How to spend Christmas alone without feeling lonely

I am alone for Christmas. It is not too bad as I am becoming more of an introvert and I have lived alone now for almost 10 years so I am used to it. I really don't mind being alone. I feel I refresh my batteries--Heather on the charger so to speak. Many people are alone for the holidays and many feel lonely. I want to reach out to those through this post and let them know that though they may be alone you are not really ever alone. If you have family and friends, even if you are not seeing them on that day, you can remember that you are still loved.

I have been alone for many holidays over the years and have discovered some nice things to do so I can celebrate it without getting sad about it.

1. Do something special for yourself on that day. Whether it is ordering some yummy food, cooking something special, watching a good movie or taking a walk to the park. Find something special to do just for you.

2. Call your family and hear their voices. Wish them a happy holidays and feel their love from afar.

3. Spend some time reading something good or engaging your mind somehow.

4. Keep the tree lit, the decorations out, the special atmosphere that will let your mind know it's a special day.

5. Make up some holiday traditions of your own. One of mine is to do something nice for someone else around the holidays. Even small things can take you out of your own head and give you a nice, fuzzy feeling. Buy a coffee for a bell ringer, donate to the animal shelter, send someone a card or nice letter, whatever can bring you joy through giving others some joy.

6. Find something funny to read online or something funny to watch. I don't have TV so I watch YouTube and Netflix. Finding something to make you laugh is very good medicine.


There are so many more things you can do: go to a movie, go out to eat, have a little eggnog or buy some special coffee or anything that makes you happy, take a bubble bath.......


The Holidays can be hard. It's important to remember that people love you even if they are not there. I will be having a special day all by myself and that's okay.


Happy Holidays friends and loved ones. Make it special. Have some fun. Do something for you. Do something for someone else. Do away with calorie counting for the day. Get some exercise. Remember you are special to someone out there.

YOU ARE NEVER TRULY ALONE

Running....away....

A habit of running
Away, away, away
Now more than ever
I want to run away
To disappear
Though there is much love
I have a small, lightweight tent
A sturdy backpack
A lightweight sleeping bag
A few months ago I wanted to run
But ended up in the hospital instead
Perhaps for the best
What would running accomplish
but take me away from friends,
family, community?
But still....the urge to disappear
can some days consume me.
I feel like a small animal
sometimes trapped in a cage.
No way out.
No way forward.
Wanting to get from the dark to
 the light I hope to run to.
I have so many things here in
my town to hold me here.
It is a liberal town.
There are many people here
who love me.
Though when the depression hits
I have a hard time believing it
because my mind is not working
towards my greater good.
I have always been a runner.
My father, the alcoholic bipolar,
was also a runner.
When things got hard he went
to a new place.
Hoping things within him would feel better.
But things were never better.
Not for him, not for my mom,
and definitely not for me.
Running away is not the answer.
Staying here and dealing with problems
IS the answer.
Remembering every day that I have
a community here that cares about me.
That's the most important part.

Heather Lake

What to do when you don't want to leave your house

Today is one of those days when I am a little scared to leave my house. Honest truth here. On this blog I tell the truth about my battles with my illness.

There are many reasons that sometimes I have trouble leaving my house. I feel the world is unsafe. I am scared to talk to people. The noise of the world is too loud. I feel safer here where all is controlled. Sounds and commotion bother me more. Everything seems too bright--too out of control outside my door.

But there ARE steps I take when I feel this way.

1. Breathe. Tell myself the world is an okay, safe place to be
2. Let myself know that nothing bad will happen to me out there
3. Understand that this is just anxiety--not reality
4. Dress nicely
5. Take my MP3 player with me to listen to and tune out the loud world
6. Remind myself I don't have to talk to anyone I don't want to talk to
7. Remind myself I am stronger than my fear
8. Pick one thing to concentrate on for the day--something nice like the sunshine, good people, my friends and family, feeling I am loved.
9. Concentrate on one step at a time--shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, get all packed up for the day, pack my lunch, feed the cats
10. Decide to myself that this is the day something good will happen to me.


It is one foot in front of the other. It's reminding myself that giving up a potentially good day in lieu of safety is not the way to advance my life. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Depression, anxiety and all that comes with them

 


I recently started working again after months of depression and anxiety which kept me practically nailed to my home. I had a hard time going out of the house. I didn't have the energy to talk to people--to do anything other than stay home, sleep, read a little if I could (depression can sap my concentration making it harder for me to read.

I took consolation in the friends I felt I could talk to but my mind told me most of my friends either were overwhelmed and didn't want me around, that I was too much for them, that my ability was more than I said it was. I wanted to work--to be a contributing member of society--but my mind kept me prisoner for months.

This is not the first time. It won't be the last.

