I feel the need to censor because of some comments I have received, but I don't want to feel the need to censor what I write here. This is my own space to be expressive and hyperbolic and hilarious and rough and eloquent and raw. This is not the kind of writing I need correction on. This is not the place to give me lectures or encouragement. This is not the place to point out inconsistencies. This is self-expression, self-discovery, and dysfunction "incarnate". It is what is it, existing to its own self and wants to rest undisturbed, like a bear in its cave. This is not a plea for help, not a call for attention. The very act of putting the words down, putting the bear in the cave so to speak, is helpful and therapeutic to me. That's why I've disabled commenting as "anonymous". This is a personal blog only shared with a select few. You must have the face to put your name by your comments, but I will decide which ones get published. This is me. Uncensored. This place is mine.
Over here is where I appreciate positive comments -> sarahbawden.wordpress.com
Rant over. Apology for hurt feelings.
Moving on...
We woke up to the fire alarm this morning. And then it went back to sleep, but we couldn't. Rude.
Yesterday was a tired day. Today is a more tired day because of the snow.
I'm breaking through walls with my elbows and chin jutted straight out. Move. Crumble.
Too tired for any more long-strung thoughts. It's fine.
When you are married, the only thing you personally own is responsibility for your actions.
Why Thunder is better than Chocolate:
- it doesn't cause me distressing emotional crash
- I don't have to move from the couch to enjoy it
- I don't have to pay for it
- I'm not allergic to it
- it's not addicting
- it thrills me to the core and that feeling lasts
- it is fleeting and therefore more of a special treat
- lightning looks beautiful and thunder feels beautiful
I daydream about fighting bad guys and/or defending myself and others. I think this is why I like writing fight scenes so much. It gets my adrenaline running.
I'm mobile. I can walk. It is a miracle, but still to what end? What purpose? God is preparing me, so I'm doing my best and once He thinks I'm ready, He will reveal to me the next season of my life.
23 March 2017
09 March 2017
we are equal
I went to the ER last Thursday, back pain radiating down my right leg
rendering me incapable of walking.
Two days prior to
this, I had turned in my work release form that would allow me to go back to
work on Monday.
Needless to say, I
didn't go back to work. So here I am again, hurrying up with the paperwork so I
can wait on someone else to do their job while they decide whether or not or
how soon I’ll be able to go back to mine.
These are some
things I have done since the ER visit: knit, make wall tapestries, wash three loads of laundry by myself, and walk
every day. Yesterday I stopped taking the lor-tab they prescribed me to see if
I'd be able to sleep comfortably yet. Today, not only is my back aching again,
but my body is reminding me of all the other aches and pains it usually suffers
with silently on a daily basis. Now, that is some powerful pain medication.
Also, the main difference I notice between being functional and being depressed is my ability to bully or trick myself into doing things I know I need to do. And that's okay. When I'm really doing well, I don't even feel bullied!
Medical history
aside, here are my blog thoughts:
International
Women's Day. Opinion: neutral leaning toward negative. Here's why:
Despite the fact
that there supposedly is a legitimate International Men's Day (November 19th) I
literally just googled it and that is the first time I have ever heard of it,
ever. I couldn’t miss the hype surrounding International Women’s Day if I
tried. That’s just the problem: I know that there is hype; I do not know
anything else about it except what the name of the “holiday” seems to imply: GO
WOMEN! YEAH! WOOHOO!
So, in our politically correct, gender-ambiguous, sorely divided,
kale-eating, gossipy, judgemental of the judgemental, surgery changes gender
country we have two different days to celebrate two DIFFERENT genders. Wait,
what? Oh, yeah, and one day for all the “other” genders. Also, an extra day in
August for Women’s Equality. Oh, yeah, and a Mother’s day and Father’s day. So
I guess we are trying to celebrate everybody at least a couple times each year.
How about scrap all of that and have every day be happy Human Day
and let’s start to acknowledge and serve those around us on a one-on-one basis.
