Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Says More

I am sorry to say that one of my less endearing traits is a lack of patience with people whom I sense are "weak". This is an illusion...most people, including myself, are a combination of weak and strong. I feel I was not being fair to the person in question in my last post...sure, it's true I was not often complimented, but he did really try.
There are always reasons behind the ways we are, or are not. Often when I am angry or sad, I am not fair in my assessments of people.

I am going to turn now to my sewing (working on my costume headpiece), but just wanted to elaborate a bit.

Monday, July 21, 2014


Looking upon the magnificent-hearted brother of the person in question as he wished his wife a happy birthday (his wife is a wonderful woman and a great parent, as is he), I reflected upon how the person in question never complimented me, never made an effort to know me, made fun of my writing and pretty much the entire body of English literature, would announce to a group of strangers writing with us for nanowrimo that my daughter was in jail (which is true, but still...she is doing much better now, though she still has a long way to go)....well, you have to wonder why two brothers out of three would get all the kindness, effectiveness, humor, patience, and stability, like there was not enough to go around or something. I really did ask for a few compliments, support with my writing, etc--I tried not to be demanding or ask what he could not give...but really, there was nothing, though plenty of criticism.

I AM glad the person in questions's family loves him...he has his good points too. Still, I am left wondering why the gene for respecting women really didn't go all the way around. Maybe it is there--I think I saw it sometimes--but it is not enough to just show love and respect at the beginning....

In other news, Thistle and I had to hike through the woods today, as our road was blocked by people from the water company repairing a broken pipe...water is even more important in a drought, and now we have lost more.

Sunday, July 20, 2014


I have been inspired by mending to pull out some of my unfinished cross stitch pieces (kitschy as they are, from the French geese-and-slate blue color schemes of the 90s). It is relaxing and nice to get a simple project done.

The singing group met tonight....unfortunately with two new songs that I really disliked from the infamous Thursday night class. Now I get to sing them all the time!! Pretty funny...at least my teacher put a folkish spin on them.
One of them has such awful lyrics and it was always funny to watch the class singing the song like it was such a masterpiece.

Well, when I am on hiatus from my Shekinah dance group's classes, I will be back on Thursday night's to sing that song, too.

Saturday, July 19, 2014


I don't know if I have told my audience that I was the one who actually ended things with the person in question, with enormous pain and even regret. There was probably no other choice at all, and one has to err on the side of living with one's choices even if one wishes things could be different or one would have done things much differently today. I wish I had reached out in kindness and asked what on earth was going on instead of erupting and ending everything with one fell swoop. But it was also a matter of "Okay, you want this? Here you go," because I categorically would not be treated in that way, by anyone.

I wish I had not let my temper get the best of me--sure, I was newly on bipolar meds, newly on chemo, had given up my job a couple of weeks before because I was too ill to work anymore, was frightened of chemo side effects and whether I would live or not through it...and then world I thought I lived in, crashed in on me. I suppose a furious temper would be understandable, but truly it is not acceptable. I certainly learned a lesson, and absolutely learned never to do that again...or at least save my anger for the world's injustices. Had I not been trying to adjust to bipolar meds (which take several weeks to kick in), or if we had done what needed to be done in person, I would not have given my friend such a drubbing via email. It is easy to be mean in an email (I used to get such missives from the person in question fairly regularly, though they tried very hard not to do so--we were both responsible for this sort of thing).

In retrospect, I should have asked for at least four to six sessions of counseling beforehand, too, which might have helped on some level, though what level is never to be known. And I believe now that it is just as painful to leave as to be left. Would I ever go back if they were willing, or maintain a friendship? I don't know, and that too is right now a fully unanswerable question. There are times life brings people together again on some level or other.

In other news, I went to my former mother-in-law's 91st birthday and Thistle has a wonderful time with her cousins, great aunt and great uncle, and her uncle and aunt also. It was fun, I had some great vanilla ice cream with blackberry sauce, and spent some time with my daughter and son. I do miss them very much and hope to see them in the future a bit more.

Well, so much for today. I am in the middle of making dinner for Thistle and me, and them am on to mending my beautiful green-and-maroon sari skirt, which has several rents in the underskirt (it is silk and some of it is beginning to shatter).

Thank you for visiting. I hope my processing of grief is of help to someone out there.

Mending Hours

Really, I am not fixated on grief. It takes sometimes up to a couple of years to really have life accommodate a grief, fully.

I am grateful today for getting to some much needed mending, and I am grateful to have been patient with Thistle today as she spent at least an hour crying.

It was a day that included both grief and mending.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Did Not Get to Go

I did not get to see my son play a gig at one of the many local concert venues, because a mutual relative, angry over something to do with Thistle's adoption, is there and I am afraid would cause trouble. It probably seems there are dozens of people in my life like thus, but there are only two, and one is someone I simply do not want to bother.

I feel sad about all of this. There is really no more to say.

Speaking of which, a dream of the person in question: sitting at a desk opposite me, writing by hand, looking up at me from time to time.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Sword Roll

My dance troupe is getting ready for Desert Dance Festival in September. One dance I am doing...or, rather, we are doing, is our sword dance. It is great fun and involves me rolling on my stomach over to my back, then over to my stomach again, all while lying down on the floor and balancing one huge, heavy mother of a sword on my head.

As I write this, sadness: no friendly face in the crowd, the one I always sought out and smiled at.

And still, I dance.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Home Study Approved.

I suppose I have one great, big, bright, beautiful thing to be grateful for today. I met with the adoption agency people today and they told me my home study was approved. Adoption Day will be in September. I never have to send Thistle away. I can raise her and give her a life full of love.

