So It Goes

nocoincidenceLast night I sat down to write post four of The Twelve Days of Christmas to discover that it was 1am. DAMMIT. Only four days into the Twelve Days of Christmas I broke my promise of a daily post because I was at a Christmas party and lost track of time. Kicking myself for failing as a writer, friend, advisor, and human being, I stood and entered my living room to find a shredded ten-dollar bill on the floor.

Digby looked guilty but only in a, “Well you weren’t paying attention to me, you asshole” kind of way so my anger subsided. It’s not like he knew that piece of paper had a ten-dollar value. Or did he? In the background of this little scene lay his new winter coat.

Just two hours before I had given “But my dog needs clothes” spiel to friends. “Boston terriers and pugs can’t regulate their body temperature in extreme weather due to their brachycephalic noses!” I don’t know if it’s because I find it hard to pronounce “brachycephalic” but no one ever buys my story.

I swear to God the pug breeder I talked to said that pugs have to wear coats. That said, two of my neighbours have pugs who seem to handle the winter just fine by being naked outdoors. And they aren’t even embarrassed!

Anyway, the best thing about feeling desperate so often is that the little things can become much funnier than they would otherwise. I mean, I really needed those ten dollars because I am flat broke. But did I need them in the way that Digby needs a winter coat? Who is to say what money can buy in terms of quality of life, even in the Christmas season when I’m making more gifts than I want to yet again. I have a roof over my head and a dog in a silly jacket to make me laugh.

So it goes. Life is fucked, one hundred percent. Children being murdered during the holiday season, and I want to cry every day. I can’t be perfect, no one is. So I’m going to screw up in being the perfect blogger and Digby is never going to be the model of dog behaviour.

In the words of Kurt Vonnegut, whom I’m leaning on quite a lot these days, “So it goes.”

“The repeated refrain from Vonnegut’s classic Slaughterhouse-Five isn’t notable for its unique wording so much as for how much emotion—and dismissal of emotion—it packs into three simple, world-weary words that simultaneously accept and dismiss everything. There’s a reason this quote graced practically every elegy written for Vonnegut over the past two weeks (yes, including ours): It neatly encompasses a whole way of life. More crudely put: “Shit happens, and it’s awful, but it’s also okay. We deal with it because we have to.” – A.V. Club

I even embroidered those words on my journal for art month. So it goes.

SoItGoes

Thank you Kurt, Digby, and my friends who humour my outrageous pet owner antics. Thank you readers. We’ll keep going, because we have to. Thank goodness life can make us laugh once in a while.

P.S. Digby also crashed a nativity scene recently. It totally made my week.

How to Have a Good Cry & Cover it Up (If You Need to)

Lately I’ve experimented with revealing my tear-stained face to friends and family as a way of being honest about my feelings. If people see that I’ve been crying, that tells a lot about my current state. But what if you don’t want people to know that you’ve been crying? What if the fear of people knowing you were crying keeps you from crying in the first place?

I first started to self-harm because a cut was easier to hide than a tearful face. Then, of course, that backfired because I had to hide scars once t-shirt season arrived again, that were proof that I’d been hurting months and months ago. Had I cried at the time I was upset, people would’ve known for maybe an hour or two and then the evidence would have been gone.

Crying can be embarrassing but we get the urge to cry for a reason: it’s our built-in coping mechanism for dealing with stress and pain. Our bodies don’t waste energy on things that aren’t helpful. Even getting goosebumps when you’re freaked out has a purpose: it’s to raise the hair on your skin to make your body look bigger and scarier to potential predators. Just like a freaked out cat!

“Maybe crying is a means of cleaning yourself out emotionally. Or maybe it’s your communication of last resort; the only way to express yourself when words fail the same as when you were a baby and had no words.”
-Aristotle

It might seem kind of dumb to write a how-to guide for something we all do naturally within seconds of being born, but I think our urge to cry gets smothered in today’s culture that label such normal coping methods as weak or unflattering. Can you imagine how ridiculous it would be to say to someone, “You don’t have to pee! Don’t be a baby! Do ______ instead?”

