It's 2018 people, time to wake up and get your life in order. Just kidding, go back to bed if you're lucky enough to be able to. No need for us all to be up and cranky at the same time.
For those of you still awake and reading, good morning and good Tuesday. We didn't need those slackers here taking up space anyways.
Like everyone else in the world with at least a vague idea of how calendars work and a yearning for good will and prosperity in ones future, I've spent the past week picking through the remains of 2017 and contemplating the possibilities of 2018. I'm not one to be overly optimistic, but in an effort to remedy myself of unwarranted negativity, I have decided to focus on potential over pitfalls throughout this next revolution around the sun. In the most cliche sense, only time will tell if I'm successful.
Deciding to join me in my efforts is Cheryl Holroyd. We've been through a lot together over the past several years and have come to the mutual conclusion that it's about time things started going our way. 2018 will be our year to make things happen. We will be proactive instead of reactive. We will be in charge of our own happiness. We held a meeting, called a vote, and by a show of hands, decided to leave the past where it had landed and move on without it. Already by mid-morning on the first day of the new year, things were looking decidedly brighter. Until a short while later when a phone call let us know that Cheryl's mother had passed away earlier that morning.
I realize that dropping such an abrupt and tragic announcement into what has been an otherwise optimistic and upbeat dialogue could give the impression that I'm treating the situation lightly or without proper reverence, but nothing could be further from the truth. I am deeply saddened by the heavy loss my dear friend and her family have suffered and I wish I could make things better for them, but I can't. That's how this type of news is given. That's how life works. As good as it can be or as good as you can make it, you have to be prepared to work with it as well.
At this point, it would be very easy to write off 2018 before it even has a chance to get its bearings, and I wouldn't blame Cheryl if she did. But I hope she doesn't. Life for her and her family is hard right now and will continue to be so for some time. The experiences of 2018 may seem a little less significant with one less person to share them with but they are still there to be had, and Cheryl, like the rest of us, deserves the chance to experience them to their fullest. I can't imagine that her mother would want anything less for her.
I still plan to stand by our vote and make 2018 the best and most positive year I can, but I'm entering an amendment into the charter. I won't be leaving the past behind, or at least not all of it. I realize now how important it is as we move forward, we remember to bring with us the people and things that still matter. Pay attention to them, continue to learn from them, and don't lose them in our rush for something better. Don't be afraid to make new memories, but also don't be afraid to hold onto the ones that brought you this far; the good and the bad.
So start your journey into the new year but on your way through the door, give the people in your life a big hug and a kiss and make sure they know how much they still matter. You never know when a phone call may make you wish you had.
Good morning everyone and happy new year.
A song for Cheryl: Bette Midler "The Wind Beneath My Wings".
Added new poem to Poetry section
If you dream of flying and I dream of dying, who’s the one crying for help?
You yearn for things, only my dream can bring, while I do not lie to myself.
To dream that you can, do things beyond man is exactly what I myself do.
But you try to clasp what lies past your grasp while I, to myself remain true.
Your fantastical dreams bring your life to its knees
In the end, you must take from yourself.
So, if you dream of flying and I dream of dying, who’s the one crying for help?
Saturday night turned out to be a quiet one as none of the sixty-four people I invited to celebrate my birthday were able to make it, but I received many kind birthday wishes from people here on Facebook and I want to give thanks for that. Special thanks to Cheryl Holroyd who travelled here from London on Saturday to keep me company with some drinks and laughter.
Well, I suppose it's time to get this Monday rolling. I'm not getting any younger.
Today's song to be 46 to: Pet Shop Boys "West End Girls".
Hey look! It's winter, it's cold, and I'm out walking. A big moment for me, seeing as how I've refused to leave the house for a week. I was coaxed out by a gracious birthday lunch surprise (thank you Melissa Daer, and I apologize again for assailing you non-stop with my inane blabbering) and errands that had to be taken care of (had to buy my load of socks, mitts, and hats for tonight) but I'm choosing to claim the outdoor trek as a birthday gift of sunshine to myself.