Let’s have every day be a Fair Boss Day where we treat our employees with
respect because they are humans. Capiche?
Now, for my other opinion: there are only two genders. Male and
Female. I’m sorry, but you can’t argue chromosomes out of that one. That’s just
fact. We also have gender-stereotypes that are so deeply ingrained that you
couldn’t give a baby girl a blue blanket without risking offending the mom. My
favorite color right now is light blue. No point proven, just... there.
I have a whole bunch of arguments that tear down
idiotic societal norms. But I’m a little too tired to try and put them all out
there right now. Or even some of them. Just know that we live in a place that celebrates differences
and then denies differences because they are incompatible with equality
somehow.
“Different yet equal” took on some very negative connotations at
one point in our history because “equal” was NOT equal. But:
Different yet equal is a perfect way to describe males versus
females. My husband has incredible strengths and different ways of seeing things
than I do. Which translates to some very wonderful insights for the both of us
and new ideas! We take care of each other. We do things for each other and it
works out.
Different yet equal is a perfect way to describe race versus race.
Me versus the Indian people who live in the next building over. They have
feelings, opinions, lives, goals and heartbreaks. Just like me. We nod and
smile when we pass on the sidewalk. I may never know anything about them except
that one time that lady gave my friend so much delicious Indian curry that my
friend had to give some to me and it was literally the day after I prayed that
someone please, please bring me dinner because I’m in so much pain but don’t
want to ask. It worked out.
Different yet equal is a perfect way to describe friends. Me, who
loves soft yarn to be sure, versus my dear friend who loves this nasty, fat,
fluffy yarn that is a nightmare to work with. She loves it! I hate it! Yet we
both care for one another, we both get together to do the fiber arts and write
and talk and walk. And I give her all my nasty, fat, fluffy yarn! It works out.
“Equality” starts on a
one-on-one level. Do you treat your neighbor as equally kind as you do
yourself? Do you treat your friends even better than yourself? Do you treat
your spouse – your soul mate – even better than that? No? Then stop worrying
about how society is treating… society, and go out there and be kind. We are
different. Do you think God might know how hard it is for someone as corrupt as
a human being to love someone different? Do you think maybe He let us be
different on purpose? The more you have to open your heart to love people who
are different, the more enriching and joyful this life is going to be and that’s
just fact.
28 February 2017
spaghetti sauce
This one time, I made this sauce. And then I liked it. So I wrote it down.
Ingredients: 1 lb burger (grass fed actually tastes better, believe it or not)
1/2 sweet onion, diced
1 tsp (2 cloves) minced garlic
28 oz can diced tomatoes
12 oz can tomato sauce
2 Tbs apple cider vinegar
2 Tbs brown sugar
1 tsp salt
2 tsp Italian seasoning
2 Tbs olive oil, separated
salt
garlic salt
Italian seasoning
Instructions:
1. Sprinkle burger liberally with salt, garlic salt, and Italian seasoning
2. Add 1 Tbs oil to pan over medium heat burger until cooked through. Set aside.
3. Add 1 Tbs oil to pan over medium heat and add onion and garlic. Cook until onion is clear and garlic toasted.
4. Stir in tomato sauce and tomatoes, measured spices (salt and Italian seasoning) brown sugar, and vinegar.
5. Stir in burger and simmer until heated.
6. Enjoy!
Ingredients: 1 lb burger (grass fed actually tastes better, believe it or not)
1/2 sweet onion, diced
1 tsp (2 cloves) minced garlic
28 oz can diced tomatoes
12 oz can tomato sauce
2 Tbs apple cider vinegar
2 Tbs brown sugar
1 tsp salt
2 tsp Italian seasoning
2 Tbs olive oil, separated
salt
garlic salt
Italian seasoning
Instructions:
1. Sprinkle burger liberally with salt, garlic salt, and Italian seasoning
2. Add 1 Tbs oil to pan over medium heat burger until cooked through. Set aside.
3. Add 1 Tbs oil to pan over medium heat and add onion and garlic. Cook until onion is clear and garlic toasted.
4. Stir in tomato sauce and tomatoes, measured spices (salt and Italian seasoning) brown sugar, and vinegar.
5. Stir in burger and simmer until heated.
6. Enjoy!
23 February 2017
tmi
"I think exercise is my brass serpent on the pole."
