NOTHING’S WRONG!!!!

Tags

depression, life in the meadow, lifestyle, marriage, Mental Health, Security, stress, The Contrarian

Okay, so life has been a little stressful lately. Well, a lot stressful. It may surprise you, but when two people live together 24/7, it can get a bit dicey sometimes. Love can only take you so far ya know.

At the center of our misery is the Bronco. A full week and nearly one-half later, and it still sits without real brakes.

You have to understand the country town mechanic to get this. They tend to be rather strange, loner individuals. They work on their own schedules, and they don’t much need the work.

So we keep getting pushed down the line. Plus he wants us to leave it there, and that means finding a ride. And our ride’s phone is out. (we can drive with what are called “mechanical brakes” which work but aren’t shall we say giving you the “stop on a dime” capability.

So, we, the Contrarian and I and having our stress issues.

And, shockingly, we don’t handle it the same way. I am (typically?) female. I wanna talk it out. I am also a bit of a pessimist, which is good, since I’m usually the one who is right, things always go bad most of the time. I have depressive tendencies, and so I pout, look morose, and snap at people and animals.

The Contrarian is male. He likes to ruminate. He doesn’t want to talk. He likes to handle his stress and depression with diversionary behavior.

To me, it looks like doesn’t care much about the issue of the bronco. He is constantly looking at me and asking “is something wrong?”

Something????? Yeah, how bout everything, I scream silently. I seethed, and wonder what planet is he on. I then punish him by saying, “No, not a thing.” And go back to cursing the day I met him.

I wait for him to tell me what he now plans. He never offers. I wait. I seethed, I curse.

He sits. And sits. But he is ruminating. And as he now tells me, he finds himself at times like this when his plan has gone awry, in a frozen state. He becomes inactive. Until finally he is able to work out another plan. Until then, he is silent.

I can understand that. Now that I know.

I explain. I never had much insecurity as a child. There were never any discussions about not having enough of anything. There were no discussions about putting off this purchase until some bills were paid.

When I left home as an adult, financial security was prime with me. I usually maintained it very well. I like options. I like agreed upon alternative plans. I like security.

I know, I know. Security is illusory, and if only fundamentalists got this, the world would be a better place. Security is not humanity’s lot in life. Never has been and never will be. Until we can defy death (believers of course excluded), we will always be insecure.

But I mean the normal kind of security. The common sense planning that we all do, or should, to ensure that we can survive. The tornado shelter, the savings account, that sort of thing.

Living in the meadow has made me feel very insecure. Weather has the power to dictate when I can leave it and when not. We have only one operative vehicle. Things like that make me insecure.

Apparently such things don’t much bother the Contrarian. Security is a certain amount of insulation from the world that I am finding increasingly hard to bear all the time. Solitude seems to make him comfortable, while I have started to find it more stifling.

Weird how two people can live together for eleven plus years, and still find so much they do not understand about each other.

We are in a better place today. We have talked it out. We understand each others ways of dealing with high drama stress better. I know he’s not just ignoring problems. He knows my bad moods reflect worry. We can be kinder and gentler to each other.

It makes me wonder if other married or long-term partnered people find new things about their other after years of being together. It was a bit of a shock to me, finding out a couple of things my Contrarian divulged. No doubt he got a surprise at some of my  interior mechanisms.

Are we weird? Or what?

Related Articles

• 15 Ways to Stop Obsessing (beliefnet.com)
• Does Your Personality Make You Stressed? (lifescript.com)
• How to Deal with Stress (socyberty.com)
• What is Rumination Syndrome? (brighthub.com)

Looking Up And Finding Clouds

Tags

depression, inspiration, Iowa, life, life in the meadow, Memorial Day

I find myself strangely depressed the last few days, and it seems incongruous to me, given the beautiful weather we’ve been having. I’m very driven by weather I’ve learned. So it’s been puzzling to find myself fairly lethargic lately.