Anyway, I’ve cried a lot lately because things have been difficult and I’m trying really hard to cope in healthy ways. Sometimes I don’t hide the fact that I’ve been crying but other times I really want to, especially if I feel better after crying and don’t feel like talking about it anymore. That happened yesterday and I think I did a stellar job at hiding the evidence. But first, I needed to cry it out.

How to Handle a Good Cry

1. Let yourself feel everything you’re feeling

Give yourself permission to feel everything that you’re feeling. Don’t beat yourself up by calling yourself names. (My mom used to tell me not to feel sorry for myself so now I think, “Damn right, I feel sorry for myself! And it’s okay!”)

2. Keep Kleenex/tissues nearby.

Yesterday I needed two boxes. Also get a garbage can so your dog doesn’t eat your snotty mess.

3. Re-hydrate.

Keep a glass of water with you. You’re losing a lot of liquid through your tear ducts and your runny nose. Taking a drink can also help you slow down your sobs if you feel overwhelmed by them. Drinking extra water also prevents a post-crying headache from hell.

4. Remember to breathe.

Breathing helps your body cry. Think of it like “Oxygen in, tears out.” Plus, if you don’t breathe while crying hysterically, it can lead to throwing up. Trust me, you don’t want that to happen on top of it all. If you think you might vomit from crying so hard, cry in the bathroom.

5. Comfort Yourself

Crying can feel scary, especially when you aren’t used to letting yourself do it. I held a teddy bear super tight yesterday as I bawled. Teddy bears can’t be squished!  Hang on to whatever you need and it will get you through the tears.

6. Rest

There is nothing more physically exhausting than a good cry. Work rest into your method of comforting yourself

Although I believe that crying is never shameful, sometimes the fear of people knowing about the tears can keep us from allowing ourselves to feel.

How to Do a Post-Cry Fix Up

1. Rest Easy

My last step of the good crying process is “rest” but you will prevent puffy eyes if you don’t lie down during or after you cry. Lounge on a chair or with your head propped up to prevent your eyes from getting extra puffy. I’ve tried using ice (or freezies) on puffy eyes before but it never helped me much.

2. Dry Off

This is kind of a “duh” tip but make sure your face is dry before attempting any more cover-up steps. You can wipe your face but even then it still needs to dry a little.

3. Concealer

Even if you don’t wear make-up in general, a good concealer will hide the redness and dark circles under your eyes. I use Maybelline’s Cover Stick Concealer. It’s amazing and is available at most drug stores.

4. Eye Drops

Yesterday I used regular Visine and it took the redness out of my eyes.

5. Distract

Were you wearing eye makeup before you cried? Removing it and redoing it should help. If you weren’t wearing eye make-up, adding some now will make your eyes pop in a different way.  If you don’t wear make-up, try adding earrings or anything else on your head/face to draw attention from your post-cry face. Sunglasses work especially well if you’re going to be outside.

6. Smile

I’ve been told that if you smile, no one will know you’ve been crying, but I don’t believe that. It will help people see that you feel better after your cry, however.

What do you do to help yourself cry when you need to? What do you do when you want to cover it up?

(Wondering where my Monday posts have gone? I’m changing the “Monday Theme” to a “Monday Challenge” because I’m typically not able to post more than once a week right now and I’m sick of only writing about music, medication, and memories.)

Music Monday: Amanda Fucking Palmer!

For those of you who know me in ‘real life’ or happen to live in my building (or my neighbourhood I’ve been rocking out so hard), you know that I am COMPLETELY in love with the new Amanda Palmer album, Theatre is Evil. So this Monday post is clearly dedicated to music.

I was a fan of The Dresden Dolls before Amanda branched out on her own in 2008 with Who Killed Amanda Palmer. That album reached me like both a security blanket and a giant statement of flaunting your fuckedupness (yes, I’m making up words now):

My friend has problems with winter and autumn.
They give him prescriptions and shine bright lights on him.
They say it’s genetic, they say he can’t help it, they say you can catch it – but sometimes you’re born with it.
~ Runs in the Family

The track I sung along loudest to was The Point of it All:

She spends a few days at a time on the couch but she says
She wears shades, she wears shades…

And just ’cause they call themselves experts
It doesn’t mean sweet fuck all…

And Another Year gave me comfort about the standstill my life was in. Amanda Palmer got it.

