Tag Archives: mental-health

Why I Keep Writing 2

Posted on by
Reply
Photo by Judit Peter on Pexels.com

I would never run out of words on why I keep writing. I write mostly to comfort myself. It’s my soother/pacifier. I never had one as a baby but I probably used my thumb as most babies do. It’s very satisfying. My keyboard/pen and paper are at hand. I’m not dependent on someone else to make me feel better. My experience has been that when I most need help/an ear, no one is available, adding to my distress. It’s no one’s fault.

I’m on a stretch of good days. They came with the rain we’ve had the last few days. We are all connected. What is in one is in the whole, as Caroline Myss says. I’m taking advantage of this easeful flow of energy. Somethimes these moments are fleeting. They could be gone with the next cloud, after lunch. There are no guarantees. I’m making an early start to my day before my head and mind gets polluted and distracted with this and that.

I had a few words here to kickstart a post, took out 2 bags for the garbage and made a start of baking bread. The bread took all morning and a bit into the afternoon. The 6 loaves are cooling on racks. The pans are washed and drying in the still warm oven. My energy and mood are dipping. I am happy with my morning’s work. I will take my father out to the mall for a walk and a coffee. He is worried that he is costing me time and gas. He said he had a dream the other night that my mother gave him heck for causing so much trouble.

That is/was my mother, fiercely independent, not good at accepting help. She didn’t want to make things harder for us by taking up our time. It was difficult to make her understand that she made things harder by not accepting our help. That was how she was and I had to accept it. My father is more receptive and appreciates my company.

I ran out of energy yesterday to finish this post. I’ve lost the flow and good cheer. No two days are equal. The sun is shining. It looks and feels like summer. We had some excitement to start the morning. There was 4 police cars parked along our street. No sirens but I saw a policeman entering a yard a few houses down with a rifle poised over his shoulder, just like on TV. We heard no gunshots. We saw no activity before we left for the gym.

Staying Alive

Posted on by
1

A restless, uneasy morning. Another one of my sad sack moody days. Let’s see if I can tap away my mood in tiny bits and pieces. I feel the urge for a cup of decaf. I’ve already drank 2 large cups of Orange Pekoe tea. Is it the tea and coffee that I crave? Or is it the cream and honey that I put in them? I suspect it’s the latter. Some days I drink up to 5 cups of tea and decaf. Too much for my liking. The more I drink, the more I crave. It’s hard to stop. Using the knowledge that I’ve learned from Tiny Habits: The Small Changes that Change Everything I made myself a healthier cup of dandelion tea instead. I will use the feeling of craving for another cup of decaf as a prompt to make a cup of herbal tea instead.

Yesterday was hard. I found it difficult to finish writing so I didn’t. I felt bad, a physical and psychological pain at the same time. It might be hard for you to fathom that. I don’t know how else to describe it. I was not feeling good. I saw no purpose, no joy. I want to escape. If I could push a button and disappear, I would. Have you ever felt like that? I wonder if there was a blip in my brain chemistry. I knew it would pass. I put one foot in front of the other and carried on. I pretended I was John Travolta dancing to the tune of Staying Alive.

My brain blip did pass shortly after I had my afternoon visit with my father. I put in an effort. I couldn’t very well let everything hang out. It was good to see my father in a chipper mood. He is also putting in an effort. He is looking a little trimmer following my advice of cutting back on the rice and the leftovers. I told him it’s better to throw out a little bit instead of eating it because he didn’t want to waste. I am surprised that he listens to me on this and other matters. It goes to show that no matter how old you are, you can still change. My father will be coming 94 in July.

I can change, too. I’ve only had one cup of decaf yesterday and today instead of my usual 3 or 4. When my brain is wanting another cup, I make a cup of dandelion tea. i wasn’t able to draw a teacup yesterday for #the100dayproject. Not sure if I can today either. I will see. I am tired. I did a whole whack of gardening and weeding today. It is a good tired. I am staying alive.

Small bites

Posted on by
Reply

A super grey cool day with drizzles. The drizzles are welcome, no matter how small. They’re much needed moisture. However, the grey and cool are not conducive for cheer and action. I am in a grey slump, not jumping up and down with excitement nor smiling with glee. I am feeling glum and being negative. There is no point in putting on a phony face. I do apologize for my negativity but I thought it is okay to feel not okay and face and accept what is here.

