Rainey Daze and Crazy Nights

Poetry, Paintings, and Ponderings: Through My Eyes

Gypsy Vs. Small Town Me March 30, 2013

I am so restless. I itch to make things happen, and yet I do nothing. Is it because I am scared? Is it because I am just a lazy dreamer? Is it because I don’t know how to start? I don’t really know.

Am I destined to live my life with this restless spirit, or is there some way I can live this life I have and satisfy my desire to wander? It is like I am two people in one: one reliable person who is the wife and mother living in Small Town, USA. This person baked cookies, made homemade jelly, coached softball, and taught all the neighborhood kids how to create awesome science projects. She desired a house with a big yard and traditional furnishings. She is the good wife, daughter, and mother. The other person inside of me is a gypsy. She doesn’t care about social norms; she lives by her own set of rules. She believes in the spiritual goodness found in nature. Her one desire is to wander the earth to see all there is to see. Her life is found in a traveling caravan. She creates beautiful things just for the sake of beauty.

I know we all have different parts of our personalities, but mine seem to be constantly waging war with one another because they are polar opposites. The older I get, the more Gypsy me tries to take over. It’s like I have been what society expects me to be for as long as I could, and now I feel restless and rebellious to let the ‘real’ me take over. I want to see things, do things, have experiences that Small Town me could never do. Some times I am disgusted by what I allowed myself to become, because it is not the me I hold in my heart.

So, do I just walk away from this life? How do you walk away from a family that  you love? YOU DON’T! So how do you find a peaceful way to allow the Gypsy me to be satisfied without harming the people and life I led? I feel selfish just THINKING these thoughts; I lived my life putting my family before me. I have much to be thankful for; please know I am not complaining nor do I take what I have for granted. I just know this restlessness is not going away…it is growing stronger day by day.

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It’s Been a While March 26, 2013

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Feeling Better, Anti-Weepies, and Good Friends March 25, 2013

I’m getting there. Despite the chaos around me (or maybe BECAUSE of it) I feel…lighter. The heaviness in my head and chest is a little better today; the haze is lessening. I still have a certain sadness, a melancholy, if you will, but it is not crippling. I am able to think of tomorrow, and that there is a reason to see another tomorrow. That’s progress, my friends!

My dear friend Hannah (and she is a friend, even if I have never met her in “real life”) made a comment on my last post. She said I was bat-shit crazy and why didn’t I go take some damn anti-lunatic pills and stop pissing around already.

No, she didn’t really say that. 😉 But I wouldn’t be offended if she had! (See, I’m feeling better because my sense of humor is back.) This is what she actually wrote:

Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you considered medication? You are a wonderful, loving, giving person, and if you need some help getting through this period in your life, then you should have it. I’ve been on medication, and yes, it’s absolutely a crutch, but you know, sometimes you break your leg and it’s ok to use a crutch for a time. Not forever, maybe, but to get through the worst of it. So, all I’m saying is, if you don’t need it, then ok… but if you do, that’s alright, too.

My friend, I agree. Here is the sad thing: This is me on drugs. I AM ON MEDICINE!! And, here is the kicker…..they have changed it and increased it multiple times. Most of the time, I sail along with the usual ups and downs. But in recent years, the lows take me way, way down. Some may be situational…  after all, my life is the kind they write books about (and you would think it was all made up; no one could REALLY have a  life like that!). Some may be the residual effects of the abuse I suffered at a younger age. But I know some of these feelings are not based on current or past situations. Those mornings when I open my eyes only to see the darkness has descended; those days when nothing interests me; those nights when I beg my dreams to take me away, but all they do is mock me….that is depression in the purest form.

The pills do work. I stopped taking them once. Within days, all I could do was weep. Yes, weep. I’m not a woman to use that word lightly, but when the shoe fits…there is no other way to describe it. I. Could. Not. Function. I went back on the medicine, and felt like myself a few days later. That is NOT an experience I ever want to repeat. Don’t get me wrong; I like an occasional good cry: it is a powerful release that leaves me feeling cleansed and emotionally stable again. But WEEPING, however, is NOT FUN. You make no sense, the tears flow without any feeling of release, your nose gets all snotty and gross, and YOU CANNOT STOP! There is no end to weeping. It just gets quieter, but it doesn’t stop. It is a pathetic kind of crying with no purpose other than to make you look weak and stupid, and, yes, CRAZY. So I have no plans to stop taking my beautiful little “no-weepies” pills each day.

Do I need to go back and try a new kind of pill? Maybe. Okay, yes, I do. But that will have to wait until this summer, because I cannot afford to dive into the weepies at work. They kinda don’t know how unstable I really am, and I hope to keep fooling them for another day week year or two, if possible. So I will continue, the best that I can.

