Tuesday 1/16/24 No More School!

 School is done!! I ended up with a 95% in the class because I kind of bombed the final (got a 72% on that - every question had 2 right answers and I had to pick which one was most right, ugh). But hey - a 95% is damn good for struggling as much as I did, doubting myself as much as I did, and it being my first class in over 17 years. Go me! It's so nice to be done. Like, really nice. 

Anyway, I had therapy today and we're going to start working on my self esteem. Cause I kinda don't like myself all that much. I mean, I do, at times, but I'm really insecure, especially with how I look. Let's be honest - I could stand to lose some weight. Not just for looks - for health. On that thread, I'm starting working out again. And it's made me realize just how out of shape I am. I mean, wow. So I've got that to work on. And Becky gave me homework for our next session - to paint how I feel about myself. I have some ideas floating around . . . we'll see what I come up with. 

So yeah, that's about it. Another short post. That's okay. Maybe next week I'll have more to say. 

Monday 7/31/23 Oy Vey

 I slept like crap last night. I think I was awake more than I was asleep. And it shows. I'm super fucking cranky today and have no motivation for anything. I managed to work out and shower. Go me. I have my mammogram at 12:45 so of course I don't want to do anything until I have to leave. I have time to do stuff - I just don't want to. I have enough time to do a painting or draw or clean something . . . but instead I'm sitting here on the couch bitching. I hate feeling this way.

Last week I saw the functional medicine practitioner and had a metric fuck-ton of bloodwork drawn. Like, it was a LOT of blood drawn. When they get the results (which can take 5-10 days), he'll contact me to set up an appointment to go over it all. I'm really hoping my blood work corroborates what I'm feeling. That I get answers and solutions. For now it's a waiting game. Which, today, annoys me. 

What also annoys me, since today seems to be a bitch fest, is my bladder. Well, my whole body, really. My body doesn't seem to want to utilize the water I give it for cellular functioning. No. Instead I almost immediately pee out everything I put in. I've had a bottle and a half of water this morning and I've peed 7 times. Seven times in the last 2 hours, mind you. And I have to go again. WTF body?? You need that water!! You're telling me I'm horribly thirsty but when I drink anything, out it comes! Seriously. What the hell. And this happens all the time. Every day. To the point where I don't want to drink anything because I'm sick of how often I have to pee. Makes me worry that I'm developing diabetes or kidney disease. Because frequent urination is a symptom of both.

In other news, my mood has been sinking a little. The past 2 weeks I've been down more than not. And, yes, that annoys me. What I should do is have a ketamine infusion before I get worse. But I don't want to do that. Why? The cost. I just spent nearly $500 for my bloodwork, I don't want to spend another $300 on myself for the infusion. Which my therapist thinks is stupid. That I should schedule an infusion every 2 months or so to keep me in tip top shape. Which, yes, preventative measures make sense, but I feel selfish and like a failure if I do this. Plus the financial burden. Yes, we can afford it. But I don't want to have to have it. Maybe it's stubborn pride. I don't know. It's just that we've spent so much money on my mental health and I hate that. I feel guilty because of it. Which, in turn, makes me feel shittier. If this was for Jeremy or Ayden I'd spend the money in a heart beat. But when it comes to myself . . . I can't bring myself to do it. Like I don't deserve it. 

Anyway. I guess that's enough bitching. Here. Here's a little snow fox I painted:

I like how it turned out. And that's good, especially with how I feel today.

Monday 7/24/23 Well, it's a Monday

 It's Monday. How . . . wonderful. I've been super cranky today for no real reason. I woke up this way. Cranky with no motivation. I forced myself to workout, go me. I have 4 drawings that I'm working on that need to be painted . . . that didn't get done today. Nope. I worked out, went to the store, listened to a podcast, had lunch, took a nap. And now I'm here, writing a bunch of BS while drinking matcha. Oy. 

I have a "consultation" on Wednesday. Basically a doctor's visit. Because I have almost every hypothyroid symptom one can have but my actual doctor keeps brushing me off because my thyroid levels are in the "normal" range. So I'm seeing a functional medicine doc to go over my history and symptoms and get their opinion. I'm tired of being cold. I'm tired of losing so much hair. I'm tired of dry skin and not being to lose weight no matter how little or how much I eat. I'm tired of feeling like I need a nap to get through the day (or tons of caffeine). So yeah. I have a consult on Wednesday. We'll se how that goes. It's an hour long and I have a ton of paperwork to fill out. But maybe they'll have answers for me. 

In other news, my mood has been slightly better overall? Maybe? On my days off I'm okay. Friday at work I was surprisingly okay (which was good because I had a VERY difficult patient who required tons of attention and "love"). Yesterday I was less okay, but not bad. I work tomorrow and I'm not really looking forward to it. Makes me realize I'm truly burnt out. I don't really enjoy my job most days and that sucks. 

Wow. I don't really have more I want to write. Mainly because I'm in such a negative headspace right now. So instead I'll share some paintings from my Growth series. 

