Everything Is Awesome!

The silly song "Everything is Awesome," from The Lego Movie, popped into my head this morning as I was ruminating on my emotional state.

Okay, so everything is not awesome. But it is, I think, a fair deal better than it was the last time I posted. Not a lot has changed circumstantially, but I think the clouds are lifting. I hope they are. Anyway, I had the surprising thought that I could at least try to make everything awesome.

I don't know for sure, but I think that a medication I have been on may have been contributing to my depression and anxiety. It's not something I'm prepared to go into full detail about here, but suffice it to say, I've stopped taking the medication as of 3 days ago, and I'm crossing my fingers in hopes that this will make a big difference in my overall mood.

In the mean time, I'm trying to keep myself occupied with work and things I simply enjoy. When I start to feel down, I am reminding myself that it's not as bad as it has been. I am currently able to actually do things and stay focused for longer periods of time.

I am reading again, which is next to impossible when I'm depressed. I'm currently reading, Outlander, mostly because I became enthralled by the Stars adaptation when it first came out, and I can't watch it at the moment due to having limited internet and limited TV. (Welcome to rural KY.) I'm also working on fun projects, such as crocheting some mittens for a swap (I am a Swap-Bot addict.)

And I have a big wholesale order to work on for The Fernie Brae, an art gallery and gift shop in Portland, Oregon. This will be my second large order for the owner of this shop. I'm really pleased to be working with her, knowing my critters were highly admired there by customers. I'm currently working on some tiny Valentine otters for that. If you care to see what I make, click: my shop.

Anyway, I still don't have all the answers, or know exactly where my life is heading, but who does? I'm trying to be hopeful, though. And trying to eat depression-fighting foods and drink water and consume less caffeine. Look out, world ...

Maybe It's Time To Move

A couple of months ago, I tripped over some rotten log of grief and I have been essentially lying on the cold, damp ground ever since. It's different down here. If you lie flat on your face, you can't see anything, and sometimes that's a comfort. Not looking around means not seeing anything scary. And there are a lot of scary things that I don't want to see right now.

You might not think it, but there's plenty to do down here. With your face planted flat in the ground, a person can  get to thinking about how it feels to not feel and what it looks like to not see. What things sound like from lower down and what the ground smells like. Thoughts that are, for the most part, unimportant, but that seem earth shattering at the time because you have spent so much time and energy on them. And then you can get thinking about how those thoughts aren't important, and how horrible it is that no on but you knows this or cares. 

Sometimes this leads nowhere. Other times, it prompts me to roll over on my side to catch a glimpse of brown leaves and dead grass out of the corner of one eye, and straight ahead maybe I'll see tree solid tree trunks, tramping feet, spinning car tires. Nothing incredible, but still signs of life beyond my pallet of dead leaves, proving that, maybe eventually, I could get up and walk again. You know, if I felt like it.

And if I'm particularly brave, some days this might prompt me to roll over on my back and look up at the sky. Looking at the sky is frightening when you're lying on your back barely able to move. You can see so much light, movement, and life, and it's all up and out there shining and flying and breathing without you, and it never goes away, even when you roll over and plant your face in the leaves again. It's still there, happening without you. And that can make you question whether you really need to be at all.

Probably the worst part about depression for me is that, when it's happening, I generally have no idea why I'm suffering. Often, what little energy I have to think is wasted trying to find a reason for what I'm feeling. This leads to my head reeling with confusing and conflicting thoughts, and gets me nowhere. But most of this time I haven't wanted to to get anywhere. Beyond the rolling over, I haven't had any motivation to move. Life goals, work, hobbies, even silly distractions don't really seem important when my heart is full of grief and empty of life. Maybe that's why I choose to go down those pointless thought paths so often.

However, lately I have noticed that I've been lying on the ground for a long time. And as easy as it is, as comfortable as it is, to stay where I am, it's also exhausting. All the thoughts and not-thoughts, the bottling it up and uncapping it again, afraid one minute and comforted the next--I'm tired.

 I can't say that I have reached a logical conclusion to this bout of depression, or that I've thoroughly healed from whatever injuries were inflicted when I tripped and fell. I've been through a lot; more than I knew when I came home, and probably still more than I know now. I may yet have a long way to go yet before I feel whole again. But there is something to be said for not staying in one place too long. So, maybe it's time to move. Time to start walking again. You know, as Churchill supposedly said, "If you're going through hell, keep going." Even if hell is familiar, it's still hell, right? Or, if you prefer, since Ingrid Michaelson is streaming in my ears right now, "I think I'm ready to fight."

The good news is, as scary as it is to sit up, and then stand up, and then put one foot in front of the other, only to follow a poorly drawn map that I drew myself, a long time ago when I still felt like daydreaming, leading to some distant place that I made up and that I can only hope truly exists, I do have one thing that I am sure of. One thing that never changes, even when my head and heart are so jumbled that I don't even recognize myself.

That one good, steady, beautifully true thing is this: I have people who love me. You are the ones I couldn't do without. You are the ones who make me want to move. Without you, I would probably lie on the ground forever.