Overwhelmed with joy.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Ordinary Day

I was grateful for a quiet, calm day...went to my dentist to get a crown replaced; had a good cup of coffee; picked up Thistle from preschool and had snack with Thistle and the kids there. They told me about their dreams, but of course each one upped the ante: one said she dreamed of unicorns with tattoos; the next one dreamed said she dreamed of unicorns with diamonds and flowers on it.

One recovery tool I will be using in this blog often is a short gratitude list. This is one of the best writing tools I know for helping to get a more positive attitude. Sometimes mine are very simple.

Gratitude List:

1) I woke virtually pain free this morning.
2) My hair loss is slowing down.
3) Thistle is safe and thriving.
4) I have all my basic needs: clean water, good food, etc.
5) My financial situation is better and some needed repairs on my home are getting done.
6) My health all around has gotten better.
7) I am dancing, still

Seven things!

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Exhausted, Happy

Thistle and I had a nice day, with a picnic at a park and then a lot of play.  I'm tired now. Very!

I have decided since yesterday that I am going to go work and write at my "second favorite" coffee shop (Coffee Cat) whenever I want.  I am sick of avoiding places.  This is not how I live.  I won't bother anybody, but I really shouldn't have to fear anywhere in terms of the place I have lived for 30-plus years.

At any rate, it was a good day, except that I lost my entire set of keys.  It did not really bother me.  All the keys can be replaced (though my work and PO box keys will cost).  These minor things do not freak me out anymore--prior to proper treatment for BP2, they unfortunately really would have.

Good night, all, and have sweet dreams!

To Work?

I am a firm believer in work.  I loved my job teaching at the university level, despite all its paperwork (I have been really bothered by people who say I don't work 40 hours a week--that's true--when I am teaching, it's more like 50!  LOL, not really, but teaching is a grueling job).

I have been recovering from illness since November--9 months of chemotherapy and bipolar 2 meds.  The recovery from bipolar is a miracle.  It has returned me to what I was before my breakdown in 2011...or more likely, gathered up all the strengths then and combined them with the strengths now.  There is no shame, I think, in needing antidepressants or meds to treat the brain when it gets ill.  I do think we are an overmedicated society, but a good psychiatrist will not overmedicate.  It does take years sometimes to diagnose bipolar disorder, and I feel glad that it has happened for me, as I can see where it may have really affected my life over the years.  Far from being the sort of sad, confused person I was on Prozac, my bipolar meds have helped me regain my creativity, happiness, and belief in the good things about life--even in the face of enormous grief, I have still managed to do many good things and be a good parent to Thistle in these seven difficult months.

Now I am considering whether to return to work, and, given that I am still very much recovering, I may have to take either a leave of absence for one more semester (leaving me with nearly two years of work off, on a three-year contract), or retire.

I do not know what I am going to decide.  It seems so wonderful to think of a life where I can really devote time to Thistle every night instead of tackling a pile of papers, do what I wish when she is in school instead of sweating things out in the classroom, especially when I am concerned about making some politically incorrect statement or offending someone, teaching grammar when I really, really suck at it, have time to dance and work on writing--it sounds so lovely and tempting.

The above may have to be what I ultimately decide.  It is very hard to release a job that was a triumph for me, and students I absolutely love.  However, I have one little student who is 100 percent my responsibility (Thistle).  I need to stay alive until she grows up and can take care of herself.  I am charged with helping her grow and learn--and remember, she has no television here and nothing to numb her out; I really have to interact with her all the time.  Plus, there will be oodles of children to teach if I happen to become a---GASP--a "room mom".

It looks like I am leaning on the side of one more year off, just because I can, and then see.  It's a healthy thing not to just bail and run.


Saturday, July 12, 2014

Note About Proxy Servers

Please note that if you create a proxy server to read this blog "anonymously", my tracking counter somehow overrides it.  You need to be either less or more covert.  Thank you.

I Wake

I wake feeling better, without the crush of grief, even though I dreamed of the person in question, as a spirit, all in white, with transparent white skin and hair.  Perhaps the angels of our better nature visit each other in sleep, no matter how great the rift.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), wanting an iced coffee before going home today after bodywork (yes, sounds like a privilege, and I suppose it is except for the good it does for my physical and emotional health), I unfortunately saw the person in question's car (I saw a make and color of car that he has, but it's probably the most common car around ).  I did not even register that it was his car until I nearly drove past it (there were spaces at the end of the row which I was heading for), and so I left without stopping and went to another place.  There is no way I am going to disturb that person until such time as they want to interact with me and my presence is NOT a disturbance.  People have a right to do whatever they like and I have no wish to intrude--even though I would have loved to have seen and talked with them, it really is not my right until the other person wants it, too--heartbroken as I am over it, I have to accept that they may never, ever wish to talk to me again, but heartbroken or not, I still have to accept what is. There is a saying in Al-Anon that I really love: "I will accept what is and not try to adjust everthing to my own desires".

Still--odd coincidence.

I used to hate when I was with S. ( a long ago ex) and his ex-girlfriend would stalk him--it was so frickin weird.  She would see his car when we were having coffee and just pop in, hug him, hang all over him, and show up at his house unannounced. Once, she came in at dinnertime and sat right down and had a meal with us.  It really was extremely undignified for someone I got to know as a very, VERY nice woman--I mean, I had no choice but to know her since she joined us for dinner and coffee and pizza a lot--and yet she still felt she had a right to pop in unannounced.  My ex was very passive and never seemed to want to do a thing about it.  I never had a problem socializing with her, but wow...talk about not letting go!!  I mean, I'm sad as all-f**k at least half the time as things move on, but not willing to act like some vulture sitting around.

Well, it is time for my dance class now--we  are having a workshop and doing some of the prop work--so today I will roll around on the ground, balancing my sword on my head.  I have to remember I am strong.