The last couple weeks have been a little crazy. After I posted about my SIL’s wedding I was sure I would finally be back blogging regularly and even had my list of posts I wanted to write ready to go with notes.

Between my health, the cat, heading back to work and trying to write for ThinkHero nothing has been going as planned. I don’t mind doing bullet point posts but only when the points are small and not all worthy of their own post.

I think one of the worst things we are dealing with is that Adam’s UI runs out next month. He’s in a union or he’d likely have found work by now. It has hit the point where we have no choice, he will have to leave the union or things will become dire. We’ve lived for almost seven years with no extended medical, I had it when I was still in corporate jobs but Adam wasn’t on it. Both of us having it for the period we did, with the medical problems we have or that have come up, it hasn’t even helped. For example, the most expensive of any of my medications is my allergy spray and it isn’t covered. Sure I need new lenses in my glasses but I’ll just keep having our medical stuff written off on our taxes like I always do.

I have returned to work as a PA on season 3 of Fringe. I’m feeling pretty good about myself having been called back for another season. Given this show films downtown as much as it does and because I’m back on my bike, getting to and from locations has just become about 80% easier. I’m still working on call / part time, but this works best for me. The longer I do this work the more I enjoy it, the work itself isn’t hard, it’s the hours that make the work hard, get used to those and you are good to go. And that is basically all I can say about that.

I’m feeling a tad overwhelmed because a lot of positive things seem to be coming in my direction, yet I’m terrified of my health, my depression, or my ‘I don’t deserve good things’ side of my brain taking over and fucking it all up. I invented self sabotage.

As mentioned I started writing for ThinkHero, I have gotten a few really good pieces up but my intent was to post more and now I’m paranoid I won’t be offering up enough to keep me on, to which my friends say “are you kidding me you are writing for free” to which I say – yes, but I said I was going to do such and such and now I’ve been sick and going for test after test after flippin’ test and go see this specialist and OH lets have a barium enema while we’re at it. That now means another four plus doctors have had their finger up my ass in the last month. I intentionally don’t even shave my INNER ass cheeks anymore. Fuck it, and I sport a 70’s bush too while I’m talking about pubes. Deal with it.

Not to mention:

My blood work has come back showing I have VERY low blood sugar and that I am hypoglycemic. This means I have to see another specialist because I do not as of yet have diabetes and part of the goal here is keeping it that way. Eating every three hours is a real new one for me. I’ve never had an eating disorder but I do not like food and I eat because I have to, not because I want to, making myself eat every three hours makes me feel like I’m going to barf, sucks it is already helping me feel better. No idea if it is affecting my moods because I have too much going on to look that deeply in upon myself yet. This explains A LOT of my complaints over the last few months, dizziness worse than my normal shitty balance falling over, I’m a clumsy pants nonsense, my over the top tiredness, low energy and dropping close to fifteen pounds off my already small frame. This was so odd for me because I’m used to losing weight when I’m depressed but aside from these complaints, mentally I’ve still been doing fairly well. We were chalking everything up to the stress of having no full time work since January but I was pretty sure it was more than that being pretty in-tune with when and why I’m losing or gaining weight.

Speaking of me MENTALLY my meds have been dropped again. I’m on the lowest amount of meds I’ve been in oh, shit maybe four years. There is only 25 mg between me and NO MORE Seroquel the least favourite of the three meds I take, I have MANY an argument or rather *words* with my psychiatrist about him putting me on Seroquel. I’ve stopped waiting for the ball to drop, and I’m really giving this feeling better stuff a go. As I’ve mentioned this doesn’t mean I don’t have BRUTALLY bad days where it is ALL I HAVE not to toss myself out in front of a bus, but I’m hanging onto the rails of the sanity train for dear life and I will keep riding it no matter how many people try and toss me off for as long as I can.

