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Saturday, September 27, 2014

Back on track

tired  but definitely feeling less depressed most mornings in the past week, hurray

Perhaps the neurofeedback is helping, I thought it had before, I'd just had a few setbacks, but now maybe I'm back on track!

Friday, September 26, 2014

doubt builds a highrise


Struggling not to stay down but clearly I  need release. My fledgling confidence crumbles and doubt builds a highrise.

Upcoming art show in Vancouver leaving me feeling the impostor. Trying not to compare and find myself wanting but of course, yadayada.

Every artist is different , I know this and my work has value. It just may be that I will be the lesser talent. That has to happen that must needs happen, it's inevitable. Perhaps there will be some that prefer my work. I just wish that being second wouldn't feel like failure.

I am fortunate to be in this show.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

So broken.

Lonely. What's new. My heart aches.

I don't know which is worse, the loneliness I feel when I am alone or the loneliness I feel when either with or looking at people.

I know it's not what is meant for a human existence, it's counter-survival, so that at least satisfies me that there is something wrong about how my mind works, I know I've seen the EEGs, yet I still doubt. There is a part of me that wants me to be the deliberately bad thing that it is something I have chosen, .like a part of me is gaslighting myself. That crazy-making psychological abuse lives inside me, doubting every conclusion I draw. And stillI ache.

Trying to get to the feelings and out of my head. Everyone makes mistakes right? So why do I never cut myself any slack. I cut people out of my life instead. Auto-removal.
Poisonous one that is me.

Here's an idea I've been idea-ing for a while - write songs about depression.

I hurt. I am sad. I want to cry all the time (that's sounds singable doesn't it?).

So broken.

Just let me cry already.

Thank you.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Navel and Natal gazing

thoughts wandered over to grieving my child of ill development and short time span. If she (?) had lived she would be 7 years old. What we could have done together.

Where would I be now? How would I feel? Was it instead a blessing not to bring a child into and under the presence/influence of one such as I? One who oozes her negative thoughts, her low self esteem, her inestimable sadness. That felt like a descent into the purple of prose. Words sometimes are so satisfying and also woefully inadequate. Another favourite phrase.

So not really much further ahead with PhD stuff. Down a therapist too, so, blog.

The sadness I feel at being childless is very strong, it persists. Does it also subsist - on a the bed of depression so carefully in readiness, cultivated over 40 years prior?

I find myself wishing there was other, more concrete (in physicality and global acceptance of its existence) "condition" with which I was (am) living something so widely accepted that even I could accept it, something that even I could not question as to its veracity its palpability. This haze of depression has weight, it has mass, it has substance and it has influence.

How goes it navel?