Therapy used to be the bane of my existence. Now that I have the best therapist on the planet (for me) via BetterHelp, it’s not so bad. The whole thing revolves around my time schedule – which can be pretty chaotic – and finally finding (or being gifted by the universe?) a therapist who GETS ME is priceless.

That said, it doesn’t change my thoughts or feelings. It helps me to express them in a safer environment than any other, but the reality is that my kind of depression doesn’t ever really go away. It’s up and down, it doesn’t flip but it rises and falls. And with my mom? It’s basically a pit of hell.

I think the thing that brings me down the most is watching this all play out and not being able to do a damned thing about it. Dementia is like that. No matter what you do, it’s gonna progress. Maybe slowly, maybe quickly. Maybe meds help. They don’t if you’re fighting with the person to even take them.

Mostly, the whole situation makes me both miss AND respect my dad so much more. Sometimes I am so angry that he is gone. Most of the time time I’m just sad. Sad at a level that isn’t just melancholy or blue, but at a level that is a thunderstorm – dark clouds and pouring rain, raging winds and thunder in my head. Sad at a level that I can barely breathe through these days.

But here I am. That counts for something, I suppose. Even still, I feel so useless to everyone around me. I feel useless to my mom because she won’t LET me be useful to her. I feel useless to everyone else because, well, depression. I just stay in my room, and read. I cry but I don’t know why as it doesn’t really let anything out. I wish that someday I would be able to find the words to describe this experience just in case I make it past it and have an opportunity to help someone else.

I hope you all have a pleasant weekend. I appreciate your correspondences and your kindness more than you know. You help me more than you know.

All the love,

C.

My life was crashing

down all around me.

The rubble –

it was ugly

and the cloud of dust it created

was too dense to see through.

I thought I would suffocate.

And then,

there was you…

You saw me through that cloud

when I couldn’t even see myself.

I don’t know how,

or why…

but I could suddenly breathe again…

Because then,

there was you.

C.

Hey y’all. What’s going on in the world of WP?

I’m just gonna put it all out there like it is. I have not been very good at keeping up with this site. I’ve been struggling to keep up with ANYTHING. But clearly, with the new year, it’s societally correct to “start over.” I’m not doing that – I’m just gonna work on the “continuing” of things.

My idea is to simply post.  I have NO plan as to scheduling, post content, or anything else (although I would like to share more of my music here, thanks to the inspiration and advice of my incredibly talented and successful friends Vincent Corver and Andrew Huang).

The best I can do is try to give myself the time and the space I deserve to express myself – that’s been a huge part of what’s been holding me back in the past year. I got back on Facebook for a minute but I just can’t deal with Facebook. There’s no point in trying to share artistically there, and everything else (personal page related) is a great big political downer. I finally just deactivated because I’m so sick of Trump just the mention of his name makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit and almost go into a panic attack.

So. I’ve been focusing on sharing creative links (my own and those of others) via Twitter and Instagram the past couple of days, with a lot more interaction and a lot more friendliness. And now, here I am. Just ready to dump some music and photos and words on ya. Kind of like the old me used to do. I like the old me pretty much the way she was. 😉

With that, I’m gonna shout out my friend Andrew Huang here by sharing one of his recent releases with you and ask you to check it out, and stay tuned for more of my own creative outbursts, as they come.

Thanks for sticking around. Happy new year, y’all. Wishing the best of everything to and for everyone.

Much love,

C.

Today I received the most unexpected “thank you” note. It’s said, “thank you for sharing your story with me,” and had a nice note alongside that spoke about art and creativity and the healing of trauma, grief and broken spirits.

I want to thank YOU, for much the same thing.

I think we often forget that a person’s art IS their story – regardless of the type of art they create – and that’s where I’ve focused my mind this afternoon. When we create any kind of art, even when it’s not a piece of writing that “explains” what’s in our minds, we are actively releasing SOMETHING. Whether it is good or bad, whether it is joy or pain, beauty or darkness, we are actively expressing our hearts in any creative endeavor that we are a part of.

I truly appreciate the kind feedback here, at Instagram, and all the other places. I appreciate YOUR art and stories so much. It’s a wonderful way to remember that we are really all the same, just living our own stories…even when we aren’t sharing our own out loud.

