I have a tendency to dream of running away. Like if I packed up my dogs and husband and started somewhere else I would magically not be in debt, sad, fight depression daily and I would suddenly love the person in the mirror instead of dreaming I was someone else.

In my mind I would be this really chic plus size lady, with my edge being my cool hair and tattoos, Who lets the worlds problems roll off her back like water and who can smile when someone shits on her day. I would have a beautifully organized home preferably a tiny house, that was comfortable and eclectic. I would take walks with my husband in the evenings and each of us would have a content dog on a leash who is just enjoying the world they live in. I would cook simple, beautiful, healthy meals and be satisfied at the end of each of them. I would not cry over things I cannot control, or fictional characters that die in books, movies and TV shows. I would not take it so personally when people get irritated at situations. I would find the magic in a each day.

But no matter where I run, I can not escape me.

Happy Friday

Today dawned and I smiled. It seems like a small thing but honestly when you have been low it is a great gift to open  your eyes and know that things are turning around. Unfortunately my poor husband has been sick for the last 3 days and after the 100’th nag he went to the doctor today. It’s viral and he has to wait it out, but luckily I will be home this weekend to take care of him, and my house, and puppies. I haven’t been home on a weekend in like 6 weeks, which is a long time to not scrub my shower walls. But tonight and tomorrow and Sunday I am going to tackle projects slowly and with purpose. I lay my head on my pillow Sunday with a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. Or maybe I will order take out and watch the Stars Wars series from start to finish….maybe a little of both.

Happy Weekend to you all… and here’s to hoping Monday blooms brightly.


Today they buried my Grandmothers ashes. I couldn’t be there. So at 11am I walked outside and sat on the loading dock at work. The wind blew, and I teared up think of part of my family standing around the plot while a friend read a prayer. I looked up at the gray sky, and the tops of the trees as they whipped and whirled, and sitting on a branch was a bright red cardinal. It sat for a moment and then flew away. Cardinals were my Grandma’s favorite bird. I think she was telling me it was okay that I missed it and that she heard my whispered I love you.

Its been awhile


I keep returning to this page hoping to be able to tell a different story. I wish I could say that the past few months have been good but that would be a lie. I continue to see a psychiatrist to monitor and adjust my meds, I see my therapist to help with tools and release, but I am not much better than I was. The cautious optimism I mentioned previously was warranted as my body quickly adjusted to the new meds and my lack of proper chemicals flipped the middle finger at my attempts and continued to pull at my heels trying to drag me back to the dark. I can honestly say I have no real short term memory right now so I feel completely disconnected from those I love. Not sure if this was a conscience choice or a situational response to the way I am feeling. I keep pushing forward, making plans and trying to keep them. We are going on our annual Memorial Day camping trip tonight and I am repeating the phrase “this will be fun” in my head trying to get in the right mind space.  I will try to smile and enjoy my time but I fear Sunday when my world snaps back into reality and I have to start dealing again.

I truly didn’t want to come back here and write about this. I was hoping to be able to come back and write funny posts about the great things that are happening in my life. Don’t get me wrong, nothing tragic is currently happening, and I think that is what is so frustrating about having chronic depression, you know that objectivly your life is good, food on the table, roof over your head, money in your pocket, supportive family and friends. It sounds so good, on paper and out loud, but my brain doesn’t precieve joy and contentment the way other peoples brains do. Its hard to know you have been betrayed by your body in more ways then one. It is not just aging that robs you of things, mental health, infertility, all of these things should be a given. I should be a “normal” woman, with the ability to have babies, to smile at wonderful things and to lay my head on my pillow at night and only worry about tomorrow, or whatever it is normal people worry about. My body has betrayed me, and I am trying to take care, to work with what I have but damn it I am tired.   I bet you are too my dear readers, tired of always reading the debby downer stuff I post.

I think my goal has been to offer support to others out there who are going through something similar. To hopefully have one person read this and know they can get help and be happier. I wish that for others and myself.

Maybe I will stick to some fictional posts for awhile, a little poetry or short story to break it up a little. Or maybe I will just avoid writing again for awhile.