I found a job. A job I liked-that I was proud of. But the anxiety made it harder to learn--to concentrate and remember things--to be comfortable around my co-workers, to handle the hours without being exhausted and stressed all the time. My boss was wonderful. My co-workers tried to help me with remembering things but they got frustrated too. I felt frustrated by my inability to do the job as well as I wanted to.

That only made things worse. On the days I wasn't working I was going to my doctor's appointments and getting the bare minimum done that I could manage but spent a lot of time at home-tired, in bed, trying to prepare for the next day of work. Some days I cried at work. Out of frustration at my inabilities, at my tendency to overreact to small, probably not real, slights. I was shy of customers, sometimes forgetting my words. IT was hard to learn the drinks, hard to learn the register, hard to feel comfortable.

Now I will find something else to do. It will be, hopefully, easier on me with my disability and help me to continue working. My doctor at the beginning of this job said it was ambitious to do 25 hours a week but I pushed on-hoping it would get easier. It didn't. Though I was treated very fairly I felt I didn't fit in.


I wish for a future at my job where I can find something that suits me. I feel better when I can work a little. I feel better having a reason to leave the house, a way to make some extra money, a way to learn to connect with people despite my setbacks in my health. The thyroid problem didn't help. I was tired a lot, i had brain fog which caused me to make many mistakes.

There is a reason I get social security. I am not taking from the government without reason. Supporting myself fully and staying well are things I cannot do. I am not "giving up". I am not "lazy". I am not without merit. Many times I overestimate my abilities and sometimes it pays off--in doing some very hard things like running my distance races, working at IU, learning new things.

But, unfortunately, they are unwelcome guests in my mind and they limit me. I wish I could tell people every little way they affect me but it would be a long story. So I just try every day. I work on these things every day. I rest when I need to. I heed my doctor's orders. I ask for help when I need it even though my pride can get in the way. I want to do everything myself.

I just needed to write this. Not to garner sympathy but understanding and to combat any stigma or ways I am misrepresented to others.

All I ask is----please be patient with me. I am doing the very best I can.

Identity crisis: A Disturbance In The Force

  
                                         Identity Crisis: A disturbance in the force


  An identity crisis is no small thing. It feels like a titanic shifting--a sailboat on the Atlantic. It's trying to figure out who you are if you are not what you were.
  When circumstances change and you are no longer able to do what you did that made you YOU there is a quicksand effect where the more you fight the changes the faster you sink. It's a letting go of control that is both difficult but can also be like falling asleep. Surrender to subconscious thought. Dreaming different dreams.
   So you ask, over and over, WHO AM I?  What is my place? Where is my tribe? How can I Become? Where do I want to go from here?
  It could be simple if you let it but the trick is letting go and that can be a steep mountain you have to climb before you can fly again.
  It must be admitting that you are different but still your core self remains. Love yourself where you are. Accept yourself where you are.
   Can you find new people and still retain the original tribe that you so identified with? Can you keep everyone?

   The utmost question:  Will i still be accepted and loved when I've shed the things that I am no longer and what do I do now? Will people understand who I am now?

Big question. No simple answers. Just something to ponder and sift through like sand. It will all get worked out. for now it's just a disturbance in the Force.

Uphill battle with weight and self-esteem

I have been gaining weight. I wish I weren't. I tell myself I am more than this number on the scale. I tell myself what I tell my clients--that being healthy doesn't equate with a body type. The difference is that I was a weight loss story. I went from over 200 lbs down to a slimmer runner's body. I could move better, felt better and had higher self-esteem. And I was treated better in some ways by the world.

I ran half my IT100 race in late April and had gained a bit of weight while still running and training. In May I got the hypothyroid diagnosis and many symptoms kept me from running which has been hard. But the most difficult thing is my weight. Without doing much different I keep gaining and it is hard on a person who was a weight loss success story to start putting it back on. The depression can get real.

People think it is because i have stopped running but I still move all the time. Just not running. When you don't have a car you move a lot more than people think you do. I walk all over the place, run for buses, take my bike.....movement every day. Even when I am home I don't spend a lot of time on the couch.

But, still, the pounds keep coming. As a trainer I feel I should be able to stop this from happening. It takes a great toll on me to realize that it is going to be an uphill battle now. Even when I start running again-hopefully in a couple of weeks-I am going to add going to the YMCA to my schedule so that I can continue to fight this through the winter.

Though I know I am a decent person and that weight doesn't equal my worth it can still be hard to keep in the ring when you feel you are losing the battle. My metabolism is slowed now and so it is just a fight to the finish.

I hope I win.