Excuse me while I rinse my mouth out.
I'm trying to love it, though. Really, I am. I posted a sticky-note on my bathroom mirror that says "I love to exercise" and I read it to myself... when I remember to. This morning I went to my first water Zumba class and actually liked it a lot. Some of the moves stretched my back out and I felt more mobile all morning and well into the afternoon.
For real, though, if exercise is the only thing I've needed to do this whole time just to keep my back happy I'm going to kick myself so hard.
Moving on:
I haven't shaved my legs in weeks, probably months. I haven't shaved my armpits in quite a few days, either. And I went swimming like this. In public. When it is painful to bend over and one's husband is doing all he can to keep up with school and work, one would feel rude asking him to help shave one's legs. So I look like Sasquatch. So what? Here is my list of very legitimate reasons not to shave:
1. it breaks stereotypes and social expectations
2. I'm trying to be more like Katniss
3. it's convenient
4. it's a subtle push back against pornography "ideals"
5. I can't, anyway
6. no more razor burn and waking up with bloody fingernails from scratching in my sleep
7. my husband doesn't really care
8. other people don't really care
9. I don't really care if other ladies don't shave
10. hairy legs don't change my feminine soul
Next topic:
Let's get more serious for a bit. I want to share a mantra that without a doubt was the most helpful realization I had when I was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder and trying to come to terms with the wacko things demon-Sarah was doing behind my back before I was on proper medication.
"You're not in trouble for being broken."
The Atonement of Christ covers oopsies and uh-ohs and things I regret doing. It can wipe clean the slate as long as I keep fighting to stay on His side.
And, finally:
The "All or Nothing Mentality" that is so destructive. Here are a couple phrases that have become commonplace that reflect this mentality. Warning: believing these may cause severe progression paralysis.
1. "Go big or go home"
2. "If something is worth doing, it is worth doing well"
Props if you are the type of personality that thrives on shooting for that high bar. For the rest of us, let's adopt something more like this:
1. "Go at your best pace and don't give up"
2. "If something is worth doing, it is worth learning all you can about it and practicing every day until you are a pro"
Excuse me while I rinse my mouth out.
I'm trying to love it, though. Really, I am. I posted a sticky-note on my bathroom mirror that says "I love to exercise" and I read it to myself... when I remember to. This morning I went to my first water Zumba class and actually liked it a lot. Some of the moves stretched my back out and I felt more mobile all morning and well into the afternoon.
For real, though, if exercise is the only thing I've needed to do this whole time just to keep my back happy I'm going to kick myself so hard.
Moving on:
I haven't shaved my legs in weeks, probably months. I haven't shaved my armpits in quite a few days, either. And I went swimming like this. In public. When it is painful to bend over and one's husband is doing all he can to keep up with school and work, one would feel rude asking him to help shave one's legs. So I look like Sasquatch. So what? Here is my list of very legitimate reasons not to shave:
1. it breaks stereotypes and social expectations
2. I'm trying to be more like Katniss
3. it's convenient
4. it's a subtle push back against pornography "ideals"
5. I can't, anyway
6. no more razor burn and waking up with bloody fingernails from scratching in my sleep
7. my husband doesn't really care
8. other people don't really care
9. I don't really care if other ladies don't shave
10. hairy legs don't change my feminine soul
Next topic:
Let's get more serious for a bit. I want to share a mantra that without a doubt was the most helpful realization I had when I was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder and trying to come to terms with the wacko things demon-Sarah was doing behind my back before I was on proper medication.