In trying to figure out why, I’ve come to the conclusion that two things are wearing heavy on my heart: the Gulf coast tragedy and the ongoing sadness of those in our parish family who are struggling with major health issues. Our deacon’s daughter is struggling with a deep brain injury, from an accident several weeks ago, and the road to recovery will be a long one. The Gulf coast, as we all know, will be effected by the oil spill for decades probably.

I think mostly, I feel helpless in the face of these two events. There is nothing much I can do. I pray. Everyday. At least against the oil spill, I can vent my anger, since there is a lot of blame to go around.

But, countering that, I’ve been nudged by a couple of other folks. Fran, from There Will be Bread, in a post I recall reading on FB, indicated that she wanted to move into a more positive mode, celebrating where we could join together, rather than emphasizing differences. I’m always superbly uplifted by Jan of Yearning for God for the same reason. It’s always about good stuff there, ways to connect with the divine and happy references to happy dogs.

Of course there is always Tim at Straight-Friendly for honest and beautiful inspiration. And there is for sure a smile whenever Jim at OkJimm’s Eggroll Emporium decides to set down his beer and take up his pen.

Another blog was pointed out to me by the folks at WordPress the other day. A “blogging success story” that I guess gives all of us who really love this writing business, hope. Like Ree Drummond, who has gone from family blogging to national recognition and a new cookbook, with stops at GMA and The View, via Pioneer Woman, Neal Pasricha has zoomed to the top of the heap with his blog 1000 Awesome Things. There is now a book out, and no doubt more to come. Neal claims that he started his blog to find something good and uplifting to help him keep a positive outlook.

I’ve been realizing lately that I’ve been slowly but surely gravitating more to blogs that have something solid I can hang onto, something that tells me more about life and living it well. It’s not to say that I am off the political spectrum. For indeed I find the likes of Tom at Politics Plus, and Dcap at distributorcap NY forever funny, informative, and witty.

Please also note, that in featuring these particular blogs, I don’t mean to slight dozens of others that I follow daily or near daily and appreciate for their inspiration and/or political acumen. These are just the first that came to mind.

What does all this mean? Oh, nothing in particular. I’m not thinking to alter this blog much if that is what you were thinking. I just realized that perhaps when I seem in a rut of rant, or in constant self-analysis in which I usually come up short in my own estimation, it may be time to turn the tables to stuff that is a bit lighter.

I was caught up yesterday in watching the news. The entire weekend has been filled with tributes, and remembrances of veterans, and well it should. However in this household, those thoughts are close at hand most all year, and the constant reference to death and dying is especially wearing. But a woman, spending her Memorial Day with her son at Arlington Cemetery, remarked that she and her family had always “celebrated” the holiday, but now it was celebrated in a very different way.

I realized that that happened to me, without much recognition when I married the Contrarian nearly eleven years ago. It is somber, not a day for play. We do fix a good deal of food and enjoy that, but the day itself is quiet. For us, the constant though understandable references to veterans is tiresome and painful. It recalls for my husband memories he has struggled a near lifetime to forget.

Perhaps that is why I am at odds with myself and the world today. Too much weekend. And the damnable turkeys are still attacking our garden, nipping a pepper plant here and there. And the mosquitoes have radar tuned to me, making it hard to be outside. I am constrained to live with tons of OFF which no doubt is not healthy, but at 60, I figure to die of something else before that cancer matures.

So, here’s to sun and light breezes, and waking up to a cacophony of music in the trees as a dozen varieties of bird greet the day. Here’s to good food, good beds, good movies, and happy pets. Here’s to yawns and fresh coffee brewing. To not having to wear sweaters and socks and caps to keep your ears warm. Here’s to barbecue and pasta salads, and good friends. Here’s to equality and justice and compassion and empathy. Here’s to fresh water and rain forests, and sunrises and sunsets. Here’s to love, and forgiveness, and curiosity. Here’s to companionship, and passion. Here’s to life, good, bad or otherwise, for it changes tomorrow, never give up hope in that. This Bud’s for you! (Frankly I hate Bud, being a Dos Equis person myself-but you get the point.)

