Tag: writing

Distraction

I am struggling and instead of doing something to alleviate it, (writing in my journal, looking for work, exercising, praying) I’m reading excerpts from my writing and crawling into a word outside of what is going on in the world right now. I love fiction because it allows me to write the world the way I want it to be. A world where we protect our children from predators and themselves. For example, a parents who see a suicide note and yells at her daughter instead of getting her help. Yes, that happened. Though, at the time, I didn’t think of it as suicide. I wanted to just disappear. At 11, a very sheltered 11 to boot, I didn’t know really what suicide was. I didn’t know anything useful about protecting myself from myself any better than I knew how to take care of myself then or now. I typed on the typewriter I just wanted to leave, I didn’t want to be there any more. My plan, thin as it was, was to hike up into the foothills behind the stable where we boarded our horse. The one time I was allowed to take the beast into the foothills I found a decrepit shack, no bigger than a normal shed today and it represented a life completely cut off from people, from the confusion and ignorance I lived in. It also cut me off from water and food and any form of real protection from cold and rain. I recognize it now for what it is, a form of passive suicidality.

It pisses me off all over again that my mother who knew, who read the note for what it really was, never did anything. Who I felt I had to hide my first go-round when I attempted suicide and subsequent antidepressants because I couldn’t let her know or talk about it because she wasn’t safe. A doctor put her on Decadron for a pseudo brain tumor to reduce the swelling in her brain and that somehow sparked some sort of mental break which required anti-depressants and after she became RFK level anti-anti-depressant spokesperson. (She revealed in ‘couples therapy’ with my sister she was faking it so we wouldn’t move to the Virgin Islands for a job opportunity for my father…..Yes, that happened.)

The most useless distraction is wondering how my life would be different if she had done something other than yell at me for scaring her. If she had gotten me therapy or took me to the bishop, or just ANYTHING. Would I be constantly second-guessing myself now? Would I be struggling with depression and anxiety? Would I be able to take care of myself like a valued human being instead of just doing the needful? Would I still be in pain every morning wondering if I should just stay in bed and forget the fight, surrender and die? I have really, really been hating her all over again. This is something that has recently bubbled up from the emotional archives and has rekindled the hate and anger and self-recrimination for not protecting myself better. (way to really add to the emotional maelstrom.)

Let me be clear, I am not suicidal. Disturbing Thoughts is the closest I’ve come since I’ve started this journey to be that close to causing myself harm. When the disturbing thoughts disturb me I correct them and remind myself I have faith (not always hope), and that everything will be okay. I know it will because I’ve seen it happen. I have a very loving family, I have friends around the US, and I have a bird no one wants so I can’t go anywhere. Some days I just need to allow myself distractions to get me through. I need ignore the feeling of being at the bottom of a hill and having to push my whole life up it again to see the future.

If the abuse/neglect I received in childhood did this to me, my heart aches for the survivors who suffered at the hands of the pedophiles and rapists on and off that Island. Every man who takes privilege and forces it on children should be publicly humiliated, excoriated with acid and castrated. NO ONE has the right to do that to a child. Period. Not a parent. Not a politician. Not a billionaire. Anyone who protects, supports or defends these men are JUST AS GUILTY. Period. PROTECT THE CHILDREN not privilege,

I Protest

Last Saturday, January 31, I actually left my room, stood on a corner, held a sign, and protested. I didn’t get shot, I didn’t get arrested and nothing more than people flipping me off happened. My response to those disapproving souls was to blow them a kiss.

My sign read –

Stop the devils servants. Justice for Good and Pretti!

A little more religious than I would like, but if men can murder innocent people and either curse their victim or run away, what else can you call them.? The happy part was there were more honks than fingers and more than 175 people crowded on the corner in front of a business profiting handsomely from the current administrations shinanigans.

I won’t deny I was afraid. Even though we don’t have ICE en masse in our city, but like I said in Right of Way I live in a community with a large immigrant population. What has been interesting since the protest, and the subsequent meeting after to learning about our software ‘EveryAction’, I am not crocheting like a woman on a mission. I’m still crocheting, but there isn’t this “Dear God, make it stop!” kind of screaming in my head when I do it. Doing something about it, protesting and volunteering, has staunched the bleeding from that particular open wound. I am still trying to figure out work in this economy as an older person and I’m scheduled for eye surgery next month all the while watching the totals on my credit cards mount exponentially. As trivial as ‘not manically crocheting’ sounds, it’s a blessed start.

