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Drums, Pa, United States
My heart is on my sleeve and my soul is on paper. Please be kind to those around you, we are all glass.

The richness of sybolism

The richness of sybolism
Telling my story with no words

Monday, June 27, 2011

Man down epidose #3...the one where the sun shines again

I won!!
I finally started to feel more and more alive and one day I just felt like my coal shovel-er came back and he brought me some chocolates to apologize for taking an unplanned vacation.
I also had an anniversary in the midst of all this that is always difficult.  My first daughter Madison, who left me at 10 weeks, would have been 5.  My littlest girl Johanna, who also left at 10 weeks would have been 2 in May and my life would be so different.  I miss knowing them, I wish I knew how beautiful they were.  I miss planning birthday parties for them, letting them wear whatever they want, teaching them how to eat whipped cream right from the can and watch them jump in puddles.
I am working on spending more time around positive loving people, loving the people who choose to spend time around me and doing things that makes my confidence continue to grow.  I am getting together with some sweet souls to help create some change in this sad, negative, closed minded, scared, hard town and working on finding the lucky publisher who wants to let my book fly.
Seems as if the financial aide for school will not happen and you know what...I am fine with that, other things will come along and fulfill me, we may again attempt to pursue foster care or maybe I will be on book tour ;)
Thanks for reading, and if anyone wants to talk about depression, miscarriage or just feeling washed over my the tsunamis of life, I don't judge and I am a pretty amazing listener.  It's ok to talk about things that hurt.

Monday, June 20, 2011

man down episode #2..the one where she's reminded to see things differently

Phew, it only went totally dark for a few days.  No flashlights just black, hopeless darkness.  All those who know and love me stand outside doing what makes them feel better thinking it makes me feel better and occasionally they are right.  It's not their fault just as much as it's not mine that they can't get it or fix it; that I can't feel my soul or even anything besides an empty shell of Kat...the cardboard cut out version.  
Kind of interesting to watch how they stand outside trying to raise me up.  Some yell and wave their arms, get frustrated  that they don't have the special mix to put me back together, some stand by quietly awkwardly shuffling feet and hands trying to think of something funny to say but not sure if it will make things worse.."will I make her crawl further into the darkness?"  Some insist on busyness, or eating or being "around", routine, getting out of bed, showering, making the bed, some live on the prayer of constant stroking...."way to go honey, you are still choosing to breath!!" and some rely on my promise to stay in the game, to fight, to stay here, to be me...for you.  
Any way they do it, they are always outside and their voices are always muted sounds coming out of exaggerated, cartoon like, open, slow mo mouths.  They feel bad they can't find the glue, i always have the glue...people should have glue for each other but there is no glue for me....there is time and sheer will.   Typing that sounds like a load of crap bc in the middle i feel i have no will but coming out the other side i see the dirt under my broken, bloodied fingernails from crawling out, that's the will i never give myself credit for.
So, I feel alive but muted and sort of slow and withdrawn but there is life inside.  
You want to know when I can really tell, THE actual moment??  When I'm on the toilet.  Just think about it, when you are in the BR on the toilet and it's just you (pretend you all don't take books or ipods in with you) and i evaluate if i feel alive yet, if i feel real yet, if I'm still cardboard, if there's still just emptiness.  
I was happy, no i was proud of my family and friends.  They are getting this now, they are really learning if they want to keep it real they are going to have roles and they are settling into this.  This is 1 reason I refuse to feel ashamed or keep quiet about this, this has to help someone else feel less alone.  I have my soldiers and they all stand in position when this man is down and I could not live without them...literally.  They are the reason i make it back.  My gratefulness brings me to a place of a small soap box.  Stop looking at the world like everything hates you or owes you something, stop being so damn angry, stop yelling, stop trying to outdo your neighbors hardships, successes or front gardens.  Use every opportunity to stop and i mean STOP, shut the efff up until you work it out in your mind and can spin it to a lesson or a blessin.  if you cant just shut up and try harder next time.
Back to actual happenings; I may, bc somehow i have mad tenacity, still have a shot with $$$ for school so...cool, whatever bc i adapt!  Also my first baby-girl Madison would have been 5 this week and I just watched "rabbit hole" with nicole kidman and it's about the aftermath of a couple whose son dies.  It was not a good choice for this time of me crawling out of my own blackness but i sobbed and imagined her watching me.  I wonder what she looks like and have an urge to turn this into creativity so i will write.
I am thankful for a soft couch, hot water, nice smelling soap and a family that truly loves me and a heart too big to fit in my chest.
Thanks to those who made it to the end of this, you are very caring :)

Saturday, June 18, 2011

contest entry for "who is the person you are most surprised to be friends with?"

