Man wonders, but God decides,
When to kill the Prince of Tides....
("The Prince of Tides", Pat Conroy)
I need to be up front about something. About why I am filled with sadness.
(Never let it be said that I'm not up front about what I'm thinking, right? You know you will never get anything but abject honesty with me, good or bad.)
But first, allow me to tell you how my world has been changing lately. Because, as you know, I have a lot of therapy going on. The mobile therapist comes on Wednesdays to make sure I get out of the house for at least one day in the week, even if it's only for a walk. Then on Thursdays I go to the Center for 2 things, my 1:1 hour-long appointment with my therapist, and my 2-hour DBT group overseen by my therapist and a second therapist---and it's very intense. It's look-you-deep-into-your-eyeballs intense. And then on Fridays, my case manager comes to my house to review the week's therapy and results.
All of this is time-consuming and draining. It's draining because when you have 4 therapists in your head every week, and you're trying to learn the stuff they're trying to teach you, AND you have paperwork homework to do.....well, it's exhausting.
Also, one of my diagnoses is severe PTSD and one of the nice little benefits of that is that I get very poor sleep, causing me to be fatigued all the time. I have a repetitive nightmare pretty much 3 or 4 times a week on the average. And I also have frightening flashbacks at the drop of a hat---even seeing something on TV can trigger one---or a song, or a poem....anything. Also, the side effects of a couple of my meds is fatigue and sleepiness. Very frustrating when you're trying to get things done. And also, I feel a lot of guilt about causing my family so much money in expenses for my psychological treatment. I am not insured and so expenses must be paid for in cash. My meds alone cost nearly $3,000.00 a month. And my therapists cost nearly $8,000 a month. Yes, I feel a lot of guilt.
Next, I have taken up a new hobby of jewelry-making. I took this hobby up because of 2 reasons: one, my psychiatrist's urging for me to take up something other than knitting as he feels knitting has become "too automatic" for me. The other reason is because my Mumsy, a very lovely, talented artist, feels the same way---and so she has sent me hundreds of dollars of supplies for that new hobby. And then Blaine built me my studio to perform it in. (Between the two of them, I have everything I need for this new hobby.)
So my new studio has become my sanctuary---where all my hobbies are located, including the Magical Yarn Closet--- and even down to the oven for which to bake the clay I make pendants and beads from. Everything is neatly placed, including all the beading/polymer clay supplies, my sewing machine, and the much-loved large flat-screen TV. I hide up there and create jewelry. (My kind of crazy jewelry.)
There is a quirky boutique and another shop which have expressed willingness to market my jewelry for a cut of the profits. So my task right now is to keep on making jewelry in order to build up an amount of stock to begin selling with.
Also, my shrink said yesterday she would like me to make some of that jewelry for other mentally-impaired people, in order to give them a boost or cheer them up, to give me some degree of "fulfillment". (NO JOKES ABOUT MY CRAZY-LOOKING JEWELRY, PLEASE!!)
And also, we now have a houseguest, Jon, who is staying with us while he tries to get construction work, since the construction jobs have dried up in Texas. He is antsy and anxious, as the job situation here has been hampered by design problems and rain---thus he is still not working, although he would do ANYTHING the job sites would ask of him. He still needs your prayers, desperately, so that he does not lose his house back in Texas, the house where Blaine and I lived for a short time after we were married, until we moved here to Kansas.
I do not mind Jon staying here---in fact, I'm glad he's here. I like the company even though we don't hang out. He stays downstairs with his computer and I stay upstairs in the studio. But his staying here does create a little more work for me, in the way of dishes and clutter. I truly don't mind. But it does take up more time in my schedule.
All of this leaves little time for blogging.
Normally, I'd assimilate everything together and keep on doing what I'm doing. I would keep on blogging. But I'm getting less and less inspired to tell my daily stories in my blog. And so I've let it go of late. I'm only half-heartedly and half-assedly writing it---definitely not my usual earnest conversations with you guys.
(Is "half-assedly" a word?)
