Posts Tagged ‘depression’

Weekly news roundup – The Remicade week in review

This week was a bit of this and that, but this seems to be a good headline for this post for the nonce.

 

My week got thrown for a bit of a loop because I needed to do some hard things this week, but I did them, and I’m very proud of myself for it. Let’s look at last week’s goals.

 

Last Week’s Goals:

 

Morning pages: Going for all seven days (Sunday to Saturday). I made it 5 days again – missed Friday with a migraine and Saturday to just bleahs. Grey days seem to be hard.

Writing goals: Writing will happen on Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday. I need to re-juggle a bit of the Advent calendar, but that shouldn’t take long. I want 2 days written, and some work on a Sapph or Spike short. Writing did not happen on either Wednesday or Saturday. It will happen today, so yay? Although this goes on this week’s goals technically. And I did the book review for Perils of Prague, which you should check out.

Non-writing Goals:  I need to write up Brian’s page for the EK 50 memorial wall. No more delays. Also, now that the caftan’s design has been agreed upon, I need to get the waste canvas on it and decide how I’m going to do this. I might try doing embroidery on the waste canvas and see how that works. Not sure yet. More progress here! I got Brian’s page done on Saturday, which really hit me harder than I thought it would. But it’s done, and he’ll be in the Memorial Garden at EK 50 if you are going. I also figured out how to do the embroidery for the caftan, and started most of a crochet bag. And I finished the embroidery for the first favor. I also figured out taxes for my father’s companion, and finally called about my car accident.

 

So yeah, in retrospect, I think this was a successful week, even without the writing I wanted to do. So, on to this week’s goals!

 

This Week’s Goals

Morning pages: Sunday to Saturday again. I’m building a good habit, even if I don’t hit the full week yet.

 

Writing goals: I need to restructure Molly for this year, since I’m not trying to do 2 Advents this year. That’s the goal for this week. Today (Sunday), I’m going to do some writing on Sapph, I think. Also, Wednesday, I am putting the two first Molly books into Archivos, so I can start working forward. Before I do any more writing on the Carter’s Cove series, I need to get the bible going.

 

Non-Writing goals: This week, I need to finish my market bag that I am crocheting for myself, and do the test pattern for Brewcie’s caftan. Then I need to measure the pattern, and measure out how much I need to make the actual trim.

 

These are all good goals, and doable. Keeping this weekly post going has really helped keep me on track, and I’m finding that I’m getting stuff done. So thank you, all, for putting up with me while I do this!

Don’t forget, Winter Storms is currently out! Catch up with the second adventure of Molly and Schrodinger!

As always, you can buy me a cup of coffee on Ko-Fi!

 

 

(writing) Depression, demons, and morning pages

I’ve started my morning pages again, because I’m feeling the need to write in the morning, but my brain isn’t really speaking to me except in nasty tones, so I figure if it has the chance to spew itself out in my journal before I have to see people, I can actually function. This is the aim. We’ll see how it works in practice. We’re coming up on the second anniversary of my mother’s death, and I loathe the time change (seriously, who thought this was a good idea????), and it’s still winter and I hate snow and cold and grey. So yes, my depression is solidly entrenched and I don’t want to get out of bed in the morning, because then I have to adult, and adulting sucks.

 

Also, I usually have a Bear purring in bed with me in the morning, and the cat gravity of a 26-lb cat is immense. We’re talking Jupiter-scale. But sadly, my bills won’t be paid if I don’t get up.

 

So I was working on my morning pages this morning, and found a new character that I am also documenting here, because I want to write something about her. She’s a middle-aged woman (yep, me, totally me), and she lives with a bunch of cats who happen to be demons. Like, real demons, and they’re supposed to be tormenting her, but since demons have to conform to your perception of what they look like, she perceives them as cats, and they kind of like it. So she’s a crazy cat lady who isn’t actually crazy, and her demons have to go out and do demon things occasionally and then they come back, and she bandages their wounds and feeds them and snuggles them, and demons like to purr. I don’t know much more, but she totally knows they’re demons, and they know she knows, and they’re all pretty okay with it.

 

Now that I’ve gotten that down in several places so I don’t lose it, I’m going to look at resubmitting Requiem and then keep working on the prewriting for Seeds.

(writing/personal) The cycle of grief isn’t linear

There are a lot of books about how grief works, and they all talk about there are different stages and you progress through them. And maybe some people do actually progress through them. I don’t.