 First up is Red Fox. With an aspen tree -  2 of my favorite things.

Next we have Fawn.

And last, Mountain Bluebird. 

These are the first 3 paintings in the series. I have 2 more sketched out (that I should have painted today, but didn't). I'm not really sure where I'm going with this series but I have a tiny bit of inspiration so I'm running with it. 

Tuesday 2/28/23 Almost March

 Tomorrow is March y'all. That's crazy. My son will be 16 on the 8th - which is also crazy. Time flies . . .

I feel like I need to write. I always feel like I need to write when I'm feeling crappy. Somehow, writing helps, even if only a tiny bit. I've just been consistently not doing good. I'm still down. Hell, let's call it what it is - depressed. I've been depressed. I'm having a hard time accomplishing anything other than basic tasks. I shower, I eat, I do laundry. I go to work and struggle to get by. I have no motivation or drive for anything. I'm having a hard time concentrating enough again to even read. I hate this. I don't know what to do. I'm seeing my new therapist every other week, taking my meds like a good girl, trying to exercise at least twice a week, trying to eat better, trying to stay positive (which is all fake and extremely difficult to do), and trying to socialize with people while at work and not be a complete downer. 

But I am a complete downer. I'm not any fun to be around right now. My mood is low. I'm sluggish. I'm not connecting with people. I'm struggling. I'm so burnt out at work. I dread going. And I don't know what to do about that. I've been in the birth center for almost 14 years and I've always loved my job. But now . . . I'm burnt out. I don't want to go. But I'm not sure I can leave (well, right now I can't leave as I had signed a 2 year contract for a bonus). And if I left, what would I do? Where would I go? I have a feeling that no matter what I do I'll be miserable because in general right now I'm miserable. So what would be the point? I might as well stay where I know my job and the people I work with. I don't know if I dread work because I'm depressed in general or if work is a major contributor to feeling depressed. Maybe it's both. Who knows. The only other area of nursing I'm interested in is psych and everyone agrees that that's probably a bad idea for me. And inpatient psych . . . yeah. Probably wouldn't be rewarding. It's treat the crisis and ship them out. And people in crisis can be nasty to others. How would dealing with that make me feel?

Ugh.

So I have no clue as to what to do. I can have another ketamine infusion in March if I want (boosters are once a month). I felt amazing after my last one but that feeling quickly faded. So I'm worried the same thing will happen again. Maybe I should go anyway. I don't know. I feel lost and sad and a little scared. And I'm so freaking tired of feeling this way. Why can't I have some toned down, euphoric hypomania? Just a little bit. Just for a little while. Is that too much to ask?

I did a painting titled "Emerge". It's kind of, trying to emerge from the darkness that is depression. Except instead of a person I drew a fox. I mean, why not?

Here it is. I like it, I guess. It came out how I envisioned it, so that's good. The problem, though, is that I'm not emerging from the darkness. I'm enveloped in it. I'm stuck. And I hate that.

Thursday 2/2/23 When the Feels Are Too Much

 

This is how I feel sometimes. Like I need to scream it out. My feelings get overwhelming and need to be released. 

Not today though. Today I'm apathetic. Today I just don't give two shits about anything. Today I don't care. I don't like feeling like this, like I don't care. I'd rather feel my feelings, I think. Even when they can be overwhelming, at least I'm feeling. 

This past week has been rough at times. Not all the time; but at times. I did a painting, "Growth Through Grief" (here, I'll share it with you)

And I thought to myself how much Mike would appreciate this painting. And I started crying, because he'll never see it and that crushed me. And that's the thing. That's how grief is. You can be doing fine and then BAM! It hits you out of nowhere and you're feeling it all over again. I've had moments this past week where I've been fine - a little down or meh, but otherwise fine. And I've had moments where I've not been fine. Where I've been close to tears or crying. And then I've had some moments like today where I feel nothing. Where I'm completely apathetic. I'm getting the whole gamut I guess.

I'm seeing my new therapist next Thursday. I had emailed her, asking for times a month out, and all I got was next Thursday at 10am. Maybe she just wants to see me, make sure I'm okay since losing Mike was hard and all. I don't know. I guess I'll find out. She seemed nice when I met her last week and I'm going to do my best to keep an open mind. Because, as Jeremy says, no one will ever be Mike. But maybe this will be good for me. A fresh set of eyes. Time will tell. 

I've come to realize that I'm utterly burnt out from work. Work has been . . . work. I've not been enjoying myself and every day I work I don't want to go. I almost dread it. I know a lot of people are burnt out. Last month was slower and this month will probably be slower, which means we work even harder because our grid sucks. We get more patients and have to do the CNA work on top of it (oh, and phlebotomy too, because God forbid the hospital keep phlebotomists on hand). And it's not better anywhere else, so leaving would be pointless (not to mention signing the 2 year contract for a bonus). I don't know how to make things better. I don't know how to make me better. I'm hoping that going to Japan - a nice long vacation - will help. But I don't know if it will. Maybe I'm ready for a change. I don't know. The only other area I'm interested in is psych. And everyone thinks that's a bad idea for me to pursue. I'll just keep plugging along I guess, hoping things will get better. 

