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28 days. That’s how long it’s been since my last post. No less than three people have mentioned that fact to me even though I’m pretty sure that less than three people read this blog. It’s been even more sets of 28 days since I wrote a post that consisted of anything more than a quick thirty-three words or music to make you move.
I’m mired. I can feel myself, down a hall with long walls, scrabbling for purchase. Those words are just out of reach, they bubble and boil in my head, percolating at a rapid pace. Conversations are formed and lay dying somewhere among what passes for functional synapses. Eloquent, thought-provoking posts are constructed internally from spires of sand and unicorn tears that topple as my eyes close at the end of each day. I have nothing to say. I have everything to say. I have nothing that I know how to say.
Depression is congenital, constitutional, ever-present. An unpleasant present, peasant. Major depression is an ocean, deep and angry, constantly moving and bitter cold. Dysthymia is a lake that you can’t escape, its scummy surface lapping at your numb ankles persistently. A lake which offers counting the myriad of ways your mind can call you a loser as the only form of entertainment.
Which is worse? They both are. They are both the worst, the most unbelievably self-indulgent, horrifyingly banal diagnoses ever experienced. As I assume every diagnosis is to the person enslaved by it.
So to all of you out there enslaved by some big nasty or living with it, fighting it, succumbing to it, whatevering it – SOLIDARITY. Hang in there, like that damn kitty from the branch, for those shiny, fleeting moments of drive-by happiness. That moment when a show gets every single thing right (The Office finale), when the sun comes out and flips the gray and rainy forecast the bird, for warm croissants and motherfucking Voodoo doughnuts, for silly internet memes that sweep through like the Santa Ana winds and unite us all in mutual hilarious frenzy.
May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Be aware, y’all. The life you save may be your own.
Get help if you need it. The world deserves to have you in it.
My lovely friend, From Tracie, did this old style bloggy thang a week or so ago. I meant to do it, like every other thing on my list, but got bogged down by the man(Ole Dirty D, that wily fuck). Then another lovely, Tia, did it and I was like, oh snap, best be hopping on that train before it leaves the station. All aboard, y’all.
1. What were you doing 10 Years Ago?
Ten years ago I was living in Brooklyn, NY, working as an adoption caseworker in the foster care system and going to school at NYU for my MSW. I was also doing a lot of crying, moaning and wailing about how fucking tired I was and how much I had to do. Now I’m a mom. I laugh in the face of the tired of ten years ago.
2. What 5 things are on your to do list?
Order a ATT booster because our cell service is shite in our house
Pack up the no longer age appropriate toys. I am a toy hoarder. You never know when you’re gonna need nesting cups or 352 matchbox cars.
3. What are 5 snacks you enjoy?
Cake batter muddy buddies. Seriously. If you make them you will love and loathe me for life. Use Wilton candy melts in place of white chocolate. White chocolate is not chocolate.
This is the kind of day(life?) it is, y’all. A gray and rainy because, hello, Portland. A day when communication seems fucked by the stars. Poor Mercury, no one gives you the time of day until you go all retrograde. A day when that pain in your left arm takes up all the space in yer brainpan until you realize that you worked out yesterday. A day when you are of a “certain age”(read: old as fuck) when left arm pains are of legitimate concern. A day when the words fierce and ferosh need to be pulled out of the Closet of Lame to force your tired bones to RALLY.
They may be neither fierce nor ferosh, but they are fanfuckingfun and it’s hard to be all Grumpy Cat when you’re dancing around in your underwear singing about what you really, really want. All you music purists can SUCK IT. Sometimes you just really need to zigazigAH. And,as I learned last night from attending the bestie’s 32nd anniversary of her 10th bday, friendship really never does end.
This post is a response to the weekly writing challenge from Trifecta. Not only is this a challenge, it’s a competition. One that comes with the rewards of triumph, increased feelings of self satisfaction and having your wondrous words featured on Trifecta. Join in and be judged, you know you have the words to kick some literary bootay.
This week’s word: survive
Clammy, clasping, gripping, grasping. At straws or at shreds of things long gone. Hope stuffed down deep inside a knapsack. Head down, eyes closed, hands outstretched. This is what it is to survive.
Robin, at Farewell Stranger, is awesome for many reasons. One of those reasons is her awesome idea of memorializing the years with pictures. I memorialized 2011 here. You can link up here through January 4th. Peace out, 2012. You kinda sucked a big fat one. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.