 

In two weeks, it will be one year since we found Brian in the bathroom. I’ve gone through all sorts of feelings, and to be honest, right now, I’m approaching the anniversary kind of dispassionately. I suspect it’s numbness, rather than acceptance, and according to many of the “experts,” I should be past this stage. It may be overload. The last two years have been so jarring, so out of what I expected from my life, that I don’t know if the wound is actually healing or if it’s just settled into a quiet phase, husbanding its pain for just the right time to burst forth with another explosion of acid and tears. I suspect the latter, because I can still feel a heaviness within me.

 

I suspect I always will.

 

But I can’t live within the past, yearning after what might have been. I can’t. I watch others I love do that, and it hurts just as much as the loss of Brian and Mom does. Time is a river, and no moment lasts forever, and if you try to make it stop, it resists. And it breaks. And your world breaks, in horrible ways. Photographs are an illusion that you can stop time, freeze it forever, but you really can’t, and all the photographs do is drag you back into memories. And that can be good, but it’s not healthy to live there forever. Time was meant to move, a sinuous, winding path that we walk down until our steps falter, and then….

 

I don’t know. Maybe we drop to another path, and start again. Perhaps we get a time of rest first, or perhaps it just all ends. I really don’t know, and I don’t think anyone else does either. I guess we’ll all find out in the end.

 

So what am I doing? I’m still on Whole30 (day 11 today, despite everything), and I’m sewing – my first cross-stitch project in over a year, if I remember correctly. I’m working on crocheting for Birka largesse as well. I’m writing. I’m starting my proofreading again.

 

I’m trying to live.

 

And that, in the end, is all any of us can do. Grief isn’t a straight-forward process: it’s a path of its own, and it doubles back, veers to side to side, heads off in directions that only seem possible once you start moving. It brings you to places you thought you’d lost, places you wish you had lost, and sometimes, it seems to be standing still, even though you know you have to keep moving. It’s a fog that surrounds you, lifting sometimes just enough to remind you that somewhere, there’s a sun that could warm you, but you have pull your cloak tightly around you, re-light the lantern that the wind blew out, and push forward through the clammy dankness. There’s nothing else to do.

(personal/writing) Long days and not giving up

It’s the beginning of the year, and in my day job, I answer questions about 401ks, pensions, health savings accounts, and health and insurance benefits. So needless to say, I’m working long hours, because Annual Enrollment just ended, and tax season just started. Yay, OT! Boo, long hours!

 

I’ve also started my Whole30 (I’m on Day 5!), which has meant a lot more cooking and a lot less convenience. Do you know they put sugar in steak fries? You know, the kind you buy bagged in the store and bake in the oven? Yeah, look at the list of ingredients. Dextrose. Sugar. Blows my mind. But anyways, I’m having to cook again, and my roommate is being awesome by eating most of it with me. It should be another added stress, but oddly, it’s not.

 

It’s something I’m in control of, and it’s helping me gain control of other things in my life. Like doing 10 minutes of Arts & Sciences for the SCA (I’m working on a dress for me and largesse bags right now, and I’m up to day 21 for that), and writing 100 words every day (today is day 7). I’m not pushing hard, but I don’t want to break any of my streaks. They make me feel like even though things are tough, I can get through it.

 

I got my very first tattoo this past December, and it’s really helping as well, reminding me to continue, even if it seems like the darkness is closing in. If you don’t follow me on Facebook, this is what it looks like:

Every day is a journey. It’s one more step along a path that I’m beginning not to fear again. Maybe I’m starting to finally heal. I’m trying to blog at least twice a week, and we’ll see how that goes. I’m also trying not to wear myself out.

 

It’s a fine line sometimes.

(writing) Working on a real schedule

write-all-the-things

I’ve been kind of wallowing lately in my own depression. I’m very open with the fact that I have depression, and August was a terrible month. I lost two very dear friends in August two years ago (Jesse L Cairns and PG Holyfield), my grandmother died last August, and my mother’s cancer was diagnosed last August as well. Add in that I suffer from seasonal depression anyways, and, well, yeah. Talk about a perfect storm.

I’m also suffering a bit lately from imposter syndrome, and it seems like every time I opened the computer, it bit me in the face so hard that I usually closed the computer back down, or starting playing World of Warcraft. And it’s time that came to an end.

So yesterday, I wrote 2388 words on Winter’s Storms, and today I am back in my studio, writing again. I’ve agreed to a schedule this week with my good buddy Beard, and so Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, I will be in the studio in the morning before work, getting words in. My goal is 500, but I’m hoping for more.

Wednesday is my Remicade treatment, so I will be writing all day (except when I meet my nephew for dinner). This will help set the stage, I hope, to keep myself going.

Look for another chapter today!