home sweet home

The Mayberry morning has a spun gold look about it. The sun, having awakened in a kind and gentle mood, seems to have opted to share its joy with the rest of us. It feels as though it grew light all at once this morning; the Night, exhausted from standing its post, was all too happy to accept its much needed break.

I’ve been decorating my home for Fall and I feel like I’m starting to fall in love with it. I know that sounds strange, but I’m sure anyone reading this understands the sentiment behind that statement. Those of us who have not had small children in our lives for some time, or who have other issues that have been robbing them of joy, don’t always fall in 20151019_204837lock step with the holiday season. You forget how wonderful it is to walk in the house and be enveloped by the sight of simple decorations that remind you of the changes taking place this time of year…the fragrances from candles burned that create such a peaceful ambiance in an otherwise normal collection of walls.

‘Home’ has always been an issue for me. As a child, my home was on the border. In my heart, it still is. When I think of home, I remember my desert and the beauty of it all. I think of Lajitas…Presidio…Ojinaga…Alpine. Those places live in my heart today just as they existed the first time I ever saw them. Other than that, I’ve had one other place that was a real home to me; our first house, where we raised the boys. The time spent in that old place was the best. My heart was in it. In the years since leaving that house, I’ve been hard pressed to conjure enough holiday spirit to put up a Christmas tree, much less to decorate for Fall and such. So…to me…this feels really good. It’s like candy for the soul…to love your home; to accept a place as your home. I feel as though my feet may be flirting with the idea of actually being on the ground, firmly planted, for the first time in decades.

These have been a hard two months. A friend lost his mother in late July and promptly fell to pieces. I’ve tried to help him in my own way, but it’s not enough. After all, the blind can’t properly lead the blind, can they? I’ve been fighting the deepest depression of my life and I don’t understand why. And, while I’m still feeling quite ambivalent about the diagnoses assigned me by my shrink, I can’t honestly argue against their validity. The proof’s in the puddin, and I am one fucked up bowl o’puddin. lol!

Anyone who deals with bipolar depression knows that it’s almost like a physical fight to get beyond it. A doc can give you every pill they make, but, ultimately, it’s your brain that has the final call. Doc says my issues are caused by early childhood trauma. I never believed in that sort of thing until now. I thought that once you became an adult, it is simply ridiculous to blame things you do in the present on your childhood. And, I blame nothing I do, or am, on what happened to me as a child. However, having become informed on the issue, I can no longer deny that my childhood casts a very long shadow over my life, indeed. It’s the residual parts of what happens to us as children, I believe. It’s the icky you can’t was off. It’s something you wall up, much like a crazed killer walls up a living victim, brick by brick, ignoring the reaction of that thing inside that you just want to make shut the Hell up. (Ooooo…Mama has a dark side!)

I know that many of my FB friends have had the same, or similarly traumatic, experiences as I had growing up. I know I’m not a special lil snowflake, unique in any way. I wish I were because that would mean that nobody else had to hurt this way. I can’t stand to see others hurting. Most others, that is. I can’t even be happy to see the suffering of those I detest. It’s ridiculous. Doc says it’s because I have no sense of self…no idea who I am. I hope that, should I ever realize who I am, I will continue to never, ever, take pleasure in the emotional pain of another person. Because, unlike a black eye or bloody nose…emotional pain affects everything about you and how you relate to others, thereby affecting totally innocent people in your life. It’s simply a ripple effect, like when you toss a stone into a lake.

I should go. The morning is passing me by and I’d like to get a few things done. I hope and pray that whatever has settled into my head will take leave soon. I take my meds. I try to think happy things. I wake up in the mornings determined to incorporate positivity into my life. I try not to cry all the time like an idiot. And, above all else, I keep in mind that I’m not the only one today…this very minute…who is trying to get through it without making it their last day. There are so many of us…and so few people ever even notice. lol! Smile till it hurts, boys and girls!

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