Archive for January, 2012


January 16, 2012

Thanks to those that reached out to me after my last post. I appreciate the effort, but even when it is really dark I’m ok. The Bloggess’s post just really hit home with me, and I felt that it was important to do what little I could to get the word out there that those of us that live with depression shouldn’t feel the need to hide it.

I am lucky that there isn’t much that keeps me from knitting. It is a major part of my life, and it helps to ground me. Even through all but the worst of my pain I can knit. If I can’t focus enough for lace, I can still knit socks. Since the first of the year, I have knit these:         

The blue ones will be for Kid the Eldest’s birthday next month, and the baby booties will be for the booth. Plus I’ve started another pair, which hopefully will be for me (doesn’t always work out that way, but I can try).

I also helped a friend with the bridal show held locally on Saturday. I had hoped to display a few shawls in a way that would let the brides know that they were available for sale, but the people running the show objected since my friend had not informed them that I would be doing that, so they were only used as display decorations. Still, they looked pretty, and getting ready for the show meant that I got the Niebling and the Snowflake Peacock blocked.

 That’s my alpaca shawl (Snowflake Peacock), and a couple of the old cameras that live at my house.

Before Kid the Younger went back to school he helped me take the christmas decorations back out to the barn and, even better, helped me move the dining table to the living room. Once I go through all the stuff that has lived under the table that will make room for my loom to move out here where it will actually get used, and the table is big enough to hold both the table looms and the carder. It’s a slow process, getting everything the way I want it, but I’m moving through everything. Slow and steady wins the race, right? The back bedroom where the loom is now is too cold to be comfortable in the winter, but it’ll make great storage space once I get it organized. Unfortunately, before he passed away, my sweetie just stuffed things in there. The closet is full of boxes, with more boxes in front of the closet doors. He bought the ugliest black plastic shelves possible, and crammed them full. Half finished projects were separated from their supplies and patterns, books have disappeared, my stash has been scattered. There was no method to his madness and it will be a major job to set it right. I’m looking forward to getting it done, but it’s not something that my back will let me work on quickly.

But I think that the best news is that at least some of the ewes appear to be pregnant. I’ve been crossing my fingers really hard, and held off saying anything until at least one of them started showing (am I the only one that appraises baby bellies?). These 2, Midge (CVM Romeldale on the left) and Marge (white Romeldale on the right) are definitely with lamb, so Inesh did his job. Hopefully I’m not fooling myself, and the rest of the ewes will start to show signs soon. The earliest I’ll get lambs is the end of February, and waiting is always the hardest part!


January 5, 2012

I’ve held off on posting for a while, wanting to get into a better place. Then I read Jenny‘s last 2 posts, and realized that what I really needed to do was be honest. With myself and with you.

The truth is that there are times that the pit of depression opens up and swallows me whole. Holidays can be rough, and I’m pretty worthless in the spring (starts about mid-March with dead boyfriend’s birthday, goes thru my birthday, anniversary of daughter’s death, and usually ends late May with her birthday), but it can strike out of the blue any time, any day. Most of the time I can fake it enough to appear ok and get through my day, but I’m really just hiding how I really feel. If I’m home I let the feelings come as they will, but I have cancelled plans with friends when it’s bad. Some days the only thing that gets me out of bed is the fact that the animals need to be fed, and once I’m up I stay up. The back pain that I’ve been living with for the last 11 months isn’t helping, but I don’t think that it has made things worse.

The one thing I am really tired of is folks telling me how strong I am. Just because I don’t cry in public doesn’t mean I’m strong. Curling up in a ball just isn’t a viable option most of the time. Even before the depression I tended to put my head down and bull my way through things. That has gotten me through 28 moves as a kid and adult, being the new kid at school 10 times before I went to college, several jobs, and raising 3 kids for almost 30 years and sheep for 12.

I didn’t really understand depression until 5 years ago. Kid the Younger has dealt with it for too many years, and I was as supportive as I could be but I didn’t “get it”. My favorite uncle suffered with his, to the point that 15 years ago he called his neighbor and asked him to go pick up my aunt at work but not let her in the house, and then called 911 before he took his own life. All because he was afraid of becoming addicted to anti-depressants. Five years ago I had some muscle spasms in my lower back. As part of the treatment, my then doctor prescribed Cymbalta (it apparently can help with pain relief). Not a great drug for me, since it made me suicidal and totally took away my balance. I fell twice, and was on the ground before I even felt that I was falling. Luckily I didn’t break anything, but as soon as I realized what it was doing to me I went off it. Then all the crap happened, and I got sucked in to the abyss.

I’m lucky in a lot of ways. I don’t self-hurt, and even when I’m suicidal I am aware enough to know that the feeling will pass. I have friends that I know would be willing to listen if I wanted to talk, and I even have a couple that get it, that miss my kid as much as I do. I know that “normal” is a lie, that most of us deal with issues that we think are ours alone, which is such a crock and does us all more harm than good. We are human, and that needs to be enough.

Thanks for listening. I’ll get back to a better place soon, I’m sure, and bring you up to date on the knitting and the beasties. Until then, keep on keeping on.