Now for the hardest news to share. Gus isn’t doing so good. When we went to Langley for the wedding we thought not hearing from my girlfriend was a good thing, turned out she didn’t want to ruin our weekend. We came home to find that Gus had attacked someone who had not only known her since 1996 but had sat her on numerous occasions some over two weeks long back when I used to be a travel agent. This has left us with some hard and shitty decisions that had to be made, because we can’t have Gus attacking our friends, we won’t be spending Christmas with our siblings, we won’t be able to see our friends in Tofino and probably the worst for my parents is we can’t go to Bali until…… … and I can’t risk going to Bali myself and missing my last month with her, she is having enough trouble with my having returned to work. She is also dropping weight at a rather drastic rate. So much so that we were going to take her in early for her six month check up. It is hard to believe it has already been a year since we had to put her on pain medication and up until about two months ago she was doing really well. Her blood work has all come back fine both times it has been taken, she doesn’t have any kidney or liver problems. We made the decision to wait until her check up in September. We get her weighed once a month when we pick up her medication and are being pressured to bring her in but here’s the deal; Having picked wee Gus when she was the runt of the litter and she wasn’t the last kitteh but she was the one I fell in love with even thinking she was a boy, I know her and I know that taking her in for blood tests in June instead of September is only going to have to have her pricked an extra time. Forget the cost, it has nothing to do with that, everyone knows we can’t afford this to happen right now but who is ever ready for this financially or mentally or fucking in any way. The fact remains that even though it is beyond heartbreaking when Gus goes to lay on the floor right now and her bones make a horrible sound as they hit the floor, she is happy, she has energy she is still feisty, she still sits with us, sleeps with us, she isn’t hiding. She is eating less, but she is drinking more. Gus has lived a great long life, she was my best little furry buddy and now she is our best furry little buddy and we are going to keep her comfortable as long as possible but not drag the inevitable out. She is dying of old age, plain and simple. It is really, really hard, I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. I don’t like to think that far ahead yet. It sneaks in sometimes, but I’m not ready.

Last weekend Adam and I were in Langley and spent a night way out in Chilliwack, there are some super nice mountains that far out of the city, beautiful British Columbia all over the place. I sent two texts messages to Twitter and I used a computer once because my phone was randomly texting important pertinent information to Safeway, and I needed my response to reach the person it came from but I wasn’t even on it for five minutes. Other than that I was completely unplugged. We were at my youngest Sister (in-laws) wedding. And lucky me I get to post photos!

It was three full days away from my cat though, with family I hadn’t seen or spoken to since we got married in 2006. I was afraid of anxiety attacks, migraines, one of my ass or intestinal ailments acting up, totally freaking out, losing it, ruining everything and having to go home. When I thought about it I realized that I hadn’t even spent that much time with a large(r) amount of my own side of the family since 1994, when I was 17 years old and we went back to Ontario for Christmas. I did make a trip back in 2000 as well, but it was hardly 4 days, also for Christmas but it was to visit a very specific person in the family and whoever else I got to see was great but I didn’t see that many.

I don’t like being away from home period, which upon thinking about recently I realized I’ve been like that since I was a kid, I remember I used to come home from sleep overs in the middle of the night. When my parents where still living in Prince George I would fly home early pretty regularly. I knew I was going to be out there from early Friday until who knew when on Sunday.

Back when Adam and I got married my relationship with the people who were to become my in-laws was strained to say the very least. I didn’t actually talk to my sister in laws or father in law at all at our wedding. I had mentally prepared for months to not let how hard that day was going to be get to me, it was one of the best acts I’ve ever put on knowing I was walking down the aisle in front of some people who had reason not to like me, or who had heard enough negative things about me that in only one day I wasn’t going to change anyones mind. I’m used to being misunderstood, but in the case of my soon to be sisters, fucking up the chance at a relationship I had grown up wanting more than anything sucked, really bad.

Over the years that we’ve been married my SILs and I have worked out our differences and we get along better than I ever could have dreamed. I don’t even remember how it happened, it just did. We started hanging out with Kristy my youngest sister and her boyfriend Greg who is now her husband and my brother. Sara started to make a point to come over and see us whenever she was here from Philly. It happened slowly but I was starting to feel like these two women really had my back, that they didn’t just like me that they were starting to love me like real family. Whoa, what a trip that was.

Most people know I’m an only child but what a lot of people don’t know is that I grew up with just my parents. I had an incredibly hard time making and keeping friends and whatever these problems were they were always my fault, that is all I learned was that it was my fault not how to properly socialize or make friends. I never spent enough time with anyone in my extended family to build an actual relationship with them, I don’t know any of them, I know things about them, and I’ve heard things about them but I don’t KNOW them. The time I spent so alone as a child is no doubt why as an adult I spend, at least by choice now, a shit load of time at home. It was in 1985 that my parents made a choice to leave our entire family in Ontario and go as far West as you can coming to British Columbia.

