Catching Up, part 2

I promised I’d continue this update, and, I didn’t want to go 4-5 months with a gap. 🙂

The problem is, a lot of what I dealt with is so personal, because it involves family issues, too. I don’t feel right just throwing it out here online. I’ve gotten better at communication, but there is a matter of someone else’s privacy I have to keep in mind. Sorry, y’all.

2017 was my climb out of that pit, and figuring out where all the good rocks were if I ever ended up there again. On the way out, I had to face a lot of things I’d just pushed to the back of my mind and I started talking about them. I found out what was painful and what I was still angry about, and let myself feel those things.

It wasn’t easy.

At some point along that journey I felt I needed to relocate. Most of my family and all of my close friends were hours away and I never got to see them. I felt isolated and lonely, and felt like I was missing so much. I also had things going on back home, and I needed a break.

When I moved here, I had expectations of spending so much time with them. What I didn’t take into account was that they had their own lives, too. I hardly get to see anyone. Really, there are times I feel as though I may as well be back where I used to live. I suppose the grass is always greener…

grass_is_greener

More details from here involve the personal info involving another family member… I’m not going to go into further details, suffice to say things are ok.  I have another move in front of me now, and this is a good one. 🙂

Moving out was a necessary part of this journey, though. I learned I can’t keep running from my issues. I need to stand where I am and face them. Pushing them down doesn’t work, nor does moving away.

I don’t see this journey of recovery as being over anytime soon. I see it as a journey of growth; and, as we all know, we never stop growing.

Rise From The Ash Phoenix Quotes Like A Phoenix She Will Rise Fr

Catching Up

Where do I start? Yeah, it’s been a minute or so, but I’m still here, and I’m still alive. It was close there, once, and I’ll write about that. But it’s been so long since I’ve posted, this is probably going to be split up into 2-3 posts.

Let’s see…. Last time you heard from me was January 1st of this year. I suppose, for my writing track record, that’s not such a gap.

oops

Let me start with some serious back story that starts with that pit of depression I’ve always written about, and came to a head in January 2017.

You all know I’ve done a dance with depression for years. Hell, we’ve been familiar with these steps all my life. I’ve been up and down that deep, dark pit so many times, you’d think I’d know where it is by now, and maybe I’d have built a ladder or something to make it easier to get out.

But it’s not that easy.

This last time I fell into the pit was probably the deepest, darkest trip. I remember writing, on Christmas Day of 2016, that year, how I just wasn’t even into the holiday spirit. That was the first year I’d never even decorated. I just didn’t feel it. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything.

I felt isolated and alone, and I knew I’d put myself into that position because of my depression. But I felt hopeless, because I felt like there was nothing I could do about it. I was just stuck in the dark pit.

By the beginning of January, 2017, I had my breakdown. I didn’t know when I put the pills in my hand, but thankfully, I realized I had, and I made a phone call.

menopauseexpress.com_depressed-and-worried

I spent 3 weeks in the hospital. I won’t go into the details there except to say it was probably the best thing I could have done. It saved my life. If I hadn’t checked in there, I wouldn’t have started my journey out of that goddamned pit.

While I was there, we were all supposed to set a goal for the new year. I wasn’t really into this. I wasn’t into anything – I’d just arrived. So I didn’t write anything. I just drew a wandering line, representing a thread. At first, I thought this was all I was hanging onto, but then I realized that this was my thread back to the “happy”. Eventually, that thread would become a string, and maybe someday, a strong rope.

 

2017 was a journey back to finding out who I was and finding out what made me happy again. Things changed in my life, my attitude, and I became a little stronger.

thread

… To be continued…

 

 

 

A New Year, A New Beginning

Today is the first day of 2018. Wow. We made it through another year.

We always seem to say things like, “To hell with [the previous year], it was so bad! On to the next one! Let’s just get this done already. This new year will be so much better.”

I don’t say that anymore, because inevitably, the next year is even worse. I feel as though I presented the Universe with a challenge, and the Universe replied by saying, “Oh, really? Watch this.”

2017 truly sucked for a lot of people I know. It wasn’t the best year for me, either. We’re all glad to see it done. But as for me? I’m just happy I got through it. I survived every piece of crap 2017 had to offer, and every painful moment, and I’m stronger for it. We may be a little shaken, but we got through. Hey, that says something.

Fuck you, 2017. You thought you could take me down? HA! I’m tough. I’m a kid from East Dallas.

Happy New Year, everyone.

— Peace.

 

 

New Alexa Feature: Wake the Dead

I got Alexa when Amazon first put her on the market, and I’ve watched her grow and develop new features. I never knew Alexa could wake the dead until yesterday morning. She really can do anything.