Tuesday 1/17/23 The Dichotomy of Me

 The dichotomy of me. It's the title of a painting I did today. I haven't been painting, well, hardly at all as of late. But today I did two paintings, both personal. 

The Dichotomy of Me:

It's a reflection on bipolar disorder, I guess. I tend to hang on the side of depression more than anything (my mania is well controlled with antipsychotics). I've been feeling rather low for the past month or so. Getting progressively worse as the days go by. So I decided to bite the bullet and make an appointment for a booster ketamine infusion. I have it next Wednesday morning. I was hoping to go longer before needing an infusion, but I guess three months is respectable. I'm trying not to let myself feel like a failure for needing a booster, which is where my mind naturally goes. I naturally tend toward the negative. I'm actively working to change this. It's hard. I have to constantly be aware of my thoughts and counter them. It takes quite a bit of energy, but I'm trying. 

There really isn't anything much else going on. I'm trying to work out consistently, it's going okay. I'm trying not to nap all the time, which is what I want to do, because then I don't have to deal with how I'm feeling. I'm trying to come up with ideas for art - that's slow going. And I'm trying to remain positive. All of these are difficult things. But I'm plugging along, as best as I can. 

The other painting I did today is "There Will Be Signs":

There are signs to my declining mental health, and I'm too stubborn or too proud to admit that they're there. Until to day. Because I made the appointment for an infusion. I'm finally admitting to myself that I probably need a little help getting back to where I want to be. I'll get there. Eventually.

Tuesday 11/8/22 Some Art

 I'm sitting here on the couch, not quite sure what to do with myself. I don't know how I want to fill my time today. Yesterday I painted quite a bit, uploaded a TON of paintings to my Etsy shop . . . today I'm just not feeling it. I'm not necessarily down, but I'm not great either. I'm meh. Blah. Indifferent. I don't like feeling like this. I'm as of yet undecided on whether I'll keep my ketamine booster appointment. I mean, I'm not depressed, just meh or down. I'm not sure that really qualifies me as needing the booster. I don't know. I'll give it another week and we'll see. 

Anyway, I've been painting quite a bit. Figured I'd share a few of them here.

This first one I titled "Anemone". Mostly just playing with color and shapes.

This second one is just swirls of color, kind of like what I would see during an infusion.

Cherry blossoms. I love cherry blossoms. 

Some daisies. 

This one is "Nautilus". Swirls of shapes and blues that I would see during an infusion.

This last one is "Sink". Some infusions I felt like I was floating. Others like I was sinking in sand or something. Always so much blue though. Blue was the predominant color I would see. Some purples and oranges and greens here and there, but mostly blues. 

There's quite a few more, plus all the dragon paintings (well, 4 dragon paintings). I've been busy. But I don't know if I want to paint today. We'll see. I don't know what I want to do today.
 

Wednesday 11/2/22 It's November, Y'all

 Wow. It's November already. That seems crazy to me. Time seems to be flying by. And it's been, what, 10 days since I last posted? Something like that. 

So I've finished my 6 initial treatments of ketamine, my last treatment being a week ago Monday. My last 2 infusions were intense, as Dr. Jeff used the max dose for my weight. Felt like I was lost inside my brain and wasn't going to be able to come down. Had to ground myself numerous times, remind myself that I was not lost, I was, indeed, in a cushy recliner and safe. They weren't scary or anxiety inducing, just intense. I have a booster scheduled for Nov. 22nd, if I need it. If not, I cancel. I'm really hoping I don't need it, buuuuut . . . .

. . . . I've been starting to feel a little down again. Having periods where I feel meh, then do okay, then feel down. Or I just feel meh or down. Now, I know I'm not going to feel happy all of the time. I'm going to experience a full range of emotions and that's okay - even the "bad" ones. But I definitely don't like it, feeling meh or down. It makes me worry that I'm going to be stuck needing boosters every month to feel normal, to feel okay. That scares me, to be honest. I just want to be stable and okay, not meh and down. I keep telling myself that it's okay if I need boosters - it's just like needing to take my medications. But I feel like this is different. Like I've failed somehow if I need continued boosters. I'm working on stopping this negative spiral of thinking because it's not going to do me any good. But also, the infusions are expensive - $275 each - and I don't want that to be an added expense, especially since we're still saving for our Japan trip. Ugh.

Today I was supposed to work but I was put on "standby" (meaning I can get called in at any time). I'm glad I'm not at work. I'm feeling down this morning and I don't want to be around people (everyone thinks I'm better, I'm "cured" of my depression, and I don't want to show them otherwise, let them down somehow - it's stupid that this is how my mind works). My bestie says I'm feeling this way because my brain IS stupid and doesn't know how to feel normal. Which could very much be true. At any rate, I'm down this morning and I just want to go back to sleep. 

