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.
When I went through my preteen and teenage years, I found it utterly ridiculous that girls had mad crushes on actors and singers. Buying TeenBeat Magazine, putting posters on their walls all seemed a waste of time. I didn’t scream at concerts or get butterflies if I thought I’d see someone famous. Did I miss something? I think I did. The idea of dreaming and longing and believing in something wonderful like love with a music star, no matter how unlikely it was, brought joy and excitement to many girls’ lives. I spent too much of my time just worrying about fitting in. I find it so interesting that now, of all times in my life, I have a mad teenage crush on a book character/actor. Of course I realize he is fictional and the actor is too young and famous, to ever be a reality, but it’s enabled be to dream a little and believe a little that there is the possibility of love again.
Aidan Turner as Ross Poldark on Masterpiece Theater/BBC
Today I went to Walker Honey Farm for their Fall Festival and Farmer’s Market. It was a wonderful way to spend my Saturday morning. They make honey products including Mead. If you don’t know what mead is this link will give you the information you need. Brewery:Mead This information is taken from their website.
The History and Tradition of Mead
Mead is a honey-based fermented beverage that has been produced and enjoyed since before the dawn of recorded history. Because of its antiquity, mead has acquired an almost magical reputation in our mythologies. For example, the term “honeymoon” is intertwined with the custom of drinking honey-based mead for a month (moon) after the wedding; this practice was said to ensure baby boys. Mead making was once the province of a select, trained guild. Now, it is open to all who have the patience and skill. You are continuing this long and honored tradition. Welcome, aboard and enjoy.
I tried regular mead, raspberry mead, and blackberry mead. They were all delicious. Before leaving I bought some marinade/salsa and some homegrown tomatoes.
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.
“We have to live our own lives. We have to give freedom to those we love.” Ross Poldark in Angry Tide by Winston Graham
Ross makes this comment as he and his wife leave their children behind as they head to London. Demelza is sad upon leaving the children at home and Ross reminds her that before she knows it the children will be leaving her.
As a parent we all must face the moment when we know our children are adults and independent. It’s bittersweet because you want them to grow up, live their lives and be happy but you will forever miss your babies. I think that is one reason as a parent it is sometimes difficult to step back when they are adults and let them find their way. In our eyes they are still our babies. As a mother there is always this overwhelming desire you fight to keep them children.
I always knew my children would grow up and go out on their own, making their way in the world. What I never thought about was the first statement Ross makes. We have to live our own lives. I forgot in those years as a mother and wife I needed to make a life of my own separate from them. It is even more true now that I am divorced. I never thought about being anyone other than a wife and mother. It is much more challenging than I anticipated to find my own way in the world. I feel like the one who has had adulthood thrust upon her unexpectedly.
I know my passion but the question is can I make a living? Can I support myself? Do I have the discipline needed to focus and make it work? That is yet to be determined
I don’t know if you can tell from the photo but I’ve been sleeping on a very small and uncomfortable sofa for the last two days. I helped move my daughter to the LA area. I helped load the truck. I drove the truck and then helped carry boxes up to the second floor apartment. Thankfully she moved no furniture.
Without going into details the room she’s subletting and the apartment were filthy. She said, “Mom, how can people live like this?” I don’t know but working as a real estate agent a few years ago, I learned never to be surprised what was behind closed doors. So rather than unload the truck first thing, the next few hours were spent making the room clean enough to even begin. Once we unloaded the truck, I thought I had been hit by a semi. I don’t remember the last time I ached so much.
Then we ran a few errands including buying paint. When we returned I promptly set about painting the orange and blue room a soft gray. More unpacking and cleaning, finally crashing about midnight on the sofa.
The next day we made an IKEA stop, along with half of LA followed by Walmart then we set about assembling a bookcase. The room needed more cleaning. A lot was accomplished including cleaning, cleaning and more cleaning. Hopefully we will finish up today because I fly out of LAX this evening.
Maybe it’s the physical, emotional and mental fatigue which has caused the nightmares to return. They not only make for a poor night’s sleep but I awake feeling depressed and disheartened. I return to spend another week with my family and will go to chemo on Thursday. I will manage to see three high school friends before my cat and I hit the road again for two long days.
There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my daughters as long as I am able to help. I no longer have the ability to help financially even with anything small need. I wonder if their father, who acts as those they were never born, realizes he is missing out on the lives of two incredible women and the love of the three of us. Praying the nightmares leave so I don’t wake up feeling so down.
The first step in finding a solution is to identify the problem. I’ve identified the problem: fear of being happy and enjoying myself. I can see it so clearly now when I look at photos. Somewhere along the way, I accepted there was a barrier keeping me from happiness and the ability to just enjoy life.
I accepted I was someone who wasn’t meant to have fun, enjoy my life and just relax and live in the moment. Oh I’m sure with enough time, money and therapy an expert could tell me why I believe such a lie. I don’t care why, but I do want a solution.
Does anyone else suffer from this same problem? Does anyone else feel like they are on the outside looking in? Does anyone else hold back from truly living for fear of being judged or ridiculed? Have you found a solution? If so, I’d love hear how you broke through. I don’t want to waste another day on the outside looking in.
Some of you might be asking why? Saying to yourself it’s the way I keep up with my friends. How would I know what’s going on in their lives? My response is simple, Facebook is impersonal. It’s information at a distance. It’s like standing and peering through a telescope at a scenic view. You can see it better but not truly experience it because you are too far away.
Friendship, true friendship is about connection. Connection through a phone call, a letter, a visit. What started out essentially as a site for college students to connect so they could date, has become a public brag book or a place to beg for sympathy. I’ve been guilty of both.
Our society pits us against each other. All you have to do is spend a little time watching television. Between commercials which tell us we can out do our neighbors with the right car, better paint (yes, paint), the better body, faster car etc. and Facebook plastered with all our “friends” successes most of us come away feeling inadequate. We’ve been put on a never ending treadmill chasing meaningless things. Facebook gives power to comparison. As we all know photos can be manipulated and they do not tell the entire story. A picture is no longer worth a 1,000 words anymore. It’s only worth a I’m better than you or feel sorry for me.
Facebook gave me the ability to sit on the sidelines of life. I didn’t have to actually connect with my friends and they could feel they were being supportive by a quick comment. No need to actually pick up the phone. How does a person actually have 800 friends? I’ve have made more progress with my depression since I’ve removed Facebook from my life.
I haven’t exited social media completely. I blog. I have a Twitter and Instagram account. I just have chosen to no longer have a Facebook account.
I love Instagram. I see photos from all over the world taken by everyday people. There are lakes, mountains, cafés, flowers, old buildings, hotels, boats, dogs, cats, interesting people and so much more. Sadly I am currently stuck living in a place which offers dead fields, flat land, Walmart, McDonald’s, uncared for homes and not much more.
My heart cries out because it’s not home. I want to go home but I no longer have a home. I am alone with no one. Although one daughter is here with her husband, they have a life and are not responsible for me. I haven’t been able to motivate myself to reengage in life these past three and half years. Nightmares have returned to haunt me.
Nothing has changed. Nada.