Dreamer of Impossible Dreams

I'm sure most of you who read my blog also read Lori Anderson's Pretty Things blog. The only thing better than her jewelry is her writing.  She is warm, compassionate, and easy to relate to.

I firmly believe in openly and honestly talking about mental health issues, especially depression. Her post today is Where Lao Tzu and I Battle Depression.  It joins this post from Hyperbole and a Half and this post from The Bloggess as my favorite thatisbrilliantdamnIwishIcouldexpressmyselfthateloquently posts about depression.

My favorite line from her post today is: "Ironically, being depressed does NOT mean I'm not enjoying my life - it's just a little harder to."  This sentence sums up how difficult it can be to explain the complexity of depression to people, especially those close to us. Sadly, sometimes we never can, no matter how hard we try.

Don't Blink

No, I can't resist a Doctor Who reference. :)  

Life's been, well, complicated lately.  Can't get into details at the moment; I do plan on sharing because it involves an important subject for me - depression.  Depression and its stigma.  Why depression is so difficult to understand, even for those who live with it.  What is happening right now isn't completely my story to tell, but I will at some point figure out how much I can share without hurting someone.

For now, things are as in control as they can be. I get to spend tomorrow preparing for this year's shows.  It involves a total revamp of my tabled set-up.  Tomorrow also kicks off registration for the next installment of Bead Soup Blog Party.  It is a lottery this time, so I am crossing all of my lucky bits that my name will be chosen to participate. Sunday WILL be spent melting glass.  

An Open Letter, or, Non-Adventures in the Void

To my old friend Depression,

Nice try. No, really, it was. You've always been a sly little bitch that quietly creeps in unnoticed, but the sneak attack of nearly overwhelming apathy was a new one. You slipped in, wrapped me up in gauze and stashed me into the corner of my own mind, lost in the Void. I could still feel emotion, but from a great distance. Passion, happiness, sadness; while not gone, nearly inaccessable. To the casual observer, everything seemed to be fine. I got up, I went to work, I cooked dinner, and I did it every day. But, it all meant nothing. I felt (nearly) nothing. I lost weeks.

But we've danced this dance, in one form or another, for a couple of decades now. You may be able to creep in, but I have learned to creep in, too. I rebuilt the connection from me to me, that which makes me. I've learned over the years that it isn't enough to survive. I enjoy living.

So cue the Gloria Gaynor music. I will survive.

In short, my old friend - Fuck. You.