I have therapy tomorrow and I think this session will truly be my last one with Mike. Which is a real bummer. If I'm feeling okay I think I can handle that. If I'm feeling like I am right now . . . not so much. Him retiring is a loss I'm going to have to grieve. And in this state I'm not sure I can handle that. Not that I have any choice in the matter.

Let's move on. Artwork wise I've been trying to capture what I've seen during my infusions. Most notably dragons and cherry blossoms. I've done several paintings, none of them quite up to snuff. I like the dragons I've drawn and am considering getting one of them tattooed on me. We'll see. I'll give it some time to mull over before I make a final decision. I've been trying to paint waves and have discovered that I just don't have the skill to adequately do so. Which is disappointing. But I'll keep trying. 

I really hope I don't get called in today. Fingers crossed.

Friday 9/9/22 Well, I painted a little

 Look at that - another week has gone by. There's nothing special going on, nothing new, really. I do, however, feel more depressed than last week. I'm getting worse. I'm crying more. I'm angry more. I just feel worse. And I'm getting brain zaps again (probably because the Lexapro is completely out of my system). It's not fun. This week has not been fun. 

I'm painting though. I'm painting mostly scenery pictures, pretty things. I'm trying to paint non-depressing things basically, in hopes that it helps my mental health.

It hasn't.

Well, I guess it does for a very short period of time when I'm actually painting. It distracts me from how I'm feeling for a little bit. So that's a win I suppose. 

Today I painted 24 bookmarks. Took me about 3 hours. I like them. 

Next Thursday I have therapy with Mike. I think it's my last session with him. I'm not looking forward to it. Especially with how much I'm crying at stupid stuff - I'll probably lose my shit when I have to say goodbye. It's going to be hard. 

And next Friday I have a consult for my next tattoo - a daffodil on my left forearm (and also a very thin wedding band on my ring finger). I'm looking forward to that at least. Something to keep me going. 

I don't feel like writing more. I feel like crap. That is all. 

Monday 6/20/22 Drowning

 I'm not really sure what I want to write about today. I'm feeling pretty down. I had all of the intentions of sleeping in today but was up at 6am (I actually woke up at 4am and laid in bed for two hours, trying to fall back asleep). I had an idea for a drawing so after breakfast I took my coffee downstairs with me to my studio and got to it. I spent 3 hours on it, between sketching and inking it. Then I took the dog on a short walk, showered, started laundry, and had lunch. And now, now I'm writing. I'm trying to keep myself busy so I don't have to deal with how I'm feeling. 

I'm at the "go-to-sleep-and-not-wake-up-until-I-feel-better" stage. Quite honestly I'm surprised at what I've accomplished today because I truly have no motivation. I forced myself to go on my walk. I didn't want to go. But I figured getting out of the house would be good for me. It didn't help. Nothing helps.

Last week - Tuesday - I saw my psychiatrist. He upped my dose of Wellbutrin from 300mg to 450mg - the max dose. I am an idiot for how I tried to go off of the Pristiq, and he's keeping me on it for now. I see him again July 12th to see how the increased dose is working. So far no change in my mood. Except I feel a wee bit more cranky. Irritable. Maybe that's a coincidence. We'll see. If there's no real change in my mood in a month I'm going to talk to him about going off the Pristiq. Maybe with one less antidepressant I'll have a greater range of moods. I don't know. Maybe I'm talking out of my ass. I just don't know what to do. And I'm tired of feeling this way. 

On the up side, I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow morning. I'm growing it out from a pixie cut (which is a long and arduous process), but it needs a trim desperately. I'm starting to get a mullet in back, not the look I'm going for. So at least that's something small I can look forward to.

I wish I could see Mike. It's only been two weeks since his surgery, so it'll be at least another 4-6 weeks before I can see him. I hate that. I wish it was sooner. But I have no choice but to wait. I need some support. I know he said if I needed anything to email him, but I don't want to be a needy burden. So I wait. 

I'm reading a book on adult daughters of alcoholics. And I have an ACOA workbook to work through. Fun times. But the book on adult daughters, Perfect Daughters, is spot on. It's like the story of my life. Which is scary and sad and infuriating and comforting all at the same time. Maybe, just maybe I can find some closure to this chapter of my life. As my mom continues to drive me crazy. It's in her head now that I'm her best friend and therapist and I'm going to help her through all life's obstacles. Fighting with her husband? Call Cami. Worried about grandma? Call Cami. Have a bad dream? Call Cami. Every. Little. Thing. I AM NEITHER YOUR FRIEND NOR THERAPIST. I am basically your estranged daughter who truly wants nothing to do with you. And I feel horribly guilty for feeling this way. But I have no real relationship with her. Talking to her is torture - especially since 99 times out of 100 she's drunk when she calls me. But I feel bad and guilty because I'm not a "good daughter". I don't know what to do. 

So that's where I'm at. Feeling like crap about everything and not having motivation to do anything. What a glorious place to be. I guess I could share the artwork I did this morning:

It's titled "Drowning". It's 8X10, watercolor and ink. Mostly ink. I like how it turned out. 