We shall see.

just a brief thought

There was a time, back in my history where I made friends with brilliant young poets and writers. They wrote things that intrigued me, warmed me, made me uncomfortable and made me crave more. They wrote beautiful notes and I identified with them in ways I can never describe fully, because I am too old and because the feelings were for a magical age that is long past. One of these writers happened to be my first boyfriend at 13 years old, and by the time he was 15 he was writing things that were so deep and wonderful I craved more. He was shy with his works, but when he shared it was with a select few of us. We would sit in dark coffee houses, drinking darker coffee and talking in terms of eternity. I miss that time, but mostly I miss his words. Now here’s the crazy thing, I have been thinking about his writing a lot lately. I have contemplated messaging him and telling him how his words have impacted my life, and yesterday on Facebook he announced he had launched a blog featuring his poetry. I won’t share it here, because A) I didn’t ask permission & B) I am slightly selfish and don’t want to share it until I have gotten to read through it.

What is the point you may be asking? The point is that his bravery and beauty have reminded me to write no matter what. It helps that my Mom ( one of my biggest supporters) posted a message to me here yesterday encouraging me to write as well. Any way, I just want to give an anonymous shout out to you magical writers out there, keep filling the world with your wonder and bravery and I will do my best as well.

And you my dear old friend, thank you for sharing your gift again. I can still hear your voice reading aloud to us in those dark rooms, in big couches, leaning against your shoulder as your musical lyrical words floated toward us.

checking in…

I had grand intentions a month ago to chronicle my new experiences with medication and a new psychiatrist. But the reality of it all was I felt so good I forgot to do it. Which is a good thing. I am cautiously optimistic ( one of my favorite phrases) that I am getting better. I have been on my new regimen for about a month and go back for a med check next week, and I do feel better. I am less sensitive, better able to multitask and enjoying the moment more. Side effects, I am a lot more tired and prone to napping. I am more self concerned, which is better then selfish or self centered, it is simply I am trying not to make myself do something I don’t want to do. Negative side effects, my creative drive is down so I need to take time to write and create, which I haven’t done in the last month or so. But I am aware of it and admitting you have a problem is the first step, or something. I am getting a tattoo soon, something I have been thinking about for a long time and something to remind myself that I am capable of finding my way when I am lost. It’s empowering, and wonderful.

So this is me, just checking in, hopefully with more purpose in the future and a clearing mind to write more interesting and enlightening posts.

Thanks for sticking with me if you still are…stay tuned….

another random jumble

There is a lot to be said after a week or so away.

First and foremost a huge shout out of thanks for the help to my Momma. She came over this weekend and helped to kick my ass into gear with some seriously deep cleaning in the common areas of my home. She also took a huge amount of laundry away and brought it back all perfectly folded, sweet smelling and ready for me to tackle my next project, the dreaded closet/dresser. But for now my home is on the right track to being clean and thankfully I have a Mom who knows exactly how to take weight off my shoulders. Thanks Momma. And a thanks to my wonderful roommate/sister in law for diving in with us and doing the work too. It was a rewarding day, topped off with amazing salad brought to us by Momma’s best friend who stayed to clean for a bit too. Thanks Miz L, you are amazing.

Second thing, I am feeling better. Its a definitive statement, however tentative because I have felt better in the past. But I can say with a certain measure of cautious optimism  that I am on the right road. I am sure I need a little tweaking but I think we are on the correct path. The voice in my head has only been saying things that I want to write down, but no amount of wishing will recreate the words she whispers as I am falling asleep. But I can tell you they are kind of wonderful, ideas of stories or narratives that I really need to document. Just not today.

I had a dream last night that my Momma and Sister A went on a trip to Alabama, and we got separated. It wasn’t a good dream, and I know where it came from. And long story short it’s nice to know that my brain is not conjuring these weird scenarios right now. It was pretty straight forward and I didn’t have to obsess over it.

By the way The Fault in Our Stars was amazing, I read it but watched it yesterday and I have to say it was the worst way to cry. But it was good, which is totally off subject but I wanted to share that little nugget of info.

To summarize, I am feeling better, I am getting re-motivated, getting ready to tackle a new and exciting project that I will announce in the coming months. So I think it was a good thing to go to the psychiatrist, to sit and get a new diagnosis and treatment plan and fingers crossed we’ve seen the worst of this beast and I can focus on wellness instead of depression.