In the back of my head I still hear the evil pixy telling me my miniscule action don’t really mean anything. My boycotting stores, my protesting in a mostly red community, my help with the membership team for TRAC Indivisible…all of it. I am insignificant, I’m useless, and nothing more than a floating dust mote in the political arena. I ignore the little malicious sprite and remember: The Right likes to compare my political personality to a snowflake. A snowflake is a delicate ice crystal that will melt if it’s not cold enough or if it comes into contact with any kind of warmth to be absorbed and forgotten into the earth. However, when snowflakes stick together they can have the force of an avalanche whose influence will for miles.

Right of Way

Learning is the best way to alleviate a lot of fear and dissipate procrastination, It’s just that simple.

I attended a meeting and call to action meeting last night. I was worried about filming at protests and obvious human rights violations. It addressed what my first amendment rights are and what they’re not. I can film any police action I want as long as I’m following all directions from the ICE Agents and police. I cannot do it on private property unless given express permission by the owner. I cannot post without the victim’s/victim’s family/victim’s lawyers permission. I totally agree with that. No one wants to watch a news program and see their loved one beaten by four or five jack-booted, fully armed men and then shot for wanting to help another victim of the terror squad. II know I wouln’t.

This hasn’t really alleviated all the fear of getting shot. I realize that is the purpose of the ICE Agents shooting random people, to intimidate the citizenry that obedience is security. If I learned anything from taking care of a raging narcissist is that no matter what you do, it’s NEVER GOOD ENOUGH. All the money in the world won’t be good enough. Every citizen on their knees when the powers that be enter a room won’t be good enough. Defiling every 16 year old virgin won’t be good enough. Me, as a citizen, will never be good enough. So, at some point you just have to say F*** IT. i am good enough and stand your ground.

I’m mot in Minnesota so the chances of me being shot are minimal. I do live in a farming community and interact with a lot of foreign people. I don’t know their status, I don’t ask. I don’t care. They are human, they aren’t criminals (as defined by the rhetoric of the powers that be), and they deserve respect. The same respect we demand as Americans when we enter their country. I keep asking myself “If the time comes, will I stand with them or let the wave of weaponized government sanctioned hate sweep them away. I want to believe, despite the anxiety and fear, that I will stand with and for them.

All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent.

Thomas Jefferson

SURJ’ing Forward & on TRAC

These postcards represent my very first action in resisting. All four were sent to my senator, basically asking him if he would like his due process, freedom of speech and so on denied him. My point here is that I did it. It’s not holing a sign singing, chanting and marching, but I did it.

I’m a good talker about what’s wrong with the government (no matter who is in the oval office) but I’ve always believed when you deny any right to any person you are opening the door for those rights to be denied you. Benjamin Franklin, I believe, said:

Any man who gives up his freedom for security deserves neither freedom no security.

I love my freedoms, and I’m not going to let them go easily, I am going slow because I don’t want to terrify myself under the bed. So, I’ve been to two national call to action meetings (another one tonight) to unite against the tyranny and brutality in Minnesota. There is a national call to action to stand up against the companies in our neighborhood which are supporting ICE while they occupy any area….Target, Home Depot, and Hilton. Tomorrow, if you can, please don’t shop at them or if you’re traveling try not to stay in a Hilton property.

My new years resolutions requires me to see how far I can take each aspect of the two organizations I’ve adopted. TRAC Indivisible (Tracy Residents Action Coalition) which is within the Indivisible grass-roots organization. SURJ is Standing Up for Racial Justice, specifically White People Standing Up for Racial Justice. Theirs is the call to action for tomorrow. Within these two groups I need to do certain things like doing the postcards (done), going to a protest, doing call-banking, and actually going door to door to get my neighbors involved. I’ve done all of those things for jobs or charity work but I had something to hide behind. This is standing up for what I know is right and asking people to join me.

The goal for getting involved? Mostly to re-enter the world. It’s so easy to stay in my room, crocheting obsessively and repeating the mantra ‘everything will be okay in the end’. The end being when I’m dead and the worries of the world won’t trouble me any longer. I’ve also tasked myself to join a writing group and to join the church choir and see if loud makes up for talent.

In all honesty, I’m scared. I don’t want to be shot, I don’t want to be hurt and I don’t want to bring down any of that hell on my family. But, for me, it’s gotten to the point where doing nothing is no longer an option. So, here I am on the bleeding edge of action and I’m trying really, really hard to leave my room and jump.

Coping Strategy For The Nonce

The world, not just our nation, is in chaos. Wars, incursions, kidnapping, school shootings and women and mothers are being destroyed by the dozens. Some in places where their safety has been guaranteed by a democratic constitution. As a woman who is known to be mouthy, that kind of frightens me…..A LOT! I try not to think beyond prayers to the families because that path leads to panic and sleepless nights.

