Tag Archives: mental-health

Lost

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A sunny mid October morning. I’m sipping my second cup of tea. I am tired from yesterday and the day before. Age is catching up with me. Lunches, art galleries, quilt shows and coffee with my father are adding up. I shouldn’t complain and am not. Getting out in the world and connecting with others is always a good thing. It feels like I’ve been in a vacuum this past year. I’m slowly making my way out into the world again.

It feels a bit overwhelming sometimes, waking up to the world we have today. But I am here, caught up in the constant traffic along with the rest of humanity. It is a bit disorientating. I am reminded of the time I was in Hong Kong. It was on a Friday afternoon when people got off work early. I was standing on the sidewalk with people streaming past me. The sidewalk was like a moving escalator. I was, of course, lost, a foreigner among her own people.

I’m feeling less lost and not getting lost as often. I check and plan where I am going. Now there is a Googles Maps app. I can get directions livestream right to my ears. Now there’s not much getting lost but I still get stuck frequently, starting and stopping. Life is never perfect. Whatever would I do if it was?

Feeling stuck, I do a walk through the house this morning, putting away and throwing out things. I do a walk out the door and through the garden and the greenhouse, snipping and pulling. I hooked the hose to the water catchment and turned on the water onto the greenhouse beds. It could be the last watering. Then it’s time to stop and make lunch. Another day and no dollar.

A Long time Coming

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Day 16 of the Ultimate Blog has started. Yesterday I posted a vision board to help me attain my goal of losing 17 pounds. It was composed of photos of my ideal self. It helps to keep it fresh in my mind’s eye. Even though I was feeling sluggish and lazy, wanting to be a hibernating bear, I didn’t cave in. It’s hard to start the morning with a cup of black tea so I didn’t. There’s something so delicious about that first cup of sweet and creamy Orange Pekoe. It’s a wonderful start to my morning. Just so you would know, I used just a tad of honey and 3 teaspoons of evaporated milk.

It was hard not to sink into my love seat after breakfast. I forced myself to run up and down the basement stairs. Noticing how dusty the stairs were, I vacuumed them. It wasn’t hard but the getting to it part was. I wondered if our brains have been altered by all our gizmos. I can’t really say I love scrolling but find myself doing it too often and for too long, wasting too much time and making myself feel not good. The scrolling and pushing of buttons make me feel impatient and frustrated. If I can’t get results right away, I’m pissed.

It’s silly I know but I want to lose my 17 pounds right away, at one try. That was in my mindset yesterday at the gym. I was sorely disappointed with the scale. I did not drop even one ounce. I am more reasonable today. I know it will take awhile to achieve my goal. I will focus on slow and steady progress. I will try to regain pleasure in doing hands on work. Some things just can’t be done by pushing a button or twitching your nose. Some things require hard work. There’s no getting away from that. It’s what I am in the middle of now – cleaning and decluttering my sunroom. It’s taken me a year to get to it. That’s a bit long, isn’t it? But I am here.

What do I Know for Sure

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Day 7 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m scratching my head, not knowing how to start the day or write a post. What I know for sure is if I don’t make a move, nothing will happen. It is also very true simple as it sounds, it is not all that easy to make a move. Sometimes I feel/am immobilized, stuck to the chair, as if one wrong move could cost me and not in a good way. What I also know for sure is life is mostly filled with tedium. I’ve often wished there was a camp for adults like they have for children. I wouldn’t mind being taken care of totally.

I’m sure that you would like to slap me. I should do that myself to snap me out of this thinking. What I know for sure is in reality, I wouldn’t like to be totally dependent with no will. So, I’ve slowly and painfully making efforts. I’ve gone up and down the stairs a few time, taking needed stuff down and bringing needed things up. I’m killing two birds with one stone. I’ve boiled water for a second cup of tea, doing toe raises while waiting for the water to boil. I’ve thrown out the dill in the fridge. It was causing someone to complain about its taste getting into everything.

I’ve cooked the cassava that was hanging out forgotten for weeks in the fridge. It was a new thing introduced to me by our friends on coffee row. It was bought in excitement and quickly forgotten till now. The root is quite hard to cut but easily peeled. It boiled easily within 30 minutes. The aroma was mild and pleasant. It tasted delicious. A word of caution- cassava is poisonous eaten raw. Makes one think twice, doesn’t it?

I’m so glad that I made an effort to move. Thank you to Oprah for the phrase, what I know for sure. Do you know she’s written a book by that name? Having read just the first few pages, I am not in love with it though I am an Oprah fan. She sounded too privileged talking of “hanging out with a group of girlfriends in Mauri; I’ve just come back from India and wanted to have a spa retreat at my house to celebrate turning 58. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that. She’s earned it. Still, it didn’t sound right to me. What I know for sure is that I am not quite as big a fan of Oprah as I used to be. I am sure it is not breaking her heart.

My list of Hard to Dos

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Life is hard. It doesn’t seem fair that it is so. There’s nothing I can do to change all that. The only thing I can change is myself and my attitudes. It is easy to make resolutions but not so to fulfill them. It is hard to get out of the ruts and harder still to stay out. I gravitate towards easy and the couch with a snack. But at least I’ve found my way to the keyboard. It’s a beginning of a journey towards doing the hard stuff.

