Right English by E

I used to think
in something other than English.
I used to write
with a hand other than my right.

But teachers at mi escuela my school
taught me the correct way
to think
sólo en ingles
sólo Eenglush
only in English
as they made me sit on my left hand
and put a fat pencil in my other one,
calmly refusing to believe
that the thick drunken
letters staggering across the
lines could be
better done if they’d only release
my captive hand
my captive mind.

Eventually I learned
to think and write The Language
crisply, with a surgeon’s precision.

Occasionally though,
I stare at my neglected left hand and
sometimes,
once in awhile,
I dream in Spanish
talking con mi abuelita.

Estoy comiendo arroz y frijoles.

Yo sueño con algun dia, hablar en mi primer lengua.

On Tuesday.

On Tuesday within an hour of reading a powerful and articulate poem written by my heartsib E, I read a status by my dear friend Robert on his Facebook where he said he was

going out to do more work on his flower beds. Hopefully no hillbillies scream out "faggot" today.

I will post E's poem at the end of this blog and separately as well. She spoke of being forced to write in English with her left hand when her spirit was left handed and Spanish. She introduces the poem when stating

I used to think

in something other than English.

Both authors are being labeled as other just for being their own beautiful selves. I try to imagine what it must be like to be informed on a deep and primal level every day that who I am in my essence is wrong and my heart is scraped raw for my friends. I am deeply angry with anything that negates who someone is based on a random criteria decided upon by a group of people who think they are justified in where they draw those rigid lines.

I can't even really express it I am so angry. And I'm just so sorry for my friends and for anyone who suffers this type of behavior.



Here is E's poem:

Right English

I used to think

in something other than English.
I used to write
with a hand other than my right.

But teachers at mi escuela my school
taught me the correct way
to think
sólo en ingles
sólo Eenglush
only in English
as they made me sit on my left hand
and put a fat pencil in my other one,
calmly refusing to believe
that the thick drunken
letters staggering across the
lines could be
better done if they’d only release
my captive hand
my captive mind.

Eventually I learned
to think and write The Language
crisply, with a surgeon’s precision.

Occasionally though,
I stare at my neglected left hand and
sometimes,
once in awhile,
I dream in Spanish
talking con mi abuelita.

Estoy comiendo arroz y frijoles.

Yo sueño con algun dia, hablar en mi primer lengua.

Feeling good about feeling good.

Between the new medication and moving to PEI, I am feeling pretty good these days. And it feels good to feel good.

No anxiety. Good sleeping. Productive during the day - Monday I didn't turn on the tv until after supper.

But I know not to push it. Easy way to rebound is to try and do too much when you first start feeling good. Best to get comfortable with it, let it settle through you until it becomes familiar and easy. I'm the only one of 4 adults in the house who doesn't work so I've been looking after making supper, doing laundry, keeping the litter box clean. Two of the three cats in the house are mine so it seemed appropriate to take over the litter box. Besides, it wouldn't sit right with me. They all work really hard and come home tired. Why should they have to do what I can easily do?

Part of me feels guilty for not working. But as good as I feel, I'm not quite that ready.

But I will be soon.

Darkness Lifting

I started this blog to chronicle my journey through bi-polar depression without thinking that when things get dark I wouldn't have the energy or motivation to post. And that is what has kept me from posting for so long.

The depression started getting quite bad and then the anxiety kicked in. You know that suck in your breath feeling you get when something startles you? That has been my state of being for the past month or so. I wasn't sleeping well. I wasn't being well. Eating also fell by the wayside. I had no appetite and when I did try to eat it made me nauseous. It was during this period that I really minded not having weed. Weed quells the anxiety and gives me an appetite. (In 2005 I was so sick I lost 60 pounds from not eating). You may not agree with smoking weed but for me it can be a lifesaver.

My days were marked only by the tv, the programs ticking off the day until I felt tired enough to go to bed. But I knew that the next morning I'd be awake by 5 no matter what time I went to bed. It was exhausting to live in that state of anxiety.