Peace and God Bless

Never Look A Grace Horse in the Mouth

Tags

depression, God, grace, hope, Lent, religion

As many of you know, its been a rough winter here in the meadow. But heck, it has been rough across the land. My complaints have been more to the personal meadow issues than the mere cataloging of inches of snow, and days below freezing or without sun.

I’ve tread water a good deal of the time, putting one foot in front of the other as it were, and not much more. I’ve been sustained in part by the good wishes and commiserating thoughts of so many of you.

It is not until, as my good friend Ruth, over at Visions and Revisions, pointed out, she felt the first bubblings of “hope” returning, that I was able to truly “see” what was going on in my life. I said at the time, that I had not yet had that feeling, but I can relate, that today, I have.

Yesterday, a friend said in words to this effect: “How do I answer my non-believing friends that my faith has logic and sense to it?” One of our clergy replied, “Somethings are not of the mind, but are truth as seen from the heart.” And what follows surely is understandable by the believer and will be dismissed by those who do not believe as so much “wishful” thinking or some such dismissive remark.

For, today, I stand fully aware of the special graces given me during this Lenten period. Graces that have allowed me to persevere in the face of sometimes onerous calamities. As is often the case, grace reveals itself in the people we come in contact with. It certainly expressed that way for me.

Jan at Yearning for God, sent me a wonderful Lenten practice that I’ve been doing on being sensitive to our “carbon footprint”  and being mindful of our consumerism. Ellen, a truly gifted and dedicated friend from church, pointed me in the direction of a site called “Journey to the Cross, which has been a daily source of inspiration. It speaks to me so clearly some days, saying just what I most need to hear. Tim, from Straight-Friendly has been unfailingly supportive and offerer of gems of wisdom that bespeak a very very old soul indeed.

It is in one sense deeply unfair to single out only these four, for indeed there are many, almost too numerous to mention who have been there at the exact time I needed them to be, with words of wisdom, offerings of help, or simple empathetic understanding.

It all broke open for me yesterday, when at last I was able to return to church. To gather for education hour and enjoy and benefit from the amazing gifts of so many was inspiring. To talk about and meditate on “the NOW” with such rich gifts as the members of my parish is grace indeed. To worship together in love and commitment, with sincerity and joy, is inspiring indeed. I came away refreshed, renewed and full of, yes indeed, hope.

Hope bubbled up once more, just as Ruth describes it in her posting of a couple of days ago. Urged forth by the warm welcome I received by so many, and the ease with which I slipped back into familiar but meaningful patterns of prayer and worship, hope returned in the bright sun of a Sunday afternoon.

It was truly not that things were so bad, for truly they were not. Most of the crises I suffered were over fairly soon, within hours some times, within a day or so on others. But the cabin fever mentality is wearing. Those who know depression know what I mean. You awaken with the sigh of another day doing the same old same old, and it seems almost not worth the effort of getting up. The rut of sameness looms large. Just getting out among others helps, changes one’s perspective.

I felt, as I left the church building, the gurgling of a spring within my chest. The birds twittered, my step was more lively. I smiled at strangers, and shared a laugh at the design of shopping carts. I chatted with the young man checking my groceries. I fell back in love with the world again.

I saw, finally the deep grace God has offered me, in the people and places I was able to access. I was reminded of the deep blessing of Carolyn and Karen and Barbara and so many others who checked in with me, and offered words of comfort. God works that way a lot. Through the willingly open person who offers himself as conduit for Grace.

We are urged always to seek to put on the mind of Christ. I am blessed, for I have seen that mind mirrored to me again and again during these past weeks. I didn’t always see it at the time, but I do now. I see the fine tapestry of interwoven lives that encompass me and uphold me. I am grateful. I am blessed. I thank all of you, named and unnamed.

