In a discussion with my sister-friend Jamie several months ago, I was ragging on myself and refusing to see what Jamie saw as positives instead of just further proof of my failures and deficiencies. I kept insisting that what was done did not outweigh what was undone and even so it wasn't done right or wasn't done quickly enough or wasn't done often enough or wasn't done on time or wasn't done with a good attitude etc etc etc.
Jamie asked me whose voice was I hearing in my head when I took these thoughts to heart. I said primarily my Mom's from childhood but also my Dad's, my brother's and my sister's and of course my husband's and my mother-in-law's. Then she told me that another close friend of hers had a similar problem and she had found it helpful to name her haranguer so she could talk back to her. I promised I would think about that and see if I could come up with a name meaningful to me.
After several days of contemplation I had zeroed in on the finger shaken at my face as was my Mom's practice. And although her tone was much different it put me in mind of the Stella Mudd character from the classic Star Trek series. My mom never yelled let alone screeched like Stella nor did she name-call. She barely raised her voice. But her words dripped with shame and disappointment. Here are some of her favorite phrases that still haunt me today:
Shame on you
Mama's so disappointed
How could you be so _______?
Why can't Mama depend on you?
Why can't you be more _____?
When are you going to _____?
How do you expect to ______ when you can't even ______?
Are you ever going to finish that?
Do I always have to remind you?
No, no not that way, here let me show you (as she takes the tool out of my hands)
That was nice but next time don't you think you could try______?
How many times do I have to say _______?
But don't you think a better way would be ______?
But don't you think _______? (constantly on every topic under the sun and for which the only acceptable answer was 'yes' even if that was a lie)
Recently Jamie and I were talking about how it was working out for me talking back to Stella or telling her to shut up. I was having minimal success and would often find myself experiencing waves of guilt and shame afterwards. Jamie was insistent that i needed to get cross with her, defiant, even violent. "Punch her out" she suggested. Treat her like the bully she is. But I am, by nature and training, very averse to violence and have never found that the response to a bully needs to be becoming a bully. So I let it percolate for a bit and it wasn't long before I came up with a tactic that fit my personality and values.
I can't remember the source but not long ago I heard someone refer to the Southern Lady's FU and demonstrated with a honey-toned "Bless your heart" Now that could work If I could get that refined tone of faux sincerity down. And since one of my superpowers is story I was soon developing related lines along with gestures. I see them as mini-movies in my head.
"Bless your heart." I say when Stella starts harping. And if she doesn't hush immediately I reach out and smooth her hair back and say. "Don't fash yourself dear." Or, "Hush now dear, you are overwrought." Then if she is especially persistent I hold out a cup of hot chamomile tea saying, "There, there dear, I do believe someone needs a nap." Or I will reach out and lay the back of my hand on her forehead and say, "Are you fevered dear? How about a nice little chill pill?"
I've only been trying this for a bit under two weeks now but it does seem to be helping.
I wish I'd found it in time to help me thru the dark month of September that contained the death anniversaries of my dad, my husband and my MIL along with Ed's birthday and the second anniversary of the fire in Southern Oregon that burned out the trailer park we had lived in for over a decade near Phoenix.
Longview lost one of its heroes last month--one of my heroes--and yesterday I attended the Celebration of a Life service held at the Kelso High gymnasium in Kelso WA. A forum necessary to accommodate the size of the crowd turning out to honor this man whose heart was bigger than any I've ever encountered before or since.
Bernard Altman (May 9, 1924-September 8, 2016) was born and raised in New York City and met and married his wife Marcia while they were both teaching at a four teacher school in a small Montana town. They moved to Kelso where he taught history and government at Huntington Jr. High until his retirement in 1976. Close to a third of the attendees yesterday stood up to identify as former students when asked. A remarkable indicator of the positive influence on lives in our community which he wielded.
But that was just the tip of the iceberg because he didn't conduct himself as a typical retiree--sun and surf and RV vacations, TV game show marathons and recliner snoozing? No! He would have none of that. He set out to make his retirement years as significant and as time and energy intensive as his three decades of teaching. He became a political activist and an advocate for social justice and those in dire straights. Especially those unable to advocate for themselves--the mentally ill and their families, senior citizens, the disabled and the homeless.
