Tag Archives: depression

Angst

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For the last week my mind and spirit have been hijacked by the powerful entity of fear, uncertainty, and anxiety.  It invaded my brain, and then quickly took over what seemed to be my soul, leaving me reaching out to anything that I could hold onto.

I’m not shy to talk about my mental illlness, I do so in hopes of helping another, because when all is said and done, I know I’m not alone here.   But I am always leery about sharing too much, because people do treat you differently.   It’s a hard fact.   The talons of mental illness are sometimes ignored, and certainly mistreated, some due to ignorance, and others?  Fear!

The grip this trip was treacherous.  And I didn’t help myself by reaching out to another until last night when others reached out to me.  Oh how potent a secret battle that carries its venom best when we are in isolation from the world.     

My anxiety and fears are very real.  And I haven’t experienced this intensity of anxiety in years.  I will admit tonight, I should have been in a hospital, getting help, but after how many years in therapy, what else is there to say?   I recall a House, MD episode where he walks out of his therapy session and says “You don’t have any answers”.

What amazes me this evening, as I sit here writing this blog, is where my mind was just mere hours ago.  Nothing has changed in my setting, nothing has changed in my reality, except that I did, with the help of many cherished prayers and encouragement from friends, face my fears today.  Tonight I am exhausted, worn like an old penny, and while my anxiety is there, I’m practicing letting it be, letting the anxiety reveal itself, and trying everything I know not to feed it or let it overpower me again.   Feeding it got me into a full fledge panic attack earlier, where I was grasping for breath, sweat pouring off me, and had to sit with my head in my hands for several minutes because I was borderline passing out.  Yes, that awful place I’ve known a few times before.  If you’ve never encountered such, I am both happy and envious of you.

My ditzy little old cat has stayed by my side for days.  Mommy wasn’t healthy, and her steadiness and loyalty clings to my heart.

I really don’t care to share anymore tonight.   As I said earlier, I’m spent, and I’m hoping that with meds I will be gifted with a good nights sleep.  Rest assured I will be on my knees tonight praying that I do not wake up like I have the past couple mornings.   But in case I do, I need a plan.  So I’m working on a little “cheat sheet” note to myself for morning.  And this blog serves as a reminder to my saner, calmer self and conscience.

Earlier I sat down, with John Denver ( my roots) playing in the background, and started painting a small daisy.  Something cheery, something positive before I retire.  Revisiting “Let it Be” was what I needed.  I closed my eyes and let the music take me where I needed to go.  To the many dark places I’ve survived in my life, and that this?  This I’m determined will not have extended stay.  I cannot afford it, physically, mentally, spiritually.

I welcome your prayers, positive energy over the next few weeks as I find my way through this “episode” for lack of a better word.

My greatest wish for myself, and for all, for that matter,  in not wealth, but peace.  I welcome it’s return, and will strive to achieve it and then hold onto it.    Peace.

Peace to you, too.

 

 

 

Mental slag

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Today has proven to be a challenging day for me.  The first thing I did besides feed the lippy cat that was ready to eat two hours prior, was go out and shovel out my car.  I must say, someone was looking out for me when it drove right out of it’s spot, unlike the last time where I was stuck.  But stubborn brunettes don’t give up!   We had a shitload of snow fall yesterday.

What was challenging for me today was my head, where it goes.   I once heard from a psychiatrist that the more intelligent you are, the more remote places you can find to hide in.   Not saying I’m the smartest person in the world, not even close, but I have at times thought, if I wasn’t so smart, I would be happier.   Sit on that one for a moment!

I cannot share my thoughts here, I cannot share them with anyone.    I’m doing what I know to do, and that is to get moving, get busy, keep trucking.  It took me hours of stuck to get there.  I guess I should celebrate in getting there.

I’m heading to bed early tonight, taking a friend to a much needed doctor’s appointment up North.  I’m hoping the roads and snow removal are in good shape.  I get to drive the cutest car in the world because mine doesn’t have heat.   (Kia little boxy car, I just love it!) Ya just can’t expect an 81 year old to ride that far without heat!