Out for birthday breakfast with the 'rents. They're paying. At least I hope they are.
It took me two and a half hours to get out of bed this morning. I woke up (that part was the real struggle) and then just laid there. It was OK though. It was a good thing. I didn't get out of bed because I was tired. Plain, old fashioned, run-of-the-mill tired. Sure, there's a sliver of anxiety wedged in there somewhere deep but I look at it like having a metal pin your arm. It's always going to be there, so you learn to live with it. The things that weren't there? Depression and mania. I woke up a blank slate and as close to calm as I can generally get. I won't claim that I was happy or even necessarily in a "good" mood, so much as I was "here". To be here and in the moment can be a very difficult thing to attain as I (like I know many others do) tend to spend too much time either fretting over things I'm convinced need to be accomplished or things I have failed to accomplish. In therapy circles, they call this act of living in the moment, "mindfulness".
When people meditate, they are being mindful. It's not about clearing everything out of your head and staring blankly out of an empty box. That's impossible. Contrary to a popular misconception, you can't turn your brain off by flipping a switch, or drain its contents by pulling a plug like you've finished a bath. Being mindful is closer to the opposite. It's about actually paying attention to what's happening right there and then and not ignoring it. It's about receiving the information that presents itself to you, recognizing your thoughts for what they are - just thoughts - and then letting them go again. Thoughts are not inherently good or bad, they simply are, and we are responsible for giving them their power. When being mindful, we are observing without judging and without acting. Admittedly, it's not an easy thing to master and it surprises a lot of people that, like most things in life, it takes practice to do it well. Most people don't have the patience - which is ironic as patience is one of the key things being mindful can teach you. It's an odd concept I suppose, having to learn how to learn.
I wish I could say I'm a master of practicing what I preach, but I try to avoid lying unless it's absolutely necessary. I have enough things fueling my anxiety, I don't need to complicate things further by having to track what lies I've told. This morning however, for whatever reason, I was fortunate enough to be granted some unexpected quiet in place of my usual chaos, and for that I'm thankful. Whatever else happens today, I'll still have that.
It's another day, another dollar, another flight of stairs, but amidst all the other crap you pack into your life and convince yourself it means as much or more than you do, steal five minutes back and spend it on yourself. The other crap will still be there tomorrow but you're here now, and that's what's important.
A song for my Aunt Helen: The Marathons "Peanut Butter".
If I could do it all again, I wouldn't, and by "it", I mean getting out of bed this morning.
I know I've been posting a lot about depression and anxiety lately, but as a result of age and medication, I don't have many manic episodes anymore and I haven't felt motivated to share what those experiences can be like. The following is a conversation I had with myself, which I recorded (I sometimes record myself on my phone if I am feeling particularly moved by something and may want to write it down later) back on May 27, 2017. I have left out all punctuation and pauses so it may be a little hard to follow. I've done this to illustrate how it flows in my head. Very quickly, without breaks, and with a sense of urgency bordering on euphoria.
During these periods I feel positive and sometimes, even invincible. I feel good about myself and the world. I have an extraordinary amount of energy (I once stayed awake for 92 hours, then went to the bar for a while before heading home to bed) and I can be extremely productive. The downsides are; I can make potentially dangerous decisions due to my thoughts racing faster than rational judgement can keep pace, I often detach myself emotionally from relationships, and I can turn spending money into a passionate hobby. It also takes a heavy toll on me physically, leaving me exhausted for days after. Even so, I occasionally find myself yearning for the next episode as a "lesser of two evils" reprieve from the increasingly prevalent anxiety and depression. I compare it to standing in an empty house and staring out the window, waiting for a dysfunctional group of friends to pull up the drive. They're a rowdy, reckless bunch who party too hard and leave me laid out on the floor with a killer hangover once they're gone; but while they're present, while I'm surrounded by the laughter and music and frenzied activity that dominates that normally empty space, I know I'm not alone and I forget what it's like to be anything but incredible.