But last week I saw my Dr and he started me on Seroquel which is helping tremendously. I'm sleeping and my anxiety has come down significantly. It's still there but at a level that is manageable. I'm also eating again.

It's hard though to try and describe to you what those weeks were like. Dark. Hopeless. Meaningless. Terrifying. You feel like it will always feel like that and things will never get better. Finally it reaches a point where you don't even care anymore. Doing the simplest of things, like having a shower, became huge challenges. There didn't seem to be any point. I didn't leave the house at all except for my appointment with my Dr. I felt like I was just going to implode at any moment.

But as I said, things are getting better. Especially since Tom accepted a full time job offer - with benefits! - and we'll be moving to Prince Edward Island. I never wanted to come to the Miramichi and I'm glad to be leaving. The 'Chi has no diversity. Here I get followed as people gawk at my tattoos.

But I have a long road ahead. Depression breaks you into a million little pieces. It strips you of your self confidence. It erases your libido. Now I have to rebuild myself and that is exhausting. Poor Tom will be glad to see my libido come back. It's been 4 months. I'm just so tired of being broken over and over and I feel like each time I rebuild I lose pieces of myself that never quite come back. And I have to not think about the fact that this is my life. That I will get broken again and again and rebuild myself again and again. It sucks.

But I'm hanging in there despite the days when it seems like I'm free falling.

WE GOT THE REBATE!!!!

We actually slept last night after we found out we got the heating rebate woohoo! For once the system worked for us and not against us and they will be paying $550 on our power bill. We'll still have another big bill but it won't be anything like the $657 bill we got this month and right now we're grateful for any help. It was nice to actually sleep last night and not have the worry of whether or not we would get it hanging over our heads.

Also, my dear friend Eden got the book I'd crafted for her, it finally arrived and she loved it which made me happy. I love to craft for my friends and it's great when people appreciate what you've made them. Can you believe that not everyone likes hand crafted gifts? I usually craft Christmas presents, just because gifts and have found that many people think of hand made gifts as less than store bought gifts. I'd rather have a badly made something than a well made store bought anything. I remember years ago when my step mother had made her foray into tole painting. She made a beautiful serving tray and if you don't know anything about tole painting, it's very time intensive. She spent hours and hours on this piece and it was just beautiful. Debby is one of those amazing people who can just pick up any craft she is interested in and excel at it. She just blows me away. Anyway, she was so proud of this tray and the person she gave it too gave a cursory thanks and just stashed it away in a cupboard as I remember it. Debby was crushed and on her behalf I was livid. Don't get me wrong, people who craft don't expect parades, awards or huge acknowledgments but at the same time it's not hard to tell when someone doesn't really appreciate what you've done. And that's hard when you put your heart and soul into something.

But it's easy to tell when someone likes what you've made them and Eden I was overwhelmed by your response to my little gift. And it warmed me beyond measure that L liked it also.

So, today is a pretty good day. I mailed out many cards and letters yesterday, I got my first PostCrossing postcard today and had an awesome day with my friend Jenny yesterday. We had a blast going to the dollar store and she treated me to lunch at Burger King - I hadn't had a Whopper in ages and it was an awesome treat. AND, Canada beat Russia last night and is hopefully on the road to gold in men's hockey.

Today it's good to be me and for that I am grateful.

Semantics are everything......

There are many stigmas attached to psychiatric illnesses and I'm always doing what I can to expose them for the fallacies that they are. My dream job, and one I hope to be doing at some point once I figure out how, would be working as an advocate with companies of any size; teaching what it really means to have a psychiatric illness and what companies can do for their employees who suffer from these conditions. These illnesses are the number one cause of time lost on the job in North America and there is much that companies could do to decrease this loss.