I am not a total ‘loser’ for lack of a better word. Though I feel lackluster, I am not inert. I still have a bit of life force in me. I’ve been reading Tiny Habits: The Small Changes That Change Everything by B.J. Fogg. It lit up a small spark in me on this dreary day. I’m already a fan of doing small and doing easy. This book is a great addition to what I have already learned from Atomic Habits.

Rainy days are good for falling asleep and not so good for for finishing posts/projects or for starting them as you can see. I’ve come back to finish what I started yesterday. This way I can honestly say I’m writing every day. Chocolate cake and a coffee does help to wake me up a bit. Writing on doing small and easy and tiny habits do push me to test out the idea of tiny. A bunch of tinys do add up. They have the potential of becoming something big. On difficult and/or rainy days when tasks look monumentally difficult, taking small bites works better than trying to tackle the whole thing.

It works for me. That is how I am getting through the days of this difficult year. Today, I’ve meditated and wrote my morning pages. Last night’s supper dishes and today’s breakfast dishes were done after breakfast. That’s how I start the morning. It starts me up. Then I cosy up with a cup of tea and some reading. We took my father out for lunch. It gets us all out of the house on a grey rainy day. It’s cheery to eat in a restaurant full of other diners. Dad gets a walk in the mall after. Takes his mind off his shingles. The pain is not too bad. He is on tylenol and can sleep and nap despite the discomfort. I feel I’m doing a good job as a daughter with short time spent.

The afternoon is peaceful. I seed a small pot of broccoli and another of brussels sprouts. They will germinate fairly quickly. Our spring is none too warm yet. I’ve painted my teacup for the #the100dayproject. I’ve bagged up some old clothes for the garbage. Then I’m out in the yard, pulling a few of those darned creeping bell flowers. After all the digging up I did last summer, they are creeping up again. I’m applying doing small and easy on them. I will see where that gets me. I’m going to learn how to live with them wisely. And that is not killing myself trying to obliterate them.

Ups and Downs

Posted on by
2

I wonder when the sun will come out again. Will it rain again? Our earth is very dry and thirsty. It’s hard to be hopeful in today’s climate. I envy the toddlers toddling about, laughing and jabbering, impervious to the clouds and the cool. When did we lose this ability? Can we get it back? And how do we go about it, if we can?

I am not holding my breath, waiting for answers. I’m feeling a little stuck again. I don’t want to stay there. I do the dishes. I warm up our lunch. We eat. I do the dishes again. I hang up the laundry. I potted up the snowpeas I’ve germinated for the community garden – all 100 of them. While they continue their germination journey in the potting soil, I will gather my strength and plan how to plant our plot for its best and possible last year there. It’s time to do a little downsizing for our advancing years.

Downsizing is no small thing. It’s a big challenge. When I was young, the house and yard were never too big even though there was only one of me. Now that there are 2 of us, it’s enough. I am older and not craving more of everything. We could do with less. It would mean less space to clean and less space to collect stuff we don’t need. We have what we have in space but we don’t have to keep all the stuff.

Ridding what we don’t need is not an easy thing. It is a slow process for me but I did start today with some of my mother’s stuff. The thing to do is not to handle, examine too much. Bag them up quickly with no hesitation. Otherwise, memories and attachment form. I almost hung on to 2 pairs of mom’s shoes by trying them on. They fit and look almost new. Then I remember I already have too many shoes. I quickly put them back in the box and into the bag with her 2 purses.

It’s another day or what is left of it. I feel as if I’ve lost and squandered most of today. I did not meditate nor journal this morning. Instead I was scrolling through the many shared Jan Arden’s video on Alberta’s want to separate from Canada. The many comments slamming Jan was not good for my spirit. It coloured my day and did not help my already tired body and soul.

I am afraid I was a sad sack though I try not to show or dwell on it. I pushed through it with physical activity. Now I’m trying to be kind to myself. Chocolate cake does help. I remind myself that I am just a human being, flawed and complaining all the while. It’s hard to suffer in silence.

These Moments

Posted on by
9

I took a 2 day vacation from the Ultimate Blog Challenge. My income tax return was calling me with urgency. I was not keen but I knew it was best that I gave it my undivided attention. I’m glad that I did. I am now breathing easier. I knew from past experience it was not a terribly hard or lengthy process. Still, I go through these moments annually with it AND often with other issues. These moments of feeling impending boom – from putting off, procrastinating,thinking of the worst possible scenarios.