I'm missing someone tonight

Mel

I'm missing someone tonight

soft curling hair

dark eyes and soft voice

tie-dye shirt she wore all the time

smell of cigarettes and canadian royal

on her breath on a friday night

her breathing to me in voice so sweet

“You are an angel in heaven,

I love you sooooo much.”

our bird feeders, fried chicken for dinner,

her love of country ribs

fishing on a summer evening

baiting chicken livers for catfish

she told me it was better fishing

after the rain.

Children calling in the yard,

the fire pit I dug and built

lit up against fireflies flitting

around the tiki torches in the yard

and the moon all big and round

above our love.

Above our home where love and faithfulness

met and lived and ran through

everything we did, everything we touched.

Our crowded, loud and always busy home.

Heather Lake

In Honor of my late wife Melinda

Summer Drift

Summer drift

Summer drift to fall leaves

school buses leave trails of children

The marching band plays at the high school nearby

I can hear the grand sound of brass and drums

Here we are on the cusp of pumpkin season

Fall is the weaver of children in costume

Let the leaves fall down to red

                Let the nights get cooler

The crooked tooth of a pumpkin on a curb

is a welcome sign after summer's heat

September sun is easier on the eyes--

on the skin.

We welcome each new season

with wide open eyes

like we've never seen them before

while listening to the stories

of tornadoes, blizzards, heat waves.

The seasons are our friends

they keep life going,

they keep it interesting

continuing that old idea 

that life is a march down lanes 

of grass, fallen leaves, white snow, windswept rain--

tearing down the visions that life is unchanging.

So come on with me through curbside leaves,

hold my hand as we walk under gabled eaves

dripping tired flowers who have seen

their season pass.

While we watch the summer go down to fall

Let us remember there is another summer coming

There is no real end, no real beginning,

only this circle. This never ending circle. 

Heather Lake

Poem: Sub-society

We tear up the streets

tossing coins to the men

and women who sit by the wall--

writing WAR in spray paint

onto the stop signs,

being warriors for change we think.

We sit in at the council meetings

arguing with the ones who want

sameness over innovation-

status quo over new ideas.

We are the loud ones

who build tents in the park,

who challenge the bureaucrats

that want only the things

they can have for themselves

and the people they serve.

We are tattered and torn,

guarded but open,

talkative and secretive--

we need only the things

that change and grow.

A very, very short story

Once,she thought she was a bird. She could fly and sing and live in the trees. She crept down the hall and tried to fly off the second story window. She discovered she was NOT a bird.

Once, she thought she was a shadow. She followed her sisters around all day. They scolded her over and over. She realized she wasn't sneaky enough, nor faithful enough, to be a shadow.

Once, she thought she was a spider. She tried to spin a web across the doorway and failed. She couldn't make a thing. She realized she wasn't a spider.

One time she thought she was a girl. She brushed her hair, wore some nice dresses, walked quietly to the bus stop, kept herself quiet and still. She realized then she wasn't a girl. She was a woman. She walked confidently, she kept herself loud and amazing, she did her hair anyway she liked. She didn't need anyone. She was amazing and brassy and brilliant. Her story doesn't end here but this story does.

Poem: Woven Vines

Woven Vines

Do not look for me when you are sighing yourself to sleep

do not look for me when you feel the bright light of dawn

keep your heart quiet and still

small and hidden

what cannot be found cannot be broken

We joined our hands like plaited braids

counted our blessings with eyes cast down

held onto each sand of the desert,

drank from the stream of our kindred
consciousness where our words found
each other in the night.

You burn with the fire of myriad suns

Your body an instrument I long to play

your eyes are emeralds deep and dark

your teeth like white pearls.

I want to climb into you

and hold your limbs close to mine

we can be a single star

bursting like a seedpod

in the summer night.

Our minds meet--

our hearts beat--

our voices soft--

we lived our lives

like woven vines.

Heather Lake

8/9/2017

What I think of Straight Pride

Straight Pride is something thought up by *some* of the straight population who believe Gay Pride is somehow "locking them out". This is what I think of that:

1. Straight people didn't get their clubs busted in and sent to jail for deciding to have some time to have fun and dance.
2. Straight people have always been able to get married, adopt kids, be on each other's health insurance, collect survivor's benefits, have the children they conceive able to be both of theirs without having to adopt them by one partner, and all the other accoutrements of legality awarded to them without having to fight tooth and nail for them.
3. Straight people have never been killed for being straight.
4. Straight kids have not been bullied by others, tied to fences, beaten up, shamed, cyber-bullied or otherwise had their school experience destroyed for being straight.
5. Straight people have always been celebrated and accepted.
6. Straight people have never been forced against their will to marry outside of their orientation.
7. Straight people have never lost their families, jobs, security, housing and other needed things because they are straight.
8. Straight people have not had to put up with people saying god hates them and had their military funerals picketed for being straight.
9. Straight people in other countries have not been killed for being straight.
10. Straight people were not killed in the Holocaust for being straight.
11. Straight people have never been thrown into mental institutions for being straight.