"You're not in trouble for being broken."
The Atonement of Christ covers oopsies and uh-ohs and things I regret doing. It can wipe clean the slate as long as I keep fighting to stay on His side.
And, finally:
The "All or Nothing Mentality" that is so destructive. Here are a couple phrases that have become commonplace that reflect this mentality. Warning: believing these may cause severe progression paralysis.
1. "Go big or go home"
2. "If something is worth doing, it is worth doing well"
Props if you are the type of personality that thrives on shooting for that high bar. For the rest of us, let's adopt something more like this:
1. "Go at your best pace and don't give up"
2. "If something is worth doing, it is worth learning all you can about it and practicing every day until you are a pro"
20 February 2017
toast
My favorite toppings:
apricot jam and chopped pecans
peanut butter and cinnamon sugar
sliced avocado and salt
apricot jam and chopped pecans
peanut butter and cinnamon sugar
sliced avocado and salt
16 February 2017
snippets of thought
The wolf doesn't even need to come in a sheepskin anymore. People welcome him in decked in his bow tie and coat tails.
If someone is uncomfortable with a topic and trying to lighten the mood, listen carefully to what they say right before they say, "just kidding," because that may be as close to the truth as they will dare to come.
I have conversations in my head with famous people. I want to practice in case I ever meet them so that I don't come across as a wilty fan girl. Famous people always die before you get a chance to meet them, though.
Everyone else is faking it, too.
Talent is spelled T-A-L-E-N-T, but it grows from the fertile soil of hard work.
Desserts spelled backwards is S-T-R-E-S-S-E-D, which is why it is important to eat healthy.
If someone is uncomfortable with a topic and trying to lighten the mood, listen carefully to what they say right before they say, "just kidding," because that may be as close to the truth as they will dare to come.
I have conversations in my head with famous people. I want to practice in case I ever meet them so that I don't come across as a wilty fan girl. Famous people always die before you get a chance to meet them, though.
Everyone else is faking it, too.
Talent is spelled T-A-L-E-N-T, but it grows from the fertile soil of hard work.
Desserts spelled backwards is S-T-R-E-S-S-E-D, which is why it is important to eat healthy.
13 February 2017
sauerkraut recipe
[insert giant life story and lots of pictures here]
... and now for... The Recipe!
Sarah's Colorful Kraut
Ingredients:
1 head purple cabbage, small
10-11 carrots, med to lg
1 sweet onion
1 head garlic
3 Tbs Himalayan sea salt
Also needed:
2 1-qt jars
2 plastic quart jar lids
cheese grater and knife or food processor
kitchen gloves (optional)
jar funnel (optional)
Instructions:
1. Set aside two large cabbage leaves. Finely chop the rest of the cabbage and onion, grate carrots, and mince garlic.
2. In a large bowl, alternate layers of veggies and salt. Knead salt into veggies with hands until there is enough brine to cover veggies in jars.
3. Fill both quart jars with veggie mixture and pour brine over top. (May use funnel, it makes it a little easier)
4. Using cabbage leaves set aside earlier, use one per jar to cover and push down veggies below the brine. Tightly screw lids on.
5. Leave jars on counter for 6-8 days or until sauerkraut has a tangy "pickle-like" taste and crunch. Can leave out longer to develop flavor. Be sure to loosen lids to 'burp' the jars every couple of days. Once the flavor is where you want it, store in the fridge. It keeps for a long time. (I'm using some now that I made 5 1/2 months ago and it's great.)
6. Enjoy!
When I first made sauerkraut, I was kind of like "what the heck do I eat this with?" Here are some ideas my friends and I have done:
Add it to grilled ham and cheese sandwiches.
Mix with tuna salad. It makes it pink! (from Katie R.)
Drop a couple forkfuls in soup.
Eat right out of the jar!
Finely slice bell peppers or other veggies and mix sauerkraut in as a salad.