I walked around my house today foreign to myself.   Not exactly foreign, but certainly not where I wanted to be.   I know depression and anxiety intimately.  But where it takes me, those are places that it’s hard to find comfort in.  I remember hearing at a recovery group a couple decades ago “Find comfort in the uncomfortable”.   One of life’s tricks to success, or certainly to get beyond, or overcome.

I did some sketches today on a piece I want to start soon.   But as I walked into my studio this evening, sat down to work on ears of the pet portrait I’m doing, I see many 85%-90% paintings started, but not completed.  That isn’t a sin, but it’s something I have to be vigilant of.  Signs?  Silliness?

Well, have things I have to do before bed.  I’m hoping I sleep.  Last night I did not.  Not well, anyway.

Hoping your having a great day, full of insight and direction!   It’s what I’m seeking at the moment.

 

 

Reviewing processes

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The past few weeks I’ve been reflecting and dissecting what I would like to do with the rest of my life.  What do I like?  What don’t I like?  What are my dreams?  Are they feasible?  What are my needs?   I’ve also been writing up a business plan for myself, which in itself has been a very interesting journey.  I’ve changed it three times.

I’ve also participated for two days (another four to go) in an art challenge to post pics of my art on my facebook page for six days.  This, too, has been an interesting process.   I’m reviewing photos that I have, which aren’t exactly organized like someone dominantly left brained would do, but I’m only 25% there, so I’m giving myself a break!

4-5 years ago my life came to a crashing halt.  I couldn’t get out of bed, I didn’t want to paint, write, and was incapable of making any decisions for myself.   Fortunately my strong mother jumped in and helped, and after hospitalization for two weeks, I was diagnosed with Major Clinical Depression.  This was not the first time, but the fourth.  I must say to you, it’s been hell trying to come back from it.

Why do I mention such a personal thing?  Because I’m an idiot!   🙂   Most people do not confess such, because of the stigma attached to mental illness.  I want others to know who are suffering with such, it’s okay, you’re not a freak, you aren’t crazy, you are sick, and encourage you to get help.  For me it meant some serious psychological drugs, many therapy sessions, a lot of writing, a lot more of praying.  It is still a monkey on my back, but I am learning, everyday to replace the negative talk in my head.  Some days I’m successful with this, some days not.

Back to the art challenge, as I’m surfing through pages of photos of my artwork, which also have pics of other aspects of my life, love, marriage, breast cancer, family, friends, pets, artwork, gardens, etc… I must say, I feel good about things that I have accomplished in my life.  In spite of the crap that came rolling into it, I’m still standing, and there are days, still, too many, that it’s very hard for me to get out of bed and face the day.   But it was nice to see things I’ve done, the magazines my artwork and needlecraft designs were in, interviews with me as a visual artist, and a fiber artist.  I even had artwork on the cover of magazines I think twice.  How quickly these accomplishments fall by the way side when you’re looking at it through the dark eyes of depression.

So, I’m feeling a bit chipper tonight, painted a little bit today.  Plan to spend a few hours tomorrow doing the same.   We are supposedly having an arctic cold blast this weekend.  I’ve stocked up on the necessities, my mom is here visiting for the weekend.  If I don’t kill her, by the time Monday comes around I should be in good shape! 🙂

The message today is… Hang on.   Hang strong.   Celebrate the good days, and do all you can to survive the bad.   It may be worth your while to dive into some pictures yourself.

Sending you peace and love

 

 

 

Creative zoning

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It’s the wee hours of morning.  Many of my friends are just rising.  This is my favorite time of day.  I guess because it’s very quiet, I’m seldom if ever interrupted by the phone, and my creativity screams from 10pm-4am.   So many have expressed their concerns, that I’m isolating, which may be true, but truly, this is a peaceful time for me.

The cat is asleep, I hear her little snore in between the lulls of music.  My studio is in the usual disarray that happens with winds of creativity.  I’ve got two stacks of messy bun hats that are holding up the rooster and turtle paintings, and my large painting table is covered, every inch.  It’s awesome.  When I go into the kitchen to fill my glass with drink, I look at the pile of dishes and smile.   It will end.  Eventually this streak will come to close, or slow anyway, and the dishes will eventually get done!