Unemployment gives me time to think. Its helpful to untangle the plot knots I often find myself ensnarled in, but not so good for the anxiety which makes it impossible to concentrate. Writing gives me escape from my stress and anxiety, crocheting provides an outlet and a filler for times when I’m trying to ruminate on my problems. It also fills a need for me to help out in the world without totally getting involved….by that I mean leaving my bedroom and bird and actually putting actions to my beliefs. Crochet isn’t going to be enough while this country spirals through the machinations of a greedy and slowly dissolving mind.

So, what to do….

A friend at church has started TRAC Indivisible which sent me to a site http://www.mobilize.us. It’s a platform dedicated to help us to, well, mobilize and realize we aren’t alone in this struggle to restore the America like-minded patriots believe in. After signing up for TRAC Indivisible mobilize.us directed me to SURJ (Showing Up for Racial Justice) group. I’ve attended one Zoom meeting which covered the wins and goals for the nationwide group. The first meeting for TRAC Indivisible is IRL this Saturday and I can see what I can physically do. Talking about it isn’t enough any more, it only adds to the angry and terrifying spinning in my head. I’m hoping by doing something tangible, like the crochet does for the anxiety in my immediate sphere of influence, I will surmount my fear and anxiety over the local, national and global terror playing out on all news outlets every freaking day.

If the current state of the union is tweaking your anxiety and you think doing something will help, please check out SURJ at http:mobilize.us. You will need to certify yourself, that you’re not a bot or whatever. If you are in my area, Tracy and San Juaquin County, you can sign up for TRAC Indivisible.

I’m afraid I will fail. My CBT rebuttal to that unkind thought is: Failing means I tried. Failing means I was moving forward. Not all paths are marked, not all roads are paved and sometimes you have to stick your toe in hot water before you realize it’s perfect for a long soak.

Reality Schism

I’ll admit it, I’ve been struggling. I’ve been fighting the good fight for weeks but today the void is sucking me back in. Yesterday I realized I was doing it to myself and I need to stop…..but I’m having too much fun!!

I’ve been free writing again. I’m blissfully living in the space between my ears. I broke one book I wrote (Heart of My Mothers) into a trilogy. The original was too dense because I wanted my character to grow and experience life adjacent to the plot. My readers liked the story but it was suggested I break it up into three books so I could bring in more detail.

  • Book 1 Andi (Mother): Is ready to be sent to an agent or publisher, I just have to create the query letter and do it. It terrifies me I’ll do it wrong. Wrong means I fail…..again,*
  • Book 2 Veronica (Grandmother) : Is written and needs editing….like Edward Scissorhands level of editing, which magnifies my skewed reality I can’t write perfectly the first time around.*
  • Book 3 Claire (Great Grandmother): Free writing where even the original book isn’t a reference and anything can happen. I’M LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT.

The problem? I still have to live in reality. I still have to drag myself out of bed every day and face the world. I still have to take my medication. I still have to apply for jobs. I still have to go on interviews. I still have to remind myself death isn’t a solution.

This morning, by the time I convinced myself to get up (It took an hour today), take my meds and feed my bird I was crying. My reality is just really hard right now. I’m looking for glimmers, I’m walking more than I have to (goal is three times a week) and I still feel like I’m failing. Failing crushes me.*

My character isn’t failing. She fabulously wealthy, she’s popular and she’s the hero in her own story. I’m poor, few people know my name and I’m trying hard not to be the villain. Is there any doubt why I want to live there?

So, right now I’m straddling these two worlds. The endorphin rush from creation strips the serotonin on my brain. Low serotonin makes me want to escape into the story. I don’t know how to heal the schism without tearing me in two.

So I bought yarn.

Any suggestions?

* I know this is wrong thinking. I feel like Sisyphus constantly pushing the right thinking up an impossible hill only to get flattened when the rock rolls over me.

Peanut Butter Withdrawal

To say I like peanut butter is an understatement. I LOVE peanut butter. For the last several months I have been pretty much living on the spread. I buy it at Costco in the double 40 oz jars and can lick the plastic clean in two weeks. I don’t think it’s just the peanut butter, but the honey I squeeze into it and mix in before hand. Yum!

I had deluded myself into thinking peanut butter is a healthy food. It’s high in protein and that is my only requirement for my diet right now. It’s easy. I just have to take the lid off and grab a spoon, no cooking, no prep, just eat. And, if a little is good for you, a lot has to be sooooo much better, right? Hence the killing of 40oz jars in record time.