Not spending a lot of time with Adam’s family never bothered me. Not getting invited out for Thanksgiving, who cares! I didn’t have to pretend I wanted to be there and sneak out to smoke pot at any escapable moment I could find. I have enough trouble holding my shit together when my parents visit me instead of me visiting them, I feel trapped, I feel they don’t listen to me or respect my space. I try and set boundaries when they visit but it always leads to overly dramatic fights and periods of time when we have no contact at all. Again, my fault.

Aside from mending and building a relationship with my sister in laws the only other person on that side of the family who I’d met that I knew liked me for sure was my Grandma. She spoils Adam and I rotten and it’s awesome. She was the one Adam learned how to make sock monkeys from so my starting to make the sock monkeys helped me out there a bit I think.

I started to get excited about this wedding pretty early on, I think it is probably for the best that I kept most of my focus on Kristy and Greg and didn’t spend much time thinking about the big picture, which was three full days with the Carlson clan who I hadn’t seen since we married and I’d be meeting members of an entire new family that I’m now a part of, being an only child this was incredibly overwhelming, it is very hard for me to connect which titles go with who, I have the basics down, but try to figure out what the correct term for the relation of anyone outside a brother or a sister and I really don’t have a clue. We hadn’t even been out to Langley, Daddy Bland had stopped by our place a couple of times over the years, but I would rarely accompany Adam on a coffee or eating excursion if there was one. I didn’t see the point, he was never going to like me and it wasn’t because I started to call him Daddy Bland, that’s his middle name.

Last weekend, up until the hangover on Sunday, was one of the best weekends I have had in ages. We’d met Sara at the airport in the morning to hitch a ride to Langley whilst also to pick up her boyfriend and headed straight for ground zero – my father in law’s fancy garage, already set up all nice, in purple and black for the Sunday gift opening. Family arrived all day, some from Dawson Creek, Edmonton, they came from all over. All recognizing me but me recognizing none of them. ONLY because it is nearly impossible for a bride to remember talking to her own family at her wedding let alone members of her new one, at least it was for me anyway, and I’ve heard that is very common.

We took off with Sara and Chris to set up the ceremony and reception hall and watch the rehearsal which Adam was needed for as he played the guitar and harmonica as Kristy’s wedding party and then Kristy and her dad walked down the aisle the following day. I still felt extremely overwhelmed at times and shed a few tears trying really hard not to let my anxiety get the best of me and allow my head to convince me everyone hated me. The bridesmaids couldn’t believe it when I told them I had social anxiety. I had told Adam I wasn’t taking any crap in Langley, yes I knew it was all about Kristy and Greg but this didn’t mean I was going to feel excluded. Not at one moment did I feel excluded. I even had some bonding moments with my step mother in law, I never saw that day coming and it was awesome. Real conversations.

Getting to spend time with both of my sisters at the same time was something I never thought I’d have in my life. I didn’t know if we would ever get along, but we do, and pretty well too. They are both such fantastic, yet different women. Sara and I both like reading, and looking like dorks in photos, she calls random people creeps, I call them jerks. Kristy likes country music SHIT I LIKE COUNTRY MUSIC. HA TAKE THAT INTERNET. Kristy is sensitive, I know I don’t have to tell any of you this but I’M super sensitive. And we all want to get along and want to have a relationship, that means more to me than I can really put into words, I’ve been trying to find them, I suppose they are here in this novel of a post somewhere. I don’t feel as lonely anymore. Talking and laughing with them, the cousins and aunts, uncles, grandma, and being myself – it made me happy, very happy, yet sad, because as an adult I haven’t been privy to times like this with my own side of the family. I never even thought family mattered to me. I have a wonderful husband and a cat, I’m set. But family does matter to me, I don’t know how to connect with my own (and I’m not talking about my parents) but connecting with my in-laws has shown me I can do it.