For LGBTQ youth:

• Nearly a fifth of students are physically assaulted because of their sexual orientation and over a tenth because of their gender expression.
• About two-thirds of LGBT students reported having ever been sexually harassed (e.g., sexual remarks made, being touched inappropriately) in school in the past year.
• The average GPA for students who were frequently physically harassed because of their sexual orientation was half a grade lower than that of other students.

On the subject of sexual assault and rape:

 1 in 8 lesbian women and nearly half of bisexual women experience rape in their lifetime, and statistics likely increase when a broader definition of sexual assault is used. Nearly half of bisexual men and four in ten gay men have experienced sexual violence other than rape in their lifetime, and though statistics regarding rape vary, it is likely that the rate is higher or comparable to heterosexual men. As with most hate-based violence, transgender individuals are the most likely to be affected in the LGBT community. A staggering 64% of transgender people have experienced sexual assault in their lifetime.

So by these facts and statistics and many, many more there is no reason for straight pride. The straight people have always had the sway of community recognition, rights of marriage and the backing of their families. The only way this is different for straight people is if racial, ethnic or religious conflicts arise.


So to those who want straight pride---get over yourselves.

Because the above picture...is ridiculous.

Poem: Grand plans/Great Plains

Grand plans/Great Plains

Grand plans and great plains

Running away never looked so good.

Taking the road by the throat

choking every last mile out of it

and eating up the scenery---

a vapid, hungry hunt for the

very best place to be.

I find myself lost in myself--

twisting stairs like an Escher print

winding down.

Crowded buses with loud voices

drag me down

and I beg for quiet spaces.

Lost here—with my thoughts--

heart beating pure like water.

Little pictures-like fish-darting

here and there within the

confines of my internal vision.

Here are my arms raised.

Here are my hands open.

Here are my eyes closed.

There is no more of me

than what I can see.

Heather Lake

Great rumble of trains passing
        somber home in the darkness
grandpa snoring--
   little quilt with knobs of fabric

The trains ran by
  their whistles blowing
while i sat and held the little drops of fabric in my hands

The fire was stoked in the little woodstove
   and grandpa got up at 4am to feed it wood
to warm up the children and grandchildren in the house

Balogna sandwiches and ice tea
  My father's little brass piano player in a corner
of the sparse living room
  Grandma's quilts and yarn rugs all around.


I treasured those times--those nights.
Nothing could take their place in my little world.

Diary of a running break: Knees and hips and muscles Oh My

A runner who can't run. It's the definition of frustration.

My knees and hips have been bothering me more than ever lately. I hate it. It upsets me.

But it also changes my definition of myself. My identity as a runner was all tied up to my self-esteem. It was tied up to my friendships and relationships. It was tied up to my image of myself. But the hardest thing to let go of is my idea of how to stay fit. I have had to change that. My hips are not allowing me to run right now. My muscles feel sore for far longer than I want them to. My knees hurt a lot more now no matter how much I rest and what else I do.

But here lies the trick: It's not what you DO for fitness. It's just that you stay as fit as possible while nursing your body back to health. It is the idea of NOT pushing yourself that can sometimes be the most difficult and yet the most important thing you will ever accomplish. Keeping myself healthy for life is more important than pushing something to achieve a lifestyle I am not able to continue for long. I am in this body for life. I need to treat it with more respect than I previously have by pushing the running when I am not fit for it at the time.

I must be smart.

Smart sucks sometimes. It feels depressing to not be able to achieve a runner's high when i need it. It feels frustrating to see everyone doing their great runs and races and knowing that at this time I am unable to do that. Not that i am not happy for my friends---and extremely proud of them. I just want to join them--for runs, races, events, exciting moments in their lives.

I want that identity back. I want that feeling of accomplishment back.

How will I get those things back? Weightlifting, swimming, biking, walking alone or with friends, taking care of myself, getting enough sleep, de-stressing and remembering that my setback can lead to my comeback--a stronger and better person than before.

That is worth waiting for. I can get into other things and my identity can change from "runner" to whatever I choose to become. It can be good enough to be "heather" and realize that just because I cannot run isn't the end of my self-esteem, my good feelings about myself, my fitness and my ability to spend time with friends. It's different but not bad.

So...as I spend time with my doctors getting the hips and knees working better again I can find some ways to spend my time constructively and appreciating my runs later on in my life as a great gift--something to be treasuring. And if I not ever able to really run again?


That can be okay too.

Celebrating Mom

My mom has had a difficult life. She has weathered it with grace however it has not been easy. I wish I lived closer, and perhaps someday I will, but when I do get to spend time with her it is a wonderful thing.