Gradually her lyrics became more positive until she grew into the fabulous flourishing star who I’m dying to be best friends with. Amanda Palmer Goes Down Under was my anthem ever since it was released in 2011. The track In My Mind is pure self-esteem boosting lyrics of love.

This past May, Amanda Palmer announced a Kickstarter project to offset the costs of her recently recorded album and upcoming world tour. The original goal of $100, 000 turned into a profit of $1.1 million dollars.

“I think kickstarter and other crowdfunding platforms like this are the BEST way to put out music right now – no label, no rules, no fuss, no muss. Just us, the music, and the art,” Amanda writes on the Kickstarter page. WE ARE THE MEDIA is one of her sayings.

She’s giving away her new album for free, but I paid for mine to support her amazing self and her amazing cause. And oh yeah, she’s married to Neil Gaiman. Is there a better duo in the whole fucking world?

So before I share a bunch of her videos under the cut, read some of these lyrics from Lost:

No one’s ever lost forever
When they die they go away
But they will visit you occasionally
Do not be afraid
No one’s ever lost forever
They are caught inside your heart
If you garden them and water them
They make you what you are

We can do the same with mental illness. Integrate it into our lives until it makes us who we’ve grown to be in wellness. So click “more” to watch some Amanda Palmer videos. I’m off to go buy a ukulele now!

More

Share love & it grows; share sorrow & it lessens.

I’ve had all of these tabs open for over a week, planning on posting about each one of them and today I’ve realized that this is ridiculous. It’s time for one big sharing post!

Let’s start with the graphic I paired with this post. It’s been floating around Tumblr and I can’t find a source, unfortunately, but it hits the nail on the head with incredible precision. When I’m feeling depressed, it makes me feel a thousand times worse when someone tells me to cheer up because someone in the world is suffering more than I am. Not only does that message make me feel guilty for feeling bad but then I become overwhelmed with all the pain in the world and how helpless we all can feel. Next time you feel guilty for being depressed, remember this picture! Think about how silly it would be to tell a kid who’s happy about a lollipop to stop smiling because someone in the world owns a whole candy factory. It’s like one of my favourite Mark Twain quotes:

“Nothing that grieves us can be called little: by the eternal laws of proportion a child’s loss of a doll and a king’s loss of a crown are events of the same size.”

Going Public With Depression by Kat Kinsman on CNN Living reminds me of the biggest reason I’m coping with my mental illnesses today: I spoke up after being silent for so long. In volunteering and later working for mindyourmind I started to share my story to help other people and doing so has kept me afloat. Kinsman’s article covers her experience with depression and provides links to many other authors and websites who inspired her to reach out and speak up.

Speaking of mindyourmind, I am super excited about their updated Help pages. As always, they provide useful tips and links for helping oneself and for helping a friend, but now they go one step further to explain everything you might need to know when first reaching out. I helped a lot with the initial redesign of the Help pages, especially the “waiting safely” part, in the section called I Need Help NOW.  With my experience of attempting suicide several times, I am familiar with that horrible stage of waiting for help to arrive in an emergency. Most websites don’t go through the details of reaching out for help, waiting for help, and taking care of oneself in a crisis, but mindyourmind takes that crucial step.

What has inspired and motivated you this week?

 

 

 

Mondays: Music, Memories & Medication

Along with music and memories, I’ve chosen the third “M” word for Monday’s themed posts to be medication. It’s the largest reason I am still alive today, still breathing, and functioning enough to write here.

I have to spend a chunk of this week making sure I have enough medication to take with me on my upcoming travels. My psychiatrist wrote me a note this morning to explain my many bottles of pills (they all have to be in their original containers) in case they get me held up at the airport.

Medication is a huge topic which I would like to introduce merely with a quote today. It is from The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression by Andrew Solomon, the very best book I’ve read on depression.