As for you, my dear friends, thank you. Thank you for your kind, encouraging words when things get tough for me. I’m not able to reply when things are bad, but I want you to know I am reading and it does matter. I know my bouts with depression are not fun to read about, but it is healing and helpful to me to get it out. I cannot say what I feel, and I hide it from those around me, but for some reason I can write about it straight from the heart. When I write, I don’t censor. So you are seeing me naked, down to the very center of my humanist. I am honored that any of you stick around to read. The fact that so many of  you actually care enough to comment and wish me well…it blows me away. It gives me hope for the human race. And yes, if I hadn’t taken my pills, I might even be a little weepy right now…

 

Trying Not to Fall Into the Abyss March 24, 2013

I’m trying. I really am. Every day when I wake up and look in the mirror, I tell myself all those positive things the therapists and self-help books tell you to say: “You are a valuable person. It’s okay to not be perfect because no one is.  You have empathy and talent. You are worthwhile. There are people who love you just as you are, faults and all. You are lovable.” Sometimes I even believe a small part of what I say, but mostly I look into my eyes and see a nothing person. But I promise, I am trying to find reasons to be alive.

I see everything as though I am peering through a thick, black fog. The haze is so real I can taste it. It leaves a heavy metallic taste on my tongue. My eyes feel gritty from trying to see beyond the haze, so I often just close them. When I am home, I try to sleep, but dozing is the best I can do. My mind is filled with every demon from my past chasing me into a corner. I fight the urge to just surrender. Giving up, surrendering, seems so alluring and easy, and yet I still fight. Something in me makes me keep fighting.

I think it would be better now, but life circumstances are conspiring against my healing. My dog, who is one of my huge reasons for living, is back in the emergency hospital with seizures again. I ache for him. Another financial problem reared up to cause even more stress. And then, of course, there is J, who is herself teetering on the edge of mania gone wild.

I can almost see the edge of the cloud, but my fingertips are tired; they ache to let go and just let my body and soul fall into the abyss.

Life circumstances are hard right now, and that is not helping.

 

The Pain of Depression March 16, 2013

Filed under: about me,all,depression — rainey46 @ 5:30 pm
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I feel as though I walk in thick mud that sucks at the heels of my feet with every step I take. The energy needed to walk into the next room exhausts me. I make it back to the couch and collapse into a heap. Sleep is my refuge; except it’s not really sleep. I drift in this semi-unconscious twilight where I imagine what I could do if I did not have this blanket of darkness. I think of all the horrible actions I’ve taken in my life, and all the horrible thoughts that tumble through my brain. This is why I suffer, I tell myself with disgust. I deserve the pain I have in my heart and my head. Horrible people deserve to live horrible lives. If the shoe fits, wear it. I wear it well.

Maybe I’m already dead, and this is my Hell. Maybe I’ve already lived my life and I was so bad I died and went immediately to Hell to suffer for all eternity. Except I don’t really believe that because I do have some good days.

I tried to paint today to see if it would help. I painted almost frantically for about an hour. Then I looked at my creation and threw it in the trash. I  have no talent, just occasional glimmers of mediocrity. I have the urge to throw away everything I’ve ever created. I want to trash my paints, brushes, wires, and beads. The idea is alluring, but requires more energy than I have at the moment. Perhaps tomorrow.

 

 

It’s Coming March 14, 2013

It’s coming. I can feel it, breathing down my neck. It’s not here yet, but it is close. When I gaze in the mirror, I can feel it hovering just out of view. When I walk down a long hall and turn the corner, I can almost catch a glimpse. As I stare into my own eyes, I feel it staring back, right there behind the dark brown flecks of my irises. Just the thought is wearing me down.

There is nothing I can do. It will come, it will stay as long as it wants, and it will leave just as abruptly as it came. It will tear me apart if it wants, and leave me in tiny little pieces that I can never, ever make fit perfectly again. I will fake it for as long as I can so that no one else can see the turmoil it brings. I will fake normal so no one will know my secret. But I know, and IT knows.

How long is my uninvited and unwanted guest going to stay?  Will I make it? Will my life be so interrupted that nothing is ever the same again? Only it knows.

I hate depression.

 

 

cRaSh March 11, 2013

Filed under: about me,all,journal,life,lifestyle,personal,thoughts — rainey46 @ 7:27 pm
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Life just rolls along, everything going fine, then….

CRASH

[Heavy sigh.]  Sometimes my life is a train wreck.

 

Laughter is Good For Your Heart March 9, 2013

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The Anticipation of Fridays March 8, 2013

Ah, Friday! Do you know why I love Fridays? Fridays wrap up a (usually) long week, and they hold the promise of the weekend. Work is over, and, at least for a short while, I can forget about the workday problems.

Blue alarm clock

Blue alarm clock (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Fridays are filled with the anticipation of sleeping in, lounging around in pajamas and leisurely sipping hot cups (yes, cups!) of coffee. No alarm clock blaring obnoxiously loud music will jolt me from my slumber. Reading, painting, going on a day trip to take photos…all are weekend possibilities that tease me on Fridays.

 

It doesn’t matter if none of these adventures come to fruition; it’s the anticipation that beacons me on a Friday afternoon. My  weekend could turn out to be crap, but on Friday, I dream of relaxation and spontaneous fun. The reality is I still must find time to scrub the toilets, wash a mountain of dirty clothes (Seriously! How do we dirty so many items in five little days?), and any number of mind-numbing household tasks. But on Friday, I see the hours of unstructured time stretched before me like a red carpet leading to the ball…I am Cinderella, just as soon as I wash my ball gown and find that damn missing slipper…

Glass slippers

Glass slippers (Photo credit: Glamhag)

 

Too True to be Funny March 6, 2013

Filed under: all,mental health — rainey46 @ 8:42 pm
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