 

Tuesday 4/12/22 New Painting

 Figured I had better write today, as the rest of my week is jam packed. Like, no free time at all. I work Tomorrow, Friday, and Saturday, and then Thursday I'll be at the riding center (Norris Penrose) from 8:30am - 3:30pm. I have a long 4 days coming up. At least Thursday I'll be with horses. As I will be this evening. And was yesterday. 

I'd say my mood has been pretty blah since my last post. The exception being last Friday where I woke up pretty depressed (I was also pretty depressed last Wednesday and Thursday). But I had a training class at Norris Penrose and was playing with horses for 3 hours and it helped lift my spirits. Other than that I've been pretty blah. Which is better than depressed . . . but still not great. I don't want to be blah. I want to be more than that. I'm definitely lacking in the motivation department. Hardly doing anything but the bare minimum. Which I hate. But I can't seem to bring myself to do anything. Ugh.

So, Thursdays, when I'm able to, I'll be at Norris Penrose as a horse handler, working with kids and adults with mental health issues (mostly anxiety and depression, but some personality disorders as well). I'm looking forward to this. A lot. THIS is what I want to do, a lot more so than being a side walker, which is what I am out at Latigo. So I'm going to be trying to get every Thursday off, as well as Tuesdays. We'll see how that goes. 

Anyway, I did manage to paint today. A painting of a horse eye that I'm pretty proud of. It's titled, "Window to the Soul". 

It was nerve racking to paint! But I'm happy with the outcome. It's 5X7, watercolor. 

So yeah. That's all I've got for today. Two more weeks until I have therapy. 

Wednesday 4/6/22 Therapy?

 I'm supposed to have therapy tomorrow morning at 0800. But now I'm not. Mike texted me this morning, needing to cancel and reschedule our appointment (he has a sick family member he needs to visit). Which is fine, I guess, except now I have to wait another 3 weeks. That will be 6 weeks between appointments. Which, I guess, isn't so bad. Right? It's not like I'm in crisis or something. But, truth be told, I was wanting that appointment tomorrow. Really wanting it. And now it's not for another 3 weeks. Which, let's be honest, kind of sucks. 

When I saw the text from Mike this morning my heart sank. I felt kind of crushed. I teared up. I probably would have cried if I was able to muster up any emotion. But I get it. Family comes first. I just wish it didn't make me feel so crappy. And I feel like I'm selfish for feeling this way. Which makes me feel guilty. Which makes me feel more crappy. And I'm having an off day anyway, which makes me feel crappy. And then I tried to paint and ruined a painting, which makes me feel crappy. It's all around a crappy day for me. Way to be negative, self.

Yesterday I had my first volunteering shift at the riding center. I'm a side walker right now, which means I walk along side the horse and help keep the rider stable, help keep him focused on the task at hand. The class was an hour long, from 1715 - 1815. Kind of late, but oh well. It was the only opening they had for a regular position on Tuesdays. And it was good. It was fun. At least, I say it was fun. In all actuality I'm numb and blah and withdrawn. It was better than I thought it was going to be, but I think I'm trying to convince myself that I had fun. But I got to smell the barn smells and scratch some horses and get some exercise . . . so that was good. And it's the only way I can get my foot in the door to hopefully do more with the horses (like mucking stalls and grooming). So that was yesterday. 

I'm still very much just going through the motions of life. No real joy or happiness or contentment. I feel hollow, empty, like nothing matters so why try. And it's a real shitty way to feel. I'm so sick of it. It's this constant low level depression that just won't go away. I'm unfeeling. I've been drawing and painting quite a bit, but I'm not getting pleasure out of it - I'm doing it to pass the time. It distracts me so I don't wallow in how empty and pointless I feel. I'm so hoping that being around horses again will help. Because I don't know what else to do. The only thing treatment wise I have left to try is ketamine - and I'd rather avoid that if I can. I hate feeling so numb though. Maybe I really do need to see Dr. Marciniak again, see if there's any med tweak we can try. I don't know. I'm pretty sure there isn't. Horses are kind of my last ditch effort. 

Anyway, I guess I should end this on a positive note, right? Not be so negative. So here's a couple of brush style horses I painted yesterday:

 

I really like this style. It's loose and freeing. We'll end with that. 

Thursday 3/17/22 Therapy

 Happy St Patty's Day! If you celebrate that, I guess. I don't. It's just another day for me. 

Anyway, I had therapy today and boy was it a hoot! Not really. That was sarcasm. It was difficult. Why? Because we jumped right into TRAUMA WORK. Ugh. Something that I thought we'd done in the past - which we have, a little - but now we're revisiting it because Mike thinks it will be helpful for me. 