“Since I am writing a book about depression, I am often asked in social situations to describe my own experiences, and I usually end by saying that I am on medication.

“Still?” people ask. “But you seem fine!” To which I invariably reply that I seem fine because I am fine, and that I am fine in part because of medication.

“So how long do you expect to go on taking this stuff?” people ask. When I say that I will be on medication indefinitely, people who have dealt calmly and sympathetically with the news of suicide attempts, catatonia, missed years of work, significant loss of body weight, and so on stare at me with alarm.

“But it’s really bad to be on medicine that way,” they say. “Surely now you are strong enough to be able to phase out some of these drugs!” If you say to them that this is like phasing the carburetor out of your car or the buttresses out of Notre Dame, they laugh.

“So maybe you’ll stay on a really low maintenance dose?” They ask. You explain that the level of medication you take was chosen because it normalizes the systems that can go haywire, and that a low dose of medication would be like removing half of your carburetor. You add that you have experienced almost no side effects from the medication you are taking, and that there is no evidence of negative effects of long-term medication. You say that you really don’t want to get sick again. But wellness is still, in this area, associated not with achieving control of your problem, but with discontinuation of medication.

“Well, I sure hope you get off it sometime soon,” they say.

So as I travel to visit family and a best friend over the next two weeks, I will take my medications with me. I will take them everywhere with me until the day I die because they simply keep me alive. I am very grateful.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to us!! To Daisiesandbruises.com. Woo! One year old.

And as promised, my blog layout is updated with many new features including an updated photo, a sidebar that’s much more fun, and a drop down menu at the top of the page. I’m actually going to be tinkering with things for a bit still, so it’s not written in stone, but that’s the internet for you. Some of the new features:

My Art, hosting pages on my visual art and my poetry.

Inspirations, featuring a list of books and a page of quotes that will be updated frequently.

In the past year I was invited to speak at a few events after readers came across my blog, so there’s now a Hire Me page to answer some of the questions surrounding that stuff. On the same page, if you scroll down, you’ll find testimonials from my awesome readers, a list I visit frequently since behind the scenes I get cold feet and worry that my words have no impact. You have convinced me of my worth.

In the next week or so I will be adding some advertising banners for you to put on your own site if you feel inclined, as well as that “ask me” box that I’ve mentioned wanting to do before. I want readers to be able to ask me questions anonymously to feel safe and secure and heard all at once.

And we now have a Facebook page! Follow along there to be notified of posts, snag some freebies and further inspiration.

So, here’s to sharing more of myself with you, risking stalkers and spammers and the like. If I can’t always share myself face-to-face in this world, the least I can do is have a presence online. Baby steps.

Anyway, I’m super excited to share this with you. Can you tell?! You know I’m not usually this happy. I only have you to thank!!

Cheers to entering the second year of daisiesandbruses.com. We’re in this together.

A Sign for My Window

Life feels dark and directionless today. The weather can’t be helping, cold and blowing, rain hissing down from the sky. I feel like a sitting duck, waiting for disaster, which I know is ridiculous. I create my life. Mental illness affects it but I can choose positive thinking to get myself through today. But it’s hard with the sky so dark.

Every once in a while, life brings someone into my life that helps me see the sun. Someone breathes life into my veins and shows me that there’s a lot out there in the world, a lot of goodness that can be trusted. Then life takes that person away and I question whether they existed in the first place. It’s hard to believe in the good when it leaves so little evidence.

But I contradict myself again. There is evidence of good in the world, as I talked about in my last post. I just have to get there and hang on until I do. My problem is that there are so many people around me that are tired of life as well. There are so many of us straining for something better.

I read a quote this week, adding it to my one hundred and fifty page collection that grounds me when no one else can:

[My best tip for overcoming depression is] to regard it as being like the weather. It’s not your responsibility that it’s raining, but it is real when it rains, and the fact that it’s raining does not mean that the rain is never going to stop. The only thing to do is to believe that, one day, it won’t be raining and accept it so you can find a mental umbrella to shield yourself from the worst. The sun will eventually come up.