But as I said, semantics really are everything and I think the first thing we need to do is stop using the term mental health. Mental refers to the mind, not the brain, and it is the brain that is the genesis of psychiatric diseases. People tend to think of the mind and brain as being the same and they are not. The mind is a function of the brain, they are not the same thing. Depression, schizophrenia, anxiety disorders - these diseases and disorders begin in the brain and from there affect the mind. They do not begin in the mind. I believe that they are neurological diseases no different than Alzheimer's or Parkinson's. I'm not sure when and how they were labeled as mental and at this point I really don't care. Alzheimer's isn't referred to as a mental health issue but it's really no different in origin than depression or schizophrenia - the brain malfunctions and that malfunction spreads to the rest of the body in various ways.

I'm a little cloud-headed today and feel like I've been more coherent on this subject previously but here you go. I think if we can be more accurate in how we refer to psychiatric diseases and disorders that would go a long way in relieving some of the stigma that surround them. Alzheimer's isn't known as a mental health issue and Parkinson's isn't known as a muscular disease. Psychiatric diseases need to be labeled for what they are, diseases of the brain. Refer to them as neurological diseases , psychiatric diseases - please just don't refer to them as mental health diseases. Doing so keeps us all in the closet of ignorance and it's getting pretty stuffy in here.

Until next time, be grateful, be happy and if that's out of reach right now, reach out to someone who can remind you.

So here I am.....

.....feeling better but still not feeling all the way there. It's been almost a month now since the new drug regimen started and I'm at the awkward place - halfway between being sick and being back to myself.
And I'm so bored...... I've been crafting like a madwoman, haha, but my paper crafting supplies are running low and I haven't quite figured out what to move to next. I have a huge stack of handmade cards to send out next week when my disability comes in. (Oh Eden, I can't wait until your surprise lands in your mailbox! I had so much fun making it!).

But crafting with depression brings it's own challenges, it's own set of usta's. I usta be able to knock out scrapbook pages in record time, the ideas would come so fast I'd be writing notes on the blank pages so I wouldn't forget them. About 5 years ago I made a scrapbook for my best friend of 30 years and I spent days working on it, filling up the pages almost as fast as I could turn them. I love to make things for my friends, I actually very rarely make things for myself. And when I make something for someone, I spell it (sort of a pun on my most favorite net name Spellflinger), that is I reflect on the person, what they mean to me, the times we've shared - I imbue whatever I'm making with good thoughts and positive energy. In the case of my heartsib, who I haven't yet been graced to meet, I spelled it with thoughts of what our time would be like together when we do get to meet.

But after my last major breakdown in 2005, my creativity has been hampered and dampened and it's never really come back full force. The enjoyment and satisfaction I get are still there, but the ideas don't come as easily or as quickly. Blank scrapbook pages challenge me. Rows of beads taunt me and material just lays there in piles. I didn't realize until this happened how much of my sense of self was connected to being creative. A page can now take all day - and much of that is spent staring at the blank whiteness waiting for inspiration to occur. And the biggest obstacle is the usta's...... I usta be able to whip them right out, I usta have idea after idea........

And now I'm at the crossroad of being sick and being well and I'm bored. My motivation is paced ahead of my concentration and everything I think of bores me. Earlier this week I laid out all my beads and beading supplies - only to put it all away again as soon as it was all laid out. I get frustrated when the ideas don't come quickly - self defeating I know but there you have it. I have lots of ideas for paper crafting but who knows when I'll be able to replenish my paper stock. I'm hoping to be able to swing a packet of paper I saw at Wal Mart a few weeks ago - 2 inches thick of my favorite colors - and $30. Thinking that with our current power bill that just can't be done but I'll be setting aside my change and hoping in a few months it will happen. But I think a trip to the dollar store is doable, they have pretty good paper there.

And I'm trying to accept the fact that my creativity may never be as it was before. It's entirely possible that my previous level was really a manifestation of mania and I'm thinking that's too high a price to pay. I can still craft, it just takes longer and I'm thinking the extra effort makes it sweeter when it's done.

But right now I'm still so bored and hoping that something will grab my fancy soon. My paper is low, but there's still beading, sewing, polymer clay..... all sorts of stuff. If you'd like a handmade card, I have lots of those!, send me an email with your mailing address and I'll add it to the pile that's going out next week!