Let me give you some background on this one.

The husband goes fishing every now and then. Alas, he leaves at a gawdawful hour of the morning. Three o’clock should only come once a day, IMHO, and that’s PM. But this time he was going to the beach, and I do so love to see the sunrise at the beach. So I decided to go.

Of course, that’s much too early to feed our dogs and cats before we leave.

So around 11:00am I remember to call The Dude (no longer “the boy”, as he will be 20 in January). No answer. Three times, I get voicemail. The Dude is asleep.

“What can I do,” I ask myself. Then I’m struck with the most mischievous idea. And it just might work!!

I pull up my Amazon music through the Alexa app, and remotely start playing “Sister Mary Elephant”, by Cheech and Chong… at full volume. Now, for those of you too young to know this reference, here’s a sample:

I watched the track go by on my phone and let it go just long enough, then I stopped it. I gave The Dude a call. LO! HE WAS ALIVE!! And I was much amused at his adrenaline rush and confusion.

Yes, I have my evil moments.

Yes, that was one of many.

Yes, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Father’s Day

To all the good fathers out there, I wish you a happy Father’s Day and I hope today was a good day for you.

:: sigh ::

It took years of therapy, a good conversation with my sister today, and still, I have a hard time writing that opening sentence.

I hope you didn’t have to deal with a dysfunctional family when you were growing up. I doubt anyone has the traditional “nuclear family”, but surely, there is some example of normal out there somewhere. I hope you had it in your childhood. I figure, if you did, you probably enjoy things like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.

My sister and I, we didn’t. We like to believe that the crazy environment we grew up in made us the strong people we are today. It’s true. If you survive something like that, you are stronger.

But you remember your parents. Days like Mother’s Day. may be easier to handle if you are a mother. You strive to be a better parent, and you love your children. I can handle Mother’s Day.

Still, I hate Father’s Day.

He was never around. Or, if he was, he was so drunk he wasn’t present. He never made the effort to be a part of our lives. What kind of father was that? Please….

I’ve always had this mental block on Father’s Day. I just don’t remember when it’s coming around. Unfortunately, this means I need to set a reminder now…. My husband adopted my kid, and my husband isn’t such a bad guy. I have to make myself say the words now…

Happy …

:: closes eyes and swallows ::

Father’s Day.

:: deep breath ::

Gods above, can’t I call it something else????

Are we doing this again?

I remember, as a young child, feeling very put out because I couldn’t watch my after school specials in the afternoon. I was quite upset. You see, my Gran was keeping up with something far more important. President Nixon was drowning in the Watergate scandal and the Senate Intelligence Committee was thoroughly investigating the issue.

Gran watched daily to see testimony and to find out what else the President was lying about. The rest is history, as we all know.

At the time, I didn’t understand. I found it boring. I much preferred watching sci-fi movies about alien invasions and Godzilla.

This morning, I’m watching Former Director of the FBI, James Comey, give the long awaited testimony regarding the Russia investigation, his conversations with President Trump, and how things were handled.

I don’t know if this will answer questions or just create more. But I do know there will be more to come. That’s how these things work.

And now, I do understand why my Gran watched so closely back in 1973. It’s just the need to know the truth, regardless of what side of the political fence you’re on. If you don’t support the current Administration, you watch because, hopefully, this is the beginning of the end. If you do support them, you watch because you know your candidate is right and there’s nothing to fear from the investigation.

Regardless, we’re all watching.

Stolen Hope

This one is dedicated to one too young to have left us. I’m also dedicating it to her family, and anyone else out there who either suffers from depression or knows someone who suffers from depression.

fog_of_depression

Life is so fresh
And we try to seize every day
But some of us just can’t.
Sometimes it’s just overwhelming.
We’re lost in this … fog and we can’t get through.
We don’t see that pit we’re about to fall into,
Where we tumble into the oh-so-familiar abyss.

But we see a light up there.
We climb out … once more into the fog.
We try again.

stumbled-into-the-pit

 

Some of us just get tired of trying.
Some kind of thief steals our hope and we no longer see the light.
Everyone has their own thief.
You’ll meet him if you ever fall so far into the abyss

rock-bottom

You truly hit bottom.
He gets in your head in that dark place and finds a way
To steal that last bit of hope,
Leaving you no strength to climb out again.
All you have are your choices – the rest of your life at rock bottom,
Or some method your thief left behind to end the pain.
If you’re lucky, you remembered you brought your phone with you.
Most of the time, people don’t remember.

The younger you are, the more vulnerable you feel.
You may have turned your phone off.

Baby girl, you were so young.
I can’t ask you why you never talked. I’ve been there.
I can’t ask the gods “why”, either.
The gods died last night when they let this happen.

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