There are some health benefits to eating peanut butter, including reducing heart disease, weight loss and satiation. And believe me, you are satiated when you eat four or five recommended serving sizes. With honey.

Peanut butter has been a staple in my life since I was in grade school. We rarely had jelly, jam or apple butter but we did have a dense wheat bread and peanut butter for lunches. I would put it on so thick it would get stuck in my throat and I’d have to run to the water fountain to push it all the way down my throat. We never had the money to buy milk at school, and knowing this I’d still slather the bread with an unhealthy serving.

I don’t know if it’s the taste, the texture, the childhood connection or just that it’s fast and easy but I do love me some peanut butter. Until I realized I was going through 40 oz of it in 7-10 days….not to mention a hive full of honey as well. Even when I was doing it I knew it was a reaction to the stress of the holidays, unemployment, no money, terror of the political climate being unemployed, coupled with depression and anxiety and, well, life. But I knew it had to go.

I went cold turkey on the peanut butter. I still smell it and it sets my mind wandering the empty shelves looking for it, but I refuse to be addicted to it. I have tendencies towards binge eating, which is what I was doing with my delulu attachment to the peanut butter. My compromise for binging currently is I can have anything I want out of the house, I just can’t bring it home because I eat it…..ALL OF IT….in one sitting. So if I want ice cream I go out and get it but not have a stock pile of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer. However, it’s hard to go out and have a small jar of peanut butter, so it’ll be gone from my life until a time when I can be reasonable about my portions and contain my emotional need between two pieces of bread.

What do you use to satiate your emotional hunger?

Update

I found out peanut butter is good for depression.  Junk food science?  Maybe.  I’ve switched from regular Skippy to Natural Skippy and I don’t buy it from Costco, so I don’t have as much on hand but it is nice to have it back. 

Crossing the Line

Sorry, I’ve been distant, silent even.  Mostly because I did something wonderful and it confused me.  Let me explain…..

I went on vacation with my family, it was a wedding onboard a cruise ship and we were invited to join the happy couple for the honeymoon.  We all had our own rooms of course.  I brought a long two books; one pleasure and one enlightening.  I chose the Enlightening book first.  Before the end of the first day at sea I grabbed my book and went up to the top deck, sunglass/reading glasses in hand and a hat and read.   Within the first ten pages I came across a statement (that I can’t quote because it’s not exactly what I read but what I needed to hear) to the effect of:

There comes a time when introspection becomes indulgent.

It struck me so perfectly at that moment and I realized, every aspect of me said it was time to move on and move forward.  There was nothing more I could do with the deep dives into who, what, and why that makes me who, what, and why I’ve become.  I needed to put myself out there and try to put into place what I have learned, to build on the foundation that I have laid and hopefully not have any dead bodies hidden in the cement.  At many points in life we need to stop and do the self evaluation/inventory/mind-tripping that helps us move to the next level, but I feel like I’m all caught up now….

Crossing that line, the invisible line between the two worlds instigated a miraculous change in my psyche: I’m happy, I’m hope-filled, I have more energy, I am making plans for my future and are anxiously waiting to put that plan into motion.  (Mom is still doing well, so things are still as they were).  Crossing that line also gave me the push I needed to start  whittling down my meds.  I’m off one of my anxiety pills completely, I’ve cut my Lexapro in half, I’m still taking all my puppy uppers (Welbutrin).

I don’t know if I’m ready to go down another 10mg on my Lexapro.  This last jump down brought up the realization that I don’t really have the skills that I thought I had when  I was fully medicated, and emotions are starting to break through the chemical barricades.  I’m getting caught in the angry loops, but I have more success of talking myself out of them before I spin out of control.  I get overwhelmed and stymied easily , but if I just plug away at it, it gets done.  I’ve had to put some exercises into place so I could deal with the mental stuff, one of those is writing every day.  Which brings me back to the confusion….

For the longest time I used this blog as an integral part of my self exploration.  Anything too private was taken care of in my journal, and I’m back to journaling now too, but if continual introspection is self indulgent, it’s not something I should be engaging in if I want to move forward in my life.  And I’ve made some major strides in my life from March to now, but I didn’t know if I should start a new blog post-depression to write all the plans and the executions with both successes and failures or if I should just continue here; or should I do it at all?  I miss it, so I need to keep doing it .  I found that blogging my personal truths out into the world is an act of courage and bravery that makes me feel more courageous and brave in the real world. I think it’s not self indulgent if it isn’t wallowing in the dark but instead sharing the joy and excitement of rediscovering my life now that I’m outside the void.