Use anywhere you'd normally use pickles.
I feel obligated to add a picture.
I'm not going to.
... and now for... The Recipe!
Sarah's Colorful Kraut
Ingredients:
1 head purple cabbage, small
10-11 carrots, med to lg
1 sweet onion
1 head garlic
3 Tbs Himalayan sea salt
Also needed:
2 1-qt jars
2 plastic quart jar lids
cheese grater and knife or food processor
kitchen gloves (optional)
jar funnel (optional)
Instructions:
1. Set aside two large cabbage leaves. Finely chop the rest of the cabbage and onion, grate carrots, and mince garlic.
2. In a large bowl, alternate layers of veggies and salt. Knead salt into veggies with hands until there is enough brine to cover veggies in jars.
3. Fill both quart jars with veggie mixture and pour brine over top. (May use funnel, it makes it a little easier)
4. Using cabbage leaves set aside earlier, use one per jar to cover and push down veggies below the brine. Tightly screw lids on.
5. Leave jars on counter for 6-8 days or until sauerkraut has a tangy "pickle-like" taste and crunch. Can leave out longer to develop flavor. Be sure to loosen lids to 'burp' the jars every couple of days. Once the flavor is where you want it, store in the fridge. It keeps for a long time. (I'm using some now that I made 5 1/2 months ago and it's great.)
6. Enjoy!
When I first made sauerkraut, I was kind of like "what the heck do I eat this with?" Here are some ideas my friends and I have done:
Add it to grilled ham and cheese sandwiches.
Mix with tuna salad. It makes it pink! (from Katie R.)
Drop a couple forkfuls in soup.
Eat right out of the jar!
Finely slice bell peppers or other veggies and mix sauerkraut in as a salad.
Use anywhere you'd normally use pickles.
I feel obligated to add a picture.
I'm not going to.
09 February 2017
art style
YouTube will be the death of me. Either because I starve from watching too much or because I literally die of failure-at-life syndrome.
There are many YouTube videos out there from artists who talk about "finding your style" as an artist. None of them have been helpful to me so far because they tell me to just keep on creating and my style will come. That's not helpful when I don't know where to start with the actual creating. Being creative means feeling an urge or desire to create. I wanted to know what "style" was because from there I could go on to define my own and have a starting point for my creativity.
Here is what I've come up with: Artistic style is the sum total of all the rules you make up for your own creative process. The rules you make up are a combination of things you like, and things you can do, which is why style is still a very organic thing that changes and morphs over time. Things you like change. Ways you create change depending on things you learn or new things that inspire you.
Examples:
Thick lines versus thin versus variable.
Black on white.
Perfect repeating symmetry versus balanced asymmetry versus complete randomness.
Curvy women versus wisps.
Always drawing feet with no toes.
Hyper-realism versus abstract versus a combination of each.
White on black.
People versus animals versus plants.
Cartoons with big ears or big feet.
Realistic animals in unrealistic situations.
Choice of medium: endless variations and combinations.
Super size versus notepad versus miniature and everything in between.
3D versus flat
Photo reference versus making it up.
Monochromatic.
Bring in the metallic colors.
Stick figures with hilarious speech bubbles.
Slam poetry versus orchestra music.
Get messy during the process versus cleanliness.
Wear cozy clothes versus wear no clothes.
Storm clouds versus sunshine on dew drops.
Peppermint versus cherry.
Bold colors versus soft
Convenient versus time consuming.
I love lists. I could probably go on all day. Have fun discovering your own style.
There are many YouTube videos out there from artists who talk about "finding your style" as an artist. None of them have been helpful to me so far because they tell me to just keep on creating and my style will come. That's not helpful when I don't know where to start with the actual creating. Being creative means feeling an urge or desire to create. I wanted to know what "style" was because from there I could go on to define my own and have a starting point for my creativity.