So many of my friends are struggling, or have been with health issues.   I offer prayers for them whenever I think of them, or see their posts.  I slept and rested today, watching some old television programs on Netflix.  But at 10pm, my mind was thinking of color, texture, and ways to paint certain pieces, effects.

Earlier today when I fell asleep on the couch, I had a dream that recurs.  It’s a painful dream, and I always wake up feeling breathless, and sad.  So I did what I have learned to do, and that is, not run from it, but honor it, and not dissect every bit of it, but lightly think about why now?  Sometimes the answer comes, sometimes it doesn’t.  I’m grateful this dream is not nearly as frequent as it used to be.  And I’ve come to accept I’ll probably have it for life, unless somehow I find resolution.  But there is no resolution.  The best way I knew how to shake it off was with a brush in hand.

I must admit when I rose today I wasn’t thrilled to see it snowing.  As I walk in my yard it’s hard to believe that I will ever see ground again, but I will.   And in Spring when new life grows, and I see the beginning of plants and perennials that survived the winter, I forget all about the tons of white shit that right now fill my yard and block off about 1/3 of my normal driveway.

So, this is where my thoughts are.   On painting, on new beginnings, and sadly, some endings.   It is what it is.

I’m seriously considering taking some classes, art related, maybe even a writing class to get me seriously actively pursuing a lifelong dream.

Plans to stay up all day today, and try to curve myself back into the schedule of the majority of the world.   We shall see how that goes.

Peace to you,

 

Resistence

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I remember a couple of years ago I saw a famous self improvement guru talking on resistance.   His basic message was, the more you resist something, the more important it is that you fight the resistance and DO whatever it is that has created this unsettling, displaced feeling.  Well, I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching, making some choices, which I am recognizing, for me, it’s harder to have choices than to just trudge along the beaten road you “think” you’re destined to.

I also struggle with commitment, certainly when it comes to relationships, hence why I’ve been single for over a decade.   If I stay away from intimate relationships, I’m safe!  But we all know the truth in that, don’t we?  Love is one of the most beautiful things we are blessed with.  Committing to someone you love, and they you, is pretty special BUT NOT EASY stuff!

So I have been slowly, actively studying my likes, my dislikes, my desires, needs, and am sitting on an opportunity to make major changes in my life.   I believe this.   So as exciting as it can be, it is also frightening to me.   And believe me, when you struggle with anxiety and all that wonderful stuff, it’s VERY REAL to the person going through it.  It can become VERY REAL to those who are close to them, because, well, I call them “demons”.   The demons are real to me.

I have been focusing on that guru’s message, because one thing that I am considering changing is something that in past I HAVE LOVED.   Trying to come out of a severe clinical depression (I wish that were the case for all.  I wish we could just come out of it, and leave it behind, shed it like a snake does skin, but it doesn’t work that way, does it?)  In the hardest times of this I lost a couple friends, and while it hurt, I realize, they haven’t a clue what I live with day in, day out.   The sometimes constant need to correct the thoughts that automatically spew from my brain, it can be exhausting.  But I’m doing it.  And I’m doing as well as I think I can.  Not without some unhealthy coping skills.

Anyway, I want to go back to this resistance I’m feeling about this one thing I’ve had in my life, 1/3 of my life, and have enjoyed, loved.  It would be very easy for me to say “I don’t want to do this anymore”, and chalk the negative feelings I’m having onto that, but I know myself, and I know deep down, it’s not that simple.  I am resisting it because it’s important, albeit, very important to me.

So I’ve been doing the usual things that I know to do, mostly prayer, meditation, seeking help with an answer.  Tonight an unexpected message actually helped me see how much I am truly pushing this away.   If I am being true to myself, and 4-5 years ago I committed to being true to myself, first, then I need to either dissect my reasoning, or even harder, jump in, get my feet wet, and defeat these restricting feelings, fears.