As a people pleaser it's no surprise that I am forever friendly.  I am however, grateful and blessed to finally be friends with myself.
Years ago I read "Eat Pray Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert introducing the notion of being one's own comforter.  I filed that profound idea in the "things that will change my life some day" area of my tangled mind with most things that move me one moment and are forgotten the next. 
But I never forgot. It kept coming back to me during times of overwhelming emptiness yet I never had enough self worth to love this girl.
A few months ago a perfect storm of tragedies led me to a cross roads, a bottom, the place where I needed to change who I had become.  I had no self-love but the people around me loaned me enough to hold me up until I started to believe I was worth fighting for.  
This is when Gilberts' words came back to me and I started to see myself as a scared, broken women who needed a friend to love and comfort her unconditionally.  I decided to be my own best friend.  
I can accept her; as I do my other friends, for who she is, quirks, shortcomings and all.  I can sing her praises without feeling boastful.  I can comfort her when no one is there and imagine holding my own hand or stroking my own hair when I need a moment of recovery from these rough seas.
I am lucky enough to know my purpose in life is to be a lover; a soft place in a hard world and there is no better place to start than with me.  If I feel loved I can love others so much more authentically.

Man down...really down episode 1

I have depression and there is no reason to feel badly about that and no reason to be quiet about it.

This is not me being too self revealing or trying to get sympathy (which i don't want), i am using this as an outlet, to get the thoughts out of my head and help anyone who may feel this way and think they are alone.

i have had depression for years but so many times when it would creep up on me i didn't know the signs and also didn't have the self worth to fight it.  now, i know the signs, i have MUCH better coping skills and for the first time ever have the self esteem to want to fight it.

i am on day 3.  a perfect storm of bad news and hormones left me teetering on the line; i could have just had a few justified bad days or tip the other way and its man down....well its man down.  that wasn't my choice.  its like in the movie Ghost when the demons come and take the guys' soul to hell and hes kicking and screaming, that's whats its like.
went to the shrink this morning, part of my get well plan, and he told me I'm presenting well, smiling and such.  its actually not a cover.  the strange part about my depression is that if i can actually get out of bed and through the 1st half hour of the day (which is the HARDEST, loneliest, empty, sad, body feel like its weighs 10000 pounds time of the day) i can laugh and talk and function and you wouldn't know I'm upset.  that's for now and the only way to help you understand why this happens is to use an analogy.
I'm a old time really big ship and i need someone shoveling coal in my belly 24/7 to keep me moving, to keep the fire inside, to keep my lights on.  well, that guy fell overboard or got drunk bc he stopped and no one is shoveling the coal.  the fire is going from raging, to smoldering, to black cold and quiet.  the thing is even when the fire is out the boat has enough momentum to keep sailing for a little while.  that's me functioning, laughing, smiling.  but my fire is out, its so empty and cold inside and its scary as hell.  i just hope my momentum keeps going until i get a replacement coal shovel -er bc that's when it gets really bad.
I'm still talking, I'm keeping my phone on and usually answering it, I'm still crying so i still feel which is good and i have no meds to shut my mind off so that is good (i guess).  its when there is nothing at all that it gets unbearable and i will try to keep up with this blog regardless but no promises.
i told the depression it has the weekend and then its time to get up out my space...we will see.  all i know is i didn't bust my butt over the last 5 months getting my coping skills back and starting to love myself and care about me to let it all be taken by this stupid disorder.  I'm fighting, the best i can
later dudes...  

PS......the song man down by rihanna just came on at the end of this and i never even heard this song....how serendipitous!!