It's interesting, because I've been reading a book on trauma (I mentioned it in my post 2 weeks ago). Trauma in dealing with my alcoholic mother and growing up in an alcoholic home, with neglect and instability. But what Mike brought up first was my rape. My rape that happened 23 or 24 years ago. Why the rape? Well, I always bring my artwork in to show Mike and he commented today that he's never seen me draw a male figure. Which I haven't. I don't. He asked why. The reason is that I don't necessarily find the male body attractive like I do the female body (no, I'm not gay). I've never drawn the male body and therefor wouldn't be very skilled at doing so. And if I'm doing art that's representing myself, it will always be female (duh!). He asked if I was afraid of what the male body represented and I was all what? *cock head to side as if trying to understand* He said that since I was raped by a man that maybe the male body (drawing it, at least) subconsciously reminds me of that. Again I was like, what? He then asked if I had ever had a flashback to that day. Which the answer is yes, yes I have. It doesn't happen often (rarely), but I have. So he said that we needed to talk about it. 

So we did. I've compartmentalized the event and shoved it far back into the recesses of my mind. When it comes up I don't deal with it - I push it away. I figured this was a good thing. But Mike (and the trauma book I'm reading) said I need to acknowledge the trauma, feel it, and work through it. Which sounds awful if you ask me. But we talked about it. And I felt sick to my stomach. And I felt anger and fear and humiliation. And then Mike centered me and grounded me back in the here and now. Remembering the rape is almost dreamlike for me. It's fuzzy around the edges. But we brought it back into focus which was pretty horrible. But then I got to move on. 

Mike then asked me about other memories, childhood memories. If they were dreamlike as well or if some were more concrete. I told him about when I was in 5th grade I got to leave school on Friday's to go to Bemis Art School. I rode a bus there. And I remember sitting with my head against the window, looking out at the road, wondering why I wasn't happy like all the other kids were. Why did I struggle? Why did I feel so bad? Mike had me do a visualization exercise. I had to imagine that I had 10 year old me sitting in my lap. He had me "hug" her and say to her what I would say to 10 year old me who was in that situation. And it felt so weird and so uncomfortable and I was self conscious. But, to my surprise, I welled up with emotion and started to cry. I started to cry, people. I haven't been able to cry for months. And I cried, "holding" this 10 year old me in my lap. Mike gave me a few minutes and then had me take some deep breaths. He had me "pull" 10 year old me into my heart and hold her there. To keep her safe and to realize that she's a part of me. I don't need to compartmentalize her and push her away. I can feel her, support her, and let her go. 

So yeah. Trauma work. It's hard. It's full of icky feels. And it's something I get to do for a while. I'm not really looking forward to it. At all. But, maybe it will help with my depression. 

In other news, nothing much else is going on. I'm painting horses, working, napping. Not much else. I have bad days and I have blah days. Blah is about as good as it gets. Blah is not fun. I don't feel much joy or happiness or contentment (not really any). Which sucks. I'm just floating along through life, trying to keep my head above water. The only thing I'm looking forward to is volunteering at the riding center (my orientation is April 2nd). Being with horses is good. They are my zen. 

Here. Have a horse to look at. This post was depressing.

Wednesday 2/9/22 How About Some Horses

 So I painted some horses. Five paintings. Two are alright; three are crap. I'm out of practice painting horses and it shows. Oh well, practice makes perfect right?

Here's one of the okay paintings:

It's not too bad, just also not great. I can do better. Maybe I was just having an off day on Monday. Well, I know I was having an off day, in more areas than just painting. Monday was a day of feeling like crap, hating myself, and being depressed. It was not fun. But what can you do? Press on, like always. So I painted - poorly - and carried on. 

I worked yesterday and it was set up to be a horrifically busy day delivering babies. But then, it wasn't. We only did 5 deliveries (and left 7 in labor for night shift - oops!). And my mood was mostly okay. Withdrawn, but okay. Which was a God send after how I was feeling on Monday. 

Today I'm very blah. Numb. Flat. Nothing. Existing. And I'm not digging it. I painted again today, just a couple of paintings. Other than that I've been kind of floating around, not really doing anything. I want to work out but I have no motivation. It would be so much easier to sleep. And that's pretty much my life. No motivation, let's just sleep. Feeling bad? Let's just sleep. Bored? Sleep. Hungry? Sleep. I don't want to be this way but I can't seem to change it. Now, I'm not always sleeping. No. Sometimes I'm staring off into space or scrolling social media. Because these things are easier than dealing with my feelings. Which often don't feel good. 

Ugh. This sucks y'all. 

Thursday 12/16/21 I Was Creative . . . Kind Of

 A second post this week. Weird. 

Yesterday I was a little creative. I was on my spin bike, listening to music, when I had an idea for a painting. So after I finished working out and showered, I actually painted something. This is a huge accomplishment since I haven't done anything creative in almost 2 months. And it felt good to paint again. Even if it was only something simple. 

Here's what I painted:

It's called "Dark Clouds". It's 5X7, watercolor and ink. It's kind of a personal piece. Dark clouds breed dark thoughts, and while my thoughts haven't been too dark, they are there, lurking. It was a quick painting and I like how it turned out. 

