Jenna, Great to hear from you. I have just had the most horrible experience. I have been sitting at the computer for hours and wrote you a very detailed post. I went to put a poem in at the end. I hit the tab key to make an indent and lost the whole lot. The good news is that my husband has shown me how to write the stuff into a Word document and then paste it in. So this will be a shortened version but hopefully will have the same gist. Firstly I do sense a real strong connection with you…”to be able to understand madness you have to have personal knowledge of that madness…so it always saddens me when I do feel that connection with somebody but also lifts me because I don’t feel alone in it all. I think that is brill because at least we are being real. I would rather have that than the masks so many people wear. I do not think it is outrageous for you to say, “I wish people could view my disease just like they would view somebody with severe cancer…because I can’t imagine anything feeling or being more hellish than this. My daughter is 33. I am 56…sounds ancient. I may be depressed but I’m young at heart. Anyway recently my daughter spent a day with me when I was having a really rough day. She went home to her partner and said to him in such a serious tone, “I wish I could get my mum a brain transplant”. She said it with such conviction that he actually replied with the question, “Can you get brain transplants”. I wish!
When I read, “I don’t think I will get a script from a doc…but if this continues much longer…it might be between taking a highly-potentially addictive med OR killing myself”. I thought that sounds as terminal as any cancer. You went on to say, “Prayer doesn’t seem to be helping me either…things just keep getting worse. Two things I want to share with you on this on and I am most definitely not preaching but someone once said to me, “When we are down to nothing God is up to something”. Lets hope so. The other thing was that my best friends sister is dying of cancer. The doctor’s have given her all the treatment they can and she was going down hill fast. She lives in South Africa and She Val was on the phone with her and Joyce said that although she was dying she just couldn’t buy into the God bit. She said she had no faith. So Val told her not to worry about that saying she would have faith for both of them. Plus Val had lots of believers praying, so she told Joyce there was faith around her in abundance. Guess what, Joyce has taken a turn for the better.
Now I get pretty confused about the God bit myself. However I have been getting great comfort from the works of a woman call Pema Chodron. She is one of the first Americans to be fully ordained as a Buddhist nun. I agree with the blurb on her CD that claims she “has a rare gift for making Tibetan Budddhism accessible to Western seekers. The CD is called, “The Pema Chodron Audio Collection Pure Meditation*Good Medicine*From Fear to Fearlessness. Plus she has a great book called, “The Wisdom of No Escape. How to love yourself and your world. I got them from Amazon, so anytime you can afford a treat I highly recommend them
You asked me to tell you about the renovations at my home..“I would like to hear about all the fun things you are doing”…Jenna it is a nightmare.
I was retired out off work on early retirement due to my depression. It was heartbreaking as I loved my job. The depression was/is all consuming and I just didn’t have the energy. I was lucky to get a lump sum and got a new kitchen installed. My old one was literally falling apart. You may have well taken the words out of my mouth when you said, “I literally sit here day after day trying to psych myself into getting up and getting at least a few things done”. I have never been a great housekeeper and I am a real hoarder. Every room was choked to the gills. The electrician who put the kitchen in was doing some rewiring and alerted me to dry rot. I got a builder out to check the house, which is 95 years old. It needs so much work done JUST TO KEEP IT STANDING that we have had to take out a remortage. I had used my lump sum to get the new kitchen, clear up a load of bills and put my son, 22 through university. It is totally depressing to have to take out the remortage at this stage in our lives. But heck when I think of the Tsunami and the hurricanes in America I know there would be people willing to swap places with me.
So my wonderful daughter has been coming to my home and hauling me off my ass and forcing me to clear my clutter. I still had every essay I ever wrote during my studies, from 1976, notes upon notes from my teaching, every birthday card, Christmas card etc etc etc. Sadly though every room was also booby-trapped my stuff belonging to the son I lost. What we have done is gathered them all together and I will get some pretty little boxes to put them in. I still have all his cloths. He is dead 7 years on the 21st October. I can’t bear to part with them, so I am going to ask my husband to box them up for me. I don’t even want to see them. I will let go when I am ready.
So the builders reckon the work in the house will take about 2 months. We are still searching around for the best deal we can get. However the whole house will have to be cleared and the contents put into storage. All this is happening on top of me going into a Rehab programme. I go in on the 10th October. The programme lasts for 2 months. So it will be brilliant if we can get the workmen sorted out asap then maybe the majority of the work can take place whilst I am in Rehab…I’ll keep you posted. Below is a poem that was quoted in the John Bradshaw book, “Homecoming”. I can’t remember who wrote it but it is something I would like to aspire to…I want to get to chapter 5.
Hope we all do. Wow loosing my first post has turned into a real learning curve.
Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
1) I walk, down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in
I am lost...I am hopeless
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
2) I walk down the same street,
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk,
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
3) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit.
My eyes are open
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
4) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
5) I walk down another street.