First Sign?

Good news! A flock of Starlings landed in the tree next door. These would be called "Spring" starlings as their beaks are turning yellow, which is what happens when Spring is a-comin'!!!

Thinking and Doing

Long time, no blog. The lazy juices are flowing, while the creative waters lie still. Even some guilt is surfacing with this, which is simply ridiculous. Guilt is a useless emotion. Those that ARE guilty - your Charles Mansons and such - seem to have no guilt monster looming in their minds, while your average people like myself or possibly you, will feel guilty about the most minor things. Does this make any sense? No. But not much does, does it?

Why is it that sometimes (like today), I can be sitting in my 72 degree living room watching TV, and feel so cold that I have to bundle up under blankets? But then, on a 72 degree day OUTSIDE, I am wearing shorts and a T-shirt?

Anyways. I think I have not written in a while because things are going really well for me. And I think if I write about it, maybe I will jinx it. I am now working 6 hours a day and next week I go back to full time. It has been going really well. I have had only minor anxiety and when I have had it, I have dealt with it very well.

So what have I been doing to get better? Two things, I think. Thinking and Doing.

Thinking: I have been reading a book that was recommended to me called "You Can Heal Your Life" by Louise Hay. Now honestly, I am so sick of self help books. I stopped buying them a few years ago. This one I happened to buy a few years ago, then never read. So now I am giving in and reading ONE more self help book. And you know what, it's actually changing my life. The book is mainly about changing your thinking patterns. Most of us think negatively and were taught to do so very young. Even though I may not appear to be so, I am a very negative thinker - mostly about myself. It's easy to think positively about other people. But I realized the things I was telling myself on a daily basis were so detrimental. I say things like - you're such an idiot, I can't believe you did that, you look like crap, you're crazy, you're weak and you'll never amount to anything!

This book has taught me that how we think, is how we will experience. Feeling comes from thinking. If I continually berate myself and insult myself, how will I experience my life? How will I feel about myself and my life? Pretty crappy, right? So I am consciously trying to change the way I think. If I catch myself speaking negatively, I stop it immediately and replace it with something positive. It sounds goofy as hell but it's the only way to retrain your brain. I'm also trying to change the way I think about things and situations. I have been working very hard on changing my thinking about winter. I make winter out to be so much more dreary and scary even than it really is. Every time I think about winter or what it's like outside, I change my negative ideas to positive ones. This doesn't mean I'm going to LOVE winter with all my heart. But, I can learn to tolerate it better and not dread it so much. Today there was a snowstorm. Normally the night before I would worry about it. I would be nervous about the drive, be nervous while at work and not relaxed til I got home again. Last night I just said - whatever! It's going to snow! Big deal! It's nothing. Driving will be fun and I am perfectly capable of driving safely in the snow. And you know what? I had zero anxiety about the snow. A month ago I would have been worrying and dreading and making myself crazy. Today was a good day - even during a snowstorm!

Doing: Put simply, instead of sitting around thinking about how horrible the winter is, I'm getting out and doing things...I'm seeing people. I even went dancing last weekend! The more I sit alone in my house doing nothing, the more I think and the thinking turns negative. Not to say that I don't like spending quiet time alone, but if I'm being a hermit, things are going to go downhill fast.

Actually, I noticed an interesting thing last weekend. Friday when I got out of work until Sunday morning were great! I had fun, I did things, I saw friends...it was wonderful. On Sunday, I started to get nervous. When I sat and thought about WHY, it was BECAUSE I had had such a good weekend. I hadn't had any anxiety. When was the bomb going to drop??? I realized that when I enjoy myself, I feel as though I have to PAY FOR IT somehow...and I guess the way I pay is through anxiety. Anxiety is my punishment for ....what? Living my life? Having fun? I do it to myself. For some reason I think I don't deserve it. And that just brings me back to the negative things I say to myself. It's NOT true that I don't deserve it! That's bullshit!! I deserve to have friends and to have fun and to LIVE. And that's what I'm gonna do!

Walk in the Woods

These were taken today on a walk at Lake Massabesic. When I got to the farthest point I was going to walk to and was turning around to head back, I started to panic. I have no idea why. I was not thinking of anything stressful or worrying. It just happened. So all the way back to my car I said "I'm ok, I'm ok, I'm ok" about 2,000 times...and - it worked! I AM ok!