Here is what I've come up with: Artistic style is the sum total of all the rules you make up for your own creative process. The rules you make up are a combination of things you like, and things you can do, which is why style is still a very organic thing that changes and morphs over time. Things you like change. Ways you create change depending on things you learn or new things that inspire you.
Examples:
Thick lines versus thin versus variable.
Black on white.
Perfect repeating symmetry versus balanced asymmetry versus complete randomness.
Curvy women versus wisps.
Always drawing feet with no toes.
Hyper-realism versus abstract versus a combination of each.
White on black.
People versus animals versus plants.
Cartoons with big ears or big feet.
Realistic animals in unrealistic situations.
Choice of medium: endless variations and combinations.
Super size versus notepad versus miniature and everything in between.
3D versus flat
Photo reference versus making it up.
Monochromatic.
Bring in the metallic colors.
Stick figures with hilarious speech bubbles.
Slam poetry versus orchestra music.
Get messy during the process versus cleanliness.
Wear cozy clothes versus wear no clothes.
Storm clouds versus sunshine on dew drops.
Peppermint versus cherry.
Bold colors versus soft
Convenient versus time consuming.
I love lists. I could probably go on all day. Have fun discovering your own style.
02 February 2017
late bloomers
Can't think of a catchy first line.
This is a post about how lame my husband and I are together.
Also a reason why I shouldn't watch people's success stories on YouTube until after I, myself have had success. As per my post last week, there is far too long a list of things I enjoy doing accompanied by an increasing feeling of being left behind by my generation because I'm not actually doing anything about the things I like to do.
Confession: I never liked horses as much as I pretended to when I was a child.
The sister just younger than I was big into horses. She was also the preferred child because I was crazy and we didn't know why yet, so I felt strong compulsion to be first and be better than her. The day she announced she loved horses, I loved them more. (It didn't end until after I left for college, either. The day she decided to play flute, I picked it up and was playing at an intermediate level within two days. She decided to play bassoon instead. I never tried to keep up with her athletics, though. I got fat while she got soccer-chick thighs. I was a passive-aggressive sort of competitive, she was a knock-you-down sort.)
I watched YouTube videos about why Lena Danya and Happy D Artist chose to make art their career. Both of them said it was something they had been doing and loved since they were a child. I've been thinking about how I was as a child. I can remember some things. I spent my time riding stick horses, playing with stuffed animals, swimming in a ditch, crying so hard I passed out, keeping my little sister away from my own friends, drawing horses (well, more unicorns and pegasi than horses) and dragons, throwing fits where I would tear my hair out, playing in our sand box, riding horses, playing horses on my fists and knees until I got rug burnt knees, being so mad I bit my hands, tucking my shirt in and wearing a belt, being secretive about which boy I liked (it was only one, all through elementary and middle school.. one boy crush for 7 years), playing lion king off the top bunk where Scar would throw Simba's dad off the cliff, but you don't want to read a laundry list of my childhood activities. Just note that they are sporadic and random and centered a lot around something I didn't actually love all that much.
One day I realized I was lying to myself. I loved the clarinet. On that day, I gave all of my horse toys to my younger sister and never really played with them again. (I still doodled on all of my school papers, though.) My dream of going anywhere with the clarinet died with my college grades, tendonitis, and bank account balance. It's hard to go to college and get good grades when bipolar disorder has one by the throat. Pre-diagnosis problems.
All of which is leading to my point: I have no idea what I loved doing as a child. So I am an automatic failure as an adult because I'm starting from scratch 20 years late. I'm not good enough at anything to make a real career out of it and I'm not going to be a self-employed knitter. My husband is kind of in the same boat with me. He just switched majors two semesters ago.... to something he loved doing as a kid: writing. So he isn't as lame.