Weddings are an interesting thing, they can bring out the best and worst in almost everyone included. I needed that wedding, I needed that time with those two women, I’ve always bragged about their accomplishments, always been proud of the paths they chose but I didn’t know how to accept that we were all going to love one another unconditionally, that it was even possible, despite having more than just books and music in common, but we put up and took down that weekend together, Kristy got hitched, we partied like we’d never partied before and I was left thinking that Christmas can’t come around too soon so the six of us get to spend time together again, who knew that I would ever look forward to Christmas, let alone one with family.

As documented in my last post, and over the last year, I’m doing really well. Am I cured? No. And oddly although I don’t like labels, I sort of wish there was a better name for my main mental issue of severe depression, it just sounds funny, but when my shrink has to fill out any forms, that is what occupies the suffers from space, so that is what I go by.

The last week and a half though was total shit. Really hard. I managed for the most part to stay out of the suicidal mindset, despite a couple of unwanted intrusions. But I have this thing where I mention it instantly now, using it almost as a grounding exercise. One of my long time readers asked me a while back how it is that Adam is able to handle my monotonous threats of suicide. I told her I didn’t know but that I’d ask him and I also asked why he married me knowing that one minute I’m happy as a pig in shit only the next to spit out “I fucking hate everyone I just want to fucking die, fuck this shit” and off to bed I go. He said it was because he called my bluff. Then I said, “risky business”.

Feeling better is something that as we have a chance to get acquainted comes with it’s own set of variables, like the fear of having another actual breakdown or even just slipping into a depressive episode over what so far hasn’t been longer than seven days without waking up one day and having it genuinely break like a really bad headache eventually does.

I’m finding some things that even though I know deep down are things that I’m taking big liberties in perception with are bothering me none the less.

I feel under pressure. Pressured to keep all of my friends happy and supported both online and off and I feel I am failing miserably there. Pressure to NOT get depressed. Pressure to keep my shit together around people who also suffer from depression but have their shit together now so as to not be a burden. Pressure to NOT want to kill myself. Pressure to NOT freak out or lose my temper or swear at someone. PRESSURE PRESSURE PRESSURE.

No one but ME is placing this pressure, that I am aware of anyway. But I have no idea how to just drop it off on the curb because it gives me anxiety. Just because I feel better doesn’t mean that my social anxiety doesn’t take a couple licks at my ass as it is trying it’s darndest to get out of the house.  Sometimes I don’t even know what feeling better even really means other than not being on shit loads of medication and having a fairly drama free existence because for me there is always that voice in the back of my head that for almost a year has been tiny but is still constantly there reminding me I’m on three medications, though the dosage has been dropped significantly. I find it pretty disconcerting when I look back on how much medication I was on for the first half of 2009. I’m not saying that I will never have another breakdown but the version of me that occupied my body during what was the longest lasting depressive episode I’ve ever had through 2007 to 2009 doesn’t exist anymore. Even when I get pissy and throw a temper tantrum it is coming from a completely different mentality.

I’ve been working on myself for so long I don’t know WHY I can’t just be happy with the progress I’ve made and call er a day. Be thankful for every good day and just accept that I am going to have REALLY bad ones no matter what. I don’t even feel it is asking for that much but apparently at this moment anyway, my brain feels it is.

** Title from Under Pressure, Queen w/David Bowie

I have been in this bizarre place lately where I’m taking comfort and solace in John Denver, my undying devotion and love of Johnny D is well documented on this blog, he hasn’t pulled ahead of Neko Case on my last.fm stats but Tool can’t either. The disparity between Neko Case and Tool all but prove that I listen to songs on repeat which I mention in my Twitter profile. I can’t believe I am going to admit this but it isn’t like you can’t see it on my profile. Since joining last.fm on August 5, 2008, loading all my music in and then being told about Scrobbling by The C.J Hixon. [which he is addicted to like when he comes back this summer I may stage and intervention] Plays for Neko Case my all time favourite artist = 5,482 listens, Tool my all time favourite band = 1,132. Maybe there is more than I originally thought keeping me in therapy for seven years.