Any input from my readers would be helpful.  Please,

Climbing Down The Walls

So, I am unemployed, or underemployed.  I still have the granny nanny job, but the relaxing job of 8 hours a day five days a week, along with the paycheck, is gone.  Monday I needed two doggy downers to get me off the walls, but it completely wiped me out for Tuesday and then another attempt at the wall yesterday, but I talked myself out of it and avoided the chill pills.  I sat down and made a list of everything I need to do to, both large and small, and having it all in one spot keeps me away from the walls.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I just love ticking things off a to do list gives me a deep down, tickle of a thrill.

The list is a two fold tool.  First, it puts everything that I need to do, everything I need to think about, everything that I need to buy in one place.  I need to put them in line with priorities, and I’ll put that on the list to do.  Second, it gives me a sense of accomplishment when I cross something off, but not enough to celebrate and blow off the rest of my to-dos.  The most important things that I need to do is get the credits for my CEC ‘classes’, study, pass the test and then start looking for a job in medical.  The other is to bolster my meager income and finish the chapter for House of Dragons.*

What is surprising me is that I am still getting up relatively early, I’m getting a good nights sleep, though some nights I stay up as late as 11:00pm (scandalous, I know) but I’m feeling the need to stick to my work schedule.  I don’t want to sleep the day away.  That said, that doesn’t exactly mean that I want to take the world be storm either.  I’m not hiding in TV, but I’m not as productive as I could be…..but then again, it’s only been four days…..I should probably just get to know myself without having some place to go in the morning.

* Soul Searching: House of Dragons is the first installment (hopefully) in my stories of missionaries all over the world.   This is about a cadre of companionships in Vietnam trying to return a lost Vet home and the general struggles that go along with being in the Lords service.

Prayer: The Hearts Sincere Desire

I’ve been praying again, at least making an honest effort.  I still forget that I’m praying sometimes and let my mind wander but I pull it back as quickly as I can, apologize to my Father in Heaven and push forward.  It seems odd that prayer is so hard for me.  That it was nothing before but “Please, Father, get me through today.” (And He did) But because of my meager efforts I’m no longer extremely anxious about taking the forward steps I need to into the haze of uncertainty because I know He will prepare a path for me even if all I can see it one step at a time.

It’s so hard to describe the sensation of this for me.  I’ve always known there was a higher power (mine is God/Heavenly Father/Elohim) for as long as I can remember.  At one point I wanted to be cloistered away as a nun;  a life of service and reflection apparently appeals to the writers heart.  However, I chose the secular world and now my realities are 1) my job is ending 2) my education to be a phlebotomist is a joke in the industry 3) I’ve not stuck anyone in years and 4)it’s going to pay less (especially a non-union job) than the pittance I’m making now. (I’m not even going to go into the lack of writing, lack of journaling and lack of any creativity in my life right now).  My mind races and then collapses from exhaustion.  I think R.E.M. said it best:

It’s the end of the world as we know it

And I feel fine

I’ve never been able to really make plans for my future because I’ve always had the concept hard wired into my mind “Live now for tomorrow we die”.  So now, I pray about it, when the anxiety, fear and general loathing of change overtakes me and then a calm comes and the gentle words of peace and comfort scatter the emotions like cockroaches in the light and I feel fine.

Though I’m still anxious about a lot of things:

  • Mom’s ultimate destination and getting her ready, getting me ready, fear of walking in on her and finding her when I’m alone
  • Money lasting to the end of the month and not being able to buy stuff with my own money
  • Getting money together for my nephews wedding (This is new one, he’s going on a cruise and we’re all invited)
  • Job ending
  • Job searching
  • Being trapped forever with Mom
  • Never getting my eating under control and never being able to eat Golden Mega Stuff Oreos again
  • Dying before I have a chance to live
  • Being around people
  • Dealing with my family and the anger it stirs up in me and the fear of not being able to control it around them

That’s just off the top of my head, the things that I can pick out when it’s spinning.  Though I know everything in my heart will be okay, the chemicals in my brain still won’t settle down and leave me in peace.  I’m hoping to replace my emergency anti-anxiety pills and the half one I take every day, with meditation and prayer.  It is my sincerest desire to be trusting and rest in the Lords embrace and know everything will be okay.  Though my heart is starting to trust my head is still overly paranoid and distrusting of everyone and everything, both physical and spiritual.  It’s not the end of the world, just a change, and I will be fine.  Prayer needs to be my bridge from this life to the next, I can feel that in my heart to be true and I need to be more persistent in following the whispers of hope and orient myself to the feeling of warmth and comfort the Spirit provides when I follow my heart.