Evolutionarily Yours

Tags

amygdala, brain, depression, evolution, frontal lobes, God, Human Biology, image of God, medicine, mind, neural pathways, PTSD, science

Long time readers here, know that I suffer to a degree with SAD, seasonal affective disorder. During these past couple of weeks, with temperatures hovering near or below zero most days, I’ve spent time sitting at the window, since blessedly the sun was out most days.

I handled the intense cold and resultant miseries rather well, and was mostly upbeat and happy during our self-imposed snowbound exile.

With the return yesterday of vastly warmer temperatures, I found myself strangely depressed and grouchy. It got me to thinking, and you know what that means–I have something to say.

I’ve said often enough that one of the reasons why I can see God’s hand in creation so very clearly, is that life is tenacious. Spotting a lone dandelion growing in the cracks of an old sidewalk proves that. It seems that evolution does it job in providing mechanisms that protect our lives in various circumstances.

I came to the conclusion, that this was just one more instance of that. In the midst of the perceived “danger” the brain somehow protects us from the depression that such events should precipitate. After the danger is past, the natural depression descends since we can now afford to give attention to it. 

This led to something I remembered from a three part show on PBS regarding the brain and how it functions. The Emotional Life describes a variety of brain mechanisms, often illustrating the working by showing dysfunctional brains where the mechanism is faulty.

One such is the amygdala, that small portion in our more primitive brain that operates to alert us to danger. A life-protecting mechanism in and of itself, it prepares us for “fight or flight,” flooding our bodies with adrenalin. This information is then sent to the frontal lobes, site of our rational cognitive thinking.

Here is where the problems begin. The prefrontal lobes examine the evidence and assess the danger. However, they are behind the game at this point. The amygdala is already in action, and the pathways from frontal lobe to amygdala, are not direct as they are from amygdala to frontal lobe. They are convoluted, containing a fairly round about way of getting there.

The amygdala thus functions to push the body to respond before the frontal lobes can get the information back to it, that it can relax. It has already poured forth its adrenalin. Interesting you say, but so what?

The commentator suggested that this portion of the brain, the FL to A pathway is not yet evolutionarily developed. We are on the way to a better connection, but not there yet. Evolutionarily speaking, it was better to be ready to act than to mull it over first. Makes perfect sense.

A couple of other fascinating things also are explained. It probably comes as no shock to most people that during a crisis (something fear inducing or terrorizing), we seem to have heightened senses. We hear, see, smell, feel, taste, more acutely. This apparently has something to do with the adrenalin or other chemicals that are released during such crisis conditions.

This means, that every single thing that happened during the moment of terror is exquisitely recalled in perfect detail. One can literally, upon proper cuing, smell the smells, and hear the sounds. Of more serious consequence, the memories are literally seared into memory. This has important implications for PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). Here a particularly frightening episode is  cued, and the person feels for all practical purposes as if they are once more actually there, within the event again.

Each and every recall brings on the adrenalin flow and the terror is relived in 3D . For years, given the military’s desire to downplay the disorder, and because we knew very little of the inner workings of the mind, no real treatment was effective. Now there is some hope. Namely, the patient is forced to recall and describe again and again in detail what they are experiencing. And the frontal lobes slowly help the person accept that the signals are but memory. In other words, the patient’s own mind signals back sooner that all is well.

In time, hundreds of thousands of years no doubt, we will have the capacity to shut down the amygdala much quicker when there is no real danger present. So we live with the disorders that faulty connections allow for now.

Why is any of this interesting? Well quite simply to me, understanding the inner workings of my mind is one of my ways of understanding God. I have come, over time, to the conclusion, that being made in the “image of God” can only mean having a brain that thinks like God’s does.  Surely we all recognize that God is not the image of Michelangelo’s in the Sistine Chapel. Yet most of us do recall that image when we think of God.

Yet, I believe God is not corporeal but spirit. As such it would seem to me that we would have no reference point at all to “think” of God unless our minds were similar in nature. This is not to say that God does not have multiple “minds” each designed to the species (earth bound or otherwise). And in some sense, the evolutionary development of the human brain moves toward a more God-like orientation as it develops. Cats, as far as we know, don’t meditate on God, humans do.

