Probably. I’m for sure depressed, which is tending to make me definitely more an asshole than a sweet-tempered, good-hearted, kind and empathetic human being looking out for others and being considerate moment-to-moment. I do wish I’d recognized that I had become depressed before I had become an asshole. My results most definitely vary. The tools in my toolkit feel inadequate. This bit of emotional weather is rough. Stormy. Gray skies. Rain. It’s nasty.
I’m fortunate to have my Traveling Partner by my side, although I don’t like being yelled at over being an asshole. Once the conversation eventually got around to the whys and the wherefores, and recognition of my depression developed, for me and for him, we at least found some kind of equilibrium – a point of understanding to work from constructively. Helpful. Still unpleasant.
What I’m saying is this is a very human experience. I’m as human as anyone. The chaos and damage have won this round, but I’m still in the ring, still getting back up to go another round. Fuck depression. Fuck anxiety too. Fuck nightmares. Fuck sorrow and grief. Fuck trauma and lingering damage. All of this terrible shit is also so endlessly human. Will I be okay? Hell, I’m mostly okay now – I’m just struggling with a tremendous lot of “second arrow” suffering and yes, mental illness.
I breathe, relax. Drink water. Take my meds. Begin again.
I am sipping my first coffee. It’s quite late in the morning on a Sunday. Feels like a lazy day, but I’m in the studio, after a lovely walk on a misty morning. The marsh trail is closed for the season. The all-year trail is still open, and quite lovely. The trees are wearing Autumn colors, and the migrating flocks of birds entertained me with their murmurations as the dawn became day.
Walking Autumn trails.
My Traveling Partner is in his creative space, printing parts, re-assembling a 3D printer, and doing his thing. I’m in my studio, in a similarly creative mental space. This morning my head is filled with art and meaning, connections and inspiration. I am thinking about the past – and the future. I am listening to music that connects those elements of my life in an entertaining way; Cyberpunk. This Billy Idol album came out in 1993 – well-before I had a computer on my desk, myself. I had read my share of William Gibson, of course, but pc’s were not yet commonplace and “smartphone” wasn’t even a word yet. I had yet to form the future friendships that would come to rely on internet connectivity to sustain them over time. Listening to Cyberpunk now, it has a lot of peculiarly prescient elements that now seem almost mundane and just a little “so what?” I find that quite interesting. It remains one of my “forever favorite” albums. My favorite track? Probably Adam in Chains… I think back on “that time”, and find myself wondering how I didn’t “pick up on” the value of mindfulness and a serious meditation practice then…? How did it take me so long to get here? I remember listening to Adam in Chains with my headphones on, or alone at home with the stereo cranked up, stressed to a breaking point, drifting deeper into a meditative state following the flow of the music…finding temporary peace. It wasn’t a practice, just a moment.
…Listening now, it lifts me and lifts me, and I feel a wholeness and contentment and joy, although the lyrics and music are not of a happy place or time…
I could have come farther, faster, sooner if I had made the connection, perhaps… It’s a complicated journey. I took some detours and some dead-end paths. I’m not even sure I regret those, knowing what I know now; it’s been a life well-lived. There’s no knowing which small detail, changed, would change all the rest. Would I give up even one friendship formed later to have healed sooner? I don’t think that’s a choice I’d want to make. If finding mental health, wellness, and emotional stability would have come sooner, but at the cost of never making the acquaintance of my Traveling Partner…? Would I have chosen sanity over love? I don’t know that I would, given a chance to make an informed choice. Love is pretty splendid.
Art inspired by life, new work in progress waiting for attention.
I tinker while I sip coffee and write. I pause the music when my Traveling Partner pops in to show me newly printed parts from the new 3D printer – pretty amazing stuff, and I delight in both the quality of the results and his obvious satisfaction. I re-connect the Bluetooth antenna to my desktop computer in order to pair the Cricut; it’s a pain in the ass to balance my laptop on my knees in the studio, when I could be using my desktop computer for the design work so much more conveniently, and it’s been holding me back a bit. The beat pounds in my ears as I type. My coffee is still warm, and well-prepared. It’s a good day for art and play and love – I feel inspired.
Do more of that. No kidding. If you’ve something that gives you joy, delights you, provides you with comfort, satisfies you, and lights you up from within – do more of that. I’m just saying… if it makes you happy, do that. Or not. You can choose misery if you’re more comfortable with it…
…Maybe take your chances on something that feels good in a healthy way…?
I’m sitting here thinking about lessons learned, what feels good, what brings me joy, and the temptations in life that seem like they bring me joy – but come at a high cost. (Looking your way, gummy candy!) In this particular moment, I’m giving some thought to my health, and the consequences of snacking on goblin treats as the Hallowe’en holiday approached. It really wasn’t good for me. Quite a reminder, though, and I am making a point to not do that now, and to drink more water, and thinking ahead to a walk later; this is a fragile vessel, and one mortal life seems barely enough for all the things I’d still like to do. I can do a better job at taking care of this meat sack while I reside in it. lol
Making good choices requires both discernment between what merely feels good in the moment and those things that have more lasting (healthy) value – and being willing to make the hard choice. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes I need help. You, too? There’s real value in sharing the journey when it’s difficult. I think about my Traveling Partner, and his willingness to share his own struggles. He patiently tells me (again) when I drift toward unhealthy meals, reminds me what he likes, what works, what leaves us both feeling healthy and nourished. (Damn, dinner last night was so good!) I sit with my thoughts awhile, feeling loved. I’m fortunate to have found in him a friend as well as a lover. He’s not perfect – neither of us is, and we’re more alike than not, which is weird in spots. lol
…A wave of subtle sadness and nostalgia washes over me as the day breaks to a gray cloudy sky. I let my playlist put my feelings into words. It’s already time to begin again.