And herein lies the crux of the matter..... Many of my blog's readers are more inclined to concentrate on my negative qualities than my positive. This mystifies me. Why would anybody care? I mean, SO WHAT if I am not a perfect person? And SO WHAT if I'm opinionated and those opinions don't always jibe with certain others' opinions? And SO WHAT if I'm a no-holds-barred argumentative person who stands up to those negative-focusing people?
And what ended up happening is that almost all of my blog's readers have gone to lurkdom.
So therefore, why write the damn blog? I will NEVER be able to accomodate those idiots who call me names and gossip about me---or those people so filled with hatred that they feel compelled to write the cruelest of comments to me. Because I will always refuse to be anything other than myself. And I always thought that living in America meant I had free speech, even on my blog, and that people unhappy with my blog would feel free not to read it if it offends them so much.
I mean, I don't understand it. I am a person who likes reading what other people write about themselves on their blogs. I very much like for them to be honest, even if I don't care for their opinions. That is what makes the world interesting to me---that we are an imperfect species and the differences are what makes the world go round.
Just as our leaders are imperfect at times, so are those of us who are just common citizens.
And thus, I haven't felt like blogging because I figure all the people who sit in judgment of me are sitting like vicious cats, waiting to pounce on my next move. And my loyal readers have been trounced upon---placed in a position where they are not eager to be identified as a reader of my blog. And really, I understand. I really do. Because honestly, in this negative environment, who would want to admit they read my blog? So, I know that many of my friends and lurkers would never want to admit they read my blog because of the reputation it carries, and so I'm saying it for them. I am unpopular and despised by a number of bullies and sanctimonious asses and, thus, it has become a bad thing to admit to being a reader/commenter on my blog.
But that saddens me that many of my loyal readers, who are my friends, don't want to admit to the knit-blogging world that they are readers of my blog. It's like a dirty secret for one to be a reader of my blog. So what I get every day is a very high blog-hit count from hundreds of readers----but also.....hundreds of lurkers.
And so there goes my open dialogue with those who are interested readers. I have no idea what my friends are feeling. Or the lurkers. And thus, gone is the fun of blogging. I could better spend my time doing all the other things that are now crowding my schedule. Because I no longer care to be spotlighted as some sort of evil entity. Which isn't me. I am honest.....not evil!!
And before any of you say "it's my own fault", I don't believe that for a minute. Believe me, hundreds of people STILL DO read my blog--- so my honesty, openness, and unpopular opinions hasn't cost me readers.....it's just that, for many, reading my blog has become, like I said before, a dirty little secret.
And I don't mind that people won't admit that they read my blog. Because I am told that if they admit they read me, they suffer the same negative fallout that I've been dealt ---from the same negative people who hate me. So I understand, I really do. And I don't think less of them for it. Who wants all that negativity? Not everybody has the argumentative nature I do---and not everybody wants that kind of discord in their blogging lives. So believe me, I do understand.
I even consulted my therapist about the matter. He says that if it no longer brings satisfaction to me, to leave it and concentrate on those things that bring me happiness. And currently, what brings me a tiny degree of happiness in my mentally-impaired world is my studio and my new hobby of jewlry making.
As a matter of fact, I'm expecting another box of supplies today from my Mumsy.
And by the way, those of you who have criticized and blasphemed about my mother are true blue fucking criminals. If you knew my beautiful mother you would know her innocence and sincere charm and artistry. I am so very lucky to have her. In fact, I think the Lord gave me to her because He knew she'd always care for me, even in my imperfect state. I have always been a broken person who my mother has tried to help. I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for her.
My father said it all. Years ago, when he lay on his death bed, dying from the last gasps of alcoholic ravages, he struggled to say to me: "Blaine is the only man you've ever been with that I approve of. And that is because I know he will always take care of you."
And he was right. Blaine has sworn to always take care of me.
So anyhoo, that's my daily dose of honesty for you. And don't worry--I don't expect anybody to comment on this post either. It's a problem that I have to decide for myself---I'm not trying to manipulate anybody with what I've declared. I have to decide myself whether to keep on blogging or not--a very difficult decision. But I have to admit that the thought of not having to read those negative comments is inviting...
(And I bet my depression will just THRILL the people who hate me. Well, all I have to say to them is HAVE A FUCKING BALL.)