She celebrated her 71st birthday last weekend. My aunt gay put together a grand party at her assisted living facility and family came from all around. My mom, in her usual manner, seemed pleased but reserved. But I knew she was touched by all the attention.

I love my family. I live so far from them, at least for someone without a car, however I enjoy my time with them very much. Coming from a very small nuclear family--only my dad, mom and I--I treasure my aunts, uncles and cousins very much. My grandparents are all passed on. My dad also is gone. So here is my mom--she is holding steady--and I love her so much. I appreciate how hard things have been for her and appreciate my family who takes care of her and all the care she receives at her care center. I wish things had been easier for her but, like I said, she has taken it all in with a grace that belies the difficulty of her years.

She became mentally ill in 1984 when I was 14 and before that weathered many storms with my father--also with a mental health diagnosis himself--and yet was always such a positive influence on me. We were the best of friends growing up and that hasn't changed much over the years.

My card said "You are my best friend."  and that is the honest truth.

Echoes down the hall--depression and finding your friends

Being a person going through a depression that has gone through it before feels like echoes down the hall. It reverberates through my life like footsteps leaving prints on everything I do.
A man once said to me "Depression is a deep well. Once you get down there you need to climb up a lot of shit to get back to the top." It's like that story about the donkey. The farmer decided he didn't want his old donkey anymore. He put it down in a well. He started throwing dirt down there. After awhile he noticed the donkey was getting out of the well. Confused he looked down and saw that the donkey had climbed up the pile of dirt to get back up out of the well.

That's what it is like getting through a depressive phase. You just keep climbing up the dirt that lies before you. It is not easy. It is not simple. But it can be effective. I hope it is effective.

All I ask of those that care is just be my friend and ride the roller coaster somewhere with me. You can be at the front of the cars just glancing back to see if I am still there. You can be behind me watching me do the loop-de-loops. You can, if you are brave, be beside me holding my hand.

But you don't have to do anything else. It's not something you can fix. It's only something you can live through with me or you can let me go until it is easier to be with me. Either way I still love you. Either way I still trust you. We will be laughing in the sunshine again sometime.


Peace.

Poem: Moon-drenched and star-kissed

Moon-drenched and star-kissed

A dark night sky,

diamond studded

and moon-drenched

calls to her in her sleep.

She moves, like a cat,

through the house

and out on the lawn,

gazing upwards to that

great, round moon-

those bright pinpricks of stars.

A delicate breeze plays out

in the trees—it twirls her hair

and braids it.

She only has eyes for the skies.

Her arms lifting overhead

she tries her best to grasp

the moonlight.

And, in her arms, there is

only that steady wind,

raising her up on tiptoe

to try, once more, to be part

of the nevermore.

In that beautiful night.

Heather Lake

Poem: The Dreaming

The Dreaming

She glanced to the window, watching leaves disco in the wind--

rustles along the wide path to the garden fence,

like the crinoline skirts of dancing ladies

and the wind sighed.

The chair she sat in-a rocking chair of cherry wood-

kept her safe within it's carved confines.

She sat with hands in her lap

and dreamed of wider places where there

were no garden gates-

of seas gasping against white, sandy shores

and sprays of foam roaring up

great gray cliffs,

screaming gulls overhead.

Dreamed of a starched white portico

facing a Greek island village-

all stairs, white cottages and cats lounging-

the sea a blue ribbon winding out.

Or THERE--

a small cafe in a village in Tuscany,

buried among green hills--

rich, dark coffee and a bright red door--

riding a bike through windy forgotten streets.

              Her home, both her safety net and her prison,

was kept clean and curtains drawn

so no one would come and see her face.

Her smiles, fleeting like shooting stars,

would melt you as ice in the sun,

but she seldom smiled anymore.

She sat-hands in her lap-

dreams floating through her mind,

listening to her life pass her by,

and still---she felt nothing--

her safety was also her box.

It kept her quiet-it kept her still-

it kept her.

Heather Lake

A discussion about depression and anxiety: what worries do to you and why they do it

                        Hi. Depression and anxiety. Hmmm...how do we start a conversation?

"I'm depressed. I have social anxiety. I have noise anxiety. I have out-of-the-house-on-a-daily-basis anxiety."
            
                       Does that work?

How about "Some days I am so worried about my friends that I can't talk to my friends."
       
                                                         OR

"Some nights I worry that my anxiety is causing my depression to increase therefore the worries cause more anxiety which leads me to being depressed that I am worried which leads to more worry about people,things, situations and also whether or not I have enough eggs for breakfast."