The super kid turned three. It’s kinda a big deal. I hosted a bash for tiny superheroes complete with identifying capes and sparkly black masks. Somehow I made it to 500 posts. A feat that will not be replicated in a similar timeline due to the whole crushing-and-debilitating-depression-sucking-my-soul-and-will-to-lift-my-ass-off-the-couch thang. We tiptoed, mourned the loss of my Tree Hill family, played with actual real, live snow. I started medical billing and coding school. It was not an experience acquainted with awesome. Oh, and I became an editor at Trifecta, a weekly writing challenge. It was kind of a slow month.
August was busy as fuck. I drank some badass strawberry basil lemonade with some Bandies right before meeting the Bloggess live and in person. Both she and her majestic boobs are as awesome as they seem.
I turned *cough, cough* some year. Okay, forty-three. Which made me remember all those creepers who hung out with me when I was twenty saying they didn’t FEEL forty. But you ARE, Blanche. I AM. And I’m actually petty cool with it. Except for the old lady vision issue. I’m expecting my super powered vision to kick in any day now.
My friend has mad talent and the world now knows it. The election came and went, lowering the national blood pressure rate by half. My tot trotted. I may have too. Despite the strong impulse to run screaming, hide under the covers and hurl rocks I was videotaped and put on the internets. I may never truly recover.
Then the world got colder and meaner and more desolate. The world responded, as it often does in times of epic tragedy, by hearts everywhere growing three sizes. Kindness is in the world, you just have to keep your eyes open and watch for it.
2012 was a hell of a year. And by that I mean a year of hell. Depression ran rampant throughout the ranks, violence escalated, ugliness abounded. But among all that were moments of inspiration, kindnesses of every size and shape and a banding back together on a national level.
Personally, it was another year in flux, another year of being gripped by the gray. There were far less posts written and far more goals made and revised on repeat. But I’m still here. And I still want to be. Which is the only real reason to keep on keeping on.
So, thanks for the comments, the support the love. Thanks for being a witness to my little life and let me do the same in return.
Happy anni, triple L. And happy New Year to all y’all. May all of your dreams be big and may you never stop dreaming them. And may you dance your balls off more days than not.
Becks over at Mommy Wants Vodka hosts her annual meme about this time every year and I am jumping aboard this crazy train for the second time because I like random surveys given by foxy bitches who like encased meats. This is what I had to say last year, if’n you care to refresh.
1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?
I made science my bitch.
2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I’m gonna say yes because I’m too lazy to look at my resolution post from last year and because I’ve been told that I need to believe in myself more. I will make more. I will make many. #onedayimgonna
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My lovely step sister just had her first kid. Several Bandmates had babies and one of my mommy friends had her second kid.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
My favorite aunt died. There’s a hole there to deep to mention in polite company. One of my Bandmates, the irrepressible ball of joy Mrs. One Day, died this week. Although I didn’t know her well, her kindness was legend. She will be remembered, as will her message of dreaming big and dreaming often. #onedayimgonna.
5. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?
Daryl Dixon and the ability to freeze time.
6. What countries did you visit?
Texas.
7. What date from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why:
Halloween was pretty memorable. Hulk and Thor do Urgent Care tends to stick to the gray matter.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Showering more days than not.
9. What was your biggest failure?
There were many. The most recent went undetected to my epic relief.
I’d wear this everyday, but then I’d have to shower more.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Ellen, because she is spreading the kindness movement on a global level. Also, she’s fucking funny. And a cover girl.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
There was a lot of unkindness and bullying that made me sad in the heart parts. There was also the whole election dealio that left me exhausted and deflated. And, of course, the escalating incidences of violence that decimated me.
I’m trying to keep the light on the good stuff I witnessed. The kindness, the camaraderie, #26acts, all that Ellen does everyday for people. The Band, the Bloggess, Moosh in Indy and everyone else who shines lights into the dark corners and lifts up those who are down. Kindness is catching. Pass it on.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Christmas lights. It’s like the Griswold’s up in this bitch.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Comic book movies. It was kinda a big year for the geeks.
16. What song will always remind you of 2012?
We really are you know.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? I can hardly remember yesterday, how am I supposed to remember last year? This year has been pretty bad so probs sadder.
ii. thinner or fatter? Thinner. Slightly.
iii. richer or poorer? Same, same.
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Flash mobs. Also flashing.
19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Second guessing and stressing.
20. How will you be spending Christmas?
I spent it with the kid and the hubberband.
22. Did you fall in love in 2012?
Only with Daryl Dixon and Russell Stover Dark Chocolate and Coconut Cream Santas.