So I decided to write about it, to put it “out there” for myself to look at.  I do this with my artwork too.  I will take a picture and study it on my computer or telephone screen.  This way I am detached from it, and can see where my painting needs honing, correcting.   Whatever works, right?

So, how about you?  Is there something you are resisting?  Something that is important to you but your inner demons have got a grip on your decision making?

 

Music, painting, and life!

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I’m listening to “Into the Mystic” (Van Morrison).   Love this song, and am reminded of many moons ago bombing around town in the jeep with all the doors off, and my dog happily in the back seat eye balling everyone and everything.   This music reaches into my soul and says “Life is good, maybe not perfect, but I am alive, and that’s better than the alternative”…. but many religious people would beg to differ.   Is it?

Music is such an important part of my life.   When I get pounded down by life’s hardships, when I’m at my lowest, I can always go back and think of the last time I listened to music….   It’s related.   Music is one of the best remedies for my mental illness woes.

I’m painting.  Not well, but I’m painting.    I’ve been struggling lately (forever a head case) but as soon as I sit down, music blaring in background, and pick up a brush, I am settled, centered, peaceful.  I am VERY VERY grateful for this.   I try to turn off the inner critic that lives LARGE in my head, sometimes I’m successful, sometimes not.  It’s nice to have an escape.   It feels good.  Now if I could only figure out how to masking tape SHUT the inner critics mouth!

Autumn is fast approaching.   We have almost no color, but I guess it’s early yet.  The air is changing, and the geese are flying South.  This is my favorite time of year.  New England in the Fall is picturesque.   I love to bomb on back roads during foliage, as it looks like you’re driving into a kaleidoscope.   It really does!  No, I’m not on shrooms.   Not for a long while, smirks.

My girlfriend was visiting from Omaha for a few days.  It’s really nice to see her, and always good to talk.   It’s also really nice to have the company.  Dropped her off at the airport today and on the way home stopped in Michael’s to pick up canvas.  3 for the price of one!   Woohooo!

Hope you’re enjoying good health, moods and making room and time for some passion!

Sensitivity, mental illness AND being right brained

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I read a LOT of self help books.     My mother said to me one day last year “I think it’s great that you want to improve upon yourself, but Donna, what about fun?    Well, I read art books, that counts for fun.  And I read articles online, a lot about cancer, guess that isn’t too fun…    But this comment of hers “came back” in my head this past week.

Thinking about sensitivity.   I have always been very sensitive.   Cry easily (ask my siblings, growing up with me, my parents didn’t know what to do with me and my emotions, so to eliminate stress for all, they would omit sharing things with me!   Now, this works, to an extent, but not all that great after that.   I found myself in my 30s and 40s before I started to really learn how to sit with stuff, how to deal with things that otherwise “hurt”.    Hey, they did their best, no blame there, just thinking about what it would be like to NOT be so sensitive?

I remember sitting in a 12 step meeting, an addict was struggling.  He shared how his newly found sobriety was good, but it was also overwhelming.  He realized booze helped numb him from his “oversensitivity” (also labeled that as a child).    He was an artist, and part of who he was was this beautiful sensitive soul, and he didn’t want to lose that.  But he was going bat shit trying to figure out how to cope with life on a daily basis without a numbing agent.    I sat there, shaking my head with understanding.  I thought EVERYONE cried at the end of Casper?!?   And a whole lot of other things.

Where is the balance?   I don’t know.   The older I get, the easier it becomes to screen or throw stuff out that I just don’t want to cope with.  I’m not talking about responsibilities, but others drama and things that frankly, bring me discomfort or discontent.   I have heard, numerous times, that most mental illness (including addiction) comes with an undiagnosed dual diagnosis.   I think about this, and I have many many friends who have been treated for one, and who still struggle.   It was like being diagnosed with ADHD just two years ago at 51.  Holy crap!    Medication made my life SO MUCH BETTER.  I was the first to judge another if they put their children on ADD or ADHD meds.  Now?  I encourage.  If this gives their child an opportunity to function better (and it will if they are truly ADD/ADHD), their life will be improved upon so much.  Mine has.

