A Discouraging Word

I've been in a weird pattern the last few weeks. Every good day, whether I was productive, wrote about Merwinsville, or the weather was nice, was followed by two days of being unproductive, not writing, or cold/raw/foggy/rainy weather. Even last Saturday's beautiful weather took a sudden change for the worse--it plunged by about 10 degrees in a few minutes and just kept getting colder. The Mets season start has been underwhelming. Overall, it's been disheartening, depressing, and frustrating. 

So, I've been trying to focus on the positive. I've seen many more beautiful daffodils since I saw my first spring blossom. That always makes me happy. The forsythia are turning yellow. The Mets had a promising home opener, winning 5-0, reaching a winning record of 4-3 for the season.

I still have more to-dos than I know what to do with. I knocked off a few items this week. It gives me a little boost to cross off to-dos. I just have to keep plugging away. 

Murky Morning; Dreary Day

Murky morning is how a WCBS--radio anchor described today. It's been a murky week or so. Many mornings have been both foggy and soggy. I wondered if we had suddenly been relocated to the Pacific Northwest or even London. Unfortunately, none of these soggy days gave us the rain we desperately need, but tomorrow and Friday may bring that.

I listened to the radio on my trip to the dentist (not like Veronica's.) It was my first visit in a year. I had postponed my six month checkup when I thought the Covid-19 shutdown would only last for a month. 

I've never talked politics with my dentist before, but today he said something like there was an agenda to shut down New York City. He turned on a video in which a doctor said kids needed to go to school without mitigating factors such as masks and social distancing. He didn't even start to look at my teeth. I told him I didn't want to watch the video. Later we had a more normal conversation for us about the Mets. 

It got me thinking about how murky the whole world is now. I can't understand how people can deny the Covid-19 virus. I don't like wearing masks, but can't understand how it violates someone's civil rights. 

It's one week until the election. I haven't voted because I had volunteered to be a poll worker. They don't need me, and I tossed my mail-in ballot. Oh well, we'll go early. One article suggested you should carry your own pen. Our polling place uses another kind of marker; I don't want to chance a pen. I can carry disinfectant wipes or wear gloves. That should work. 

Funk and Frustration

I've been in a funk for about three weeks now.

I can't seem to get anything done or make any progress. I've barely written, haven't gone to the gym, and have stacks of papers and books all around me that need to be organized, filed, put away, etc. Needless to say, the condo is a mess.

About 95 percent of this is on me. I'm prone to procrastination, I'm easily distracted and inefficient..

The 5 percent?  Those were times when I was ready to do something but didn't have the information I needed.

It didn't help my mood to deal with several days of snow. Only one snowfall was significant--eight inches. Yes, I know we've had a mild winter with very little snow. But it was like a punch to the gut to get our biggest storm in March. In January or February, it would have been expected.

Now it's warming, so we'll have several days of puddles and mud. Ugh.

I know that I need to do things--any step in the right direction--to get out of this funk.I need to do more than the minimum: something.

Black Cloud

Three years ago, I wrote about a black cloud. I felt that not only was it hovering over me, but it was also stalking me. It was a dark time. Nine days later, we put Spike to sleep. Unfortunately, I feel that black cloud is hovering again.

Here's a list of what I'm dealing with: my mother's broken hip and subsequent care, power of attorney for my mother, my car or lack thereof (I sold it and cancelled registration--now I need a replacement) aftermath of Lola being lost for an hour at Taylor Farm--she's grounded--tethered--for life.

What else? Well, I've certainly let the condo go: papers and books piled everywhere and dust. I've got both a major and a minor work project. The information I need to complete the small project isn't available yet. I can't even get control over one little thing.

As I sit here writing, I'm thinking about all the things I should be doing instead. I was up early to take Jeff to the railroad station. Then Lola and I spent an hour at Taylor Farm. She didn't seem to mind being on the leash. There were some good scents apparently. I wasn't as happy since I was a mosquito buffet.

Now I've got to get some work done.

A Week (Plus) in the Life

Yesterday marked two months since Spike died. We're still mourning and missing him. I went on a bit of a crying jag the other night after listening to Always and Forever. I used to sing that to Spike.

Last week we had a home visit from a representative from BONES. We've been approved to adopt a beagle; we just have to wait for the right one. We're not quite ready ourselves, but wanted to start the process.

Jeff and I went hiking at Devil's Den on Saturday, when temperatures reached 50 degrees. We used to go there often; one summer we hiked the entire 20 miles of trails. But no dogs are allowed, so we haven't been there in about 15 years. It felt great to be hiking again. The only downside was that the trails were muddier than I expected.

I did a decent amount of work on a long term project that I've been procrastinating about. I was confident about getting the first part finished before I have a meeting about it next week. Then I blew it off this weekend--a perfect time to get some work done. Sigh.

I've been in a bit of a cooking mode lately. We had been in a bit of a dinner menu rut. I found a recipe that sounded great. Lemon Basil Shrimp Risotto. It was my first time making risotto--it was pretty labor intensive and we kept talking about the risotto problems on Top Chef. Unfortunately, we were disappointed. It didn't taste as good as we expected. The previous day I made steak with romesco sauce--that was delicious, and a flank steak chili yesterday. Jeff is thinking of making coq au vin next weekend. I guess the cooking mode is catching. Next weekend we're also going to dinner at a dog park friend's place. She's an excellent cook, and it will be fun to see the gang again.