It’s late in the afternoon, on a Sunday… one might even call it “early evening”. The light is beginning to fade after a sunny Autumn day. I’m home alone – a rare treat – and enjoying a few minutes with my feet up. I’d undertaken what seemed to be a pleasant afternoon of … “crafting”? I guess that’s a good word for it… I’ve got our Cricut moved into the studio to get started on holiday cards… once I learn the machine. My Traveling Partner had spent a couple days “tuning up” the 3D printer, and moments before he left for a thing he’s attending this evening, he tempted me to start a couple 3D prints “if I want to”. Let’s be clear; I don’t know 3D printing. I have barely mastered the basics of clicking the right buttons to start a print, how to keep an eye on the machine remotely, and how to gently remove a completed print and prepare the bed for the next one. So… my thoughts that I’d “make a couple cards”, finish the book I’m reading, and maybe watch a couple videos… yeah. Turned out those were some grand fucking plans even before the addition of a little 3D printing. LOL
…I slowed down, took things a thing at a time, and stayed patient with myself…
I spent some time trouble-shooting the blue tooth connection for the Cricut. This is a cool little cutting machine that is sometimes dismissed as a crafter’s tool, or something “easy”. I chuckled to myself at my own frustration; it’s too easy to assume something is easy because it’s small and cute and manageable-seeming. The Cricut Explore Air 2 sitting in my studio is a proper little CNC machine, just small, light-weight, and purpose-built for some craft-y things. It’s still a legit computer-controlled cutting machine. The software is still relatively complex, and there’s a learning curve. I am embracing the challenges, watching tutorials, trying things out. I’ve got a lot to learn.
Like a lot of things, it’s not as easy at it looks. lol
Similarly, the 3D printer is pretty amazing. I’m printing a selection of fun (flat) snowflakes that will become ornaments… maybe. LOL Here, too, there is a lot to learn before I can ever say I “know how to use the 3D printer”. So much to learn. The machine. The software.
It’s a snowflake. I needed the win. lol
…It’s tempting to oscillate between “fuck this” levels of frustration and foolish assumptions about how “easy” any this will be, with either of these machines… like it or not; there’s plenty to learn, and I am a long long way from “mastery”. I’m not even fighting it. I make mistakes, seek to understand where I went wrong, and go back to the tutorials. Distractions – even simple things like the laundry, or a delivery, or the other fucking machine, throw me off and it’s back to the beginning. Having a brain injury slows me down learning new things. I do my best to account for that. My original plan focused on just one of these machines; it would have been wise to stay on that path. LOL I planned wisely, and executed poorly.
…I got excited about new things and cool machines…
Still… I did get the Cricut connected (to my laptop). I am actually printing snowflakes on the 3D printer. I have made my first cuts with the Cricut (and promptly tossed those into the trashcan, because I definitely messed them up completely with commonplace dumb-ass-ery, and distractions) and tried a more successful piece of work using the Cricut to draw a complicated design onto card stock using fun gel pens, which satisfied me more than it probably should, since it is also … not quite right. lol
…And I’m almost done with the laundry…
It’s a good afternoon. Educational. Fun. Rewarding. Relaxing. Hilarious. None of my mistakes have done any damage or any harm, and the worst of them has resulted only in a bit of wasted craft material. The price I am paying for this “seminar” is being paid in wasted paper and well-spent time. lol I’m enjoying myself.
Now, it’s time for a cup of tea, and some quiet time letting what I’ve learned seep into my recollection for later. Soon enough it’ll be time to begin again. 😀
I was walking a dark trail before dawn on a foggy misty morning and came upon a solitary woman, also walking. As she approached me in the mist, I recognized her stride and her visage; she appeared to me to be some timeless other version of myself. She walked easily, neither young nor aged. Her steps were as confident as if it were fully daylight, relaxed and easy. She wore faded denim jeans that fit her well , and a knee length wool coat which she wore open, over a white cotton blouse. She wasn’t lean or heavyset, but wore womanly curves over muscle I knew must be there; she radiated strength. In fact, she had a subtle glow, as if illuminated from within.
As we approached each other on the path she looked me over. No laugh lines defined her expression, no frown lines distorted her gaze. She had a certain eternal seeming calm, marred by a slightly world-weary smile, barely hinted at, and a tired look in her eyes. She halted her progress and took an easy seat on a fence rail as I neared her, watching me.
As I drew closer, I realized she was carrying a thermos of something steaming hot, though I hadn’t seen it in her hand before. She nodded at me and extended the other hand in my direction; a paper coffee cup. “Coffee?” She asked in a voice very much familiar to me. I accepted the offer silently. It didn’t seem the time to speak.
We sat side by side on the fence rail in the predawn mist. She set down the thermos, or so I figured must have been the case, and began picking out a poignant tune on a guitar I hadn’t noticed her carrying. “Destination”, I said. “You know it?”, she asked without looking up. “The Church”, I replied, “1988?” I wondered out loud. She smiled back and played on, humming softly as if trying to remember something. “… It’s not a religion, it’s just a technique…” she sang, softly, looking into my eyes. She played on, as we sat waiting for the dawn.
The song, and my memories, unfolded as the sky began to lighten ever so slightly. Shapes in the mist began to be more defined. “It’s like the theme from Mahogany, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile, “an important question wants an answer.” I turned to answer her…
In the pale gray mist of dawn, I sat alone on a fence rail, chilly fingers jammed into the pockets of my faded denim jeans. The world was silent around me. I listened to the music in my head and slow tears slid down my face.
I woke from a sound sleep and my strange dream when the room brightened with my silent alarm. It was morning. Not yet dawn. I dressed and headed out for a walk on a misty foggy morning, without a clear destination, alone with my thoughts. .
Evening Light 