I also painted this yesterday:

Because depression lies. And for me - someone who's been depressed most of their life - there's a sense of familiarity and almost . . . comfort, in being depressed again. It's a sick sort of comfort, one that is all together unwell. But see, depression lies. Depression is lying to me, telling me that this is my natural state. This is untrue. My year and a half of stability are my natural state. But depression is there, whispering lies in my ear, trying to get me to give in. I truly am doing everything in my power to fight this depressive episode. But those lies are tempting at times. At times it seems easier to give in than fight. Fighting takes a lot of energy and I'm so very tired. 

But I will continue fighting. I'm strong and I'm stubborn and I will prevail. Even if it's eventually.  

Tuesday 10/19/21 Ummmm . . .

 Another week has gone by, nothing new is happening. I have a headache though. Woke up with it. It went away for a few hours, but it's back now. With a vengeance. Ugh. Stupid headache. 

So, last week I took care of a Spanish speaking patient. She knew a tiny bit of English, and, well, I know a tiny bit of Spanish. I only had to use the interpreter phone twice (when explaining medical stuff), the rest of the day we were able to communicate. But this experience has rekindled my desire to learn Spanish. Like, really learn it. No matter how hard it is or how long it takes. I tried to learn it about 2 years ago and had a hard time because my memory is shot from doing ECT for 3 years. I gave up. I hate that I gave up. I would be so much better off if I stuck with it. But noooooo, it was hard so I quit. I'm not going to do that this time. I'm going to learn. I still have my subscription to Babbel, which I used for the first time again yesterday. And all my learning Spanish books. And note cards I made. I'm going to do this!! 

I worked Sunday, primary nursery, and we had a sad situation. A gal came in for a labor check and there were no heart tones. She was a scheduled c-section the next day (Monday). And there were no heart tones. I assisted during her c-section to deliver a baby born sleeping. It was so very sad. I got weight and measurements, did hand prints and foot prints. This perfect baby boy who was called back by God too soon. My job is usually a happy one. But when it isn't, it isn't. I've prayed for this family every night. Maybe you could, too. 

In other news, I've been trying to stay productive with sewing and drawing/painting. For the most part I'm doing okay. I'm stock piling sock rats and little owls and soul suckers in hopes of doing a toy con with them. However, I don't think this year will be the year for me to do that. Maybe next year, when I have more time to prepare (the toy con I was going to do this year is in December and I feel overwhelmed). Anyway, here's a little fox I painted:

With his cute butterfly friend! I like him. And I thought I had him sold after I posted him on FB, but apparently some people think $20 for an original piece of artwork is too much. Whatever. I need to scan it and post it on Etsy. I'm going to be slowly raising my prices on original pieces as I plan to start offering prints of some of them. But yeah. People annoy me. 

Anyway, that's it for this week. 

Thursday 9/30/21 Tired

 Well, another week has gone by and not much of anything is going on. Except work and laundry, the two constants. 

Work is still busy. Annoyingly so. But on the rare days we're not super busy, we're being floated to other units. Which sucks. Mostly we're being used as sitters, meaning we're sitting in a patient's room for the full 12 hour shift basically staring at them and charting what they're doing every 15 minutes. Being a sitter is horrifically boring and awkward. 

In other news, I'm sick of this pandemic. I know, I know, everyone is. But it's especially hard being a healthcare worker. I'm so burnt out it's not even funny. And I have it pretty cushy on my unit - we only have about one covid patient a week (whereas other units have over half of their patients with covid). But yet, I'm burnt out and sick of the pandemic. I'm sick of hearing about it constantly. I'm sick of all of the arguing and finger pointing. I'm sick of vaccine mandates (I believe in body autonomy). I'm sick of it all. 

I'm also tired. All. The. Time. Tired. It doesn't matter how much sleep I get, I'm tired. And being so tired is severely hampering my motivation to get stuff done. Should I do the dishes or nap? Sew or nap? Paint or nap? Often, napping wins. Especially after lunch - I get so groggy and sleepy after lunch. No matter what I eat. Healthy or junk, I'm sleepy. 

I haven't been to the gym in a month and a half. I lapsed at first when I had my tooth pulled because ANY physical activity - even going up the stairs at home - made the whole left side of my face throb in pain. But then when it got better, I just continued not going. I haven't gained any weight thank goodness, but I feel gross. 

For the past month, too, I've been feeling like I'm getting sick. The slightest bit of malaise. Slight sore throat, slight headache. And a cough that comes and goes. I'm sure I wrote about this in a previous post. I'm still dealing with it. Maybe that's one of the reasons I'm so freaking tired. 

Anyway, I painted today - 3 foxes - and did laundry and the dishes. So I guess I feel accomplished. And I'm blogging (not that this takes much brain power or physical ability). But at least I'm not napping, even though I desperately want to. 

The weather is cooler today, only around 50 degrees. Overcast and chilly. The leaves are changing and I'm hoping to go to the mountains on Saturday to see the aspens. A nice mountain drive. Clear my head. Get away, even if only for a day. 