23. How many one-night stands?
I’ve had a series of them with the aforementioned Santas.
24. What was your favorite TV program?
The Walking Dead.
25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
I don’t hate anyone. But I harbor strong feelings of anger, disappointment and revulsion for a select few.
I haven’t done this is a long time. Not because there hasn’t been star worthy stuff. Of course there has. There is always an infinite amount of cool and wonderful things and people in the world and on the internet. Which is why we’re all so crazy for Pinterest.
I haven’t been participating much in the internet-y stuff of days gone by. In fact, I haven’t been participating in much these days. Except for my nemesis, science. That wily fuck. What I have been knee deep and balls to the walls in is El Depresión, that cagey bastard. He and science have joined forces to take me down.
There’s little things that keep the muck from consuming me completely like a symbiotic Venom-like creature. Things like unexpected cards from badasses of internet fame and friendship, like Daryl Dixon taking us to the gun show while ganking Walkers with his badass crossbow and surly-redneck-with-the-heart-of-gold thang. Like a tree covered in mismatched memories or a friend I’ve never met getting some well deserved recognition.
But the big things have been evident this week and I want to say a hallefuckinglujah and respek to all of that. The internet can harbor some pockets of bile and provide a safe space for mean girls and bullies, but it can also be so kind and remind us of who we really want to be. And it can take us on a wild and wacky ride through communal magic. That shit should be participated in to the fullest and celebrated on the regular. Which is what I want to do with these precious links I lay at your feet. Welcome to the wonderful.
This post is a response to the weekly writing challenge from Trifecta. Not only is this a challenge, it’s a competition. One that comes with the rewards of triumph, increased feelings of self satisfaction and having your wondrous words featured on Trifecta. Join in and be judged, you know you have the words to kick some literary bootay.
I haven’t Trifecta’ed in a while. In part because I’m an editor now and can’t be judged on my work, but can be judged for it. The larger part that I lack the ability to muster come the days of gray and rainy and this year ain’t going to be the exception to the rule. It may well be the gold standard the rule will now go by. Anyway, it ain’t much, but it’s all I got.
Crisp candy shell, brittle and bright. Tiptoe tread on the razor’s blunted edge. Blurred mind keeps my bones from breaking, so shallow and hollow between. I shake the globe to watch it spin.
Lisa tagged me in some challenge to answer ten questions about my novel. For those of you playing along at home, I’m not writing a novel. Because I believe that leaving a game of tag before tagging someone else is bad form, and because I’d rather be answering questions about the novel I’m not writing than actually writing, survey says, ding ding ding, I’m answering.
What is the working title of your book?
The working title of the book I am not writing is Shine. There is almost no chance of it turning into a book. But it could be several to many pages of lovely description of an alternate universe.
I’m also writing something else, mostly autobiographical. Because who isn’t interested in the life and stylings of a middle aged hausfrau with depression. With music, television and pop culture references thrown in as background chatter.
Where did the idea for your book come from?
The idea came from being a sad panda living in a land where the sun don’t shine much six months out of the year.
Same, same.
What genre does your book fall under?
Science fiction.
Autobiography.
Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
Catherine Keener. I only have one character so far. Because it’s not a book.
Mary Louise Parker. Jake Gyllenhaal. The kid from the Shining. Other peeps. Andy Rooney. Wait, he’s not an actor. Also, dead. Mickey Rooney. Um, dead. Rooney Mara. Why the fuck not?
Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
Oh, they’ll be clubbing each other to death over this one.
Ditto.
How long did it take you to write the first draft of your novel?
Right now I have exactly 1308 words. That’s like what? 5 pages? Took me two days.
This one has 521 words. Two pages. One day.
What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
Did you ever see that Wim Wenders movie, Until the End of the World. No? I think it was only seen by me and my dear, sweet artist friend Vince. But that’s the kind of world I envision when I think about Shine.
Nick Cave. Swoon.
Girl, Interrupted meets Running With Scissors. But less funny. And with more drugs. Also, a cult.
Who or what inspired you to write this book?
Depression inspired me. And trying to escape the gray and rainys by traveling to Texas only to have them follow me there.
People say I’ve lived an interesting life. I think of this book as the assessment information my next therapist will require.
What else about your book might pique the readers interest?
Burger and fries to the first five hundred people to give an accurate total of handjob references.
Now it’s my turn to tag. I’m tagging two Trifectans, one long standing member and one n00b, because I think they’re both balls out awesome and I can’t wait to read any book they write. Linda Vernon and Draug, you be tagged.