Most people my age are only diagnosed because their children were, first.     The things that I once thought were “normal” and that everyone shared, and now I realize, a big part of my self esteem and confidence being lower than it should.   Because I felt stupid, or lazy, sometimes crazy.   I have always known I’ve been wired different from others, but I always attached a negative connotation (just listed above) to it.   The truth is, I’m not stupid, nor lazy, nor crazy.   I’m not!  I struggle with mental illness and this isn’t fun.   But I’m not insane.

Most important thing for me to do has been and will be to learn how to cope….     I believe I have good self awareness, and I strive, I really do, to be a good person, do the right thing, one day at a time.    I’m not special in my struggles, I’m far from alone.   But you know what is worse?     It HAS to be having an undiagnosed, untreated mental illness.  And the stigma that is attached and has been to mental illness sadly keeps many lives struggling, with little quality.

I recently went off five medications after I was discharged from my outpatient therapy because I had missed too much time.  Another blog.   I weaned myself off, and started to pay attention to my body.   I believe I was overmedicated.   Now, I am starting to “feel” again, and my hands do not shake anywhere near what they did, which is part of why I stopped painting, teaching.   I’m doing well.   I’m focusing on the physical problems that need attention, and keeping a close check on my depression with close friends, through blogging, and a lot of prayer.

I want a quality life.   I want to feel peace, happiness.   I want to feel grief without losing myself to it, or several years of my life.   This means I have to learn to coping skills, and I have and am.     I need to accept that part of being me is being sensitive and to accept myself for who I am, and may very well always be.    I remind myself that God doesn’t make junk, and that I was designed to be perfectly imperfect.   We all were.

Today I’ve had a nice day, a peaceful day, a productive day.    I’m very grateful for this.   I’ll deal with tomorrow when it gets here.     Just want to say one more thing.  If you have never been diagnosed or treated for mental illness, educate yourself.  Read articles, peoples blogs, etc.   Only a very small percentage are really insane.  Most of us struggling with learning disabilities and mental illness are just trying to find our way out of the chaos that can ruminate in our heads.    I share on my experiences to help others know, they are far from alone.  I know it helps me to know this, too.

Happy Mental Health!

My kid sister

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51 years ago today, a beautiful soul was born into this world.    She was as cute as a button, and a very happy baby.darlene3 001

My sister had an old soul.   She was chronically wise.  A natural observer, she would often sit back and watch me open my big mouth, or do something that would inevitably get me into big doo doo’s.   We were 2.5 years apart in age.   When it came to common sense, she was born with it.

She had the biggest brown eyes, beautiful woman.   She had a great smile and she wore it more than most.   She was a happy person.  A hard worker, who equally played hard.   She lived wisely, she lived well.

It has been twelve years, maybe more since she was taken out of this life, too young.   Too young.   But when I say that, and I do feel that way, I am reminded of one of the many trips to Dartmouth Hitchcock for treatment, when we walked into the chemo ward and there was a child, a baby really, being infused with toxins to save his life.   “I guess I don’t have anything to complain about, do I now?”    I think of those words often, not to dwell, but to remember her strength, and to learn from her courage, her wisdom.

She died 10 months to the day of diagnosis, ovarian cancer.   She was 37 at diagnosis.    As I sit here typing this, all these years later, the journey through treatment, the painful truths that were worded carefully, revealing her fate, fills my chest cavity with void, with pain.    I don’t believe I will ever “get over” this.   And that is okay.   Death is a part of life, an important part.   I have come a long way in my grieving.   I seldom cry anymore, tonight I am.    Because I’m remembering the difficult journey she walked, and she did it amazingly well.  I never heard her complain.  Ever.  Please don’t say “I’m sorry”.    I was so fortunate to have known her.