THEN I need to leave the house to GET eggs for breakfast which is an anxiety-producing thing in itself. The car/bus/walk to the store? The People IN the store? Talking to the people in the store? Finding which eggs I want? What kind of clothes do I wear for a quick trip to the store? Am I talking to myself without knowing it? Um.....so maybe I will have oatmeal for breakfast.



I get depressed in the evenings....and the mornings...during the day. But also before bed, IN bed, when I get out of bed and when I walk into the living room to see one of my cats has once again threw up a hairball on my couch.

Crying is just part of living. Like drinking water, sweating, breathing and brushing my teeth. Sometimes I cry while i do all three of those. Brushing my teeth is difficult while crying. You are filling your mouth with water and yet water is also coming out of your face. You could almost replace the water from the faucet with the tears especially since the saltiness will act as a sort of  'plaque loofa' .  If you have to cry in public hopefully it will be raining. Then the tears can just look like rain running down your face.


Crying it not to be confused with actual sadness. It is, like I said, just something that happens with depression sometimes. As sweating is to exercise crying is to depression. As race jitters is to competitive events anxiety is to anything in life which requires me to go outside; listen to noises; deal with friend conflicts; be in an environment in which responsibility is given to me like eating in a restaurant, buying movie tickets, sit in an audience, wear something nice but uncomfortable and basically leaving my safe space.


Okay. I guess that's as much as I can say about depression and anxiety right now. I am sure I will think of more things later......when i am not so worried about my worries about how this blog post will go. Yup. That's it. For now.

I have to end this somehow.

um..............Bye? Yes...that's it. Bye.

I killed kale and grew a pond

   I killed kale and grew a pond

I braved to grow kale plants this year. They died quickly after putting them in a large red bucket. No ventilation or way for the water to escape. I would tell people, “Here is my porch and this is the kale I killed.”

One day after the point of hopelessness I noticed small organisms in the kale muck. I have created a new world. An ecosystem off its own. What must they be thinking swimming around in their little watery world? They would only know me as the creator of their watery world. Inconceivable would be the absolute failure of my attempt to grow kale. I watched them swim around and thought, “I have killed kale and created a pond.” Whether they are frogs or some other beings it doesn't matter. To me they are all wonderful life.

The real words should have been “I killed kale and created a world.”

Creatures!!

Live good lives! Have fun! Make a better world for yourself than I did. I will try to keep the bucket full of water.

Don't expect--no disappointment

William Shakespeare reportedly said "Expectation is the root of all heartache". It is true it is in our best interests to be hopeful however expecting a certain outcome of an action leads to true heartache. Such as you may text or message someone and they see it but don't answer you back. Expecting an answer and/or a specific answer can lead to feelings of loss and increased sensitivity to remarks. That can lead to damaging your relationships with others. 

Being expectant of how we will feel or do day to day whether physically, emotionally and/or mentally can lead to disappointment with ourselves when we don't live up an expectation of our performance. Being expectant that a relationship will either evolve to more than it is or that it will continue can lead to feelings of loss when the relationship (i'm talking friendship OR romantic) doesn't do that or ends because of one thing or another. 

Expecting your friends to act a certain way towards you can also lead to disappointment. People are people. They will do as they do. We need to do what we need to do for ourselves and our own life and not expect things from others. That is so hard to do though. Reminding ourselves that just because we didn't get the response or the feelings returned doesn't mean that person doesn't care anymore can help to relax those feelings. 

I guess I am saying that while it's good to HOPE and REFLECT on desires if things don't happen that way then it is okay. 

 

stormy weather forecast in paradise

hey there blog readers. Things here at the Lake house have been a bit under the weather lately. Diagnosed with a bipolar illness is already tough-. Tack some thyroid problems onto that and it becomes stormy weather indeed.

I was diagnosed with Hypothyroidism. It's when the thyroid doesn't produce enough thyroid hormone. All kinds of stuff can happen:  cold intolerance, weight gain, depression, fatigue, anxiety, insomnia, trouble learning new things, foggy thinking, memory problems, dry skin, the list goes on...

So here I am trying to register the new illness to go along with the old illness i still deal with daily.


What I am working on now:

1. getting out of the house daily
2. getting help to get out for my runs because my fatigue makes my motivation ZERO.
3. getting rid of gluten, soy, dairy and sugar. Some of these I have already been working on. some of them i am starting to work on.
4. Keeping a positive outlook on things
5.  Working tests online to keep the brain moving
6. finding things to be excited about--to look forward to
7. making sure i am honest with my friends about how i am truly feeling day to day--not giving the standard "FINE" when asked by someone I am close to. Obviously not to the grocer or the guy on the street but with true friends being honest when i am having a bad day. And a good day! And all the days in between.
8. Have some fun every day
9. Laughing
10. finding people to do stuff with when i am feeling tired and like "hermiting" ---my new word
11. Being safe, secure and well
12. Feeling the love all around me
13. Knowing things will always get better.
14. Knowing that having these things will make me a better helper for others who face these things and that is a fine thing indeed.