Words

My boyfriend is very concerned about the types of books I read. He worries they are too depressing and will bring me down. But what is the point in reading a chipper story that a typical human cannot relate to? I am in agreement with the philosophy of C.S. Lewis..."We read to know we are not alone." I tend toward books where the main character is suffering in some way; going through some kind of ordeal. Especially a mental ordeal - something I can relate to. But usually, when someone writes this kind of book, they show how the tormented dealt with their issues, managed to laugh along the way, and came out the other side. Usually these books are a testament to human strength, hope and endurance and how we often find support from unexpected people and places within ourselves.

In addition to books, I also find connection and comfort through certain song lyrics. Here is an example of a song that I relate to very much and gives me hope. I don't believe someone would have written this if they had not experienced it themselves, or known someone who had.

This is "It's Me" written by Paula Cole.

I am not the person who is singing. I am the silent one inside. I am not the one who laughs at people's jokes. I just pacify their egos. I am not my house, my car, my songs. They are only just stops along my way. I am like the winter. I'm a dark cold female. With a golden ring of wisdom in my cave.

And it is me who is my enemy. Me who beats me up. Me who makes the monsters. Me who strips my confidence.

I am carrying my voice. I am carrying my heart. I am carrying my rhythm. I am carrying my prayers.

But you can't kill my spirit. It's soaring and it's strong. Like a mountain I'll go on and on. But when my wings are folded,the brightly colored moth blends into the dirt into the ground.

And it's me who's too weak, and it's me who's too shy, to ask for the thing I love. And it's me who's too weak, and it's me who's too shy, to ask for the thing I love.

I am walking on the bridge. I am over the water, and I'm scared as hell but I know there's something better. Yes I know there's something better. Yes I know, I know, yes I know.

Smorgasbord

Yesterday I went back to work after being out for about 4 weeks. I'm going to work half days for 3 or 4 weeks and then go back to a full shift again. It went very well. I managed to not get too nervous beforehand. Instead of watching the morning news, I watched a program on sea horses. Those are wild little animals. The men are the ones that get pregnant. What a great idea!

So today for my second day I watched an animal show again. I decided that the news is so depressing (including the weather) that I would just ignore it altogether (or at least in the mornings). Of course, animal shows can be depressing too. They're always eating each other and getting caught in traps and starving to death. When the cheetah starts heading for the water buffalo I go do my hair. I don't think denial is such a bad thing. If we all thought about all the terrible things going on in the world, we'd all go insane. So I've decided to focus on the good stuff. Today's show was about giraffes. And I realized looking at them, that they kind of look like sea horses....just much larger and on land. I wonder if they're related somehow. So I've decided that I don't HAVE to watch news shows in the morning. It's not written anywhere, so I'm not going to do it. That way, as I go through my day, I'm pondering why some animals have soulful eyes and some don't. (example; I find many dogs to have soulful eyes but not Pomeranians!) This is much less stressful than trying to figure out why some guy killed some other guy over 50 bucks.

Last night I had a revelation that I'm sure is not a new thought to other people...but to me, it hit me over the head like a brick. I was outside shoveling (for many hours) and I realized something about Winter. I have been dreading winter and hating it and being fearful of it. Now granted there are some things you can't do in the winter; gardening, fishing (unless you want to ice fish), riding your bike. But I realized that the main thing that make me happy in life, still exists in winter; the love and laughter of family and friends. Certainly these things don't stop when the temperature drops. It just takes a little extra push to get out of your cave and connect. I realized that in winter I disconnect. Why? I don't want to drive in the snow. I don't want to get cold. I don't want to ask anyone to do anything because maybe THEY don't want to go out in the cold either. I certainly don't want to put anyone out. Well F that!!! I'm getting out baby. I'll put on my stupid looking hat with the ugly flaps to cover my ears and take a walk with a friend or meet for coffee or go to the movies. Anything but sit alone on my ass all day watching TV and feeling ALONE. Why FEEL alone when I am not? So ridiculous!

I also realized something else. (I'm on a roll). I have a terrible fear of vomiting. I believe it is at the core of all my fears. I know this is gross but I'm laying it all out there. I have spent the past 15 years freaking out of various things due to this fear. I've avoided traveling and going on boats. I've stayed home because I don't feel "quite right" and I'm afraid to be out because "what if I get sick?" Well, I haven't thrown up since I was 21. That's 18 years! Are you kidding me? I've been freaking out about something that almost never ever happens to me. What a waste of time. I know phobias can't disappear overnight but I'm really going to work on shutting this one down. It's been sucking up my life long enough and I need to do some real living before I'm out of time.

