night/morning therapy #24: the new order

long after-dinner shadows

of gardening battles

blood smells of earth & lavender

tastes of tomato and lemon thyme

bathe away the thorn’s prickle

daub nose spray on mosquito itch

scrub nails to almost clean

rub skin with orange-scented cream

tomorrow more [dead] heads to roll

bushes to teach self-control

I realized after the last few therapy posts that the original format: thankful and self-like just ain’t going to hold together. The idea was for me to embrace the positive as much as a depressed jaded cynic can. Which means I write about the crap in my life rather than meditate on the little moments of bliss. Not that I’m ungrateful – I’ll take nano-seconds of bliss – or there is nothing much I like about myself (tho I tend to take my cues from others on that one).

So, I still want to try and find the positive, (even when I’m despondent to the point of atrophy), meditate on what’s okay about me (even when I hate myself down to atom/DNA level), but to give myself a break – a poem, a quote, a reblog and then some meditation of a sort can be my night/morning therapy too.

Like tonight, I wrote about being out in the garden after supper (and my 4th steroid pill; 2 day, then 15 more over 5 days) then coming in to literally lick my battle wounds. I hate wearing gloves of any sort – even in the winter. Something about having my hands encased (and I prefer bare feet, ugly toes and all) in plastic, wool, linen, cotton gives me the creeps. Think it’s a re-occurring nightmare from going to church with my Grandmother – crinoline scratching my legs, hat pinching my head and stupid white gloves. I look at white and it gets stained. I spent the sermons studying the stained glass windows and the plaques for war dead (including my great-uncle in WW1). I mouthed the hymns (my singing voice was not allowed – I’d be too embarrassed anyway).

I hated every minute; I knew very young that my grandmother was evil, so time spent with her was usually torture (in my mind; not physically) – and not just having to sit through sermons. I learned to like hats – ball caps, men’s hats, straw hats with flowers – but never gloves. So I get scratched, pricked.

Usually get contact dermatitis on my arms and legs from something I brush against in the garden, on the train, in the mall, anywhere. I was badly bitten by mosquitos in California in the mid-1980s – the bites didn’t go down for over 2 months, and often erupted again for a couple of years if I got too hot, so when a mosquito gets me good, I follow my dad’s “cure.” He got sensitive from time in South East Asia.

What do I like about myself: I can talk around what I should be talking about! Or, as one of my professors said, I could start to answer a question with no idea what the right answer was, and by the end convince my audience I knew it all along, and if wrong, somehow was still right. Not a bad skill to re-hone for blogging. Winking smile

IMG_20160708_031331075

My kitchen, at night, while I write at the table.

Advertisements

7 thoughts on “night/morning therapy #24: the new order

  1. Sheri July 19, 2016 / 11:45 am

    I’m all for mixing things up and not having a strict format. I couldn’t write otherwise – even if the rules are my own I’d still rebel against them. I hope things get better for you soon.

    Like

  2. Dizzy Chick July 16, 2016 / 9:00 pm

    I like a lot about you, take your cues from me.
    I hope this round of steroids is kinder than others have been.
    I know you are going through…have been living in…a rough time.
    I don’t know when things might get better.
    Just know I’m always here.
    I’m your friend.
    ….loving the new header picture.
    xoxo

    Like

  3. wildchild47 July 16, 2016 / 6:14 pm

    It’s all about finding the right format and way – and you know, there is no ONE RIGHT way. So sitting and listing doesn’t work for you? No problems. You see, despite your resistance to all of this, you’re still trying – which means you have hope and dreams and want to feel better, so you come up with something different, that for now, holds you closer to the truth, your truth, makes it easier to think on and write around, up down, over the hills and sliding down the valleys until you very easily try to sneak in through, like a thief in the night, hoping we wouldn’t notice? LOL …. yeah, okay – so what? Still noticed and it’s okay if it works for you.

    Part of the “problem” lies in us believing and thinking we “should” be able to comfortably say: okay here I list – bang bang bang – but when it’s that tough? Well, journey where you are inspired, and then make it your own, or find what you will need to offer or remind yourself – it’s far better than just sitting down and then beating yourself up because you can’t do it one way – and hence can’t face yourself either.

    As for the ‘roids? I hope that you will be able to get through this with less trouble – and that you will have some relief – I’m guessing from what you’ve already discussed in other posts and in comments with others, that it’s not a good thing and it can make the BP2 even harder …. so sending you tons more gentle hugs and really good thoughts (((((((hugs)))))))

    Like

    • taleweavering July 16, 2016 / 6:56 pm

      Thanks — it’s been 2 years since my last time on them — had to take them twice, but it did reduce the pain in my face. This is a lower dose, which might mean I don’t go insane.
      Not long after I was finally diagnosed but getting no mental health help, I was put on steroids and the dr forgot to mention the interaction. Four days later I was back asking to be institutionalized! I stopped that time! LOL
      2 years ago, I kept screwing up on trains and train stops, and burst into tears IN PUBLIC. I swore when I was five, I’d never cry in front of anyone, and held pretty tightly to that one, and there I am on a crowded public transit during the morning commute. Both times the conductors took pity and gave me free tickets to where I needed to go, though once, I just went home and called my therapist!
      So, I’m ready. My antidepressants aren’t working anyway, cut back on my bipolar mood stabilizer because it f’d up my thyroid, so here we go into the jungle.
      Thanks for understanding.

      Liked by 1 person

      • wildchild47 July 16, 2016 / 11:25 pm

        Oh the interactions, the interactions – well, here’s sending you really positive thoughts and prayers and hugs that this isn’t going to be such a rough time – ((((Phylor))))

        Like

I love dialogue. Do you?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s