With that background in place, I share with you a brief, relatively tame snapshot of what it's sometimes like to be in my head on an "up" day. Remember, this is a transcription, word for word, of what I recorded on my phone.
"i went for an hour on the treadmill and burned about 700 calories and shortly after i came upstairs and felt guilty because I had this old photo cd of a friend of mine who is a personal trainer and once trained me personally and she uh gave me the cd to help her put together a calendar as a gift for her uh boyfriend husband whatever um y'know as a birthday gift and i did it but i was supposed to give it back to her because it was her only copy of all those pictures and i never got it back to her and i suddenly felt so bad so i just had to go find it so i went and found it and i took a look and yah i found it like pretty quickly so of course i felt really awesome about that so then after i found that i was looking for that and i found this box of stuff and in this box of stuff i found like uh like old uh y'know health card and uh y'know pictures and some canadian money or not canadian money american money why would i have canadian money in there i would be spending it if i had canadian money in there and anyways so i would take um and then i found some chains uh not some chains like some uh some like i don't want to call them necklaces that sounds kind of feminine but uh things for my neck and then um and then i found um oh i found an earing an old earing of mine and so i wanted to try it so i put it in and it slid right in so the hole i had for my earing is uh yah it never filled in it's still there and uh my i now have an earing in um and uh so i threw on some of my uh 80s hits mix and got in the shower and uh yah felt awesome and realized that uh this stuff is doable we can do this stuff um and uh yah yah things are good they're awesome i might go back on the treadmill and then go for a walk and i just realized that my car is what holds me back from connecting with the world so i should stop using it except for getting groceries because i can't carry them all unless i buy a bit at a time which makes sense because i can only eat one meal at a time and i could use the walk we could all use the walk i think i'll put together a walking group and we can see how far we can go but we might need someone to come pick us up because we'll go too far and not be able to come back cheryl can drive the van though so that would work i need to buy my kids some books because they like to read and i never read to them enough as kids I have to fix that i wonder if anyone knows how much i like those salsita chip things i'll get some when i walk over to get those groceries later we can do this because nothing can stop us if we just believe and i believe i know how awesome i am and i'm going to get some business cards that say that on them so i can give them to people i just meet so i don't have to explain it all to them i don't have time for that when i have so much to do i should go find the dog"
Aaaaand, scene.
This is just a house. In the driveway, is just a car. The work I do to pay my bills, is just a job. In my world, I am surrounded by just furniture, nice clothes, gadgets, and toys. What I have in the bank, is just money. It's just the stuff I have, not what I am. It's all "stuff". It's just stuff, and stuff will never be more than just me. I can alter stuff and I can move stuff. I can replace stuff, ignore stuff, and even outright get rid of stuff. Stuff can never get rid of me.
When I look around and I start changing stuff - when I change the house, the car, the job - when I change all the things around me and I keep changing them until I encounter something I can't change, then I know I've found something real. Something that matters. If it matters, if it really matters, I can't change it. It's there, and try as I might, I can't replace it. I can't ignore it and I can't get rid of it. It's solid. If I love someone or something so much I can't walk away, if I can't abandon them - even if it's only in my heart and mind - then they're not "stuff". These are the things that matter. That's how I know what matters. That's how I know what's real.
I get depressed and despondent about the things that impact my life but the truth is, if I have to move, I'll find a new place. If I have to walk instead of ride, I'll tie up my laces. If I have to find another job, I'll hand out my resume. If I have to give up my furniture, my nice clothes, my gadgets, my toys, I'll learn to go without. There could be this house, this car, this job, another house, another car, another job. There could be another fifty, another hundred. I may not like it, I may even hate it, but only if I let it dictate my life and happiness, does it become more than just stuff. If I let these things change me, then I am no longer "me". I have become just "stuff" and stuff doesn't matter. I no longer matter.
I refuse to be just "stuff" and you should too.
A song for me: The Dream Academy "Life In A Northern Town".