Thank you for the kind response to my sharing of my music. I was really very unsure whether it was “worth” sharing, since I only create it as a hobby. Turns out it’s much like my experience with sharing photography and writing – people enjoy other people’s art, they enjoy SEEING another human being, and you get to know other people who create the same kinds of art, whether it’s photography or writing or music…

I’ve enjoyed “meeting” so many different people since I started putting that stuff out there. It’s a blessing to get to know and learn from you.

It’s always been one of my greatest joys to share my creative pursuits and my spirit with the world. Thank you for encouraging and reminding me how important it is for a creative person and artist of any kind to do that.

I’m thankful for, and blessed by, you. Keep expressing yourselves in your ways, too. And stay awesome.

All the love,

C. 💜

I’m grateful for you today, Internet. 

Let’s be real, as usual. This week SUCKS. Anniversaries like this suck. Today throughout the next week is one great big anniversary of the worst, most traumatic, life altering, bullshit of an experience I’ve faced and surprisingly, I am allowing the anger (at least today). I thought I’d be so sad, or so lost, or so “emotional,” but really? Seems like I’m just pissed off.

I’m not pissed off because it’s a “why me” or an “I wish it was different” thing, because neither of those is true. I’m just mad. I’m mad at the world for being an asshole, and at humanity for abusing and hurting and killing each other.

I don’t want a lot to do with people these days. Today I feel like I’d rather be alone forever than have to face another human being for the rest of my life. Maybe we all have days like this. Do you?

Mostly, for me, that’s because I can’t be alone OR around anyone without being so raw and real in expressing who I am and what I feel (which has always been true of me), and I get so tired of hearing (lately), “It’s just grief. That’s how grief works. You’re just depressed.” So, I’d rather just be alone.

Grief is not depression, although it can contribute (no doubt). Grief is not an emotion or an experience or a thing to me anymore. In my experience and my heart/soul, it is as if it is a very small yet significant creature, very quiet and very cunning, very swift to come and go but never ending in it’s patterns and in the way it sometimes dances, sometimes just hovers, around me.

Grief has become my friend. It has given me some of the most precious gifts – the experience of true solitude, by choice; the beauty of the truest and deepest tears; the realization that it exists as truly and with as much compassion and love for the loss of our living as for the loss of our dead.

I admire grief. I admire the way it adapts itself for every other creature. I love the way it never compromises. I love how reliable it is, even in it’s unpredictability. I never know what each day of my life with grief will bring, but I know without a doubt that if I am there then it will be there, too, and it will be dressed exactly to the nines for whatever my spirit needs on any given day.

I have learned not to hate it, or to dread it, or to resent it. I have learned not to view it the way society likes to “paint” it. I have learned to accept and to allow my attachment to it as a part of who I am, just as my child and my own spirit are a part of me. My anger today is not at grief, or because of grief. 

My anger today is because of my lack of and ever-present inability to control my heart and tears, even when I really need to have a grip on things. My anger is born of exhaustion and from all the dreams I dream when I do sleep, and how those dreams taunt me with the past that was and with the lies of a future that will never exist. 

My anger today is of and at myself – for not being more cautious with those people I have chosen to allow in my life. It is of and with my heart – for not giving me a choice sometimes, of who I love and have loved.

My anger today is toward a version of humanity that has no excuse for the way it behaves, for the way it treats itself and it’s planet. It is for the lack of compassion and openness of heart that has caused so much of the pain in my own, because of my own openness… And, maybe part of my anger is in the fact that we are not made to be alone, which is another blog for another day…

Mostly? I just want silence. I just want all the noise to stop…

But, I as I have written above, I am grateful for you today, Internet. I am grateful to have you to escape to, just as often and as easily as I can escape to nature in my back yard, if nowhere more grand. I am grateful for all of you, out there in the land of Internet, who help me to work through the bad shit and back to the good shit, over and over again, whether you know it or not.

I am grateful for those people, even strangers, who take the time to send me messages and emails with encouraging thoughts, even stories of their own experiences and confusion. I am grateful, most of all, for the memes and the quotes that I receive randomly (like today, on a very hard day) that say things like, “If you could see all the beauty that shines through the cracks of your brokenness the way other people do, you’d see that our suffering is not all for naught.”

All the love to all of you today, despite my struggle to smile or appreciate socialization. The stars help, as in the thumbnail above, and each of you are made of that.

See you around…

C.