This has made me reconsider what I think of as "success". Am I successful because I actually spent the time to draw, paint, sew or write in a day? Or if I have my own fashion line of knitted sweaters (with cat motifs of course)? Or am I only successful if I have an enormous online following and collectors wanting to pay loads of money for my art? The latter is very appealing to me. In the scriptures, when the people are starting to become wicked again, one of the first things they do is "seek to get gain". Well, yes I am. There's extra pressure because I am the primary income and I'm not making any money right now. My back is still out of commission. I have a bad case of the "I can'ts". To be fair, my early life was not exactly a joy ride.
This is a post about how lame my husband and I are together.
Also a reason why I shouldn't watch people's success stories on YouTube until after I, myself have had success. As per my post last week, there is far too long a list of things I enjoy doing accompanied by an increasing feeling of being left behind by my generation because I'm not actually doing anything about the things I like to do.
Confession: I never liked horses as much as I pretended to when I was a child.
The sister just younger than I was big into horses. She was also the preferred child because I was crazy and we didn't know why yet, so I felt strong compulsion to be first and be better than her. The day she announced she loved horses, I loved them more. (It didn't end until after I left for college, either. The day she decided to play flute, I picked it up and was playing at an intermediate level within two days. She decided to play bassoon instead. I never tried to keep up with her athletics, though. I got fat while she got soccer-chick thighs. I was a passive-aggressive sort of competitive, she was a knock-you-down sort.)
I watched YouTube videos about why Lena Danya and Happy D Artist chose to make art their career. Both of them said it was something they had been doing and loved since they were a child. I've been thinking about how I was as a child. I can remember some things. I spent my time riding stick horses, playing with stuffed animals, swimming in a ditch, crying so hard I passed out, keeping my little sister away from my own friends, drawing horses (well, more unicorns and pegasi than horses) and dragons, throwing fits where I would tear my hair out, playing in our sand box, riding horses, playing horses on my fists and knees until I got rug burnt knees, being so mad I bit my hands, tucking my shirt in and wearing a belt, being secretive about which boy I liked (it was only one, all through elementary and middle school.. one boy crush for 7 years), playing lion king off the top bunk where Scar would throw Simba's dad off the cliff, but you don't want to read a laundry list of my childhood activities. Just note that they are sporadic and random and centered a lot around something I didn't actually love all that much.
One day I realized I was lying to myself. I loved the clarinet. On that day, I gave all of my horse toys to my younger sister and never really played with them again. (I still doodled on all of my school papers, though.) My dream of going anywhere with the clarinet died with my college grades, tendonitis, and bank account balance. It's hard to go to college and get good grades when bipolar disorder has one by the throat. Pre-diagnosis problems.
All of which is leading to my point: I have no idea what I loved doing as a child. So I am an automatic failure as an adult because I'm starting from scratch 20 years late. I'm not good enough at anything to make a real career out of it and I'm not going to be a self-employed knitter. My husband is kind of in the same boat with me. He just switched majors two semesters ago.... to something he loved doing as a kid: writing. So he isn't as lame.
This has made me reconsider what I think of as "success". Am I successful because I actually spent the time to draw, paint, sew or write in a day? Or if I have my own fashion line of knitted sweaters (with cat motifs of course)? Or am I only successful if I have an enormous online following and collectors wanting to pay loads of money for my art? The latter is very appealing to me. In the scriptures, when the people are starting to become wicked again, one of the first things they do is "seek to get gain". Well, yes I am. There's extra pressure because I am the primary income and I'm not making any money right now. My back is still out of commission. I have a bad case of the "I can'ts". To be fair, my early life was not exactly a joy ride.
26 January 2017
searching for my life
I'm probably manic. That is usually the only time I think it is a good idea to start up a blog again. Besides, I think my "internet voice" is unbearably annoying. Not a lot of motivation to keep going after I've reread old posts. I think this is the... 4th or 5th blog I've ever tried to start. I lack consistency. I'm kind of a flake about things, but in my defense I have not been really functional (mentally) until about 2 or 3 years ago and there is still another dead blog in the internet graveyard from that time period. How many of these thoughts sounds familiar:
"Well, this time will be different because..."