I’ve always all but needed music in my life to function. I have memories of being grounded as a kid and grounded for me meant the only thing I was allowed to do was read. This may or may not be why I love reading. Could have gone either way on that one, I think. The first records I remember loving were my Sesame Street ones, when left unattended I can see myself jumping around on my bed and rocking out hard, getting to listen to John Denver and the Muppets could turn into some boisterous bed jumping extravaganzas as well. If I got in trouble for jumping on my bed to different variations of Jim Henson creations I’ve blocked it out and all that is left is seeing myself in slow motion feeling it, loving it. So when I’d get grounded I have these memories of lying on the floor with the volume as low as it would go, just to hear that damn rubber ducky song ONE MORE TIME. I had that record player a long time, it of course saw the purchase of my first REAL record, Thriller. My first tape was Madonna, True Blue. Some of my first real jobs where in very low level roles selling music and ordering music for retail stores.

Recently Adam and I wear talking about music videos, I told him something I had never told him before, it wasn’t major just something I used to do so I could hear my songs that I didn’t want to buy tapes for. I was in love with Much Music and used to watch the station for hours with a tape in the VCR and my hand on the record button so that when a song came on I could instantly record it, even though I couldn’t get the same kind of volume out of the TV as I could from my [by this time] tape player. It was awesome to me because all my favourite songs and videos where at my finger tips which also made it so much easier for impromptu dance routines. And back then artists and bands cared more about what they were putting out there in regards to videos, now a lot of people get all caught up in the production and forget about the song.

I was originally going to post five videos, but when I started to think about the videos I have picked for this post It didn’t go in the direction I had intended it to, which was basically new videos that reminded me of old videos or what I want to see in music videos something that at least feels like it was made for me, the listener, and not a sales pitch.

Right, let’s get to it, shall we?

Bat for Lashes – What’s a Girl to Do? (2007)

I started listening to Bat for Lashes last year, I’m late to the table on a lot of good music these days, there is simply so much shit out there and I get lost in my folk music and every now and then pull my head out of my ass long enough to discover new to me talent. Given that I spent a good portion of my youth taping videos onto meticulously labeled VHS tapes, I feel I know a good music video when I see one.

This video struck me for many reasons, first of all I adore the song, I don’t remember how I came upon it but I know the first time I watched it, I watched it in awe, didn’t take my eyes off the screen. I don’t go so far as to wiki this shit, I was obsessed as a teen because getting ahold of music was so different back then, especially in the North. I don’t know anything about this video except what I think of it. Having worked in T.V. though, I can not even imagine how hard that two minutes and fifty eight seconds was to film, I am going to go with NOT EASY. The timing is impeccable, originality used with such deceiving simplicity, even the sweater she is wearing, I love it. There was a time when I also hung out with various boys in the Vancouver courier scene who were all about tricks and impressing girls, receptionists from the city centre, myself being one of them, they’d take me for rides on their handlebars, that is of course until till the next cute receptionist came along..

Peter Bjorn And John – Young Folks (2006)

The only thing separating us from hipsters is about fifty grand. I heard Adam playing this song one day before I ever saw the video and the whistling caught my ear because Adam can’t whistle so I wasn’t sure why he was torturing himself with this until I peaked over and found a suitably ironic video unfolding before me, not really an original idea but there was still something that made me want to watch it, over and over again. This video is detailed, the drummer’s Hulk t-shirt, polyester, timeless behavior by good ol’ young folks, we were even discussing the other day how when you are young it feels like everyone is in a band. Catchy tune, fantastic video, allows me many an opportunity to whistle in Adam’s ears, it sticks out to me, seems really thought through; drawing it was probably full of shits and giggles, maybe some safety meetings.

R.E.M. – Everybody Hurts (1993)

This video was on a lot of my VHS tapes. This has always been a go to song and video for me when I need to cry and can’t. Sometimes I’ll watch the video when I want to kill myself, I’ll have a good cry and call it a day. Message received. This video and I have been through a lot together. This song was there when it wasn’t enough and there I was in the hospital for over a week, stomach pumped, leaving my body somewhere separate from my wondering mind that wanted nothing to do with what I had done, what I was, the pain, and the fallout. Everybody Hurts. This song took on even more meaning for me after losing my buddy to the big S. I used to think you could know someone, even if you couldn’t read their minds, another reason I have always loved the message that I perceive from this video, from a symbolic place of relating to the thoughts offered up by the personalities brought to the video. Suffering from depression and feeling forced into silence for so long I wanted a car door to open for me. And now, this video epitomizes my feelings, learned the hard way, my personal feelings, that you can never ever truly know anyone, we can only truly ever know ourselves. And how many people can even honestly say that they really know themselves?