Thoughts from a widow--Orlando shooting

This will be a bit rambling as my head is still getting wrapped around what has happened in Orlando at the Pulse nightclub. It is unfortunately not surprising that LGBT people were a target. And I dearly wish that weren't so. I don't understand why someone else's love choice is SO enraging to some people it's okay to kill them, picket their funeral, beat them up, discriminate against them at work, in medical matters, in matters of life and death.

I had a wife. She passed away in 2007.  She had a daughter who is still my family. Her daughter at the time had two daughters. Now she has five children. She is my step-daughter and they are my grandchildren. Not legally though. Not legally because someone decided we were not counted as a family.

 We were married on a beautiful day in September in 2002. We were surrounded by people who loved us. We were welcomed into a family of people who believed in our love and commitment. We exchanged our vows that we would be bound together as a couple, as a family.

We walked through that land hand in hand and were celebrated and felt loved and accepted by the ones around us. It was a wonderful day. But on paper it was nothing. Though we had said our vows and proclaimed our commitment there was no public record. When she was sick and had to be in the hospital or go to the emergency room I could often not visit her there or get information on how she was doing because I was not considered family.

Explaining what the relationship to my step-daughter and her children were was sometimes complicated as legally they were nothing to me. Even though they meant everything to me. We had a home together. We bought a car together. We had a garden and bird houses. We planned meals, vacations and family get-togethers. We took family photos. Her daughter and grand-daughters lived with us for a time. We were a busy, thriving, loud family and we loved each other very much--all of us. 

But there was nothing I could do for her when she was ill. There was nothing I could do to help her when she was hospitalized, there was no legal recourse to help her with her legal matters when she was unable to do so.

When she passed away I couldn't get the death certificate or find out exact cause of her death. (It was sudden). I paid for her funeral and casket out of her last disability payment however was not considered legally entitled to do so because I was "not family". Over the next year I waded through her belongings, paid for her tombstone, tried to deal with debts for which I was responsible for now and, all the while, could not tell most people why I was so sad and 

I

what I had lost. A grieving widow in a straight couple is understood, able to find resources to help and given legal assistance with the particulars of the death of her spouse. I was not given any of that.

I would not trade that life for anything. It was filled with love, loud kids, camping trips, romance, special family times and a home together.

Our marriage was important. Every marriage should be legally recognized. As long as no one is getting hurt every union should be recognized. Our marriage hurt no one. Our home added to the community. Taking care of our duties to each other and to the kids--taking them to their first day of Kindergarten, picking them up at school, helping with homework. All that was important and still at the school I was not legally recognized as a grandparent.

Then there is this horrible hate crime. There have been many horrible hate crimes. Protesters saying dead soldiers are going to hell for being gay. People beaten, denied access to basic human rights, denied health coverage, spousal support, survivor benefits, adoption rights...it unfortunately goes on and on.

When this man went into this club and started shooting innocent people who were simply living differently than him I cried. I cried because he didn't care about who they were, what their home lives and families were like, about the love they had surrounded themselves with and how hard they fought in so many ways to be recognized.

He only saw they were different and it made him HATE. It made him KILL.

I am sad today. I am angry today. I have to reconcile this inside my mind. I find I cannot. There is no rhyme or reason to this. It's only RAGE and HATRED and there is really nothing more I can say.

Today--whatever your orientation--give thanks for your family--your spouses--your children--your lives. Hug those you love a little tighter and tell them you love them.

Words,lies and deep thoughts

When your friend is most active might be the time to make sure they are ok. Their words can be lies but body language and behaviour doesn't. It is weird most suicides happen in the spring. And sometimes when someone goes from down and inactive to wildly active it can mean more than people think.

Don't let your friend lie to you and slip away.

Remind them things will get better.

nothing really: just my day today

I was in my house today--at least physically although mentally i was residing in the town of Chester's Mill--as doing an "Under the Dome" marathon has definitely gone to my head. My cats are lounging as they do unless I am on my phone in which case Angelbaby gets jealous of the phone and has to go between me and the phone crying and blocking it from view. I have told her she is a better door than a window.

I note my breakfast on my diet log. I keep a small notebook to track my carb and general macronutient intake. I try to keep my carbs to 45 carbs a meal--complex carbs only and try to limit them to within an hour after exercise. Since I am not running 40 mile weeks I need to get more serious about my nutrition. Sugars, unhealthy fats, starchy carbs, limit on beer and alcohol and keeping more careful track of what I am eating and when. 

