DEPRESSION SHMESSION

What is depression anyway!  To examine the meaning of a word, I usually try to find the root of that word; in this case, depress.  Hmmm, to depress is to push something down, to keep something down, or in the emotional sense, keep happiness and positivity down, at least, that is how it appears to me.  

I often hear people say, "Just get over it.  If you think happy, you will be happy."  Okay, so I say to myself, "Voila- you are happy."  Strange, but my sudden realization of happiness eludes me.  I feel no overwhelming sensation to smile, no emotional euphoric bathing, not even the urge to giggle.  So I think, "Damn, I must be doing this wrong.  Okay okay, let's try again.  You are happy.  Think happy thoughts."  I try for several minutes and again, I'm just not getting that instant gratification, which I look for in so many areas of life.  I wonder if it's supposed to be instantaneous.  Maybe there is a set amount of time to wait before the euphoria kicks in.  That's it.  That must be what I'm doing wrong.  Again I try the verbal boost and this time I wait for over an hour, but nothing happens.  Okay, I guess I'm just not getting this whole "talk yourself into it" thing. 

What then, is the answer?  The answer is, and it's taken me so long to discover this, self-acceptance.  Now a lot of people say that it is self love, but I argue with them on this fine point.  I love myself, I love myself quite a lot actually, but I don't always agree with myself on the decisions I make and the paths I choose.  An example of this was evident to me today.  I was invited to a person's house to later join them at a local pub for a New Year's celebration of drinking and dancing.  While this sounded like a total blast, there is such a huge part of me that refuses to let me go out and really have some fun and laugh and enjoy people and positive surroundings.  Why? I ask.  Am I some kind of a martyr?  Maybe, but the fact is that I don't accept my choice to go out and have fun.  I don't accept sometimes that I am worthy of enjoying myself without a whole lot of guilt.  I don't accept that I could choose to have fun and actually manage to accomplish that feat.  If I did accept those things about myself then I believe the choice would have been clear, that I would have said yes to the invitation in a heartbeat and not thought twice about going home, getting dressed up and heading out for an evening of fun.  This is but one example, but one that I feel illustrates my belief in self acceptance.

My point?  We need not only to love ourselves, which don't get me wrong, is extremely vital, but to wholeheartedly accept ourselves, the decisions we make, the paths we choose and every other aspect of our lives.  We need to realize that we are but human and prone to err.  To err is to learn and to learn is to grow.  Growing is what we do in life from the time we are born to the time we pass on, to whatever is next, and is vital to survival. 

So, although I am a long time sufferer, I am learning to say "depression shmession!!!"  (say that three times fast.)  And so I say, unto yourself be loving, be accepting, be living.

BLOG AWARD

Much to my surprise today I received a blog award from: Home Office Furniture

which you can view at: http://homefurnituredepot.net/blog_awards/index.php?id=2241

Thank you Home Office Furniture for this award and exposure and I hope the exposure on my blog will show my appreciation.

FLOUNDERING

Have you ever heard people who are missing a limb comment that they can still feel it? Like it's still there and sometimes it itches or tingles? I have decided that that is the best way to describe the way I feel right now. My mother's battle with cancer came to an end last week. Guess who won! So much a part of my everyday life involved either calling her, going by her house, having her over to spend the night and/or going on trips together. Now that she is gone it's as though I can still feel here there.

I started to go to her house the other day and I've picked up the phone twice to call her. While I am sure that my behavior is quite within the norm, it feels quite abnormal. I am floundering all over the place, wondering day to day where I should be, who I can talk to and what I'm going to do without my best friend in my life.

I just realized how grateful I am that I write. It is the one area of my life that gives me clarity. No matter what I am going through or how confused I ever become, I know that by writing about it or writing one of my books or poems, I can figure out how to get through it. It isn't so much that I get an epiphany, but rather more of a clarity, a mirror, if you will, looking at myself from another angle.

I often wonder if I appreciate everything I have. Though the dark clouds of foreclosure loom over our heads like an evil poltergeist, wreaking havoc and fear, I can still see that I have a LOT materialistically, but I have even more spiritually, in my son and myself. If only I appreciated myself to the fullest I think I would get more out of life. To finally trust myself and let myself be free enough to have fun wherever and whenever. I think that is the direction I am finally headed in this stage of my life and it's about time. I am so blessed by the love of my son and the fact that he is such a great person. In retrospect, I am really quite wealthy, I just don't have any money. (See? Writing helps).

To find a solution to this floundering would be a welcome comfort, and I realize in time I will do so, but right now I have no idea what path to wander down. I am open for suggestions if anyone has them to offer.

LIFE? IN THE DESERT?

Having been fortunate to grow up on the beautiful Northern, California coastline, and then having to have made the transition to the southwest desert life (because my move here was not necessarily my choice), has been quite an arduous adjustment, I must say.

As you know, if you read my blog, I am an avid photographer. Since relocating to the desert I have enjoyed the challenging exploration for interesting landscape images, and it was during one of my recent explorations that I began questioning how life in the desert (any desert) first emerged.

Where I grew up the ocean was on one side of us and redwood forest on the other. Green was rampant, which was great as it is my favorite color. Cool days and clean air filled my senses and beautiful scenery filled my soul. As I made my journey to the far south, three-year-old son and U-Haul in tow, I began to notice vast sparsity emerging the further south I traveled. Recently, I guess I've just been very analytical these days, I have begun to wonder who it was that came upon this red dirt which harbored evil plant life, armed to reach out and prick passersby, and very little water, and said, "Wow, this would be a great place to live. There is little water and many thorny plants, not to mention an abundant amount of ornery creatures, of which the deadly diamondback snake comes to mind. We should settle here and raise our children." Okay, so I'm thinking masochists (or sadists depending on how it took place).

If you have allergies, forget about it, dust is not often, it is infinite and thick and you must dust on an hourly basis, if you enjoy dusting, that is. I do it, but do not enjoy it. Even if you never had allergies before, trust me, you will develop them upon relocation. Things to look forward to? Maybe to some, however first chance I get - I'm heading North again, to Brookings Oregon, preferably. Don't give up on me Trish, I'm on my way!!!