Sometimes I feel as if I’m buried under an avalanche of hard to do stuff. When I think about it, I don’t understand why they are so hard. Why is the garbage hard to take out? Why is picking up something off the floor hard to do? All that is required is movement but I am often frozen, immobilized, my synapses not snapping and my limbs not moving. That is the why I come to the keyboard. I’m tapping for guidance. I’m tapping for motivation. I’m tapping for energy.

Kitchen and bathroom floors are more of the hard to do stuff. I’ve washed both this morning. Once I got started it didn’t feel so difficult and I wonder why I felt that it was so hard. By now I know not to vow to do them more often. I’ve vowed often enough and it has never happened. I have accepted some things will always feel distasteful and hard to do. That’s just how it is.

It is the end of the day. I’m sipping my decaf, waiting for supper, trying to bring this post to an end. My days are always busy. I am never bored. There’s always things to do – the garden and greenhouse to water, tomatoes to pick, cucumbers to harvest, seedlings to transplant. I’m hoping for a second crop of kohlrabi. These things are not hard to do. They come naturally without thought. But I am tired. My body and head need a rest.

The Ultimate Blog Challenge Finale

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For this last day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge, I have clear skies, sunshine and clean air. I have to love that. I’m bringing myself to the keyboard early to bring a closing post to the month/challenge. Intentions and goal setting do not get the job done. They help but I need to physically set my butt down in front of the keyboard and make my fingers work for the words and sentences. As I’ve said many times, I write for the love of it. Sometimes the love is not there. Then I have to do the hard work. Ironically when I am not loving but sweating it, the results are most satisfying.

In the past, I had the the do or die mentally. I MUST write a post every day for the challenge. I would stay up late. After being revved up, I would find it hard to fall asleep. I don’t do that anymore. Now I weigh my priorities. No more do or die. I give myself breaks. Writing and this challenge are still very important to me. They still give me much pleasure and a routine. I am engaging with others in the challenge. I am engaging with myself. Both writing and engaging helps my brain heallth. They help keep me in and with the world.

I hope I haven’t sounded too maudlin and depressing. I am a serious and melancholic person by nature. I do sigh alot. Sighing does make me feel better physically. I think it’s because I draw in more air/oxygen. I do try to write in a hopeful voice because I am a hopeful positive person. I am always in pursuit of being better, finding solutions. I put it all on the page. It’s my way of working things out. I’m a self-help junkie.

Many thanks for Paul Taubman for hosting and guiding us on this event. Thanks to all the participants and readers. You all add to the pleasure. You are much appreciated.

Just Pretend

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I feel so bland these days. I don’t think I could get excited even if you lit a fire in my pants. I wonder where it all went. I didn’t really try too hard to figure it out. I had no energy to spare. Instead, intellectually I know the best thing to do is move as if I am interested and engaged. In other words, just pretend. It works for Nat King Cole. It might work for me, too. If it doesn’t, at least I know I have tried.

Pretending I’m full of vim and vigor, I hustled out to the front yard early this morning with my pitch fork, garden gloves and a pail. I was going to tackle those darn creeping bellflowers while it was still cool and shady. The soil is still moist from the previous days of rain. It should be easy digging. It was. I didn’t get all the bellflowers but I did get a bunch. I transplanted a few amaranth into the bare spots. I hope they will take, flourish, flower and scatter their seeds in the fall for next spring. Right now they’re looking drooping

I didn’t stop there. I knew if I stop, I would not move again. I gave the shaggy grass a clip and swept up the clippings. Next, I put away my tools. If I didn’t, they would be hanging out for awhile. It’s best to pick up after myself as I go along. Surprisingly, I find the process soothing.

Being an early bee, I can get a few things done in the morning. Next on the list was blanching and freezing the shelled peas. It is not a hard job but the clean up is because by then I am tired. I pushed through that, cleaned up and put away. A job well done if I have to say it myself. Now it is the end of day 25 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

Pushing Through

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I’m feeling my fragility this morning. I’m afraid to go there, not even knowing where ‘there’ is. It’s well known it’s not good to watch the news before bedtime. It applies to reading news posts on social media with my morning tea, too. I’m greatly disturbed by 2 articles this morning. The first one on Mads Mikklesen, a Norweigan tourist being blocked from entering the U.S. The 2nd story involves an unprovoked attack on an Afghan toddler in Moscow airport.

I really don’t have the time or energy for this but it’s hard to avoid or resist bad news. My human nature of curiosity gets the best of me and I investigate further into the story of John Hunt even though it added to my distress and worsen my mental health. If I am to live in this world, I have to be awake to it all. Let me be a big girl, grow up and develop a strong backbone. I can do it.

It’s taking me time to write this post. There’s so much to do. I’m so weighed down with all my feelings. The only thing to do is push, push and push through despite everything. So I’ve paid this month’s bills and swept the sunroom floor. Though I was sagging with emotions and the humidity from our weird thunder and rain storms, I’ve repotted 4 of my mother’s house plants. It felt good to seem the plants perk up after. In between raindrops, I planted a row of coneflowers and a few marigolds in mom’s/dad’s frontyard flowerbed.

It didn’t feel so hard after everything was said and done. I was tired and sweaty but happy. I loaded the wheelchair and got my father into the car and off we went to the mall for a leisurely stroll and coffee.

Why I Keep Writing 2

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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

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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

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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.