It was in his capacity as organizer and moderator of a support group for depression and anxiety sufferers that I met him in the late 90s and learned to admire him and care for him and Marcia as deeply as any of my grandparents. For nearly a year of the several that I attended that weekly group he and Marcia picked me up and delivered me back home. Both to take that burden off my parents and to encourage me to participate more openly with the group as it was his insight that their presence was inhibiting me.
It was Bernie's words early in my attendance of the group that lifted the burden of shame I'd carried for decades over this dark nemesis that had plagued me since my pre-teens. He called it a disease that, like diabetes, was a chemical imbalance that left untreated was likely to be fatal. Those words probably saved my life.
He also said that, in spite of popular opinion, depression was no more of a character flaw than diabetes or a broken leg. Because of this I was eventually able to seek professional help. One of my regrets now is that I never got around to contacting Bernie last year to let him know that I'd finally gotten the definitive diagnosis that had so eluded the many professionals I'd encountered over five decades--high functioning autism aka Aspberger's Syndrome.
At the time I bid farewell to the group when my husband got the Silicon Valley job in 1999, Bernie expressed his pleasure and pride in me for how far I'd come since the beginning. A few weeks before that he'd demonstrated his belief and confidence in me by turning the duties of moderator over to me for one of the rare occasions he could not attend. That contributed significantly to a sense of personal competence that carried me through the month that I had to live alone to pack up and close down our house while Ed was in California starting his new job and preparing for my arrival. Something I could not have come close to accomplishing three years earlier.
Bernie was also the first--and still only--editor to accept and publish one of my poems. He was for some years the editor of a special senior citizen newsletter insert for the Longview Daily News and the poem he published was one I'd written to honor my parents fortieth wedding anniversary. Talk about a morale boost!
Bernie's motive for his vigorous advocacy was the impact of mental illness in his own family so it is a sad irony that his death was the result of injuries sustained at the hands of his own son, who has since been deemed not competent to stand trial due to mental illness. I know that Bernie's love for his children was steadfast and that for his son would not have been diminished one iota over this but I also know that he believed that in cases where someone was an imminent danger to self or others they needed to be committed to treatment and if necessary confined and medicated even against their will. He advocated for a better responsiveness from the system to information provided by family and others who know the ill individuals and who are in a position to know when there is a dire need to intervene. In this case the sluggishness of the system failed the community as well as the Altman family--the son as much as his parents and sister.
Read more...
OC87:The Obsessive Compulsive, Major Depression, Bipolar, Asperger's Movie
Bud Clayman, having had his dreams of a film making career interrupted by mental illness some thirty years ago, reaches again for his dreams by making this film portraying his struggles with mental illness. We watch as he and those who witnessed it reminisce about the darkest moments of the major depressive episodes. We are given glimpses into what a typical day looks and feels like for him with his Asperger's social awkwardness in full view and his OCD circular thoughts provided via voice over. And as the story progress we watch his coping skills increase as he implements a makeover of his life with the advice and help of friends, family and therapists. Along the way we witness the healing of relationships, including that with himself, a significant triumph in light of the challenges imposed by Asperger's aka high-functioning autism in which social engagement is severely impaired.
In one scene he acts in a script he wrote based on an episode of Lost in Space that moved him as a child. The one where John Robinson encounters his evil anti-self in another dimension. In Buddy's version he gets to verbally chastise and overcome the bully side of himself that has tormented him for decades with harsh judgement and belittlement.
As I watched that I flashed on the Star Trek episode in which a transporter accident split Kirk into two extreme opposite personalities--docile and aggressive. Kirk learns that neither one of them can survive without the other but only the docile Kirk comprehends this. The aggressive Kirk will accept nothing less than docile Kirk's annihilation so he must be rendered unconscious and held in docile Kirk's arms as they make the trip through the (hopfuly) repaired transporter to me melded back into one complete person. That is the scene I'd want to reenact with my inner bully.
I need to thank Buddy for this monumental achievment and congratulate him for the follow-thru (so difficult for him) in bringing this project from concept to reality. But especially for his courage in giving us this intimate view into his heart, mind and life when one of the major issues he struggles with--high-functioning autism--makes intimacy nearly impossible.