Friday 9/10/21 Tattoo Concepts

 I've been thinking for a long time about whether or not I want to cover my self harm scars on my left forearm. Part of me has always thought that they're a part of my story, and therefor I shouldn't cover them. After all - they're part of me. But the rest of me is a little ashamed of the scars and finds them to be ugly and stigmatizing. People look at you different when they see that you've cut yourself. Maybe they look at you with pity or, often, a hint of disgust. So I've thought long and hard over the past several months and have decided that I want to cover them - with a tattoo of course! I think tattoos (especially now) are more socially acceptable than self harm scars. 

Now, I'm not even sure my scars can be covered well. That's something I need to talk with my tattoo artist about. See, I have quite a few scars on the underside of my left forearm. But I've seen other scars - ones larger and more raised than mine - covered. And that's what I'd like to do. I have two concept drawings in the running. Both are foxes. I happen to love foxes. They are gorgeous creatures. I've used them in my personal art before. 

First up, my watercolor fox:

I truly love how this came out. But, as much as I love it, I'm leaning towards my second fox:

Black and grey. I think this will hide the scars better than my watercolor version. And I just really love it. 

We'll see what my artist has  to say about them both. I'd be happy with either, quite honestly. 

In other news, not much has been going on. Work is busy. It's always busy. I'm trying to make stuff - paintings, bookmarks, plushies. I need to have stuff if I'm going to sell at a con, right? I tried sewing today, tried to make a few small owls, but luck and skill was not on my side today. My sewing machine kept jamming and snagging the fabric, which royally pissed me off. So I decided to sew a sock rat, which is mostly hand sewing. That was disasterous. But I finished him. And I got 3 owls partially done. Along with drawing my black and grey fox. So that's something at least.  

Tuesday 5/25/21 I Need Ink

 Well it's Tuesday again, funny how that happens. 

So there's not much new in my world, I'm really rather boring. Hubby got a new car (at least new to us). This was Saturday. A 2013 Toyota Venza. It's silver, fully loaded, all wheel drive . . . a real nice ride. He's been wanting a Venza for years so this is pretty cool. It's super comfy, too. 

I've discovered that junk food doesn't agree with me any more. Since I've been eating healthier and mostly clean, my tummy does NOT tolerate junk (think fast food, refined sugar, fried foods . . . ). I get crampy and gassy and yes, diarrhea. So much fun! I mean, I guess it's good, right? No longer eating junk is good (and has helped me lose 18 pounds so far), and with getting the bubble guts I have a good deterrent to junk food. But MAN would I like a greasy Culver's burger and side of cheese curds! Even my beloved Chic fil a does me wrong now. Ugh. Oh well, healthy eating it is. I've been thinking of taking a food sensitivity test though, to see if there's something specific I'm reacting to (ya know, like gluten or dairy). We'll see. 

In other news, I'm jonesing for some new ink. On the top part of my right forearm. I just need to convince hubby that I need another tattoo. I've even designed it! I did 3 different paintings: two of a chickadee with cherry blossoms and one with a chickadee on a pine tree branch. The cherry blossoms are okay, but I love the one I painted today.

Chickadee on a pine tree branch! Some back story - I love chickadees. They remind me of my dad. Because growing up I would spend the weekends with him and I loved watching and listening to the chickadees up in the mountains. And pine trees remind me of the mountains too, for obvious reasons. And while I do love cherry blossoms, I just happen to like this painting the best out of all of them. So I do believe, with about 90% certainty, that this is my next tattoo. Now I just have to get hubby on board.

There's nothing much else going on. I had to call in sick to work on Saturday because of said bubble guts. Yesterday I helped deliver a 27 week old baby (40 weeks is term). She was super tiny - not quite 2 pounds! It was pretty awesome. My mood has still been holding steady, doing good. And our weather is finally feeling like spring but I'm still wearing my hoodie today because for some reason I'm FREEZING. I need to go sit out in the sun.

Thursday 5/6/21 Feeling Better

 My last post was a Debbie Downer, wasn't it? Well, I'm happy to say that I'm feeling quite a bit better now. My mood is improved, though I'm still lacking in the motivation department. I worked the last 3 days - BUSY days - and was on call today. Thankfully, I was released from call, so no work for me today! Which is wonderful because I was freaking tired when I got up this morning. So tired that I took a mid morning nap already. I'm off tomorrow too, which is nice, because I still work Saturday and Sunday. 

Tuesday was the day I went to work extra because we had no one to work nursery. I made time and a half and my manager gave me a $125 gift card to say thank you for saving her butt. I wasn't expecting that so that was nice. And I'm spending my day today doing laundry. Yay laundry!!

There's nothing much going on. I'm planning on painting tomorrow - I have 4 bird sketches to paint. And probably more laundry. Cause laundry never ends. Ever. I'm just very grateful that I'm feeling like me again. I really was worried there for a minute. 

So anyway, short post is short.