-          Stephen Fry

Maybe I should make a sign for my window that the sky can read and be reminded that some of us down here have had too much rain. DEAR SUN, PLEASE RETURN TO MY LIFE. AND WHEN YOU COME BACK, DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE AGAIN. At least stick around long enough for me to dry off and warm up and sit in peace.

I feel myself in my own way. My self-talk is bad and my self-esteem is worse. Hence my lack of blog posts lately. And then, of course, I beat myself up over that.

Isolation is always a trap for me. I fall into it so easily since I adore doing solitary things like reading and writing and doing art. It felt like my connection with the world was falling away piece by piece and then I got the flu, so all the events I was looking forward to got crossed off my calendar. Now I feel like I have nothing to pick back up.

The solution is there: Go, don’t think, just go and do it and live. Or at least, write.

Hands Behind the Wheel

This weekend I worked for my dad behind a booth at a local car show. During one of my breaks I walked around the exhibits, checking out restored gems from decades ago alongside some newer cars brought in by local dealers. I slid into a BMW Mini Cooper convertible, shut the door, put my hands on the wheel and felt something I rarely ever feel: desire.

New people tune in to my blog every day, so if you’re a new reader, I’ll fill you in on a few points: I love cars and love to drive, but I crashed my car last summer. Now my insurance will be too high for me to afford to drive, since I could barely afford it before the accident.

Cars symbolize freedom and control. For almost a year now I’ve had nightmares about crashing my car, the last dream being two nights ago. It’s a pretty mild recurring nightmare of mine, compared to the others, but I think it’s symbolic my whole life being out of control. Yet despite the nightmares, I still felt desire when I sat in my dream car. I was so close to being able to drive that car, yet still so far away.

Desire has one key emotion behind it: hope. I sat in that car and my heart said, “I want this.” My brain was spewing its usual chatter: “You’re broke as hell and will never be able to afford insurance again, let alone a car.” Yet my heart didn’t listen. It told me that I could have that car just like anyone else could.

Deep down I feel like I don’t deserve to have the few things I do want. After all, who would I take for a drive in a new car? I don’t have many friends, I don’t have a boyfriend, I don’t have anyone to go visit. My self talk is terrible!

I catch myself disbelieving I could even get a job, save up money, and maybe one day buy that car for myself. As if fate would put its foot down and say, NO!! ERIN CAN’T HAVE IT! SHE DOESN’T DESERVE IT!

Um, no. No one gives a shit whether or not I have that car. It’s up to me.

Lately I’ve felt stuck. Like I’m waiting for the world to notice that I’m missing and invite me back into it instead of taking responsibility for myself. Getting up, dusting myself off, and putting myself back out there. Arguably, I could say that I’m doing all right – after all, I did work all weekend and talked to hundreds of strangers. I made money, I was “out there.” Yet I always leave feeling empty. Maybe it’s my depression, maybe I’m not in my element. It could be a thousand things.

We all get lost once in a while, sometimes by choice, sometimes due to forces beyond our control. When we learn what it is our soul needs to learn, the path presents itself. Sometimes we see the way out but wander further and deeper despite ourselves; the fear, the anger or the sadness preventing us returning. Sometimes we prefer to be lost and wandering, sometimes it’s easier. Sometimes we find our own way out. But regardless, always, we are found.

Cecelia Ahern, A Place Called Here

I did feel “found” a few months ago but it didn’t last. I am trying my best to hang on to that feeling but it’s hard work.

What do you do when you feel lost? How much of it is in our control? How much of it is depression? How much of it is our soul-sucking economy? How much is it isolation and deprivation?

I need a shortcut, a way out. I feel like the world must be full of opportunities or else everyone around me wouldn’t be getting by as well as they are. Maybe my antennae are broken and I just can’t feel out the good like I’m supposed to. Actually, I KNOW that’s my problem. Depression is losing touch with the good in our lives. I just feel like I’ve been working my way through it for nothing.

Sure I want a new car, but it’s more than that. I want my hands behind the wheel, I want power and control and safety. I want freedom. I want fuel to burn as I drive towards a destination that I’ve dreamed about.

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