I remember walking into Higgins Hospital in Wolfeboro NH, she was getting a transfusion.   I walked into her room, and she was white as a sheet,  double fisted in pain.   I asked when her meds were due.   “I could have them at 3pm” (it was 3:45)   “They’ve been really busy”.    I stood up, walked out into the corridor and down to the nurses station.   “My sister is in pain, her meds were scheduled for 45 minutes ago”.   “Yes, we’ll be right there”.    5 minutes later, 10 minutes later.  I walked back out into the corridor, this time offering no kind tone “MY SISTER NEEDS HER MEDS….. NOW!”     Within a couple of minutes she was given her meds.      I sat beside her bed, rubbing her arm, talking to her, trying to distract from what was obviously horrendous.  But you don’t really distract from that, do you?  Can you?    “Donna?”   Yeah, I said.  “Thank you”.    If you knew my sister, this spoke volumes of what her pain level was.   She didn’t like discord, and certainly didn’t want to ruffle any feathers.   She would roll her eyes at me when I would.   Night, day.

This woman meant the world to me.  If you have sisters and are close, I needn’t say more.  She lives on, in my heart, and my memories have faded some, but not drastically.    I can close my eyes and envision her sparkly brown eyes that lit up our fathers eyes, soul.   I remember that she didn’t like to try on clothes, so when we shopped, I would slide the pant leg up my arm.   If it came to the end of my fingers, they would fit her.   Laughing now.

Sometimes I think about the loss I have experienced, and I am not seeking sympathy, but reflecting on my life, on the lives of those I’ve loved and lost, and I just cannot believe I survived it.   But when I wrote her eulogy, I vowed to live every day of my life to the fullest.  I wanted to live a good life, to live a purposeful life, in her honor, in her memory.   Sometimes I think I’ve fallen short, I don’t think she would agree with that.  Sometimes I feel my best isn’t good enough, and it is.   I can hear her saying that to me.   “It is!   All you need is encouragement”.

So on this day, her birthday, I am going to do something kind for another, randomly, for her.   And I am going to do something kind for myself.    I am a better person for having her in my life for 38 years.   I know I, we, truly were fortunate to have her in our lives at all.   She was everyone’s favorite.

If you want to do something kind for another today, in her memory, I would love that, she would love that.  Remember, kind can be just a smile!   I will light a candle, and I will follow the ritual I have done since she passed.   It is a special day.   Today, 51 years ago, a beautiful soul was born into this world.  I know, because I was fortunate and blessed to call her my kid sister.  Today I, my family, will celebrate her life.

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ExCiTeMeNt!

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How do you share an opportunity of a lifetime with someone when you are so excited your presentation alone will scare them off?

I am crazy excited.   I am looking younger, feeling younger and taking charge of my own destiny!     My friends are looking at me like “Are you doing drugs?”   Um NO.   I’m very excited and want to share this with others.    For the past year I’ve dared to dream again.  I have hope and am running with it that my life could and will be so much better.  Having fun, looking youthful, earning moola.   PSYCHED!

For the past decade I have been struggling financially.  I know I’m not alone.   I would work 12 hour days, travel, flop into bed and wake up in the morning doing the same thing over and over.  My down time was spent crying, questioning my existence.  Yep, I was one gloomy girl.     Having hope is WONDERFUL!     Being excited about my life and the potential of it is WONDERFUL!   I want to share this with everybody because I believe they, too, can change their lives….all for the better.   

Don’t you deserve to at least look into it?    🙂 🙂 🙂    Now I shall stop my blabbing about this, well, for now.

My life is changing.  I am healing.   I am so grateful to be in the place I am, as it’s new, someplace I’ve never been.   It hasn’t been easy getting here, quite the contrary but the old adage “Anything worth having … dot dot dot!”    What if?   What if I could turn my life around?  What if I can be financially secure, my art can become my art, my passion without deadlines and traveling like a maniac to meet my bills? You know what?  I’m the only one who can do this and I’ve fallen into an opportunity that the potential is unlimited….   I’m doing it!!!!!!!!!!! WOHOOOOOOO…….

Tomorrow I’m off to Boston for my biannual oncology visit.    5 months cancer free and planning on continuing this road STRONG!