A few year's older than Buddy (HS class of 76) and female, I've struggled with major depressive episodes, chronic anxiety, panic attacks, OCD and ADHD, since before kindergarten. Bipolar was considered several times because of hyperfocus, insomnia, agitation and rapid speech but ruled out because I never had a manic episode not induced by medication and anxiety or sleep deprivation explained the rest. But less than a week ago I was diagnosed with high-functioning autism and my search for more info led me to this film which could not have reached me at a more momentous time.
If for no other reason than the profound effect his story is having on me, OC87 was worth every penny, every minute, every ounce of effort and every emotional angst and personal risk invested in it by everyone who participated. Thank You all from the bottom of my heart.
Based on other reviews on Netflix, I'm sure I'm not the only one so affected. This was important and successful work even if no other metric seems to confirm that. So you tell that to those OCDemons Buddy. And keep telling them until you believe it.
OC87 is for anyone either curious or with a personal need for insight into living with mental illness--yours or someone in your life--including therapists. Buddy and his team have given a spot-on portrayal of what it looks and feels like from inside and out. It humanizes him, revealing him to be much more than the sum of his symptoms and elicits compassion rather than pity and admiration rather than condemnation even when he isn't coming across as very likable.
In the end it is profoundly uplifting because Buddy is obviously on the right path forward, having made visibly significant improvement by his efforts and dedication to 'make over' his life and already had a huge win over his inner demons just by conceiving and following through to the finish with this gift of a film for the community at large--however large you want to define that.
The fact that he was in his mid forties when he made this childhood dream come true shows that it is never too late. Especially if you start believing in the possibility of what seemed impossible and then take the necessary steps toward it in defiance of the demons of doubt--both inner and outer. Right now, in this moment, while still under the influence of Buddy's film I'm again feeling the possibility of reaching for my childhood dream, ending the currently six-month hiatus from writing and finishing one of the dozens of fiction WIP in my files-or a brand new one.
More importantly I understand now that finishing isn't the most important thing--the effort itself is worthy and potentially transforming as I just witnessed.
If I start to doubt again, I will return to watch OC87. (So please, please, please leave it up on Netflix.)
Tho some of his experiences differ from mine, for those that are similar I can testify to their accuracy. I will be referring some of my friends and family to this film for insight into my struggles. Especially the Asperger's aspect.
The only significant difference is in the way my OCD circular thoughts manifest. Instead of fear of acting out on thoughts of violent acts against others, I have an inner tyrannical taskmaster continuously berating me for failing, never allowing me to enjoy a sense of accomplishment by interpreting successes as failure because they never meet the impossibly high standards (like having completed only ten percent of a day's to-do list that contained six weeks worth of tasks) and using these failures as proof that I am a failure--and an excuse to give up.
There are ways other than thoughts that my OCDemons manifest for which I saw no reflection In Bud's experience so I'lll save them for future posts. But I can say that like Bud's mine have nothing to do with hand washing, germs, counting, or checking locks and appliances so well portrayed in culture media to seem synonymous with OCD. There are a myriad of ways obsession and compulsion can manifest alone and together and more than a few have plagued my life.
Keep making films Buddy. I will be watching for more of your work. You are so talented, insightful and honest. The industry and film community needs you and your unique way of seeing the world.
Read more...
Early afternoon. Our whirlwind trip to the Rogue Valley is nearly over.
That's Ed sitting on his Mom's couch with their dog. Bruiser is wearing the hat I made Ed. It's just minutes before I head out the door.
Such a quick trip. Over too soon.
The hours and days and weeks stretch ahead like a tarred road on a hot day. A slow difficult slog with every step feeling like it's glued to the ground.
The recent fumble of our relationship weighs me with fear of a repeat. It was twice in two years. The same weeks of the year. And since I still don't really understand what happened there's nothing substantial to hang onto.
Hope is fragile. Brittle.
The last three weeks will haunt me for the rest of this separation. It still feels raw like a blistering sunburn.
I almost didn't post this picture because looking at Ed here I want to cry. It's like looking in a mirror. He's the picture of depression. He's always had the winter blues but this year is the worst I've seen in 35 years.
And I can't be there to pull him out or at least keep him from sliding further in. It scares me.
If only he would stop self-medicating and seek the help he is requiring me to seek. Maybe then I could spare more attention to my own self-care.