Well, that was quite a random mish-mash of things. I never said this was going to be too interesting or well written, but it's a good reminder for me. Next week when I'm hiding in my apartment because it's dark and cold and I don't feel so hot, I'm going to read this and remind myself of these things.... love knows no seasons, say NO to worrying about stupid crap and get out there and be with those that make life worthwhile.

Tub Diving

I was taking a bath one day and I got to thinking about the soap. It NEVER wants to stay on the built in shelf where it belongs. I'm always chasing it around and I feel as though it does not want to be caught. Then I got to thinking about Ivory soap and how it floats and can't hide like the other soaps can. Does it feel gypped?

The Dove

I am a cliff diver; a spelunker; a slippery sloped cowboy.
Whether low or high, my aim is always the same.
I’ll get by you; quietly without fanfare or announcement.
The watery depths are my desire.
Cloudy or clear or darkened by dirt.
Therein lies my freedom.

The other guy, doomed like a bride in a pure white dress.
Brainwashed; predisposed to follow my lead but unable to hide.
He tries, but will always fail. He will always rise to the surface and be caught.
Betrayed by the guile of his captors.
But always trying, ignorant of his built in deception.

I know my adventure will end.
But I am not without hope.
Exploring the depths is my joy and life.
Unlike him I will hide and elude.
I will lurk in the cracks and shades of massive thighs,
And play the game of hide and seek.
And though I will feel the grasp of the great hand from above
That comes for me each time.
I know tomorrow, I will plunge again into
The sea of warmth and freedom.

The art of understanding....art.

This week seemed about a month long. It started out badly. I just felt low and hopeless. On Wednesday I met with my doctor and we came up with a plan to get back to work. Since that meeting I've felt much better - much less like I'm hanging out in the Twilight Zone not knowing what the hell I'm doing. So I am ending the week with more hope and a feeling like I can conquer my fears and have a good and productive life. Maybe it's even time to dream a little - something I've never done. I'm thinking of planning a trip to Yosemite. It will give me something to work towards and to look forward to.

Today as part of my "getting out and pushing back the walls of agoraphobia plan" (otherwise known as GOPBWAP), I went to a local art museum. It's a pretty small place but good for a beginner like myself. The next step would be the Museum of Fine Art in Boston which maybe I'll do in the Spring.

I will admit right off that I know nothing about art. Zero. Tree pretty. Sky Blue.

They were having a special Andy Warhol exhibit. I don't GET Andy Warhol AT ALL. His - I don't know what to call them - paintings (??) ...... art (??) look to me like photographs that have been colored in - silk screened, I guess. These were not his soup can pictures but those of famous people; Mao Zedong, Ronald Reagan, and Jackie Kennedy to name a few. There were about 10 identical pictures of Mao...one with a yellow shirt, one with a blue shirt and so on. What do these pictures say? That Mao looks pretty in a full range of colors? I know I'm showing my ignorance here, but can anyone explain Andy Warhol to me? The only thing I find amazing about him is his hair - how did he do that before flat irons were invented?

Another thing about art that well, frightens me actually are the old paintings with children in them. The children always look like they have a little old man's head on their body...and not a nice little old man but a creepy old man like the preacher in Poltergeist 3. Did they not have the technique yet to paint a child's face?

Women were also painted strangely...actually a lot of them have man faces too. There was a painting of Helen of Troy who should be a vision of extreme loveliness. This woman had bug eyes, a caved in mouth and a man's face. Not to be cruel, but a war in her honor would have only been fought by those creepy guys in Deliverance. Definitely not whole countries. Yikes! My question is, did all the women really look like that back then, or did the painters only know how to paint male faces? Has the opinion of what's "beautiful" changed so much over the years?

My favorite painter is Maxfield Parrish. He had one painting at the museum and it was the most

beautiful one there, in my opinion. Definitely check him out. He does amazing things with light. This painting absolutely glowed as if there was some inner electricity at work. And it also managed to do something I think very difficult - make Winter look warm and inviting. Maybe if I see through the eyes of Maxfield Parrish, Winter won't be so hard to get through after all.