Spring training has started. In a few weeks, we may catch a game or two on TV. It's funny to hear the Mets referred to as the National League Champions. It wasn't a dream after all.

The Stalking Black Cloud

It's been three weeks since my last post. I never intended to take such a long hiatus. I figured I'd write about getaway day, Thanksgiving, Black Friday and/or Jake-sitting.

Instead, I was too busy, too pre-occupied, ultimately too depressed. I don't want to list all the bad things, all the things that have gone wrong for me. I'll  focus on two things.

The first is Spike. We've been managing the tumor on his heart for a year.  But now the tumor's growing. Spike has nodules on his liver and a diseased gall bladder. He sleeps most of the day and hardly walks. He's become a finicky eater. The vet says he could have another two days, two weeks or two years. With all his health problems, the two years seems like a dream. He's on six different meds.We're very worried about him: glad that he's not in any kind of pain, but sad to see how tough daily activities are for him.

Here's the second bad thing. Last week I was leaving for a tutoring appointment. As I put on my raincoat, my wedding ring caught on something, hard enough to hurt my finger. When I looked at my left hand, the diamond from my engagement ring was gone. I only had a few minutes to search that day. I was literally heading out the door--no luck. Later searches also proved fruitless. I moved my hand across the surface of the rug, swept the hardwood with a tiny broom and pan, shined a flashlight in the dark to try to get a glint of diamond.

I began to feel that I was living under a black cloud. Later I wondered if the black cloud was actively stalking me. Things felt that bad.

Things are less bleak now. But the black cloud is hovering.

On Coping, Self-Medicating and Writing

I was in one of my funks last Monday: discouraged and dejected. I responded in a few different ways: I went to the gym, I took Spike to the dog park, I had another gin and tonic, and I wrote. 

One of these things is not like the other. Going to the gym and dog park are good for me. They get me out of the house and get me thinking about other things. Exercise is a stress reliever; walking around the dog park with Spike is relaxing.  It's hard to stay angry or depressed when Spike is smiling at me. Just look at him.

Now, about drinking: there's nothing wrong with enjoying cocktails, but there is a danger in self-medicating too much.

That brings me to writing. Most of my writing is in the form of journaling, usually morning pages. Morning pages are a great place to vent. Sometimes (unfortunately rarely) the pages provide some kind of insight.

Several months ago, I decided to write a piece about a woman--Amy--who reluctantly went home for Thanksgiving. Amy didn't want to go home, but felt obligated. There was some kind of family dysfunction, but I didn't determine what it was. Amy left Monday to travel home, but stayed in a hotel for two nights, to avoid dealing with her mother. She self-meditated by drinking, smoking a joint, taking Valium.

Amy was not only going home for Thanksgiving, but also for a family wedding. As I wrote, things happened that I hadn't thought about previously, For example, the wedding was between Amy's cousin and her old boyfriend.

When I opened the file a few weeks ago to continue Amy's story, I didn't have any kind of plan or outline. I just started writing and things happened.

This is one thing I love about writing. Sometimes the piece takes on a life of its own. I still don't know what's going to happen. But I'll continue to write.

Worries

I used to laugh when my mother lay awake at night worrying about things, especially things only tangentially related to her, such as the death of a member of the The Flying Wallendas.

I'm not laughing anymore. I now have the same bouts of sleeplessness. Last night, technically this morning, I woke up around 5:30 thinking about cleaning I didn't do. Last week I woke up one thinking I forgot to input my hours for work. Sometimes I worry about not saving enough for retirement. Sometimes I worry about random things--why didn't I tell Donna why I was mad at her; why didn't I go out with Don?

It may not help in the dead of night, but I feel better when I wallow in my worries by listening to this.  And this one is the most upbeat worry kind of song. I feel better already.

Woe was me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aahtK6W7l78

I had been stuck in the funk that I recently wrote about. Willpower wasn't enough to get me through it.

Today, I woke up feeling pretty good--I wonder if it was the days wallowing in self pity that got me through.

It reminds me of something I learned studying for the New York bar exam. When I got too stressed, I'd imagine the worse: I'm going to flunk, I'll never pass, I'll never be able to get a job. Somehow giving myself permission to worry allowed me to get beyond my troubles and back to work. (I passed.)

Allowing myself to feel sorry for poor, poor pitiful me with my ten thousand troubles and million woes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRv_FLqvnR4 helped me look beyond myself. I guess I got bored with my troubles and woes. I know I'm a lucky and privileged person. I've got skills, resources and support, therefore, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-OO9LloDSJo

Ups and Downs

And now I've been torn up before
But I can handle that once more
I've been down for a long, long time
But now it's time to ease my mind

From Ups and Downs: Paul Revere and the Raiders

One thing about looking up lyrics online is that you find discrepancies. I think these lyrics are correct. They've been running in my head the last few days.

On Wednesday, for a brief gaudy hour (apologies to Margaret Campbell Barnes whose novel of Anne Boleyn had the same title) I felt mellow and peaceful. I had a nice morning walk with Spike at the dog park, a good workout at the gym, then I did a little writing and worked on my to do list.

By Thursday, however, I was both depressed and angry. It's a tough realization that members of your family are determined to ruin your life as best they can.

I'll rise above the depression and I'll channel the anger. I won't let them get me down again.