For contrast, remember the picture from two years ago April?
That too was taken just before leaving. Only minutes before Carri and I backed out of the driveway of our house with the second load of our stuff in April 2013. Early in this unwanted separation that began that January...and continues two years later.
Such hope that day. Where did it go?
I guess to be fair I should reveal my own true face:
That's a selfie taken shortly after we arrived in the Rogue Valley late Friday. Tho it was after midnight by this time. Carri had just finished unloading the van and had gone after half and half for our morning coffee. I'd just finished setting up my laptop to prep Friday's post and was taking the picture of the hat I'd just freed from the hook planning to make my post about finishing the hat during the drive.
But I couldn't bear to look at that. It looks like I've been crying for a week. Which is about right if you count the crying on the inside. Looking at it made me want to start crying again. Why would I subject it on anyone else?
That's depression.
Instead I took about a dozen pictures of the hat from different angles laying on the bed or perched on my hand or fist. By the time I had one I liked I was out of energy and could not face the prospect of transferring the picture from my cell to GDrive to my laptop and then opening it in an image editor and prepping it for the post and then prepping the post and then posting to fb.
That felt like another 300 mile trip with me behind the wheel.
That's depression.
With less than five hours before I was planning to show up on my in-law's porch I went to bed. But it was hours more before I slept as I obsessively rehearsed what I hoped to say to Ed or helplessly watched the mini-movies made by my mind playing out possible scenarios. None of which had a happy ending.
Share what you (are, have been, are about to, hope to be) reading or reviewing this week. Sign Mr Linky at Book Journey and visit other Monday reading roundups. The sections of this template:
Intro (here)
Musings
My Week (or two) in Review -- list of books begun or finished and links to recent reviews and bookish posts
Reading Now -- my current reading list broken up into categories
Upcoming -- scheduled reviews and blog tours and list of finished books awaiting reviews)
New Arrivals -- lists of recently acquired books: bought, borrowed, ARC [broken up into snail mail, email and Net Gallery]
Quote: Flannery O'Connor
Mystery and Manners:
Occasional Prose
Musings
It's been over eight months since my last IMWAYR?. A couple of weeks after that our furbaby, Merlin died. Which began the mood roller coaster I've been riding ever since. My mood tanked hard when Merlin got sick but I thought I was making a comeback when another event sent me into a tailspin. Then I lost my counselor. Then I learned my new counselor was revisiting the bi-polar diagnosis after I thought that had been ruled out a year previously.
My mood had taken too many blows in too short a time and I couldn't seem to recover my equilibrium. I lost my joy. Pun totally intended. I lost joy in reading, in writing, in fiber art, in blogging, in social media, in running, in friends, in family, in me. I lost myself. Again.
I think I'm pulling out of it. I've been working hard at it. My new counselor has me practicing mindfulness. I'm returning to personal journaling.
I returned to daily blogging at the first of the year. I joined One Word 365 an alternative to New Year's resolutions in which you choose a word to make the theme of your year and try to do something to incorporate it into every day.
I'm still having mood meltdowns at least once a week but I began to find enjoyment in favorite activities again mid January, including reading. I requested three NetGalley ARC last week. The first in over a year. I finished a book today.
So here's hoping this is the first of a string of regular IMWAYR?
To prep this post I completely revamped the IMWAYR? template I'd been using. I eliminated or consolidated sections and removed from all the lists any book I'd not opened in over 6 months. I can put them back if/when I start reading them again. Most I'll likely have to restart.
Then I added all the books begun since mid summer and made sure each list section had a book image to reflect one of its books. I will occasionally change out those images.
