Dropping the "MC"

I've moved on...

2016

This is my first, and only, image of the year. I spent yesterday in the 'Hut because I wasn't feeling well and this is what I made. Hmmm. Whomever else exists in my brain has been asleep too long.

My PD has been under control but I'm either depressed (the irony is surreal…too depressed to care) or slipping a little into Disassociation. I'm losing the battle with the very particular stress of my finances; my creativity goes into counting my change and into Wishful Thinking. And not one ounce of energy was spent yesterday solving my financial strife; checking and re-checking my bank balance doesn't count. The three private clients I have in the coming days will keep me in food, cigs, and gas until my tax refund hits.

What's even more stupid is that I really ought to be grateful that I've had so much assistance in the last 18 months. Who knows where I'd be if I hadn't had someone to slip me major cash here and there? Why can't I take some gratitude and turn it into enthusiasm? Why am I not boosted by this support? Why do I spend endless hours on his couch, just sitting? (I actually know the answer; I'm just waiting for a way to express it.)

I still find my mind drifting back to the nothingness of Disassociation when I stop to ponder my mental health. I'm still mad at my past. I'm back in debt, financially and spiritually.

But in a few hours I'll shower and head to the local beauty shop to do Chair Massage…IF someone wants one. Some days people do, some days they don't. Making money has never really been the point with this particular gig. I'm going because my time with this group of older women gives me Hope. I can say with a degree of confidence that I won't feel as lousy 12 hours from now.

'Not really a cheerful start to the year but that's ok. At least I didn't devote my time to writing about not writing…

Some Light Housekeeping

I finally fixed the images from the last three posts. The most recent one was from July? Really? I've lived a whole lifetime since July and that post was just an image.

The darkened cloud was as far as I got with trying to process the Memorial Day floods. Cousin Diane lost her home… And then my True Love started his journey towards finding out why he wasn't feeling well. Like I said, it's been a Lifetime! And Camp Meeting happened! Cheese-and-crackers.

Luckily I've made space for myself in my True Love's home and I've been doodling. Today feels like a New Start. Mozel tov!


Footnote: wasn't Yom Kippur just the other day? Haha…I really do have an Inner Jew.

Too much in my own head…

Photoshop filter, "Ink Outline"

(It's Been) So Long...

I experience "writer's block" (or more accurately, lack of art-making) as a form of frontal lobe dysfunction. I sense a lack of central networking between my creative mind and the outcomes from my hands; ideas just don't make it to the tips of my fingers. BUT I'm very blessed to be working as a Massage Therapist and I'm doubly-blessed that my clients have such profound Special Needs. The tips of my fingers and my brain are always busy and engaged and, for the most part, quite content with the tasks at hand…literally, of course. I might not be keeping up on my art but I know in my heart that I'm doing Good Things.

The last 2 months have been challenging on every single level of my Life save one: Love. We lost a close family friend (78, found dead at her kitchen table) and my cousin Mark (42, suicide by self-strangulation, conspicuously drug-induced…after extended sobriety) within 2 weeks of each other. Their deaths were sudden, baffling, painful, and forever mysterious. I was so unprepared for the impact. I didn't know that I loved them so much. I didn't know how angry I'd be about my cousin's suicide; I wanted so much to pursue the person we believe set his Fate into motion.

One outcome is that I no longer have any buffer income. My former employer and I mutually agreed that I shouldn't work with her. I actually think that she might have started the conversation with the intent of my possibly staying but really, after all of that and she's going to complain that I'm not chipper enough? Really? To be honest, I'm having a hard time letting go of that conversation; the woman truly has no clue about me and yet she was able to project so much! I must be getting old because I find myself thinking, "I was punctual, trustworthy, efficient (at least w domestic tasks). I worked through injury, illness and grief and you're wishing I was more like the 21-yr old LIAR who worked until her first check and never showed up again?!?!?" (Maybe now I'll feel better…?)

And then there's my Edward Joseph. My Oasis…my Peace…there's an undeniable electrical (?) connection that's been made between us that constantly recharges itself; a "Northern Lights-type of phenomena. I've never had this kind of Love. I'm in awe of us. This is Our Life.

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**sigh** As I attempt to be my own editor, I reread this entry and I'm not pleased with my writing. I'll do my best to improve and I'll also try to be kind to myself. 'Give myself more recovery time….