I haven’t push the review and optimize and send buttons yet. I’m there but I am still procrastinating. At least the feelings of dread are lighter. I’ve gone through piles of papers the last 2 days. I’ve investigated how long I need to keep certain documents and made a pile for shredding. My head feels better, not as fuzzy and befuddled. I saw that I was organized once upon a time. At some point, I dropped the ball. I do not berate myself. Life is hard. These last couple of years have been very hard. I’ve done the best I could. Some things are more important than others. I prioritized.

I’m still experiencing some of these moments. This morning I got lost in scrolling through news of our federal election. I skipped my morning meditation and writing my morning pages. I realize I could lose my whole day scrolling through this and that. It’s a time waster but somehow it is a soother. I used my will power to curb my instinct and looked towards other more useful means of pacifying myself. I got off my butt and washed the dishes by hand. I found the physical act of washing by hand calming and have been doing it for awhile. Next was the dust mop on the kitchen floor and sweeping up the crumbs form our meals.

Now, I am tapping out the last words for the second last day of this challenge. I feel it is important to finish what I had started.

Bit and Pieces

Posted on by
11

Here I am again, sitting in sunshine, sipping my tea. I’m tired already, thinking too much on life, death and taxes. I’m working on not letting all that get me down. That’s life as people like to say. Every day babies are born and people die. We know we can’t escape the tax man. I must set a time within the next 6 days to file mine. Everything sits heavy. There’s no escape. Maybe a tylenol might give me some ease.

I don’t want life to drown me. I’m trying to find my way to the shore and get on solid ground. I tell myself feelings aren’t always real. I can still move and function well inspite of them. My mantra in life has always been No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up. During this April it has been make it simple, make it easy. I break jobs into bits and pieces. They add up. I’ve been doing things this way for a long time, even in writing. First, a word, then a sentence. String them together and you have a paragraph. I learned the importance of one small step at a time from Anne Lamott’s book, Bird by Bird. It’s a wonderful little book.

It applies not only to writing, but just about everything in life as well. I’ve sewn 100 log cabin quilt squares that way a few years ago. I have yet to put them together though. It’ll be my square by square project in winter. I talked about getting moving on with my gardening. All I could do yesterday was water the greenhouse and plop 4 cauliflower seedlings in the raised bed outside. It’s not much but it’s not nothing. This morning I’ve managed to pot up 3 squash sprouted seeds before my mood got the better of me. I’m getting things done, living life in bits and pieces.

Choosing Joy

Posted on by
12

Things don’t flow easily for me and joy doesn’t come naturally. And so I have to make choices and work at making them come true. I have never sung in the shower. It’s hard to bounce out of bed in the morning. I felt stuck to the mattress. I didn’t want to stay there all day so I had to choose to unstick and hoist myself out. I didn’t really want to go to the gym either. But I knew it was good for what’s ailing me. I chose not to dwell on my ‘feelings’ and went.

In the past, I have allowed my emotions to rule the roost. Now having lived through many ups, downs and sideways, I have more experience and better control. I am in the driver’s seat and can decide whither I shall go – most of the time. I don’t want to keep falling into Portia Nelson’s hole in the street. I walk down another street called joy.

“I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.”

A GOOD PRACTICE

Posted on by
4

It’s another first day of the rest of my life. I’m as grumpy as all get up. Summer heat makes my whole body ache on rising. But I shall grin and bear it. I’m going to tackle my most dreaded chore of tackling the paper pile today. I’m not exactly fresh nor energized but mornings are still my best time. We’ll see how I will progress. Nothing happens if I don’t begin. Beginning is hard. Beginning is the magic word.

Purging is the first step. Boy, what a chore! I’m very bad at not opening my mail. That was my first pile. They’re mostly opened now and put in their appropriate piles. I’ve had this problem for a long time. It’s something that I do know. There’s only one way to correct it. That is to open my mail and deal with it ASAP. Let me put it on the list of bad habits to correct. I’ll start off August with opening each piece of mail. Let me to see if I can do that for the whole month.

It is now middle of the afternoon. My box of paper is not overflowing anymore. My bills are paid. I will not try to do any more hard sorting today. I do feel less overwhelmed. Why do I keep doing that to myself, eh? Over and over. I will not try to deal with the psychology of all that. No need to be that gerbil on the wheel. I can just fall off and do the work.

It’s another first day of the rest of my life. There has been a couple of such days since the last. I don’t profess this great or inspired writing. I just want to chart my progress of this journey call life. Once you hit a certain age and certainly after retirement, there are less significant markers. But I can’t say that for this year. Covid-19 is a huge marker of 2020. Myy mother’s shingles experience is memorable but with a good outcome. Sheba’s leaving us for doggy heaven was heart wrenching but natural in the order of life and death.