It suggests to me that we are moving toward God as we move away from war, hate, anger, anxiety, selfishness, vanity, sloth and all those “sins”. As our brains develop, we move away from them as well. The frontal lobes take over and are the cop on the block, as it were.

Which is all to say that I appreciate my brain for its protection of my psyche during the great ice age just endured, saving my “depressing” day for a “safe” one. I look forward to the day when my brain doesn’t need this safety net, but can control itself by reason. Evolutionarily speaking the time needed is but a drop in the ocean of time. See ya there!

Are We Having Fun Yet?

Tags

depression, Iowa, life in the meadow, pets, Thanksgiving afterthoughts, walking

Whew. . . . I take it you made it? I mean you survived the day? All that mound of food, irritating relatives and watching the never ending saga of the sad Lions and another loss?

And this is just the beginning. We get to do all this again, and more in about a month. Is there something ever so slightly masochistic about all this?

If yesterday and the previous three days of preparation weren’t enough, a surprising number of otherwise sane appearing Americans forewent sleep and even set up pup tents in parking lots in order to be first when the doors opened at 3 am. All to secure what are undoubtedly amazing deals on electronics and clothes and other “must have” items that somebody can’t live without.  (Read: if you are a good parent you will secure said item for your children.)

No, I did not participate, although the idea of a lap top for $299. at Best Buy was intriguing. Learning that people camped out all DAY yesterday in order to get one of the 7? they had, well, I am glad I am a more principled person! I did not succumb, but rather archly commented “amateurs!” and other such epithets as I snuggled deeper into the quilt.

No way that we were ever going to do that, though the Contrarian offered to wake me up should I wish to head off at 2 am. He would not, however, be accompanying me. Yeah, like I thought he might?

We had a good meal yesterday. Most everything came out as planned. The dressing was to die for, and we both were full way to soon. It continues to drive me nearly insane to realize that I spend probably six solid hours of work on food that is consumed in 30 minutes. It does not seem fair. The best fall out is that we warm up everything again for today. At least I don’t have to come up with a menu for dinner today!

The Contrarian did the clean up which was deeply appreciated. The dogs got turkey, gravy, and some taters. The cats strut around wondering why they never get such treats. Several of them mentioned this to me, so I guess I’ll have to come up with something. Milk doesn’t seem to be a sufficient “extra” so they say.

I’ve recognized the onset of another bout of depression. The weather has been atrocious the last few days, rainy and/or cold/windy/dark/crappy. I’m feeling awfully achy and out of sorts. The Contrarian suggested that I not walk today–“take a break” he suggested. But I figured that the sun shining today was an invitation I should not turn down. It was cold, but not too windy, and the sun was helpful I think. Anyway, I feel a bit more energized.

Mostly it’s back to business as usual. Back to studying again. It’s on to EXODUS! We all have our wildernesses don’t we? We all have our hopes in the promised land, however we define that.

Walking today, I noted that as usual, the dogs pay very little attention to me. Brandy turns around now and again, just to make sure I haven’t slipped off to a vehicle to go for a ride. Otherwise, she and Bear trot ever further ahead of me, and arrive back at the house several minutes before I do. My only real companion is Spencer.

I must say, Spencer, in his aging has mellowed. Once the hell cat from well, HeLL, he has gotten older, and is now rather a sweet older guy. He’s around tenish, give or take a few months. He walks with me, although he often lags behind on the walk to the road. Sometimes he tires and stops and waits my return. Today he walked most of the way.

Unlike the dogs, who as I said, leave me in their hurry to get back to the house, Spencer walks behind me, then races ahead, only to stop, sit and wait until I catch up. If I stop to catch my breath or turn my face to Sol, he comes and brushes against my leg, then sits patiently. He is my new buddy, more faithful than his cousins.

Kate occasionally follows in the summer, but she keeps up a constant whining complaint both up and back. Neither Calvin or Hobbes would dream of wasting their time following a human on a walk. For that matter, neither would the Contrarian.