Thomas Covenant Trilogies
Finished this week:
Lord Foul's Bane by Stephen R. Donaldson [Book 1 of The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever] reread -- OWN -- EBOOK
Started this week:
The Glittering World by Robert Levy -- ARC [NetGalley Kindle]
Victorian Fairy Tales Edited by Michael Newton [short stories] -- ARC [NetGalley Kindle]
The Witch of Napoli by Michael Schmicker -- ARC [NetGalley Kindle]
Advanced Bookmarks [neither begun or finished this past week]:
Complexity and the Arrow of Time by (multiple authors) --ARC -- EBOOK
All Things Wise and Wonderful by James Herriot-- LOAN -- EBOOK
What to Do When There's Too Much to Do by Laura Stack -- OWN -- EBOOK (Part of my attempt to organize my life around my priorities. So part of my ROW80 reading list)
13 Ways of Looking at the Novel by Jane Smiley -- LIBRARY -- TREE
You Are a Writer So Start Acting Like One by Jeff Goins -- OWN -- EBOOK
__Fiction:
The Fierce and Unforgiving Muse by Gregory L. Norris [short stories] -- OWN -- EBOOK
If I Loved You, I Would Tell You This by Robin Black [short stories] -- LOAN -- EBOOK
The Complete Stories by Flannery O'Connor [short stories]-- OWN -- EBOOK
The Glittering World by Robert Levy -- ARC [NetGalley Kindle]
Victorian Fairy Tales Edited by Michael Newton [short stories] -- ARC [NetGalley Kindle]
The Witch of Napoli by Michael Schmicker -- ARC [NetGalley Kindle]
___Books I've Finished Awaiting Reviews (non blog tours):
Whenever I'm not pinned to a date like with the blog tours I do very poorly at getting reviews written in a timely way after finishing books and the longer I wait the harder it gets. This is an issue I'm working on and hope to get a system in place to smooth the track from beginning book to posting review.
Series:
Jan Karon's Mitford series. The short lighthearted chapters of these books are almost like stand-alone short stories with beloved characters and make great bedtime reading for adults wanting pleasant dreams. Read them aloud to my Mom Feb 10 2014: We just finished the last one, In the Company of Others but have heard there is a new one and need to check on that.
At Home in Mitford
A Light in the Window by Jan Karon
These High, Green Hills by Jan Karon .
Out to Caanan by Jan Karon
A New Song by Jan Karon.
A Common Life: The Wedding Story by Jan Karon
Shepherds Abiding by Jan Karon
In This Mountain by Jan Karon
A Light From Heaven by Jan Karon -- the final book in the Mitford series.
At Home in Holly Springsby Jan Karon -- Father Tim series first of two. Features Father Tim from the Mitford series having adventures beyond Mitford after his retirement from Episcopal priest duty. In this one he returns to the town he grew up in.
In the Company of Others by Jan Karon -- Father Tim series second of two. In this one he and Cynthia have a several week vacation in Ireland from where his father and grandfather had immigrated
Grace Chapel Inn series published by Guidepost which I'm now reading to Mom. New volumes will come in the mail monthly. We are loving it. Maybe even more than the last half of the Mitford and Father Tim volumes. Three sisters ages 50, 62 and 70 inherit jointly their family home after their father's death. A Victorian in a very small town situated next door to the church their father pastored. They decide to turn it into a Bed and Breakfast so they can afford to keep it and live in it. We finished the tenth one the second week of January.
Back Home Again by Melody Carlson
Going to the Chapel by by Rebecca Kelly
Recipes and Wooden Spoons
Hidden History
Winter Wonders
Portraits of the Past
All in the Timing
Promises to Keep
Slices of Life
Home for the Holidays
Herriot's All Creatures: another series I'm reading to Mom. We are reading these while we wait for the next Grace Chapel book to arrive in the mail.
All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot-- LOAN -- EBOOK
All Things Bright and Beautiful by James Herriot-- LOAN -- EBOOK
Wicked Another series for which I'll probably do a single review. I think there is a 5th book out now so I may wait until I can get my hands on it. These four were loaners from my niece.
Witch by Nancy Holder and Debbie Viguie -- LOAN -- TREE
Curse by Nancy Holder and Debbie Viguie -- LOAN -- TREE
Legacy by Nancy Holder and Debbie Viguie -- LOAN -- TREE
Spellbound by Nancy Holder and Debbie Viguie -- LOAN -- TREE
Thomas Covenant Trilogies
Thomas Covenant
Lord Foul's Bane by Stephen R. Donaldson [Book 1 of The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever] reread -- OWN -- EBOOK
Fiction:
The Land of Decoration by Grace McClean -- ARC-- OWN -- TREE
The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff -- LIBRARY -- TREE
Losses by Robert Wexelblatt an -- ARC-- OWN -- EBOOK
After: The Shock by Scott Nicholson -- ARC-- OWN -- EBOOK This is post apocalyptic horror with zombies. I anticipated enjoying this even tho zombies are not my favorite horror theme because I really enjoyed his The Red Church and I did but probably not to the same degree. And its continued.