It’s good for me to do my tapping/talking here. I know I’m not being correct when the words hit the page. I can do an edit. But if I keep it all inside, the words and worries will turn over and over, fester and grows infectious. They can poison my body and soul. This is a good practice for me. Now that I’ve tapped out a few words and thoughts, I will head over to sort some paper clutter. Another day in the life of….

CRAZY

Posted on by
4

What I know for sure is thoughts can drive you crazy. I have been a bit crazed these last couple of days. Round and round they go like in a mix master. They are well blended now – all in a gooey mess. I’ve been driven slightly mad with it all. That’s why I come to this place to tap out the letters, words, thoughts. It soothes me, slows down the mad rush of emotions swirling within. Maybe I can sort them out one by one. Maybe I can make sense of everything and save my sanity.

The police liason officer have met with me and the woman next door. This is our second such meeting. The first time was last fall. At the time the officer knew that he would have to come back again. It’s too bad that he’s away on leave. But the second officer was equally capable and sometimes it’s good to have a different set of eyes. He got back to me yesterday after his meeting with the neighbour. He sounded surprised that she seemed quite mentally disturbed. I felt a bit ‘amused’ for lack of a better word. Perhaps, after 12 years of experiencing her, I’m finding her disturbness ‘normal’ but she’s just difficult.

At the time of our conversation, I had somewhat recovered my composure. His visit the day before had stirred up alot of unpleasant emotions, of anger and helplessness. And that was what I expressed – my anger, frustrations and feelings of helplessness. Because in the end, all this is about nothing. He understood. He agrees it was nothing, that he spent 15 minutes talking to her. She showed him weeds where there were none. She showed him her messy driveway from our one pine needle on it. He was shocked by the things that bothered her. She took him to her backyard to show our mess between the fence and garage. He didn’t see any mess.

But in the end, as I already knew, there’s really nothing to be done. They could arrest and charge her for throwing rocks at me and tearing my signs down. But it would not be appropriate or fair because she has mental health issues. I agree. I don’t want her jailed either, but it is also not fair to me to have this person harassing me all the time. He also agrees and emphasized how strange she is and how very fixated she is on my yard. I already knew that. She is also very fixated on me.

I do not like it one bit that it is still I, who has to do the accommodating because of her mental state. I suggested that she should get some counselling. He agreed and said maybe medications.  He would call her or pay her another visit. He also suggest that I ignore her and let her mess in those 6 inches along her driveway. I informed him that’s what I have done for 12 years and it hasn’t work. She pushes the envelope way beyond.  I suggest that when he sees her, to measure out the 6 inches with her. We both agreed that this is really not about boundaries. It’s about everything and nothing. I did not tell him that I think she’s playing up her mental health thing with him. She is very smart and clever in these ways. All the same, I wouldn’t say she got all her marbles.

There I have it. Something and nothing. It’s the something about nothing that drives me crazy. But I’ve dumped it all out on the page. I’ve inhaled and exhaled. I’ve done my best. I’m letting it go – again. I will let the drama play itself out. The case is closed until the next time. And I know there will be a next time. Oh, the drama on Preston Ave. is fodder for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I should be grateful, eh?

WHY?

Posted on by
2

You wonder how and why a 17 year old male could open fire at a high school in Sante Fe today. He killed 10 people and injured another 10. You wonder how this could happen so soon after the Florida high school shooting where 17 people were killed. Of course mental health plays into it. But without weapons of mass destruction, there would be less young lives lost. What would it take to stop all this? Some of the answers are quite simple but why are the lawmakers so unwilling?

It’s politics, I know but it’s not something I can understand. I’ve listened and heard all the rhetorics on how all life is sacred, even the unborn fetus. There’s interest groups that abhors abortion and would protest vigorously and violently against it. But what about the lives that are already born?

It’s late, I know for such musings and questions. I’ve just watched the news. No, it is not a good idea to watch it just before bedtime. There’s really  no good time to watch such news. But it is a waker upper, making me feel totally bizarre. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH US? As Caroline Myss would say, STOP IT. Go put your head in the toilet for 7 minutes. Chill or take a pill. It’s too late for therapy when a 17 or however old person has a gun/guns in his hands.

Sorry, just a bit late night ranting. Trying to find a bit of sanity in a mad, mad world. Sometimes it’s not a bad idea to scream. I’ve done my share. My throat is a bit sore from it all. I will say good night now.