"I'll just pace myself..."
"Take smaller bites so..."
"I can be more consistent..."
"Because it's the new year and that magically means I have at least one or two solid months of goal-meeting before I peter out again. That's enough time to develop a solid habit. ...isn't it?"
I'm 25 years old. To me, that is too old to start new things if I want to be successful in life. These thoughts are strongest when I think of my friends (who are younger than I) who all have been married longer, have degrees or children or both and still manage a Pinterest-perfect life. These thoughts are coming to a head right now because two days ago, after knitting, crocheting, reading, studying scriptures, sewing and writing all day - on the couch because my back bummed out and I've missed work for 3 weeks - I realized, to my horror, that my day still felt empty. I still felt like I was missing something. My husband came home to me moping around and was just as surprised as I was to hear about my realization. The trickiest part is: I'm probably manic, but I have mixed symptoms so it could also be the depression talking, sucking the color and joy out of things I've loved doing my whole life.
The scriptures say "Study it out, humble yourself, then ask and ye shall receive." Paraphrased, forgive me, so I made a list of the things I love to do and rated them 1-10 according to how good I think I am at each activity. Top 5 were: sewing; crocheting; knitting; pencil drawing; and watercolor. And I felt disappointed! Why? I'm still working on answering that, but I have some theories. I haven't spent as much time writing as I have on other activities. Hubby says I should try that out exclusively over the next few days and see what happens.
I think I have to be ready to give up everything I love before I'll get more answers from God. That's what it feels like to me to humble myself. After my first list I started a second, very different-sounding one of things I am good at like "teaching" and "helping people feel better" and I felt like that might be going the right direction. But, you see the problem: if I have "seasons of flakiness" (aka bipolar disorder, I don't care if I'm medicated, there is still flux and flow) I probably shouldn't go into a profession where people have to depend on me all the time. Oh, darn, that's, like, life.
Hey, I wrote a thing.
"Well, this time will be different because..."
"I'll just pace myself..."
"Take smaller bites so..."
"I can be more consistent..."
"Because it's the new year and that magically means I have at least one or two solid months of goal-meeting before I peter out again. That's enough time to develop a solid habit. ...isn't it?"
I'm 25 years old. To me, that is too old to start new things if I want to be successful in life. These thoughts are strongest when I think of my friends (who are younger than I) who all have been married longer, have degrees or children or both and still manage a Pinterest-perfect life. These thoughts are coming to a head right now because two days ago, after knitting, crocheting, reading, studying scriptures, sewing and writing all day - on the couch because my back bummed out and I've missed work for 3 weeks - I realized, to my horror, that my day still felt empty. I still felt like I was missing something. My husband came home to me moping around and was just as surprised as I was to hear about my realization. The trickiest part is: I'm probably manic, but I have mixed symptoms so it could also be the depression talking, sucking the color and joy out of things I've loved doing my whole life.
The scriptures say "Study it out, humble yourself, then ask and ye shall receive." Paraphrased, forgive me, so I made a list of the things I love to do and rated them 1-10 according to how good I think I am at each activity. Top 5 were: sewing; crocheting; knitting; pencil drawing; and watercolor. And I felt disappointed! Why? I'm still working on answering that, but I have some theories. I haven't spent as much time writing as I have on other activities. Hubby says I should try that out exclusively over the next few days and see what happens.
I think I have to be ready to give up everything I love before I'll get more answers from God. That's what it feels like to me to humble myself. After my first list I started a second, very different-sounding one of things I am good at like "teaching" and "helping people feel better" and I felt like that might be going the right direction. But, you see the problem: if I have "seasons of flakiness" (aka bipolar disorder, I don't care if I'm medicated, there is still flux and flow) I probably shouldn't go into a profession where people have to depend on me all the time. Oh, darn, that's, like, life.
Hey, I wrote a thing.
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