Pie Town by Lynne Hinton -- LOAN -- EBOOK
Good in Bed by Jennifer Wiener -- LOAN -- EBOOK
Certain Girls by Jennifer Wiener (sequel to Good in Bed) -- LOAN -- EBOOK
Joyland by Stephen King -- LOAN -- EBOOK
Rose Fire by Mercedes Lackey -- LOAN -- EBOOK
The Nano Experiment by Richard Brawer -- OWN -- EBOOK
420 Characters by Lou Beach -- LIBRARY -- TREE
Rough Draft by Michael Robertson Jr. and Dan Dawkins -- OWN -- EBOOK
Autism Goes to School by Sharon A. Mitchell -- OWN -- EBOOK
Silver Lake by Peter Gadol -- OWN -- EBOOK
Non-Fiction:
Boys Will Be Joysby Dave Meurer -- OWN -- TREE
Write Good or Die!edited by Scott Nicholson -- OWN -- EBOOK-- a collection of essays by inde authors --ROW80 reading list
Writing in General and the Short Story in Particular by Rust Hills onetime fiction editor at Esquire-- OWN -- TREE
Imagine: How Creativity Worksby Jonah Leher-- LOAN -- EBOOK
The Power of Habitby Charles Duhi-- LOAN -- EBOOK
Get Your Loved One Soberby Robert Meyers-- OWN -- EBOOK (Research for a fiction WIP)
The Road to Success in NaNoWriMo: Your Guide to a Month of High Speed Writing by Terri Main-- OWN -- EBOOK
50 ways to get Ideas for Blog Posts by Dylan Varian-- OWN -- EBOOK
Area 51 by Annie Jacobsen -- LIBRARY -- AUDIO
From Where You Dream by Robert Olen -- LIBRARY -- TREE
Memoir/Biography
Mama Makes Up Her Mind and Other Dangers of Southern Living by by Bailey White -- OWN -- TREE -- a memoir. It's short little vignette chapters and easy to read font made it ideal for taking with me to doctor appointments. Which is how I managed to finally finish it.
Never Give in to Fearby Marti MacGibbon -- ARC-- OWN -- EBOOK This was a memoir of an addict's decent into the abyss and rise back out again and was quite engrossing.
One of the signs that things have gotten real bad mood wise is when I stop reading. Tho I never stopped entirely this fall/winter it had slowed to a trickle and the ability to compose my thoughts about what I was reading dried up entirely.
I find that depression is a bigger handicap than visual impairment for reading.
But, as bad as it has been. things must be looking up as I've been reading more again recently. More often, more pages per day, more minutes at a stretch, more complex material. And finding myself as I read with things to say about it. So maybe its time to bring book reviews back into the mix.
Last week I grabbed two 'read now' ARC off NetGalley and requested another and am contemplating requesting a fourth. Seeing how I've not posted reviews for months and did not provide feedback on any in the last batch of NetGalley ARCs in late 2013 I'm not holding out much hope for any requests. But my chance for future requests would go up if I read and review these two pronto:
Victorian Fairy Tales
Edited by Michael Newton
Oxford University Press
Pub Date May 1 2015
Description
The Victorian fascination with fairyland is reflected in the literature of the period, which includes some of the most imaginative fairy tales ever written. They offer the shortest path to the age's dreams, desires, and wishes. Authors central to the nineteenth-century canon such as Thackeray, Oscar Wilde, Ford Madox Ford, and Rudyard Kipling wrote fairy tales, and authors primarily famous for their work in the genre include George MacDonald, Juliana Ewing, Mary De Morgan, and Andrew Lang. This anthology brings together fourteen of the best stories, by these and other outstanding practitioners, to show the vibrancy and variety of the form and its ability to reflect our deepest concerns.
The stories in this selection range from pure whimsy and romance to witty satire and darker, uncanny mystery. Paradox proves central to a form offered equally to children and adults. Fairyland is a dynamic and beguiling place, one that permits the most striking explorations of gender, suffering, love, family, and the travails of identity. Michael Newton's introduction and notes explore the literary marketplace in which these tales appeared, as well as the role they played in contemporary debates on scepticism and belief. The book also includes a selection of original illustrations by some of the masters of the field such as Richard Doyle, Arthur Hughes, and Walter Crane.
