Why am I telling this story? It’s simple. There are so many simple ways to find joy. I know when you are down, it can seem to be a monumental task to even start the littlest project. I just hope you find some inspiration here so you aren’t stuck (Like I was) in a dark place.
I have so much fun spending time with a toddler. When I was a young mother, I didn’t have as much patience as I do now. And anyone who has spent time with a toddler knows patience is key to success.
When my girls were young, I always enjoyed doing fun projects with them. And when we had many rainy days recently, I knew I needed to come up with something to make waking up in the morning an exciting activity for a two-year old. I had no idea how successful this little project would be.
Taking lima beans, the kind you buy dried at the grocery store, and placing them between wet paper towels, my little guy and I, placed them in ziploc bags and put them in a dark place. Within the next week or so, the beans sprouted roots. Our next step was to plant the seeds into tiny pots.
My guy’s job was to water them everyday. It was always the first thing he wanted to do. And when they spouted above the soil, there was so much excitement in the house. Now it is time to replant them into a large pot and have them climb a tomato cage.
And as the plants grow towards the son, you too can find the light in your life.
I haven’t been posting because as my anger and bitterness has lessened (most of the time), I find I’m not sure what to write. I’ve used writing for so long to express my darkest feelings, now that I don’t feel so dark on the inside, it seems I don’t have much to say.
That alone bothers me. Who only has negative things to say and nothing positive or upbeat? Who goes through each day neither sad nor happy? Who has flat emotions?
I’ve asked my doctor to wean off my anti-depressant because I think after being on it for four years, it has dulled my emotions. I don’t necessarily feel sad, but neither do I feel happy or joy. Even the birth of my first grandson feels flat and not as exciting or emotionally moving as I expected.
Does anyone else struggle with having no emotions?
New Year’s Eve reference above.
I enjoy following people on Instagram. It gives me a peek into lives all over the world. Some of Instagramers are exceptional photographers. I love following the bakers and drooling over their desserts. I follow seamstresses whose creations are so incredible it’s difficult for me to wrap my head around the fact someone made them.
I’ve never done anything really well. I have friends who are excellent cooks, a friend who is an artist. I’ve got a friend who makes incredible things from beads. My sister is an outstanding teacher. My mother creates beautiful cards. There is the friend whose garden looks like it’s from the pages of a magazine. Or my friend who loves on a small farm while working as a dentist. My oldest daughter sings like an angel and my youngest is creative. She writes, does photography, graphic art designs and blogs. The list goes on and on.
Me? Nothing. Nada. Rien. Zilch. Zero. You get the idea. All I do well is depression which doesn’t create the life I want. My nightmares have returned which causes serious sleep disturbances.
I’d love to know what you do well? Where do you exceed average? Are you a successful business person? An artist? Unusually creative? A baker? A great cook? Gardner? Great at explaining faith in a way people can understand? A writer? Please share because I’d love know.
Why do I keep failing? Why do we share different memories? Why do we fail to understand how our words and actions hurt those we love? Why am I invisible? Never to be fully seen? Why do rub those I love the wrong way? Why do I feel so unloved and so unnecessary? Like a fly swatted away? A nuisance and nothing more? Why do the two people I love most in the world fail to understand how much I need them and their encouragement and to know they have good memories they made with me?
The darkness is coming for me again.
I am an addict. I love books and journals. Walking past a bookstore and not going in takes a tremendous amount of willpower. I’ve learned to use the library to save money but sometimes you just have to give in. I ordered #52happylists and #52listsprojects by @mooreaseal #mooreaseal because I have struggled with the idea I can be happy again.
I know it’s just a matter of refocusing but having my supportive friends living thousands of miles away has made it difficult. I’ve wandered and not been able to stay hopeful that my life will change for the better. I know if you read my blog, you understand how depressed I’ve been.
I read about the The 52 lists for Happiness on a Psychology Twitter feed and thought why not. I ordered them on #amazon and as a #amazonprime member, I paid no shipping costs. The challenge now is to stay on task and fill out each list so hope and happiness return. Thanks #sasquatchbooks for publishing them.
I am going to try an experiment. Does writing my depressive thoughts encourage my depression to stay? I’ve made an old blog visible and for the rest of October, I am going to write only positive things and see if this helps my state of mind.
So I am asking my LifeRewritten followers to follow me at A Fresh New Life and find out if I get an answer when my experiment is finished.
An impediment to moving forward. Why do I feel it’s not possible to be happy and relaxed? Is it because I believe I don’t deserve to be happy? Am I not worthy of happiness? Is it I don’t know what happiness is so I don’t recognize it? I know I’ve felt and experienced happiness before but now, for the past several years beginning in 2009, my ability to be happy has eluded me.
I see other people. I can feel their joy. I can sense their satisfaction with life. They are relaxed and have fun. I feel wound up so tightly that it’s impossible to move for fear I’ll break or snap.
Is there a secret? A secret to letting go of the worry, always worried what people think of me? A secret to just enjoy the moment? I know I’ve missed so much since 2009. Time we can never reclaim. I don’t want to waste anymore moments which could possible hold joy and happiness.
That’s me, the square peg who has tried for more than 50 years to fit in a round hole. I’ve never been able to make it work. And now living in a place forced upon me by financial poverty, I find it’s even more difficult to fit in.
I don’t think it’s impossible for me to have whittled and carved myself so I would fit into a round hole but in order to do that, I would have needed an idea of what I was supposed to be. As I’ve said before I never really dreamed of being anything except a wife, mother, mother-in-law and eventually grandmother.
It’s as though I’m lost in a great wide ocean just drifting about with no place to drop anchor. I can’t drift forever but I belong nowhere. There is no place for me to fit in or call home anymore.