The Contrarian believes in powered vehicles for movement. Enough said. He’s weird as you know. He’s always talking about eating and drinking anthropologically, but never seems to make the connection to the  purpose of legs and feet for movement from place to place. If he can ride, he will, even if it’s a hundred feet. He likes his tractor and his truck. He’s a man. Enough said.

I promise myself not to get “into” the hubbub of the holidays this year. Mostly I will not. We play down Christmas here. We select a “gift” that we both can enjoy. We let it go at that. I’ll feel slightly jealous and left out, but mostly I won’t. I won’t be frazzled and bedazzled. I won’t face hideous bills in January. I can concentrate only on the thing that matters–Spring!

Treating My Head

Tags

depression, psychology, routines, SAD, self-help

It’s always been ironic to me that we place procreation as such a sacrosanct right. The offices of psychologists and psychiatrists tends to belay the fact that most of us are raised by people qualified for the task.

Still, since most of us manage to live out our lives without killing, torturing, or otherwise seriously violated others, I’ve never placed much truck in blaming my woes on the abysmal abilities of my parents.

I have spoken before that I suffer from mild depression, mostly SAD, which as you might expect, occurs mostly in the winter time. I at one point took anti-depressants for something less than a year, but found weaning myself off them more painful than the underlying disorder, so I self manage. Mostly this works pretty well, and I am not symptomatic for months at a time.

I guess it was symptomatic  that a few days ago I wrote a piece on “shoulds.” I obviously missed the signal that this should have alerted me that the cloud was returning. And as usual, new insights arise which I have not yet processed but you might find helpful or not. You may have suggestions or not.

Either way, I’m writing it out as my therapy.

I don’t think I’m unusual in having “rituals.” Rituals to start my day, rituals to end my day. Most people do. I tend to go a bit further and have “cleaning days” and so forth. Shopping is a morning thing, laundry is done on certain days. I don’t get apoplectic if I find it necessary to do laundry on an off day, but I like the schedule. I like to reward my “tasks” with rewards, such as a quiet cup of coffee, reading a book, meditating, cooking a favorite recipe, sitting down to read blogs and so forth. As I said, for the most part this works.

Until it doesn’t. This summer has been a bust here in Iowa. The garden hasn’t produced well due to too much rain and too cool temperatures. Thus a number of plans we had have fallen aside. The Contrarian has had a plethora of VA appointments which have resulted in success on one problem and the rest of the testing has brought relief since all were negative. Now I find myself contemplating the fall and winter and yet I don’t recall having much in the way of summer.

The ironic part, is that the very thing that gives me the impetus to do all the shoulds in my life, the schedule, now looms as the enemy. I see the days as endless sameness. It’s Tuesday, the toilets call. It’s Friday and the laundry beckons. I am engaged in an endless round of tasks that never resolve themselves but merely ebb and flow from “need to do” to “done for now.”

Life becomes an endless treadmill of sameness. I’m not sure how to break the cycle or if I should. The endless routine seems  in the end to build to a crescendo that spills over the top and threatens to flood my life. Yet, I’m afraid if I end the routine, my basic laziness will paralyze any effort at all. Church activities which are not so much within my control, meaning I can’t set the schedule, may be what keeps me reasonable on an even keel.

And I don’t mean it to sound dramatic. It is not. No one, other than the Contrarian would notice any difference. And frankly, he hadn’t noticed any change. I just know that I began to feel these moments of utter “who cares” that would flit through my mind. I could and am able to shake it off and continue, but they are coming by more often and that’s a warning to adjust things again.

It’s just that life seems a little grayer than it should be. The news is a downer, the Internet stories are a downer, the weather is a downer. Are you gloomy yet? Anyone who has depression understands, it seems that you must struggle to make yourself do the things that you used to do with either dispassionate ease or with delight. Everything gets harder. The luster dims on all that normally brings joy.