The Witch of Napoli
Michael Schmicker
AuthorBuzz
Palladino Books
Pub Date Jan 15 2015
Description
Historical fiction with a paranormal twist, set in Italy and England in 1899.
Inspiring Joy The box is the second one I got for myself on Saturday. The peacock watercolor was done by my mom when in college.
Last year I lost my joy. Double entendre fully intended for it was both my happiness and my self that eluded me.
The cause seems irrelevant at this point. Whether it was the first anniversary of the last hug goodbye Ed and I exchanged the previous May 11: the illness and death of our furbaby, Merlin in late spring; the ongoing stresses of the January 2013 lifequake aftershocks; the loss of my counselor in September; the disappoint as realization sank in that my husband and I would be spending second holiday season apart--missing both our birthdays, our anniversary, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years; or it was merely the latest wave front of the mood disorder I've weathered with various levels of gracelessness since my tween years--it hardly seems to matter. At this point it is just a given.
Two incidents turned a nasty, blustering situation into a perfect storm: the one I related in my Round 3 wrap-up last September and the intake appointment with the mental health clinic at which a potential bi-polar diagnosis was revisited just a year after my med nurse at the family clinic had ruled it out, taking my hope that continuing the campaign of healthy choices of the last two years would lead to my ultimate goal of getting off all the meds.
At some point writing stopped invoking passion and bliss and became duty, lists, goals, charts, measures, chores. I found myself spending more time with the activities of keeping track and analyzing and writing posts about it than actually writing the creative works.
I can't go back to that. Which creates a conundrum: How do I participate in ROW80 without getting lost in those minutia when the very purpose is to set measurable goals?
This is why I unintentionally dropped out for round four: I couldn't solve it. Thus I couldn't write my intentions post. There was also an element of not wanting to set expectations in order to protect myself from the inevitable failure.
I was drowning in failure already.
But I miss the community--the encouragement, the sense of belonging, the sharing, the inspiration.
Tho I stopped blogging, I didn't stop writing altogether until after NaNo. I completed my 11th NaNo but for the first time I didn't enjoy it.
On January 1st I joined One Word 365 choosing the word 'joy' as my focus for 2015. This is a new social network for those seeking an alternative to New Year's resolutions. The idea is to focus on one word that sets a theme for your year, looking for ways to meaningfully incorporate it into every day. Nearly every post this week has given a nod to 'joy'.
In the spirit of One Word 365 I'm making regaining the joy writing has nearly always held for me my ultimate goal for ROW80 2015. Tho one might say that is measurable in the sense that you either have it or you don't it isn't really in the spirit of a ROW80 goal since it doesn't entail actionable tasks.
So let me put it this way: I'm aiming for a return of the joy of writing. At the end of each round and the end of the year I'll be judging success by the level of its presence instead of word-count. The actionable tasks that I believe will prepare the soil for the blooming of joy/Joy are as before all time investment:
Storydreaming 15min Daily (I never lost this one since instating it in my first round in 2012. A ROW80 win!)
Read/Study Craft 15min Daily
Move/Breathe/Meditate 15min Daily
Personal Journaling 15min Daily
Read Fiction 30min Daily
Social network activities 30min Daily (writing Joystory posts doesn't count only social reaching out like reading/commenting on other blogs, guest posts and posting to fb, twitter, pinterest etc)
That last was one of the first things I let fall by the way when the lifequake overwhelmed me in early 2013 and I now suspect it played a part in losing the joy associated with blogging and being a part of NaNo, JuNoWriMo, ROW80, IMWAYR? and other networks and support groups. I sank into isolation and took more than I gave.
I'm feeling quite emotionally fragile this week so I'm not going to set any expectations regarding creative writing files--fiction, poetry, essay--yet. I'm hoping to be able to revise for that before the end of this round.
I fully intend (and am even looking forward to) returning to work on the structural rewrite of Blow Me a Candy Kiss but it would be setting myself up for failure to make a specific commitment at this time. Sometime in the next two weeks I will make a commitment for the following week to open the file and reread the story and familiarize myself with what I was doing with it before I set it aside for NaNo.