As I take a break from Chester's Mill I turn on Tori Amos on my Pandora stations. I have several stations--a  lot of stand up comedy stations. I am a stand up comedy addict. I know so many comics routines by heart as I am fine with hearing the same routines over and over again until even the cadence and timing can be done precisely. I love to watch stand up comedy on YouTube but mostly just listen to it for hours as background noise while I am home working on art projects, reading, cleaning or doing homework.

Time to take an exercise break:  Heading out to my bike The Minivan, armed with warmer clothes for riding the bike and my light long sleeved shirt for running and walking I ride my way down the B-line to Adams street then turn around and ride the B-line and rail trail until Church lane. Leaving my warmer clothes behind I take off on a run/walk routine down the clear creek trail about 2 miles out and 2 miles back.

I love seeing the red winged blackbirds and enjoy seeing the little songbirds in the wooden houses along the path--when they see me they fly away like "Nothing to see here..I am over here now. Nope, no babies around". I see several people today including my friend Chris running with purpose, a man in an M&M cap I compliment  him on and a birder with binoculars which I have a short conversation with about the fact that that is a huge crow rather than a hawk and asking him why the tiny songbirds chase the crows. He informs me crows attack the little bird's babies and will eat the eggs so they little birds actually take the initiative and chase and attack the crows before they get the chance. Brave little birds!!Those crows are four times their size. What a mother will do for her young.

I passed a house with a bunch of free stuff on the lawn. I took two nice water bottles, some weight lifting/cycling gloves; a warm coat (pretty big and long on me but very warm); a backpack and a slinky. I don't know why the slinky--maybe because i used to love them and never see metal ones anymore. 

Back home reading blogs and my natural health cures book looking for benefits of apple cider vinegar which I have started to take a teaspoon of every day interspersed with a bit of juice. I have started using coconut oil as well--for cooking but also as a hair conditioner. Once a week I coat my hair with some liquefied coconut oil, leave it in a shower cap overnight and then wash it out in the morning. It creates the nicest quality of conditioning I have found. I also use Argon Oil conditioner and spray. Grey hair can become wiry if not treated to conditioning. I only shampoo my hair about twice a week now so it is more conditioned than anything.

Witch Hazel has become my toner of choice as well. A bit of witch hazel and then a little coconut oil to add over the top. You would think coconut oil would add too much oil and cause blemishes but it actually helps my face to be moisturized without the blemishes. I am unlucky in some ways to be allergic to quite a few skin treatments including neutragena plus I have a metal allergy so no jewelry. Although I have some wonderful friends who have made me non-metal necklaces and such so I can have some jewelry to wear.


Night time is time to read and write. I am reading a few different books right now. Walden by Thoreau; The Shining by Stephen King and a book called The Search for Shrodinger's Cat.  I like to write poetry and stories and occasionally publish them in one of my three blogs. I come from a long line of writers and poets so it is in my blood I think. Both of my parents were reporters and writers. Pretty darn good photographers too. My mom even co-wrote a book about country and western stars in which she got to meet some big names including Johnny and June Carter Cash. She also interviewed some cool people like Jane Pauley, the Today show host back in the 70's and 80's.

I do some stretching before bed. Tomorrow I start my training for my certified recovery specialist certification which I am already getting set up to get a job at the local mental health center as a recovery coach. I am excited by it. I took this training actually five years ago previous to the personal training certification and got certified but was not able to find a job in the field. This time I have told them I am willing to take it over again but really will need to lead to some type of job. They are already starting the process so I am feeling fairly confident at this point. My personal training business is starting up slowly but that is the nature of new business. I now have about three clients so I feel good about that.


So there you go. Thanks for reading!

LOST

The most precious words to say are "I am Lost".

        I'm lost to the big, blunt world,

lost to the shouting rants, 24 hour news,

       the crowded hallways—the rush of briefcases.

The best thing I can say is that when I am lost I am found,

       for there are paths invisible and roads unattainable

that the deserted ones can find.

If I am shaking my heart—my mind--

                     free of deceitful spaces and false edges

                I will go there quietly.

  Quickly--a gecko on the wall,

           silent as a shadow.

   You won't notice me leaving until it's too late.

If I were to land a burning plane

    on the tarmac and save everyone within

would I dine at the table of the gracious?

    If I were to swim the great ocean all alone

and reach France in time for dinner

   would you join me for a glass of wine?

If I were to run all the mountains of Switzerland

   with bare feet and the clothes on my back

would you be wanting to speak of dreams?

                I will listen until you have emptied yourself

   of every thought and feeling

you wish to share with me--

   honored to be in your circle of trust.

Taking this innocence of time

   passing I will lean closer to you,

smell your hair,

    breathe in your outgoing breath,

hold my eyes closed

   feeling each muscle stir within your smile.