so little time.
Breathe. Get back on the cushion.
And finally, the hardest thing of all:
Forgive myself. Stop hating myself for being ugly, fat, slow, stupid, and a self-sacrificing doormat that has achieved not one of my dreams but most of the duties and descriptions thrust upon me by others.
Forgive myself for all the above, and make the last years I have be extraordinary for having one less person hate me: Me.
I'm hoping this is not impossible.
No swearing to accomplish heroic feats.
No deciding to fill up another plate of self-loathing in the process of trying to shrink my body into someone else's idea of acceptable.
No more trying to be superwoman.
No more killing myself to support a household where everyone has demands but no one is willing to shoulder the burdens.
I am going to change the things I can. And let the impossible sit it out.
What is not impossible is this:
Write more. Such as type a few lines on the blog once a week.
Eat something healthy instead of shit. I am stretching every dime to buy food as it is, so I might as well as buy something less horrible.
Read more. So many books, so little time.
Breathe. Get back on the cushion.
And finally, the hardest thing of all:
Forgive myself. Stop hating myself for being ugly, fat, slow, stupid, and a self-sacrificing doormat that has achieved not one of my dreams but most of the duties and descriptions thrust upon me by others.
Forgive myself for all the above, and make the last years I have be extraordinary for having one less person hate me: Me.
I'm hoping this is not impossible.
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