This fall was a rough ride with my mood a roller-coaster laboring up the inclines towards happy only to zip in a blink into the dips and getting stuck there for a time before beginning the climb again. I lost interest in many of my regular passtimes but hung onto a few including the ongoing sorting/organizing project, videos (Star Trek and 3rd Rock from the Sun) and fiber arts. I often combined videos with one of the other two.
Thesethings I still found enjoyable and thus continued to find myself still able to enjoy. Lifesaving! No lie.
One of my goals for 2014 was to finish more projects than I started--especially in fiber arts. By midsummer I'd neither started nor finished many at all so in late August I set out to see how many I could finish before Christmas. I lost count around a dozen in late October. I've no idea if I met my goal tho as I started well over a dozen new ones between Halloween and Christmas--gifts and ornaments.
The picture above shows 7 of the items I'm making for Mom. Some of them were in progress before the late summer push but I began several more. With her birthday being January 3rd I had to prepare two sets of gifts. These are not all as I gave her three small items for Christmas--a bookmark, a bracelet and a crocheted bow hairpin. The items in the picture are the remainder of the smallish items that I still have hopes of finishing before her party begins at noon tomorrow:
a pad for her tray to keep her plate or bowl from sliding
another tray pad
a flower hairpin
a bow hairpin
a bracelet
a necklace
a drawstring bag for her heart magnifier
I never got close on any of the bigger items I planned for her: legwarmers, scarf, hat, muff, lap blanket, apron...
Well if I don't get with it, I won't be handing her any new packages tomorrow...today actually as it is now less than nine hours before we leave.
One Word 365 suggests that instead of New Year's Resolutions we choose one word to make the theme of our year, to focus on daily in whatever way encourages an increase in or fulfillment of its essence.
To further such an aim they have provided a kind of social network/support group for those who'd like to give it a try.
I'm thinking of joining and if I do I'm choosing JOY as my word.
For obvious reasons I think. And the pun is fully intended.
JOY because it is the light at the end of the tunnel of depression which has been my struggle for decades.
JOY because it is my name and thus my sense of self, my identity, my life theme, my aspiration.
JOY because, whether having lost myself stole my joy or having lost my joy hid my self from my sight, seeking after either joy or Joy has to be the path toward reclaiming both and I've come to believe I can't have one without the other.
I can't say my heart's really in this right now.
I'm hoping that will come.
Truly, my heart has not been in much of anything for months.
Not even in me.
Well then, one word
One day at a time
It's worth a try.
Read more...
One Word 365 suggests that instead of New Year's Resolutions we choose one word to make the theme of our year, to focus on daily in whatever way encourages an increase in or fulfillment of its essence.
To further such an aim they have provided a kind of social network/support group for those who'd like to give it a try.
I'm thinking of joining and if I do I'm choosing JOY as my word.
For obvious reasons I think. And the pun is fully intended.
JOY because it is the light at the end of the tunnel of depression which has been my struggle for decades.
JOY because it is my name and thus my sense of self, my identity, my life theme, my aspiration.
JOY because, whether having lost myself stole my joy or having lost my joy hid my self from my sight, seeking after either joy or Joy has to be the path toward reclaiming both and I've come to believe I can't have one without the other.
As you might imagine, I've been collecting 'joy' themed things for decades knickknacks, jewelry, art, quotes, songs, movies, crafts, stories, poems...
Assuming I'm about to join this challenge, I'll begin by resharing a poem I wrote about a moment of joy I experienced that happened to be captured on film:
Joy Splashed by Joy Renee
______________________________________One _________________________________ spring _______________________afternoon at Seaside, __________________Oregon, while walking _______________barefoot upon damp sand _____________at the edge of a rising tide, ___________dabbling my toes in timid ________wavelets and kicking liquid _______diamonds at purple-tongued
______Tia, who distributes them freely
_____with shakes of her shaggy mane,
____I looked up to watch clouds cavorting
___over cyan canyons dodging the tickling
__fingers of shadow and light and gulls performing
_their errant air-ballet upon the fickle breezes. With my
gaze thus engaged, the sea embraced me round my ribs with salty ecstasy, lifting me for one eternal instant out of the grip of gravity.
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