Mostly I guess I’m reaching out to ask what coping mechanisms work for you. I know a not insignificant number of our blogging community suffers from various depressive like states, and we humans are incredibly creative in finding ways that solve our problems. I guess I’m creating a virtual self-help clearing house here.

So I’d like to hear your tips for pushing away the blues. I guess that I’m discovering that with depression, you can’t just create a world that solves the problem. It’s a fluid illness and requires adaptation over time. The routine that worked yesterday is the demon that makes my world look monochromatic today. It’s a good thing to know, and I’m glad that I have realized that.

Now I need to look at new solutions to old problems. Perhaps we, in our struggles, manage to reach out and help each other. I like to think we do.

Two Steps Forward. . . .

Tags

depression, weather

Taken from jennybinder.blogspot.com/2008/03/ice-storm-ph

We had another ice storm. Actually it wasn’t a really bad one, and we didn’t lose a lot of tree limbs from weight. We had mostly what one would call a heavy misting of sleet which still managed to coat everything quite nicely and make walking and driving treacherous at best.

Which all goes to say, that I didn’t make it to church again yesterday. That makes three weeks in a row now. This is starting to be a serious problem for me. We can get out okay in terms of the snow now, but the ice of course made the idea of attempting to run nearly 15 miles on blacktop a very dumb idea.

To make matters worse, it only got to about 15 degrees yesterday. We had enough wood for the day if we were judicious in it’s use, so the house was quite cool. To me it wasn’t cool, it was downright cold and I was dressed with a robe over that. I spent nearly the entire day sitting on the couch with two afghans on me.

This situation really wears on me terribly. I don’t even want to read, let alone do anything else. Getting even a part of the body out from under the covers results in chills soon. I get bored, and finally I get depressed. The Contrarian takes all this as his fault and doesn’t know what to do. He is like the commercials for anti-depressants, the “family members who are depressed because their loved one is depressed.” I thank them for reminding me that I send my misery to others. That sure helps!

I want to give a huge thank you to a lady who lives in Paris and visits my blog from time to time. She picked a lovely time to visit, and left a very nice comment about blogging and feeling the pressure to visit everybody and leave comments. It helped me a lot. I think you might like her blog, so do stop by and visit at http://omywordblog.blogspot.com. I know that I will be a regular visitor after reading a couple of her excellent posts. Paris! now there is a place I know I shall never visit in my life, but I truly wonder what it must be like to live there. It sounds oh so exotic.

Today, things look a little brighter. First of all, it’s warmer, and the Contrarian has gone out and gotten more wood, managing only to fall once, which delighted the dogs who thought he was getting down to play with them. The ice has mostly melted off the Bronco. I’ve done my treadmill and read some from my art history book and also worked on my recipes. That last is coming along quite nicely, though my hole punch has decided to not work any more. Later I’ll get some knitting done. I’ve got pizza dough rising and the sauce made for pizza today.

All in all the answer to mild depression like mine is to just put your head down and push through I find. It is definitely wrong to sit and brood. Yesterday it was just too cold to move, and it drove me deeper and deeper downward. Today, I saw my chance, realized the house felt much warmer and I bulled on forward. No doubt the exercise such as it is releases those endorphins and you emotionally feel better.

In any case, I do feel better today. I am still put out about missing church. Barbara had e-mailed reminding me of a inquirer’s class she was running for the next 4 weeks. She had asked me if I would attend to kind of help out with the conversation since it was a small group. I feel bad about letting her down, but as I said, it would have been foolhardy to attempt the drive.

Another fellow at church also contacted me about helping to teach a class on Paul in February. I’ve gone ahead and ordered the book from Amazon, but worry about accepting, given my travel issues in the winter. I’d hate not to be able to make it on the Sunday I’m scheduled to present. Sigh…what to do, what to do. I’ll have to call him and see what he thinks.

Anyway, that’s where I am today. Hope your day is going better or at least as good. I know many in the US are having worse weather issues than I am, and I do realize that I am quite blessed over all. That doesn’t always help keep away the self pity however. But I am trying my best!

Blessings to you all.