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LAUNCHING IN Canada this month!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Faith, Love, Brody

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I’m often asked “How do you choose what you write about?”  Well, that’s easy…whatever is on my mind!   Typically something will happen that will trigger thoughts during that day, other times I share on what ails me, pleases me.

One safe topic is the weather and we are having BEAUTIFUL weather here in Vermont.  Low 70’s, blue skies, a nice breeze that feels like silk on my skin.  The dogs are delighting in it as well, hanging out the windows of my jeep, running around like banches having fun.  The signs of winter have passed and far from my mind, well except saying that!   Trees and bushes are budding, flowers are breaking soil and just for this day I am grateful to be living in Vermont.

For the past decade or more I have had blue birds living in a few of my birdhouses outside.  This year, not.   I have only seen one blue bird, that’s it.   The houses are already filled with nut hatchers and I haven’t quite determined the other one, but I know the two do not like each other.  One so much larger than the other and a bully!

Today I’ve been thinking about faith, spirituality, that which we cannot see under microscopes or touch with our hands – Trust, reaching out our hands in the dark.   I have been fortunate (or conscious?) to have had many spiritual awakenings, moments that tell me, unequivocally, there is more than where we are right now.  There is existence following death, it changes drastically, but it’s there.  I take great comfort in this.  I can tell the days where my attitude is in need of tweaking as this is the time I begin to question that which I know.  That’s when I need to reach deep within myself to get past the crap and into the comforting.   I know when the darkness of depression veils it’s ugliness over me as I lose all sense of hope, faith, peace.   Sometimes I believe others think (hell at times I’ve thought) that I should be able to pull myself out of the throws of depression.  If only.   If only.   It’s something I wouldn’t wish on anyone, well maybe one evil bitch, but that’s it!  I didn’t ask to be born into this.   It has swallowed up many days of my life, too many.   Right now I’m free of it, and on the bad days (I’ve had a couple whoppers of late) I am so fearful that it’s returning.  Am I doing everything I can to help myself?  What can I do to help myself?   My therapist ‘reminded’ me today that the excuse I had to cancel my session on Wednesday was not acceptable.  Gulps.   I thanked her for the phone call and the reminder and told her I’d see her Wednesday!   Smiles.  My psychiatrist reminds me that I tend to stop doing the very things that help me, thus my entering into dangerous territory.   True.

Today it’s easy for me to have faith, I’m feeling well physically, mentally, emotionally and everything outside reminds me of mother nature which is dear to me.  Well maybe not skunks.   I drove past one which was road kill this morning and thought I was going to toss my cookies.  Perhaps THIS will be the year none of my animals get sprayed!   Wouldn’t that be nice?

loyal companionI’m missing my Australian shepherd, my Brody.   It’s been a little over a year since he passed.   He loved being outdoors.  Even in his old age (just shy of 13) he could no longer chase the Frisbees or tennis balls, but he would drag them around in his mouth.  Comical, and sweet.   He was awesome, truly awesome.  Sometimes my mom and my friend Robin get to talking about him and we get laughing hysterically.  He was very smart, you’d have to have met him and spent time with him to understand the depth of what I am saying.  He was almost human at times.   He was one of a kind and like all our pets, can never be replaced.   The one steady comfort that helps me to accept his passing was that he had one unbelievable life.  He really did.  He never knew kennels, he was seldom alone and he was a celebrity of sorts in the small town I live in.   I had a studio and gift shop next to the post office which he and my mother would open all week.  He greeted people outside as they were walking into the post office.   His agility, speed and talent of catching tennis balls in mid air (we’re talking using a ball thrower, fast) resulted in cars pulling over to watch him.    The pet store in the next town over said it was because of Brody that he has sold so many ball throwers!   He was known by kids, adults.   One day when I drove by the high school in the next town over he was hanging out the window (his favorite speed was 30-35) and a bunch of kids were waving and screaming his name “Brody!  Brody!”  I had no idea who they were but they surely knew him!

Time to get back to work.  Haven’t decided which task I’m going to tackle next, too many to list!